#DID WE READ THE SAME DARK ERA @(

[kaletalecowboy]

why are people saying oda didnmt understand dazai ,,,, bro the one character where its directly said that he understood dazai

[gghostwriter]

You’re the Risk, I’ll Take it

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader

Summary: The three times Spencer followed advice and the one time he didn't (or as I'd like to better explain it, the three times Spencer fails to flirt and the one time it worked)

Warning: fluff! Just fluff!

A/n: I wanted to write something cute this time with Season 1 Spencer in mind--one of the best eras if you ask me. Hopefully I did him justice in this. The idea of this cute baby boy trying to flirt is too precious honestly. Also, if a guy did the last act for me, I'd fold like a lawn chair, yep. Risk by Gracie Abrams was on repeat while I was writing this and no proof reading was done. Let me know what you think!

Main masterlist

The first move Spencer tried was advised by Derek Morgan, the renowned ladies man

“Kid, admit it. You like her,” Morgan pestered him with a slight smile on his face. 

Spencer scoffed, trying to throw him off from the truth but monumentally failing. “S-she’s my closest friend. We joined the team at the same time, of course I feel most comfortable with her,” he noted his companion’s eyebrows raising higher and higher with each word. “Plus, she likes hearing what I say even if it has no relation to the case. She asks me questions and genuinely remembers.”

Now it was Morgan’s turn to scoff. “You could be talking about Star Trek and it’s physics mistakes and she’ll still hang on to every word you say.” 

“Actually, there aren’t that many scientific errors in Star Trek. Especially considering—”

“Reid.” 

“Right,” he nodded once, trying to push away the urge to continue further. “That still doesn’t mean I like her.” 

Morgan tapped the wheel twice before turning to face his partner. “Then answer me this. How do you feel when she walks through the office doors?” 

“Happy, I get the same feeling when I see you or Elle come in too,” he found his fingers very interesting then. Like they held the key to unlocking the mysteries of Dark Matter and the answer to the controversial scientific theory ‘Do parallel universe exist?’. He wasn’t telling the whole truth—didn’t want to because how could he, a man of science, explain the other bodily reactions he has when you walk in a room. How he hears his heart stutter in his chest with just a glimpse of you—the first time it happened, he thought nothing of it, but by the third, he considered making an appointment with a specialist for possible heart arrhythmia. How he sees the room brighten when you smile in his direction���perhaps light sensitivity, and how he feels his body heat up when you utter the words ‘Good morning, Spence.’—possibly hot flashes. Self diagnosis that he ruled out once he found you to be the common denominator. That left him with a riddle, a personal conundrum he lost countless of sleep over trying to solve.

“That’s a lie, Reid. You can’t be that happy to see me. You never blush like a tomato when I enter the room. For Greenaway, I could see it but for me, nu-uh,” he argued back. “Okay, what about when she’s not there, what do you feel then?” 

“Sad, similar to how I’d react with you and Elle,” he blurted out another half truth. Another surface level answer that doesn’t fully cover how lost he feels without your comforting presence beside him, how gloomy any room he enters in without you in it, and how incomplete his days were without hearing your voice. 

Morgan snickered. “Lies, you have to learn how to lie better to fool an FBI profiler, Reid. You don’t think I—the team, notice that you’re quieter when she isn’t on the case with us?”

“Wait. Wait, the whole team?” His voice goes up an octave. You were part of the team, did that mean you knew of the effect you had on him too? “D-Does everyone have the same idea as you do? Everyone?” 

“Not everyone, kid. Your secret is still safe,” He smiled wide like a cat that caught the canary. “So it’s true then, you like her.” 

Spencer knew there was no escape from trap, he was just glad that his secret still remained classified from the other party involved. His shoulders sagged as he nodded to confirm Morgan’s findings.

“So what’s your play then?”

His head whipped to face his companion so fast he felt his meticulously styled hair escape the confines of his ears. “Play? There’s no play. Nothing. I’m not going to do anything and this conversation stays between us.” 

“Oh c’mon lover boy, you have to do something,” Morgan challenged. “Y’know she likes you back, right?” 

“No she doesn’t! I mean, why would she?” Spencer rambled on, unable to comprehend what Morgan was saying. “She’s her—beautiful, smart, and cool. Every case we get, there’s at least one police officer hitting on her. And I’m me—I talk too much and get awkward in every situation. The exact opposite!”

“Reid, don’t sell yourself short. She likes you, trust me on this.” He paused, listening to the update on the intercom before continuing on. “So here’s what you’re going to do. Compliment her outfit, girls appreciate that. Easy enough, don’t you think?”

Spencer really didn’t think so after all he had the tendency to go off on a tangent whenever he talks to you but he agrees nonetheless. If Morgan believes he could do it then he couldn’t mess it up, right?

———

Wrong. It was wrong to take Morgan’s advice. Never mind he can recall everything he has ever read, never mind he has an IQ of 187. What good were his talents if he, Dr. Spencer Reid, couldn’t string the proper sentences along?

It started when you walked into the office wearing this light yellow blouse that made you more radiant than he thought possible. It was as if the a ray of sun had graced the bullpen and stunned his mind into silence, rendering him tongue-tied. All his monologues and hypothesis bouncing around his overactive brain fell away and the only thing he could think of was how pretty you look.

Morgan cleared his throat, bringing him back to the living. Spencer averted his awestruck gaze and busied himself with an imaginary lint on his red sweater. 

“Hey Y/N, did anything good this weekend?” Morgan asked as you settled into your desk adjacent to his.

You shrugged nonchalantly and teased back. “I bet it wasn’t good as yours, Morgan. Picked anyone up last Friday or are your charms no longer working?”

“Huh, i see where this is going. Somebody woke up on the wrong side of bed today.”

Morgan chanced a peek at Spencer and internally groaned. How you didn’t notice the kid’s crush on you was beyond him—all the staring and blushing he does when you’re near was a dead giveaway.

“Reid. Reid,” Morgan called out.

He closed his mouth and gulped. “Hm, what?” 

Morgan pointedly stared at him and titled his head towards your direction. A movement lost to you as you noted Elle leaving Gideon’s office.

Spencer opened his mouth to catch your attention but before he could even utter your name, Elle intervened. “Question for you, the foot path killer. Why’d he stutter?”

You swiveled to face her, not having caught Spencer’s intent to speak to you. The unit chief then called them in for a case—an arson case in a university campus. His shoulders drooped as they rushed to the jet afterwards with no chance of small talk. 

When there was a lull in the plane—case discussion finished, he steeled his already apprehensive nerves and took the chance, quickly wishing he hadn’t.

“S-so, your shirt’s yellow,” he stated out loud like it was some sort of revelation. 

“Yes,” you drawled out, unsure as to where he was going with this. “That’s right, Spencer.”

He drummed his fingers on the table and continued on. “Did you know that airplanes tend to avoid the color yellow as it causes dizziness and nausea? A number of studies have shown those exact results and that’s why it’s almost never used in interiors of various forms of transportation and rarely use in advertising. It’s like how the red is the most common color used by restaurants as it psychologically makes the viewer hungry.”

You looked down on your top. Yellow was one of your favorites and you specifically chose this as Penelope said and you quote, it looks good on you, brings out your eyes. Boy genius would probably react to it too so naively you splurged on it. But this—this wasn’t the response you were hoping for. “Spence, are you saying my shirt is making you feel nauseous?”

He blushed and stammered out a strong refusal. “What, no! No! I—I meant to say—you, you look nice.”

You giggled under your breath, finding his long-winded route to giving you a compliment cute. “Nice nice or airsickness nice?” 

“Nice! Just nice!” He defended on, his voice cracking at the end. He caught Morgan’s wide eyed gaze then as if he couldn’t believe what train wreck he just witnessed. 

Cheeks heating up further, Spencer slouched in his seat and busied himself with the files wishing that he could build a memory eraser so he could wipe the events from his and the team’s minds or better yet, a time machine to redo the whole thing all over again.

The second move Spencer tried was advised by Elle Greenaway, the new recruit

“Do you think it’s weird that I knew that ballad?” He questioned during one of their cases in San Diego. It bothered him since the start of the case. How Morgan had teased him about his incapability of asking out the opposite sex. Never mind that you defended him right back, that’s a lie, it made him feel special that you did but the joke was still true. A cold stone truth. 

Elle laughed, flipping her phone repeatedly on the table while waiting for the unsub to take the bait. “I don’t know how you know half the stuff you know, but I’m glad you do.”

“Do you think that’s why I can’t get a date?” He asked as he fiddled with the unfinished Rubik’s cube in his hands.

“Have you ever asked her out?”

There was no need to ask who Elle was referring to, everyone knew of his innocent—well maybe not so innocent at times specifically during his state of dreaming—crush for the second youngest member of the team. He shifted his eyes to focus a few tables before his—at you, sitting beside JJ. “No."

“That’s why you can’t get a date.” 

One of the precincts phone then rang, it was the unsub, causing him to table that conversation in his vast memory. 

———

There’s an English saying that states ‘the second time is the charm’ and Spencer was hoping there were some truth to the idiom even with no scientific explanation to back it up. 

A few cases after San Diego, he got an opening that he was unexpectedly looking for. The team was on their way back from a case in Virginia. It was late and the profilers were all tucked in their little corners of the jet decompressing while you and Spencer were huddled on the sofa quietly discussing Doctor Who. 

“How could you say your favorite is the Ninth Doctor when you haven’t even seen the older episodes?” He rambled, clearly he would have to do something about your limited knowledge in the great universe of Doctor Who. He’d like to explain it all, 695 episodes of the classic era to you. He’d take any topic really just to have your interest.

You stared into his hazel speckled eyes and smiled, amused by his reaction. “It’s a bit hard to catch up on a show that’s been around since the 70s. Plus, it’s a challenge to look for copies.” 

“Actually, the show started in the 60s—1963, to be exact,” he clarified. “Garcia has copies we could borrow and watch together. If that’s—” he cleared his throat and clenched his fists closed, feeling his nails dig into his palms. “—that’s alright with you. If—if not, there’s a convention happening this weekend. I have an extra ticket, if you want to come with—only if you’re not busy, I mean.”

“And risk you spoiling every episode to me? I’d rather watch it alone, if you don’t mind.”

That dragged his optimism to a crash as if a twenty ton weight landed on his chest, rendering him immovable. Of course you were going to say no. There was no proof that you’d reciprocate his interests—he inwardly cursed himself for believing otherwise.

“But, I’d like to go with you to the convention,” you said and silently added as your date to yourself, shifting in your seat with a blush blooming on your cheeks at the thought. “Always wanted to go to one. If you’re fine with me not being in a costume. I think it’ll be too late to find one, don’t you think?”

Just like that, the weight on his chest lifted, making him feel weightless with glee. A wide smile grew on his face, threatening to burst his cheeks as he shook his head. “That’s alright! But you—you can always dress up as Rose!”

You titled your head to the side. “Rose?” 

“You know, the Ninth Doctor’s companion?”

“I know who she is, Spence. I just thought you didn’t watch the revived series?”

He softly scoffed. “I never said that! I watched it too, mainly to compare it to the classics but I’ve seen it.”

You leaned in, wanting to ask about his opinion on it. “Well, what do you think? I happen to be part of the minority who think the actor who reprised the role did alright.”

He liked seeing you like this. It made him feel like a puppy who had his owner’s undivided attention. All wide eyed and interested in his conjectures as to why the actor was alright himself but the problems were his short stint—making people vilify him over that decision—and the material some of the writers came up with. He appreciated you nodding along and supplying your own thoughts on the subject. It warmed his heart that here was a beautiful, smart, and cool person—way out of his league, he might add—giving her precious time away to discuss a nerdy sci-fi show that he could not rant and rave to about to anyone on the team, except for Penelope, and she’s rarely on the field with them. 

Your show of interest made him feel seen. Not as an agent with 3 PHDs, not as a genius with 187 IQ, but rather as a person with a right to express himself and occupy space. He wasn’t Agent Spencer Reid with you nor Dr. Spencer Reid, he was just Spencer who likes to watch Doctor Who and read literature in their original language. 

The third move Spencer did was proposed by Penelope Garcia, the spirited tech analyst 

“What do you mean you took her to a convention? For a date?” Penelope squeaked out, unable to comprehend the logic behind the genius’ actions.

“She said she always wanted to go,” Spencer stated as the elevator stopped on the fourth floor. He had fun over the weekend. Going around booths with you, listening to invited guest panels talk about the behind the scenes, explaining the reference every costume that you’ve pointed out, and just basking in your presence beyond cases. It was a memory he had replayed over and over after it had ended. It occupied his whole mind, and that’s saying a lot, causing him to do nothing and sit in his leather sofa and smile like a lunatic during the rest of the weekend.

“Well yeah, but that’s not date material! A date is supposed to be intimate—you and I go to conventions together, do you count that as a date?” 

“What? No! No, of course not!” 

“Exactly, boy wonder. Then what makes you think she’ll count that as a date?” She countered back as she entered her office with Spencer in tow. 

Silence. Oh.

Penelope sighed, having read the despair painting his face. “Did you at least dress up as the Ninth Doctor?”

“What? No. No, I went as the Fourth Doctor. I even hand-knitted the scarf myself.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before repeating what she just heard. “You didn’t dress up as her Doctor?”

“No,” he paused, unsure where she was going with this. “Should I had?”

“Yes! Yes, you should have!” Penelope slapped his arm out of frustration. “Why didn’t you call me once she said yes? We could have talked game plan or strategy or at least have gotten you a leather jacket to match her choice of companion.”

“Oh, I messed up then, didn’t I?” He slumped despondently on the office chair. “You—you don’t think she thought of it as a date at all?”

She played with her feathered pen, trying to find a way to salvage it for Spencer. “Did you take her out to dinner after?”

He shook his head, finally realizing his mistake.

“Oh Spencer,” she approached gently. “I can scoop for details with Y/N later on and report back to you?”

He shook his head. It didn’t feel right to have Penelope betray your trust and go behind your back over a mistake that he made. You were a honest person and you deserved to be treated with respect and reverence even though all he wanted now was peer into your viewpoint of the date—not date—and figure out once and for all if you saw him as anything beyond a co-worker and a friend. 

“Hm, I think I might just a solution,” Penelope blurted out of the blue. 

He looked up with a sliver of hope blooming in his chest. Maybe third time’s the charm. Besides, Penelope was the colleague you spent most of your time out with. You once mentioned that you considered her your best friend, besides from him of course. 

“You can bake her a batch of cookies! No one can say no to that,” she excitedly explained, believing it to be full proof—except for the fact that he doesn’t know how to bake. He wants to ask you out on a date but not to the expense of burning his whole apartment building down. 

“I can’t—I can’t bake, Garcia,” he squeaked out. “Did you know that 44% of all reported home fires are caused by cooking and baking. Those fires have resulted in an average of 470 civilian deaths and 4,150 civilian—”

She interrupted. “I’ll give you my recipe and detailed instructions to follow. That’ll make it easy peasy for you, boy genius.”

“C-can’t I just buy from her favorite bakery instead?”

“No can do, Doctor. Her favorite cookies just so happen to be my creation. She told me so herself.”

“Well, can’t I just ask you to make it for me? I’ll buy the ingredients!”

“Nope,” she dragged out her refusal. “Think of it as an act of service to her. Plus don’t you think it’s highly romantic when she finds out that you baked them yourself?” She swooned just thinking about it.

“Romantic? It won’t be romantic when I burn my apartment down, Garcia.”

She sighed. “Fine, I’ll supervise if you want. This weekend, granted if we’re free. But you—” she pointed her feathered pen at him. “—better be prepared and I’m just supervising, okay? I’m not baking it myself.”

He sighed. At least having Garcia around would make it easier.

———-

It did not in fact make it easier. Spencer burnt two batches before six pieces were considered edible. Garcia couldn’t understand, hell, he also couldn’t. Baking was precise and from his scientific viewpoint, it was a lot like chemistry. He loved science and anything academic, so how is it that he failed miserably, twice, when it came to baking? 

He shook his head as he entered the office. The first one—he stole a glance at Hotch’s office and saw movement—correction, the second one arriving early. Sometimes he wondered if the unit chief ever goes home, first in and last out.

He settled in his seat before promptly fidgeting from anticipation. Statistically speaking, you arrive earlier than Morgan or Elle which gave him enough time to gift the paper bag of cookies sitting hidden in his satchel without bringing attention to and embarrassing himself. He’d like to have little to no audience if he ever does mess it up for the third time. 

He brought out the cookies, afraid they’ll get crushed between his hardbound books, and placed them on your desk before standing to wash his clammy hands and make coffee. Counter intuitive of him to do as he was already a bundle of nerves and by drinking caffeine he was doubling that but maybe the smell would calm him before shooting up his energy by drinking.

As he exited the mens room, Penelope stepped out of the elevator and squealed. “Is she here? Is she? Did I miss it?”

He shook his head vigorously, trying to silence her excited glees. “No, she’s not here yet. She’ll—” he looked at his watch and ran the numbers. “—be here soon. I’m about to brew coffee. Do you want some?” He opened the door for both of them to enter the bullpen.

“Ick, no thanks,” Penelope said, scrunching her nose at the thought of drinking even a sip before scurrying away to her cave. “I’d rather not ruin my taste buds on bad coffee.”

He laughed and turned towards the kitchenette. With the coffee brewing, he drummed his fingers on the counter and mentally rehearsed what he would say to you. If he practiced, there’s less chance of messing it up like the first time, right? In his state of concentration, he missed you entering the office in all of your beautiful glory.

“Ooh cookies!” you exclaimed as you opened the unknown package on your table.

Spencer abruptly turned, hitting his side on the corners as he did. His eyes widened as he registered you holding the unsigned paper bag of treats on your desk. 

“They must be from Penny,” You continued on, oblivious to his presence and the devastation your remark caused him. Of course, he’d find another way to mess it up. You glanced around and your smile widened as you took in his handsome presence. “Oh hey Spence! Look, Penny made me cookies!” You tip-toed out of excitement. 

He smiled at your enthusiasm for something as simple as treats in the morning. The giggle you gave out as you entered the kitchenette was enough for him to slightly care less for the truth. He loved bringing out the happiness in you. It was like his own personal sunshine shining down on him, soaking him with vitamin D and boosting his overall sense of wellbeing. “Do you want coffee with that? It’s still hot,” he offered. 

You tapped the side of your hips with his as a sign of good will. “Thanks, Spence! This is turning out to be a great day, don’t you think?”

He watched as you busied yourself with putting cream and sugar in your of cup and sighed wistfully. “I think so too.”

And the last move Spencer did was recommended by no one but himself, the awkward 187 genius

With all three acts not delivering, he promised to try one last time without any outside interference besides from yours in his memory. You always did tell him to be himself in any situation, no matter how much he stumbled through any awkward situation—always there giving him a pat on the back for encouragement. 

Over the weekend, he spent his time reading two of your favorite books—which didn’t take much but he did read them again and again, regardless of his eidetic memory, trying to understand why these specific books were your comfort. Always pushed within the confines of your go bag, dog-eared and brown from age. He wanted to know how they’ve become an extension of you and how it had shaped you to the woman he has fallen in love with. 

He found himself hunched over his dining table, underlining sentences that made him think of you, scribbling away on the margins (and sometimes on post its too), and tabbing the written pages with a variety of colors that each represent an emotion. The act in it of itself made him feel closer to you than he thought possible. Lines in the books that made him think, ah so this was what formed your kind spirit. This is why your empathy knew no bounds. And this is why your beauty is inside and out.  

Spencer laid down to rest, anxious for the next day, Monday, to come. His heart threatening to beat out of his chest but his mind oddly calm as if it had a precognition that everything would turn out just right.

———

You arrived earlier than he did, throwing him off balance. 

“Hey Spence!” You greeted with a smile. “I got you a croissant and some coffee from that shop near my place.”

He blushed and stammered out a thank you. You were wearing a deep purple blouse that matched the scarf around his neck—the birthday gift you’ve given. He was no believer of the mystics but he took all of these as a sign from the stars. There was no way he would mess this up now.

“I—I got you something too,” he looked inside his satchel, hands shaking from it all. Gods, he wished this would go well or else, he might just die from embarrassment. “It’s nothing much but—I read your two favorite books and just—I wanted to discuss it with you,” he brought out the tabbed copies and presented them to you. “These are for you. I know you have copies of your own but I-I put my own notes on which lines reminded me of you.”

Your face turned red at the notion behind it all. Here was the BAU genius, the certified lover of the classics and the academia, the man who had your affections since day one, reading two contemporary literatures just for him to present you a gift like no other. You reached out and hugged the precious copies to your chest. 

“Thank you, no one’s ever done this for me before,” you breathed out, falling deeper into attraction with the perfection in front of you. “ Hey Spence, I may sound delusional asking this and you can say no if you want to but—” you visibly gulped, unaware of the audience nearby. “—would you like to have dinner with me? I make a mean lasagna.”

He turned red and vigorously nodded. “Y-Yes. Yes, I’d love to have dinner with you.”

You giggled, sounding like wind chimes to his ears. He did too, giggle I mean, from the triumph of finally knowing that his feelings were willingly reciprocated.

“Finally, you love birds!” Morgan shouted as he swung his arm around Spencer. “Didn’t know how much we could take from this pretty boy—” pointing at him “asking for advice and you—” pointing at you “—pretty girl is as dense as a rock. Tell me again how’d you end up as profiler with those observation skills.” 

A hand whacked him at the back. “Way to ruin the moment, Morgan.” Elle chided before turning to Spencer with a smile. “See told you, you could get a date.”

[quin-ns]

Always Forever (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)

Word count: 8.2K

Summary: coriolanus finally lets himself acknowledge that he can’t stand to see you with anyone but him

Tags: (18+), cw: dubcon, cw: noncon, pseudo!incest (not related, reader raised with the snows), dark!coriolanus, pre-mentor era, jealousy/obsession/possessiveness, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, fear of getting caught, lots of drama for my lovely readers

A/N: second coryo fic and it’s somehow longer than the last one lol. only one part. pls read the tags and proceed with caution 🫶

hunger games masterlist

“Look at you, you look so pretty!” Tigris beamed, adjusting the straps of your dress. “Doesn’t she, Coryo?”

In his peripheral, Coriolanus could see his cousin had turned to look at him expectantly, but his eyes were already on you. They always had been, and always would be.

“Yes, she does,” he replied without thought.

You faced him with a smile, and Coriolanus couldn’t help the pride that swarmed him just looking at you.

It was because of him that you were in his life, and until the day he died Coriolanus knew it would remain the best decision he ever made.

As children during the war, when he and Tigris would scavenge the streets, Coriolanus stumbled across you. Not much younger than him, huddled behind a pillar, all alone. You had a half a loaf of bread. It wasn’t fresh, but he still didn’t understand where you got it. You tore it in half and shared it with him.

He returned to Tigris with you in tow, his small hand clutching your even smaller one, and his cousin took pity.

She also took the brunt of the consequence for bringing home another mouth to feed, but sacrifices had to be made, didn’t they?

It was worth it. You were worth it to him—to both of them, really.

As you got older, Grandma’am eventually took a liking to you, although Coriolanus wondered if it was because she could see how much he cared for you.

It didn’t matter. Not really. You were part of the family now, even if you did not share the Snow name.

“Thank you, Tigris,” you said sweetly, pulling the older girl into a hug.

It was a big day for both you and Coriolanus. The academy was hosting an event for students to mingle with administration and alumni of the university.

Coriolanus had put on his best outfit—he already knew it was the same one he was going to wear when the Plinth Prize winner was announced in only a few weeks. He was sure it was going to be him.

Tigris had fashioned your dress by hand. Coriolanus was past questioning how she paid for her fine fabrics, but he had an inclination it was the same way they could suddenly afford food some days.

The long dress reminded Coriolanus of freshly fallen snow, the white holding a sense of purity and wealth that his family once had. It had a sense of elegance that you only furthered with donning it, but it lacked an extravagance that would force you to stand out.

It was perfect.

You parted from Tigris to approach Coriolanus. You had a light smile on your face as your hands ran down his black vest, adjusting it.

“We almost match,” you commented, referring to the white shirt beneath said vest. “If only I had something black.”

“Well, I’d let you borrow this, but then we’d be in the same position, only switched,” he teased lightly, drawing a small chuckle from you.

Coriolanus liked when you looked up at him, same as he liked hearing your laugh.

“Don’t worry, I’ll survive without.” Your hands fell to your sides. “Besides, it definitely looks more handsome on you.”

Hearing those words from you meant more than you’d ever know, and more than he’d let himself acknowledge.

You were so good to him, he couldn’t imagine spending the evening with anyone else.

When he walked into the ballroom of the academy with you on his arm, Coriolanus got a rush of power. Especially when heads turned. Looking at him, looking at you, just looking.

He wondered what the minds behind all those gazing eyes were thinking.

He hoped it was a balanced amount of envy and respect.

“We should find Sejanus, let him know we’re here,” you said, not thinking much of the sentence as you looked around the room, taking in the people and the decor.

Coriolanus thought everything of it, a sourness settling over him. Sejanus was his friend, but Coriolanus wished they hadn’t gotten as close as they did. It was because of his friendship with Sejanus that you met him, and began to develop… feelings for him.

God, Coriolanus hated to even think about it.

When you told him you had begun dating Sejanus, Coriolanus nearly had a heart attack. Then he felt violent. Not towards you. Never towards you.

It wasn’t just because he felt protective of you, or because Sejanus was district, or because Coriolanus knew you were far, far too good for his friend… it was everything. All of that and everything in between.

Before you could find him, Sejanus found you.

He was in a fine black suit, finer than anything Coriolanus owned, and a bright smile appeared on his face at the sight of you.

That was one thing they still had in common. Reverence for you.

“Had to come find my girl before everyone thinks she ditched me,” Sejanus joked, pulling a laugh from you. “Where have you guys been?”

“Making sure we look our best,” you replied, shooting Coriolanus a wink.

If Sejanus wasn’t reaching for you, Coriolanus might’ve smiled.

“Well, you did a wonderful job.”

Coriolanus let you slip away from his side, reluctantly giving you away to Sejanus.

The unfortunate thing was Sejanus was truly a decent person. Not perfect, but decent. Better than most, even if he was beneath you all. You cared nothing for status, and seemed to really like him. He treated you right from what Coriolanus had seen, making disapproval not exactly warranted.

Although, Coriolanus was always going to be incredibly protective of you. He doubted there was a world where he would be pleased with any relationship you found. Your interest in other people was becoming tiresome, truthfully. Did you really even need friends? Or lovers? You had Coriolanus, and he was sure that was enough.

His jaw clenched when you pressed a light kiss to Sejanus’s cheek. It would be much simpler if he was a terrible person. Coriolanus would have an excuse outside of his own selfishness to separate you—which he did not have now.

“Can I ask for this dance?” Sejanus wondered, shooting you a smile. At least he had the awareness to still look anxious.

But you… you grinned. You were too good.

“Well you just asked, so I guess you can,” you started sarcastically, but let him off the hook quickly. “And of course I’ll say yes.”

Sejanus looked relieved, taking your hand in his. You turned to look at Coriolanus, a small bit of guilt in your expression. You clearly hadn’t been planning on leaving his side so soon. You masked it with the same teasing tone you’d used before.

“I won’t be long, don’t get too bored without me, Coryo.”

Coriolanus only smiled for your sake. It fell the moment Senjanus led you away to a small group of other students dancing together.

From the sidelines, Coriolanus watched as Sejanus led you in a slow dance. He tried to avoid his eyes landing on his friend. He didn’t want to view the two of you in the same light as the other couples embracing one another.

Coriolanus tried to remember the first moment he realized how beautiful you were. It was so long ago, it wasn’t something he was even aware he thought so often.

The sun rose in the morning, roses had thorns, and you were beautiful.

It was simple as that.

After a dance and a half, Coriolanus couldn’t take it anymore.

His feet carried him to the dance floor, mind absent as he tried to justify his jealousy as protectiveness. Yes, that’s all he was. Protective. Like an older brother… like what he was supposed to be. Even if it wasn’t what he wanted to be.

You and Sejanus were swaying and talking, but as he snuck up on the two of you, Coriolanus couldn’t make out the words. It didn’t matter.

You turned your head to look at him, smiling in surprise at his presence.

“Coryo!”

“Can I cut in?” Coriolanus requested. His hand itched to rest on your shoulder, but he withheld. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and he briefly wondered if Sejanus sensed that or not.

“All yours,” Sejanus agreed, spinning you by the hand. You turned in a circle, then a half, facing Coriolanus. “I’m going to go find my father, he’s here tonight,” he informed.

“I’ll come find the two of you in a few minutes,” you told Sejanus, who nodded then headed off. Before he did, he looked to Coriolanus and said, “Take good care of her.”

“I always do,” Coriolanus responded easily, because it was the truth. He didn’t need Sejanus telling him that. He’d been there for you long before either of you even knew his friend existed. He looked down to you, taking your hand in his while the other fell to your waist. You looked amused. “I do, don’t I?”

“Yes, Coryo,” you replied with a smile. “Better than anyone.”

The slow waltz felt so natural, your movements in tune with his without thought. You two were always like that, always in sync.

“What were you and Sejanus talking about?” Coriolanus wondered, curiosity getting the best of him.

“Nothing important,” you dismissed with a shrug. “Sweet nothings.”

Coriolanus didn’t miss the shy smile appearing on your face. He couldn’t control the frown trying to take over his.

A more thoughtful look crossed your face, your smile faltering.

“Are you happy for me, Coryo?”

Coriolanus blinked.

“I… want to be,” he confessed, eyes scanning your face. It was the truth for the most part. He did want you to be happy, just not with Sejanus.

You nodded slowly, taking in his words. Coriolanus wished he could open your head and investigate every corner of your brain. He wanted to know every thought you had.

“Sejanus is your friend, I would’ve thought…” you swallowed and looked away. “Never mind.”

“No, what is it?” Coriolanus pressed, tilting his head, trying to make you meet his gaze.

When you did, he saw the disappointment in your eyes.

You stepped back from him, parting completely.

“I need to find Sejanus. I’ll put in a good word for you about the Plinth Prize with his father.”

Then, you departed, not leaving room for Coriolanus to argue for you to stay.

He would’ve, and you knew that.

The moment you disappeared from his view, Coriolanus went looking. You had moved quickly. He found you across the room, sitting down at a table with Sejanus and Mr. Plinth.

He didn’t approach, he couldn’t make himself look bad in front of Mr. Plinth.

So he watched you talk, and drink, and laugh, and drink some more…

“I can’t believe she’s doing this,” Arachne whispered, suddenly appearing at his side. Coriolanus looked down at her. She was clearly talking about you. He could see the way she flicked her heavily decorated eyes in your direction. “Associating with him was one thing, but… well”—Arachne let out a vicious laugh—“do you think their children will call her “Ma” too?”

Coriolanus felt ill at the thought. Leave it to Arachne to provoke him, to conjure up nightmares he hadn’t even thought of yet himself.

“She’ll come to her senses,” Coriolanus muttered, gritting his teeth.

Arachne rolled her eyes. “Let’s hope so,” she mused, continuing on her way, blood red dress dragging behind her with each step.

Coriolanus looked back to you. He was overwhelmed with nausea as Sejanus grabbed your hand atop the table. Damn Arachne for placing that thought in his head.

He watched as you lifted another glass to your lips, smiling along as Sejanus talked to his father. What was that, your third? Sejanus had yet to say anything to you. He was fine with allowing you to get intoxicated?

Drinking alcohol wasn’t exactly a crime, but Sejanus didn’t know you well enough to know you were inexperienced. The last thing Coriolanus wanted was you making a fool of yourself.

Darker thoughts crept in. Maybe Sejanus was allowing you to inebriate yourself on purpose. The thought of him climbing on top to you made Coriolanus’s blood boil. His fingers twitched to form a fist, and his jaw clenched even tighter.

In that moment, Coriolanus decided he wouldn’t let Arachne’s mockery come true.

He had to help you. You needed his protection, even when you didn’t know it. You needed him. You always would. Coriolanus could remind you, then perhaps you'd see you didn’t even need Sejanus at all.

When you left the table—Coriolanus wasn’t sure why—he saw his opportunity. He approached you quickly, finding no problem in catching your arm and leading you away from the party. Away from all the people, where it could just be the two of you.

Out a door, down a long, empty corridor until the two of you ended up outside in the school’s garden. It was isolated from the party, you’d be safer here.

“Coryo? What—“

“Are you alright?” Coriolanus asked, cutting you off. He released you to stand across from you, leaving you to lean back against the stone wall behind you. “I saw how much you were drinking.”

You looked up at him, confused, but not frightened. If anyone else had handled you the way he did, you surely would’ve been. But you trusted him. You always had.

“Did I drink a lot?” you asked, a slight pout on your lips. “I didn’t notice.”

“Oh.” So, you were okay. That was good, wasn’t it? “I thought maybe you needed rescuing,” he admitted, unsure whether to feel embarrassed or not.

You chuckled a little and the sound washed over Coriolanus, bringing him a sense of relief from all his previous tension.

“My hero,” you said lightly, smiling up at him. You were always smiling at him, but Coriolanus no longer wondered if he was worthy of it all. “You’re always there for me, aren’t you?”

Coriolanus stepped closer. His hand rose, his fingertips trailing the outline of your face. Someone so pretty, so sweet, had to be careful in a cruel world like this.

“What would you do without me?” he proposed, not expecting an answer.

You didn’t need one, because you never would have to find out.

He’d follow you to the end of the Earth, just as he knew you’d follow him. You needed each other. You didn’t need Tigris or Grandma’am and especially not Sejanus, but without Coriolanus, who would you even be? Coriolanus couldn’t imagine his world without you in it. Not even if he tried.

Staring at you now, Coriolanus heard the voice in the back of his mind begin to whisper. The one that urged his protectiveness, knowing it was fueled by possession. The one he would use all his power to silence.

Something new had overcome him, watching you galavant around with Sejanus. Well, not new, but clear. Coriolanus finally had clarity. That’s what it was. That was how he finally acknowledged what had so long been lingering in his peripheral, just on the edge of his mind, waiting for the right moment.

Was this the right moment?

He made no effort to banish his most repressed thoughts. For once, he let them win.

Coriolanus leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. Gentle, testing the waters. You did not react right away. Maybe it wasn’t necessarily a good sign, but that didn’t stop him from using it as an excuse to deepen the kiss.

His other hand found your face, holding you against him as he nipped at your lip, begging you to invite him in.

Your reaction was delayed, and Coriolanus thought maybe, just maybe, you had been thinking the same thing he had all along. That the faint taste of alcohol on your lips meant you were feeling more open to exploring this with him, and that all you needed was a nudge in the right direction.

But no, you were turning your head, making his lips part from yours.

Coriolanus faltered, but you still did not speak. Your breaths were clipped—flustered and confused. He could understand that. His own heart was racing, although adrenaline and need were to blame for that.

“Coryo…” you whispered so softly he nearly didn’t hear it. “What are you doing?”

Leave it to you to not get angry with him. Or even upset. At this point he questioned if you were even capable of feeling anger at him.

Coriolanus stepped closer, making you have to tilt your head up to look at him.

“I don’t think I can share you,” he confessed under his breath, but with conviction. “I know I can’t and you… you don’t need anyone else. You have me.”

You swallowed, eyes looking down. “Sejanus—“

“Doesn’t know you like I do,” Coriolanus finished, one hand still holding your cheek, tilting your head, making you meet his eye again. “Seeing you with him… he’s not good enough for you.”

“I thought you were above judging him for being district.” You sounded so disappointed in him.

“I don’t care that he’s district, he’s not good enough because no one will ever be,” Coriolanus corrected, imploring you to understand.

With a light sigh, his eyes fell shut. Gently, he leaned to press his forehead to yours. He blindly reached for your hands, and found them in each of his with no problem.

“I would not be happy seeing you with anyone else,” Coriolanus confessed, voice low. “Not anyone but me.”

You inhaled slightly. Was it that big of a shock?

He gave you no chance to voice it because Coriolanus was capturing your lips again, passion erupting in his veins.

His mind was clouded with thoughts that fought for center attention, his built up desires controlling him as his hands and lips cascaded down your body. Your neck, your chest, your stomach—

“Coryo, what are you doing?” you questioned when he began to move lower.

“Shh, don’t worry,” he cooed, dismissing your concern.

Coriolanus finally fell to his knees in front of you. He’d never take such a humiliating position for anyone else. But with you, it didn’t feel humiliating. It was exhilarating, knowing he was on his knees worshiping you, but he still held all the power. It was nearly perfect.

You gasped a little when he gripped your right leg and maneuvered it over his shoulder. More of your weight rested back against the wall, unable to stand straight on just one leg.

He looked upward, watching your face the entire time as he pushed your dress up around your hips, revealing your underwear to him.

Coriolanus was so close and you had yet to move.

Words couldn’t find their way to his lips. It was all too overwhelming in the best way. His heart slamming against his rib cage was a welcome feeling, and so was the pressure on his knees.

You bucked away before his mouth could reach your core. Coriolanus didn’t think much of it. He had a lot of other images rushing through his brain. Ones he wanted to become reality.

He scooted forward and tried again, this time making contact with the layer of fabric separating him from your most intimate spot.

Coriolanus heard a choked noise from you as he ran his tongue across the front of your underwear.

Right away, he wanted more.

His hands found the material acting as a barrier and he gripped it then pulled, tearing it from you one leg at a time, exposing you to him.

Before it could fall to the ground, he caught the shredded material and stuffed it into his pocket.

He felt a bit guilty, knowing how little you all had when it came to clothing, but he wanted to do this the right way. Coriolanus wanted nothing blocking him from showing you how good he could make you feel.

As much as his eyes were tempted to linger, impatience got the best of him.

He made contact again, licking a stripe across your bare cunt. Once he got a taste, Coriolanus couldn’t hold back.

His mouth latched onto you, tongue sliding between your folds, drawing a stifled moan from you. You reached for his head, trying to knock him away, but Coriolanus persisted. His will easily overtook yours. You weren’t going to take this away from him, not when he could make you want it just as bad.

He held onto the leg over his shoulder, gripping your flesh, surely leaving bruises in his wake. He held the skirt of your dress up with the other hand. With his mouth, he devoured you. Lapping at your core like a man starved, even more so when wetness began to form.

This wasn’t something Coriolanus had done, but he knew you better than anyone. He was sure he could figure out your body. He���d dreamt about it long enough, making you fall apart for him in such an intimate way.

He soon found that to be the truth when in only a matter of minutes your body was tensing. He continued to drag his tongue across you, giving every bit of you his full attention. He liked the way your thighs quivered when his tongue brushed your clit, it gave him an excuse to hold you tighter.

Your whole body flinched suddenly, but he shoved your hips back, pinning you to the wall as he brought you to the edge

His own pants felt constricted as his senses were overwhelmed by you. Your taste, your scent, the sound of your choked down moans, your hands smacking the wall (unsure what else to do), the feel of you against his tongue and how your leg strained over his shoulder, and the sight of you when he looked up through his lashes… god, you were magnificent.

You whimpered from above, teeth digging into your bottom lip, as he finally made you come undone.

Coriolanus held you still, relishing in the way you finally jolted into his touch instead of away.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were the stuff of dreams in the most literal sense.

Your head tilted back against the wall, your ragged breaths causing your chest to rise and fall in an unsteady pattern. Your leg, still draped over his shoulder, was tense, even as he pressed a gentle kiss to your inner thigh.

A wide grin spread across Coriolanus’s face when you shivered. He couldn’t help himself. He nearly chuckled at your state, but then your hand moved to rake through his wavy locks. The sound caught in his throat as you tugged him away, finally looking down at him. The all consuming pleasure had faded into something more composed.

Coriolanus could tell how much of an effort you were making, and as your eyes struggled to focus, he briefly wondered how strong your drinks were.

“I’d like to go home now,” you said slowly, conscious not to let your voice falter.

You allowed him to help get both to your feet on the ground, but you did not touch him for the rest of the night, even when he tried to reach for you.

He was still hard behind the confines of his pants, imagining the slickness between your thighs that was the result of his actions. As you walked back through the ballroom, it took everything he had to not push you back against a nearby wall. People be damned, he wanted you more than anything.

He would press his chest to your back—no, he’d make you face him. Coriolanus wanted access to your lips so he could kiss you as much as he liked, even swallow down your moans when he lifted your dress around your stomach and—

A shiver of excitement coursed through Coriolanus’s body. What would your darling Sejanus think if he knew what just transpired? If he knew it was only for your dignity that Coriolanus wasn’t fucking you against the wall hard enough that you forgot where you even were?

You silently bid the party a farewell, forgetting to say goodbye to Sejanus (Coriolanus made no attempts to remind you). You continued to ignore him, hardly speaking and not even looking his way. Not as you walked from the school to the apartment. Stumbling up the stairs, you only spoke to claim you were fine as you gripped the handrail for dear life. Then you went back to silence as you traveled from the front door to your bedroom and locked the door.

Coriolanus only found out about the door because he’d tried to follow you in, but the door knob did not budge. You never used your lock.

Even if you weren’t ready to finish what had been started, it was still incredibly cold. Were you really upset enough to deprive him of your presence until the morning?

“What’s going on with you?” Coriolanus asked through the layer of wood. The taste of you still lingered on his tongue as it traced his bottom lip, waiting for your response. “Can we talk? Can you open the door?”

He gripped the knob tighter and tried again. It wasn’t going to suddenly unlock, but something urged him to prove it.

There was a faint thud as his forehead fell to the door, much as it had to yours not too long ago.

“Can I at least say goodnight to you?”

Again, no response.

He swallowed. Cleared his throat.

Again.

“Please?”

If they could afford to fix it, Coriolanus would break the door down.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood outside your door before begrudgingly going to his own room.

He laid in his bed and fished the underwear from his pocket. Your scent still lingered on them, and it was enough to fuel his imagination as he unbuttoned his pants and pretended his own hand on his cock was yours.

Even after finishing, Coriolanus had a nearly sleepless night. His mind was plagued with memories of his lips on yours, your dress bunched around your hips, him on his knees with his mouth on your cunt. He’d never forget the sounds you made.

When the sun rose, he returned to your door, only to find it still locked. He didn’t even knock, just simply grabbed the door knob and twisted.

You always woke up early for school, putting yourself together in a way that could reflect wealth that you did not truly have. Coriolanus was sure you did it for his sake, knowing how much appearances mattered to him.

You were good to him like that.

If only you’d let him in now.

The laugh that escaped him lacked humor. It was a bitter, frustrated sound.

His hands rested on his hips, his own fingertips pressing in. It was that or gripping the door knob and if he touched that thing again and found it locked…

“This isn’t funny anymore, Y/N,” Coriolanus called through the door. “If there’s a problem we can talk about it. Just stop acting like a child.”

“What, did she steal your blazer again?” Tigris wondered, appearing out of nowhere. Despite her voice being soft with sleep, Coriolanus was still startled.

“No, just a minor disagreement,” Coriolanus replied, quick on his feet as always. “Nothing to worry about, I’m sure we’ll talk it out.”

He emphasized the word ‘talk’, hoping you’d hear him through the door. If you did, he wouldn’t know. Tigris, on the other hand, just nodded and headed for the kitchen.

The smile he gave his cousin on her way was forced. She couldn’t tell that his teeth were clenched together, which was for the best.

A thought dawned on him. You could just be testing him.

Coriolanus knocked on the door and waited, like he’d just solved your puzzle.

What was that thing about insanity—trying the same thing over and over and expecting a different result?

“You’re going to have to come out of your room at some point,” he reminded, trying his best to make it not sound like a warning.

Coriolanus wasn’t used to being frustrated with you. You were usually his relief from people who made him feel this way. He didn’t understand why everything changed all of the sudden.

You’d enjoyed yourself while he got what he wanted. Why was that so bad?

You had always been an enigma, but Coriolanus felt as if he’d come to understand you—that he was the only one who did or would.

Sejanus would never know you the way he did, that was for certain.

From in your room, Coriolanus heard movement. Your dresser opening, maybe. It didn’t matter. You were awake. And ignoring him.

“Y/N? I know you’re awake.” The neediness in his voice was embarrassing. No one else could make him resort to this. “I can hear you. Are you coming out?”

“What is going on?” Grandma’am questioned, standing at the end of the hall. “You aren’t dressed for school. We can’t have you being late.”

Coriolanus looked down at himself. He’d gone to sleep in the outfit he’d worn the night before, and still wore it now.

Arguments died in his throat. You and Coriolanus walked to the academy together. You’d have to come out and talk to him. Grandma’am would drive you crazy if you missed a day of classes.

In record time, Coriolanus was in his uniform.

He might’ve been quick, but apparently you were quicker. As he opened the door to his room, he heard the front door shut.

“Whatever you did, Coryo, apologize,” Tigris advised when he chased the sound of your exit.

Coriolanus just looked at her. Why on Earth would he do that? He’d done nothing wrong.

Down the stairs and out of the building, Coriolanus finally—finally—got a glimpse of you. A flash of red as you turned the corner, setting off down the sidewalk.

It took nothing for him to catch up to you.

“How are you feeling?” he wondered first, recalling your drunken state. “I was worried about you.”

“Were you?” you challenged, eyes forward.

It was good to hear your voice, but Coriolanus furrowed his brows at your tone. You had no reason to be this rude.

“Of course I was, Y/N. How can you even ask me that?” His hand dropped to your shoulder, only for you to shrug it away. “What is wrong with you?”

You looked at him, finally, but the emotion in your gaze… there was something wrong with it. Something distant, lacking the affection those beautiful eyes of yours usually held for him.

Coriolanus swallowed.

“Are you really going to be like this? Is it because of Sejanus? You don’t have to be with him anymore.”

You turned your head forward.

“Leave me alone, I’d like to walk in silence.”

Since when had you become so spiteful? Coriolanus didn’t like it. It evoked something similar in him. He leaned down, getting near your ear.

“You liked it, I know you did,” he hissed out. Coriolanus hadn’t meant for it to come out so harsh, but you were being completely unfair to him right now. “You can’t lie to me.”

Despite the way you shuddered, your jaw remained clenched. You not talking to him was more infuriating than if you had screamed in his face. At least that way he could tell what you were thinking. But no, you wouldn’t allow him to be privy to your inner thoughts, no matter how much effort he put into prying them from you.

It wasn’t a conversation for the public, even Coriolanus knew that, so when you got to the academy a few steps ahead of him, he bit his tongue.

“What did you do to piss off your sister?” Clemensia asked him in a whisper in class. “You’re usually attached at the hip walking in.”

The way she called you his sister felt wrong in a way that it hadn’t before. Even if he never thought it fit when people would say that or assume it, something had shifted.

And was it that obvious? Coriolanus hadn’t even brought it up. He’d simply been a few steps behind you into the classroom. You’d gone to your desk without a word. Was that strange to everyone else too? It was validating, in a way, to know your behavior was, in fact, targeted and odd, but it also made him wonder what the two of you appeared to be from an outside perspective.

“It’s nothing,” Coriolanus lied to her under his breath, keeping his eyes on his paper.

“So you didn’t get into a fight?”

Coriolanus’s brows curved down. He glanced her way.

“A fight?”

“Arachne and Festus saw you pull her away from Sejanus and disappear somewhere last night.”

It was mostly the truth, but she said it so nonchalantly. She couldn’t know what happened after you disappeared. Coriolanus hadn’t seen a single person lay their eyes on either of you in that private moment.

“I get it,” she continued. “I wouldn’t want to be associated with someone from the districts either. She’s not thinking about how she’ll be perceived, or you. Don’t let her drag you down.”

Coriolanus just listened, the night flashing through his mind. No one could’ve known, there was no way.

He quickly corrected the hypocrisy in his own mind. He hadn’t done anything wrong, it was just private. No one else deserved to see you in that state—no one but him.

“We’re fine,” Coriolanus told her. “And her and Sejanus aren’t together anymore.”

Clemensia smirked to herself. “Good.”

Word spread quickly, and with the way you avoided Sejanus—a byproduct of you avoiding Coriolanus—everyone believed it. The final nail was the way you failed to appear at lunch. It got under Sejanus’s skin, causing him to question the state of your relationship without you to answer any said questions.

Truthfully, Coriolanus hadn’t seen anything as amusing in a long while, but your absence weighed on him, too.

The walk home alone was dreadful without you. Even in the morning when you had ignored him, it was better than you being completely gone.

When he got home, your door was shut. How quickly had you left your classes, how fast had you walked, all to avoid him?

This was growing old very, very quickly.

Grandma’am was on the roof with her roses, and Tigris seemed to be missing from the apartment. It was only because of that that Coriolanus devised a way to get into your room.

Why he didn’t think of picking the lock before, Coriolanus supposed it was because he thought you’d give in quicker and let him get the better of you. You were usually weak to him, allowing him to get his way without a problem. You had before.

“Last chance,” Coriolanus called through the locked door. He almost thought that would be enough. He wanted you to open it of your own will. “You can’t avoid me forever, just let me in.”

No such luck.

You looked surprised when he forced the door open, as if you really believed he would just take the loss. You were supposed to know him better than that.

You’d been sitting on your bed in pajamas, evidently already done with the day. Your legs were criss-crossed with a textbook in your lap. You looked up at him, a questioning expression taking over your features.

“What are you doing, Coryo?” you asked, voice low, eyes not quite meeting his directly.

“You weren’t opening the door.” Coriolanus squared his shoulders. “I wanted to talk to you.”

You shook your head, something between a sigh and a laugh escaping you in a puff of air. Coriolanus did not like the accusatory undertone.

“Did you think maybe I left it locked on purpose?” Were you mocking him? “That I wasn’t lying this morning and I really don’t want to speak to you?”

“That’s ridiculous,” Coriolanus insisted, closing your door behind him. He moved towards your bed, watching your body language the entire time as he finally sat on the edge beside you. “You thought I would just let you ignore me?”

You swallowed, closing the book in your lap. “I guess not,” you admitted, setting the textbook aside. “I am well aware of your ego.”

A frown crested Coriolanus’s lip. “Is that what this is—you want to hurt me?”

You tilted your head, catching his gaze, much like he’d made you do the night before. It was the first time in nearly a day since you’d looked him dead in the eye.

“What do you want, Coryo?”

“I want you”

“You want me to what? Not be with Sejanus? Is that it? Is that why you did what you did?”

“You say that like it was something awful. I was there too.” Coriolanus felt a familiar heat rush through him at the memory. “I know what I saw.”

“You humiliated me.”

“In front of who? No one saw us.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is? Because you know Sejanus is weak?” Coriolanus searched your eyes and leaned in closer. He was feeling antagonistic. “I mean, how could he touch you, knowing I got there first?”

Coriolanus caught your hand as you raised it, presumably to strike him.

“Is that what we’ve resorted to?”

He squeezed your wrist, enough to cause pain. You winced and tried to move away, but Coriolanus wasn’t going to let you get away.

“I could ask you the same,” you sneered, sounding like an entirely different person.

“What has happened to you?” Coriolanus questioned. He took a breath. “Do you want me to be sorry for what I’ve said? Fine, then, I apologize. But I’m not sorry for what I’ve done. You should not be with him.”

“I’m supposed to believe someone driven by jealousy?” you inquired back, blinking back tears. Why were you being so dramatic? “How can I trust anything you have to say to me now?”

Coriolanus was taken aback by the question. Did you really not trust him anymore? Even with the tight hold on your wrist, he could feel you slipping from his grasp. If you were to leave him, he’d never forgive the universe for its twisted irony. Coriolanus put so much time and care into you because he wanted you. His family didn’t, at least not at first, but even so, you’d have nothing if it wasn’t for him. Is that what you wanted to leave him with now? Nothing? Nothing but the memory of when you were his?

No, that wouldn’t do.

It just wouldn’t.

“You can trust me, I promise,” Coriolanus insisted, pleading, even. “I love you, I always have—you can’t have expected me to sit back and do nothing while you…”

You looked more betrayed, if that was even possible. He was trying to make it better but explaining was only making it worse. Coriolanus had never met a person where the more he talked, the more he tried to persuade them, they believed him less. In that way again you were an anomaly.

If Coriolanus couldn’t tell you, he could show you. He had to make you understand—he could salvage this and get what he wanted in the end. If he was anything, it was persistent. It had worked before, excluding the aftermath.

Coriolanus moved, keeping his hold on your wrist as he shoved you down, pulling himself up and then on top of you in a fluid motion.

You squirmed, questioning, “What are you doing?”

Coriolanus caught your other hand and brought it to join your other wrist he already had a hold of in one hand. He straddled your waist, keeping your body pinned.

“You won’t listen to me,” he pointed out. Something inside him urged him to lean down. “But I can still prove it to you, that it’s me you should be with. No one else.”

Then he crashed his lips onto yours. It was more forceful than it had been the previous night, ensuring you couldn’t turn away again. His tongue was already in your mouth before you thought to turn your head.

It didn’t matter if you didn’t kiss him back, Coriolanus was in bliss. Your lips were soft, molding perfectly to his. You moaned into his mouth, or maybe it was a protest, but it made his body heat up all the same. Coriolanus couldn’t get enough of you. Last night left him wanting more, not less.

More than that, he was determined. When he finally detached his lips from yours, the both of you panting, Coriolanus set forth on a track that wouldn’t allow him to turn around.

Even if he tried to take it back, everything would already be changed.

So he didn’t even bother hesitating. Coriolanus was determined, even, at yanking your clothes from your body.

Your words were jumbled by the time they reached his ears. His own heart racing with excitement drowned out any requests you had for him.

The word “stop” left his vocabulary until you yelled it too loud for his liking.

Your whole body shook when he clapped his hand over your mouth. Your top was completely gone, your chest heaving as you breathed through your nose. While Coriolanus could’ve easily been distracted by your state, he trained his eyes on your wide ones.

The word helpless crossed his mind, and he had to take a moment to control himself.

“Grandma’am is upstairs,” Coriolanus finally warned, voice low. “Don’t disturb her.”

You blinked. Coriolanus was almost surprised by the way you settled down, but it told him you understood the implications of alerting her.

Your position beneath Coriolanus had to be better than starving and cold on the street, didn’t it?

You didn’t have Sejanus anymore. If you thought you did, Coriolanus would make sure to remedy that with his friend before you got to him first.

As Coriolanus lifted his hand from your mouth, he silently implored he was the only one who could save you from being branded a liar.

Just as Coriolanus had always admired, you were a quick learner. As heartbroken as you looked, you didn’t raise your voice again.

“This isn’t how you make me want to be with you,” you pleaded. Coriolanus wasn’t sure whether to laugh or take it as a challenge.

“We’ll see,” he mused in response.

He got you bare, and then himself.

You averted your eyes from his body, which offended him more than he thought it would.

“You can look,” Coriolanus said, voice heavy.

Something about his voice must’ve gotten to you, because your eyes flicked between his legs. You swallowed and looked back away.

A prideful smirk overtook Coriolanus’s face.

He moved then, still keeping hold on your wrists in one hand, dragging them down over your belly, and placed himself between your legs.

With one hand still holding your wrists, Coriolanus shoved his other hand in between your legs, two prodding fingers finding your entrance before making their way in. Eagerness won out over his patience. He could take things slow later.

You tensed around him, fighting the intrusion, but he wasn’t going to let you win. Even if you weren’t squirming against him, you were resistant. Coriolanus slowly worked at breaking your resolve, massaging his fingers inside your walls, thumb on your clit.

He could see shame wash over your features when a wetness began to form, coating his fingers and allowing him to work you open for him.

“See, you can lie to me, but your body can’t,” Coriolanus asserted, voice thick with arousal.

That triggered something in you, and perhaps Coriolanus reacted too harshly.

It felt like it all happened in a flash. One moment you were on your back, beneath him, clenching around his fingers, and the next he had to manhandle you onto your chest and knees to fend off your attack and keep you still. He regained his hold on your hands quickly, pinning them behind your back while you panted from the short lived exertion.

Coriolanus leaned down to press his lips to your ear.

“I thought we agreed you weren’t going to fight me,” he growled.

Your shoulders shifted as you found further discomfort in your new position, but you didn’t speak. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of your voice—just like before.

Coriolanus wanted to watch your face as you submitted to him and his love for you, but if this was the only way he could have you for now, so be it.

He lined himself up with your entrance, enjoying the twitch of your body as he pressed the tip in.

Despite all the effort to get you where you were now, Coriolanus slid his cock into you with ease. Your body welcomed him, even if you didn’t.

He couldn’t help himself, his hips bucked forward, shoving himself into you deep. You whimpered into the pillow and Coriolanus’s mind went blank for a moment, basking in the feel of your warm cunt around him. It was better than he imagined.

His cock twitched inside of you, eager to fill you, but he had to make this last. Just like before, Coriolanus wanted to make you feel good. So good you had no choice but to want him.

Coriolanus drew his hips back after a few moments of just resting inside you. When only the tip remained, he thrust forward. Your body rocked against the mattress.

He did it again, this time slower. Forcing you to feel the drag of his thick cock inside of you. Coriolanus liked the way your body quivered as you succumbed to the pleasure he could give you.

You felt like heaven, all wet and warm and squeezing around him in a way that made him want to never leave you.

To show he trusted you, Coriolanus let your hands go. They immediately fell to grip the pillow beneath your head. You didn’t go to fight him and that counted for something. He had an ulterior motive, though, because now he could hold your hips with both hands.

He leaned down, pressing kisses to your back. He ran his hands along your skin, drinking the entirety of you in as he moved inside of you.

His movements were a bit slow, calculated, making you feel every inch of him stretching you out. Coriolanus imagined you rocking your hips back, your moans filling the room, eager for more. That would have to be saved for another time when you were more willing.

You body tensed and shivered, and Coriolanus knew you were getting close. You still had yet to speak.

It was petty, the sudden sharp thrust of his hips to shove his cock deep and hard into you.

A gasp—he drew a gasp from you.

He allowed his weight to fully fall on top of you, finally. Your skin was so warm on his chest, it was as if your body was trying to burn him off of you. Maybe it was all in his head. But it didn’t really matter. It was far too late for that.

“It’s okay to want it,” Coriolanus muttered into your ear.

He felt your body reacting and you were moments away from what he’d been pushing you towards. His thrusts grew shallow, not letting too much of himself leave you as you finally came undone.

You buried your face into the pillow, muffling your cry as you finally came around his cock. It was then that he got what he wanted, even if it was only brief. Your body spasmed and pushed back, trying to feel every inch of him stretching you out, clenching down to hold him there.

Coriolanus followed you soon after, cock throbbing in your walls, spilling inside of you and painting them white. He held your hips so tight he was sure he’d leave bruises as he held himself still, letting the both of you experience the sensation in full.

After however long—Coriolanus didn’t count the minutes—he withdrew from your body. He was a gentleman, so he helped you to lay down before your body collapsed on its own.

He laid down beside you, pulling your blanket over the top of both of your bodies with the intention to bring you comfort.

You were wordless, rolling onto your side, facing away from him.

Coriolanus turned with you, wrapping his arms around your midsection and pulling you back to him. He pressed a kiss to the back of your head before resting his lips near your ear.

“Do you really think not talking to me is the best idea?” he whispered, less frustrated than before.

You shook in his arms, but your voice was steady as you asked, “What do you expect me to say to you?”

Coriolanus didn’t have to think all that long.

“That you love me.”

You were silent for a moment, Coriolanus thought he was going to have to repeat himself.

“I did love you,” you uttered, voice threatening to break. “But it wasn’t enough for you.”

Coriolanus could’ve been angry, but he knew he’d win you back. He had all the time in the world, knowing you wouldn’t dare continue your relationship with Sejanus. How could you? You were already spoken for.

You were Coriolanus’s, you always had been. He realized it before you, but he knew you’d come to learn the truth. You’d accept it eventually, and everything would fall into place exactly as he wanted.

[bruisedboys]

reader and peeta showering together after a hard day (just some innocent intimacy nothing suggestive) 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 love this man sm 😭🤞🏻🤞🏻

!!!!!! thank you for the req angel <3 this inspired me so so much! thanks for kickstarting my writing for peeta era hehe

peeta mellark x fem!reader 16+ please for non-sexual nudity. not really in universe but can read as post mockingjay if you want it to!

Peeta’s sketching on the bed when you come inside. One knee propped up with his back against the wall behind the bed, his sketchbook pressed against his thigh. His golden hair falls over his forehead, messy where he’s been too distracted by his drawing to push it back.

He looks up when you enter, smiling a bruising smile you don’t feel deserving of.

“Hey. Hey, sweetheart.” It’s alarming how quickly he sets aside his book and pencil to reach for you, as if he hadn’t been immersed in his sketching mere seconds ago. “C’mere, I missed you.”

As much as you’d like to be wrapped in his strong arms right now, you’re filthy, and he’s just changed the sheets earlier today.

“I can’t. I’m all dirty, see?” You wiggle your dirt-covered hands at him. You’ve been in the garden all afternoon. Time drifted away from you as you planted a new batch of tomato seeds. By the time you were done, the sun was setting and you hadn’t even realised. Your knees are stained dark brown and you’ve got dirt up to your elbows. “I’ll shower first, then we can cuddle. Sorry, baby.”

Peeta looks decidedly put out. You turn away from him before he can convince you any further, because you know if he looks at you like that for much longer you’ll give in. You pull fresh clothes from your side of the dresser and then move down the hallway to the bathroom.

The showers warming up and you’re starting to undress when Peeta knocks on the door. It’s unlocked, and he doesn’t have to, but he knocks anyway.

“It’s me,” he says. Who else would it be? You think. Silly man. “Can I come in?”

You pull the door open for him instead of answering. You’re halfway out of your clothes but it doesn’t phase him. Sure, he looks, but not for long, and not in a way that would suggest anything other than affection.

“Hey,” he says. He pushes the door closed behind him. The shower runs in the background, a peaceful thrum. “Do you mind if I join you? You can say no.”

You huff a soft laugh. He should know by now that saying no to him is a near impossible feat. “Yeah, of course. I don’t mind.”

You finish undressing quickly, eager to be clean and warm. Peeta leaves to get fresh towels while you hop in under the hot spray. The majority of the dirt on your skin has been rinsed by the time he gets back. You hear him moving around the bathroom for a minute or so before he pulls the shower curtain aside. You let him in, moving aside to make space for him. It’s tight, but it’s not uncomfortable. Weirdly, it’s almost a perfect fit for the two of you.

Peeta moves under the shower head and the water quickly drenches one half of his hair and one of his shoulders. His big hand slides over your hip and he carefully moves you into a position where you’ve both got equal spray.

“Hi,” he says, smiling. He’s so close you could count his freckles, each light brown spot scattered across his collarbones.

“Hello,” you say back. His thumb rubs your hipbone, up down, up down. “Is it too warm?”

“No, it’s perfect.”

You smile and touch your palm to his cheek. “You okay?” You’re not asking because he seems out of sorts. You’re asking because you want to know, and if he’s not he’ll tell you. He does the same for you. It’s just how you love each other.

Peeta nods. “Yeah, I’m okay. How did your gardening go?”

You beam. You love that he cares about what you care about. “Good. We’ll have tomatoes growing out of our ears by summer, I think.”

Peeta laughs. It’s a brilliant sound that bounces off the shower walls and warms your chest. “Awesome,” he grins. Then, “Hey, you’ve got dirt under your ear.” He reaches behind you to grab the flannel hanging on the shower caddy. “Look that way for me?”

He holds you still with a hand at your jaw and rubs the dirt from your skin so gently you barely feel it. His touch is like a magnet — you’re drawn to it over and over again, no matter how generously he gives it to you. When he asks if he can wash your hair, you’d be crazy if you said no.

“Yeah, please,” you tell him, past caring how desperate and needing of his touch and love you are. He knows, anyway.

Peeta turns you by the hips so your back is to him, then gently tilts your head backwards. You hand him your shampoo and he squeezes a dollop onto his hands, rubbing his palms together before spreading the bubbles over the top of your head. He’s very, very gentle with it, much more than you’ve ever been, massaging the soapy, sweet-smelling bubbles into your hair, fingers rubbing circles onto your scalp. His dedicated touch, along with the gentle thrum and warmth of the shower spray, is enough to almost put you to sleep.

“Okay, you can rise now,” Peeta speaks up. His tone is soft and you suspect he’s noticed your sleepiness. He gets very soft with you when you’re tired. “Shut your eyes, please.”

You do as he says and he directs you under the spray. He holds a hand over your forehead like a barrier so the bubbles can’t escape and sneak into your closed eyes. The action in itself makes your chest ache. He cares more than you could ever comprehend.

When he’s done rinsing you finish scrubbing the dirt from your knees, your elbows. Peeta washes his own hair, and you help him rinse the same way he did for you.

“Thank you, angel,” he says. Warm water and soapy bubbles stream over his shoulders, his neck. His eyelashes are wet, clinging to each other in sparkly triangles. He dips down and kisses your shoulder, then your cheek. “Love you.”

You beam. You love him more than anything. You get on your toes to kiss him properly, a warm press of your mouth on his, a promise for more of the same later, when you’re clean and dry and fed. “Love you too, Peeta.”

-

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if u enjoyed 🤍

[mischiefmaker615]

Take Two

Summary: Somehow you find yourself facing 2 Loki's! but don't worry.. you're in safe hands..

Loki from the Thor films will be be Loki(OG) and Loki will be from Ragnarok/Infinity Wars era. bare with me *sweats*

Rated: R

Note: *sweats more* my first threesome one shot of some sorts..

Front row seats: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @eleniblue @itgirl-cad @firelightinferno @liminalpebble @izka8520 @huntedmusicgardenn @loki-laufeyson223 @skittslackoffilter

‘’you will not harm her.’’

‘’I have no intentions on harming her, I assure you. just those who are in my way..’’

You lost track of how many times your eyes have gone back and forth until they gave up once you began getting circled. You had no memory of what had happened a few hours ago, just how you went to bed and.. that’s it. was this a dream? A nightmare? No.. it couldn’t be.. Loki was here, you knew you wouldn’t be harmed.. yet you still tried wrapping your head around the fact that somehow your wrists were strapped to a chair. The cold temperature in the room reminded you just how short your nightgown was as it stopped mid-thigh, hugging your body tighter then the oxygen that struggled to leave your lungs as you took in the scene before you.

Loki(OG) passed your right side once more, chest out and strutting elegantly in his royal attire of leather and armor. His eyes weren’t on you, thankfully.. his dagger clutched in his hand as he held his attention on his opponent that came before you once more in a completely circle and they both kept going. This Loki was dressed similarly just.. less armor, a more casual form but still held the vibe that he was royal and could strike you down in half a second- thus clutching his own dagger with his eyes on the.. other Loki.

‘’where am i?’’ you manage to get your mouth to form words as you realized you were shaking. ‘’how did I get here?-‘’ it looked like you were almost in an interrogation room, with you three being the only ones in the light, surrounded by darkness. If anyone would take a few steps back anywhere, they would surly not be seen. However your voice was enough to have them both pause a few steps away from either side of you, their stance still in defense towards the other but their eyes at least never showed you anything with bad intentions..

‘’you are safe darling, we are.. unsure of our whereabouts as well-‘’ Loki(OG) started, his voice gentle as if it were to calm you as his eyes traveled your body as you shook.

‘’we both know you, it is quite difficult to know who exactly you belong too- but I am most certainly not going to give you up if there is a slight chance you are mistakenly placed’’ Loki snapped as he held his dagger defensively towards the other Loki(OG), fully intending to protect you as your body tensed.

‘’what are you talking about?’’

‘’the multiverse.’’ They both said in unison.

That’s right.. now you remember.. Dr Strange must have accidently hit you instead of.. whoever you were fighting and must have sent you.. here? whatever universe you were stuck in now,.. you supposed this one had multiple Loki’s.

‘’not multiple love, but the same, in each stage of life brought together. Or at least… the two of us. The other’s in the other branches must not have been affected.’’ Loki(OG) explained, smirking as your eyes widened at the fact that he had read your mind.

‘’in our branch, there is a version of you, exactly how you are now. You disappeared.. I am here to take you back with me where you belong.’’ Loki said gently, as if his tone alone would convince you but the other Loki(OG) stepped closer.

‘’she belongs on my timeline- I will not lose her again’’ Loki(OG) snapped and they both starred each other down.

‘’I remember-‘’ you started, making them both look back at you. ‘’I was attacked in my apartment, some Hydra agents that Strange was tracking- something happened and I was accidently sent here to these.. to a different branch as you say..’’ you explained, getting why you were in your nightgown now. ‘’but that still doesn’t explain why I’m tied up-‘’

Loki(OG) chuckled, turning your attention over to him. ‘’you have a tendency to be a bit.. feisty when you awaken suddenly or are in foreign surroundings. it was a way to have you find yourself calmly.’’

‘’well in any case..’’ you said slowly, still trying to wake up from whatever dream.. nightmare- you still weren’t sure- this was. ‘’you both aren’t the Loki I know.. the one on my branch is quite different.. he and I didn’t become a thing until he was a bit older than.. I suppose how you are right now..’’ you explain slowly as you look towards the more.. casual dressed Loki. You felt your cheeks reddening at the subject, but you both didn’t become a thing until he was a part of the TVA. Before he dropped you to your branch..

They both looked at each other and tensed, but you knew they could tell you weren’t lying, and their expressions turned to disappointment.

‘’well, I suppose we should both begin our search then for the other version of yourself, you are clearly apart of a different branch.’’ Loki said quietly and slowly vanished his dagger, his body relaxing as the other did the same.

‘’or.. perhaps we could have a little fun with this..’’ Loki(OG) said in a quieter tone as his eyes dragged back to you, making your hands clench as you tried to unnoticeably pull your wrists against your restraints.

The other Loki was silent, having an unreadable expression like all the others as he looked to you as well. Somehow the room seemed to feel smaller, darker, or perhaps it felt that was when Loki(OG) found himself at your side, his thigh barely ghosting against yours as your eyes rose to meet his hungry gaze.

‘’take me home..’’ you said quietly, fear and nervousness of the unknown dripping off your voice as your thighs pressed together.

‘’we will my darling, we will..’’ he seemed to coo, dragging light finger tips against your cleavage, his eyes drinking any skin you had exposed before his slender digits ghosted upward, trailing a finger to trace your collarbone. ‘’we promise, we love you.. in all our branches, and you love us. You cant tell me you haven’t thought of the possibilities..’’ he dared as his hand trailed up your neck and grasped your jaw now so you were looking at him. ‘’magic has its ways, duplicates though can be it’s own.. erotic adventure..’’

Although you couldn’t move your head, you strained your eyes to look down as you felt a pair of hands gently rest at your bare knees, caressing the skin with long, cold digits and you knew it was the other Loki. He sank down to his knees before you, having no trouble prying your legs apart as your fingers gripped the arms of the chair.

‘’please…’’ you begged, barely a whisper as your heart rate picked up. You loved Loki, the one you were with back home.. you knew these two were also Loki.. but not? It all felt so strange, so much to wrap your head around and you felt Loki(OG) tilt your head up to look up at him again.

‘’calm that beautiful mind of yours love. We will take great care of you and will not force you into anything you wouldn’t enjoy’’ he whispered, sinking down on one kneel to your side and you felt the tip of his nose ghost against your neck as he inhaled. ‘’mm practically perfect in any universe..’’ he whispered..

‘’she feels perfectly the same as she did when I had her.. gods I’ve missed you..’’ Loki’s lips murmured as he began kissing the inside of your thigh by your knee and he slowly dragged his lips towards your center with open mouth kisses.

The other (OG)Loki’s hand left your jaw as you moved to look away from him, only to feel his fingers slowly glide up into your hair and pulled just enough to tilt your head back, making you whimper just slightly. Your breaths were short, eyes wide, and mind doing it’s best to think rather than to feel. Although, they were making it extremely difficult as you felt (OG)Loki’s tongue drag itself against your neck, sucking at your skin while his other hand ghosted over your breast.

You shamefully felt yourself arch every so slightly, catching yourself as you retreated but he was already smirking against your skin. ‘’do not deny the pleasures of this world darling, we do not know how long we have in its universe after all’’ he whispered and gently began massaging your breast.

Yoi felt yourself shiver, trying to strain your back from arching until the soreness made you give up and pushed more against his wicked hand. You felt the other Loki between your legs, having switched to your other thigh as he caressed it with his mouth. He had switched just before he had got to your center and you hated yourself for feeling disappointed.

‘’do not fret darling, I promise we will get there’’ he smirked up at you as his hands caressed your knees as his lips continued.

‘’s-stay out of my head..’’ you whimper, feeling (OG)Loki’s hand now raise and move itself under your nightgown to grope you properly, playing with our nipples as he alternated between your globes.

‘’as you wish darling, your body tells us just enough..’’ he whispered before spreading your legs wider and raised your nightgown ever so slightly to reveal black, lace panties.

‘’my my it was almost as if you were expecting something tonight’’ he smirked and his eyes flashed dangerously up at yours. ‘’I do hope that particular Dr didn’t see anything that didn’t belong to him..’’

You felt the other (OG)Loki’s grip in your hair tighten ever so slightly as he pinched your nipple, making a gasp leave your lips as you arch.

‘’even if he has, it would just be another reason to claim you. over.. and over.. and over again..’’ he whispered and began nibbling on your ear lobe, causing goosebumps to spring up upon your skin as he squeezed at your breast.

Another gasp left your mouth as you felt the flat of Loki’s tongue play against your center against the panties while his fingers slid up against your hips and gripped your underwear.

‘’as beautiful as they are, they have no use anymore’’ he smirked and pulled them down and they were history behind him as he spread you wide again.

Your heart pounded as you felt his breath against your center, teasing you at first as your legs shook. The other Loki(OG) pulled your shirt down, using the stretchy fabric to his advantage so he could place his mouth on your breast now. A moan left your mouth before you could think to silence yourself and you already knew they both were smirking as your cheeks reddened.

‘’that’s more like it darling...’’ Loki murmured before he gave you a long lick against your cunt.

A gasp left your lips as you head fell back, your arms straining against the binds as your pleasure already began to build. The tip of his tongue began teasing your clit, flicking and lapping against it while he took turns sucking as well.

Your body shook and your breaths were almost none existent until you forced yourself to breath periodically while he massaged your clit. Both had wicked tongues, giving you an overwhelming state of pleasure, there was too much to keep track of what was going on. Your eyes squeezed shut, allowing yourself to just feel and your lips parted with no words.

Loki(OG) flicked his tongue against your nipple, nibbling and sucking while making sure to give the other equal attention.

Your eyes fluttered open as you moaned, feeling his tongue plunge inside you, feeling how his moan vibrated your inside which only built more to your pleasure. Your arms strained, wanting so desperately to grasp his hair, to touch.. someone.. and feeling him smirk against your cunt, you didn’t even care if he read your mind or not.

Your eyes opened once more to find that Loki(OC) was now nose to nose with you, his lips ghosting yours as a hand remained playing with your chest while the other now returned to your jaw, his thumb brushing against your lip before opening your mouth slightly.

‘’you’re going to cum for us darling, right now’’ he murmured, pressing his lips to yours as he caressed your tongue with his, almost feeling like the same movement as the wicked tongue attacking your center.

You moaned in his mouth, leaning forward as much as possible as he grasped your hair and got tongue fucked by both your mouth and your cunt. It was to much and your center squeezed and fluttered just as he added his fingers to play with your cunt. Moaning shamelessly into (OG)Loki’s mouth as Loki drove his tongue into you, helping you ride it out as you spasmed and shook before having calmed down once their movements slowed down.

Panting, Loki(OG) smirked as he leaned up and brushed his lips to your forehead, the other wiping his face and licking his fingers, making your cheeks redden.

‘’we won’t stop until we find you love, I’m sure you’ll have a lot of new ideas once you return. Magic nearly makes anything possible. Perhaps your Loki could conjure up a few more’’ Loki(OG) smirked, winking as he stroked your cheek while you looked dick drunk even though they’ve used everything except cock. Just the idea made your eyes wonder and Loki gave a dangerous look while he leaned down to be nose to nose with you.

‘’I think we still have some time left before this Dr of yours finds you..’’

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Listen, I know we all have stuff to do and summer is coming up and aaaaaaaargh, but in the name of Optimus Prime I'm begging y'all to shed the habit of using descriptors like 'the shorter one' or 'the blond one' instead of using proper names.

This is a very common trope in fanfiction, and I get it, it gets so boring to write the character names over and over again. I also know it will be so hard to unlearn, don't ask me about the pain and suffering I have endured. But you have to break yourself out of this habit, because all it's doing is making your stories harder to follow and losing your readers.

Let's say you're writing an Avengers fanfic, and you've got Captain America, Iron Man, and Thor in the room together. The following scene might go a little something like this:

"We must stop Unicron," the blond one said, flexing his muscles.

"Indeed," the dark-haired one replied. "If only he weren't so handsome for a metal monster."

"Thou is speaking nonsense," the bearded man said, subtly flexing his biceps harder. "Also, who is speaking right now?"

(Yes, I did write Unicron instead of Ultron like I'm pretending not to be a nerd, shut up.)

The actual dialogue tag indicators above are nonsense, pure gibberish, and those exaggerated for effect, wouldn't it just be easier to follow if you just used names? Also, sometimes Tony's goatee is more beard-like so it's even less helpful in figuring out who's talking. Depends on what era of comics you're reading.

ANYWAY, Who is doing what is one of the most important things you need to convey. In a busy dialogue scene, in a high action scene, especially in a romance scene between two people of the same gender, clarity is key. It feels boring to write, I know. It will be a better scene in the end.

So when should you use character descriptors in your writing?

When you need to reiterate an important character feature that is either relevant to how the main character views them or how they view themselves. Example: Her brother, the soldier, the Hobbit, etc.

When you need to reiterate an important character feature to the plot. Example: The god of thunder, the stowaway, the white witch, etc.

When you have a minor character who is better defined by their job or role than there name. Example: The second mate, the boatswain, the cook, etc.

When appropriate to the scene. This one is harder to define, but if you have a quiet moment where the main character reflects on the scoundrel he has a crush on, long paragraphs of just using the name Alex might be better peppered descriptors of his personality or notable features, or - depending on your character - 'that cocky asshole.'

When shouldn't you use character descriptors? When they are boring, unhelpful, and not distinctive. Referring constantly to someone as "the taller man" or "the blonde" will come back to haunt your ass years down the road, believe me. Break free from this prison before you snap awake at 3am, haunted by the one stupid scene you can never unwrite.

[sirfrogsworth]

Photo Restoration Project - Part 1

A long time ago, Katrina sent me some old photos of her family I could restore. Her parents have been helping me from afar for years and I really wanted to do something nice for them. Unfortunately my dad got much worse and I pretty much forgot about this project for quite some time.

But then I decided to visit Katrina in Orlando and we discussed having dinner with her parents and I remembered these photos. So I thought I would fix them up so I could present them as a gift in person.

The first and most important photo was from her parents wedding.

Old photo prints can fade over time due to UV light exposure. From what I understand, different colors fade at different rates and red/orange tones tend to be the least susceptible to this fading. Thankfully all of the color information is still there, it's just that the darks are not as dark and the lights are not as light. The dynamic range got squeezed like an accordion. However, if you do a levels adjustment on the red, blue, and green channels individually, you can unsqueeze the accordion and balance everything back to the way it was.

But you can't always save everything and there may be other damage that needs fixing. If something becomes pure white, there is no way to restore that detail. Thankfully I was able to use the new generative fill feature to bring back detail in the dress, the flowers, and the tuxedo shirt.

And because I hate front facing flash and how it makes colors look ugly and sterile, I may have also added a marble floor and pillars.

Next up was a photo of Anastasia, Katrina's mom, protesting Henry Kissinger on behalf of her home country of Greece. This suffered from the same color fading issues.

What made this one a little more tricky was an uneven fading. The left side had to be adjusted independently and the top was even more faded. I had to isolate the trees to bring back their color. And the protest signs were difficult to read, so I enhanced those as well.

Next we have this lovely photo of Anastasia tending to some house plants.

This photo was actually in decent shape. It lost a little contrast, had a little bit of fading, and her top retained almost no detail I could recover. Recovering accurate skin tones is probably one of the most important skills I learned when restoring these photos. I wanted to keep that filmic look of the era while avoiding making people look jaundiced or pale. Lightroom's new masking feature that let's you isolate every aspect of the people it detects in a photo. This made fixing skin tones much easier. I could isolate just her face or her lips or her hair or her eyes and make precise individual adjustments. This process could have taken a great deal longer without this feature. But, I brought back proper contrast and color, added a little bit of detail to her top with gen fill, and hopefully got fairly accurate skin tones as well.

Next up, forward facing flash strikes again in a photo of Mike and Anastasia during Christmas.

Film did not do well in low light. If it was indoors and nighttime, you pretty much had no choice but to use flash. But a flash is a very small, bright light source and this causes a very unflattering result on humans. Today we have much more powerful flashes with rotating heads. We can bounce the light into the ceiling or off a wall and increase the size of the light source to get a more flattering result.

In this photo I wasn't able to do much, so I just balanced the skin tones and brought out some hidden detail and called it a day. It's still a lovely memory and thankfully film has such character that it negates a lot of the unflattering aspects of direct flash.

Next up is some cuteness...

A big priority when editing photos is to make sure the subjects are the star of the photo. And in this one their faces were a bit obscured in shadow. There was also a lot of haze in the background hiding the beautiful vista. Not to mention when I cleared that haze, there was this super faint hint of something in the sky. I can't tell if it was a rainbow, but I decided to believe it was a rainbow. The only thing that I am still struggling with, and this seems to be common with a lot of old photos, is green. Getting a good, saturated, natural green to look right has been very difficult. Everything I try ends up looking toxic or fake. The only thing that ends up looking right with the rest of the photo is more of a yellow-y brown. It's something I'll have to work on as I learn, but as long as the overall photo looks balanced and natural, I'm okay with not perfectly nailing the greens.

Up next we have a lovely scene on a Greek dock...

As far as editing goes, this was pretty basic. I just undid the fading, adjusted the skin tones, replaced the blown-out sky, and made the colors pop. But I think this is actually one of my favorite before and after shots. I just love how such a simple fix brought this scene to life.

A new car is a big deal and Anastasia looks so proud here...

This image has another common issue in addition to the typical fading of colors. It has a yellowish orange color cast. This could have been an issue with the film used or the development process or a chemical reaction on the print. A color cast is a lot like looking through colored glasses. It's like a translucent color material was put on top of the image. This can be a little trickier to deal with, but if you know your color theory, you might already know the solution. Blue is the opposite of yellow/orange on the color wheel, so if you introduce blue to the image it should balance out. Also, add a sky if it was missing.

Next up we have a landscaping project...

This one wasn't too tricky, but there was one interesting issue I had to address. All light has a color temperature. Daylight has a temperature of around 5500K. But the inside of the garage was being lit by reflected light and so that light took on the color temperature of the things it was bouncing off of. So I had to mask out the people and the car and address the color temperature inside the garage to make everything look balanced. Also, the green fought me hard on this one. And with the theme of this picture being plants, I felt I really needed to find a tone that worked. I think I finally got there, but I spent way too much time in the color picker doing trial and error of green tones. Also, new sky.

With this next one I actually did a pretty thorough explanation of how I edited it. But this was probably my favorite puzzle to solve from this collection of photos.

I'll do the abridged explanation...

The physical photograph was printed on a paper with a very heavy texture. And when it was scanned, the light from the scanner bounced off that texture and created a pattern of unwanted highlights.

I was worried this was impossible to fix and I almost gave up on this photo. But after one final Google search I discovered something called "Fast Fourier Transform." It's a mathematical formula that can be used to detect patterns. And the image editing software Affinity Photo, just so happens to have a filter called FFT denoise that helps you remove unwanted patterns from scanned photos.

And thanks to that filter, I was able to remove a substantial amount of that pattern...

Then I did my standard clean up techniques...

Oh, and I decided to try learning how to colorize.

Photoshop has a new set of experimental filters and a colorization tool is one of them. It is not great yet, but it is a great starting place. Instead of having to hand paint every single thing in the photo, Photoshop gave me a base to work with and I could take it from there with traditional techniques.

That's all I have the energy for today, but there are a bunch of cool restorations to talk about. Hopefully you all find this interesting. It was such a great gift to give to Katrina's parents. And spending that time with them and making them happy felt like I was with my own parents again. So we all got a gift in that wonderful evening.

Part 2 coming as soon as I have the energy!

[anti-romantico]

[getaway car] enhypen jake

warnings: riding, oral (m&f), facefuck, deepthroat, cum swallowing, overstimulation, protected sex (as y'all should!)

words: 1342 (wth happened to the color yellow?)

A/N: first thing first, yes, this is inspired by the taylor swift song "getaway car", my friend went to the eras tour in Edinburgh and got it as a surprise song, she hasn't stopped talking about it since then, so naturally I listened to the song and immediately got obsessed with it, and I'm saying it as someone who only likes a few TS songs. This same friend helped me with the redaction of this fic since we all know how much I like to use the same five adjectives in all my fics lmao

anyways, hope y'all enjoy this as much as I did, it might be one of my favorite fics I've ever written.

remember, don't like it don't read it, that's why the warnings are before the cut

You knew this was wrong. You ended a 3 year relationship just last month. But this guy’s lips on your neck felt like heaven. The sudden bites and sucks he was giving sent shivers all over your body. You weren’t a fan of marks, but you let him have his way. It was like you needed him to.

— Do you want to take this somewhere private? — How did he manage to whisper if the music was really loud?

You smirked. Yes. You wanted him.

— Let me tell my friend I’m leaving. Be right back. — You gave him a kiss on his cheek and rushed to your friend’s table. She was also busy. — Ney! I’m sorry! — You had to push his date to make them stop. 

— Already got bored of him? — She asked, drinking her glass, realizing it was only melted ice. Your relationship with Heeseung wasn’t of her liking, so the moment your impulsive thought won and told her you wanted to club, she dragged you to the mall and bought you the navy blue dress you were wearing. 

— Quite the opposite. I’m leaving! — Ney was surprised, she thought it was going to be just a little make out. 

— Do you have your location on?

You grabbed your phone from the table and showed her. — Always! I’ll call you, have fun!

Once you two were out, you took a deep breath. You didn’t drink much, but it was enough to feel dizzy.

— Are you ok? — He asked, rubbing his hand on your back.

— Just the change of air. — You smiled. He murmured something and took off his jacket, placing it over your shoulder. 

He opened the door of his truck for you and even helped you with the seatbelt. Taking advantage of the closeness to grab you by your face and kiss you. — Sorry, I had to do it. Couldn’t resist anymore.

— Don’t apologize. — This time you kissed him, playing with his tongue.

Against his own head, he pulled away and ran to the driver seat.

— Is it ok if we go to a hotel? Pretty sure my roommate has someone over. — He took his phone out of his jeans and looked at you. You shook your head and started at him driving and finding a hotel.

You just heard him say “Perfect” before looking at you. 

— I’m Jake, by the way. — You chuckled and told him your name, not being able to resist your urges and grabbed his free hand and played with his fingers. — It’s the first time a girl does that.

—You have pretty hands, even prettier than mine. — You compared the back of his hand with yours before continuing to rub his skin. 

Jake would pull his hand away from time to time, but immediately would grab your hand after.

A little darkness covered the car. You made it to the hotel. After being helped by Jake to get out, you walked hand in hand to the reception as the ballet parking left with Jake’s car.

— Good evening. Room for Jake Sim. — You bit your lower lip at his voice tone. The receptionist smiled and gave him two cards. 

The room was nice. More than that. How did he book a room like this with so little anticipation?

— You like it? — Jake was behind you, just like you two were at the club. — I have to order condoms, though, wasn’t planning to have sex tonight.

You laughed and nodded. — I’ll use the bathroom while you do that.

You took a deep breath once you locked the door behind you. Were you really going to do this? Yes, definitely. You still could feel his hands burning on your skin. 

When you got out of the bathroom, he was sitting on the couch, typing on his phone. He turned his face toward you when you closed the door.

— Hey, I know why are we here, but are you hungry? I can call room service. — Jake asked, following you with his eyes. As soon as you were in front of him, you straddled him.

Jake left his phone to the side and placed his hands on your waist. After looking at each other’s eyes, you finally lowered your face and kissed him, grabbing his hands and lowering them to your butt. 

He had to take a very deep breath when he felt the edge of your dress in the palm of his hands. Would it be too fast if he lifted it a little so he could feel you? 

But it was like you read his mind. As the kiss deepened, you started to move your hips over his, causing your dress to lift up, and with Jake’s help, you were grinding on his boner. 

— Let's take this to the bed, love, we'll be more comfortable. — Jake's strength made you clench. He carried you with one arm like it was nothing and took you to the bedroom. 

The bed was so soft, you loved the idea of about to be fucked in a bed as soft as this one.

Jake held your legs spread and pulled your thong down, letting it fall to the ground.

You held yourself up with your elbows as you saw him get on his knees and kiss your inner thighs. He was teasing you, going from one leg to the other, ignoring your wet pussy. 

You weren't going to protest though, you liked it. But the loud moan you let out when he gave a hard suck on your clit wouldn't have been prevented. Not even if you tried. 

His tongue was skilled, feeling jealous of all the girls that have experienced it before you.

There were times you tried to keep eye contact with him, but due to the pleasure he was giving you, it was impossible to not close your eyes and throw your head back. 

Jake started to lick your pussy with a fervor that you had never experienced before. His tongue moved in circles around your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You moaned softly, fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer to your cunt.

As he continued to lick and suck on your clit, you felt your orgasm building. Your breath came in short gasps, and you arched your back, pressing yourself harder against his mouth. Suddenly, the pleasure became too much to bear, and you cried out as your orgasm washed over you.

He continued to lick you gently, drawing out your orgasm until you were left panting and breathless. 

You bit your lip, feeling a surge of desire course through you. — Can I suck your cock?

Jake's eyes widened with surprise, but he didn't hesitate. He nodded, his breath coming in short gasps. Jake stood up and opened his jeans, letting you pull them down with his boxers.

You reached the base of Jake's cock, your fingers gently caressing the sensitive skin. You felt his cock twitching in anticipation, and you knew that he was just as eager as you were. 

You wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock, grip was firm but gentle.

You looked up at Jake, eyes meeting him. He was watching you with a look of pure desire, his eyes dark with need. 

Jake groaned, his body tensing as you began to stroke his cock. 

You lowered your head, your lips parting as you took the head of Jake's cock into your mouth. 

You tasted his salty precum, and you moaned softly as you swirl your tongue around the sensitive head.

Jake groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided your head down further. You took him deeper into your mouth, your lips sliding down his shaft as you began to suck him off. You could feel his cock swelling in your mouth, growing harder and thicker.

Jake's grip on your hair tightened as he thrust his hips upward, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. 

You moaned around his shaft, your fingers digging into his thighs as you tried to steady yourself. You could feel his cock twitching, growing even harder.

You could hear Jake's breath coming in short gasps, his body tensing with every stroke of your tongue. You knew that he was close to his release, and you wanted to make him feel as good as he had made you feel. 

Jake's body began to shudder, his cock throbbing in your mouth as he neared his release.

You felt his precum dripping down your throat, and you swallowed eagerly, wanting to taste every drop of him. His fingers tightened in your hair, pulling you closer as he thrust his hips upward, his cock hitting the back of your throat.

You gagged slightly, but Jake didn't let up, his desire taking over as he fucked your mouth with recklessly. You could feel your own arousal building again, pussy throbbing with need.

— I'm gonna cum in your mouth again, love, but this time don't swallow it. Keep it in your mouth. — Jake said as he kept thrusting his cock into your mouth. You could feel his cock swelling even more as he spoke.

You nodded, your eyes locked on his, and you felt a thrill of excitement.

You felt his cock throbbing, the veins bulging as he chased his second release.

Suddenly, Jake's body tensed, his fingers tightening in your hair as he thrust his hips upward one last time. You felt his hot cum shooting into your mouth, filling it.

And you did as he told you; you kept his cum in your mouth, letting his cock go carefully to not drop anything.

Jake lifted your face with his thumb. — Open. — You opened your mouth and showed him the white liquid in your mouth. — You look so hot like this, love, but I want to see you swallow it, you didn't let me the first time. 

Not even a second after you swallowed his cum, Jake lowered himself and kissed you, tasting himself in your tongue.

You felt dizzy after he pulled himself away, and you got confused when you heard him grab the condoms from the drawer.

— You took your sweet time in the bathroom. — He explained, taking off his jacket and shirt.

When he was kicking his jeans off, he stopped you from removing your dress. 

— I really want to see your body, but you look too hot in that dress to not take advantage of that. — You loved honesty, and even boosted your ego. 

Jake laid down in the bed and handed you the condoms.

You took out one of the condoms and rolled it down Jake's cock, feeling his thickness through the thin latex. You stroked him a few times, your hand gliding up and down his shaft as you felt him grow even harder. 

You positioned yourself over him, your legs straddling his hips as you lowered your body onto his.

You felt him enter you, his cock stretching you open as he filled you up. You gasped, your body shuddering with pleasure as you took him in.

You began to move, your hips rocking back and forth.

Jake's hands gripped your hips tightly as you rode him, his fingers digging into your skin as he guided your movements. You felt his cock throbbing inside you, his shaft rubbing against your sensitive walls as you moved up and down.

You leaned forward, your hands braced on his chest as you kissed him deeply. Your tongues danced together, breaths mingling as you lost yourselves in the moment. Jake's cock was twitching inside you, his desire building as you continued.

You broke the kiss, your breath coming in short gasps as you looked down at him. 

Jake's hands moved to your breasts, his fingers teasing your nipples over your dress.

Your orgasm started to build up, your body tensing as you threw your head back, your hair cascading down as you let out a low moan.

— I'm gonna cum. — You gasped, your voice barely audible as you felt my orgasm wash over you. Your body shook and pussy clenched around Jake's cock as you came. 

As you rode your orgasm, Jake's hands tightened around your breasts, he watched you come undone.

His cock still throbbing inside you, your pussy clenching around him as you milked every last drop of pleasure from your release. 

You slowly opened your eyes, your gaze locking onto Jake's. His eyes were burning with desire, his pupils dilated as he gazed up at you. There was tension in his body, his muscles coiled and ready to spring into action. 

Without warning, Jake's hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging as he pushed you down onto the bed. 

You gasped, your body shivering with pleasure as he positioned himself over you. You could feel his cock pressing against your entrance, his thickness filling you up as he thrust into you.

You cried out, your body arching off the bed as Jake rammed into you. He didn't give you a chance to recover from your orgasm, his desire taking over as he fucked you hard and fast. Even making the bed squeak under you two.

Jake's cock pulsed inside you, his thrusts growing more frantic as he chased his own release. 

His sweaty chest pressing against yours, his hot breath whispering in your ear as he whispered dirty nothings. Your body responded eagerly, your pussy clenching around his cock as you felt another orgasm building.

You wrapped my legs around his waist, your heels digging into his back as you pulled him deeper into you. Jake groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as he felt you tighten around him.

As Jake's body tensed, his cock throbbing inside you.

His face was buried in the crook of your neck. You held him close, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair as you felt his release building.

Suddenly, Jake's body tensed, his cock pulsing inside you as he came. You could feel his cum filling the condom, his shaft throbbing as he emptied himself into the condom.  

As Jake's hips slowed, his thrusts becoming gentle as he rode out his orgasm, you felt his body relaxing, his weight pressing down on you.

His face was still buried in the crook of your neck, his hot breath tingling against your skin as he panted, trying to catch his breath. 

Slowly, Jake pulled out, causing the both of you to sigh. He laid down beside you for a few seconds before he removed the condoms and went to the bathroom.

You practically kicked out the dress of your body as you felt hot and sticky.

Jake got out of the bathroom and sat down on the side of the bed you were in. — Do you want to take a bath? I'll order something to eat so the bathroom is all yours.

And even though in the back of your head you knew it wasn't a good idea, you nodded.

Jake smiled softly and kissed you. But not a kiss that tells you he wanted to keep fucking. It was just a sweet kiss. 

After getting out of the bathroom, you were wearing one of the bathrobes you found hanged. The bed had two silver plates with pizza and french fries, but your clothes were nowhere to be seen.

— Jake? — You tried to not panic as you walked out of the room and found Jake receiving two paper bags from a hotel staff.

— Your clothes will be here in the morning, sir. — The guy said to Jake. — Is there anything else I can do? 

— Not for the moment. Thanks. — The guy left after receiving a tip from Jake.

— I sent your dress to the dry cleaners, but I got you clean clothes in case you don't want to leave wearing a dress. — Jake handed you one of the paper bags, which you received hesitantly.

— Isn't it too much? — You asked him, afraid to offend him and his kindness.

— I just thought you preferred… your dress was wrinkled. Fuck… Am I being invasive? 

— No! Not at all. It's just that you paid for the hotel, the food and now clothes.  This isn't something I would've expected for… this. — It seemed like none of you pictured the same. 

— What is this? For you, I mean. — Jake walked towards you, leaving his paper bag on the couch in the way. God, he still had some sort of scent that drove you crazy. 

But you couldn't answer, looking at the whole picture, it was obvious he didn't have the same idea as you after meeting at a club.

— How about we eat something? I'm starting to feel dizzy. — You grabbed his hand and pulled him to the room.

The food was already cold, but both of you were too lazy to go to the kitchen and warm the food.

After eating, you were planning on leaving, no matter if it was late, but you were too tired after everything.

And if it wasn't because of your bladder you would've continued sleeping, but you had to run to the bathroom, finding your phone on the floor. 

You checked the time. 8:32 in the morning. 

When you walked in the room, Jake was sleeping so tight it made you feel like shit for grabbing the paper bag he gave you last night. You locked yourself in the bathroom and dressed up quickly.

After getting out of the bathroom again, you grabbed your heels and rushed out of the room, until you found Jake's phone on the couch right beside his paper bag. 

You weren't going to leave him your number, but you didn't want to lose contact, but you weren't ready for whatever he was low-key offering you. 

And just like any other hotel, there was a small notebook and a pen on the table. It was your only way to say goodbye without making it difficult… for you.

“You gave me a night I'll never forget, but sadly it happened when I'm not in the correct state of mind. Don't think I'm not thankful for everything you've done for me, but think about the place where you first met me.

I hope we can meet again, I promise I'll make up for it”. 

You rushed out of the hotel room, walking confidently to the elevator. You even smiled at the receptionist when you were making your way out of the hotel and hopped in one of the taxis.

When Jake woke up he didn't want to think anything bad when you weren't on his side. Or when he saw the pajama you wore and the paper bag in the bathroom. But then he found the note. 

He swore he could hear your voice redacting it. It stinged as he read it over and over and over and over again.

[namelessdumbass]

Ultimate Nameless Ghouls guide

Nobody asked for it, but why the hell not?! Warning: looooong text, silly descriptions, shit ton of links and silly collages (sorry, tumblr only allows 30 pictures per post)

Happy reading!

4 Papas, 5 eras, different cool looks. There were a lot of changes, loooooots of Ghouls, but it's not as compicated as it may seem. There are many ways to tell them apart: -by the way they are placed on stage -their alchemic symbols (check out my Meliora guide where i shed more light on this topic) -their height and body types -body language -their instruments -jewellery -date of the photo/video (mhm) Let's start from the very beginning!

Opus Eponymous era (October 23, 2010 - december 15, 2012)

(from left to right: Omega, Earth #1, Lake/Water #2, Alpha/Fire #1 in front and Air #1) There were only 5 Ghouls: Fire/Alpha, Quintessence/Omega, Chain/Water (later Lake), Earth #1 and Air #1. Since 2011, Ghouls were placed in certain areas on stage: Quintessence and Earth on Papa's right, Water in the middle, Air and Fire - on Papa's left.

Alpha aka Fire Ghoul #1

Lead guitar. Had fire sticker on his white-n-black Gibson RD. Skilled motherfucker. Taller than Papas, looked bigger in first 2 eras. Was a bit reserved in era 1, but became quite active and naughty in era 2. Has blue eyes, started to wear a ring in era 2 and got tattoos in era 3. If you see a ghoul who often shows a peace sign - that's Alpha :) Hangs out with Omega, River, Delta, Pebble and Mist on stage. Enjoys attention, quite popular among fans. Can speak Italian, has strong accent. Joined in october 2010, left in november 2016.

Omega aka Ether/Quintessence Ghoul #1

Rhythm guitar, black Gibson RD with Omega sticker. Tall, stompy, was quite confident from the very beginning, graceful hand movements (trust me, you won't confuse him with any other ghoul). Has cutest laugh. The Perfect Ghoul™. Has beautiful eyes, chunky silver rings, is the reason the Ghouls got their alchemic symbols. Papa III's favorite Ghoul, that's why he was always praised and his butt was always touched/smacked during Year Zero solo by Terzo :) Did interviews in era 2 (sometimes together with Alpha or Special Ghoul) and 3. Joined in october 2010, left in july 2016 :(

Chain aka Water Ghoul#1

Bass. Mysterious and metal AF, wore a chain as a belt and painted black bones on his hands, had Grucifix on metal necklace (which was later worn by Omega after Chain left). Was quite active and actually the shortest ghoul of era 1. Joined in october 2010, left in early 2011.

Earth Ghoul #1

Drums. Had no other specific name. Tall (same height as Omega), slim, has blue eyes. Despite being in Ghost for like 4 years, is soooo underrated. There's not much we know about him. The only earth ghoul of Ghost who did an interview (together with Alpha). Was simply amazing! Joined in october 2010, left in 2014.

Air Ghoul #1

Also had no specific name. Synthesizer, keyboard and keytar. The tallest ghoul (a bit taller than Omega), dark eyes. Modest, very calm, didn't move much. Loved showing horns and stared at fans sometimes. Had badass Mummy Dust solo . Joined in 2011, left in november 2016 Lake aka Water Ghoul #2

Bass. Joined in 2011 after Chain left. Middle height, dark eyes. Quite calm. Played two different guitars in era 1. Had cool black lenses in era 2, wore a ring sometimes. Also quite underrated. Fun fact: Remember Year Zero mv when Secondo flashes us? Well, it was this Water in Papa's chasuble, not Tobias :) Joined in 2011, left in 2014.

Infestissumam era (december 15th 2012 - June 3, 2015)

(from left to right: Earth #1, Omega, River, Air #1, Alpha) How are Ghouls placed on stage? Same way as in Opus era. Same Ghouls, different outfits and masks. Their alchemic symbols became more visible and ghouls opened up more on stage. There was only one change of the lineup: Lake left in 2014 and was replaced by River. River aka Water #3

Bass. Middle height, dark blue eyes. Was quite chaotic and weird onstage. Held his bass in a suggestive way, humped it sometimes. Interacted with Alpha a lot, was a bad influence. Definitely had fun on stage, enjoyed attention. See a ghoul with wide-legs-stance? Yeah, that's him! The tallest of the Water Ghouls. Joined in 2014, left in 2015 (before Meliora era began).

Meliora era (june 3, 2015 - september 30, 2017)

(from left to right: Omega, Pebble/Earth #2 behind him, Delta/Water #4, Air #1, Alpha) Placed on stage? Same way as in previous two eras. This is when a lot of changes happened. In 2015, Fire, Quintessence and Air Ghouls were the same, but Earth#1 and River left and Delta and Pebble were introduced.

Delta aka Water#4

Bass. A bit shorter than Papa III, cute, has blue eyes. No visible tattoos or rings. Skilled, filled in for Apha and Omega (and also played his guitar!) couple times for a few rituals and acoustic shows. Loved interacting with Alpha and Pebble on stage. Became Quintessence Ghoul in july 2016 when Omega left, played rhythm guitar. Joined in June 2015, left in november 2016.

Pebble aka Earth#2

Drums. Despite being the shortest and smolest in the band, played the shit out of drums. Was the most active Earth ghoul of Ghost. A show off. Loved interacting with fans. Played a brief solo before Stand by Him. Had a ring, his mask looked a little bit too big for him. Slim, light green eyes. Loved interacting with Alpha and Water. Joined in June 2015, left in november 2016.

In july 2016 Omega left Ghost, Delta took his place and Mist, the first Ghoulette of Ghost, played bass. Mist aka Water #5

Bass. Tiny, has blue eyes, a tattoo and ring on her finger. Cute as hell. Was quite calm and modest. Loved by fans. Her mask looked too big for her. Same could be said about the bass. Joined in september 2016, left a the end of Popestar tour in november 2016.

In 2017 all of the former ghouls and Mist left and the new pack of Ghouls was introduced. All of them (except for Mountain) were +- same heigh as Terzo, so identifying them isn't hard.

Ifrit aka Fire Ghoul #2

Lead guitar. Hyperactive, full of energy, jumps, spins and moves a lot on stage. Papa III's hype man. Loved interacting with fans, gestures a lot. The ghoul that can't stand still. Has blue eyes, no visible tattoos or rings. Ray of sunshine (no really, he's very sweet). Quite popular among fans. Loved interacting with Zephyr, Aether and Dewdrop. Joined in march 2017, left in september 2017

Aether aka Quintessence #3 aka Banana ghoul

Rhythm guitar. A bit taller than Ifrit and Papa III. Loves bananas. Has dark eyes, bracelets and a ring. No QE sticker on his guitar. Beefy, friendly. Also spins, dances and jumps a lot on stage. Was present in Terzo, Cardinal and Papa IV eras. Interacted with all of the Ghouls on stage. Was Cardinal's favorite Ghoul. Was bullied by Sodo, but also annoyed him too sometimes. He and Sodo had pre Cirice guitar battles. Did backing vocals in Prequelle and Impera (in 2022) era. Joined in march 2017, left in may 2023.

Dewdrop aka Sodo aka Water #6 aka Fire #3

Bass and lead guitar. Present in Papa III, Cardinal and Papa VI eras. A bit shorter than Papas and the rest of the ghouls. Slim. Very popular among fans. Stompy, was naughty in era 3, but became muuuuuuch worse later. Horny i would say and even more aggressive. Ghoul equivalent of chihuahua. Shows middle finger, throws picks when he's angry or annoyed by Aether. Was a Water ghoul in 2017, became a Fire Ghoul #3 in 2018 after Ifrit left. This is also a year when his fire Ghoul nature started to come out: Licked his guitar, picks, tried to lick Rain, Aether and bullied Cardinal. HORNY during Mummy Dust. Vapes on stage, interacts with fans, loves choking Rain. Once hurt his finger, didn't give a damn and continued playing guitar smearing blood all over it. Can also be a gentleman. Joined in march 2017 and is still in Ghost (as of may 2024).

Zephyr aka chAir Ghoul #2

Keyboard, synthesizer, keytar. Same height as Papa III, blue eyes. Quite active on stage, but can also be calm. Sits on chair a lot, but starts moving when he's feeling it. Interacts with Ifrit and Aether. Keytar solo - [X]. Cutie. Joined in march 2017, left in september 2017.

Ivy aka Earth #3

Drums. Dark eyes, wears bracelets. Same heigh as Ifrit. Even though he had been in the band only few monhs, he did an amazing job. Joined in march 2017, left in june 2017.

Mountain aka Earth #4

Drums. Tall, slim, has grey eyes and a tattoo on his finger. Hates shoes. Quite popular among fans. Pretty calm, especially comparing to Pebble. Nice fella. Was present in Papa III, Cardinal and Papa IV era. Joined in june 2017 and is still in Ghost (as of may 2024)

Prequelle era (april 6, 2018 - march 3, 2020)

The number of ghouls on stage has increased. Instead of 5 there were 7 ghouls. And this is the year when we got not one, but two Ghoulettes! How are they placed on stage? Like this:

(from left to right: Aether/Quintessence #3, Swiss behing him, Mountain/Earth #4, Rain/Water #7 in front, Cirrus/Multi, Cumulus/Multi, Dewdrop/Sodo/Fire #3) New ghouls of this era:

Rain aka Water #7

Bass. A bit taller than Dewdrop and Cardinal/Papa VI. Has dark eyes, beautiful hands, slim. Quite calm comparing to the others. Opened up a bit more in Impera era. The only adult on stage, beside Ghoulettes and Mountain. Has to step in when Sodo becomes a pain in the ass, also allows him to choke him during Year Zero. Joined in january 2018 and is still in Ghost (as of may 2024)

Swiss aka Multi Ghoul

Baritone and acoustic guitar, tambourine, backing vocals. Tall, slim, has dark eyes and biiiiiiiiiiiiig smile. Dances on his platform, tries to seduce other ghouls, acts possessed. Is in your walls. A manace to society. Vapes on stage. Loves interacting with fans and other ghouls. Known for his powerful shimmies. The horniest Ghoul of Ghost. Annoying the shit out of Sodo aka jerking him off was his main hobby in 2023. Also went to Aurora's (see below) and Cumulus' platforms. The most chaotic ghoul. Popular among Ghesties. Joined in january 2018 and is still in Ghost (as of may 2024).

Cumulus aka Multi Ghoulette

Backing vocals, synthesizer, tamboutine. Short, curvy, has amazing voice. No visible tattoos. Loves interacting with fans and other Ghouls/Ghoulettes. Dances, slays. Joined in january 2018 and is still in Ghost (as of may 2024)

Cirrus aka Multi Ghoulette

Keyboard, synthesizer, tambourine, keytar, backing vocals. Tall, slim. No tattoos. Active on stage. Keytar solo - [X]. Loves sticking out her tongue. Comes to the center of the stage in Impera era. Literal queen. Joined in january 2018 and is still in Ghost (as of may 2014)

Impera era (january 25 th, 2022 - october 7th, 2023)

(Front row from left to right: Aether/Quintessence #3, Rain/Water #7, Sodo/Dewdrop/Fire #3. Behind them from left to right: Swiss, Cirrus, Mountain/Earth #4, Cumulus, Sunshine/Multi)

There were a few changes in this era: new Ghouls and slight changes in the stage setting. In 2022 one more Ghoulette joined the Prequlle pack.

Sunshine aka Multi Ghoulette

Backing vocals and tambourine. A bit taller than Cumulus, but shorter than Cirrus. No tattoos and rings/bracelets. Cutie. Dances and acts funny on her platform. Stood on Papa's left. Joined in 2022, left in may 2023.

2023: Sunshine and Aether left and were replaced by Aurora and Phantom. The rest of the Ghouls/Ghoulettes remained the same.

Phantom aka Quintessence #4

Rhythm guitar. Tall, slim, dark eyes. Loves interacting with fans and loves bats. A show off and a little bit chaotic. Quite confident despite being a newbie. Joins Rain and Sodo for epic into of Square Hammer and outro of Rats. Loves annoying Papa IV during Year Zero outro. almost No visible tattoos, wears a ring. Interacts with every ghoul/ghoulettes on stage. Joined in may 2023 and is still in Ghost (as of may 2024)

Aurora aka Multi Ghoulette

Backing vocals, tambourine. Full of energy. The shortest Ghoulette. Loves dancing next to Rain during Miasma. Cute. Despite being smol, brought Swiss to his knees ;) Joined in may 2023, is still in Ghost (as of may 2024) Honorable mentions: Special Ghoul aka Phil aka Tobias

Showed up for interviews and to grab some awards. Talked about albums, meanings of songs and Papas. Worships cats, loves Abba. Slim, has green eyes. Wore Alpha's uniform. Was present in Primo, Secondo and Terzo eras. Makes a lot of silly sounds. Hasn't been active since 2017. Cowbell Ghoul

Plays cowbell in "Ritual" and "If you have Ghosts". A freaking legend. Tall, has a posture of a shrimp. Always got shooed by Papa III. Only showed at the end of Popestar tour in 2016. Brought many people joy with his presence.

And that was it....for now. The movie and new era are coming soon. I'm excited about what's going to happen next. If there are going to be any changes of the lineup i'll make sure to update this guide :)

Thanks for reading 🖤

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 5,355

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Reader pronouns: she/her

Era: the Whisperers

Warnings: language, blood and gore, injury, typical TWD violence

Summary: Hilltop must cope with the disastrous events outside the walls and Michonne asks Daryl to try and find the mystery woman who saved him and Dog to find out what she knows about the people she calls 'The Shepherds'.

A/N: This is the second part of a series! Find the first part linked below!

Previous Part

“Daryl!” Tara was running up to him and quickly grabbed him into a hug before he’d hardly passed through the gate. The hug was tight and long and Daryl pulled back abruptly to look at her with a question on his face. “We thought you were dead,” she said grimly. It was then that he noticed how pale she looked and that there were dark circles beneath her eyes.

He gulped. “The others. Did they make it back?”

Tara was about to answer when Carol was there also throwing her arms around him, her expression equally grim. When she pulled back, her pale blue eyes were teary. “Did she tell you?” Carol asked. Tara ducked her head.

Daryl’s stomach clenched into a tight knot. “Tell me what?”

“It’s Jesus,” Tara barely managed. “He was killed out there.”

Daryl’s heart dropped into his gut. “Walkers?”

Tara shook her head. “No. Something else.”

Daryl’s hand strayed over to the side of his vest and he felt the bulk of the skin mask there. He withdrew it and held it up, his nose wrinkled in disgust. “One of these fuckers?” he asked, throwing it down on the ground. Dog nosed and pawed at it before bristling.

Tara and Carol stared down at it for a long moment until Tara nodded. “Yeah. One of those, .”

“Yeah, I had my own damn run-in with ‘em. Almost took me and Dog out.” Daryl caught sight of movement over her shoulder and looked up as Michonne stepped out with several strangers at her side.

“You better come in and tell us what happened,” Tara said.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl was seated on the edge of his chair. Carol had thrust a big glass of water into his hand and set a tray of food down in front of him. It sat untouched, except for the egg that Daryl had fed to dog.

“Next thing I know, a damn rope ladder dropped down out of the tree. And I didn’t have much choice,” Daryl drawled, turning the glass absently in his hands.

“A ladder?” Aaron asked, incredulous. Daryl nodded.

“Mhm. S’gonna sound nuts but—there was this—this woman. She had platforms built up in this huge oak. I didn’t see anythin’ except the lowest one which was empty, but I think she was livin’ up there. She saved me and Dog by droppin’ that damn ladder down and shootin’ all those walkers and skin freaks besides….”

“You’re telling us a woman living in a tree saved you?” Carol said.

“I said I knew it sounded nuts,” Daryl drawled, sitting heavily back in his chair. “Ain’t even the half of it. I watched her climb up a damn tree branch like it was a set of stairs. No hand or foot-holds, nothin’. She sheltered us there overnight during the storm and then in the mornin’, she came down and gave me food and a thermos full of hot tea,” he said, casting a glance around to read all the perplexed faces.

Michonne’s gaze was intense on his face. “Did she try to question you? About where you came from? About the settlements, our group?”

Daryl shook his head. “No. And she wouldn’t even tell me her name… But she guessed that I had people. And—” he hesitated, thinking about whether or not he should convey that he thought you’d been watching the area and certainly had seen him, but likely others from Hilltop as well. But Carol made the decision for him.

“Wait—your knife,” she said suddenly, the realization striking her. “Was this the same area?”

“What about your knife?” Tara asked, confused. Michonne only seemed more rigid, on edge.

Daryl quickly relayed what had happened in the previous days, about losing his knife and then finding it when he returned to look for it, hanging up and presented for the person who had dropped it. “The arrow it was hanging up on was identical to the ones she used to kill the walkers and the people wearin’ those masks. It had to be her. It wasn’t exactly the same place where I lost my knife but the distance ain’t far.”

“So, she’s been watching the whole area,” Michonne said. “You’re sure she didn’t ask you anything about—”

“No,” Daryl interrupted. “In fact, she seemed pissed off ‘bout the whole thing. Told me off for endin’ up at ‘her tree,’ like I’d had a fuckin’ choice. Said she was gonna have to move. She seemed—I think she knew more ‘bout these Whisperers than she said. She called them ‘The Shepherds’ and told me they walk with the dead. She said they can control them somehow. I tried to ask her more about ‘em but she would hardly talk.”

“How do we know she isn’t one of them?” Michonne said.

Daryl shook his head. “Why would she risk revealin’ herself to me and kill all those walkers and Skin freaks if she was one of them? That dun make any damn sense. No,” he shook his head. “No, she wasn’t with them. If she was, I’d be dead.”

Michonne’s face was stony. “I think we need to find her, question her. If she knows more, she needs to tell us.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. “And what if she won’t? We gonna make her?” He looked around at the other stony faces in the room. “My gut says she ain’t the enemy here,” he said emphatically. “She just wanted to be left alone.”

“So do we. But if there’s a threat, it’s better that we know everything we can about it. Jesus is dead. We need to know before someone else dies.” Daryl sighed and his eyes closed for a moment, a grimace passing his face as he thought about Jesus. “’M sorry I wasn’t there with ya’ll,” he gulped in a failed attempt to clear the lump in his throat. “Maybe if I was, if I had been then—”

“We all know the risks of going outside the walls,” Aaron interrupted. “Jesus knew them too. And he made his own decisions like the rest of us. He died making sure the rest of us got away.”

There was a heavy silence for a long moment.

“Look, I can probably get us back to the area Dog and I were at. We can try to talk to her if, and tha’s a big if, we can find her,” Daryl said. “But I ain’t gonna be in on any kinda plan to hurt her in order to make her talk to us. Not after she saved me and Dog. She didn’t have to, and for some damn reason she did. I ain’t repayin’ her for that with anythin’ but askin’ nicely.”

Michonne sighed and straightened up. “Fine. It’s a start.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

Michonne and Daryl were on edge as they moved through the forest, constantly stopping to listen, straining their hearing, checking behind them. Jesus’ death sat heavy on Daryl’s chest like a concrete block, making moving and even breathing harder than normal. It was a tremendous loss and Hilltop was reeling from it. Tara would do what she could to step up in his place, but there was no replacing him.

Finally, Daryl picked up some tracks that were clearly from part of the large herd that had trapped him and Dog, and not long after they began following them he thought the area looked familiar. His eyes searched the trees. He remembered the silhouette of the large trunk of the oak as the lightning had flashed and tried to hold it in his mind’s eye as he tracked, checking every large tree against this mental image. They never would have found it if it weren’t for the walker tracks…

“This is it,” he said suddenly, putting his hand out to touch the tree and revolving in place. “Yeah. This is the one but—” Something on the ground nearby caught his eyes and he paced over to it as Dog pawed at the corner; a large sheet of plywood. It was far too clean to have been laying on the ground for long and Daryl knew what it meant. You had moved.

Michonne stood beside him, looking down at the find. Daryl stood again and shook his head. “She’s gone,” he asserted.

Michonne glanced up at the canopy overhead. “We have to be sure. Boost me up,” she said, approaching the trunk again.

Daryl joined her and boosted her over his head. She struggled to find a hold for a moment and then her weight left his shoulders. She climbed higher until Daryl could no longer see her among the leaves and branches. “Anythin’?” he called up, as loudly as he dared.

“There are some—some supports left but… nothing else,” she called down. Eventually, her feet reemerged and then she dropped down lightly to the ground.

“She wasn’t kiddin’,” Daryl drawled. “Said she was gonna have to move,” he said.

Michonne hummed an acknowledgement but was distracted, scrutinizing the ground. “You said she had at least a couple levels up there?”

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed, glancing back up toward the tree. “I only ever saw the first one, but she climbed higher up.”

“Maybe you can find her tracks again. She would have been moving all her things, maybe multiple trips,” she said hopefully.

Daryl ran a hand back through his hair thoughtfully. “Yeah, maybe… I can try, but with all the rain we had overnight, just one set of tracks might’ve already been washed out. Only reason we even got here was followin’ the trampled ground from that herd. Besides, I have a feelin’ she’s good at leavin’ no trace. I mean, she didn’t even leave the bodies here,” Daryl commented, gesturing to the area around the base of the trunk.

“Yeah,” Michonne sighed. “I’m just worried… If there are more of these people out here, we need to know everything we can about them. Alexandria needs to know, and Hilltop too. The Kingdom…” She broke off, thinking back to their last war and hoping there wouldn’t be another.

“I know,” Daryl agreed. “’M worried too.” He paused, wondering if the others had been able to retrieve Jesus’ body yet. “We can at least look around a bit. Maybe we’ll get lucky,” he said.

It was maybe twenty minutes later as they searched the ground for a trace of the mysterious woman when they did, in fact, get lucky. A small group of walkers, maybe six or seven, moved toward them out of the trees. Daryl and Michonne exchanged a glance, both drawing their weapons.

“Let’s see if any of these fucks are the fully conscious kind,” Daryl growled. “Watch their hands.”

“If we find one, keep them alive if you can,” Michonne growled, flicking her sword. “We need to question them.”

The first two fell as regular walkers but the third screamed as Daryl’s bolt pierced its leg. It was immediately fallen upon by others and quickly died under clawing hands and snapping teeth, a dark pool of crimson blooming beneath the bodies. Daryl noticed two more of the figures stumbling toward him suddenly reversing their direction to move away from the feeding zombies. Behind him, Michonne was putting down more of the dead.

One of the figures trying to turn away from the carnage pulled a knife from his sleeve and lunged, but fell quickly with Daryl’s bolt in his head. At the sight of that, the final figure dropped to their knees and pleaded for their life, throwing their knife aside as both Daryl and Michonne advanced on them. Daryl ripped the mask from their face and looked down in surprise at a young teenager, by his guess no more than fifteen or sixteen years old. She trembled and cried behind Michonne’s blade.

More walkers were inbound, and a hasty decision had to be made. They needed answers more than they needed anything, and someone had to be held responsible for Jesus’ death. “We ain’t got time. We’ll take her with us.”

As they hurried away from another approaching herd, a raven called a raspy croak overhead and Daryl saw it streaking away into the woods.

_ _ _ _ _ _

“I’m telling you, man. Your pipes and my accompaniment… we’re gonna be a two-man band at that festival,” Luke said, nearly bouncing on his toes. Alden couldn’t help but laugh. Despite how worried they were about all the others, Luke was a jovial traveling companion. Most of Luke’s group had gone outside the walls and had not yet returned, and the two of them felt unable to just sit around and wait... Surely, something had happened and their friends needed help.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Alden said. “You haven’t even heard me yet. For all you know, I’m terrible,” he joked.

“No, no, no… I don’t think so,” Luke smiled. “I’ve got a good feeling about this collaboration!” He glanced ahead. “There’s another one of Yumiko’s arrows,” he remarked, nodding toward a tree up ahead, an arrow shaft clearly visible protruding from the trunk. The two men moved closer but stopped short when they caught sight of a figure up ahead, a lone walker. Both of them readied their weapons. “I’ll get it,” Luke said, his weapon in hand.

But the ambling walker was suddenly… not. It froze. It stood completely still. Luke and Alden stopped too. They exchanged a perplexed glance. “That’s… weird,” Luke commented softly. He was about to ask if Alden had ever seen a walker not moving before.

Then, a stick broke to their left. Another figure appeared. Another crack on their right, then behind… More figures emerged through the brush and they all stood still. It was then that they realized the first was holding a bundle of arrows, the same ones Luke had assumed were Yumiko’s. They’d walked right into a trap and they were surrounded. There was no escape.

With no other options, Luke and Alden were forced to drop their weapons. Held in place by several men, the initial figure approached, masked in a sickening skin with scraggly white-blond hair. When she spoke, her voice was soft but dangerous.

“Bind their hands. Gag their mouths,” she urged, swaying slightly on her feet. “We keep them alive until we know about the girl. I’m going to see the others. I’ll return. Do not let them escape or your blood will be spilled.” Her tone was commanding but also matter-of-fact.

“Yes, Alpha,” the other masked figures replied. Alden and Luke watched as she disappeared into the trees again. They were bound and gagged and shoved to the forest floor to sit uncomfortably against a couple trees, able to only exchange fearful glances.

Dusk fell and the shadows lengthened. They were watched through the eyes of grotesque masks as the figures paced around them keeping guard. Their hands and fingers were cold from the tightness of their bonds and their shoulders ached and burned.

Two of the figures stopped next to each other and whispered for a moment before one of them disappeared farther into the brush. Bathroom break, Luke thought wryly. And despite his fear, he registered his need to do the same soon, but he didn’t dare make a sound. He glanced toward Alden who seemed to be staring straight ahead into the gathering darkness. Luke tried to work his hands up and down, trying to loosen the bindings on his wrists, but they were too tight. The backs of his hands burned from the friction. He let out a heavy exhale and tried to stay calm. Maybe the others were still out here… or maybe they were now looking for him and Alden. If they could just stay alive long enough, surely they’d—

Swoosh and then a dull thunk.

A muffled sound of surprise escaped him and Alden at the same time. Luke recoiled farther into the tree behind him as he watched the masked Whisperer who’d been guarding them drop to the ground with a thick arrow shaft in their head. It was tipped with inky black feathers.

He and Alden looked at each other with wide, shocked eyes. What the hell?

There was a rushing sound as the other guard returned through the brush. Before they could even reach the body of the fallen, they too were struck with a deadly shot in their forehead. Luke’s chest was heaving with confusion and fear. Alden was trying to push himself forward so he could get onto his knees and perhaps stand up. Suddenly, a strong hand gripped his shoulder and began to hiss in his ear.

“Move again and I’ll stick a knife in your knee.” Alden retracted from the breath on his ear and the bony fingers gripping him. “What—no!” the voice gasped. They had noticed the bodies.

They pulled a knife and straightened up, glancing around frantically, baring their teeth inside the mask like an animal. They grabbed Alden’s hair and pulled him to his feet, placing their blade at his neck. “Come out! Come outtttt! Or I’ll slit this one’s throat!” Somehow their voice still had the raspy quality of a whisper but it seemed to echo in the trees. A thick silence fell. For a moment, the was neither call of a bird or hum of an insect. The wind in the treetops was still. The trees seemed to be listening. The leaves held their breath. Then, in the distance, Luke and Alden heard the flap of wings and the rush of air beneath them clearly as if magnified by the silence that had fallen over the woods. The throaty croak of a raven called three times.

Swoosh and thunk. The figure’s grip on Alden disappeared and he jerked backwards away from it as it fell with another black-feathered arrow. This one, however, had struck in the neck, too low for an instant kill. The figure writhed and rasped in agony on the ground, the echoes of their cries bouncing off the tree and sounding deafening in the previous calm.

That’s when you dropped down from your perch in the trees above. Luke and Alden watched in shock as a figure, cloaked and hooded in black with a bow in one hand, produced a knife in the other and swiftly stabbed the struggling Whisperer in the base of the skull, silencing and stilling them.

You quickly threw back your hood and looked at Alden first, heading toward him and untying and pulling the gag down from his mouth. He gasped in hurried breaths. You could feel him shaking as you cut and untied the cord around his wrists. Luke looked on, dumbstruck. Alden rubbed his wrists and glanced around, expecting more of those masked freaks to step out from the trees at any moment.

The same thing was clearly on your mind as you rushed to Luke, saying, “That last one was loud. You better get out of here before more show up.”

You cut Luke’s bonds and he pulled the gag down out of his mouth, his jaw dropping open as he turned to stare at you, still dumbfounded. “Who—who the hell are you?” he asked, watching you quickly collect your arrows. They made sickening squelching noises as you pulled them from the skulls of the fallen Whisperers.

You ignored the question and hastily wiped the gore off the arrow heads onto your pants, glancing around anxiously. Stowing your arrows, you looked back at Alden. “You need to go,” you said again.

“Go where?” Alden said. “We don’t even know where we are.”

A raven called again overhead and then in a dark blur came fluttering down to hover over you. Looking up, you held your hand out and it dropped something into your palm before taking off again with a peculiar bubbling sound. Alden and Luke exchanged yet another mystified look.

“Great,” you murmured to yourself, tossing what the bird had dropped into your palm down onto the ground. It was an ear, clearly from a walker. “There are more dead coming. Probably with Shepherds.” You spun your knife skillfully in your hand and glanced at the two men. “I can get you to the old highway, but that’s as far as I go. Come on.”

“Shepherds?” Luke repeated, but you simply plunged off into the trees, drawing your dark hood over your head again.

“Wait—” Alden urged, hurrying after you. Luke was on his heels. “Wait! You aren’t even gonna tell us your name?”

“No,” you said in a hushed voice, “and be quiet.”

Luke took a succession of quick steps to come to your other side. “Listen, uh—you just might’ve saved our lives back there. I’m Luke. This is Alden,” he said. “That’s—that’s a neat trick you’ve got there with your—your crow pal,” he said, laughing nervously. He could feel the adrenaline and endorphins rushing through him, making him anxious and jittery.

“Raven,” you corrected him with a mere sideways glance.

“Oh. Right. Raven,” Luke said. “Sorry.”

You charged ahead into the brush again and the two men struggled to keep up. It seemed that walking through this landscape and the dense vegetation, rife with obstacles, was second-nature to you.

The feeling was still coming back into his fingers, but Alden looked around for a makeshift weapon. He seized a dried pine limb with a sharp, broken end and tested its strength over his knee. Good enough. Luke followed his lead and selected a sturdy branch as well.

You’d barely been leading them toward the highway for more than two minutes when you heard another sound overhead; a shrill alarm call from your raven that you knew all too well. You froze. Luke nearly ran into your back from the sudden stop. You strained your hearing for a long moment… There. You heard rustling to your left and growling. “More here.” you said. “The dead and maybe Shepherds. Get ready,” you said.

You readied an arrow on your bow and charged forward toward the sound, crouching behind a fallen tree to conceal yourself until the moment was right. Alden and Luke followed more clumsily and far less silently.

Peering between the branches, you finally saw them approaching. Alpha was at the lead, followed by maybe six or seven others. She was unmistakable in her gruesome mask with scraggly pale hair. The rest of them? Dead or living, you couldn’t be sure. You pulled in a slow breath, stood, and bent your bow. Alpha was obstructed behind a large pine trunk. The first arrow dropped a figure to the ground and several of the dead stumbled over it before bending to feed. Alpha and two Whisperers wearing masks withdrew knives. Her followers huddled around her. You bent your bow again and let an arrow fly. It struck one of the living in the chest and they screamed as they fell in a heap. Alpha turned and thrust her knife into their throat, silencing them. She stared into the dark trees ahead, swaying slightly on her feet, her large blade glinting in the low light.

She gestured to the other Whisperer and they began to move forward again. You were readying another arrow when there was the distinct sound of many moving through brush to the left. Alden turned and saw more dead inbound. “Fuck,” you swore under your breath. You had to take your eyes off Alpha and fired a shot at the walker in the lead. More stumbled forward… many more. “Get ready,” you said again to Luke and Alden. As you glanced back toward the other group, there was no sign of Alpha. You fired shot after shot into the advancing dead, not missing your mark once, but finally, when you reached back for another arrow, your hand grasped at air. Your quiver was empty. You withdrew your knife again and nodded to the men. Alden leapt forward and thrust the sharp end of his pine branch into the face of the walker in the lead. “Watch their hands!” you cautioned the men, thrusting your knife into the forehead of another. Luke swung his branch like a baseball bat and knocked another to the ground before smashing it’s head in with the blunt end.

You were about to lunge again at a snarling dead one when another behind it suddenly stepped forward with a blade raised. You ducked their thrust and kicked hard at the side of their leg. They crumpled to the ground with a cry and the dead fell on them. You stabbed your knife into two more of the dead, wincing as a spray of blood landed across your neck as you withdrew. Alden and Luke were both still fighting behind you. You turned to join them but were caught off guard when someone kicked you hard in the center of your back. You fell forward onto the cushion of pine needles and your knife tumbled away into the litter.

Hurriedly rolling over you saw Alpha standing over you, one of her followers at her side. She cocked her head and you saw her smiling behind the mask. “Looks like you dropped your knife. That’s a shame,” she said, her voice sweet like poisoned honey.

You scrambled back on your hands, glancing over your shoulder, hoping to see your knife reflecting the moonlight, but it was too dark. The shadows swallowed nearly everything. Your right hand groped for a stick, anything, to wield as she advanced on you slowly, calmly.

Your fingers hit something cold and hard; a stone. You grasped it, your chest heaving.

You jumped to your feet and waited for the right moment. Alpha and her follower were still fixed on you, but behind them you saw Alden put down the last walker. Luke nudged him and the two of them began sneaking up behind your adversaries.

Suddenly, Alpha sprung toward you with her knife. You reflexively jumped back and it barely missed your stomach. She swept it toward you again and you dodged, but she was relentless. You threw up an arm to block another quick attack and felt the blade cut deeply into your forearm. You let out a cry of pain and stumbled to the side, away from her.

“Hey!” Alden yelled, raising his pine branch.

Alpha didn’t even turn to look, her eyes still fixed on you. “Take care of those two. This one is mine,” she growled. Her follower spun to face the men and was soon engaged in fighting with them. Alpha continued to advance and you stepped back slowly, the stone still in your hand. You could feel the warm wetness of blood running down your arm and soaking your sleeve. Alpha lunged again, raising her knife and you deflected the blow to the side, taking the opportunity to smash the side of her face with the stone, knocking her to the ground but smashing the tip one of your own fingers at the same time. She fell sideways and was stunned for a moment as you straightened up, staggering backwards. You felt your boot hit something and you looked down to see your knife underfoot.

“Yes,” you gasped, reaching down. You fingers closed around the handle and then—something sharp and cold pierced your side and sunk in. You let out a pained gasp, all the breath leaving your body in a rush of air. You were suddenly on the flat of your back again and looked down to see her knife sticking out of your right side. She’d thrown it as you bent to retrieve your own.

You heard her laughing and looked up to see her stumbling toward you, still somewhat unsteady after the blow from the stone but determined. She was within two feet of you when a streak blacker than night hit her in the head from behind and clawed at her mask. There was a raucous screeching and flapping as your raven divebombed her and struck her on the head. The shiny black peak pecked into her mask, reaching her face with the sharp bill.

While she was distracted by your bird, you gritted your teeth and stood with a tremendous effort, the knife still protruding from your side. As soon as you were on your feet, your raven disappeared again into the trees. Behind Alpha, you saw that Alden and Luke had dealt with the final Whisperer and were both advancing on her from behind and you smiled through your pain. She didn’t have a weapon now and it was three against one, despite the knife in your side. “You’re surrounded,” you said. You adjusted your grip on your own knife. The handle was slippery from the blood running down your arm. You blinked to clear the slight blur in your vision.

Alpha glanced back over her shoulder briefly before meeting your eyes again. You were hunched over from the pain and she simply smiled. “You’re dead,” she said softly. “And I’d really like to have my knife back.”

“Fuck you,” you growled, suddenly throwing the stone from your non-dominant hand and hitting her hard in the chest. She gasped and staggered back slightly and you rushed forward, raising your knife, aiming for her chest. But you were weak from the pain in your side and she grabbed your wrist as you tried to bring down the blade. The two of you struggled with it overhead. You cried out as the effort sent white-hot jagged bolts of pain through your body. Alpha was stronger than you in that moment and she redirected your struggle down to her side. She thrust a knee up into your stomach hard, paralyzing your lungs and stunning you. You still had hold of your knife but before you could respond, you felt another searing, blinding bolt of pain as she gripped the handle of her own knife and tugged it, ripped it from your body. You fell forward onto your hands and knees and then pressed a hand over the wound on your side. You felt that your clothing as soaked with blood and your hand came away wet and sticky, the crimson appearing black in the low light. Where were Alden and Luke? Why weren’t they helping you? Your gaze lifted to see that they were fighting with another wave of the dead that had wandered in while you were all distracted.

You gasped again as Alpha kicked her boot into your ribs and sent you rolling to the side. You came to rest on your back, trying to pull in air. You looked up to see her rushing you and you summoned the last bit of fight and effort you had and threw all your bodyweight behind your knife and sunk it into her thigh before she could bring hers down on you.

She let out a scream of agony followed by a low growl, whirling and staggering back. The look she gave you through her mask was utter contempt and rage. You tried in vain to get your muscles to hold your weight, to get up, to do something…. But they wouldn’t cooperate. Alpha was standing over you again, limping on her injured leg. The last thing you saw was her boot aiming for your face. You managed to turn your head to the side just before it connected but then everything went black…

[just-some-random-blogger]

Accidental Targ

Scene III: i told you to hold my hand! | Masterlist

Daemon Targaryen x Modern!Reader

Summary: After coming to terms with the fact you were in King's Landing some two thousand years before your birth, you get reunited with your friend and try to manifest your way back to the present. For the meantime, Harwin Strong is your bodyguard.

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: fem!reader, time travel au, descriptions of reader's hair, incestuous gremlin!daemon, very sus and innappropriate boss-employee dynamics, low key sugar daddy!otto hightower vibes, crackfic, typos, etc.

A/N: GUYS I DID IT. I FINISHED IT 😫 Also, its come to my attention that perhaps the way i planned out everything geographically is ??? bad but no its not just roll with it AND!! remember yall voted for him ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i have a feeling you didnt read the prompt fully but whatever HAHAHAA i honestly have no idea where i meant to take this fic, so ???? enjoy?? HAHHAAH

Shoot me if I ever say it again, but for now: gods bless capitalism, specifically for it desecrating a national landmark.

Where once I was one of the people who protested against the building of the High Garden Centre, girl, was I thankful that the old ruins of the fucking Red Keep laid there as a little ol' artsy featurette.

"What's that sound?" Daemon asks as we stand from our spot.

I turn to my side, never before so relieved to hear and see, no more than two blocks away, a rave spilling out of a club, the very one Libby and I were at before we got into this shit show. "That, my prince, is called EDM."

I hurriedly run to Libby's side to pick her up, but Daemon does that himself. He get down and pulls the blue haired woman on his back, and I help him. At the same time, I feel a buzz from my satchel.

My phone!

Daemon watches me as I frantically claw for my device. The amount of texts and call notifications that pop up on my screen is overwhelming. I decide to just let it go off and grab Daemon's arm, "come on."

We walk down from the ruins, shifting through the shrubs and foliage around it. I catch the sight a mall cop and feel agitated when he looks over. He couldn't care less though, the site was open to the public after all, and with a literal club being right there, we were the least of his worries.

We pass the rusty chain fence surrounding it, and draw near Harrenhal (the club). Once we're there, a bunch of men hoot and holler at me. I ignore them as they say something about my 'Targaryen' hair and it dawns on me they were probably calling me princess and lady because I was still in a fucking Targaryen era dress.

Still, I ignore the stupid fucks as they ask to see my pretty skirt, opting to walk faster instead. I was horrified by how loud and violent Daemon's scream was.

He shouted so gutturally that I couldn't understand a lick of The High Valyrian flaming out of his mouth. The vein on his neck popped out and I literally had to hold him back from charging and dropping Libby.

"Daemon, please!" I whimper, heart racing, "Libby's still on you-"

"Grab her and I'll fucking ram steel down- COME OVER HERE AND SAY THAT AGAIN. SAY THAT-"

Steel? I look to his belt. Fucking seven hells, he brought Dark Sister?

I look back at him with wide eyes, feeling nauseous now that I've caught how maddened he looked.

In a panic, I gently pat his face while pulling his arm back, "Daemon, please."

He doesn't look at me.

My voice gets softer and my eyes water, "Daemon, I beg you."

He huffs and clenches his jaw, still not sparing me a glance.

"We don't have time for them," I whisper and keep my hand on his cheek, "I'm just going to connect to the club's wifi from here, then I'll can call us an Ubor."

Daemon does not tear his gaze from the men, who eventually waddle away to whatever sewer they came from, still hollering bullshit as they did.

"Kesan daor nārhēdegon naejot nyetodha aōha irosh," Daemon mutters. I will not forget to slit your throats.

The relief that washed over me was unparalleled when I booked an Ubor set to arrive in 3 minutes. I whimper and rub my eyes, "okay, not long now."

Daemon finally looks at me, still visibly pissed, and adjusts Libby on his back.

I wipe my face, "we're just going to get in the c-" Fuck... I should probably prepare him for the car.

"Okay," I raise my hands, "we're going to get in a metal..." I motion to the space, "... there's going to be a- a- carriage? But with no horse... but and when I get in, you just get in with me, okay?"

Daemon's expression is now one of confusion.

I sigh and place a hand on his shoulder, "it's going to be okay."

His lips curl, "... OK."

I screw my eyes shut and shake my head rapidly, "I mean alright. Alright! ALRIGHT!"

Daemon takes in my visible frustration and nods slowly, "OK."

To be honest, Daemon was a pretty good Ubor passenger, save for the fact his sword nearly cut me, Libby, him and the fucking car seats when he tried to sit without removing his scabbard first. We were lucky the driver seemed to be used to... ren fair people.

He also seemed to be used to driving people to the ER. I was too relieved to think realize how fucked up that kinda is in the moment. Needless to say, I gave him 5 stars and an extra tip.

With Dark Sister in my grip and Libby in Daemon's arms, we finally made it to Lannister Medical Center.

The moment we get there, I run inside the ER and break down at the first nurse I see. I infodump everything, how Libby got attacked, how Harwin lost her, how some maesters tried to help us, how she lost a lot of blood, how I'm afraid she's going to die, how Daemon ended up carrying her, and I just keep going up until I saw Libby's blue hair scattered on a stretcher and the nurse told me to sit down.

I didn't have much fight in me left to argue, so I sit myself down on the bench. But then I see the nurse speaking to Daemon, who, seemed to be explaining what had happened, and I panic all over again.

Before I could stand though, another nurse was there to accommodate me. He did a checkup on me, asked me how I was feeling, and asked if I needed anything to calm down.

I told him I was fine and proceeded to answer his other questions. Daemon eventually came to my side and eyed him.

The nurse gives me a nod and offers a smile, "you seem to be physically well. Just let yourself relax. The doctors have your friend; they'll do their best to help her."

"Thank you."

The nurse nods again. He gives me and Daemon one last look before walking off.

I grab Daemon's hand once it's just the two of us. I look up and shudder, "we did it."

He looks down at me, violet eyes solemn. He brings a hand to my cheek and swipes at my cheek, "ȳdra daor limagon."

"I don't know what that means," I mumble.

"I said don't cry, pretty girl," he kneels in front of me, "worrying will not save your friend."

I stare at him, feeling my heart race and belly roll because of the look he had. He brushes my silver hair back behind my shoulders, only intensifying the flurry in my stomach. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, suddenly, my stomach growls. Oh.

Daemon turns his eyes to my belly as I clutch it.

"You want something to eat... prince?"

Daemon reaches a hand out, "lead the way."

I take his hand, grab Dark Sister, and hand it to him. He fastens his scabbard as we exit the ER and I go through my satchel, fishing for my wallet. Just before I get it, I remember that I blew most of my money on the Ubor.

"Fuck," I curse and turn to Daemon, "I don't have enough money."

Daemon rests his hand on his sword and simply stairs.

"I don't have coin," I clarify. I look around the road and figure our chances of riding a bus at this hour was nonexistent. I give him a look, "do you mind walking home with me?"

Daemon raises a brow, "as opposed to swimming home with you?"

I raise my brows and sigh, "Daemon-"

"Lead the way," he nods and points, "I am not one to tire easily."

I nod and slice through air to drive a point, "okay. No matter what happens," I reach out to him, "you have to hold my hand, okay?"

He looks at my hand then my face, his violet eyes sparkle with amusement. He chuckles but he links his fingers between mine (overkill if you ask me). I'm glad goosebumps don't form.

Daemon smiles softly, "you take me for a child, riña?"

"This child knows how to cross the street," I squeeze his hand harder than necessary and begin to walk off, "I'm not sure you do, kekepa." Grandfather.

Daemon laughs, full-on throwing his head back, "how hard is it to cross? You jus-"

His words go dry when an empty school bus passes us. He was so stunned by the yellow contraption, I had to tug his arm to continue walking.

Just then, a Megatron looking-ass truck drives down the street. I hiss and curse the 14 wheeler for emitting such horrible smoke, eyeing it as it drives away.

Meanwhile, I catch the prince's stunned reaction and almost feel bad for finding it funny. Almost.

We arrive at my apartment about 20 minutes later.

I press the elevator button and turn to Daemon, "don't put your arm between the door, okay?"

Daemon gives me a look.

The elevator opens and we step inside. Daemon gives me a look, "we have lifts you know."

I pull my head back, "you do?"

"At the wall," Daemon retorts as the elevator door closes.

"The wall?" I think for a moment, "ahh. You're right."

A beat.

I knit my brows, "wait, you've been to the wall?"

"Of course I've been to the wall."

The moment we get to my place, relief washes over me. I take my shoes off and scoop my hair in front, "fucking rip this dress off me."

Without a single thought between his brows, Daemon's reaches out to undo the ties at the back of my dress.

Just before he does this, I hear him walk in with his boots and nearly have a heart attack when he passes my threshold.

"OH, ABSOLUTELY NOT!" I turn and shove him back, "take your crusty boots off now!"

Daemon looks at me in bewilderment but walks back and doesn't protest as he removes his shoes. He places his shoes on the rack along with mine.

Not wasting time, he catches my arm and yanks me towards him. He spins me around and immediately undoes the back of my dress. I hastily begin to tug my dress down once I can.

He chuckles, "eager girl."

I rather literally jump out of my dress when I can. Pent-up rage overcomes me. I turn around and start kicking the dress away, releasing all my frustration and anger out on the thing. I curse 8th century Westeros and the Red Keep in particular and assault the object until I'm out of breath.

I proceed to jump onto my sofa and allow exhaustion to finally take over my being.

A second later, I catch Daemon's expression and realize, he probably thought he was going to get lucky when I asked him to basically strip me naked.

"Ahh," I get back on my feet, "sorry about," I point to the dress, "that."

Daemon says nothing as he steps closer. He reaches out for my hip and I swat his hand away. I shake my head, "this is my house."

He chuckles as I evade him on my way to the kitchen, which was not nearly as far as it should have been. The prince eyes the space, "yes. An impressive little room you've got." He follows after me, "I'd love to see the rest of it."

I look at him as I reach my fridge and open the door.

Daemon squints at the light that radiates on me. I cuss at the fact I only had cereal (no milk) and some vegetables that have gone bad. I grab the paper box and hand it to him. He blankly stares at it as I discard the vegetables.

Daemon's brows contort at he box, "it's cold."

I wash my hands, "yeah, refrigerators do that."

"Gra'-nola," he reads.

"Granola," I correct as I dry my hands on my shift.

I'm suddenly struck with the realization his grubby has have never seen antibacterial soap. I snatch the box from him and motion to the sink, "wash your hands."

Daemon turns to the sink and purses his lips.

For a second, I debate if he'd melt if he uses something antiseptic, but then figure I should still take my chances.

I prop the cereal on the counter and exemplify him how to wash his hands. Daemon, with slight reluctance, pumps some hand wash on his palm, opens the sink, and rinses.

I excitedly applaud him once he was done.

"A hand towel," he raises his dripping hands.

I look around even though I didn't have a hand towel. I shrug, "I usually just use my pants."

Daemon shakes his hands by the sink, "your pants?"

"Yeah. They're like clothes that you put on your-"

He grabs my shift and pulls me closer. He wipes his hands on it, "I know what pants are, princess."

I push him off and smirks as he dodges. I make a face, "well, I do so beg your pardon, your majesty."

The prince lets out a low laugh, "don't get too brazen, or I'll have you begging till you weep."

I quickly change the subject, "get that damned sword off your hip." I shoo him and rummage through my kitchen cabinets.

Daemon watches this and chuckles again. He tilts his head as he eyes my legs. He undoes his scabbard, sets it on my dining table, and pulls out a chair. He sits down just as I find a can of Sbam. Huzzah!

I grab a chopping board and open the can. A small smile spreads on the prince's lips as stares. But then, his expression drops when I shake, or try to shake, the processed meat out of the can.

I huff once I've succeeded, and I begin to cut the Sbam chunk, "you know this was in created during the war," I slice a piece, "it saved a lot of people from starvation."

"Which war?"

I freeze when he says this. I open my mouth then close it, unsure if recounting the details of world wars to him was a good idea, "you know what, never mind that."

Once I was done with the Sbam, I got a pan and heat it up. I get a plate and a loaf of bread, then place it on the table.

I click my tongue at the sight of his sword, "off the table!"

Daemon watches as I take Dark Sister and replace it with the plate and bread. I place the sword by the shoes and he takes the plastic wrapped bread. He feels the material and opens it, "what is this?"

"Bread," I retort, going back to my pan.

"No, I know that, but what's it wrapped with?"

I give him a quick look, "oh, plastic," I begin to cook the Sbam, "it's made of carbon... I think- I dunno- don't quote me on that."

Daemon opens the bag and takes a slice of bread. He pulls his had back, "it's sliced."

I beam and jump excitedly, "it is! It's sliced bread! Betty White is older than sliced bread! And so are you!"

Daemon ignores this as he sniffs the piece in his hand. He takes a bite then and makes a face, "why does it taste like that?"

"Like what?"

His brows knit and his eyes narrow, "like a pretender."

I burst into a laugh. I flip over the Sbam with a spatula, "imitation bread?"

"It wants so earnest to be bread," he pushes the loaf away and shakes his head, "but it clearly isn't."

I laugh even harder.

He snorts at my reaction. He smiles as leans back on his chair. A few moments later, he grows serious, "you ought to dismiss your royal baker."

Oh. My lips twitch and I chuckle under my breath, "ah, yes. My royal baker. Yes, I will dismiss my royal baker for making horrible sliced bread. Yes."

The Sbam was now cooked. I present it to him on a plate, "bon app-- ... I hope you like it."

Daemon leans forward to scrutinize the dish.

I press my lips into a line as I sit down next to him. I take a slice of imitation bread and fold in a slice of Sbam. I realize just how hungry I was after taking a bite. Through half-full mouth, I mutter, "it's good."

Daemon watches me and follows suit. He takes some bread and Sbam, then chomps.

I stop chewing. Wait, what if he gets an instant heart attack because his living fossil-self can't handle processed food?

He licks his lips and chews. I begin to grow more agitated as he makes a face.

"It's delicious," Daemon says, going in for another bite.

My agitation turns into shock, "really?!"

"Well, it's no roasted pork, but it'll suffice," he mutter between chews.

I let out a soft laugh and nod, "I'm glad it's enough for the prince."

"I'm honored the princess herself made it for me."

Aw, fuck. Who's gonna tell him?

There is a knock on my door. At the same time, my phone rings.

Daemon is alerted by the sound and I dash away to finally answer my phone.

"What is that?" the prince asks.

"It's my phone. Remember? You can call people with it."

Daemon narrows his eyes as I rummage my bag for my device. The knocking on the door gets louder.

I turn to the door, "just a minute."

I find my phone and feel my stomach drop at the caller ID. The banging on the door persists.

I answer the phone and head for the door, "hello?"

"Fucking hells!" the voice is worn and apparently worried, "where the fuck have you bee-"

"It's not you outside, is it?" I cut him off as I head for the door.

"What?! No! I'm in the fucking North, dammit! Your friends have been calling me nonstop, since fucking Sunday! -"

I open the door and my face falls. Standing before me is a man in a dark teal suit; his tie was loose, his stubble was thick, and he held what looked like a dozen bags in his hands.

"- You and Libby have been fucking missing for days! Where-"

"Mr. Hightower," I lower my phone as the man on the other end continues to chastise me.

Otto Hightower looks me up and down, then sighs, "out of the way."

Without another thought, I step back to let him in. He expertly slips out of his leather shoes then heads towards my sofa. He places all the bags on the coffee table. I follow after him.

I hear my name being shouted from my phone. I close the door and follow after Otto.

I listen in on the call again and I hiss when the voice pierces my ear drum, "Jon, calm down."

"CALM DOWN!? HOW CAN I BE CALM WHEN YOU WON'T TELL ME ANYTHING!?"

I begin to panic when Daemon walks over.

"Who is that?" Otto asks me. He notices Daemon, then makes a face, "who are you?"

I look at Otto, then Daemon, and dash over to the prince, grabbing his hand. I watch in real time the recognition and disbelief that floods the Targaryen's features as he watches the other slowly remove his tie.

"Libby and I got stuck in the ren-fair!" I reply to my phone.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU FUCKING CALL?!"

"MY PHONE DIED, JON!" I shout back a lie.

Otto's brow raises. He looks at me and mouths, "Jon?"

I ignore that and groan "LOOK! I'm fine! Libby's-- ... Libby's," I whisper softly, "in the ER-"

"THE ER-"

"I'M TAKING CARE OF HER!"

"WHY THE FUCK IS SHE IN THE ER?!"

"Libby's in the ER?" Otto mutters.

I raise a finger to answer my phone, "Jon, please. I'll explain everything tomorrow."

He screams my name and I have to rip my phone away from my ear again. I vaguely hear him rant about how I should explain why his sister is in the fucking ER.

"Jon, Jon, I love you but I have to go," I quip and immediately end the call. I turn on airplane mode and throw my phone on to the couch.

I release a breath and find myself pulling a smile as the man in the suit eyes me. He's about to speak, but Daemon beats him to it.

"What was that?" the prince asks, pulling me by the arm to face him.

I turn to him and make a face. It's Otto that answers for me, "her ex boyfriend."

I turn to Otto as he tilts his head and raises a brow, as if daring me to correct him.

I do, "my best friend's brother."

Daemon eyes Otto; the latter makes a face, "who used to your lover," he crosses his arms, "I'm offended you take his calls but not mine."

"And who are you?" Daemon hisses, stepping towards him.

Without missing a beat, Otto meets his gaze and scoffs, "who are you?"

Daemon's pulls his chin back and chuckles dryly. His expression screamed FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT.

I jump in front of him, my back presses his chest. I give a nervous laugh, "Mr. High- Director- Mr. Director- sir. This is Daemon."

Otto watches as I grip Daemon's hands behind me.

"And Daemon," I barely look at him over my shoulder, "this is... my... employe-"

"Otto Hightower," he cuts me off, bringing his hand into his breast pocket, "Director and CFO of King's Landing Holdings."

I wince, fuck.

"King's Landing?!" Daemon laughs out loud.

Otto produces a business card.

"It's a company!" I turn around and wave my hands, "it's a company! An establishment!"

Daemon does not tear his eyes away from him.

"He's my employer!" I explain.

Otto offers a piece of paper between his fingers.

The prince looks at it and slightly pushes me away, "what's he doing here then?"

"That's hardly any of your business," Otto retorts, tucking his business card back into his pocket.

Daemon laughs and finally turns to me. He mutters something in High Valyrian along the lines of 'let me do something' and 'stabbing'. I frantically shake my hand and push him back.

He thankfully relents and I sit him back down on my dining table.

My relief is fleeting when I realize the only reason Daemon didn't refute was because Otto was trailing right after me. My stomach drops when I feel a hand on my back.

Otto is right behind me. He places a few of the paper bags he brought on the table. He opens them, "I bought you dinner."

I turn to him, intent to tell him he shouldn't have.

"Amongst other things," he adds.

Daemon barks, "we have dinner."

"How did you even know I was home?" I say at the same time.

Otto's eyes flick to him, to the plate of Sbam on the table. His face is blank as looks back to me. He decides to remove his coat jacket, "I suppose you'd-" eyes Daemon, "-also think a candle equal to a campfire."

"Mister Hightower," I helplessly mutter.

He hangs his jacket on the backrest. He turns to me, "and you were missing--"

My expression sours.

"-- what did you expect me to do? I obviously utilized my connections. I'm offended you'd ask me such a thing."

Daemon mutters something in High Valyrian again.

"Of course, I had come see you myself," he looks at me through his lashes as rolls up his sleeves. My eyes dart to his sleeve tattoos and arm veins. When I begin to scrutinize the hairs on his skin, I realize I've stared to long.

In a panicked frenzy, I begin to unpack one of the paper bags. He, himself, brings out a stack of food containers and places them on the table.

The smell alone makes my stomach grumble.

Otto steps away and comes back with plates and cutlery. He places one plate in front of me, and has a prolonged stare at Daemon before placing the other in front of Daemon. He says, "I would hate for prince Daemon to be reduced to eating Sbam for dinner."

My expression drops. Daemon does not move an inch.

Otto turns to me and pulls out the chair. I take a moment before sitting down, because, really, did I have any other choice?

Otto opens the containers one by one and my mouth waters as I see lobster, lamb, and lemon cakes. He serves me meat and veggies, "I would assume you're not hurt like your friend."

I watch as he places food on my plate. I gulp before responding, "I'm just... tired."

"Then, I would also assume you'll not be attending work tomorrow," he takes my hand, putting the utensils in them. He scrapes a chair to my side and sits down next to me, urging me to eat with a motion.

I look at Mr. Hightower, "oh no- I will! I will-"

"You won't," he raises a hand, "see to it you're well rested."

I turn to my plate, feeling a flurry in my stomach over his words.

"Are you not going to serve your prince?" Daemon cuts in, raising his brows.

The lamb I was about to eat drops back to my plate.

The two glare, as if willing the other to spontaneously combust.

Before anything else could happen, I stand and reach out to Daemon's plate. I squeak when both grab me by the wrist.

My throat tightens.

My heart races when Daemon stands, "release her."

Otto raises his brows and tilts his head, "sit back down."

I rip my wrists out of their grips. Thankfully, neither put up a fight.

They stare at each other for what felt like ages. My agitation rockets when I see my boss begin to fidget with his hands the way he did when he was annoyed and ready to do something drastic.

I give Daemon a panicked look and grab his wrist, "kostilus." Please.

Daemon clenches his fist.

I continue to beg him until he sits.

I squeak when he grabs my chair by the seat and pulls me towards him. He mutters, "kesan daor emagon ao va bona run." I will not have you near that thing.

I turn to Director Hightower; I could see his annoyance building.

Fuck.

"Miste-" "Enjoy your meal then," he speaks as he stands. He grabs his coat and points, "I've bought some first aid things. I'm sure your friend can help you put that away."

I move to stand but Daemon stops me. He looks up at Otto in disgust, "do mind the steel contraptions on your way out."

I snap at Daemon, eyeing him hotly. He places a hand over my legs, ensuring I do not evade him. I watch as Mr. Hightower heads for the door, and in a split second decision, I turn to the prince and kiss him on the lips.

He is evidently taken aback, but it only takes him another second to get into it. Once he's put his guard down, I rip away from him and chase after my boss just as he exits my apartment.

"MR. HIGHTOWER!"

Otto turns around. I huff as I meet him just outside my door, "I'm really sorry about him. He's... he's just like that."

"You're not responsible for the actions of others," he retorts, nonchalant.

"I know. But still-"

"You are responsible for the company you keep," he adds.

I brush my silver hair back, "and you're not responsible for my well-being."

He snorts and shakes his head, "I'm your superior."

I press my lips into a thin line, deciding not to get into this conversation right now, "that, you are, Director."

We stare at each other for a moment. I examine his well-ironed suit, noticing how he didn't bother to fix his tie or buttons any more.

"I'll-"

"Is he not-" Daemon kicks the door open.

My eyes widen, "DAEMON-"

"-fucking gone yet?!" he points Dark Sister in an offensive stance. I yelp when he swings his weapon and scratches the door.

Otto's fight or flight instincts kick in and he takes flight down the hall.

"DAEMON-" I scream. I duck down and grab him by the torso, "STOP IT!"

Daemon screams out in High Valyrian. He laughs and lowers his sword, "yeah, you better run."

[p0rk-guts]

Tentative final design for Charlie! yes I low-key abandoned the poll results but there's elements there. Really happy with this ^ - ^ design breakdown below👇🏾

I have a plethora of notes on my redesign Charlie's character and personality, but we'll skim over that for now and focus on their design. Og Charlie is supposed to be inspired by or themed after a porcelain doll I think? But it doesn't really come across without being directly told, which we aren't. Also I think her legs are supposed to be goat legs but they look normal as hell. Overall she just looks very basic. Her human edits just change like 3 little details and she becomes some white girl. Not giving "princess of hell" very much.

I wanted to base my Charlie off of a Chimera bc lions represent pride (Lucifer's sin), goats are often associated with the devil, and a snake was the form Lucifer took in the garden of Eden. Perfect thematic storm. I gave them dark hair that gradients into blonde (it's natural because this is fiction and also hell) to represent a lion's mane as chimeras have lion heads. I also gave her various goat features bc they're also part goat, as well as a snake tail like like chimeras have. The snake is like an extension of her subconscious, not its own consciousness, but Charlie often talks to it as if it were.

I wanted to give them shapes that'd allude to their angelic roots through Lucifer as well like with the ears and horns. They're also dark skinned because Lilith— as the first woman— was also dark skinned. Still debating what I want Lucifer to be and look like. Also I didn't draw her with her mouth open here but her teeth still look pretty much the same as they do originally

I really. don't like og Charlie's outfit. Logically. At a distance it looks fine, but under closer inspection it's just kinda weird and ugly. Why does her white turtleneck have buttons? If it's tucked into her pants, why are her pants so low waisted? If it's not tucked in and she wears it over her pants (ew), where's the middle seam? Her whole midsection just looks awkward and ugly to me. And the burgundy cuffs under her blazer?? Where do they come from???

She's a huge musical theatre nerd who's (supposedly) older than the Victorian era itself so I leaned into that and gave her old English and concert conductor inspired attire. I imagine Lucifer liked dressing them in similar old timey outfits. She wears a slightly simplified or toned down version of the style because she doesn't like overstating her status; she wants to come off as approachable and normal (but still kinda falls short of this with her inclination to bold clothing and her general off-putting nature)

Aaalright that's time! I wanna make another post abt her eventually bc I reworked her character a lot and I wanna yell about it. But later. Once again as a gift for (maybe) reading all the way through I offer some supplementary doodles

More hair options I liked but just wasn't sold on

And some sleepy Charlie's! Aka sleepwear redesign. Love the big bonnet with the cute little bow<3 Also if you noticed yes i did she/they her she's somewhere on the genderqueer/nonbinary spectrum now<3

And let me reiterate bc someone didn't get it last time!

[enlitment]

I don't want to sound like an apologist for anything but I feel like it should be acknowledged that the question of morality in different periods of history is complex and not easy to answer.

If you do say things like 'marrying an underaged person was totally okay back in the 1700s so what they did was totally fine actually' it definitely does ring alarm bells (as it should!)

That is not the exactly the same thing as saying 'considering the historical context of the era this person lived in, their behaviour would have likely not been considered too far out of the ordinary'. And I believe you can probably replace this with people's views of slavery or domestic violence and get to a pretty similar thing.

Is it dark and depressing? Sure. It's also, to the best of my knowledge, often fairly accurate.

I mean, I would have to do an actual research on this particular question to make any more definite statements. But just look at Ancient Greece's societal norms concerning relationships. That is definitely a challenge any historian needs to grapple with, but saying that every other man living at that time was a monster just isn't very useful, and doesn't feel like great academic work either.

Sometimes you would need to take a step back and try to look at these issues with more of a dispassionate curiosity to try and understand them. (As with Ancient Greece - what role did these relationships served? How did they influence the Greek culture? The structure of Greek society? etc.) That doesn't mean you renounce your own sense of right and wrong.

I feel like the best approach would be to acknowledge your modern perspective and clearly mark it in the text (something like 'by our modern standards, this would of course be seen as...' or even focus on writing articles from the perspective of the affected/opressed). But then also write about the way such behaviour would have been viewed in the time it took place. This does not, in my opinion, excuse the behaviour - it just helps to put it in the necessary context.

The bonus of this approach is that it allows the historian to highlight when someone's behaviour is genuinely considered morally reprehensible even by the standards of the time (something like 'even in a misogynistic society, his treatment of women was marked as particularly reprehensible' -> well better than that but it's also midnight, I'm tired and I'm sure you get my point).

There is also the possibility that some behaviour that is considered totally okay today will be seen as completely reprehensible by someone reporting on it hundreds of years from now. Something to keep in mind as a historian.

TL;DR definitely don't want to excuse any problematic behaviour but I think we should treat the question of moral norms in history as the complex and difficult issue it is, rather than jumping to conclusions

(also saying that someone's opinion is automatically unworthy because they haven't taken history classes at a university level just feels kind of elitist. Sure, an understanding of historiography and a critical approach are incredibly important, but it is not impossible to get at least the basic idea just from your own reading. And in any case, it is better to explain it rather than to dismiss the person's opinion altogether.)

[muntitled]

Yes I would still love the Lee tang smut!!

Convenience Store Guy

Summary: Confronting your coworker about the weird messages you've received doesn't go as planned.

Warnings: Language, Dark Themes, Stalking, Threats, Slight!DeadDove, Gaslighting, Convenience store era cus that was the best, Unstable Tang, Smut 18+ (Minors DNI) Rough Sex, Choking, Degradation Kink, Kinda Virgin!Tang, Dom!Tang

Stalking is bad. If someone is Stalking you, 100% don't do what y/n does, please.

The more he spoke to you, the more he found it increasingly difficult to act like a good person.

“And guess what else?” The chill in your voice has nothing to do with the oppressive winter weather.

“You're pregnant.” your co-worker says.

You laugh and he laughs because you laugh.

It took a certain level of skill, Lee Tang likes to admit - being able to time exactly when you’d crane your neck back, letting your complaints reach the artificial fluorescents while he lowered his incriminating eyes to your cleavage.

“Remember that unknown number I told you about? The one that kept sending all the weird messages?” Tang hums, bopping his head as he slyly adjusts the front of his jeans, obscured by the counter.

“Shit, don't tell me you got another one,'' As the words leave his mouth, you're already handing your phone to him.

“This was sent to me last night,” You say, swinging your head away from the cash register and towards the wide windows displaying the night beyond. Anyone out there could be the person terrorising you. Anyone could be out to get you.

The text simply and succinctly read:

Wear the same colour tomorrow.

And while Lee Tang attempted to feign uncomfortable ignorance (as one might when your coworker tells you she might be getting stalked), he couldn't help but notice that you were, in fact wearing the same colour. Bright yellow.

For some inexplicable reason… you listened.

“What were you wearing?”

He already knew.

“Is that important?” You step aside, making way for the final customer to be rung up. All the while, Tang nurses an even bigger boner than before.

He did not… exactly intend for his moves to get so bold but texting you and having you listen to hus demands… the demands of a stranger… the whole thing is something akin to shooting pure heroin straight into a fresh vein.

Perhaps you weren't so innocent in the exchange.

“That's not important,” You say quietly before swinging your head towards him again, “I thought we should focus on the very real fact that I might have a stalker?”

“Maybe you should respond to the poor guy and see what he has to say- that'll be ₩5000,” While Tang entertains his customer, you immediately grab your phone before stuffing it into your back pocket. The convenience store buzzes with the exit of the final customer.

“Because entertaining a stalker is exactly what they tell us to do,” you accompany your sentence with a small eye roll.

“We don't know if it's a stalker.” Tang didn't like that term. He'd much rather prefer ‘walking you home from a distance,’

“All this guy has done so far is send a couple weird messages.”

Not a stalker. Not a stalker. Not a stalker.

“Why don't you just block him?”

You'd think by the self gratification in this voice that Tang solved world hunger. You let him dwell in his ignorance, partly because you were afraid to dissect how deep this iceberg went.

You were afraid to admit that you had already blocked the Private number… twice.

Initially you had hoped the messages were the effects of some virus, but they kept getting worse by the second.

[17:59] Just wanted to know if you've had a nice day? :)

[20:22] My cat’s sick. Idk what's wrong with her.

[20:23] I don't have a cat lol

[22:23] Where'd you get your cat?

[01:00] I love talking to you

[01:05] You're so fucking hot

[02:03] I love you

You were afraid to admit that you waited for his message at the end of every long monotonous day.

While you wrestle will all sorts of the moral implications that came with enabling you stalker, Tang couldn't take his eyes off your dress.

Had you really worn the dress for him?

Tang couldn't suspend disbelief even for a millisecond to imagine a world in which that was possible. When he sent that message, he obviously didn't expect a response.

He always believed he was nothing but a fragment of furniture in the workings of your life.

The convenience store guy you occasional spoke to.

Everything began to feel more and more brighter in your presence. The clinical musk that hung in the convenient store began to smell more and more like jasmine and time seemed to grow wings and take off whenever you swung by, chatting his ear off about your latest inconvenience.

One moment you were an irritation, the next Tang found himself seated at his desk, surrounded by a halo of used tissues while habitually scouting out porn where the campy lead actress resembled you more and more. He found it concerningly easy to get off when your eyes, your smile and those beautiful fucking tits were clouding his mind eye.

It was around this time when he started walking you home.

For a while, a vaguely heavy silence sits in between you two. Tang, with his head bowed, chooses to ruminate in an emotion very new and complex to him…guilt.

He is completely unaware that you're watching him, until you sigh loudly. “You know… you could at least try to sound convincing,” your words cause his neck to snap up and he watches with wide eyes as you round the counter, dragging your finger against the cold surface.

“I think I'd find it way more endearing if you don't try to lie to me, Tang.” You're walking closer and closer and he feels like his entire mental state has imploded on itself.

“Fuck, I'm going mental,” he screws his eyes shut and pats his cheeks rather hard. When he opens them, youre still there. His breathing picks up as your warmth penetrates the radius surrounding his flustered, agitated body and Tang immediately sends a worried gaze up to the CCTV nestled in the corner above.

“Some girls respond better to just being asked out.”

A billion lies try to flash across his mind's eye. Anything that might get him out of this situation unscathed. He comes up empty. Eventually, all Lee Tang is capable of, is a droop in his shoulders as he asks, “Are you going to call the cops?”

You don't respond immediately. Choosing, instead, slide your finger over his on the counter. Your warm hands encircling his had the power to knock the very life out of him.

“I should call the cops,” you state very gravely,” you look up at him with a grim sort of fascination.

Lee Tang has mentally checked out. His droopy, ringed eyes are stationed on your lips alone.

“You really should.” He says, before bending down ever so slowly as if to bridge the gap between both of your lips.

“You're sick, you know that? You had me fearing for my fucking life,” You're whispering. Why are you whispering?

“Don't say shit like that,” he whispers back.

“Why?”

Almost before he can talk himself out of it, Lee Tang grabs ahold of your hand, the one stationed on his own and he presses your palm directly onto his bulge. His eyes nearly roll back at the warmth of your small little hand alone and you watch, absolutely mesmerised as he begins to rub your palm up and down and up and down.

“Wait-”

“No.” He states, before motioning to bend down and kiss you, but before he can, you stop him with a hand against his chest.

There it was. That all too familiar pang of rejection. That nauseating, acidic feeling that ate away at his insides.

It made him want to hurt you.

How dare you try to stop him?

How dare you bring him this far, only to take it all away?

How dare you?

“Wait.”

“What?” Your eyes widen at the slightly louder quality in his tone. Sensing that you might have disrupted something that was well on its way to blossoming, you're quick to try and appease his nerves. You watch the conflict in his eyes dissipate and when you step closer towards him, your front pressed against his as you whisper in his ear, “Not here,” before spinning around, in the direction of the break room. It takes a moment for his brain to process your words, but when they do, he's ambling his way onwards, away from CCTV.

The very second he shuts the door to the break room, he's charging at you in a quick, frantic gait.

You're only allowed to feel nervous for a total of 5 seconds before he's pushing you against the wall, forcing his tongue down your throat as if it were his first kiss. His movements are jilted and frantic and so incredibly messy. If it were anyone else you might have been disgusted by his haste only proves to be contagious. You can feel it rubbing off on you with the way you mewl against his mouth, shoving your fingers into his mop of dark, unkempt hair.

“You're so perfect to me, F-Fuck,” he whispers in between kisses. He never strayed too far. Your lips stayed connected by a line of saliva. You were both absolutely wrecked.

“So, long…” he whispers, before shoving his hand over your boobs and squeezing, “I've thought about this for so fucking long. I've jerked off to you for so fucking long- I just-” He breathes out, before flattening his thumb against your pebbled, clothed nipples, “I've always fucking wanted you,”

“How long?”

“Since I saw you,” he whispers before dipping his head in between the crook of your neck. Instead of splaying lazy kisses there, you gasp at the sound of him completely inhaling you. “F-Fuck…” he whispers before pulling back, enough to fiddle with his belt, “I need to fuck you,” he simply and succinctly says before bringing his other hand up to your collar. “You're not gonna go anywhere, yeah?” As he asks this, he curls his fingers around your throat, alluding to the real and very daunting fact that he wouldn't allow you to go, even if you wanted to…

“I'm not going anywhere,” you attempt to coax him yet again but he still keeps a firm grip around your throat as he slides, quite sloppily into your slippery cunt. Now his eyes roll back and he exhales the biggest groan he's ever let out. “I already know I'm not gonna fucking last,” with his free hand he swipes his fingers across your clit, stimulating you to the highest level as you whine and mewl into the air.

“So long,” he continues muttering as he ruts into you, “ s-so fucking long… s-so tight. You're too tight-”

You're caught in the throes of the pleasure of being fucked so throughly and so roughly that you completely miss his question.

“Hey?” He says all too quietly while slapping continuously at the side of your cheek as if trying to bring you back down to earth, “You're such a slut you didn't even hear what I asked you?”

You manage to shake your head.

“I asked if you were a virgin.”

You stilled at the question, sensing that you were walking on dangerous ground. Which, you were realising is a norm around this guy. While you were thinking you had to choose your words correctly, Tang dips his head in between your neck and shoulder once more.

“Doesn't matter,” He ruts against you, feeling himself get closer and closer as his grip on your neck becomes tight.

“I'll kill him-” and for some inexplicable reason you cum at that very moment. Your moans reach the dusty ceiling and you fall apart against him so absolutely.

“You're gonna make m-me-” He's already cumming inside you, all while completely cutting off the air to your lungs. He watches you through his spell of pleasure as you claw at his hand and it only makes him cum harder.

“F-Fuck,” he whispers when he empties the last of his seed inside your weeping cunt. You gasp for all the air you were deprived of and he watches with morbid curiosity as life flows back into your eyes.

“That was way better than porn.” Now that he had you, he didn't plan on ever letting you go.

[oatsmeall]

Friendly strangers.

Jk! x f!reader | smut | not proof read

Warnings: suggestive themes and language.

College au | strangers to lovers

When you started your year at college you didn't think it'd be so lonely.

You didn't really make friends or talk to people at the campus. Your closest friends went to another college, it sucked. You weren't completely disappointed though. You just minded your business and went on about your day.

However.. you and this complete stranger would often see each other throughout the day, that being your AP chemistry course And often even in the library. You didn't know him but you sometimes talked to each other. Not conversation wise but you would ask for a sheet of paper or a pen and he'd do the same. Occasionally when you'd see him in the library, you'd sit at the table he sat at and he'd do the same again. It was a routine, the game of "Friendly strangers".

You will admit though he was very handsome, tall with dark hair in a wavy mullet and tattoos so beautiful, accompanied by piercings on his brow, lip, and all around his ears. His eyes were alluring, doe eyed when he'd ask questions and siren eyed when tension arose.

You're now sitting in the library in a comfortable silence but you really want to get to know him. You've been seeing him all semester and yet you've never exchanged names. This could be a new start to finding friends.

"psst.. hey" you whispered throwing a small ball of scrunched paper.

"hm?" He seemed to become surprised. His doe eyes were prominent.

You moved from one chair to the other to get closer to him.

"what's your name? I figured I should ask... Considering I've got class with you AND we sit together anytime we're in the same room anywhere."

"Right, uh- I'm Jungkook. Your name?"

"Y/n. Nice to.. formally meet you?" You said in a confused tone.

"yeah, same."

It fell silent again, this time somewhat awkward. You looked around the library thinking of something you could say next, to your dismay, nothing came up.

"uh- so...what're you studying for?"

"that chem test we've got next week. Better prepare now to get it out of the way.."

"mhm.. that's great. You're better than me, I just come here to scroll through my laptop and skim through class work or homework. And read, of couse." You say laughing at the last part.

"well it is a library after all. I'm actually about to finish studying. I'm going to head to a corner store right now... If you'd like to come along I wouldn't mind. Maybe we can get to know each other better?"

You were surprised he asked you to go with him. Even with such a straight face you couldn't tell if he was being genuine or if he felt bad...

"sure, give me a sec." You agreed anyway.

"No way? I thought that was from a whole different era? Huh? Who would've thought."

"pay attention more in class Y/n."

"mmk..Mr. Perfect."

You and Jungkook had been conversating out on a random picnic table for what felt like forever, it felt as if you've known him for eternity, like you've known him so long. He had a strange familiarity to him. Unexplainable really.

"you know... I never thought I'd ever talk to you, ever. Or that you'd talk to me at all. I just thought you were so quiet and shy. Which you're quite the opposite.." he laughs saying the last part.

"I could say the same for you Mr. Perfect, but honestly me too. I don't know where I got the guts to talk to you." You shrug eating your ice cream.

"I used to think you were so pretty..I still do. I just couldn't get the attention of the pretty girl." His eyes became lazy, the siren eyes. Oh my God...

His head in a tilt, staring you in your eyes, you felt embarrassment arise. Your face felt warm.

"you're too generous. But you know what... I was thinking.. that you're not so bad yourself, I would stare at your tattoos.." you were trying to sound like a confident woman but you felt awkward.

"yeah? Hm. What about my tattoos did you like?" He asks quietly staring at you deeply.

"I like your big arms and hands...and the way your tattoos adorn them beautifully." you say touching lightly over his hand and up his arm.

"Really? Hm.." his gaze became dark. His big hands suddenly gripped your forearm. He got up from across the table and walks over to you still grabbing your arm.

"how about I go show you what these hands can do? Would you like to come to my apartment?" He says with worry at the end. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

"your apartment? U-um.. yeah sure. You don't have a dorm?" You asked in genuine shock.

"no actually, I moved out my dorm about a month ago... I like privacy." He says in a laugh.

"right.. lead the way."

All you could feel was the subtle pain in your back, Jungkook slammed you into his wall by his entrance to his apartment. Excitement rolled within you.

"Can- uh,, fuck..- may I?" He said between his kisses, he really knew how to get your spots on your neck. It felt so erotic.

"yes- mm yes- of course" you were trying to catch your breath.

"fuck- I want you bad, you're so fuckin beautiful" he said smirking while sucking your neck.

"mhm? Auh fuck, You're good at that"

He then grabbed you and carried you bride style into his living room onto his couch.

He sat with his legs spread apart, such a sexy position for such a sexy man you thought.

You crawled onto his lap causing him to close his legs together slightly, you put your own legs on either sides of his legs now sitting on top of him completely.

You lowered your body completely on him, you felt his hard cock poking your ass.

"excited?" You asked teasing him.

"very" he says shortly after continuing by devouring you in kisses.

Gripping your sides with eagerness, you began to grind on him, he encouraged you more by moving you as well with his tight grip.

"mm fuck baby, you make me harder and harder by the minute" he hisses

"fuck- you're so aggressive, I love that." You say staring at him. Your eye contact felt lethal this amped up your high.

"yeah? You like that?" Jesus, you just met the guy formally and now you're riding his lap?

He grabs your face with his big hand, forcing you to look at him. Your heart literally skipped a beat, you just discovered yourself in this moment, you loved his aggressiveness, THEE aggression.

"Jungkook- I want you...in me.." you say quietly.

"okay.. if you're okay with it then okay."

You nodded quickly. He grabbed you off of him and got up and disappeared into the dark hallway coming back shortly after with a silver foil packet. He sat down next to you. You then took over from there. Without notice you made eye contact with him while your hands went down into his sweats, stroking his cock slowly and teasingly in his pants. You just smirked at him. He threw his head back and hummed lewes noises while you stroked up and down.

"fuck- Y/n...."

You then pulled his sweats down and let his cock spring out. His cock was big. You took in what was eventually about to go into you.

He grabbed the foil packet and ripped it open with his mouth and pulled the rubber out, rolling it onto his dick.

While he was getting situated, you too we're doing the same. You took your short biker shorts off along with your panties, leaving you in your oversized sweatshirt.

He stared at you while doing so mesmerized at your beautiful body.

He pat his lap indicating to sit on it, slightly smirking at you. You did and again you put your legs on either side of his legs, you slowly sunk down onto his cock, you felt your pussy stretch out, but if felt so good to you. Your pussy throbbed, already wet you slid onto his dick nice and easy.

"mm-fuuuck, y-youre s-so big" you winced.

"baby you're so wet, all for me." He hissed throwing his head back.

"oh my God auh-fuck" you moaned as you fully plopped onto him.

He grabbed your waist hard.

"alright baby, hang onto me."

Before you could do or say anything he slammed into you hard, slowly pulling out and doing it again. Your ass smacking his balls and thighs became a louder noise, he began going fast and hard.

"o-oh my- a-auh ffuuuck" your moans were out of this world, it sounded like music to Jungkook's ear.

"yeah baby- take this cock, good girl."

The pet names made your stomach do cartwheels, you became wetter and wetter.

"yes, yes, yes, s-so good" you moaned again and again.

The lewd juice noises where on full ear display, the sound of ass on balls was amplified and your moans and cries were on blast.

"yes baby, you're doing so good, yes" he hissed. He grabbed your waist with one hand and his other reached over to your throat.

This felt so pornographic but the throat grab made your pussy throb and gush.

"uah auh, my god, f-fuck Kook I'm gonna c-cum! Fuuuuck" your pussy began to clench and so was Jungkook's hand around your throat.

"come on baby, cum, cum for me." He was also reaching his high, he felt your clench and his dick felt like it was gonna burst.

"yes, yes, fuck aughhh" you moaned in agony, your pussy was pulsating from the high you just came down from.

"yes baby, good girl" he was out of breath, breathing hard, his from hair drenched in sweat, he moved his hand from your throat your face again forcing you to look in his eyes.

"Kook- what the fuck." You say shaking. Your legs went numb. All that rough fucking made your legs weak, and your pussy throbbed and pulsated from all the force.

"yeah? You liked that?" He said still tying to catch his breath a little.

"yes." You say shyly. Even after that, you can't help but feel shy.

"here, let me get you cleaned up. I'll be right back" he stood up also taking the condom off and disposing of it.

All you could think about is how you absolutely got demolished by a stranger you only met formally today... Maybe you should continue on with these activities.

[azehearts]

Are you, are you coming to the tree?

Where they strung up a man, they say, who murdered three

Strange things did happen here,

No stranger would it be

If we met at midnight in the hanging tree

This is how I imagined them to look like when I first read the book. And OMG! The movie's here! Everything is almost the same of how I pictured it.

Lucy Gray - The dress is more of a 1930s inspired look because I imagined Snow's time to be almost the same equivalent era. And it's a bit of an inspiration from Katniss' reaping dress. The rainbow polka dots is supposed to be snake like patterns and there's rainbow ruffles on the edge of the dress.

Coriolanus Snow - His outfit was originally supposed to be dark blue, but it felt like red fits him more. I have to admit, when I got to draw Snow, I accidentally saw a spoiler/behind the scene picture of their uniform for the movie. So I guess that also affected my color choice haha. Luckily, the pic was super blurry. And I instead based of the details from his clothes in the Hunger Games trilogy.