#I feel like my first couple fics performed really well for some unknown reason

[torn--and--frayed]

Committee Amendments

“She’s a United States Senator, Josh, not a kindergartner.”

“After ten years in this town, you should know that’s a distinction without a difference.”

“I just want to say,” Josh says as he pushes open the door to Donna’s office, “I deserve some kind of a prize.”

“Josh.”

“I’m serious,” he continues, making his way to stand in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, “this must be a new record for me. Out of here by,” he pauses to check his watch, “seven o’clock.”

“7:13 but okay.”

He exhales dramatically, “This must be what it feels like to have a normal job.”

“Hardly. But Josh—"

“C’mon let’s go,” he hikes up his bag and beckons her towards the door.  “I want to see what it feels like to leave this building while it’s still light out.”

“Josh.”

“What?” Josh turns to look at the desk where Donna is hunched at her computer screen and deflates instantly. “You’re still working.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Donna groans and buries her head in her hands, “Senator Stevens won’t take the amendments.”

“To 804?”

“Yes,” she mumbles, still hidden behind her palms.

“Isn’t that—”

“The First Lady’s first piece of legislation?” she questions, her head jerking up from behind her hands, “The legislation I have been frantically trying to keep from getting killed in Appropriations? Yes.”

“Well, what are the amendments?”

“We’re moving the program to a different chapter of the code," she grits, turning to glance at her computer screen. “And I’ve got the Education Committee consultants breathing down my neck telling me if we don’t take the amendments, the bill is dead. And I’m fine with the amendments, her Legislative Director is fine with the amendments, her Chief of Staff is fine with the amendments. So, I don’t understand why she just can’t be fine with the amendments!” she finishes harshly.

Donna lets her frustration stew for a moment, until she’s distracted by the sound of Josh clearing his throat, “What?”

“Nothing.” Josh shakes his head, trying, and failing, to hide his smirk.

“Seriously,” Donna eyes him critically, “why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing!” he laughs. “It’s just—I’m taking a mental picture of this moment.”

“A mental picture?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“To commemorate your first time getting jerked around by the U.S. Senate. It’s a rite of passage.”

“This isn’t funny.”

Josh tries to school his features, “Do you see me laughing?”

Donna groans again, this time sinking dejectedly into her office chair. “I hate Congress.”

“That’s the spirit,” Josh says brightly as he walks around her desk to stand behind her chair. “Just wait until someone double crosses you on a vote count.”

Donna stares up at him from her chair, “You know, I actually have whipped votes before, right? On account of the fact that I previously worked for you?”

“Ah,” Josh nods and begins to knead at the knots in Donna’s shoulders, “Yeah, but it’s different this time because you’re the boss.” He presses his lips to the crown of her head, “Am I wrong?”

“No,” she sighs.

“Now,” Josh pauses and rests his chin against the crook of her neck, “not that you asked, but can I offer you my professional opinion?”

“As long as it doesn’t involve a dead fish…”

“Don’t knock it until you try it,” he mumbles against her neck. “No, if I were you I would…”

“You would?” Donna prompts.

“Call her,” Josh shrugs.

“Call her?” Donna jerks away from him, the indignation evident in her voice. “That’s your advice? I’ve been on the phone with her five separate times today, Josh.”

“Hey!” Josh raises his hands in self-defense, “I’m telling you, as someone who has made a career out of wrangling members of Congress, all you need to do is call her.”

“I think you’re beginning to lose your edge.”

“Tell me,” Josh argues as he drops his bag and swings around her desk to sit in one of the visitor chairs, “on those five calls, how many times did her staff take the lead?”

“All of them.”

“Exactly,” he says leaning back in his chair triumphantly.

“Exactly, what?”

“She feels left out. It’s all moving fast, and she doesn’t understand her own bill. I’m telling you, that’s the problem.”

“She’s a United States Senator, Josh, not a kindergartner.”

If Josh was smug before, he was absolutely relishing it now. “After ten years in this town, you should know that’s a distinction without a difference.”

“She feels left out. Really?”

 “Really,” he smiles, “Now, as your mentor, here’s what you’re going to do.” He points at the phone on her desk, “You’re going to get on the phone, no aides, no consultants, and you’re going to go through each finding, each section, each paragraph—”

“The bill is like a hundred pages long!”

 “Each subparagraph,” Josh holds up his hand to stop her protests, “until she can’t possibly have any questions.”

 “Fine,” she says, her frustration dissipating. She takes the phone from its receiver and instructs her assistant to connect her to the Hill. “This could take a while,” she sighs, “Meet you at home?”

“Nah,” Josh exhales, slapping his hands against his thighs while he stands, I’ll wait in my office. I’ve got some emails to send anyway.”

“You’ll miss the sunset, or whatever it is you were going on about.”

 He brushes her off, picking up his backpack, “We’ll try again tomorrow. Come find me when you’re done?”

“Always,” she smiles as she watches him walk towards the door, “And Josh?” she calls, “Thanks.”

“Anytime. Now go get your amendments.”

[queenshelby]

My Friend’s Father (Part Seven)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Smut

Words: 4,498

Notes:

I have decided to make this into a series.

Alright, no judgment. This was a dream of mine and I felt like I had to write it down. Everyone in this Fic is over the age of 18 and this Fic is in no way based on Cillian’s real family life. It’s pure filth.

*********

Throughout the entire night, you couldn’t help but think about Cillian. You dreamed about the kiss you shared, the touch of his hands on your face and even the scent of his skin.

You knew you shouldn’t think this way about your best friend’s father but it was something you couldn’t control even though you were angry with him.

But there was one person you who you were even more angry with and this was Connor, the man you were actually dating.

You got up early that morning to confront Connor about his behaviour at the art gallery opening and the truth was that you were pretty much done with him. You never had feelings for him in the first place and the truth was that he had simply become a distraction for you. You wanted to distract yourself from having taken a liking in your best friend’s father which, in itself, you knew was wrong.

Connor embarrassed you in front of your friends and Cillian was right when he said that he was acting controlling, even though you didn’t want to hear it, especially not from him.

You knew you had to end it and you knew that it wasn’t going to be a difficult task for you. You had always been a strong woman and you didn’t want to be with someone like that and, just when you arrived at Connor’s house you took a deep breath and did what had to be done.

‘It’s your loss Y/N’ were his words when you eventually left his house after a ten minute conversation but you didn’t feel like you had lost anything. In fact, you’ve gained something and that was experience in standing up for yourself.

***

Just after you encounter with Connor that morning, you went to have breakfast with Denise and her friends at the G Hotel in Galway.

They were all staying at the five-star hotel, courtesy of Denise’s father who had organised the weekend for Denise for her birthday and as a reward for her achievements after she had worked so hard on her project.

‘Happy Birthday’ you said as you greeted her and the others and Denise immediately told you off for being too loud as her head was pounding. It was obvious to you that she was rather hungover from the night the before.

‘You had too much champaign, huh?’ you giggled before handing her the present you had bought for her.

You usually didn’t spend much money on each other for birthdays but, since she was your best friend, you had spent a few hours’ worth in wages and gotten her something meaningful.

She was collecting vintage tea-cups and you had recently found a beautiful Royal Dalton set in a second-hand shop which you knew she would adore.

‘This is absolutely beautiful, thank you so much’ Denise said as she unwrapped it before hugging you gently.

‘You are welcome. I knew you would like it’ you said with a warm smile and, just as you did and sat down next to her, your mobile phone went off.

You received a text message from a number that was unfamiliar to you and when you opened it, you were none the wiser.

‘It was good to see you’ the message said and you were rather confused by it. You had some job interviews recently and wondered whether this was sent by one of the interviewers. Or perhaps someone from university, you wondered?

‘What is it?” Denise asked as she saw the look of confusion on your face when you glanced at your phone.

‘Someone just send me a message saying that it was good to see me’ you chuckled before explaining to her that you didn’t know the number.

‘Maybe it is this guy from university you were talking about a few weeks back? You know, the lecturer in the science department?’ Denise wondered before suggesting to you that you should text back and ask for a name, but you already knew it wouldn’t be him. There was no way he would have your number and you certainly were no longer interested in getting to know him after you had found out that he was married.

You texted back to the unknown number, enquiring who this was and, within a couple of seconds, your phone went off again and you almost choked on your coffee.

‘Cillian’ the message read and you quickly changed the angle of your phone so that Denise wouldn’t see it.

‘And? Who is it?’ she asked while trying to look at your phone.

‘Uhm…just a guy I met a few weeks ago…I ran into him again yesterday morning and I totally forgot about it…’ you stammered quickly but Denise didn’t buy a word you were saying.

‘You forgot?’ she giggled, winking at you as she did and your cheeks blushed almost instantly. ‘Well, he obviously didn’t and you must have given him your number for a reason. Is he hot? What’s he like? I need to know everything…’ she went on to say as, suddenly, without you haven’t sent anything back to Cillian, you received yet another text message from him.

‘For what its’s worth, you looked beautiful’ the next text read and you couldn’t help but smile as you continued to sip on your cup of coffee and Denise most certainly noticed the look on your face and asked you what he said.

‘Just that I looked nice’ you stammered, feeling awful about lying to her about who texted you but there was no way that you could have told her that it was, in fact, her father who you were texting with.

‘Uh, he likes you’ Denise then giggled before carrying on. ‘Well, since you ditched Connor now, you should go and meet up with him and have some fun. After Connor’s one-off ten-minute performance, I have no doubt that you really need it’ Denise said and, just as she did, the conversation across the breakfast table took a turn. Like so often, it now was all about sex and you realised that dissatisfaction was a common occurrence in women your age.

‘I believe that the whole talk about the female g-spot is load of rubbish. It’s a myth’ Amalie observed eventually after everyone across the table complained about the lovers that they had.

It was at this point that you mentally checked out from the conversation and, whilst you thought about the one pleasurable experience you had in your life when it came to sex, you certainly didn’t want to talk about it in front of Denise. Especially not Denise.

Instead of engaging in talks about vibrators and the male anatomy, you decided to respond to Cillian’s text messages after you had received yet another one, telling you that he was sorry. Clearly, he was desperate to hear from you.

‘I see, you kept my note?’ you responded quickly, ignoring his compliments and apologies, and, just moments after you sent it, you received a response from him.

‘Kept it in my wallet. Can we meet?’ Cillian asked and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes just before you received yet another message from him which read ‘BTW this is not a booty call. I just want to talk with you. Please.’

His message made you laugh but you agreed to meet him nonetheless.

‘I have an apartment at the Docks. Can you come there?’ Cillian asked in his next text message.  

‘Alright. How does 4 o’clock sound? Text me your address’ you texted back and it wasn’t long until Cillian sent you the address of his apartment.

‘And?’ Denise asked as she watched you text with the mysterious stranger and you simply blushed again and responded with a short and somewhat embarrassed ‘nothing’.

‘Oh common, tell me Y/N. I am your best friend’ she then said and you confirmed that you would quickly meet up with him this afternoon before Denise’s birthday dinner.

‘Oh la la, you are having a date’ Denise then said somewhat excitedly.

‘We are just catching up to talk Denise. It’s not a date’ you then said.

‘Sure…whatever you say Y/N’ she then said sarcastically which is when, finally, she backed off and you received yet another text message from Cillian.

‘Looking forward to see you, xx’ it read and your heart skipped a beat pretty much then and there.

***

After you went home to have a shower and get changed into some nice jeans and a black shirt as well as some nice lingerie (just in case) you made your way to Cillian’s apartment.

You parked around the corner and walked the rest of the way just to be sure that no one would see your car being parked there.

‘Jesus’ you said somewhat surprised when you walked into the lobby of the apartment building and took the elevator to the top floor after Cillian had buzzed you inside. You had never been to a building like this. It was luxurious and right on the harbour.

When you arrived on the top floor, Cillian already waited for you, glancing through the door of his apartment.

‘Wow, these are some good views. Do you own this place?’ you observed as you stepped inside and set your purse on the desk by the door.

‘Yeah, bought it a few years ago’ Cillian said as you began to shrug off your jacket, but Cillian came up from behind you, and caught your hands. You looked down at your hands, noticing that yours dwarfed in his. They were warm and soft.

‘Let me take this for you’ he said like a gentleman and you were somewhat surprised by his gesture. This was not something you were used to but you liked it, a lot.

‘You know, I didn’t expect that you would text me, especially not after last night. So, what is it that you want to talk about?’ you asked nervously and, just as you did, Cillian cut straight to the chase.

‘I wanted to tell you, in person, that I am sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have lectured you about this guy who you are seeing and the truth is that, yes, I was jealous and I know that I had no right to be jealous and for that I am also sorry. I should have acted differently, especially knowing that you are my daughter’s best friend’ he admitted just before you cut him off.

‘Well, for what its worth, I ended it with Connor this morning because I think you were right about him’ you said with a nervous smile, causing Cillian to cock an eyebrow.

‘I can’t say that I am not happy about that’ he said jokingly before continuing on. ‘But, regardless of this, I think that we need to talk about how we move forward from what happened between us for Denise’s sake’ he then said, causing you to nod.

‘Yeah’ you then said somewhat disappointed before building up your strength in order to say something else. ‘The thing is, Cillian, I know what I want. I just think that you don’t’ you said, cheeks blushing.

‘And what is that you want Y/N?’ Cillian asked curiously as if he didn’t already know the answer to his question.

‘You’ you then admitted and, just as you did, Cillian’s hands caressed your face and he pulled you close and kissed you yet again.

The kiss was slow and passionate and, unlike the night before, you allowed yourself to give into it until, eventually, your lips drifted apart.

‘Are you sure Y/N? Because, I am much older than you and you probably have better offers with more assurances that I simply cannot offer you’ Cillian then asked as he was standing directly in front of you and held you against his body.

‘The fact that you are older actually turns me on’ you admitted before pressing your lips onto his again and then pulling away. You adored his wrinkles and greying hair and you were surprised that he had no idea how attractive he actually was.

‘But what is it that you want Cillian?’ you then asked as you felt his firm chest against you while his warm breath fanned against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

‘Honestly, I don’t know Y/N. I have never been so fucking confused in my life’ he explained reluctantly, not knowing where to place the feelings he had built for you. You were over twenty years younger than him and his daughter’s friend and this clearly bothered him. He knew that this wasn’t something he could easily overcome.

‘Well, I am confused too but I like you, a lot’ you admitted, also unsure about what this was that you were feeling for him but, what you knew was that you wanted to give whatever this was a chance. You were curious and you were filled with desire for this man standing there right in front of you.

‘And I need to know that you feel the same and that this isn’t going to be just another mistake you are making because, if you are going to walk away after we have sex, then I am not up for it’ you then explained, wanting to ensure that he wouldn’t pull away from you this time.

‘No more mistakes Y/N. I like you and I want this’ Cillian whispered as he pressed his lips firmly right under your ear, slowly kissing down your neck.

‘I want you’ he then said as his breath tickled your skin and the firmness of his kiss made your stomach flip.

‘Then that’s good enough for me’ you huffed out in a laboured breath and just, as you did, Cillian used his hands to spin you around, causing you to face away from him.

Then, his hands dropped to your waist where his fingers gently edged themselves under the hem of your shirt, barely touching your skin. His lips moved, and he left a trail of kisses down your shoulder and towards your arm.

‘I knew this was a booty call’ you teased as you couldn't help but move against him.

‘Do you want to stop?’ he asked as your hips rocked and shifted while he gently brushed his fingers against your skin.

‘Hell no’ you giggled before you lifted your arms and he began to pull your shirt up.

You felt like you were performing some secret dance that we both knew, but that you'd never realised you'd known.

Cillian lifted your shirt inch at a time up off you, and let it fall to the floor. He sighed in satisfaction as he looked down at your breasts.

‘Why are you so fucking perfect?’ Cillian asked and you opened your mouth to answer but it came out as a sigh as his hands tightened around your waist.

‘Let’s take this off’ Cillian said determined as one of his hands inched up towards your breast, and he squeezed it gently. Then, his hands came away from you, and unsnapped your bra.

You practically shook it off of you, and then dropped your hands to your jeans. You needed his hands back on you again as soon as possible and turned to watch him as you kicked your shoes off and shoved down your jeans, your underwear coming with them.

‘Eager, are we?’ Cillian chuckled as he quickly began to undress himself as well after you had given him a look full of hunger and anticipation.

‘We are short of time’ you said as you were momentarily distracted by the sight of him unbuttoning his shirt, but you hurried to kick off the fabric wrapped around your ankles.

‘We’ve got at least two and a half hours Y/N’ Cillian then said as you finally stood there in front of him completely naked.

‘Exactly’ you chuckled as Cillian was still fighting with the buttons on his shirt, and you grabbed the fabric of it and pulled him against you, crushing your mouth against his.

Cillian made love to your mouth with his lips and his tongue. He was firm, slow, and demanding.

You breathed together, tasted together. He dragged a soft moan from your mouth with a caress of his lips. He explored you, letting his tongue run along the roof of your mouth. Your teeth crashed. He sucked your tongue into his mouth, and your stomach clenched and you let out an embarrassingly desperate sound.

Before your first night with Cillian, you'd never been kissed like this. The kisses you shared were more intimate and more sensual than anything you'd ever experienced in your life.

As you were kissing, you finally managed to unbutton his shirt and shoved it open. Your hands ran up and down his chest, exploring his toned body all the while he was relentless in his kiss. His arms wrapped around you, one hand pressing into the small of your back, and the other working his fingers into your hair.

With a small tug of your hair, he pulled your face away from him.

‘I could kiss you all day Y/N, but you said that we are short of time so you better get onto the bed’ he winked and you snaked your arms around his neck and kissed him while he walked you back into his bedroom and towards the bed.

As you were moving towards the bed, he fought with his belt and his pants all while his lips never left yours.

You shuffled awkwardly backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed, forcing you to sit down. You kept your arms behind you to prop yourself up, smiling as you watched him finish undressing. He was just gorgeous and so goddamn perfect.

‘You are so sexy, you know that?’ you said full of desire while you watched as he pushed his pants down, kicking them off his ankles and standing in front of you completely naked, and... Sweet. Baby. Jesus…your mouth watered at the sight of his hard cock.

‘So are you’ he winked and, just as he did, you met his eyes again after having stared at his cock for a little while. That terrifying intense stare was back, and he looked like he was going to eat you alive. For all you knew, he would.

Without breaking eye contact, Cillian bent down and went to his knees at the foot of the bed, grabbed your legs, and pulled you closer to him, spreading your legs wide as he did so.

‘Lay back’ he ordered and you couldn’t help but bite your lip in anticipation.

‘What are you going to do to me?’ you asked as he was still staring at you. A slow smile graced his face.

‘I am going to make love to you with my tongue until you cum’ Cillian smirked and the idea of his face between your legs made your breath catch.

‘Oh, Sweet Jesus’ you moaned as he let go of one of your legs and put a hand on your shoulder. He pushed you back and then he lowered his lips to you.

Sweet bliss washed over you in an instant. You gasped, and moaned, and shivered. Cillian lapped at you like you were the sweetest treasure he'd ever put in his mouth. A slow, deep rumble from his chest travelled straight into your body through his lips, shaking you to your core. His tongue dove inside you, exploring you. He sucked on the lips of your sex, and the circled his tongue around your clit, sending powerful shocks of pleasure straight to your centre.

He was building you up to something big. Something beautiful.

He eased off right before you exploded, and you cried out.

‘Cillian, don't stop, please’ you moaned and, just as you began to plead with him, his fingers began to gently run through your wet slit.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t’ he said as he slowly pushed two of his fingers inside you before his tongue resumed its work on your clit.

Curling his fingers slightly upwards, he reached an unfamiliar spot deep inside you and, as soon as he reached this spot, you cried out in pleasure.

‘Oh god, fuck, Cillian’ you moaned as his fingers began to gently thrust in and out of you while he made love to you with his tongue.

With his skilled tongue and fingers working you, it didn’t take you long to reach an orgasm. Your legs began to shake almost violently as a wave of pleasure erupted through your body and your walls tightened around Cillian’s fingers.

When you finally came down from your high, Cillian stood up, pushed his hands against your hips, and slid you farther onto the bed.

‘You sound so fucking sexy when you cum like this, without having to hold back’ Cillian observed as he climbed onto the bed. He crawled towards you like a wolf stalking his prey.

‘I want you inside me, please…I am aching for your cock’ you moaned, spurring him on and, without losing any time he spread your legs wide and pressed the head against your slit, gently working the tip in and out, teasing you.

‘Oh god, please, stop teasing’ you whimpered, trying to wiggle against him. You wanted to feel all of him so badly.

‘Be patient, we will get there’ he whispered, and leaned forward so his arms were on either side of your face.

You felt him push a little deeper into you.

‘Oh god yes’ you gasped and winced and Cillian tilted his head and took your mouth with his, kissing you slowly as he rocked in and out. His lips and his tongue matched the pace of his thrusts, and you felt overwhelmed with desire as he slid deeper and deeper inside of you.

‘Fuck you feel so good Y/N’ Cillian groaned as he stretched you and pushed you until he was all the way in, and he pulled his mouth away from yours just long enough to let out a string of curses before he took your mouth again.

You couldn't breathe. Everything about him was amazing. The way he felt inside you was just perfect.

He held your head firmly in place as he kissed you, thrusting into you and grinding his hips so that he hit every single spot you didn't even know you had. Right as you were nearing your climax, he pulled all the way out and pushed himself off of you, pausing to catch his breath.

‘No…don’t stop…I was so close’ you whimpered.

‘Don’t worry, I am not done with you yet but I do enjoy teasing you’ he gasped and you could tell that he enjoyed edging you which is something no other man you have been with had ever done to you before. Unlike them, Cillian had amazing self-control which you thought might come with age.

Almost an hour later, after he edged you numerous times and made you change positions on several occasions, you ended up with Cillian on top of you once again. He slid back inside you, resuming his relentless pace. With every thrust, he ground his pelvis against your clit, and with only a few careful movements of his hips, you exploded in pleasure around him. There was no way you could have held back any longer as waves of heat and ice crashed onto you, and you fought to breathe through the intensity of your orgasm.

‘Fuck Y/N’ Cillian groaned shortly thereafter, feeling your walls contract around his shaft. He collapsed forward onto you, and you could feel him pulsing inside you and filling you with rope after rope of his warm cum.

You loved the feeling of him cuming inside you and his breath was hot against your neck, and he kissed your neck and your mouth again as he pulled back and out of you, giving you a chance to breathe.

***

‘Cillian’ you whispered, barely able to speak even after five minutes had passed since you came down from your high.

‘Yes Beautiful?’ he said, and moved slightly so he could wrap his lips around your nipple. He sucked and tongued at it, and pulled at it with his teeth.

‘Careful’ you laughed, and shifted under him slightly. ‘I’m super sensitive now’ you said.

‘I certainly hope so’ he murmured. ‘Although, I am not done with you yet. We still have an hour before dinner’ he smirked and your eyes widened immediately.

‘Oh really?’ you asked surprised and, when you looked down on him, you noticed that his cock was already hardening again just after a short five minutes of relaxation.

‘Really’ Cillian then chuckled as he rolled you onto your stomach, spreading your legs and crouching behind you.

Without losing any time, he lined himself up with your entrance and pushed back inside of you, eliciting a loud groan.

After doing you from behind for what felt like forever, he'd hauled you up into his lap and made love to you with his arms around you and our foreheads pressed together. You'd watched his eyes widen and roll back in his head as he came inside you again just after you reached your own high as well.

He then kissed you as he slowly pulled out of you, and then carried you in his arms like a bride into the bathroom where he'd showered you, washed your hair and your body, and treated you to another mind-blowing orgasm with his fingers.

‘I am fucking sore Cillian’ you huffed out as you were standing in front of the mirror and retouched your make up with a white towel wrapped around your body. You had only limited supplies with you in your handbag but were somewhat lucky that Denise had kept a few items in one of the bathrooms in the three-bedroom apartment.

‘I am sorry’ he then said as he stepped behind you and applied some more aftershave before kissing your neck.

‘Are you?’ you asked, looking back at him before pressing a gentle kiss on his lips.

‘Not really’ he then smirked before buttoning up his shirt.

You knew that you couldn’t arrive at the dinner together and, after you got ready, you decided to walk to the restaurant first so that Cillian would allow you a ten-minute head start.

But walking was difficult in itself and Cillian had a slight chuckle when he watched you waddle out of his apartment.

Your core was stinging but it was defiantly worth it.

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[bangtanlalaland]

more than enough | knj (m.)

synopsis ⇣ your unfortunate divorce has left you questioning life and your entire existence. that is, until, your counselor demonstrates just how much you’re worth.

— marriage counselor!au

⇢pairing: marriage counselor!kim namjoon x divorcee!female reader

⇢genre: angst, smut, pwp

⇢word count: 5.4k

⇢contents ⨯ warnings: someone plz stop me from writing these porn-filled, no plot having fics, i think i need help, dom joon makes an appearance (who doesn’t love this man? uwu), lots of filthy filthiness, swearing, oral sex (f + m receiving), drunk bathroom oral sex actually (oops), did i mention jungkook makes an appearance? (he’s that blonde babe from the bathroom scene) 😏, masturbation, unprotected sex (always stay safe!), rough sex, breathplay, dumbification, hair-pulling, spanking, slapping, choking, creampie, impreg kink (ugh my fave), over-stimulation, voyeurism (oof), multiple orgasms, name-calling (being called a slut), jungkook’s tongue is magical, namjoon’s dick is huge (don’t @ me), premature ejaculation (oops)

a/n: I’ve had this also in my wips for awhile 💜 including like 10+ wips with joon because he’s my bby & I love him so much ugh!

Your fingertips awkwardly fiddle with themselves, a slight tension in your shoulders that you’re sure is visible. With legs crossed, you take a deep breath and contemplate your next guilty pleasure meal of the day. Everything around you seems black and white; since your divorce, you’d become null and void — not understanding why life itself got you to this point. You’d often question your purpose in life.

Why me? What did I do wrong? Am I not enough?

But here you are, reminiscing when everything seemed smooth, lovely, and peaceful. When things weren’t always about arguing over finances, hectic work schedules, a decrease in the amount of quality time spent together, or most importantly: pleading for just the smallest ounce of attention.

The sudden sound of your counselor’s throat clearing startles you, “Mrs. ____?” His notepad and pen in hand, his eyebrows raising up at you, slightly. Not having realized you’d zoned out, your fingers stop moving on their own accord. Your back straightens up just a tad more.

“Sorry, I-”

He cracks a smile, his hand raising up in reply, “Don’t be. Take your time,” You take a deep breath, and silently woosah yourself. Some part of you is curious as to why people like your counselor work these kinds of jobs. You couldn’t imagine having a career where you’re required to keen in on people’s problems everyday and offer advice, when you have problems of your own and can’t get your shit together.

Ugh, life.

“I’m hanging in there. I guess?” He cocks his head to the side, eyeing your expression.

“Can you tell me one good thing that happened to you this week?” You take a deep breath, followed by a coy smirk.

It had been a long time since you stepped out and especially in risqué attire. Your roudy friend and co-worker, Candice, insisted that you needed to spend the night out to celebrate your now freedom — post divorce. A slight sentiment of anxiety takes a toll on you, that is until she orders you both a couple shots of tequila to rile you up.

“Here’s to being young, wild, and free baby!” She exclaims, clinking her glass against yours. The both of you tilt your heads back, inducing more alcohol — hissing due to the slight burn in the back of your throat. Candice taps your shoulder, and hell were you feeling the aftermath of the liquor. You’re all giggles and feeling loopy.

Next thing you know, you’re locking lips with a cutie in the bathroom. Teeth and tongues clashing against each other, the thrill of getting it on with someone you don’t know was exhilarating — courtesy of the liquor in your system. Your mind hadn’t registered the lingering aroma of his cologne, until he pressed you up against the wall and stooped down on his knees, reaching under your dress to pull your panties to the side. Your lady lips revealed to him, and it’s as if he’s as horny as you are in this moment, if not more. The blonde-haired babe glares up at you with those pouty lips and dives head first. His nose brushes up against your clit as he licks a long strip along your folds, stopping to circling his tongue around the bud. His lips encase around your clit, and his muffled moans vibrate against your core, making you throb relentlessly with much arousal. He lifts your leg up and over his shoulder, while your back rests against the wall — an attempt to keep some leverage while having him in between your legs like this.

“Mmmm,” was all you could hear from him as he licks up and down your pussy lips, coating them with his saliva.

Your mind couldn’t even process the last time you’d been eaten out like this; uncontrollable moans slipping out of you, and it feels oh so damn good. Your hips grind against his tongue, helping to bring on your orgasm at a much quicker pace. His soft fingers grip your thighs to keep you in place. He pulls away with a pop and stares at you with those gorgeous, doe-like eyes. Your chest rises up and down, panting to gain your breath back. His fingers find purchase on your lips, and with a light tap you open up sucking them in your mouth. A low groan slips from him, you bob your head back and forth making sure to coat his digits and suddenly he pulls away. With furrowed brows, you hadn’t even processed that his fingers rammed into your pussy, your walls now warm and wet, inviting them in. Your fingers grasp onto his hair, pulling and tugging once his thumb swipes your clit intently. You’re so close and just need a slight push.

“Damn babe, how can you be this wet?” He giggles in your ear. You can smell whatever it is he doused himself in from the bar. You can’t quite pinpoint what exactly, but it is there.

“Just fuck me already, please” You plead with his fingers still inside you, he rubs your clit just right and repeatedly thrusts his fingers in and out. The obvious squelching sound of your pussy can be heard, and you pray to God nobody else suddenly walks in. You guys did lock the door right?

Shit.

And then he stops, removing his digits from you. You frown instantly.

“Need you in my mouth,” He adds, returning to his previous position from before, His lips wrap around your folds, sucking and tugging them with hunger. Like he’s having the most delicious meal in his last day on Earth. He continues to make obscene sounds with his slurping noises, his fingers press and rub onto your clit in a rapid motion. Your thighs give out, and it’s a clear indication to you that you’re going to cum. Has it really been this long? Have you really forgotten what it’s like to have an orgasm? That feeling deep within where the bottom of your tummy and core meet, feels tight as a knot. He lashes his tongue out to glide along your folds and sticks himself inside of you, tongue fucking you while rubbing your clit.

“I’m going to cum!” You cry with a labored breath. He uses your cry as a sign to lift your leg over his shoulder while he grips your waist, his hands land on your ass — gripping your cheeks firmly. His tongue lands flat to paint his saliva all over your cunt, his hands aid in gliding his tongue up and down your pussy at a rapid pace. He shakes his head back and forth, his tongue brushing across your throbbing, aching clit as a result. He continues at his relentless pace and suddenly that feeling inside snaps.

“Fuck!” Your thighs tremble violently and your core contracts continuously. Your back arches off the wall, but the stranger doesn’t stop his motions, his tongue continues on its own accord, not letting up. You even feel his fingernails digging into your cheeks slightly. Your fingers grasp onto his strands, tugging with an necessary amount of force — mimicking his motions. His low moans suddenly drawing out more than you expected, adding an extra touch to your orgasm, — your clit feeling used having been stimulated for a moment too long. The trembling of your body subsides, your legs attempting to hold on for a little longer as you fight to push him from you.

“O-okay. Okay, that’s- E-enough. Fuck!” To your luck he pulls off with a swipe of his hand across his mouth, panting and out of breath. You assume that’s the only reason he gave up, until you notice he continues to moan, his face contorted into an expression you suppose is from a feeling of ecstasy. And then his gaze drops down to his clothed crotch; his wide eyes roam upwards to your form, with lips parted. Your trembling figure gradually regaining composure.

“Oops,” He slips, letting out a contagious laugh. You follow where his gaze was before and shake your head.

“I-it’s okay, I understand.” His eyes crinkle up in a crescent-moon shape, and you somehow notice the rosy tint of his cheeks, streaming to his ears. Poor thing. He’s probably embarrassed.

Your counselor listens with open ears, taking in everything you’re describing to him, while jotting down what you think are a few notes. But to your unknown avail, he has written:

Client lacks in sex life, due to divorce Stranger gives oral sex; client reaches orgasm

Namjoon clears his throat before proceeding, “And what is it that makes this-” He pauses to gather the correct words, attempting to wash away the imagination of you spreading your legs out, pussy on display, on his leather sofa.

“Experience a good one for you? Is it the thrill from having an orgasm? Maybe the act of having a stranger perform oral sex on you? Or is it because he orgasmed in his pants by performing oral sex on you?”

You contemplate for a moment, thinking deeply about his speculation. You admit it; he’s great at his job. Well, at least better than you would probably be in his line of work. With legs still crossed, you playfully dangle your ankle up and down, your leg now having fallen asleep but you’re somewhat in an awkward state — speaking to a male about your recent sexcapade.

It’s times like these that you wished you were referred a female counselor. And it doesn’t help with how attractive Mr. Kim is, which is definitely a deal breaker for you. You take in his lavender streaks that paint the strands of his hair, paired with highlights of platinum blonde.

Although, you can’t help but ponder what he thinks of all this? Seeing it as you’re a divorced woman, having developed a dry spell, and can’t seem to even orgasm from her previous husband — the person you’d committed your life to, to what you assumed would have been able to please you in the bedroom but unfortunately he failed. It’s embarrassing, to say the least.

Mr. Kim had been there through it all, the good and bad, the ups and downs, twists and turns. It wasn’t that he failed his job, no. He was perfect at it; but, your marriage simply failed. You wouldn’t be surprised if Mr. Kim confessed that he knew what the outcome would be, because it was that obvious. But your ex-husband had to hire a professional simply because he was too prideful to admit his wrongdoings and actually “man up” to fix his problems.

Part of you hated that you’d stuck around after the divorce, and you’re surprised Mr. Kim hadn’t suggested you no longer needed of his services. But, you suppose he was just being kind, offering the best of his services — while another part of you assumed he understood that you do need someone to vent to. Being as that, doing so helps to ease the mind. You’re sure he’s aware that everyone needs to talk to someone, even if it’s a stranger.

Except in this case, Mr. Kim isn’t a stranger — quite the opposite actually and some part of you felt vulnerable to him. The fact he knew your story; any personal thing you could think of that’s ever happened to you — you had spilled it all to him. You contemplate: Who does he confide in, despite his career being that he helps those in desperate times of need? Does he ever vent to anyone? And if so, does it help him to stay sane?

You shake your head at the thought of it all, wanting to piece the entire process altogether. You’d almost forgotten he was still here in this very room with you, awaiting a response to slip. And damn, is he patient. You curse yourself for having zoned out that much, and with a clearing of his throat you are gracefully brought back to reality. The atmosphere suddenly parching your form, an odd sensation of heat pooling over you — paired with a sheen of cold sweat approaching.

He stares into your gaze, as if studying you for a moment.

“Mrs. ____?” His eyes still glued onto you, searching for any sign that you will open your mouth for once. But, you can’t seem to say anything else but one word.

“Control.” His eyebrows flick in response and he slowly nods — having scribbled something into his notes:

Control?

“Control?” He questions, giving you the spotlight to elaborate on whatever it is you’re implying. Your foot stops dangling, having now closed both of your legs entirely, squeezing them together. The visual of that stranger’s mouth lapping at your cunt flashes through your mind.

You take a deep breath, “Yes, control.” Namjoon’s eyebrows quirk upward, as if signaling for you to continue already.

“I-I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” You blurt out while grabbing your belongings, in a hurry to leave. Namjoon seethes. He’d endured months, perhaps a year of therapy with you. He refused to let you walk out without being satisfied. And he knows exactly what you need. He had the date written down, when you came to him for one of your sessions and confessed how long it had been since you had sex. It’s a memory he’d never forget, because although he’s a licensed counselor and shouldn’t personally involve himself with his clients — with you it was different. He despised the way your ex-husband treated you. It was wrong, and he couldn’t take the pain of seeing you stressed beyond your limits.

“ ____,” His deep voice now dipped in a stern tone, one you’d never heard before, and he never calls you by your first name. Like ever. With your back turned, you can feel his presence directly behind you. So close, you could practically drown in the warmth radiating from his body. He reaches past you, his fingers finding placement over the lock of the door.

“Sit down,” he commands. You shudder under his rigid voice, finding yourself to obey as he instructs, somewhat afraid of what he’d do if you didn’t comply. His towering figure follows back to his seat prior to your attempt of departing. His legs now spread wide and back slightly slumped in his chair. Your shoulders naturally tense themselves, a result of the heat wave washing over you.

Namjoon glares at you with an unreadable expression, as if he’s peering into your soul, a sudden churn resides in your tummy. You absentmindedly pull your dress down just a tad, the material now clinging to your skin due to the sweat that built up under Namjoon’s gaze.

He strokes his chin, and you thank the Heavens for that sight because it definitely gets you going. His slender fingers grazing amongst his skin, veins popping while doing so. You can only imagine what they would feel like inside your-

“Off the record, I know what you want.” He blurts out, stilling his motions. You question him with a rise of your eyebrows. The coy smirk that appears on his lips has you boiling on the inside, your thighs rubbing together pathetically — to ease the ache within your core. What the hell is this man doing to you?

“Should it be too much for you, the safe word is velvet.”

He removes his glass and places them down on the coffee table separating you both. He proceeds to make his way toward you, eyeing you down as if you’re his prey. He unbuckles his belt and slips, “You’ll do as I say when I say it and not give any back talk. Understand?” Your mouth flies agape at his sudden change in demeanor — only adding fire to the fuel in your heat.

He tilts your chin up with his finger, “Don’t make me ask you twice.”

“Yes- Yes, Namjoon.” He slaps your face, at first in a gentle manner, your kitty throbs in response at the sudden action.

“It’s Sir to you.” You nod in reply, “Yes, S-sir.”

Namjoon sits in his favorite spot, unbuttoning his slacks. His hands snake behind the garment, running along his shaft under his briefs.

“Open your legs and play with yourself,” He demands. Before your brain could process what he requested, your body moved instead. You pry open your legs and Namjoon is instantly met with your aching cunt.

“You little slut,” He mulls with a followed growl, his cock twitching under his grip. “You came all the way here with no fucking panties?”

You nod at his question, bringing your fingers to your wet folds.

“So fucking filthy.” Namjoon pumps himself at the sight of you grazing along your clit. “I should fuck you until you can’t think anymore.”

“Please,” you whine, grinding your hips. You lick the pads of your fingers and rub your clit instinctively, a moan falling from your lips.

“Is that what you want?” He coos, precum seeping from the slit on the head of his cock. “You want me to fuck you silly? Make you cream all over my cock like the good, little bitch you are?”

Wanton moans now become uncontrollable for you, and you lose yourself in Namjoon’s sexy voice laced with lust, “Yes, Sir. P-please, fuck me. I need your cock.”

A low rumble emits from his chest, he runs his fingers through his strands that were glued to his forehead. He pushes his trousers and briefs down to his knees.

“Come here. Now.” He motions with his index finger, and you find yourself at his beck and call. Namjoon slides himself down further in his seat and gestures you over him.

“Sit on my face,” You do exactly as he says and hover over his face. He doesn’t hesitate to grip your hips and lodge his tongue inside of your hot heat. His nose nuzzles your clit in the process, soaking in the fragrance of your womanhood. He graciously fucks your hole with his tongue, then slithers along your inner folds. He sucks and tugs onto them between his plump lips, groaning into your cunt. You naturally grind your hips, following his motions.

“Oh, fuck.” You slip, while grazing your fingers within his strands. Namjoon’s fingers dig deeper onto your hips. He lays his tongue flat down to glide against your clit, your folds having been coated in his saliva. He peers up at you with those wide, sexy eyes, and the sudden shock of his palm smacking your ass jolts you forward — your grip landing on the leather seat. His moans continue to reverberate within your core, emitting a cry of euphoria from you. He wraps his plush lips around your nub and sucks feverishly. His nails graze along the flesh of your ass cheeks and…

Smack.

“Mmmm, Sir!” He shakes his head back and forth, and sucks your clit again — sending you into your second orgasm in the past week. Your thighs tremble and back arches slightly, your nails claw the leather of the seat and your hips grind along his tongue — an attempt to ride out your high. Namjoon lands another harsh smack onto your bottom, and you scream maybe just a little too loud for your liking, yet it’s music to his ears.

But, he doesn’t stop.

He continues his ministrations, and just as you try to break away from his steady pace, he constrains your hips with his large hands, locking you in place. He doesn’t let up on your now sensitive clit, and instead continues to slide his tongue all around and onto your bud. You shake your head in reply, the stimulation being too much but somehow there’s this burning ache that re-approaches, and you know there’s yet another orgasm approaching.

You push his head away, desperately wanting him to get his mouth off your aching pussy.

“P-please, Please.” You plead. But he grips onto you harder and shakes his head in a “no” gesture, his tongue gliding along your clit while doing so. His lips encase around your nub again and eagerly sucks the life out of you. Your legs shiver.

Namjoon mumbles within you, “Cum on my face, again.” His hand slaps your ass cheek again and again, sending you into your second orgasm that seems more powerful than the first. Your entire body convulses, eyes roll back, and you let out a screeching cry. He gently rubs the area he’d smacked before, and peels his mouth from you finally. He slaps your cheek again and demands, “On the couch. Now.”

You’re barely able to recover from your orgasm, and with shaky legs you set on your two feet to make your way over to the leather sofa. Joon follows behind and drops his trousers and briefs down to his ankles, kicking the garments to the side. Your met with the sight of his length, and you audibly gasp. He’s so thick, and your kitty clenches just by looking at him. His dick springs up, and you note the precum now dripping from his slit and down into a thin line.

“Come here,” He says while pushing your head onto his length. He stuffs his cock into your mouth, fucking your throat relentlessly. You grab onto his thick, juicy thighs to keep some leverage. The lewd noises of your throat being fucked can be heard through the office space. Namjoon’s breath hitches at the view of you stuffed with him entirely, his dick literally choking the life out of you. He lets out a grimacing chuckle, “Finally you can keep your mouth shut, huh? Let someone else take control, hm?” He bucks his hips forward, the veins in his arm protruding as his grip on your hair tightens, thrusting himself back and forth into your mouth.

His head falls back in ecstasy. Your nails graze along his bare thighs, begging for a release of air. And you assume that inspires him to torture you even more because before you could process what’s happening. He pinches your nose shut, to keep you from breathing, and holds himself at the back of your throat. You pound his thighs as a result.

“Look at me.” He commands, and with tears streaming down your cheeks, your gaze follows up to his hooded lids as you eagerly pound your fists onto his thighs and scratch the flesh. You’re convinced you are on the verge of passing out until he lets out the sexiest moan you’d ever heard in your life and that’s when his thighs tense up in your touch, his lower abdomen contracts, and bursts of warm cum shoot down your throat. You shut your eyes to focus on not passing out, but somehow with his added jizz, it doesn’t help. You continue to smack his thighs to signal you’re on your way to Heaven if he doesn’t let up. You feel his cock gradually easing out, and then he says…

“Fucking swallow.”

And so you do, managing to swallow every drop of him and finally he releases his throbbing member from your mouth. As soon as you are let free to breathe in some kind of air, you suck in a huge breath — followed by some coughs to gain your breathing back, and then an odd sensation within your head subsides. Once again, you can’t recover. Namjoon pulls you by your hair and shoves you toward the leather sofa.

“Bend down.” And you do exactly as you’re told, obeying him as if you’re a puppy and he’s your owner. Namjoon pumps himself and slaps your ass once you bend completely over, arching your back to push your bottom out more profoundly.

“Such a good slut.” He slaps your ass and you whimper at his harsh demeanor. Somehow you manage to wiggle your goods at him, wanting to know what that monster between his legs feel like, and your craving doesn’t go unnoticed. Namjoon tugs your hair, making you arch your back whilst he forces your entire form against his chest. His stiff length is pressed against your ass, and you find yourself grinding against him for just any type of friction to ease the level of horny that’s overcome your being.

“Look at you all needy for my cock. I don’t think you’re fucking ready for me, hm?” His hold on you grows tighter, and the sharp pain of him pulling your strands, mixed with his cock rutting against your behind, strangely makes your core twitch — a dire need of attention.

“Oh, but Sir! I am ready. Plea-” With that, Namjoon shoves you forward back into doggystyle. And when your back isn’t arched enough to his liking, he takes a big blow to your ass, prompting you to adjust your posture. You’re sure by the end of this so called “session” you’ll slip from his establishment sore and bruised. The tip of his cock nudges at your entrance, he runs himself along your dripping labia, making sure to smother himself in your wet. The rising heat in the pit of your core makes you anxious. You can’t remember the last time it had been when you’d had sex, and you supposed Namjoon knows this. You’re not even sure what all this means. How could you both look at each other the same after this is all done? Will he let you go after this? Maybe refer a different counselor? Or will this continue to be what his “sessions” are about? Or is this just a one time thing, and after today, everything will go back to normal? But how could that be possible?

Your on-going thoughts are put on a hold when a slight stretching-like burn approaches so sudden, and you’re left with a wide-opened mouth. Your nails scrape the material of the couch you have left to hold onto. Namjoon feels like nothing you’d ever felt before. He’s big, you know that. But holy hell does he feel different than he looks; it’s something you can’t explain. With toes curling, you call out his name as if he’s the only person left on the plant. What did you do to deserve this kind of dick? Your walls clamp eagerly around his shaft, sucking him in entirely — like a vacuum.

“Shit! It’s been that long, huh?” He admits, gritting his teeth at the sentiment of how tight you are. “He- Let this go?” He adds, while bottoming out completely. Pulling almost all the way out to slam right back into you — your body jerking forward in the process. “S-so fucking stupid. How- Mmmm.” Namjoon can’t contain himself; he pauses for a moment to collect his thoughts, trying beyond his limits to not blow his load into you so quickly.

“How could he let this go?” He pulls out and slams back into you again, this time with a harsh punch. He reaches for your hair, balling his fist into the strands, because for this time, he can’t just take it easy on you.

“More for me, then.” And that’s when you scream as if you’re being murdered — more like your vagina is. Namjoon begins a brutal pace, ramming into you and having no second thoughts about it.

“Oh! Unfgh, S-sir!” Your eyes shut instantly and face scrunches up in pleasure; you’d honestly never felt so high in your entire life. If you could be fucked like this at least once a week, you’d truly die happy.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been wanting to fuck you dumb?” He shoots with a hint of hostility. “I was relieved-” He punctuates with a harsh thrust, “To find out you both divorced… Wanted to fuck the shit out of you ever since you stepped foot into my office… Told me every fucked up thing he ever did to you.” You’re not even sure why but his confession has you smothering him in your juices. The fact he had a desire for you was hot, and you would be lying if you said you wouldn’t have fucked him the first time you had a session with him — that is, without your now ex-husband. Maybe Namjoon is right, maybe you are a slut. But who cares?

Namjoon releases his pull on your hair and pushes your head forward, you languidly fall onto the cushion and bury your face within it while he continues to bang out places in you that you never knew could be reached — his animalistic mannerisms are beyond your comprehension.

“Oh, yes!” You cry out, your figure shifting upwards from his vigorous pace. You nearly topple over at how hard he’s fucking you, and at this moment, you can’t fully think straight with him fucking you senselessly. The only sound you’re aware of is the slapping of his balls against your ass and his grunting here and there. You mumble a few incoherent words, and then a few slapping sounds follows. Your ass cheeks now burning with a hot passion.

“Look at you-” Namjoon grunts as he stills himself inside of you and twists your body around, leaving you to rest on your side. “Can’t even speak properly with my dick inside of you.”

Slap.

“Should clog this little pussy of yours up with my children.”

“Fucking come here,” He hauls you toward him to bring you closer, his cock sheathing itself fully inside of you. Not able to form proper words, your nails drag across his thigh and you wrap your leg around his waist, the heel of your foot digging into his bottom cheek. And just as you blinked, he wraps his hand around your throat and begins plunging his cock in and out of you repeatedly. You’re so close to cumming again, that you find some strength to ease your way between your legs and mindlessly rub your clit. Namjoon notes your actions and squeezes your throat harder.

“Yes! F-fuck!” You attempt to choke out; then Namjoon rams into that certain spot within you that has you seeing stars, and your orgasm floods your entire self that you’re shaking underneath him.

“Fuck yeah,” He coos while releasing your throat and slapping your face left and right. “He was so stupid, hm?” Your walls contracting around him has his cock twitching in a way that he knows is a warning of his impending orgasm. You clench so tightly around him, almost locking him in place, whilst creaming all over his shaft.

“Say it.” You whimper in reply, and he grips your face in place to keep you from squirming. “I want you to say how stupid your ex-husband was for leaving you. Say it now.” Your body continues to tremble and grow limp, yet you force the words from your mouth that even you surprised your own self.

“M-my ex-husband was stupid for leaving me, ahh!” Namjoon jams into you again, his thrusts now a much sloppier pace while his thumb reaches for your clit again, rubbing relentlessly. You wiggle around to somewhat ease your now sensitive, aching clit. But he doesn’t let you. He slaps your face again and pins your arms above your head, his body landing fully on top of yours. He licks the pads of his fingers to find your clit again, and you don’t think it’s possible to cum for the fourth time today, but you’re convinced Namjoon would prove otherwise.

“I want you to cum on my cock again.” He states, with a much softer tone this time, added with, “And tell me how much you’re worth having.” Another wave washes over you, granting his wish. Your chest heaves up and down in an attempt to fully gain your normal breathing pattern back. Your writhing body sends a shock of pleasure straight to his groin, and the need to cum is slowly advancing.

You cling onto Namjoon, and slip “I- am worth it. I-I’m worth having,” It’s as if your simple doing of following his command pushes him over the edge. But your added comment fuels him on even more.

“Cum inside of me, please. Make me full of your children.” With that, Namjoon shudders above you. His member pulses inside of you, streams of his cum color your insides. His lavender-stained strands glue themselves to his forehead, and it isn’t until now that you realize how wet your skin is, courtesy of the leather material below you.

Within the silence that subsides afterwards, aside from the melody of the both of you panting, Namjoon breaks the ice.

“You’re more than enough.”

[alia-turin]

Extra special kudos to @golden-olea, I hope I did it justice, if not, I’m so sorry. extra extra kudos to @challengeofthedark for keeping with my craziness and not crying every time I say Caranthir. 

Fic Name: Feed Your Anger Fandom: The Witcher (Aen Elle) Characters: Eredin, Caranthir, Avallac’h, Imlerith  Warning: Angst, violence AO3: Click Summary:   Couple of months after Caranthir joined the Red Riders, Eredin takes it upon himself to increase the rift between the navigator and Avallac'h by forcing them into a fight with each other. Caranthir is still young, trying to prove himself to Eredin and pull away from Avallac'h.

“Again.” Eredin said as he watched Caranthir take a deep breath and launch his next attack probably fully confident that this time he would break his opponent’s defence. The leader for the Red Riders parried without an issue. “Again.”

Their little sword sparring sessions had started a couple of months ago when Caranthir had passed his trial. The boy had amazing talent for magic, but he was terrible with swords. Truth be told, Eredin did not care much if Caranthir could use a sword or not, his job was not to be a swordsman, he was his Navigator, but there was certain discipline in swordsmanship and Eredin wanted to spend more time with the younger man.

“Again” Caranthir’s attack had been blocked and he could feel the frustration growing in him. He was good at everything he had ever tried. Sure, he had not tried that much from life, but he had no reason to believe that things would not work his way. However, their little training sessions had helped him grow closer to Eredin and that he appreciated. He was never going to admit that, but he admired the man. Probably the same way he had admiredAvallac’h as a child, but that was also something he would never admit. Eredin however did not treat him as a child, he did call him ‘boy’ and ‘kid’ occasionally, and that bothered Caranthir but not to the degree Avallac’h’s disapproving looks had bothered him. Still bothered him.

“Faster.” Eredin smiled after a very fast attempt from Caranthir. The boy was stubborn if nothing else. At first he had not cared about Avallac’h’s little experiment. Crevan had been convinced that his play with genetics and selective breeding would solve all of their problems. Eredin really wanted that to be true, but then he saw the failures, the navigators that were just decent, the ones that could barely make it and he had given up. Avallac’h had called Caranthir his Golden Child in front of Auberon, but all the leader of the Red Riders could do when he had heard that was to laugh. Until he saw Caranthir pass the trials. Nobody had done it faster than that, minus a minor wound on his shoulder, the boy had performed better than anyone. Eredin had been intrigued and Avallac’h had been disappointed which made it even sweeter.

Caranthir made a step back after another unsuccessful go at Eredin. The man had hundreds of years on him, but if they were using magic, the Navigator would have won by now. It was unusual for him to lose, even if it was just practice.

“Your eyes betray you, kid.” Imlerith was leaning against the nearby castle wall. For some reason unknown to Eredin, his general had taken interest in partially adopting Caranthir as a younger brother. Eredin did not mind. Imlerith was loyal and even if he was not the sharpest tool he had, there were certain qualities that the two of them could learn from each other. “By the time you attack, he has already read your move.”

Eredin was going to offer his own words of wisdom, something to send Caranthir in rage, that was another issue he had to deal with. The boy was impulsive, he needed him more controlled, more calculating. Imlerith was the blunt object that he used as his angry attack dog. Caranthir was too smart and too special to be used as a mindless tool of destruction. Eredin’s snarky comment never left his lips as he saw Crevan nearby watching them. The navigator had already seen the Sage as his focus was no longer on Eredin, but on his old mentor.

Caranthir could see the disapproval in his teacher’s eyes. He was not sure if it was the sword or just the company he was keeping, didn’t really matter. He was done with trying to please Avallac’h although he did wonder what he made out of his little training with Eredin. He couldn’t fight the feeling that despite everything Avallac’h was the closest he had to a family and so far he also had been the greatest betrayal he had ever felt. But he had a new family now and he was not going to allow anyone to hurt him the way Avallac’h had. Never again.

There had been something interesting and very annoying that was happening between the two of them when they saw each other. Caranthir’s whole body language changed and his eyes burned with fire that Eredin didn’t see even during a battle. On the other hand Avallac’h looked hurt. It had taken the leader of the Red Riders some time to figure out what was going on there, but after spending some time with Caranthir, he had solved the puzzle. The boy never had anyone but Avallac’h, no friends, no family, nothing. Eredin would probably shove his sword in his own throat if Crevan was his only option for socialization, but Caranthir did not really have a choice. He wanted the man’s approval as much as he wanted to prove to him that he was better and did not need him. Avallac’h was a bit harder to figure out, but one thing Eredin knew for certain was that he wanted the rift between these two to grow even wider.

“Crevan, why don’t you join us?” Eredin stuck the tip of his sword in the ground and leaned forward.

Avallac’h did not respond but his gaze looked from Eredin to Caranthir and then back to Eredin.

“I am rather curious to know who is better, the father or the son.” Eredin smirked. Avallac’h shifted his weight between his feet and Caranthir took a very deep breath loudly.

“My money is on the son.” Imlerith had pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against, his hands were also resting on his mace. Caranthir’s money was also on himself, he was better, he had known that for some time now and he was eager to show it especially in front of Eredin. Hurting Avallac’h the way he was hurting would just be a welcomed bonus.

“You will remain curious.” Avallac’h said and started walking away, but Eredin’s words stopped him.

“I truly don’t understand why you are so upset. He was meant to be a navigator, one of the Red Riders, his place was always supposed to be here with me.” Eredin spoke casually, he was just stating a well-known fact, something that had been clear since before Caranthir was born. Avallac’h had been determined to keep this fact from becoming a reality, it had been years since he had decided the boy would not become another tool for Eredin. Caranthir had made his choice, and Avallac’h had failed.

Caranthir watched as his mentor took a deep breath and his jaw clenched. He had seen that reaction before, every time he messed up, every time he did something Avallac’h disapproved of and usually there was some sort of punishment involved. Eredin was taunting his teacher, he had no idea why, but he could see the words were starting to have some effect.

“Then I wish both of you all the best.” Avallac’h managed to shake off whatever had taken over him and tried to walk away but Eredin had not finished. He spoke once again..

“Crevan. I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sure it was not easy to separate with your life’s work, you raised the kid after all. That must have been painful. Almost as painful as being left by Lara.” Eredin knew that would sting and he was not wrong. This time Avallac’h turned toward him with so much hate in his eyes, the leader of the Red Riders almost started laughing. That was easier than he thought. “I thought a lot about why are you so upset that the boy joined the Red Riders.” he really didn’t, he had paid no mind to it, but he had Avallac’h where he wanted him, Eredin had already stuck the knife and now it was time to twist. “I mean sure you were trying to recreate Lara’s genes, but did you perhaps hope for something more? Recreate Lara herself? Looking closely enough I can almost see some of her looks in him.. How much must it hurt you, Avallac’h, knowing that the woman you loved left you for a human and Caranthir left you for me. I always thought it was Lara, simply being attracted to something more...exotic. Pleasures of the flesh or curiosity. It is, after all, hard to believe anyone would prefer a human to one of us.” Eredin turned toward Caranthir, the boy’s expression was blank but he could see the clenched jaw and the ice cold eyes fixed on Avallac’h. “But maybe it is just you.” Eredin turned toward the sage with the best smirk he could muster. “Maybe Lara was just trying to run away from you, the poor woman. Looking at what you have done to the boy, who wouldn’t?”

Caranthir watched Avallac’h’s resistance dropping. The usual calmness and control on his face had just broken and he could see the man boiling from the inside with rage, he had never seen his mentor like that. He remembered as a child he had seen a picture of Lara and he had asked about her, Avallac’h had snapped at him. Caranthir had learned the story in his own way, but he had never mentioned the name. Was Eredin right? Was it even worse than he thought? He wasn’t just an experiment, Avallac’h monster, but he was an attempt for his teacher to recreate an old painful memory? Caranthir ran his fingers through the scars on his neck, they were not physically painful, but something in his head was burning with different sorts of hurt.

“How much of that did he tell you? You know about Lara?” Eredin asked, looking at Caranthir. From the way the young navigator glared at Avallac’h, he could only assume not much at all. Not really surprising. Avallac’h was not a liar, but he also wasn’t a forthcoming man, especially about things that were painful to him. Eredin continued glaring at the Sage “You never cared about the boy, did you, Crevan? That’s fine, he has nowfound friends, someone who does not see him just as a tool.” he saw Caranthir’s jaw clench and he could swear he heard him grind his teeth. “It has always been about you and you alone. Your ambitions, your power, your influence.” He looked Avallac’h in the eye...he was going to enjoy what followed... “Honestly, who can blame Lara?” he spoke the last sentence slowly making sure every word was like another knife stuck in his chest.

The Sage made a step forward, honestly Eredin didn’t feel like the man wanted to attack him, although his body language had changed drastically from the usual calm and controlled deminior. Caranthir however had been itching to launch at Avallac’h and just a small movement from him was enough.

The Navigator took a second to get to his staff and in the next moment he was right in front of his mentor.

“Caranthir…” whatever Avallac’h was about to say was interrupted by an attack he had to deflect. Then another one and another one.

Eredin had found that watching mages fight was somehow impressive and boring at the same time. The power was extraordinary and breathtaking, but he always preferred to look his enemy in the eye as he shoved his sword in their gut or separated their head from their body.

Caranthir moved with impressive speed and his mentor had only been deflecting until the boy sent him flying against a nearby wall.

Avallac’h got up and touched the back of his head as if looking for blood. “Caranthir, stop.” His voice was clipped.

“He is not yours to command, Crevan.” Eredin shouted, trying his best to hide his excitement. “He is his own man. What have you done to him, to be hated so much?”

Caranthir attacked again and Avallac’h blocked, but this time the man followed with an attack and the Navigator was forced to defend himself. Avallac’h had not wanted to do that, he was angry at Eredin, and while he was not sure whether he would have attacked the leader of the Red Riders or found some self control, at this point it didn’t matter. He wasn’t angry at Caranthir, but if it was a fight he wanted, he was going to give him one. There were enough unresolved issues between them that would certainly not be solved with a few bruises, but then again, he did not know if at this point there was any way to solve them at all. But perhaps this fight was what they needed, Caranthir in particular. Perhaps the boy would reconsider his actions.... Another attack followed, more dangerous and then another one, the Navigator was serious, he was not just trying to resolve whatever tension was between them. That was when he realized Caranthir was not just trying to protect Eredin--not that he needed protection in the first place - he was trying to kill Avallac’h. The way he attacked, the rage and the power were more than he had seen him ever use.

Eredin was enjoying that far too much, he could see Caranthir’s youth and impulsiveness playing against him, whereas Avallac’h’s fighting style was controlled and very measured, in spite of his anger. Caranthir, however, was like a storm. Powerful, capable of destruction that could solve many problems in a matter of moments and create others equally fast. True, the navigator was more powerful than even Eredin had anticipated at first, but he was inexperienced. It didn’t matter though, he had figured that on day one and he was going to correct it, he just needed a bit of time. Teaching violence was something he knew how to do.

It was Caranthir’s turn to find himself on the ground, but Avallac’h was beyond words now. He was about to attack again when Eredin moved between the two of them.

“That’s enough.” He placed a hand on Avallac’h chest and the man looked at him with a murderous glare. “As much as I would enjoy watching that, you two will destroy the castle.” He pointed around them, stone had been cracked and the ground had some newfound holes that had not been there before. Avallac’h snapped out of it but Caranthir was not done. The boy jumped on his feet and moved toward his mentor but Eredin turned around quickly and blocked the navigator’s body with his own. “His day will come, and when that happens, I promise you, he will suffer more than anything you can inflict on him now.” Eredin was leaning forward and whispering in Caranthir’s ear.

“I can inflict a lot.” Caranthir had not felt so much anger since he found Avallac’h lab and all his notes. His rage needed an outlet and killing his teacher seemed like an excellent choice.

“No, you want him to suffer, you don’t want him to hurt. You want him to suffer the way you do.” Eredin stepped back and moved away the strands of hair that were covering Caranthir’s scars. The navigator snapped out of it and stepped back, not wanting his scars to be shown.

“Come on, kid.” Imlerith placed a hand on Caranthir’s shoulder. “Leave the grown ups to talk.”

Eredin watched as the Navigator was almost dragged away and then turned to Avallac’h. The man’s demeanor had changed, he was calm now, but there was still fire in his eyes.

“I hope you got what you wanted.” Crevan said as he cleared some dust from his robes. “I should have known better.”

“You should have.” Eredin chuckled.

Avallac’h walked away, he already had one fight, he was not following Eredin’s play again today. He was still angry, mostly at himself, he should have not fallen for that trap and it had been obviously a trap. Now he was seeing it, Eredin was trying to create a rift between Caranthir and him, not that this relationship needed Eredin’s help to be destroyed. Somewhere deep down Avallac’h wished things were different. Maybe he even hoped that one day once Caranthir matured the two of them could talk and he could explain. But based on the storm he had seen in Caranthir’s eyes, he doubted this day would come any time soon.

[flipomatic]

Just Out of Reach

Author Note: This is my first fic for this fandom and for this ship, so I’m working on getting a feel for these characters. This fic references the events of the valentines day event and the white day area conversation between Aoi and Tsubaki.

Summary: Tsubaki just watched as the pair stopped. The woman pulled a piece of folded paper out of her bag, it looked to be an envelope of some kind, and presented it to Aoi with both hands. Even from this distance, Tsubaki could see that Aoi’s face had flushed scarlet.

So that’s what this was, a love confession.

Tsubaki’s stomach churned as Aoi reached forward and, with hands wearing the gloves Tsubaki had given her, accepted the envelope.

Word Count: 2200

___________________________________________________________

As Tsubaki stepped out of the building, the cold air pricked at her skin. Though it was late March, there were still some colder days. Today was one of those days. Tsubaki tightened her muffler around her neck, the one Aoi had given her just over a week earlier. Just remembering their exchange warmed her cheeks.

Behind her, the rest of her unit was leaving as well. They had met today to work on a new song, which they were set to start performing next week. They practiced at the club while it was closed, since their performances were on that stage. After rehearsing, they decided to go to the café to have an afternoon snack and talk about the new song.

Hiiro was dressed for the weather, with a stylish grey coat that reached her knees. It was almost too warm for such a heavy coat, but Hiiro didn’t seem to mind. Nagisa was her exact opposite, insisting that it was spring so she didn’t need a jacket. Instead, her arms were exposed by a short-sleeved t-shirt. Every time the wind blew past, she shivered slightly. She clutched her guitar tightly in her right hand since she didn’t leave it at the venue.

Aoi was balanced somewhere between them. She wore her usual open black jacket, with gloves to cope with the cold. They were the gloves Tsubaki had given her; seeing them almost made Tsubaki blush even harder.

The café was only a few blocks away, so they set off to walk together. Nagisa took the lead with a bounce in her step, likely to fight off the cold. Hiiro walked only half a step behind her, with Tsubaki and Aoi side by side in the rear. They passed a group of young women as they left the vicinity of the club.

“I’m absolutely starving!” Nagisa exclaimed, rubbing her free hand dramatically against her stomach.

Hiiro chuckled, “What are you going to eat?”

“Hmm…” Nagisa turned towards her, her hand now lifted to her chin as she thought. “Pancakes sound really good right now. A huge stack of them!”

“Didn’t you have lunch?” Tsubaki chimed in, wondering for perhaps the twentieth time how Nagisa could possibly eat so much. She was even shorter than Tsubaki.

“Of course.” Nagisa replied simply. “Or I’d definitely pass out.”

Aoi laughed, a sound that always sent Tsubaki’s heart racing. “We wouldn’t want that.”

Nagisa spun around to walk backward while she talked to them, launching into a story about a time when that had happened. It was when she was younger and forgot to bring a lunch to school. Nagisa was still telling the story, which was growing more animated by the second, when an unknown voice interrupted her.

“E-excuse me.” The voice, quiet and timid, came from behind them. Tsubaki stopped to look, as did the rest of the unit. A young woman was standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Tsubaki recognized her as one of the girls they walked by a couple minutes ago. Long black hair covered part of her face, which was bright red. Her eyes were pointed down at the ground. “M-Miyake-san, do you have a minute to talk… in private?” She seemed to have trouble finding the right words.

Tsubaki wondered what this was about. She knew Aoi had a lot of fans, perhaps she wanted an autograph. That didn’t explain the clear embarrassment though. Tsubaki glanced over at Aoi, whose eyes were wide with surprise.

“I… If that’s alright with you?” Aoi looked between her unit members, stopping on Tsubaki last. Tsubaki tried to read her gaze, but wasn’t sure what she saw.

The darker part of Tsubaki’s heart, the part that growled when another girl so much as looked at Aoi, wanted to say no. She was with her unit right now, not free to talk. But no, Tsubaki knew that wasn’t right.

“We’ll wait here for you.” Tsubaki replied, trying to sound nonchalant about it. The way that Nagisa raised an eyebrow at her told her she had failed.

“Go ahead, we’re not in a hurry.” Hiiro insisted, gesturing towards the girl.

Aoi’s expression was still unreadable. “Thank you.” The side of her mouth lifted into a smile as she turned back to the girl. “After you.”

Tsubaki watched in silence as the two walked away. They went all the way down the sidewalk, where the other Rondo members wouldn’t be able to eavesdrop.

“Damn, I wanted to listen in.” Nagisa had one hand cupped around her ear.

Hiiro shook her head with a wry smile. “Aoi-kun will spot us if we move.”

Tsubaki just watched as the pair stopped. The woman pulled a piece of folded paper out of her bag, it looked to be an envelope of some kind, and presented it to Aoi with both hands. Even from this distance, Tsubaki could see that Aoi’s face had flushed scarlet.

So that’s what this was, a love confession.

Tsubaki’s stomach churned as Aoi reached forward and, with hands wearing the gloves Tsubaki had given her, accepted the envelope.

It wasn’t like Tsubaki didn’t know that Aoi was popular, or that a lot of people were interested in her. She knew all of that; she remembered the mountain of chocolate Aoi received for valentines day and the hordes of screaming fans.

That didn’t stop Tsubaki from feeling jealous, from wanting Aoi to pay attention to only her. She wanted to storm over there, tear that letter from Aoi’s grasp, and declare that she was hers.

Tsubaki wouldn’t do that, she couldn’t do that. Aoi wasn’t hers, no matter how badly she wanted her to be. She could only hope that Aoi returned her feelings, but Tsubaki was under no illusion that she did.

In the distance, Aoi opened the letter and started to read it.

Tsubaki couldn’t watch anymore. Even though she said it was alright, she couldn’t subject herself to this. She felt a surge of pain in her heart as she turned away, back in the direction they’d been walking. “Actually, I’ll pass on the café.” She said, causing both Hiiro and Nagisa to look at her instead of in the distance.

“Tsubaki?” Hiiro phrased her name as a question, asking so much without asking anything at all.

“I’ll see you around.” Tsubaki started walking away, not looking back even as Nagisa called out to her. Aoi was probably going to leave with that girl anyway, to cancel on the unit’s plans. Tsubaki told herself it was better like this.

She would go home. At home, she’d be alone. There was a pain in that, but also solace. She wouldn’t have to watch Aoi accept someone else’s love, wouldn’t have to be reminded about how she wasn’t enough.

___________________________________________________________

“I like you!” The young woman, who said her name was Nana, leaned forward and held an envelope out with both hands. “Please accept this!” There was a heart drawn on one side.

Aoi could hardly believe what was happening. First Nana had stopped her unit and asked to speak with her, now she was confessing her love. It felt surreal. Her face was hot, unbearably so; she felt like she was in shock. She had received confessions before, but she never felt ready for them.

Aoi slowly took the offered paper, opening the envelope carefully so she wouldn’t tear it. Inside was a single piece of folded paper. It contained a few paragraphs of text, which Aoi read quickly. They explained that Nana loved watching Aoi perform, heard she liked homemade food, and offered to cook for her. It finished with the confession Nana had just made.

Once she finished it, Aoi looked back up at Nana. She still looked nervous, as she had since the moment she approached the group. Both of her hands were clenched together in front of her body.

Aoi searched for the words to respond to her. She was cute, but Aoi didn’t really know her. It was great that she was a fan, but Aoi wasn’t prepared to return her feelings. There were other reasons too, Aoi thought as she looked at her gloves. The gloves Tsubaki gave her, which were a precious gift, a precious reminder.

Nana had her eyes locked on Aoi’s face, and she swallowed hard before speaking again. “Will you go out with me?” She asked an actual question now, one Aoi had to respond to.

Even though Aoi was certain in her answer, she still felt bad saying it. She didn’t like hurting others. “I’m sorry.” She offered the letter back to Nana, who immediately frowned. “I can’t return your feelings.”

Nana took the paper back gingerly, tears now welling up in the corner of her eyes. Aoi’s heart panged. “I understand…” She took a half step back and bowed forward, hiding her face. “Goodbye.” She turned quickly and walked away, back towards where her friends were likely waiting.

Aoi watched her for a few moments, before turning back to Rondo. Immediately, she noticed that something was wrong. The whole unit had been there before, but now she only saw Hiiro and Nagisa. Did Tsubaki go ahead without them?

The confession was already fading from Aoi’s mind as she hurried back to the group. “Sorry for the delay.” She said as she reached them. “Where’s Tsubaki?” She was worried, what if something bad had happened?

“She decided to go home.” Hiiro replied in a light tone that didn’t match the message.

That didn’t make sense; they were supposed to all go to the café together. “Huh? What do you mean?” Aoi furrowed her eyebrows together.

“She left, split, said farewell.” Nagisa counted off up to three on her fingers as she listed them. “Didn’t say why, probably cuz we got delayed.” She shrugged.

Aoi’s heart, which had already been in pain earlier, felt even worse now. It was her fault that Tsubaki left, that she wasn’t going to be with Rondo at the café. If they had just kept walking, then she would still be there.

“You could still catch her.” Hiiro pointed down the sidewalk, in the direction Tsubaki must’ve gone in. “She turned left two streets down.”

Yes, Aoi wanted to do just that. She quickly said, “Thanks!” and took off down the street at an accelerated walk.

“We’ll meet you there!” Nagisa’s voice echoed behind her.

As Aoi made the left turn, she recognized that she was now going towards Tsubaki’s house, which meant she really was headed towards home.

Aoi knew how to get there and what route Tsubaki would take.

Even as she walked quickly down the sidewalk, she wondered if she should turn back. It wasn’t like they couldn’t get a snack or talk about the song without Tsubaki, Aoi knew that they could. She also knew that she wanted Tsubaki to be there. It wasn’t Rondo without her, Aoi’s heart wouldn’t be complete without her.

There was a chance she’d say no, that she wouldn’t appreciate Aoi coming after her like this. That was a risk Aoi was willing to take. She’d been chasing after Tsubaki for so long; it wasn’t time to stop now.

After just a few minutes of walking, she saw a familiar sight in the distance. The muffler, the one Aoi had given to Tsubaki, was visible around her neck even at a long distance. Every time Tsubaki wore it, Aoi felt warm inside. She hoped it was keeping Tsubaki warm too.

“Tsubaki!” Aoi called out her name as she got closer, causing Tsubaki to spin around with wide eyes. She looked completely shocked to see Aoi behind her, following her. In the afternoon sunlight, she was stunning.

“Aoi?” She said in a confused tone. She took a small step towards Aoi as her eyes flicked from Aoi’s face down to her hands, and then back up.

“Please come to the café.” Aoi felt slightly out of breath, from practically jogging the last stretch. Her cheeks must’ve been flushed from exertion.

“Aren’t you busy now?” Tsubaki’s voice sounded strained, rougher than usual.

Aoi shook her head. “Just with my unit.” She said, reaching towards Tsubaki with one hand. “Please come, it wouldn’t be the same without you. I want you to be there.”

Tsubaki’s eyes widened even more, before tears welled up in the corner of them. Aoi hoped she hadn’t made a mistake, hadn’t stepped right over Tsubaki’s boundaries and was about to be rejected.

“I will.” Tsubaki wiped the corner of her eyes as she nodded.

A wave of relief rushed through Aoi’s chest. “Let’s go then.” They turned to go back the way they came, since the café was actually closer to the venue than where they were now.

Again Aoi and Tsubaki walked side by side, as they had done earlier.

Aoi stole a glance at Tsubaki as they walked, wondering what she was thinking. As she looked at the muffler around her neck, she wondered if Tsubaki knew how much she cared for her.

She wasn’t ready to take another step yet, but she hoped Tsubaki felt the same way.

[walkerismychoice]

All I Need to Know for Now (Raleigh X MC)

Book: Platinum

Pairing: Raleigh X MC (Aria Campbell, Minor Avery X MC)

Rating: NSFW/18+

Note: Given my previous fics and head canons about Raleigh and Aria’s relationship, I wasn’t quite satisfied with the MC’s happy-go-lucky reactions to Raleigh’s antics this last chapter and wanted to add in more about their love triangle. I re-wrote the relevant parts of chapter 13 from this perspective. Some of the dialogue is transcribed from the chapter, but much is new or changed. I also changed up the sex scene some for fun and omitted much of the chapter that didn’t need re-writing to fit my version of the story.

Word Count: 2932

Aria doesn't know what to do with herself. Yes, she'd had a moment and acted completely insane, butting into Jaylen's performance of her song, but it's not like it's out of the ordinary for celebrities to snap and get even more popular for it. Seems she's just famous enough for people to care, but not quite famous enough to be able to get away with it. Bad girl pop star apparently doesn't look good on her.

So now she's stuck at home with nothing to do. It would be the perfect opportunity to write new songs, or finish some old ones, but every time she tries, she's got nothing. The stress of wondering if her career is over as quickly as it began is taking a toll, and she's adrift in small town no-man's land with no purpose or direction. So when her doorbell rings unexpectedly, she's not sure if it will he more bad news or a welcome distraction.

"Alright, Aria, have you missed me?"

"Oh my god, Avery! I can't believe you're here!" Saying she's surprised would be an understatement. She feels the urge to pinch herself to make sure this isn't another dream that will venture into nightmare territory.

"Hope you don't mind that I stopped by, but I redirected my flight on the way to the Indio music festival. And I brought a few friends..."

“Hey, kid. Long time, no see.” Hank stands behind Avery, in his typical working stance, arms folded with his aviator sunglasses on. 

Next to him is Zadie, as stylish as ever and way overdressed for Aria’s neck of the woods. “You know, I thought you were exaggerating every time you said how boring your hometown was, but now I see the reports are accurate.”

Aria chuckles because Zadie isn’t wrong, but then she sees him step out from behind the group and her stomach flip flops with a feeling she can’t quite place.

“Hey, Aria. Are you gonna let us in or...” Raleigh asks coolly in his typical ‘I don’t give a fuck if you do or you don’t’ tone, but the smile on his face suggests he’s happy to see her.

“I’ve missed you all so much!” Aria exclaims, and she has, she really has. But she’s also overwhelmed by this impromptu visit, and her time away from Raleigh and Avery has done nothing to clear up her indecision about the two. They’d both sent her a couple of texts but they were fairly brief. Avery hand been supportive as expected, and Raleigh was... Raleigh. He’d worked out another PR relationship to take the media focus off of Aria, or so he said. There were plenty of other ways to do that, like, oh, for example, destroying millions of dollars worth of artwork which he also did do. She’s not sure which is worse or if she has the energy to put up with his antics, even if they are just for show. 

Aria glances between Avery and Raleigh. She’s drawn to Raleigh despite it all, for reasons beyond her comprehension, this physical compulsion begging her to jump into his arms. But then there’s Avery - sweet, dependable, supportive Avery -  looking at her with such adoration and longing it just feels right. She flings her arms around Avery’s shoulders, kissing him slow and deep. She can’t see Raleigh’s face but she can almost feel the heat of his glare, or at least that’s what she imagines the feeling to be. Avery’s hands find her waist, and he sighs into her mouth, Aria reflexively pressing closer to him. She feels him smile against her lips, and for a moment, she’s completely lost in him.

Aria pulls back, blushing fiercely. “Well come in!” She offers without making eye contact with anyone or waiting for a response. She needs to get a hold of herself before this gets even more awkward. 

But then it does get more awkward when Avery spots the poster of him on her wall, and Aria’s kicking herself for not taking it down in all this time she’s been home. Raleigh jokes about there being no poster of him, but if Aria’s not mistaken, there’s more than just a hint of jealousy there. As mortified as she is, she can’t help but find satisfaction in Raleigh’s reaction.

~~~ 

The gang has been in Avery’s limo traveling to some unknown destination for almost half an hour now, departing shortly after dropping off Aria’s fan mail and filling her in on Ellis buying Jaylen’s label. Apparently he’d felt so bad about selling the song, when he couldn’t buy it back he bought the whole damn thing.  It doesn’t change the fact that it’s still not Aria’s to sing, but maybe this will make things better in the long run. 

The limo pulls up outside a gorgeous lake home - an Airbnb rental Aria presumes - but Avery immediately informs her otherwise. “Ladies, gentlemen, friends, welcome to my humble summer home.”

“It has a state of the art security system too!” Hank assesses. “I’m going to enjoy it here.” Leave it to Hank to notice that first over all the breathtaking scenery.

“How long have you had this?” Aria questions, stunned that Avery would own property so close to her hometown. 

“Since this morning,” Avery answers with a sly grin. “I just bought it.”

Aria is speechless. Avery bought a lake house just to have a place to go to cheer her up. Compare that with Raleigh getting a fake girlfriend and creating property damage to smooth things over, and one of them is the clear winner as far as Aria is concerned. Not that this is a competition or anything.

“Alright, enough talking, more getting in the water,” Raleigh chimes in, not allowing Aria to dwell on it much longer.

Not having known where they were going, Aria hadn’t packed a bathing suit, but of course Zadie has her covered. The skimpy white suit isn’t the most practical for water sports, but at least judging from Avery and Raleigh’s reactions, she looks amazing in it.  

They race on the Jet Ski’s and hang around the dock for sometime before boarding a rented sailboat with drinks in hand. This day is shaping up to be just what she needed. As they approach the center of the lake, Avery proposes an underwater breath-holding competition, which ends up being between himself, Raleigh an Aria. Aria just hopes neither of them pass out trying to be the better man.

Aria’s uses her breath control techniques to oxygenate herself as much as possible before dipping below the surface. She’s not sure how much time has passed, but all three of them are starting to squirm. Avery’s the first to give up, heading to the surface for air. Raleigh floats closer, eyes locked on her as an intimidation tactic she presumes, until he suddenly closes the distance between them and firmly plants his lips on hers. As he grabs her hips and presses his body against hers, she can’t help but kiss him back - a kiss that literally takes her breath away to the extent she has to give up and emerges above the water line just before Raleigh does.

“You did that on purpose just to get me to lose!” Aria splashes Raleigh playfully.

Raleigh winks at her. “It didn’t seem like you minded."

Avery swims over, a look of questioning and concern on his face, like he suspects a hint of what went on but doesn’t want to know. He gives Aria’s hand a squeeze and then cradles her in his arms as they bob in the water. “At least you beat me,” he offers as consolation, bringing his lips to hers for a fervent kiss. It’s nice, but after just kissing Raleigh, it’s lacking. It feels strange having Avery’s lips where his just were, and she's thankful for the water washing any trace of him away. Avery helps Aria back onto the boat and hands her a towel to dry off. “I hope you got the release you wanted today.”

On the one hand, yes, she’s happier than she has been in quite a while. On the other, she’s more wound up than ever. “I did. Thanks so much for coming out all this way to visit me.”

Avery smiles softly and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Of course, Cadence. We’ll always be there for you.”

“Alright, less conspiratorial whispering, more water sports!” Raleigh proclaims as he climbs back into the boat, his timing impeccable once again.

~~~

Everyone gathers around the fire after dinner and a long day in the sun. They talk, laugh, eat smores, and when Raleigh picks up the guitar and starts to play, it turns into an impromptu singalong, with Aria, Avery, and Raleigh harmonizing beautifully. With no expectations or weight on her shoulders, it feels good, really good, to be singing again. But when Raleigh hands her the guitar to play, the wounds are still too fresh. Fortunately her friends are understanding and they don’t push the issue, knowing she’ll get there when she’s ready. 

Before long, the others begin to head inside. “I suppose it’s time for me turn in as well.” Avery announces, nodding his head at Aria as he rises. You coming?”

She can’t tell if there’s any sort of expectation in the invitation, but whatever the case, she’s not going inside until she can have a proper discussion with Raleigh. "In a bit. I just need more time to...think.”

Avery’s face falls just a little, recovering with a weak smile. “Alright, Darling. Let me know if you need anything.” A silent moment passes as gentle waves lap against the shore, moonlight dancing off the rolling water.

As soon as Avery is out of earshot, Raleigh scoffs and shakes his head. “Darling? He never gives up the prince charming act does he?”

Aria shrugs. “Maybe you’d be wise to take a few lessons from his playbook.”

Raleigh’s eyes narrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well...I hear you’ve been getting into a lot of trouble in my absence.”

“What can I say? The town’s boring without you.”

“Ugh, is everything just a game to you? You may think it’s funny to destroy property and disrespect people as part of your bad boy image, but I don’t. It’s time you fucking grew up.” Aria pushes up from her Adirondack chair, already over this conversation.

“Wait!” Raleigh tugs on her hand. “Please sit back down, and I’ll explain.” Aria rolls her eyes but sits back in the chair. “I felt awful when you were sent home. If I’d have done what you did, I’d probably end up with a slap on the wrist and more fans and album sales than before. It wasn’t fair, and I hated the negative attention you were getting, so I thought, hey, I’m basically untouchable, why not create some headlines myself to take the focus off you?”

“And that’s the best idea you had? Why not make headlines for doing something positive instead of being destructive?” 

Raleigh scoots forward, placing his hand on her knee. “You know the good doesn’t get nearly as much press as the bad. Look, I’m not Avery. I’m not the type to ride into town in my white limousine and save the day by buying a beach palace to keep you in.

“I’m not asking you to be prince charming, or a knight in shining armor, or... whatever. I just...” Aria struggles to put it into words. She’s not asking for a savior or a lifelong commitment, she just needs to know that she means something to him before she falls too deep and ends up with a broken heart.

“Aria, No matter the means, what I did, I did for you, because I care about you...and it worked. Between the property damage and my new fake relationship, your incident with Jaylen is old news.”

“Well if that relationship is as fake as ours was, I’m still not feeling very reassured right now.”

Raleigh cocks his head to the side with a smirk. “Are you jealous, Campbell?” Aria doesn’t respond but serves him an icy glare. “Aww, babe, come here.” He pats his leg and holds his arms open wide.

She’s still mad and doesn’t want to give in, but him calling her babe again makes her weak. She sighs deeply before getting up and settling into his lap. “You’re still on thin ice, Carrera.”

“Aria, you have nothing to worry about. She doesn’t hold a candle to you. She’s just doing us a favor. I’ve missed you.” Raleigh traces tingly patterns up and down her thighs, goosebumps forming under his touch.

Aria peers into his eyes, biting her lower lip. “Okay, you can kiss me now.”

Raleigh chuckles. "You've gotten bossy in your time away, huh?"

"Maybe....But you like it."

Raleigh threads his fingers through her hair, pulling her mouth to his, kissing her seductively, tongue gliding over her lips. “I’ve been thinking about this all day, Aria. All the things I wanted to do when I got you alone...”

She feels him harden beneath her as she plants another kiss on his lips. Now with the air cleared between them, she won't deny she's been thinking the same. Aria sinks to her knees and looks up at him through her lashes as she unbuckles his pants. "Well, you know what I've been wanting to do to you?"

"What's that?" Raleigh asks with a knowing smile as he lifts his hips to help her undress his bottom half.

Aria wraps her hand around the base of his cock and swirls her tongue around the tip making him twitch. "I want to make you feel good," she purrs, Raleigh letting out a groan as she takes him in her mouth slow and deep. Maybe she hasn't been thinking about this all day. But ever since he kissed her and she caught a glimpse of the outline of his hard length through the swim trunks clinging to his legs as he emerged from the water, it's been difficult to think of anything else.

"Fuck, Aria. This is better than good. You are incredible," he breathes, hands fisting in her hair, guiding her up and down his shaft. She cups his balls, taking him in as deep as she can go until he pushes her away. "Come up here before I explode."

Aria wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and climbs into his lap, straddling his hips. "What now?"

"I want you so bad Aria. Now we both get to feel good." Raleigh lifts Aria's sundress over her head and his eyes go wide. "You aren't wearing anything underneath!"

"Oops! Did I forget to put on underwear?" Aria feigns innocence.

Raleigh shakes his head. "You're lucky I didn't know that earlier." Without further warning he thrusts up inside her, Aria gasping as he hits her sweet spot and then pauses for confirmation. "You, good?"

Aria grins. "I'm fucking fantastic." She sinks down deep and rolls her hips, grinding her clit on him as he fills her completely

They move together, their steady rhythm gradually picking up pace. Raleigh plays with her breasts - licking, sucking, rolling her nipples between his fingers and thumbs, sending sensations of pleasure straight to her core and fanning the flames of the fire inside her. She knows she's close so she moves faster, grinds down harder as her moans get louder. "Raleigh, I-"

"Whats that? You want me to stop?" He teases.

"Don't you fucking dare," she warns with a laugh.

"And deny the chance to make you come? Never. I want to hear you scream my name," Raleigh commands, grabbing her ass and pushing in deeper with each thrust.

She closes her eyes and throws her head back, seeing fireworks behind her eyes as her entire body ignites. "Oh my god, yes, Raleigh!" She cries out into the night as her walls tremble around him.

Aria buries her head in his neck, and Raleigh picks up her slack, bouncing her her up and down his hard length. And then he lets out a strangled moan, his whole body shuddering as he finds his release.

Raleigh pulls her against his chest as they both come down from their high. "You are full of surprises, Aria." 

“I gotta keep up with you somehow.” Aria kisses him sweetly one more time. She shivers and Raleigh grabs the beach blanket from the ground, shakes it off and throws it over both of them. She closes her eyes, not even realizing she’s drifted off until she opens her eyes again and sees how much the fire has died down.

Raleigh throws some kindling on the fire with his free hand and smiles down at her. “Hey, beautiful.”

She's feeling vulnerable yet open in his arms. No more fooling around, no more games. It's him she wants and he needs to know. "Raleigh, I'm glad you're here. I missed you so much these past few days. It's like I got jolted into an alternate reality you weren't in."

“I.. I missed you, too.” His expression grows somber, serious for once before his smile is back again. “But you don’t have to worry about that now. We’re here now, together.” He strokes her arm tenderly as he holds her close, pressing his soft, warm lips to her forehead.

It’s not a promise of any certain future, but Aria can’t say what tomorrow will bring. Knowing he’s all-in in this moment is good enough... for now.

[anonbaph]

This is my Secret Santa for Rowan @lithuanias​ for @yoisecretsanta18​ !! [if I didn’t messed the names here]

I planned this drawing since day 1 -- but when I came to draw it I needed context... then for a stupid thing I did I needed even more context... so the fic was born!!

You can read it on Ao3 or here after the read more. This drawing is on Twitter too.

1

Yuuri has always loved dragons.

Since he was a child he’d grown accustomed to dragons, a friend’s parents were dragon trainers. He spent most of his time after the afternoon lessons in the trainers’ grounds, playing with both of his friends there. He loved it when the adults let him ride a dragon, and he even began to learn how to perform to participate in local competitions.

That was the reason the trainers invited him to watch a performance in another city. He was very excited as presentation was being held with renowned personalities who had won high places in international competitions. They were doing a world wide tour to show the best of the sport. Then, it happened and his life was never the same.

Yuuri was twelve when he met them. The beautiful boy and his majestic dragon. There were older riders performing who were more experienced than the boy, but Yuuri was enthralled by their program. Their amazing display of grace and harmony, showed their compatibility and training achieved even at the rider’s young age.

After that he threw himself into practice, all the free time he got was used to train. The adults happy to get a student who was really invested in the training. It wasn’t really their job, but they tried to give him all the opportunities they could offer. He soon asked his parents for his own dragon. He really, really wanted to have a dragon so precious like her, with that elegant figure and pretty scales, clearly well taken care of too.

His parents considered it. Unfortunately, they couldn’t afford to have the same kind that he was asking for, as they had no room nor income to maintain such large dragon, but they saw the sparkle in their son’s eyes. They got him a dragon.

The dragon was still a baby; the same height as their son. They knew when it grew up it could easily reach double the height of a tall adult, and that was just speaking about the height!! Dragons were huge, you know? And from what they were told, it looked just like the other dragon, just with scales a bit more darker than its original inspiration.

They saw the raw happiness radiate from their child as he named the dragon after his idol.

2

As a young adult Yuuri kept going to exhibitions to perform, even more than just the local ones he used to participate in when he was a kid. But with his current level he couldn’t make enough to provide all the expenses needed. As much as his family wasn’t short of money and a dragon were really tough when facing any issue, but they were still high maintenance.

So he kept flying and learning new acrobatics, but as soon as he could he got a job to help with his parent’s bills. Not everyone owns a dragon, so he used that to his benefit. Mail by horse was still the forte of local provincial communications, but if someone wanted to get a faster service they opted for dragon mail. Giving his local knowledge and history as a rider, he got hired quickly.

He also took advantage of his new work. When he got to go to faraway places he could spend a couple of days there and join some neighbourhood’s acrobatic performances or competitions. This wasn’t going to really give him a “name” in the field, but he could get experience, easy money and even a few contacts if he decided to step into the professional world. Ah, how much he hoped.

Maybe after saving for a while he could just take a long break from working to join a troupe of sign up to a bigger competition. He still needed to improve first, then he could show their skill to the world. One day he could even fly wing-to-wing with them! Only imagine it, competing at the same level, a new performance that would show how proud of himself he was. Imagine getting praises from <em>him</em>, or even an invitation to play a program together.

3

The first time Viktor saw the boy in a competition.

The competition was not a big one nor one where he was participating. And again, he didn't even watched the boy compete there. They met after it was over.

Frequently he used part of his spare time to check new faces in the sport, so he watched smaller competitions and shows. Usually the ones ending in higher standings would continue training and get to be big names in the future.

As he became more famous he tended to make himself invisible to the public for not being recognized, melting with the mass of people. Not wearing his flamboyant clothes and covering his distinctive hair. Entering and leaving the arena when no one watched.

It happened one time he was already leaving. Then he saw it, a dragon similar to his. Confused for a second as his mind reminded she was still far into the mountain and noticed the discrepancies. His dragon was smaller yet its color slightly different.

While he was busy thinking, a boy appeared from behind the creature. The boy was checking the straps of the saddle and some bags attached to it. The stranger’s clothes were extravagant, like the costume a participant could wear. But unknown. He didn't see him in the arena before.

He didn't remember a dragon of this breed neither, but again, he didn't get to watch all the competition. Later, he went to the information stand and learnt that indeed there was a participant like that. He decided to check the next time he saw his name.

And, woah, what a good decision it was. There weren't many occasions, but each time he could watch the boy and his dragon fly, was a delight. Such artistic programs, if not for a small lack of technique, surely could win a big deal of events.

Each time he watched them fly he got more and more attached. If the reason was they beautiful movements on the air or the beautiful looks of the riding boy, he didn’t mind too much anymore.

4

Over the exhibitions Viktor watched, he noticed how the boy grew confident with their performances improved their technique. The boy, Yuuri, still lacks some skills last time he saw, but nothing that fitting training could not fix. What if they talked? He could teach Yuuri what he was lacking! Which of them could win then?

He really wants for they to chat now. It seems like a good timing too, as he looks the official list of riders for the current contest. ‘Yuuri Katsuki’ is written between the names of his rivals this time. There still time before the competition begins, so he concludes he could try his luck checking the stables. Elated, he goes to the next building, but when he arrives the place is empty except for the dragons.

Walking resigned around the room he realizes there is a free box stall. Approaching it he reads the name tag of the box and smiles, then approaches to his dragon prepare her to go outside. He wonders what could Makkachin think if he manages to get them a new dragon friend. Together with its human friend, clearly.

They can’t be too far, as the opening is soon. He concludes to take a few minutes of searching could not be wrong and leaves riding. Outside he notices a deep rumble, almost like a heavy purr, like when he grooms the scales of his dragon’s neck. They follow the sound and… there is he. Viktor pauses to breath for a few seconds, then asks Makka to move again.

“Hi!!”

Yuuri jolts when he hears the voice ringing in the room. He was pretty sure he could be alone with Vicchan for a while before the competitions begins, but it seems someone decided to get rid of his chance. He didn’t even notice someone was near them, the fool! He turns his head around and this time he almost falls in surprise when recognizes <em>who</em> stole his chance.

There, just a few meters away from them, is Viktor Nikiforov.

5

He has no idea how. Really, he has no idea! But, right now Viktor Nikiforov - The Viktor Nikiforov just asked him if he wanted go for a ride on Makkachin. With Viktor. Viktor Nikiforov. He even knew his name!!! This means he’s surely delirious, right? His brain must be thinking he’s asleep. Did he slip from Vicchan while flying? Is he dead?

Still awestruck, he nods to the offer and stands up in the saddle. Nervously takes the open hand extended in front of him and tries to step on Makkachin’s stirrup without falling. He sat down and looks how Viktor is giggling to himself. What is so amusing? He can’t think, he is too busy looking at how gorgeous Viktor looks with that pretty outfit.

As he keeps looking, not like he’s staring!, the giggles morfes to an amazed laugh. And, Goodness!, he loves that laugh. But Yuuri doesn’t get what’s wrong yet.

“I know you need only one of us to command Makka, Yuuri. But still both of us should be looking forward. It’s… safer that way, don’t you think?” Viktor says, still snickeringa little.

Then he does notice what is wrong. He curses in his mind as he notices the terrible amateur mistake he made. The idiot just got onto the saddle backward.

“S-sorry!” Ashamed, he stands up quickly turns on the saddle and sits again, babbling incoherent apologies while Viktor just laughs louder and dismisses them telling it’s not serious matter.

Then, they take to the skies with Vicchan following them. He’s already calmed down after five minutes or so, when Viktor cuts the silence speaking again.

“You know, I laughed but it’s not too bad, Yuuri! Actually, everyone made a mistake or two from time to time. You’re aware of that, surely.”

“That doesn’t mean they are idiotic mistakes like this. I doubt it,” he says, stubborn as no one else could be. He knows it. Viktor chuckles.

“Oh well, if you really think it, this only give me the opportunity to extend my offer.” They land and he feels a gentle pat on his back. He looks over his shoulder as Viktor continues talking. “Since a while ago I’ve planned to propose sharing training information with you.”

Yuuri just keeps looking speechless. Is this really not a dream? Viktor grins at his expression.

“What do you say? Want to train with me?”

‘Like a dream come true’

He smiles and nods.

[themagiciansreccenter]

Five @ Five @thursdayeuclid

As a part of our author spotlight, we’ve asked each writer to highlight 5 fics and tell us a little about their experience writing (or reading) them.

Modified Aspect Ratio by @sabrinachill

Quentin flinches when party hats suddenly appear on all three of their heads - the pointy, cardboard kind, with elastic straps that bite into the soft underside of their chins. Crepe paper streamers float in the air and balloons drop from where a ceiling should be, drifting down to scatter across the white expanse that serves as a floor. Tiny multicolored fireworks explode into shapes like smiley-faces and stars, and a three-tiered cake coated in yellow and red icing pops into existence in a puff of flour, hovering to the monster’s right.

But the biggest decoration - and weirdest, by far - is the enormous blue neon sign with the words “Welcome to Hollywood!” strobing insistently against the white blankness.

The monster is now wearing a wizard costume, for some unknown reason, and bouncing up and down while clapping its hands and performing a horribly off-key rendition of “Party in the USA.”

“This is officially the worst party I’ve ever attended, including the one where we murdered a couple of gods,” Eliot mutters.

Quentin’s answering sigh is epic and professional-grade, containing all the exasperated resignation in the galaxy. “Why is it that everything that happens to us is always equal parts absurd and terrifying? I mean, I could accept regular old fear and tragedy, sure, whatever, everybody gets those. But it’s like the universe gets off on dicking us around.”

He wants to slump, all dramatic and defeated, but he’s still pinned in place by the monster’s powerful will, like a butterfly in a display case.

This has to be my favorite Queliot AU. It's patently ridiculous but just believable enough to really touch your heart. Which, honestly, is most of the show too. I laughed and cried reading this. It's amazing and unpredictable and goes places I would never have imagined.

to be unbroken or be brave again by @milominderbindered

After the fourth time it happens, Josh decides to go for it, and as they’re bathing in the sweaty afterglow, he asks Margo if she wants to go on a date.

Margo looks at him, up and down, and says, “No offence, Hoberman, but no.”

“Oh.”  Josh’s stomach sinks a bit.  He pulls up his pants and takes a joint out of his pocket.  “Okay, that’s chill too. Wanna smoke?”

“Oh, don’t look all sorry for yourself,” Margo says, rolling her eyes as she picks herself up from the bathroom floor and inspects her hair in the mirror.  “It’s nothing personal. You’re nice, the sex is good, whatever. But, listen. Eliot is my best friend, and he’s going through this incredibly shitty time right now.  Specifically to do with love.  It’s been a couple months since that Mike shit went down, but he’s still seriously messed up, and he’s my first priority, capiche?  I’m not gonna start dating someone and just leave him by himself half the time, or shove a bunch of lovey-dovey crap in his face.  No way. I’m not gonna date anyone until Eliot’s dating again, too.”

“Right,” says Josh, slowly, as he lights his joint and thinks about it.  “Not until he’s dating someone too. Got it.”

He thinks about the party raging downstairs, and about what he knows about Eliot.  Eliot’s had no problem hooking with guys recently, everyone knows that, but he’s not kept anyone around for more than a night.  He’s heard Margo calling it Eliot’s attachment freak-outs when he drops the guys as soon as they suggest sucking his dick more than once , which makes sense.  Except. Well, there’s that one first year, with the floppy hair and the Lord of the Rings t-shirt.  Eliot and the first year with the weird name haven’t hooked up, according to Josh’s well-informed rumour mill, but he certainly seems to be the only person other than Margo who Eliot’s remotely interested in spending time with when he’s not drunk.

There aren’t a lot of things in life Josh Hoberman has an excess of.  But he’s not hard up for money. He’s got a trust fund and a drug hustle.  And he’d spotted Eliot’s first year at the school noticeboard taking the number for a three-headed-dog walking ad, the other day.

So, just like that.  The threads tangle together.

So this is a 10 Things I Hate About You AU (which was itself a reimagining of Taming of the Shrew), and I'm living for it, just right off the bat. I love Hoberman wanting Margo so badly he goes to all this trouble. I love Quentin being morally compromised but just wanting to spend all his time with Eliot... I love it. This story deserved more attention. It made me laugh and 'aww' and have feelings, plus it's on the shorter side so you have no excuse not to read it.

we can kiss like real people do by VeryImportantDemon

“No offense,” Quentin began, squinting at the stranger, “but I don’t know you, um… Janet.”

“None taken,” the man said. “And my name’s not Janet, it’s Eliot. None of the names on these things are right, we just grab a nametag.”

“Oh,” Quentin said. He supposed that made sense. “But I still don’t know you.”

Eliot shrugged again, taking a sip of his coffee and licking his lips afterwards. Q tried to pretend like he wasn’t staring, but he and Eliot both knew that he was. “In that case, it can’t hurt to tell me, then,” he added.

“Why are you even here?” Quentin asked, stalling for time. Maybe the ridiculously attractive barista was on break and if Quentin talked long enough, that break would be up and he wouldn’t have to confess his embarrassing predicament.

“You’re sad and cute and I was bored,” Eliot said. “Now, spill.”

He was not to be deterred so Quentin didn’t have very long to dwell on the fact that he’d just been called cute. “I, um… I kind of lied to my dad,” he said.

“Ooo,” Eliot said, leaning forward. “Exciting. About what?”

“It’s not that exciting,” Quentin said. “I just… He’s worried I’m lonely and he keeps asking if I’ve met someone. I just told him I had a boyfriend once to get him to stop asking and now he wants to see a picture of us.”

“Mmhm,” Eliot said. “I think I’m following. Why didn’t you get that snack that was here earlier to take a pic with you?”

“I can’t,” Quentin said, wondering how his life had gotten to the point that he was having an impromptu therapy session with a barista. “That’s Penny. He’s my… Sort of friend? And he’s kind of an asshole.”

“Pity,” Eliot said. “This your phone?” he added, gesturing to the phone on the table.

“Yeah,” Quentin said. Before he said anything further, Eliot scooped it up, unlocked it with Quentin’s face, and then set about doing something Quentin couldn’t see. “Hey!” he protested. “That’s my phone!”

“I know,” Eliot said. He rose from his chair, crouched down beside Quentin, and flashed a mesmerizing smile. Quentin was sure he looked a little startled and confused in the selfie because he really was confused. Eliot moved fast. He tapped on Quentin’s phone for a few more seconds as he crossed the table and sat down in the chair he had previously occupied before tapping a few more times and sliding the phone back to Quentin. “There,” he said. “Problem solved.”

I am a complete sucker for fake dating, and this story has a delightful array of truly ridiculous fake dating tropes. Also, it has transgender Penny dating Margo, and as a trans man, I can only aspire to such absolute game. Well done, trans Penny. Godspeed you, good man. There's a scene where I was freaking out and very upset and the author had to reassure me in comments it would be okay, so I kept reading, and everything was lovely in the end.

The Honor of Your Presence by Page161of180

One of the first years-- Elliott (oh no, that is too confusing, even in his own internal monologue), ah, Todd doesn’t remember her name, not because he doesn’t care, but because there are two Emilies and an Emilia in the new class and he hasn’t quite sorted them out yet. Maybe he should ask them about their middle names?-- makes it halfway down the stairs, before coming to a dead stop at the sight of the PKC’s friendly neighborhood post-grad locked in a silent stare-off with a six-foot-something R-rated Disney prince in head-to-toe-- Todd’s pretty sure it’s brocade? It’s very shiny and kind of between mint and seafoam. Definitely a nice color, against pale skin and dark hair. Which Todd knows from dressing himself , not because he spends that much of his time thinking about-- Not that there’s anything wrong with--

Ha. Ha ha. What? Not the point.

Todd shakes his head frantically at Emily, Emily, or Emilia, and she gets the message, turning back up the stairs and retreating to the safety of her room. Todd wishes he could go with her. Not, like, with her , specifically; he’s more into Emily (other Emily? Or maybe she’s Emilia?), honestly. But, you know, away . Would be good. 

Neither Eliot nor Quentin seem to notice she was ever there.

Eliot has been staring at Quentin for one minute and forty-five seconds, Todd’s face going more ashen with each moment that slips away, when the former (still?) king finally says, “I’m sorry. What ?”

And if it were Todd facing down Eliot like that (not that it would be; why would he be dating Eliot? Crazy.), he would have basically just, become one with the carpet, because that only sounds like a question. It is very clearly, obviously a trap. But Quentin-- man . Quentin has always been, just, super brave. Way braver than you would probably expect from someone who’s all, sort of, pocket-sized and, um, no judgment but, not really all that good? At magic? Like, not bad-- definitely not bad! Just. Kind of normal and-- soft? If that makes sense? He just sort of always looks like he needs a hug. Which is maybe why Eliot basically always has at least one arm wrapped around him.

Not now, though. Now, Eliot has both arms down at his sides, hands dangerously still, while Quentin crosses his own over his chest and sets his jaw.

This is just one of the greatest fics I've ever read in any fandom, for any pairing, and it's hilarious and feelsy and I had to keep pausing when I was reading it just to sit with my emotions for a minute. I recommend it to absolutely anyone who likes Queliot at all.

Ask Me, I Won't Say No by @veganshailseitan

None of them linger too long in their booth after they collect the gift certificate that will almost cover their drinks for next week-

Wednesday Night Trivia Rule 2: Only Penny and Alice are allowed to handle the gift certificates because they are the only ones who won’t lose them.

-exchanging hugs and kisses on cheeks. He’s walking out of the bar while texting —a grave mistake he should have learned from by now, but he just has to let the sitter know he’s going to be late real quick— when he suddenly smacks into something solid, sending his phone clattering to the floor.

Something solid which oh, fuck happens to be a person.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” the stranger says, despite the fact that Quentin should clearly be taking the blame here. 

He’s ducking to pick up his hopefully-not-shattered phone before he can even spare a glance at the person, “You’re fine, I wasn’t paying attention to-” he loses the sentence as he stands back up, looking up to a face he’s only seen from across the room “-you?”

His brief interaction with the enemy-

”I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Eliot. Waugh.”

“Um, yeah, I’ve seen you here before, hi. Quentin Coldwater.”

“Quentin Coldwater?” -sticks in Quentin’s mind for the next week. He’s excited for trivia. More excited than the usual eagerness for his night out of the house with grown-ups, and nervous for the first time since he could remember. Which is so dumb and shows Quentin how painfully out of practice he is at interacting with other human beings.

He and the guy —Eliot— had barely exchanged two sentences and he’s pretty sure one of them had just been Eliot making fun of his name. But then again, his type has always been the ones that pulled his pigtails on the playground —which, yeah super healthy there Quentin, way to go— except for Arielle.

And there it was: the surefire way to kill whatever ill-advised excitement he’d been holding onto for the night.

He’s early this week, for reasons he’s already overthinking, so he goes ahead and grabs their usual table. It’s his week to pick-

Wednesday Night Trivia Rule 1: The person in charge of choosing the team name will rotate on a weekly basis in alphabetical order. That week’s decider can only be overruled by a unanimous vote from the rest of the team (per the March 2018 addendum).

-so he lets the group chat know he’s there, checks them in with the Quizmaster as To Be Perfectly Queer, (because he’s at least self-aware at this point in his life) and heads to the bar, trying to focus on whether or not he wants to try the new local craft brew they were pushing this month-

And immediately runs into Eliot.

Thankfully not literally this time.

“Well, hello, Quentin.” Eliot looks as surprised to run into him as Q is, which is stupid on both their parts.

“Uh, Eliot. Hello. How are you?” just talk like a normal human, Quentin, Jesus.

Eliot smiles, sultry and so over the top that Quentin almost laughs, “Fraternizing with the enemy, are we? I’m sworn to hold our knowledge in secrecy, so don’t you dare try to seduce it out of me.”

Quentin does laugh at that, somehow put at ease by Eliot’s carefree flirtation, “I’ll try to restrain my charms. Scout’s honor.”

I actually -just- got around to reading this one and I liked it so much it made me squee out loud on a couple of occasions. It's hot, it's kidfic, it's sweet, and there's feelings and fluff and smut. Basically a ridiculous AU where Eliot and Quentin are on opposing pub trivia teams. However, that premise accounts for only a fraction of this story's considerable charms. I didn't expect to love it like I did--I did, in fact, expect to love it in a totally different way--and then it hooked me and dragged me panting and squirming through a smorgasbord of emotion. 

[rpgwrites]

11 Questions

I was tagged by @wickedwitchofthewilds and @s0me-writer Thank you both for the tag!!

Tagging: @garrus, @kenshi-vakarian7, @ladyinthebluebox, @autodiscothings, @pigeontheoneandonly, @randomlygeneratedstring, @schoute, @n0rmandysr1, @inquartata30, and @forlornmelody, with no obligations.

Here are your questions:

1. What is your favourite colour?

2. Do you have any good news to share?

3. What is one thing you hated, but never truly understood, that people do?

4. What is your general idea about people?

5. Recommend me a song. 

6. Share one of your old-time favourite fics you’ve read. 

7. What is an important lesson you’ve learned from your life?

8. What makes you happy?

9. Do you like to spend an evening alone at home or out with friends?

10. How many languages can you speak? What are they?

11. How are you doing?

Questions by @wickedwitchofthewilds

1. What song is currently your fave?

Honestly, I don't have a favourite song right now. I should get one and then some more. I might perform in October and I need to pick some songs to sing. So I guess I'll go and listen to some music and decide.

2. What is your favorite thing to create (draw, write, etc.)

Music. I would love to write some songs one day. Last time I did was in High school for an Assignment I got from my music class.

3. Who is your favorite Superhero, supervillain, mutant, etc?

I always really liked Batman.

4. Your favorite childhood video game or board game?

 Lol, I really liked to play Monopoly when I was a kid. Fun times.

5. How many WIPs do you have?

9 and counting. Depending on what you define as an WIP. Currently I'm writing 3 WIPS but the rest are floating around in my head.

6. Is there anything you’re currently excited for?

So, Friday the 9th is National Women's day which means I have a long weekend. And I hope I can get some writing done because lately I've been really struggling to write. So it's possible that in the whole long weekend I'll only write a line. I think I finally figured out the reason and I'll need to work through it. So it might be a while that I'll keep struggling.

7. What is your favorite animal (real or fantasy)?

I always loved horses.

8. What is your favorite headcanon about any character?

I don't know. I always really liked the idea of Reyes (Mass Effect: Andromeda) neither is the good nor the bad guy. I always really loved characters like that.

9. What is your favorite snack food?

Lemons. I love to eat sour things.

10. What is your favorite animated movie?

I'm not sure I have a favourite one. But as a kid I really loved Aladin. Always loved characters like Aladin.

11. There is a tiny door in my closet that creeps me out. Should I open it?

I want to say yes, if you do it then it can't bother you anymore. But I'll probably say leave it, think about it. Do you really want to know what's behind that door? Will it be worth it? If it still bothers or creeps you out then sure, go for it.

Questions by @s0me-writer

1) I also want to know what your dream pet would be.

I would love to have a sharpei dog or a huskey with blue eyes. But honestly, I also feel it's cruel to have huskeys where I live becuase it's hot here. They can be easily found here, but still.

2) How long would you last in a zombie apocalypse?

This is me being realistic, not pessimistic. 

So, getting supplies will be really important. People would want to get food first, that’s pretty important. And let’s be honest. Do we ever see people that depend on medical supplies in movies or series where there’s a zombie apocalypse? No, not really and if we do well they never last long. And since I’m a diabetic I don’t think I’ll last long either. Maybe my insulin will keep me for a couple of weeks but sooner or later I’ll run out. Maybe there’s a pharmacy that will have some sort of stock left but sooner or later insulin will be scarce. The people that do has it won’t give it for nothing. I’ll run out of needles and testing strips too. I might survive a while without it, but sooner or later I won’t be able to and then I’ll be a liability to others. 

3) If you could learn the absolute and total truth to one question, what would you ask?

Oh wow, there's a couple. One question I had for most of my life is, why am I diabetic? And yes, yes, I know my pancreas stopped working one day, but why? There must be a reason, right?

Generally I never really asked this question out loud because well everyone has their own opinions. There's no family history of it. The one doctor said it's possible that a virus or something attacked my pancreas but I didn't have one that time. So that didn't really make sense. When I was a kid my mom thought it was because of stress. The reason she thought it was because I started to get symptoms at the age of 5 and it's around that time my parents started to get problems. The timing fits but I disagree.

Apparently, there are some unknown reasons people can become diabetics (just what I've heard) so I'll probably never know. Just something to think about.

4) If you could ask for advice from any historical figure, who would it be?

Maybe, Jan van Riebeeck. 

5) Add on to above- What would you ask this historical person?

Honestly, I’m not sure if he is the right person for this. I don’t know who is. But I would ask him what he thinks of the current situation South Africa is in. I would ask, what he thinks he should do to do better. To stop doing the wrong things and start to do the right ones. To be able to forgive and forget and move on to a better future. 

6) If you had a theme song, what would it be?

Hmm... not sure. Maybe I want to break free- Queen. I always liked the idea of freedom.  

7) What do you miss most about being a kid?

I miss watching movies with my dad. I used to visit him and we saw movies together. I'm not really sure why I miss it though.

8) What fact amazes you every time you think of it?

What service dogs are capable of doing. 

9) Which pet made the biggest impact on your life? (If no pets, then a person.)

My first dog. I got him when I was 1. The reason my parents decided to get me a dog was because they didn’t want me to be alone. They were at work all day, and sister is 8 years older than me and my brother 10 years so they thought a dog would be a good idea. His name was Buksie. I told him all my secrets and feeling growing up, and he understood me. He went everywhere with me and we had a very special bond. He died when I was 11, and his death was really hard for me. 

10) What makes a person beautiful to you?

a Person’s personality. And I don’t think this is a very popular opinion. This actually reminds me of a Psychology class. The lecturer asked, “If you walk into a room what attracts you to another person.” Basically, it was personality vs. looks.  And of course, my lecturer pinpointed me so I gave my opinion. I told them I never liked someone because of looks. For me, it’s always been about personality. I always first needed to get to know the person a little bit different. I care more about what’s on the inside than the outside. That’s what matters to me. Which is probably why my friends (in school) always was attracted to the guys who were good looking and were in the first Rugby team where I just never saw it like that. 

11) What makes you feel young?

Singing makes me feel young. Music makes me feel alive. 

[dylanobrienisbatman]

Oooh blarke prompt! Sick fic or an exes to lovers but bellamy was the one to break up with clarke cause somehow it's almost always the other way around? 😘😘

AHHH!!! okay! I am SO sorry this took so long, but i finally finished! You can read it on AO3 here, or under the cut!

Caution Tape Around My Heart

Bellamy had always hated hospitals, his whole life he had hated them. At first it had just been in that way everyone did, the too sterile smell, the sick people everywhere, how there was always that one doctor who was sort of a dick but you couldn’t be a dick back because he was literally performing a procedure on you right then and there. But then, when he was 16, his mom died in a hospital, from a drug overdose, and that was the proverbial straw that broke the camels back. He was always on the brink of a panic attack when he was in hospitals, and the slightest thing would set him into a spiral that would take hours to come back from. And then, when he was 25, he found out he had cancer. He fell, playing soccer with friends, and the bruise just grew and grew and grew, over the next week, until it was almost his whole thigh, and he went to get it checked out, and they told him he had stage 3 non-Hodgkin Lymphoma. He was 31 years old now, and had been in remission for almost 3 full years, but his monthly checkups with his doctor still required an anti-anxiety pill beforehand and some serious attempts at meditation (recommended by his therapist that he had during treatment). It was his 2 year and 10 month checkup, post remission, and he was sitting in the waiting room at 945am, before his 1015 appointment, and his leg was bouncing up and down at full speed, and he kept continually having to wipe the sweat off his palms on his jeans. Any small thing was going to set him over the edge today, he had come down with a nasty cold last week and had convinced himself his cancer was back, had even called his doctor in hysterics (he had been assured that people just got colds, it was normal, but he asked to move his appointment up anyway), and so he was especially on edge.

Which meant Clarke Griffin walking into the waiting room REALLY was not what he needed today.

Oncology shared a waiting room with physical therapy, and she went to the check in desk on that side of the room, giving him a chance to quickly hop from his seat and find a spot in a corner, and also to be mildly relieved. She wasn’t here for cancer treatment, as far as he could tell, which… for all their difficult history, he wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemy. He studied her from the back while she waited in line. Her hair was shorter, but it had been almost 6 years since he had seen her, but other than that she looked mostly the same. A little older, but still the same.

Clarke was his first love, and the girl he had loved most. She had been in a class he was a TA for when he was a senior in college and she was a freshmen, and had made it her mission to challenge him on every single thing he said, and he had basically loved her instantly, in that way that made him angry at himself because she was so clearly irritating. They had figured it out, when she was 20 and he was 23, after almost 2 years of being inseparable friends, and he was almost positive he was going to marry her. But things didn’t always work out as planned, and he had broken up with her pretty soon after he found out he had cancer, for a lot of different reasons, and that had been that. She had moved away pretty soon after, from what he had heard, and he hadn’t seen her since they broke up, until this moment, in the hospital, while he was already panicking about his checkup.

Perfect.

He tried his best to shuffle down into his seat, and grabbed a random magazine off the shelf, pulling it in front of his face, but shocking literally no one, not even himself, it didn’t work, and when Clarke turned around, they made eye contact instantly. Her eyes grew to the size of small dinner plates, and she looked frantically around, he was assuming for some kind of escape route that wouldn’t look suspicious. They stared at each other for a second, and then he watched as she steeled herself a little, and walked over to him. He had been expecting acknowledged ignoring, so this was a shock. She walked slow, like she was trying not to startle some small forest creature, and plopped down in the empty seat on his left.

“Hi Bellamy.”

“uh… Hey. Hey Clarke.” He wasn’t sure you were supposed to say to an ex that you hadn’t spoken too or seen in 6 years. He didn’t even know what she was up too. “What are you.. uh.. what are you doing here?” He wasn’t sure if he meant in town or in the hospital… he figured whichever she answered would be good enough.

“Raven had physical therapy today… I just got back in town a few weeks ago and she asked me to pick her up today.” Raven had known Clarke was in town for a couple of WEEKS and hadn’t told him? Which meant his other friends probably knew too. Dicks.

“That was nice of you.” He said. He was sincere, but she scoffed. He wasn’t sure he actually blamed her, but he tried to recover. “No, really. I’m not… I’m not trying to be a dick.” She looked at him through the corner of her eye. They hadn’t actually made eye contact since she sat down, an awkward position for an awkward encounter. She smiled, wary but apologetic.

“What are YOU doing here?” She asked, glancing over him. He didn’t seem like he had an injury that required therapy, and he had never told her about his cancer.

“Uhh, i’ve got a… i’ve got a checkup with my oncologist.” Her eyes widened, finally turning to face him.

“You ha-“

“I’m in remission. I’ve been in remission for… a while. Just a monthly checkup. A few blood tests, a couple questions. No big deal.” He wasn’t sure if he actually succeeded at feigning the blasé attitude, but to be fair, he didn’t really care if she believed him or not. She wasn’t entitled to his story, not anymore. He felt a weird sense of rage grow in his belly.

“Oh.. Well.. congratulations.” Platitudes, meant for strangers and acquaintances. He wasn’t sure what category she was even in.

“Yeah… Thanks..”

They sat in silence for another minute, which felt like hours. He wasn’t sure what to say, and clearly neither was she. She opened her mouth to speak a couple of times before snapping it shut, and retreating back into her seat. She finally opened it again, and was about to actually say something when the nurse opened the door and called his name.

“Wou-“

“Bellamy Blake?” He stood up, but turned to face her. Eye contact was terrifying. He looked at her nose instead. He waited a second, and then turned, because she had clearly decided not to finish her sentence, and walked about 3 steps before she finally spoke up.

“Would you like to grab a coffee or something? I’d love to talk. To catch up.” He paused, and the nurse looked expectantly. He smiled at her, and turned.

“Yeah… uh… Raven has my number. Just… text me. or call me. or whatever.”

She nodded, a small smile on her mouth that looked almost forced, and he turned away from her and followed the nurse inside.

He was numb through most of the appointment, barely hearing what the doctor said. The real news came later, thankfully, when they called him in 2-3 days with the results of his call, so he wasn’t concerned, and he hopped on the subway home at around 11, barely even paying attention. Thankfully he didn’t have to drive. He really didn’t expect her to text, but at around noon, his phone rang, and an unknown number was CALLING him. He contemplated letting it go to voicemail, but his more impulsive side got the better of him and he answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hello… is this Bellamy?” Her voice was sort of shaky and unsure.

“Yeah, hey Clarke.”

“Are you busy right now? I’m at Ravens and she said you live close. I could meet you for coffee wherever.”

He contemplated making up a busy day, but he had taken off work for the appointment and he was just planning on lounging around his house and finishing up the new book he had picked up on the rise and fall of the ottoman empire, and that nagging feeling in his gut wouldn’t go away. He had to know, had to have a moment of closure even if it ended in a fight. He didn’t have high expectations.

“Nope, not busy at all. Theres a little local place on Atlantic and Smith.” She agreed, and they scheduled about 30 minutes out. He thought about changing into something else, but she had seen him this morning, and she would know. He didn’t want to give her the impression that he was trying to make himself look good for her. He ignored the way his heart was about to bust through his ribs and run across the room. He pulled on his shoes, tucked his book under his arm, fumbled trying to lock his door, and made his way there. He figured if he was early he could pick a good table, order himself a drink, and look reasonably comfortable before she showed up.

Apparently she had the same idea, because she walked in while he was ordering.

They stood awkwardly near the counter while their drinks were made, and settled into two comfy chairs in the back corner. She broke the silence after a moment.

“I just wanted too… I don’t know. This seems stupid now.” She looked at him for something. He wasn’t sure if she wanted him to contradict her or confirm her thoughts, but he didn’t even really know what he thought anyway.

“I mean… maybe it is. But were here now, so we should probably at least talk a little. No point in all this discomfort otherwise.” She chuckled, and some part of him, some 6 years hidden, 25 year old part of him, preened at making her laugh. The feeling hit him baseball to the face, and he didn’t know how to respond to it.

“Very true.” She agreed, which was a relief. “What have you been up too?” It was such a broad question to cover 6 years.

“I’m a history professor, at Columbia. I have been for about 2 years. I’m working towards my Ph.D. in their history department too, taking a few night classes and stuff. Living here, obviously.” It felt so pedestrian, talking about his job with the person who used to know him best in the whole world. “You?”

“I.. uh.. I just moved back. To the city. I have a job as a curator at the Brooklyn Museum. Finished up college, obviously, with my art degree… you know that you were there,” she was talking so fast, her nerves apparent. She hadn’t picked up her cup in a while because her hands were shaking. “…And did a masters, and I was working as a curator for a small gallery in San Francisco for about a year before I applied for this job. I am staying with Raven for a few days before I can move into my new place.” Another weird conversational standstill. She looked at him with this look that just sort of told him that she wanted him to ask something next. He just wasn’t sure what to ask.

“That’s great, sounds like the perfect job for you.” He realised this was somehow weird to say, because while she might not have changed that much, 6 years is a long time. She could be a totally different person. He didn’t know her at all anymore. He tried not to think about that. “I don’t know what to say, Clarke.” It was true. Their breakup had been gnarly, full of anger and cruel words, and resentment dies hard. And he held quite a bit of it towards her for the thing she had done.

“Bellamy I-“ She started but he cut in.

“Your mom called me “welfare trash” Clarke. To my face. And you just… stood there. We had been dating for almost TWO YEARS, and you let her call me that.” She shrunk into her seat. He realised that his words were still coming, a stream of things unsaid, things unresolved. “You let her tell me I wasn’t good enough for you, that my “status” in life would never be enough for you, and that you would leave me for someone with more money once you realised that I couldn’t give you the life you wanted.” She was welling up, but that just made him angrier. She didn’t get to cry about his pain. “And then you let her sit there, and tell you about how much better for you this man and that man and this girl and that girl, ‘some young lawyer maybe dear’ ‘perhaps doctor whats his nuts’. You let her humiliate me. And I just took it, and you apologised to me afterwords, but you never corrected her. You never stood up for me. And for the next month, you just let her keep it up. And at that point i already knew about my cancer, and you just… let her keep at it.” Her eyes widened. He hadn’t told her about the cancer. “And i know you didn’t know, but you didn’t need to know. I was your boyfriend and you just…” He trailed off, shutting his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself down. He got his breathing straight.

“So I broke up with you. You clearly didn’t want to defend me to your mom, and maybe you agreed with her, maybe you didn’t, but you never told her. Maybe you did later, but you should have done it in front of me, or at least in the days following. And I had cancer, and I couldn’t pile that on to someone who couldn’t even stand up to her mom for me.” Her face was a maze of emotions, from distress, shock, and sorrow, to something heavy, like grief. He finally sat back in his seat and just… breathed.

“I’m sorry.” That was what he wanted to hear, but not at all what he expected. He almost dropped his coffee. “I was 22, and I know thats not an excuse, but she… well… its my mom. And that was when i still had this weird hero worship complex towards her. I didn’t know how to stand up to her back then. I didn’t know what to do.” He was sure he looked stunned, and maybe a little angry. “I’m not trying to make excuses. I’m not. I deserved everything you said back then… and everything you said now. You were everything to me, and i let her… i let her treat you like garbage. I just want you to… I don’t know. A couple of years later, when I finally got my head out of my ass a little, I confronted her about it. I told her you were… my best friend,” Her voice was shaky, like she was going to cry. He resisted the urge to reach across the table and take her hand. “You were my first REAL love. I had boyfriends, and girlfriends before you. And i loved them, sure. I loved Lexa, I loved Finn, kind of,” it was his turn to chuckle, “but you were different. And i just… I’m just sorry. I know i was wrong, and I’m just sorry. I wanted you to know that.” He wasn’t sure what to say.

“What did your mom say?” Was what came out, entirely unprompted by his conscious brain. He wanted to kick himself. She smiled, to her credit.

“She was shocked to say the least, but i think i got through to her. And a couple years after that I found out about her involvement with my fathers death, so we don’t speak anymore anyways.” That was the kind of bomb of information he wasn’t prepared for, and his subconscious took the opportunity, yet again over riding his conscious choice to maintain the appearance of not caring, to take control of his mouth.

“She WHAT?” Clarke shook her head, and suddenly the conversation flowed. She told him about her mom and what she had done, and that flowed into stories about their lives. The conversation was simple, nothing too exposing, except the story about her mom, and his story about his cancer. She asked about his sister, about his job, he asked about Wells and HER job, and they just sort of traded stories. It still felt weird, like talking to a stranger who somehow new too much about him to ever be a real stranger. The only stayed for about an 45 minutes, nothing too long or intense, but at the end he felt like a weight was lifted. They didn’t hug, or touch at all, when they parted ways, but he saved her still ‘unknown’ number in his phone during his walk home and he figured that was a start.

Over the next few months, she slowly reintegrated into his life. She was invited out for drinks every weekend, now that her friends knew that he knew she was back, and asked him to lunch so often that it was a scheduled thing now, to see her at work or on the weekends. But it was Raven’s birthday were it all came to a head.

Her “party” was just a get together at her loft, with all her friends and her girlfriend Luna, and when he got there it was just the two of them and Clarke. He dropped the 12 pack of beers and the pack of cupcakes he brought on the counter, and found them all three out on the balcony, drinking a bottle of red wine. He tried to ignore the way it stained Clarkes lips pink. He had caught himself thinking about her a lot the last couple of times they had spent time together. Their time together had gotten more familiar, easy like it used to be, and the way he used to feel, at the beginning of their friendship, so long ago was creeping its way back in. He had broken up with her out of rage, and betrayal, and in an attempt to protect himself from her, but it had been so long. Every time they spent time together, she would find a way to apologise again, to assure him that she knew, she knew she had been wrong, so long ago, she knew that what she had done had hurt him, and he felt the wall he had built being brought down, piece by piece. He tried his best to force it back up, to retain the barrier between himself and his feelings, but it was harder than he expected it to be.

The night wore on, and the beers got him fuzzy, and wine always made her touchy, and before he really realised it, her arm was around his waist, and they were sharing the recliner. He thought about pulling himself away from her, but the smell of her hair and the feel of her, warm and solid around him, was like every dream he ever had those first couple of years after she left, and the part of him that made good choices with logic was hiding behind that wall that kept shrinking down, and letting the part of him that led with his heart take the lead. So he stayed, pressed against her, letting himself feel it, letting himself maybe think that he could see past it. that he could forgive her. Her hand found his knee, his thigh, his arm, his shoulder, over and over again, and his brain just kept getting fuzzier as the night dragged on. When it was finally time to go leave, she hugged him goodbye, tucking her nose into the junction of his shoulder and his neck, and when she leaned back, she pressed up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, closer to the corner of his lips but not quite, and the place where her lips landed was on fire. She untangled herself from him and wandered out to go home, leaving him shell shocked.

She didn’t call him the next day, didn’t reach out at all, and he felt like he was going out of his mind. He picked up his phone at least 7 times to call her, and then put it back down. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself, just kept pacing around his apartment. He couldn’t find anything to distract him, and before he really realised what he was doing he was putting on shoes and grabbing his keys and catching the train to her apartment, his brain rattling around as he rode. He knew it was stupid. She had only been back for 6 months, but the anger of a 25 year old him, scared of dying, scared of loosing her, scared of not being good enough seemed... far away now. Far away from the 31 year old version of himself that was standing here now, missing this girl he had told himself it was stupid to miss. Longing for this girl he had made himself push away. She was just like he remembered. She was his perfect match. She was strong, and bright, and beautiful as he'd ever seen her, and full of so much joy. She was everything he ever wanted, just like she had been at 23, and 24, and 25. Just like she had been all those years in between, when he made himself ignore how he compared every person he dated to her. She was made for him. She was a part of his heart. She was his "One".He got to the door, and realised he had no idea what to do. He paced outside for almost 10 minutes, and was just about to ring her bell when his phone buzzed.

He pulled it from his pocked, and her name flashed across the screen. He answered it.

“Hey..”

“Hey where are you?” He paused, but before he could answer she kept talking. “I’m at your place, and you’re not answering your bell.” He couldn’t hold it together, and started laughing, right there on the street. “what are yo-“ He interrupted her through his laughter.

“Im at your place.”

“What?!”

“I was just… I don’t know. So i came to your place to.. I don’t know.”

“Just stay there,” she said, hanging up the phone. He stood awkwardly outside her house for the next 20 minutes until she rounded the corner and saw him. She stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of him, and then took of at a run, barrelling into him, holding him tight. He took a second to respond, and then wrapped his arms around her waist. She unhooked herself from him, and took him by the hand and led him into her apartment. He stopped just inside the doorway, and she turned to face him. “Look, Bellamy, I know it was all… a mess. And its only been a little while… but. It feels the same. Like it did at the beginning.”

“Yeah… it does…” He felt like he was betraying some small part of himself by feeling it all. By feeling it again. But they had alway been sort of undeniable. And the problems between them were so long ago, and so… gone. Her mom wasn’t in her life anymore, and she had finally stood up for him, even if it was a little too late, and she had come back, and apologised so much that he had to finally ask her to stop. He had forgiven her.

“i was so angry with you, for treating me that way.” She nodded, and him, taking both of his hands. “I dont want to feel that way anymore.” She squeezed his fingers, and kept her face trained and neutral.

“I understand… Forgiveness is hard for us. It always was. And this… this was big Bellamy. I know i hurt you. And I’ll spend as long as it takes to make it right again. I need you Bellamy. I always did.” Her sincerity was palpable.

“You were my person, Clarke. I never found another person in my life who was as good for me, as right for me, as much my other half… you.” A small smile finally creeped into her cheeks. “If we take this slow…”

“Glacial pace… I promise.” She took a step forward, just slight but enough to put her in his space.

“Okay.” He said, soft. She took another step, and pushed up onto her toes, slow. Waiting for him to meet her in the middle. He leaned down, and she pressed up just enough, and pressed a soft dry kiss against his mouth. She stepped back, faster than he maybe wanted, but he knew they made the right choice. Six years and all that history, they needed time, time to get it right.

And this time they would.

Together.

[wandering-chronicler-blog]

The Wolf of Farore - Chapter 44

An Ongoing Zelda/Witcher Fusion Fic - Updates Sundays/Mondays for the foreseeable future.

War has come to The Kingdom of Hyrule.  The people cry for a savior as monsters and spirits stalk the once green fields of the provinces.  Famine grips the populace as the Gerudo Tribes and their blin allies strike along the borders.  Hope for peace begins to drown in the blood spilled in No Man’s Land.  But Hyrule doesn’t need another hero.  It needs a professional.

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CHAPTER 44:  PRE-DIVE

The escape had gone far smoother than anyone expected and the Tower of the Gods was almost a day behind them now.  All around them was just the ocean.  No signs of the platforms that Medli’s tribe used for their courier work or other ships. It was completely empty apart from the steamboat and frigate that moved together through the vastness.  They’d expected trouble from the escape as the other ship in Jolene’s small fleet had been lost to geozards and the mutants, but they met no resistance.  For the moment, he stood on the bridge next to the cannon, watching below as Medli demonstrated to Aryll some of her martial arts.  His sister had started to practice them as well and he could hear the rito correcting her as they went.  She stopped as Medli pulled a stick to mimic a sword and handed it to her.  A moment later, she demonstrated how to disarm an opponent with it.

 They were still a ways from their destination though, and he was sure there was more they could be doing to prepare.  Given the hour though, he reached up and squeezed the wolf around his neck.  Any other last pieces of information on what they were up against would be invaluable.  Especially given how she’d saved them a world of hurt when learning that the mutated corpses could become carriers.  He turned back to look to where they’d come, leaning against the rail and squeezing la little tighter.

 “Hey, you there, Mid?” he asked.

 There was a long pause before he heard her voice.  “...hang on...”

 He realized then the time differences between their worlds.  “I didn’t wake you did I?”

 “No.  I’ve been preparing for my trip to Lorule.  Got the okay from my father to check in.”

 He closed his eyes, focusing.  “Ah. Making sure something didn’t happen there like with the mask?”

 She appeared in his mind’s eye then.  “Yeah.” She ran a hand through her hair. He could make out a couple books and a bag too.  

  Her red eyes glanced in his direction.  “So. What’s up?” she asked.

 “We’re preparing our dive,” he said.  “We found Bellum’s tomb.  And its looking very dangerous.  Just because of the depths we’re going to.”

 “To say nothing of the fact it’s a god from before The Goddesses ordered your world.”

 “Yeah.”  He took a deep breath.  “Really nervous about it.  Good chance none of us will come back from it.”

 “Well, did find a couple other little things.  Least from one of our texts.”

“Oh?”

 She grabbed one of the books.  He saw papers sticking out of it she’d used to bookmark it and quickly skimmed through them before stopping on one page.  “Looks like your goddesses may have been partially involved.”  She pulled it up and showed it to him.  He recognized some of the symbols, even though he didn’t know any of the specifics of what they m eant.  Shad would’ve known, he was sure.  “Nayru specifically.”

 He nodded a little.  “Well, one old tale says she created the sea by weeping into it and submerging an entire continent.”

 “That could very well be part of the tale.  She used it to hide a prison buried under the rock so that something would remain there until the time was right.”

 Only one answer to what would be there given everything.  They both knew it.  “Bellum.”

“I don’t have enough to clearly tell you one way or the other what’s down there, but Bellum’s tomb could have been made by The Goddesses and sealed away by your sky and ocean spirits.  Hoping to keep him down there until eternity ends.”

 Though going that deep and into the unknown was something particularly worrying, he was sure that at least he might be okay now and that they had some small thing in their favor against the old god now.  “Alright.”

 “There’s something there too.  Something keeping his servants from opening the door to his cell, but most of these texts don’t have a whole lot to go on.”

 “Oh?”

 She furrowed her brow as she flipped through the book some more, eventually putting it aside and taking another one.  “They’re deliberately cryptic.  Why I can’t reason with something this important.”

 “Heh.”

 She glanced up at him. “What?”

 “Twins say the same thing with some of their research.  Especially about The Inquisition.”

 “Aaah.”  She gave an understanding nod before looking back down at the page and the paper she’d stuffed in it.  “There’s a note here though that...”  For a brief moment she looked surprised then.

 Suddenly, she vanished from his sight.  The magic was still working though, he could feel it in his charm.    “Mid?” he asked.  There was no response though.  He let go of the charm for a moment before looking back down at his sister and Medli.  They were practicing kicks now as Medli played the instructor for Aryll.  He was glad she was getting along so well with everyone.  Maybe it would be okay to bring her along.  He bowed his head a little then, looking back to the stern of the ship. The life of a Chosen was brutal and though many a tale painted them as great as The Hero, he knew all too well that they were still very much mortal.  Their mutations, a secret to the world apart from those few in power, did let them perform legendary feats, but there was a host of things that came with it. Before his mind could dig further into it, his charm shook.  He reached for it and closed his eyes again.  Midna appeared once more, this time, eyes narrowed and a scowl on her face.  One he had seen her wear countless times during The Conjunction.

  “You okay?” he asked

 “Zant’s here.” She said plainly.

 “Oh.  You have to go?”

 She shook her head, sitting back down and slouching in her seat.  “He’s not even supposed to be here today.  One of the new servants let him and his entourage in.”

 “Aaah.  And now he’s demanding to speak with you.”

 “Yep.  I have a couple people delaying him right now.   Though I don’t know how long that’ll last.”

 “Know what he wants?”

 Her gaze scared him a little at the look in her eye.  Though he’d seen it before, it still was something that scared him.  She was clearly unhappy with the events that had occurred.  “Yeah.  Me.”

 “Ah.”  From what little she’d told him on him, he assumed whatever had happened in their past was something that had caused her to loathe him.  At that moment though, he immediately realized she’d always disliked him as long as he’d known her.  Or at least as long as...  “.. oh.”  Midna glared at him.  She figured out what he had just learned as well.  He saw her lip curl down and her gritting her teeth.  Link held up a hand to her then and shook his head.   “Say no more.  I won’t pry.  But if you want to vent I won’t tell a soul.”

  The sneer faded as she closed her eyes with what sounded like a forced chuckle.  “You’re too noble for your own good sometimes, y’know that?” she asked.

 “Didn’t you want me showing you more chivalry?” he replied, a slight smirk on his own lips.  

 It was her turnt o smirk back at him.  “Wasn’t expecting it to show up right then with that Griffin.  And be remarkably difficult to tell the difference between that and your usual noble idiocy.”  The smirk turned into a sweet smile as the mischief left her for now.  “Thanks though.  Seriously.”

 “Of course, Mid. 

 She sighed a little and sat back up in her chair, tugging down the vest she wore.  “It’s...  Kind of a touchy topic.”

 “So how about to one less touchy?”

 “Yeah”  Midna’s eyes glanced over the book again  “Like old gods at the bottom of the ocean.”

 Her bluntness made Link chuckle.  “Like that.  So.  That note you mentioned before Zany Zant so rudely interrupted us.”

 That got a small snicker out of her.  “Uh...  ah.”  She began to skim the book again, looking for where she’d left off.  “It looks like for some of it that the prison designed follows the same laws of Nayru.  So.  This could’ve been during The Ordering.”

 “Anything specific?”

 “That no divine hand or ones touched by divine hands could open it,” she said, not even looking up.

 Given what he knew about mythology and legends in their world, virtually everything had been made by divine hands.  “If that’s the case someone or something has opened it enough that Bellum is trying to change the world.”

 “I have a theory on that actually.  But it’s a lot of speculation.”  She closed the book then.

 “What is it?”

 “The Conjunction put cracks in the prison.  And it has allowed Bellum’s influence to leak out. But he can’t break the prison to free himself.  Because he’s a ‘divine being’ or counts as one at least as far as I can tell by these texts.”

 “But his servants can still carry out his will.  Use the slime to give him a better look at things, which is his influence leaking out of it.  Given a physical form and mutagenic properties like The Malice of Demise.”

 “Exactly.”

 Guilt washed over him then, much as he’d learned with some of the creatures twisted by The Twilight energies during The Conjunction and then again when him and Midna had encountered the refugees turned into shadow beasts .  He always hated these instances. “So those geozards could be as much victims of his mutagens as the pirates were.”

 “Definitely possible.”

  He shook his head, focusing on her theory.  “So...  why The Conjunction?” he asked.

 “Mmm.”  Midna tilted her head and looked at the ceiling.  “If I were a goddess...”  She stopped when she heard Link stifle a snicker and gave him a look of mock annoyance.  It vanished as quickly as it had appeared and was replaced with a smirk.  ”If,” she continued, pointing a finger at him.  “And if there was a being I couldn’t kill, like Bellum, I’d try and trap him somewhere he could do no harm to my followers or plans.”  Her brow furrowed as she looked down at the desk and bit her lower lip.  “Which might mean making an entire little pocket dimension to stuff him in.  We have theories on how to do that even.”

 “Mmm?”

 “Making new realities.  But with our current understanding of magic, they’d be literally the size of a needle point and flash out of existence faster than the blink of an eye.  To say nothing of just how much magic would be needed to do even that in the first place.” She paused for a moment as he nodded, at least understanding some of it.  “But for a divine being, they could easily and have laws applied to it like Nayru did to your world.”

 He could see where she was getting.  “And then The Conjunction happens and the worlds collide.  The prison gets cracked just enough the inmate can peak out and try to influence things In your world.”

 “Yep.  And so Bellum starts whispering to anyone who will listen and people fall under his influence.”

 “Yep.”

  “Huh...”

 “What?”

 “Didn’t know they taught transdimensional magic and theory in The Twilight.”

 She laughed at little at it.  “I had to track down a couple people after The Conjunction. People far smarter and with more time on their hands than me.  One of them helped me get the stuff together on how our worlds are still pretty connected.” She glanced to her right then.  “I hope you have a good plan for sealing up whatever cracks are in that tomb.  ‘cause I haven’t found anything that suggests how you could.”

 “So, this could all just be for nothing.”  He took a deep breath then.  “But we have to try.”

 “You do have a plan, right?”

 “Mikau is working on it with the frost bombs we recovered, I think.”

 She nodded a little.  “If you can make it red ice with the alchemy, it won’t melt down there.  Real patch job but it should at least buy the world time.  Close it off enough that you should be fine for a while.”

 “Yeah.”

  She glanced to her side then before sighing.  “Aaaand I’m out of time.”

 “No more distraction?”

 “Yeah.”  She closed the book.  ““I won’t be available for a few days too, so really make sure you don’t do something stupid.”

 Link chuckled a little. “Well, you know me.”

 “Heh.  You still owe me for all this extra work.  And I expect you to pay in full.”  The smirk was back on her face.

 “Alright.”

 Midna composed herself, taking a deep breath and sitting up straight.  “Good.”

 “Good luck with your trip.”

 “Thanks.”  She smiled at him.  “You too.  See you later.”  She vanished from his sight then and he let go of the charm.

The waves beat against the bow of Linebeck’s ship as they traveled.  Black smoke billowed out of the stack in the back as Link sat on the floor with his back to one of the many crates that had been loaded in the hold. Knowing what was coming, he prepared himself mentally and practiced his breathing.  Deep dives had not been something he’d been formally trained in, but he had done it before.  Just not to the depth that Mikau had mentioned as they left for what was ominously named ‘The Dreamer’s Tomb.’  Before him were the elixirs he’d picked up in Windfall and another one the zora had given him and Aveil.  He remembered what the zora had said about it and picked up two other vials.  One was another Kaepora’s Vigil, while the other was a Red Ice.  He pulled another bottle from the bags he had next to him.  It was empty and particularly large, but was meant for mixing. He uncorked both of the smaller bottles and poured them into the larger one.  Once done, he mixed the one Mikau had given him, using a stick to get the last of it out and stirred it together.  After a minute, he placed it on top of his lantern and lit it to ensure it would mix properly.

 Across on the other side of the hold was Aveil.  She was essentially doing the same thing, muttering a prayer in her native tongue as she poured the syrupy blue mix into a larger bottle.  It had been the first time as well he’d seen her out of her armor. She was in leather pants and was wearing a white shirt much like the one he had, but cut more for a woman.  The sleeves were rolled up and her left wrist was wrapped in a couple bandages to help keep her from injuring her sprained wrist any further.  He noticed numerous scars along what skin was showing on her arms.  They weren’t as bad as his, but from their talks, it sounded like the desert viper’s preferred prey was the kind that wouldn’t leave scars if it managed even to land a single blow.  He’d only encountered moldorms when working with Shad in the desert and was amazed that she’d been able to kill things like the lanmolas she’d mentioned back on Windfall.

She inhaled sharply, holding the bottle to her nose that held the now pitch black liquid in it. Aveil placed it on her lantern to heat it to finish the mixing and looked over to Link.  “Amazing how similar our rituals are too,” she said.

 “You said it,” Link answered.  He looked to the scabbards that held his swords next to the bag.  “So, you never met a Chosen before me?”

 “Nope.”  Aveil carefully unsheathed one of her scimitars and produced a whetstone.  “Heard stories here and there, but nothing that could be said to be true.  You guys usually stick to Hyrule.”

 “Explains why we never heard of your sisters either.  We’re both so focused on our regions and the troubles there.”  

 “Speak for yourself. The Vipers were independent.  Not agents of Ganondorf.  At least until the war started to get worse…”

 Link instantly looked up at her.  His muscles tensed and he felt his fingers coiling around the grip of his arming sword on the floor next to him.

 “Technically we still are…” She ran the whetstone along the scimitar to sharpen it.  “We’ve been forced to take some contracts from The United Tribes though.  You know all about the counter invasion I’m sure.” Aveil let out a sigh as she continued sharpening her blade.  “You’d be surprised at what you do when your entire culture is at stake.”

 He picked up the longsword then and pulled it from its scabbard.  “I was on the Northern Front.  Against the blins.  I’d heard though that an incursion was successful though.  Captured a couple forts even.”   Link inspected the weapon carefully again before getting a vial of oils to treat the blade.  “The Chosen were meant to prevent a conflict like this.”

 “Prevent it how though?” She was watching him closely with her gold eyes.  The sound of the blade being sharpened echoed in the hold.  They heard voices and the pirates working with Linebeck discussing things.

 “Depends on who you ask.” Link started to rub the oil along the blade with a cloth.  He worked it carefully to make sure the blade was treated right.  “Some would say that we should’ve attacked the second Ganondorf proved himself a threat and could’ve united your people.  Others would say we would have waited until later when the invasion started…”

 “And you?”

 He slowly ran the cloth along further and shook his head.  “I’d have liked if we could have found a solution that’d prevented a war and avoided any bloodshed.  I was standing guard in some of the negotiations before the war.  Seeing the diplomats trying to find something but…” Link shook his head again.  “I wanted to grab them and just shout at them to find something to avoid the slaughter that was going to come.”

 “Did you?”

 Link shook his head.  “I didn’t realize just how bad it was.  How much our people hate one another…”  He ran the cloth back up the blade again.  “I got reassigned just after Ganondorf arrived to try and work through the negotiations.”

 “Tarey Town Summit?”

 “That was it.”  He coughed a little.  “I’m guessing too then you heard about the trouble.”

 “Only a little. Someone tried to kill the Labrynnan Empress?”

 “Yep.  Prevented it, but it didn’t do well for negotiations I heard.”  Link inspected the blade carefully then, watching the reflection.  He could make out his face almost in the silver diamonds along its flat sides.  “I was sent off to help oversee work with an archeological dig on the northern end of the Haunted Wasteland.”

 Aveil’s face lost its color and she stopped sharpening her blade.  “That was Arbiter territory…”

 “Yeah.  A storm had revealed some ruins and we wanted to take a look since a couple zuna traders had talked about it bearing marks of the Royal Family and the Sheikah.  Was there… Six months before The Conjunction.”

 “That mess with the monsters.”  She started sharpening her blade again.  “That was pretty profitable for us.  Talk of a swamp that could be found if you went in the right caves…”

 “Lorule.”

 “Huh?”

 “It’s…”  He tilted his head and looked at the ceiling.  “It’s another world.”

 “Really?”  She sounded disbelieving.

 “Really.”  Link looked back to her.  “That entire event with the monsters was our world colliding with the space between dimensions and a parallel to our own.”

 “You must’ve been there then.”

 “Yep.”  He finished with the oil and inspected the blade carefully again.  Each of the goron glyphs were incredibly clear now.  He held his wolf charm tightly and moved it carefully along the blade. It vibrated as it got close. There was magic, but he couldn’t tell any specifics.  “We called that entire thing The Conjunction.  Worked with some people to try and close every door we could find.”

 “Given how vast the world is, that must’ve taken months.”

 “Almost a year.  But we did it.”  He put the longsword back in its scabbard and started treating his arming sword.  “Y’know, I’m a bit surprised we’re not at each other’s throats after what you said. Working for The Ganon.”

 “We’re hunters.”  She ran the whetstone along a little more before inspecting the edge of her sword.  “We’re about as far from normal as you can get.  What with the enhancements seared into our bones and spending most of our childhoods being turned into killers of the world’s filth.” Aveil winced a little as she twisted her wrist in a way that wouldn’t have if it wasn’t injured.

 “You going to be okay?”

 Her gaze glanced up at him. “I’m fine.”  Aveil looked back at her wrist then.  “A potion won’t fix that.  It needs time.”  She inspected the bandage before looking back at him.  “Going to put us at a disadvantage, but we don’t have a choice here. Do or die time.”

 “The water at that depth is going to help a little I think.  Mikau said it’d be near freezing apart from some of the thermal vents.”

 “Been that deep before?”

 He shook his head.  “Not that deep.  But deeper than when we looked at the platform the other day.” The elixir on the lantern began to bubble and white steam started to rise out of it.  With a thick cloth, Link removed the bottle from the lantern and placed it on the floor.  “So… Do we have any idea really of what exactly Bellum is going to look like or its abilities?”

 “Well, we know the statues Linebeck picked up were squidlike.  If they were anything like the idols of the Sand Goddess or your Golden Goddesses, we could assume that Bellum’s avatars or greatest servants are like that.  Or could be like the phantom we encountered.”

 “And we don’t have anything that can scratch a phantom…”  He let out a sigh as he oiled the arming sword.  “So our goal is going to be I think more to contain this thing.  Seal it in its tomb.”

 “Which is what the frost bombs are going to be for.”

 “Yeah.  Sounded like Mikau wanted to make some undersea glacier there…  Or at least use it to damage the tomb and hold it together so that when it finally did thaw it’d make the entire place collapse in on top of him and leave him even more trapped than he already is.”

 “Mmm…”  Her eyes widened and a small smile played across her lips.  “What if he’s preparing it?”

 “Preparing how?  I’d guess with some sort of alchemy?”

 “He said he was an agent for the zoras out of Great Bay in Termina.  They could have others.  He’s been sent ahead to help prepare and clear the way.  Make sure any witches or sorcerers that come along later can do their work in peace without Bellum causing problems.”

 “That’s a pretty solid plan, actually.  Was something they taught the mages in the tower back home.”

 “Your order had mages?”

 He nodded.  “Yeah.  Yours didn’t?”

 “Sort of.”

 “Ah.”

 “Most of the time we’d have tribal witches for help with magic.  Would be worked out in the contracts usually.”  She sheathed her scimitar then and leaned back against the ship’s hull.  “There were a few times though we’d have liked to have had our own witches to do our work…  Let me tell you.  Especially when it came to setting traps for things like tracking the stalks of a desert manhandla.  Oh.  Or finding the nest of one of the thousand-year moldaraches and then holding its claws and stinger away so we can kill it quickly.”  They felt the boat dip then and rise.  There was a creaking sound as someone came down the stairs.  Link glanced over to see Medli there.  She was soaking wet and looked ready to collapse.

  “You okay?” Link asked her.

 “Just exhausted from flying between the ships,” she said.  The rito stumbled a little before collapsing over the crate Linebeck used as a bed.  “Mikau said he’d be over shortly to make sure you were ready for the dive.”

 “We’re just waiting on him now,” Aveil said.  She picked up her glass bottle with the mixture in it and eyed it carefully.

 “Drink it before you go down.  So you’ll have the most time before it works through your system and can get back up. You don’t want a case of the bends.”

 “It’s actually supposed to prevent that,” Link said.  “Mikau said it would allow us to adapt to the pressure differences like a zora does between the layers.”

 “I figured, but…  What about the time until it is worked through your body?  What would happen if it ran out when you were still at a lower level?”

 “Shouldn’t.  It should last at least two days with how thick it is.” He picked up the bottle again.  “…I’m still not going to drink this until I’m in the water though.”  Link looked back at Medli as she lay over the box.  “I don’t want Aryll to see the change.”

 “Is it that toxic?”

 “Looks it,” Aveil said. “Someone without our enhancements drinks it, they’ll be throwing up their stomach.  And lungs…  And liver…”

 “Geez.  I know that those things can be nasty but.”

 “Be happy you’ve never seen an idiot highwayman drink a venomblood potion,” Link said.

 “There’s gotta be a story behind that,” Aveil said.

 “If there is I don’t think I want to hear it,” Medli said.  “You two need anything to eat or things to prepare for the dive?”

 Link shook his head.  “Just that if we fail that we have some plan in place and word to get help.”  He looked right at Medli then.   “And… And please keep an eye on my sister.”

 “I will.”

 “Thank you.”  He slowly got to his feet then.  “Mikau say how long it would be until we reached the point to dive?”

 “Couple more hours Linebeck says.”  She eyed the black mixture in the bottle.  “So, you have the one he gave you.  What other two did you mix in?”

 “Kaepora’s Vigil and Red Ice.”

 “I can guess what the red ice does,” Aveil started, “but what does the other one do?”

 “Endurance.  Keeps me awake.  And if it’s that dark down there, it’ll be hard to see.  So it lets me see in the dark.”

 “Sounds like the ones I mixed too.”  She glanced at her armor that was hanging on a rack next to Link’s.  “That thing doesn’t have a lot of insulation, so it’s going to be really cold down there.  Then again, Termina’s waters are a lot warmer than out here.”

 “I’m more worried about the pressure.  Even with the potion.  Going to the bottom of a lake or as deep as we went for the platform was one thing. But this…”  He shook his head and looked to Medli.  “When I went for the freighter, it was deep enough I was feeling the weight of the water on top of me.  I can’t imagine what it’s going to be that far down.  Hope the armor can take it.”

 “Hope so too,” Medli said.

[hrrytomlinson]

here are a bunch of fics I’ve enjoyed and loved reading throughout the month of june. I recommend that you read these great fics in july, if you haven’t already!!

(all fics with a star are my favorites and if there are two stars then it was a favorite favorite)

1. Your Mess Is Mine (176k)**

Louis is the father to the most brilliant little boy in the world who is all Louis really needs, or at least that's what he tells himself. Harry is a gorgeous boybander fresh off a two year break and a massive scandal that's left him a little broken and more than ready to move on.

They fall in love.

2. If I Had Three Wishes (They’d All Be For You) (66k)*

When Harry Styles sets off for Provincetown, MA from his tiny hometown of Kerkhoven, MN, he’s facing an uncertain future. He’s always planned to leave, just...not like this. When he meets a gorgeous cabaret performer on his first night in P-town, little does he know how his life is about to change, or how much he has yet to learn. When they become more than just friends, Louis makes it clear he's not looking for anything serious, but at least, Harry consoles himself, they’ll always be friends. Over one extraordinary summer, Harry learns to navigate life on his own through a journey of self-discovery and sexual awakening. But when Harry’s past tragically reappears in his life, will his friendship with Louis be able to hold on?

3. Do Not Go Gentle (70k)*

When Harry Styles starts his first day as a surgical intern, he expects a lot of things: to treat patients, to observe a surgery, to feel a bit overwhelmed. What he definitely doesn't expect, however, is that the handsome guy he kicked out of his bed this morning is also an intern.

A Grey’s Anatomy AU where tensions are high, Harry and Louis are hooking up in secret, and no one has time for love. Or do they?

4. Maybe We’re Perfect Strangers (39k)

When an EDM festival in the Caribbean touts itself as a “life-changing and transformative experience,” Harry’s not too sure he buys into it. Regardless, Harry wants nothing more than to please his best friend, so he goes along for the ride. What he doesn’t expect is to fall head over heels for the festival’s organizer who Harry discovers is also the object of his best friend’s affections.

In which it takes three days under the tropical sun for two men to fall in love.

5. Through Eerie Chaos (102k)**

For as long as anyone can remember, Old Hillsbridge Manor has always been believed to be haunted. Everyone in the village agrees and keeps a respectful, fearful, distance. New in town after a bad breakup and an internship that led to disappointment rather than a permanent job, Harry Styles figures taking pictures of the decrepit building could be a great new creative project. Or at least a much-needed distraction while he searches for a job and crashes at his parents’ new house. No one warned him about the apparitions though; about the music, the laughter, the people who flicker and vanish when you call after them, the echoes of a past that should be long gone… Harry has never believed in spirits but even he can admit that there’s something weird going on. What starts as mere curiosity evolves into a full-blown investigation and soon enough, Harry finds himself making friends with an aristocrat from the 1920s and struggling with finding the best way to tell him that he’s dead.

The Ghost Hunter AU where Niall lives to prove ghosts are real, Zayn is a skeptical librarian and Harry gets caught up in a century-old mystery and catches feeling in the process.

6. Got the Sunshine on My Shoulders (124k)**

Five years ago, Harry Styles left his tiny home town to make it big as a recording artist. he didn't have much regard for what he left behind - a life, a family, and a husband, who woke up one morning to find him gone.

Now, Harry has everything he could possibly want: he's rich, famous, and adored by everyone he meets, including his boyfriend. But when said boyfriend proposes to him, he's forced to face the uncomfortable facts of his past - and Louis, who's spent the last five years returning every set of divorce papers Harry sent him. 

(or, an au based on the movie sweet home alabama.)

7. The Sweetest Incantation (40k)

Harry has been alive for decades, and yet he's never been as confused and dumbfounded. He's a witch, for God's sake. Can't get much weirder than all the magical things he's experienced throughout his lifetime. Never in a million years, however, would he have expected to be mere inches away from a hybrid.

Or Harry is a witch who's still working on developing his powers and Louis is a werecat who falls into his life and turns it upside down.

8. For Reasons Unknown (37k)**

Six years after dying, Louis is suddenly thrust back into the life he'd lost. Support Group is supposed to help him adjust to everything that's changed but he finds the experience sadly lacking. Well, except there is one curly-haired lad that's there too. He kind of makes it worth going. 

9. Mutability (108k)**

Harry and Louis meet in a book club. Life and fiction have their parallels.

10. Fool’s Gold (55k)

Leaflet for Over Again Inc.

“In relationships, there are three types of people: those who are happy, those who are unhappy but accept it and deal, those who are unhappy and in denial.

Handling this last category is our job: we are professional couple breakers.

To reach our goal, we use all means necessary.” 

Or the Arnacoeur AU in which Harry is scheduled to be married to Liam in 10 days and Harry’s mother hires Louis and his team to break them up.

11. Barefoot in Blue Jeans (24k)*

AU. Louis Tomlinson is trying desperately hard not to fall for his son’s au pair, but he can’t, for the life of him, remember why. 

12. A World We’ve Only Heard (6k)

So, where are you headed?” Liam asked, not wanting to sit in awkward silence for their journey.  It was twelve hours to Chicago, and that was far too long to sit and not chat with his fellow passenger in front of him.

“Chicago,” he answered, his blue eyes meeting Liam’s own.  “It’s home.  Been on the road for quite some time now, it’s the first time I’ll be able to sleep in my own bed in almost a month.”

Liam whistled.  “You must be pretty excited.”

The man gave a soft smile, which made him look younger than Liam initially expected; he might even still be in his twenties.  He wondered what kind of a life this man had led to look so tired until he smiled.

Or, it's 1951, Harry is the owner of a music shop, and Louis is a traveling salesman making his way back home.

13. Your Serve (4k)*

“Didn’t know you were that good, Lou,” Liam chuckled, wiping his brow, “Looks like I actually have some competition.”

Louis grinned, blowing on his nails, “Who’s up next?” He asked, as if he hadn’t just handed Liam his arse.

Harry bit his lower lip, still watching from his place on the plush burgundy leather sofa. Niall was beside him, flicking through some game on his phone. Louis smacked the paddle loudly against his hand and Harry felt something inside of him clench. His throat went dry, and his eyes pulled to where Louis was still smacking the damn paddle against his hand. He chewed on his bottom lip, watching the paddle smack, watching Louis look so casual and so coy. Harry shifted uncomfortably on the couch.

Louis picked up on his movement, pointing the paddle right at him, “What about you, Haz? You up for a good spanking?”

Or, the one where the boys take up playing ping-pong back stage, and the image of Louis with a paddle is making Harry's life difficult; even more so when he comes home to find Louis' bought a ping-pong table of their own.

14. The Wonderlands (150k)**

"Somewhere between chaos and control — these are the wonderlands."

Harry's daughter, Andy, is signed to Louis' girl band. Her path to success is marked by competition, chaos, and for Harry, a love affair.

15. What Could Have Been (2k)

Louis tries to loosen his tie from the chokehold it has on his neck. It’s really hot in here, but he doesn’t think anyone would appreciate it if he started taking off his clothes. Maybe it’s the number of people, all wool suits and hot breath, filling the amphitheater as they wait for the Grammys to start that’s got Louis feeling like it’s hard to breathe. Or maybe it’s who else is here tonight, sitting three rows up and looking even better than Louis remembers.

Harry.

Louis knew him once. Loved him. Still does if the flutter in his chest at the mere sight of him can be believed. If only Louis hadn’t thrown it all away.

find more fic recs here

[rainbowravioli]

Do you have any fanfic recommendation especially with Yuri!!! ON ICE and Voltron? I think you have a good taste because your meta analyses are always a great read. Aside from art, do you also write fics? Sorry for the many asks. Thank you!

Awwwww you flatter me anon! I never really wrote fics. Well ok, not entirely true, I wrote some pieces for friends in the past. I’m really really insecure over the idea of writing in something that’s not my native language. I still mess up English a lot. You know anxiety and all that.

Don’t apologise for sending asks, I’m always happy to get them. I’m sorry I took a while to reply, but I was compiling a list and I don’t have an ao3 account so tracking down fic I previously read is a bit difficult! 

About Voltron fics. Since I don’t engage with the general fandom much and stay in my safe corner, most of what I have to rec is Sheith. I don’t know if you ship Sheith, so here’s my non-sheith recs (if you do though, feel free to come back and ask for my recs on that)

Give Them Shelter by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)

Have some freakin’ gen fluff, you goddamn animals. In response to Day 15 of legendarydesvender’s Inktober

The paladins explore the castle and do adorable some team bonding.

Making the Rounds by Kiaxet

When Shiro has trouble dealing with his past with the Galra, he heads to engineering for company. Pidge and Hunk…aren’t quite sure what to do when he just…hovers. (Cuddles. Cuddles forever.)

Very sweet and amazingly in-character “team looks after Shiro” piece.

the fear of falling by amillionsmiles

Keith can pull off a downward spiral. It’s the kind of maneuver he does in his sleep.

Brilliant character study and backstory exploration of Keith. 

i miss you sideways daily by amillionsmiles

“I know how it is,” she sighs fondly, snatching up the empty plastic bags from the table and throwing them in the trash as they exit the cafeteria. “The three of you just zoom off to your own little world sometimes.”

“As long as we come back, right, Mom?” Katie teases, already thinking of next year, when she’ll don the orange and white uniform as well.

Her mom smiles, rising on her toes to kiss Matt’s cheek, pinching Katie’s side with her other hand.

“As long as you come back.”

(or: Katie and Pidge and her family. Before, after, and from now on.)

Outstanding, well paced, super emotional character study! The incorporation of science and technology in the story is brilliant. 

Your Princess Is In Another Castle by VelkynKarma

Part of the paladin’s mission is to spread peace and diplomacy. Allura has trained for years to be exceptional at it, in all situations.

A perfect demonstration of the importance of Allura’s role (with bonus importance of Shiro’s political role as the Black Paladin) and how utterly amazing she is.

Fragile Atlas by Pie Badger

Stranded on an unknown planet, Shiro struggles with the ramifications of Zarkon being able to take control of the Black Lion.

Shiro and Black talking and bonding over shared pain.

As for Yuri on Ice, I had a previous rec list here (x). Here’s more, under the cut because it gets really long

Complete

Like a Fairytale - lucycamui

In which Prince Victor gets swept off his feet at a royal banquet and will go to any length to find his ‘Cinderella’ Yuuri.(And Phichit is the fairy godmother who has no idea what he’s doing).

“The crown prince of the Nikiforov kingdom, infatuated with a mystery pastry chef he’s only just met. This is exactly the kind of scandalous love story my life has been missing… So, what’s he look like? What exactly is Prince Victor’s type?”

“…Sweet.”

“Well, he does make pastries.“

This is super sweet, adorable fluff! Lovely, smooth, whimsical writing style that really had me feeling like I was reading a fairytale. The whole thing just melted my heart. It’s also really funny.

Beside the Dancing Sea - lily_winterwood

He’s finally here in this lovely and quiet little beach cottage, and the rest of the year seems to stretch out infinitely before him. Time will pass, though, and it will pass faster than he realises, but in the meantime he will stop worrying about writer’s block and deadlines and not even having the foggiest clue what his next novel’s going to be about, and live.New York Times-bestselling author Viktor Nikiforov arrives in the sleepy seaside town of Torvill Cove to cure his writer’s block. After encountering local wallflower Yuuri Katsuki at a party, he discovers that this mysterious dark-haired man has a couple secrets up his sleeve.And Viktor will be damned if he doesn’t find out just what those secrets are.

This fic emotionally drained me and ruined my sleeping schedule. I adore it! It just has all these elements that I love so I may be biased, but I really feel like the writing is beautiful and evocative and the take of the mythology is very unique and heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time and the whole story and character arcs are just really well-crafted. I wish this fic was an actual original novel so that I could buy and keep in my shelf forever.

Wanted: Skating Lessons - slightlied

Hi. I am Victor and I need to learn how to skate before Saturday. My parents have been paying for me to get skating lessons every week for the last fifteen years but I never actually attended any of the lessons and I spent the money on marble busts instead. Now they want me to perform to ‘Stammi Vicino’ at their wedding anniversary on Saturday.

If you can teach me, be here at Ice Castle tomorrow at 7:27am with an extra pair of skates. I am a fast learner (well, at least my dog Makkachin is–it took me only two weeks to teach him how to roll over) so I am pretty sure I will pick it up quickly. In return, I can teach you how to say some pick-up lines in Russian or tell you some facts about my love life. Whichever you prefer. Not both, though.

Yours sincerely, Victor

PS. I’m a size 8

—

Or, Yuuri answers an ad he sees on Ice Castle’s community board.

This is adorable and really funny.

Twenty-Five Hours by 0lizzybennet0

In which Yuuri spends a 25 hour flight next to Victor Nikiforov, skating legend, and feels it might simultaneously be the best and worst thing that has ever happened to him.

This fic messed with my heart beautifully. But I must warn, this is angst based on a misunderstanding/Yuuri deciding to be a big liar and taking the lie too far, so it’s certainly not for everyone since I know it’s a trope that a lot of people really dislike. That said, this has probably one of my favourite portrayals of the Victor/Yurio relationship I’ve ever read.

Here And Human by TreacherousGnome

aka ‘Viktor is a baby when he’s tired and Yuuri can’t *believe* that doesn’t bother him more’

This fic includes several things I’m weak to - filling the gaps in between episodes we didn’t get to see, Yuuri dealing with his growing feelings, mentions of the banquet that Yuuri doesn’t get, and literal sleeping together.

not gold like in your dreams by ebenroot

“Victor, you could have let some psychopath into your apartment.”

“Oh come on, he’s not a psychopath,” Victor chides. Christophe makes a gesture with his hand that says ‘are you seriously this naïve or are you drunk at work again?’.

“Victor, you don’t know that. You don’t know anything about him. Whose name am I going to give to the police or face I’m going to describe to the sketch artist when they find your body chopped up like Hannibal Lecter’s side dish?”

–

in which Victor and Yuuri are roommates and Yuuri has a secret

This is the Penelope AU we deserve! Even though I knew the movie, this fic still kept me on the edge of my seat and messed with my emotions and had me both cheering and bursting into tears. Great pacing, great writing style. I love it enough that I’m willing to overlook that this is a villain!JJ fic.

The Tsesarevich lives! by mtothedestiel

An Anastasia AU. Victor is an orphan with no name, no family, and no memory of a time before he was ten years old. Could he really be the missing Nikiforov heir? An adventure across Europe with two conmen will lead him to the answer.

I mean, entertaining the idea of an Anastasia AU for YoI is not hard if you’re a fan of both, but I always had reservations on how to execute it properly. This fic more than succeeded! It knows where to be faithful to the original and where to deviate, fixes a lot of the problems I had with the movie and even adds actual historical context and addresses the issues that come with it.

Unworthy by heartsdesire456

5 Times Victor Overheard People Saying Yuuri Wasn't Good Enough For Him and 1 Time Someone Told Him Yuuri Was Too Good For Him

My favourite fix-it fic for the finale, with Yuuri being a very accurate insecure mess, the world accurately doubting Victor’s intentions, Yuuri’s friends being amazing, Victor being smitten and Yuuri winning gold. I’m still amazed this was written before the finale because it has this one piece of dialogue that echoes it, except it’s much better. 

improbable by themorninglark

The first words Phichit Chulanont says to Seung Gil in over a year are, “You literally have only one photo on your Instagram.

This is probably my favourite characterisation of Seung Gil I’ve ever read and the whole thing is both funny and adorable.

if love is king, who wears the crown by Crollalanza

“Second is seen as nothing,” Christophe had derided.

“But that moment you glide onto the ice, that hush of the audience, and that expectation, isn’t that worth something?”

“You speak as if you know. You used to skate?”

Past tense. It still stung, even if it was expected.

Minako knows exactly what it’s like to be at the top of your game, and she remembers the descent just as clearly.

Chris feels and Minako feels and just…my heart aches for both of them.

Ongoing

The Rules For Lovers by ADreamingSongbird

Prince Yuuri Katsuki has a duty to his country, above all else (his desires, his dreams, and his happiness included), and he knows this alliance will help to ensure the safety of his people. That’s the only reason he accepts Prince Nikiforov’s hand in marriage. The pleasant surprise, of course, is the part where they fall in love along the way. The unpleasant one, well…

That’s a long story.

Suffer with me. In the best way possible. The writing is beautiful, the relationship build is so well paced, the setting is great with its mix of modern day, alternate history, magic and technology, even the OCs are brilliant. This fic is amazing, but god does it stress me out with its cliffhangers and the plot and political intrigue and suffering! I’m holding on to that “angst with a happy ending” tag to keep me going.

My Hero, Yuuri by Abarero

At the age of 23, Yuuri Katsuki is certain he’s just a dime-a-dozen hero that will never make a difference. Little does he know that the moment his path crosses with legendary hero, Victor Nikiforov, both of their lives will begin to change for the better.

A perfect combination of two things I love - Yuri on Ice and My Hero Academia. It mashes the two universes brilliantly, managing to keep tie-ins and references to both while still being very much it’s own (amazing) thing. It has made me laugh out loud and warmed my heart and manages to keep surprising me.

Trade Your Heroes For Ghosts by Naamah_Beherit

Having endured what was probably the worst day of his life followed by a night he does not remember, Yuuri wakes up with a hangover of the century and a desperate plea for the world to forget about his existence. Alas, the world has other plans.

So does a certain Russian skater.

Canon divergence where Yuuri and Victor keep contact immediately after the banquet and Yuuri is made aware that the banquet happened. This is beautifully written. It flows so nicely, especially the dialogue. The characterisation of both Yuuri and Victor makes my heart ache in the best possible way. I’m so eager to see where this one will take me!

empty spaces between stars by astudyinrose

Victor gets just as drunk as Yuuri at the Sochi Banquet, and they disappear together after the dance-offs. They wake up the morning after with rings on their fingers, and pictures of them kissing after getting married the night before are all over the tabloids… but neither of them remembers a thing. They decide to stay married for a while for the sake of Victor’s sponsorships, and in exchange, Victor coaches Yuuri through nationals…

Do you like fake relationships, slow burn and mutual pining? Do you like going through an emotional rollercoaster of one minute melting over how adorable and romantic a moment is to screaming at your screen in frustration the next? Then this fic is the one for you!

The Power of Love by kiaronna

“The two Japanese singles medalists make a beautiful pair! Here, at the 2009 Tokyo GPF, we have the start of this power couple’s reign!”Yuuko and Yuuri dominate the singles skating competition as Japan’s power couple—except they aren’t a couple, and when their old skating idol stumbles into their personal life, everything rapidly goes downhill.

A fic that includes Yuuko and focuses on her friendship with Yuuri is already a fic after my own heart. This is Victuuri, and although it’s dipped in the angst you would expect from massive miscommunication and assumptions (and the fabulous game of “how hard can Yuuri’s anxiety misread a situation” which kills me every time), it’s still so sweet and heartwarming. Though the angst destroys me. But my favourite part of this fic is the friendship. Not just between Yuuri and Yuuko, but also between Detroit trio once Phichit comes into the picture. It’s deep, loving friendship portrayed really well.

Fatum ad Momentum by maydei

These are the moments that were lost in the rush for the Gold, and the things that were built within them. A re-evaluation of everything, from day one, the real day one. From, “Be my coach, Victor!!” And how trust, friendship, and love were built from there. Through Victor’s eyes, the story unfolds—the journey and experience of knowing Yuuri.

Really lovely Victor, really interesting take on his POV and the series’ missing moments, and the Victor in Hasetsu scenes my heart has been craving. Just, the whole fic really warms my heart and it’s an absolute joy to read.