#Worst man to ever exist but still innocent

[dinner-partys]

[emizzzleblur]

I asked my friend to place drivers on a political map based on vibes:

[gremlingottoosilly]

The only thing you want to do is... [Price x fem!Reader]

Price broke his hand on the last mission. Fortunately for him, his caretaker is just as adorable as she is eager to help him in every way.

CW and tags: Legal age gap, power imbalance, daddy kink, pervert!Price, obsessive!Price, coercion into sex, handjob (m!receiving)

Word count: 3246

This work on AO3

You’re such a sunshine, it hurts. 

John Price never considered himself to be a good man. He did what he had to do to protect his country, to ensure that big bad terrorists are kept at bay, and foreign militaries are ending up where they belong – somewhere in the ditch, with reports stating KIA an anonymous bullet drugged out of their skulls. 

His job was just that – a job, something that had to be done because he knew that someone else, someone worse, would gladly take his place in case of retirement. The captain can be considered a fucking angel compared to some people he is working with – no one would ever dare call him evil when people like Graves still exist out there, hunting for innocents. 

But you’re so fucking sweet to him, he simply can’t handle it. 

When his arm got injured, and he was forced to get on leave for at least a month – he tried to argue for something less, but Lasswell silently pointed out that he hadn’t had a break in the past five years, and she would kick him out of his own Task Force if he’d continue to refuse – he got assigned a caretaker by Kate recommendation. 

John was fully expecting some old lady, probably a retired officer or field medic. Maybe some burly man with too much time on his hands and the ability to give really nice massages under flights of bullets. Perhaps, worst case scenario, he would be assigned an actual; nurse that wouldn’t buy any of his shit – that amount of whiskey he drinks is prescribed by his therapist, smoking cigars in the apartment is a nice form of relaxation, and he actually doesn’t need help and can go in service back again less than in two weeks. 

But, the Captain got wee ol’ you, all nice and warm, and adorable, and too fucking young to have anything to do with his apartment. 

You’re nice, warm, fresh out of college, where you got some recommendations about rehabilitating veterans back into normal lives. Probably was writing a Thesis about something as dumb as “Healing PTSD through flower crowns and little touches”. You chirp your way into his heart and refuse to go out – just like Kate promised to him, you really didn’t allow him to do anything on his own. 

God, it was infuriating – how much he wanted to simply grab your shoulders and kiss you. Or kick you out and find someone else to take care of him, someone boring, someone of appropriate age. Without dumb, bright eyes and cute smiles, without enthusiasm, that can only be seen in unpaid interns and college graduates who still believe that the world is fair and nice. 

You cook his dinners and clean up his apartment – as small as it is, never having a family or any other reason to make it even slightly bigger – and you do this with such a wide smile on your face it actually makes Price question basically everything he knows about young ladies doing charity work. You must be paid triple because you fold his underwear in neat little cubes and refuse to accept his help. Always chirped something about his hand like he can’t kill a man with his teeth only. 

— I can fold my own pants, love. 

He presses his body against the doorframe of the small bathroom – looks at your ass so shamelessly bent over the washing machine. You’re folding his dried clothes, and he can only pray that you aren’t slowly resenting him for being such a disgusting old man. He knew he looked good for his age, 37 years in this world molded him into something that many young women would consider hot – even though his beard is unkept and his hair grew a bit longer since he couldn’t be arsed to do anything about it, and his dominant hand is broken. 

— We don’t want to sprain your hand even more, right? — Everythin’ is alright with my bloody hand…

— Lady Lasswell said I shouldn’t listen to you like this, sir. Sorry. 

— Little minx. 

— Me or Lady Lasswell? 

John looks at you, so eager and cheerful, and he just wants to…he can’t, of course, he stops himself before he even forms the thought because it’s dirty and you don’t deserve this, and your shy smile as you laugh softly and push the last of the laundry in the neat pile on the washing machine. 

You look too eager to please, and he has an idea – the one he will never act upon. Maybe will entertain himself later, stroking himself in some abandoned base deep in the snowy tundra, trying to remember your warmth as if a sinner like him can even comprehend your light. 

God, you got him so bad, he starts thinking about good ol’ Jesus again. You really are a side to behold, aren’t ya. 

He looks at you again – you’re so easy to please. You cook for him, the smell of home cooking that he almost forgot, all the ingredients you invited yourself to buy when he left his card for you. You didn’t think it was weird, not a single mischievous bone in your body – if anything, he was casually prompting you to go and buy yourself something nice, something as compensation for all the trouble you endured for him. 

Instead, you went out of your way to cook for him, to make him tea like he wanted it – without sugar, but with a small amount of milk poured into a cup that is probably the most expensive thing in this whole place except for his weapons. 

The problem is – John Price doesn’t really like it when people are taking care of him. Not because he is shy or insecure, god forbid, but because he knows that if a pretty young thing like you is going to show him kindness, he will take a fucking mile and make you run from him as fast as you can. He has desires, he has needs, something that pretty good girls like you should know nothing about. 

You’re so eager to please that you’ll probably jerk him off if he were to whine about his arm being broken and his inability to get himself off because of it. Which, in turn, gives him an…idea. 

Price was never a good person – he isn’t the worst guy either. He sees your reactions, that adorable heat of your face when he brushes his knuckles over your cheek in an affectionate manner. How you are biting your lips every time you have to fold his underwear, when you cook for him, and he presses his body against yours, rocking his hips just gently enough to not make his arousal obvious. John knows you like him in more ways than just one – he doubts that such a lovegirl like you would ever agree to take care of a grumpy military man like him. 

He wonders where your father is – probably out of the picture if his precious daughter is almost crying from a desire to please a guy like him. He wonders if you have a boyfriend or if you’re seeing someone else – if you’re a virgin or you already had a series of disappointing sessions with blokes that have no idea how to behave with an angel like you. 

Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be taking care of a SAS captain – did your superiors forget to tell you just how girl-hungry men like him are? That he didn’t even bother to find a wife, and the loneliness of a single life will make him fucking explode if a girl as pretty as you were in the vicinity of that perverted old dog. You must be stupid – or so insanely naive, it’s not even funny. 

He licks his lips, staring at you again. He is certainly isn’t a good guy – not the worst either, but it’s up for debate. He wants to hold you close and say all of those pretty good things he knows you want to hear. He also wants to push you as close to him as possible and just fuck that pretty girl until you’re begging for him to make you his wife. He’d always laugh at the thought of other military commanders and higher rank soldiers having sugar babies – especially the mercs and their fucking inability to keep a girl who isn’t tied to their paychecks. But now…he might just pay for your adorable pout and eagerness. 

Might make a call to that one masked arsehole and ask how the hell he keeps his questionably young wife around without breaking her legs. Visibly, at least. 

— Sir? Planet calls for Captain Price. 

You giggle when you are waving your hand around him. Shit – looks like he zoned out for a hot minute, leaving you free to stare at his face, the fantom red spreading across his skin as if he is actually embarrassed to be caught like this. He isn’t, of course, he is stronger than some girl trying to get a rise out of him. He thinks he is stronger, at least. 

You wave your hand in front of his face again, and the insects are kicking in – captain grabs your hand, not even caring that his supposed helplessness stems from the fact his dominant hand is still broken. He has no problems keeping you in place with just his left hand – and you almost look scared when you understand that you literally can’t move. 

Your innocent smile turns into a pathetic whimper when he squeezes you even more. Bruises, no doubt, are starting to form already – well, it should be your fault. Good girls are usually smarter than teasing an old dog like him, even if you’re trying to play innocence. He knows what you are. 

His future special girl that is. A wife, if he plays his cards right…and the captain was always good at poker. 

— Shite, love. Sorry. 

His smile mirrors yours – an innocent display like he didn’t almost break your wrist in his hold. He is still squeezing your hand, but not he slowly presses his lips against your knuckles – thin, dry lips gently caressing your skin in a gesture that you should never accept from a guy who kills people as a job. Who saves people, too – but a good guy with a gun is barely an upgrade from a bad one. 

He kisses your fingers and finds heaven in the feeling of your soft skin against his lips. You are certainly embarrassed, and this is exactly what he wants – an old pervert trying to get in the pants of a cute girl who just wants to take care of him without any strings attached. He just has to make this whale thing complicated, isn’t he? 

— It’s okay, sir. Just thought I lost you for a second. 

— Not a chance. 

Your smile looks a tad bit mischievous – that is, or he is simply hallucinating from painkillers he is forced to drink every morning because you refuse to let him feel pain even though he is used to it. You are acting like he is a soft doll made out of pink ribbons and soft plushes, not a seasoned soldier with his own thoughts and ideas about what he can do about your desire to please him. He might just use your eagerness – his cock has been pitching for too long without female attention, and he usually doesn’t indulge in shitty one-night stands in some sketchy pubs, but he can make an exception for now. For you. 

You smile awkwardly, still trying to get your hand out of his grasp. Little minx, teasing him like he can’t just push you on this exact washing machine and fuck you like a slut you are. Poor girl, you probably don’t even know what kind of thoughts he has in his head – even though your eyes tell him something your lips cannot articulate. 

John acts on his instincts, and they usually don’t deceive him. 

— If you want to help so badly, I can think of another way. 

— Is that so, sir? You’re going to get him in so much shit with Lasswell, he doesn’t even know how he is going to get out of it after fucking her best little protege. Would have to marry you – like it’s not his end goal, like he doesn’t want to make your care for him a tad bit more permanent. He has done so many good things for humanity, why can’t he be a bit selfish and get himself a little something to make this place feel more like home? 

He thinks of a pretty thing like you, heavy with his kids, cooking something nice and hearty in his house – not this crappy apartment, of course, he’d buy you something in the countryside, away from terrorists and public squares, with good schools and greenery all around. 

You lick your lips and tilt your head to the side. He is daydreaming again. 

— If you want to make me relax so badly, love, there is something I need help with…

Beating around the bush like this isn’t in his character – but he knows that you’re a good girl, maybe way too good and proper. He can’t just shove his dick in your hand, it would be too unpolite. 

He has to prepare you, it’s a slow sniper mission where he needs to approach you as gently and quietly as possible – he still holds your hand in his, a phantom of his lips tucked away on the softness of your skin. 

Then he places his hand on his growing erection – as awkwardly as he can operate with only using his left arm as a helper. 

Price might not be the master of espionage, but he also didn’t get his rank for not being able to do cover missions under pressuring circumstances and lie in the faces of people who trust him. Not be the best person, of course, but he gives you a choice. You have all the power now – even with his weapons safely stashed in his bedroom, he knows he won’t ever try to force you. He won’t have to. 

— Help your captain, eh? 

You’re embarrassed, shy, scared even – your hands are trembling, fingers tracing the outline of his cock with morbid curiosity he never thought he’d find this adorable. You don’t stop and don’t try to fight him – like a little animal, nervous and terrified somewhat, you’re slowly indulging yourself in something that you actually shouldn’t. 

He lets go of your hand and allows you to continue on your own – like a good girl, you only nod and slowly duck your palm in his boxers. He’d say that the way he is rock-solid just from looking at your ass and pouting on your face is weak, but he can afford to be a bit pathetic after so many weeks without the ability to jerk off. With your watchful gaze, he just couldn’t find it in his heart – or the only remaining working hand – to do something to help with his raging crush on this adorable social worker who comes to help him. 

John is many things – a war hero, war criminal, the captain, and the butcher of many who may deem his actions irredeemable. He made peace with not being the poster good guy and often dirtying his hands just to keep the world clean – and he knows that, in the end, he deserves a pretty young thing to jerk him off while he kisses your hairline and whispers sweet nothing with that beautiful accent of his. 

— This is not very… appropriate, sir.

— Bullocks, love. You’re helpin’, that’s why you’re here. 

 You’re nervous when your hand, squeezing his shaft firmly, goes up and down on his cock. You’re trying to find the rhythm in his quiet grunts and little moans, not having too much experience with pleasuring men who you like this much. It’s fear of disappointing him that makes you go wild, that approving gaze of his every time you press your soft fingers against the head of his cock and squeeze a little. 

He is throbbing in your palm, pre-cum leaking on the small of your fingers – naturally, you lick it as slowly as possible, not breaking the eye contact. 

Price moans. 

— Bloody hell, luv…so good for daddy. 

The name makes your ears burn, the desire growing in your stomach – you fight the urge to drop on your knees and take him fully in your mouth. This isn’t what he wants, you think, so you just continue to squeeze him more, making sure he is satisfied with every little movement your hand makes. You lick your lips and continue, feeble attempts at containing the rhythm with shaky fingers. 

— I just wanted to help you with your life, not…this. 

He chuckles, unharmed hand presses on the small of your back to fix you in place. You lick your lips, understanding that he is not going to let you go this easily – you don’t want to behave like this, of course, it’s against the terms of your contract and your agreement to help him without feelings attached, but he moans so deeply for you, hips are buckling to fuck the firmness of your hand like he is ready to use your moist, prepared pussy. 

God, what are you even thinking about? 

You don’t know if you should be doing this, but the captain is not letting you go – and you can’t even do anything against his wishes, can you? 

— We really shouldn’t be doing this. 

— Quiet. I’ll help you out after my hand is healed, eh? — This isn’t what I’m talking about, sir. 

— Now, let’s not use that here. I’m sir in the field, not here. 

He is manipulating you as hard as he can – he can feel the tension in your eyes and the way you’re squeezing his cock, and he wants nothing more but to simply push you harder, make you fall apart in his hold like a precious porcelain vase. You’re sensitive and shy, just perfect for a bastard like him – his only regret is that the dumb cast on his right hand won’t really allow him to relax to have sex with you properly. 

He will pay you back later – on your back, on your knees, on your tummy, moaning his name as he plunges his seed deep into you. It was about time he’d settle down with a pretty wife of his own – he can afford you, certainly. 

— I can’t call you daddy, it’s embarrassing…

Your shy words are what send him over the edge. John Price was never a good guy to begin with, but your little pleas are enough to make him cum – and it’s certainly one of the biggest sins he has ever committed. Cute girl like you shouldn’t be so embarrassed about jerking him off, but here you are. 

Your hands are covered in cum as he continues to release his seed, only sad because he wasn’t able to breed you properly – that’s the agenda for the time when he finally is freed from this dumb cast. Might just ask Lasswell for extended leave. 

— You’ll just have to get used to this, love. Not letting you go after this. 

You can only whimper when he kisses you – possessive and tender at the same time. A silent promise of making you his dumb little wife. 

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐄𝖝𝖊𝖈𝖚𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖗 | Teaser

When second chances are wasted, there's only one thing left to do.

Tags/Warnings: Dystopian AU, Werewolf AU, Alpha!Jungkook, Omega!Reader, Angst, Some fluff, romance but he's a bit weird about it pls let him cook he's awkward okay, Violence, crime and.. bad stuff.

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A/N: oh look another werewolf fic oops. BTW if you do not like any of the tags or the trailer doesnt vibe with you, don't read the story. I literally have tons of other content for you instead. Thanks.

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“Do you think that people can change?”

No. Jungkook does not believe that people have the ability to shed their dark desires once they've shown their ugly faces to the world. Once someone has lost control over themselves and their inner demons even just once, it’s over. A wolf's inner beast set free won’t be tamed again, by anyone. There is no coming back from that- and a crime committed has to be punished, especially when there’s not even any effort put into areas trying to redeem one’s self. second chances should always be valued highly if given-

Because everyone has to face judgement for their actions, and if those second chances are wasted, he is the man who will execute the fitting punishment.

Jungkook doesn't believe in second chances.

A man who’s laid his hand on his wife will never truly change his mind and put the shackles onto himself after the line has been crossed. A cheating spouse will not suddenly become loyal as a dog again just because they realize the hurt they’ve caused. A murderer can’t give back the life they’ve taken even if they desperately want to. A young wolf lost to a frenzy can’t gain back their sanity with the snap of a finger.

He is part of the new world’s law.

Violence is the punishment put on people who can’t seem to keep themselves in check even after second chances. Violence is the final answer to the worst of the worst, the people who will never change.

Violence is the thing that changes people- from being alive to no longer being a threat to anyone ever again.

To Jungkook, these people are like maggots, infesting the cities and homes of families who just want to exist and live. Jungkook is the pest control, he removes those insects, cleans out the infestations.

Saves potential victims.

“I didn’t do anything!” the man slurs a little, alcohol in his veins causing him to visibly struggle with his bodily functions, even if he wants to desperately be sober in this moment. You’re sitting in the corner still, watching, well aware not to interfere with a man sent by the people in charge of the wolf’s law to carry out the final judgement.

“Evasion. Armed robbery, twice. Domestic abuse, twice. Attempted kidnap of a child while intoxicated.” Jungkook lists, having memorized what this person is being accused of- or rather yet, has already been judged for in the past. “You’ve shown that you do not aim to change.” He says, not even looking at you once. Instead, he just walks closer, like a predator, staring down his prey. “And now, keeping an omega hostage? Not exactly the actions of a man innocent.”

“I-“ the man tries, but he doesn’t get far with his words. “-There’s- nothing happened- Tell him! Nothing happened, right-?” He asks you, who’s staring him down.

Jungkook looks at you as well now, awaiting your answer.

You’ve got a life in your hands.

Your lips part, but you can’t speak- when suddenly, the man moves again, lifts his hand as he steps towards you, ready to intimidate you into answering if needed- but Jungkook is faster, having seen enough. Even if nothing happened- yet- surely if he was to leave, you’d be another body found. “Where- where are you taking me?” the man begs to know, unable to really go against the hand that holds the back of his head by the hair, fingers tightly dug into the locks to have a secure hold on him as he drags him into a corner or the small, run down house.

In this moment, Jungkook looks like a different person to you. There’s no trace of the man who just wants to help others. The hands that force this stranger to his knees aren’t the same that helped you stand earlier that day, hold gentle and without any intention to hurt. Those eyes are dark as coal, like two black voids swallowing any reflection whole.

“I'll take you straight to hell, where you belong.” Jungkook simply answers the man, before he lets go-

And takes out his gun, to fire the first shot of many.

[kquil]

SIRIUS BLACK | 09:19 ⏤A LITTLE PIECE OF HEAVEN

SUM. : after sirius escapes azkaban he is determined to get to hogwarts but as exhaustion kicks in, he is rescued and freed, experiencing a little piece of heaven through you and your daughter...

G. : post azkaban sirius ; single mother reader au ; fluff ; sirius needs some love ; padfoot gets cuddles and kisses ; your daughter is adorable

LENGTH : 1.9k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

Sirius needed a break but he knew he needed to keep going, twelve years of being unjustly locked away in the worse prison that ever existed had helped him build up a lifetime’s worth of vengeance but the adrenaline of escaping Azkaban in his animagus form was gradually dissipating and the tremor in his limbs was becoming all too present to be ignored any longer.   

Finally succumbing to his exhaustion, Sirius fell against an aged fountain decorating the centre of a small village not too far from Hogwarts just as small droplets of rain pelted down lightly before picking up to a shower. Sirius quickly looked around before dashing forth to take shelter under the window sill of a local bakery. It wasn’t adequate but it’ll do. He’ll rest tonight and continue his journey to Hogwarts again in the morning. 

If he closes his eyes, he can pretend that the rain isn’t there for a moment and finally succumb to some sleep. The time is hard to tell from the clouds that covered most of the sky but if he had to guess, it was turning into the late afternoon so if he managed to sleep a few hours, he could still make it to Hogwarts on time. It’s been a long journey and was made longer by the people that disregarded and mistreated his animagus form, taking him for a stray. It wasn’t as bad as the treatment he received in Azkaban but the unwanted stares, abusive words and occasional kick to his side reminded him that despite escaping the prison, he was still not a free man - that was his worst torment. 

Just as Sirius begins to sink into sleep, he suddenly hears an adorable, childish voice call out, “Puppy!” opening his eyes, his head and ears perk towards a cute little girl in a pair of yellow wellies and a matching yellow raincoat running up to him with a smile. Her head was hooded but the small strands of baby hairs on her forehead clung to her face from the rain and a toothy, chubby-cheeked grin was on her face. She grins at him happily, making his head tilt in confusion - what an odd creature, cute, innocent and without an ounce of hatred in her little body, she’s a breath of fresh air. Once she had made it a few steps away from him, she waved a small hand in greeting. 

Sirius finds her adorable and nods back calmly, rising up to a sitting position, the aches of his earlier exhaustion suddenly dissipating from his bones. His response makes her burst into a fit of giggles.

“Hi puppy!” she greets more formally but also with even more excitement than her earlier acknowledgement of him. She steps forward and outstretches a hand to pet him, she’s clearly excited but her pets were gentle and welcome. It’s been a long time since Sirius had been greeted with such kindness and affection, he quite enjoys the treatment. Looking like a stray didn’t help his predicament at all as he was largely dismissed by many people but this little girl in front of him was pure light, he hopes she grows up with the same light that never dwindles but only brightens. He hopes Harry is like her, “Cute puppy! Good puppy!” She praises highly, continuing her pets as Sirius continues to enjoy the affection, touch-starved and always an attention seeker, he was given a little piece of heaven in that moment.

“Ellie!” you call out in relief spotting her in front of a large black dog and quickly making your way over, your umbrella gripped tightly in your hand. Whilst there was an original spike of fear in your heart at seeing the imposing creature, when you saw how calm and gentle he was being with her, your shoulders relaxed and a softness eased into your expression, “Honey, don’t go running off like that, okay? It’s dangerous and you made me really worried,”  

Sirius had a lot of questions. Were you her older sister? Her babysitter? You were gorgeous. He attributes the thought to not having seen anything beautiful in so long, even when running through the streets to Hogwarts a majority of women and men dismissed him which only soured their image in his eyes.   

“Sorry mummy,” there was his answer. You were the little girl's mother. It was a shocking revelation but it didn’t take away from your beauty, “but look at the puppy!” the little girl - Ellie - squeals happily and Sirius cracks a smile, her merriment was contagious. Was that the result of a truly loving mother, he wonders. 

You smile lovingly at your daughter, her love for animals a characteristic you both shared, “he’s quite the handsome fella, isn’t he?” with his fur in the way, Sirius blushed freely from your compliment. A mangy mutt like him? From a stunning woman like you? 

“He’s my friend now!” Ellie smiles and giggles when Sirius noses her cheek affectionately. It’s been too long since he was last considered a friend and to be the friend of this sweet girl was an honour. She’s an adorable girl that makes his heart sing from the vast extent of her wholesomeness. She is definitely the product of love in its purest form. How lucky your husband must be to have such a beautiful wife and daughter, there was a slight pang of jealousy in Sirius’s heart, however. If the war never happened and he never went to Azkaban would he have had a family like this too?

“That’s wonderful news honey but we need to return home quickly before you catch a cold,” you pointed out, the worry furrowing your brows. 

“I want Puppy to come too…” Ellie whines looking down at her wellies and biting her lip as she clutches adorably at the hem of her raincoat. It was a cute display but Sirius highly doubts you would allow that to happen…

“You think so?” you hum in contemplation, shocking Sirius when you didn’t outright protest the idea; not everyone is open to taking in strays. What is this sudden luck and kindness he’s happened across?

“Please mummy, please!” Ellie pleads with her biggest puppy eyes and a wobbly bottom lip. 

“He does seem like a good boy…” you ponder aloud as Sirius’s heart races with hope, “alright, he can come home with us,”

“Yay! Puppy! Come home with us!” Sirius is pulled into a hug around the neck from Ellie’s little arms and savours the short moment happily. This type of warmth is more pleasant than from any crackling fire; he wants to appreciate the feeling as much as possible. 

With Ellie at his side and you on his other, the two of you lead him to your home. For tonight, Sirius will be greedy and selfish. He can allow himself this much after twelve years of torture. It’s been far too long since he last had a warm and welcoming place to stay.  

Once home, you already knew you had a lot on your plate, especially with your new guest. Your first order of business was getting you and Ellie dry but a simple spell could fix that. Your new furry friend needed a more thorough washing, however. In your occupied state, you missed the shocked, wide-eyed stare Sirius gave your wand but he quickly blinked his shock away when you led him to the bath. Thankfully, Ellie was up for washing her new friend clean. It took a little longer as you wanted to give him a thorough wash but that was anticipated, at least the activity helped you work up an appetite. 

Rid of his annoying fleas as well as all the mud and dirt his fur had accumulated, Sirius guiltlessly followed Ellie around your cosy home while you made a start on dinner. It was comforting to know that you were a witch too but as Ellie gave him the grand tour of each room, especially hers, Sirius came to notice the absence of a very important male figure in the home. Dinner was soon served however, and Sirius hadn’t had the chance to ponder on the issue too long.

“Mummy’s cooking is the best, right Puppy?” Ellie announced mid bite, her cheeks swelled up like a greedy chipmunk as she looked down at Sirius, who barked in return. There was no dog food in the house so you just gave him sausages, mash and vegetables too. It was heavenly finally being able to have a nice warm meal.  

Dinner was over sooner than Sirius expected, he had quite the appetite so he finished his food quickly. Noticing this, Ellie saved him one of her sausages and fed it to him herself. 

“You’re such a sweet girl, Ellie,” you praised your daughter for her kindness as Sirius licked her face in thanks. She really was a sweet girl. 

Soon enough, Sirius found himself curled up under a warm blanket with Ellie who insisted on cuddling him by the fireplace. While Ellie petted and kissed his head under the blanket they shared together, you sat on the couch embroidering a handkerchief whilst telling a whimsical story about fairies, trolls and an adventurous knight, smiling as Ellie’s yawns and sleepy mutterings increased by the minute. Sirius noticed it too and anticipated she would be falling asleep soon, confessing that he was also on the way to a peaceful night’s rest. 

As your story came to an end, Ellie knew you were soon going to lead her to bed and tried to prolong the night as best as she could with a distraction, “Mummy, give Puppy kisses too,” 

You knew exactly what your daughter's ulterior motives were but complied with her request anyway, “Alright dear,” you set aside your embroidery and came to kneel down beside the two. Sirius’ heart was beating rapidly in his chest and he halted his breathing as he watched you lean in and pepper him with kiss after kiss after kiss, just like your daughter. Heavenly. Sirius was so happy he didn’t protest returning to your home because he had never felt so at peace. For a blissful moment, he wasn’t Sirius the falsely accused murderer of his best friend, he was just Puppy. The new identity was freeing and Sirius wished he could live like this forever. 

Cuddling and kissing him made Sirius blush furiously under his fur as he practically melted into your lap loving the attention and affection. 

“Maybe we should keep him,” you voiced, smiling fondly as Sirius picked his head up from your lap, “we need a man around the house,” Sirius felt both equal amounts of happiness and sadness all at once. As much as he has grown to love you both in the short time you’ve spent together, he knows he can’t stay longer than tonight; Harry is waiting for him and Peter needs to be exposed for his evil deeds. Sirius is only allowing himself tonight to be selfish and that was it. He can’t risk endangering the two of you either; he needs to leave as soon as possible. 

“Yes yes yes! Puppy stays!” Ellie cheers, her sleepiness evident in that her hurrahs were much more demure than they were earlier that day. 

“We’ll have to name him though, we can’t call him puppy forever, dear,”

Ellie ponders to herself with the cutest expression, “Black!- No! Noir! That means black in french mummy,” she finalises. 

“I see I see, that seems like a fitting name for our handsome friend,” you affectionately stroke Sirius’s head as he chuckles to himself, how ironic this whole situation was. 

A/N: im a sucker for domestic, single parent au's and i just want to comfort my comfort characters so here you go!

NAVI.

[deathbxnny]

hello! can you do headcanons of jing yuan, blade, dan heng and luocha with a nilou like s/o? not necessarily a dancer could be any other art that embodies beauty, just her peaceful nature, positivity, innocense and kindness and wanting to make other's happy? thank you alot!

-----♡

A/N: Hello! Thank you for the request! I absolutely love the idea! It's so cute!<33

Content: Established relationship, fluff, dancer reader, romance, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread!))

-----♡

》Jing Yuan

This man is absolutely whipped for you, that's for sure. He loves absolutely everything about you.

Your innocence and kindness is exactly what he needs as a general with hard and long hours of work. You motivate him to give his all and best everyday. You motivate him to wake up in the mornings with your gentleness and positivity. Your existence motivates him to breathe.

He is proud to have you at his side, always flaunting you to his coworkers and showing you off at any given moment. Who would not be jealous of the general, when he has such a great s/o?

Jing Yuan adores your dances more than life itself at times. He attends absolutely every single performance, no matter how nusy he actually is, and enjoys every second of it.

In fact, he makes sure everyone watches them as well with his influence, promoting your art so well, that absolutely everyone in the Xianzhou Luofu knows about it.

He'd do anything for you and makes sure to keep that pretty smile on your face no matter what.

-----♡

》Blade

He swore to himself, that he'd protect your innocence and positivity with his life. Whilst he sees nothing positive or good in the world anymore, you motivate him to continue living everyday and therefore finds it only fair to protect you from the horrible truths of this world.

You're so different than him and somehow, that makes you two work. You bring warm light into his dark, cold world and he's more grateful for that than he'd ever dare admit. You keep him sane and relaxed on even his worst days with your naturally peaceful nature and he loves you for it. It's what drew him to you in the first place.

He enjoys watching you perform a dance for him, mainly because he's too possessive over you, to let anyone else see it. It is something only for his eyes to see. No one deserves to see you dance, except for him.

Watching you move so smoothly with the music keeps him at ease and makes his troubled thoughts and soul still for even just a moment.

If you look closely, you might even catch a small smile on his face, as his dreamy eyes watch you move.

-----♡

》Dan Heng

At first, he was a little confused and unimpressed with your positive and happy nature... yet overtime, he began falling in love with you for it.

You didn't mind how quiet or reserved he was. You didn't judge him, for not really knowing how to be in a relationship. Instead, you were patient and gentle with him, always so peaceful and kind.

You coaxed him out of his shell with your sweet words and kind gestures, making him feel a warmth he never thought he'd ever deserve to feel again.

He watches your dances with wonder in his eyes, his heart thumping wildly in his chest, as he's completely unable to look away. You take away his ability to breathe with your beauty and dance alone and he doesn't mind it at all. In fact, he'd die, if it meant to see you dance just for him one more time.

He protects you with his life, knowing the cruelty of the world too well to ever dare lose you.

-----♡

》Luocha

The stern doctor and happy-go-lucky assistant/dancer duo people really need.

Your positivity and want to help everyone comes in perfectly here. You sometimes help him out at work, mostly calming and caring for patients, as they receive their treatment.

You keep him calm and focused on very stressful days, always there to motivate him and remind him how far he's come. He truly couldn't do it all without you.

He especially loves it, when you also take care of him as well with your gentle and peaceful nature. Luocha thinks it's nice to be the one taken care of for once and you are more than willing to do so.

Absolutely protects you from more gory sights at work and doesn't let anyone harm you. Your innocence and kindness is something he deems as special in this dark world.

He loves watching your performances alot. They give him peace and a break from all his troubles. If he could watch you all day for hours on end, then he would, without hesitation.

-----♡

A/N: I hope this was okay! I'm barely awake rn, so I'm sorry if there are many mistakes! Thank you again for the request!

[candyhoiic]

Thoughts of Adam and Lilith switching places in cannon lives rent free in my head ever since this post

I just want Adamsapple to exist cries

Plus, it would be so interesting to see how the smallest changes like a simple character swap can change cannon. Like I know we don't actually know why Lilith left yet, but with Adam in her place I imagine he left because he couldn't take watching his descendants be slaughtered every year. Since in my mind this version of Adam would actually care for his descendants, and so, to see them slaughtered every year would leave him feeling bitter towards Lucifer who allowed the exterminations in the first place. Putting their relationship on the rocks and probably ending with an explosive fight between the two.

I imagine Adam would eventually snap after eons of watching sinners get hunted down like it was a bloody sport, and threaten to fight back against Heaven if Lucifer wouldn't. And while Lucifer would start out level headed I imagine Adam would still be able to bring out the worst of him with the two of them feeding off of each other until the fight became more explosive.

Eventually leading to Lucifer accusing Adam of being selfish and not thinking about Charlie, which would only serve to piss Adam off more. With him arguing back that he was thinking of her more than he was. Launching on a tangent of how there was no way Charlie would want to live in a world where her people are continuously slaughtered. Going on to mention how she was a dreamer just like the man he fell in love with before implying how Lucifer wasn't that man anymore.

Adam: The kid's a dreamer! Something she sure as hell didn't get from me! No, she got it from the man I fell for and ended up falling with! Not whatever the fuck you are now!

Lucifer: Then, maybe you never really knew me because guess what?! This is who I am, who I've aways been!

Adam: ...ya know what? You're right. I guess I'm just the fucking idiot here again.

Adam would storm off uncaring of Lucifer calling after him while Lucifer wouldn't make any actual attempt to follow too tired and afraid. Lucifer would eventually retire to their room, figuring Adam would come back when he settled down since this wasn't their first fight. Only for Lucifer to wake up to Adam's cold, empty side of their bed. Well empty for all except Adam's wedding ring sitting innocently on top of his pillow with a note placed under it. Reading simply: I'm done.

[lvrhughes]

Can't Sleep Without You | N. Hischier

pairing: Nico Hischier x gn!reader (I believe)

word count: 2k

warnings: none?

summary: After you and Nico break you can’t sleep, til you show up at his place after a night out

not my gif!

“I’m done! We’re done! We cannot do this anymore, there’s too many fights, we’re barely together anymore.”

The words were haunting, being yelled at you by the man you thought you’d marry. Two weeks, it had been two weeks since the breakup, the worst two weeks of your life. You couldn’t sleep, you could barely eat, your friends were being ghosted, and yet, when the devils games would appear on your tv, he looked fine. 

It broke your heart a little more every time you would see pictures or videos of him, smiling and happy, while you were barely living. Why did he deserve to be happy now? Why did he get to not mourn the death of their relationship?

Yet behind the screens, he was as bad as you. The team tried endlessly to get him to come celebrate the win, but he’d never, choosing to stay in. trying to sleep away all the pain he caused, he wished he’d held on, wished he tried to work everything out, instead of just leaving. 

He’d stalk your friends on social media, seeing if you’d been with them at all, for two weeks, nothing. It was like you didn’t exist on social media, but then the third week, alone in his apartment, scrolling through instagram, he saw you again. Smiling, dancing, having a good time. All while he wallowed in his room, alone, his team out celebrating. He tried to see where you were, seemingly the same bar the team had gone to. 

When the notification of your best friend went live, he never clicked anything so fast, the shaky camera pointed at you when he joined, jumping around, dancing, he could see his team in the back, watching Dawson walk up to you. The music was too loud to hear anything else, but he could tell it wasn’t a completely innocent sentence when a blush covered your cheeks. Jealousy filled him quickly, he knew he had no right but he couldn’t not. So he decided if you were going to move on he was too, he changed into something more appropriate for going out and left. The bar was just down the street from him, only a couple minute walk. He made it there fast, with ease, slipping in to find his team. 

“NICO!” Jack was the first to see him and share his excitement at seeing the captain. That made everyone’s head turn, smiling at him, some even running to hug him when they spotted him. When his entrance settled down, he saw Dawson sitting with you, talking, flirting, he couldn’t tell the difference with the jealousy that filled him.

He could faintly hear your laugh over the excruciatingly loud music, seeing your head fall back. To him you were still the most gorgeous person he’d ever seen, it pained him to see you happy with his teammate. He was mesmerized staring at you until you felt his eyes on you, turning the catch him staring. He could see the way the joy, happiness, fell from your eyes at the sight of him. His heart shattered at how your eyes fell when you saw him, making him want to turn out and leave, never to be seen again, shamed for what he did. 

He saw Dawson say something to you, it was quiet, more whisper, then moved his arm around your waist, leading you to your friends. The tears filled your eyes quickly when they caught sight of Nico, his hair falling perfectly just like you’d remembered, his eyes shining in the dim light. Seeing him through all the effort you’d put into trying to move on out the window, seeing him made you need him almost more than you ever had. The sleepless night, the inability to eat feelings returning. 

Dawson held you tight against him, bringing you back to your friends. Raising his hand to wipe away your tears, his touch was gentle, almost enough to make you cry more. 

“I’m going to take her home, okay?” Dawson yelled to your friends when he got close enough, grabbing your bag from the table they had. They nodded, seeing Nico in the distance, the tears on your face, connecting the dots, they knew you shouldn’t be here anymore. 

When you turned around to try and find Nico one last time, he was gone. He was practically running home, fighting the urge to get you back, tell you how he regrets everything, fighting tears while he ran. He made it home in about a minute, slamming his door opened and closed fast, collapsing on his bed. 

Dawson had led you out to his car, asking for your address.

“No.” That elicited a very confused look out of Dawson.

“What?”

“Bring me to Nico’s please.” your voice was barely above a whisper, almost ashamed to ask. He just nodded, starting his car and pulling out of the parking lot, he knew Nico could get you home if needed. 

It was a short ride to Nico's, taking only about three minutes, you got out quickly, thanking Dawson for the night. He nodded, repeating your thanks, letting you run inside. You couldn’t bother waiting for the elevator, running up all the stairs instead. 

When you made it to his door, slightly out of breath from the stupid number of stairs, you froze for a minute partially to catch your breath, practically to shake away the nerves. You stood there for at least two minutes, the tiredness truly catching up to you now. You knocked on his door, three times, just like you used to. 

He appeared at the door a few seconds later, his hair messy and his clothes trussled. Clearly just woken, you felt a bit bad, but then again, he broke your heart. 

“Y/n?” He sounded so confused and looked almost more. It was enough to make you have to hide a giggle when he asked that. 

“Hi.” 

“Why are you here? You should be at home, asleep.”

That was less of a question, more of an annoyed statement. It got on your nerves quickly, who was he to refuse to talk? He had to have gotten home only ten minutes ago, he couldn’t have been that asleep. 

“Okay, you know I was trying to be nice. You broke me. I just needed to know why? The minute I finally started moving on, you showed up. You show up and ruin it all again. I finally went out for the first time since you broke up with me and then you had to come and find me. Why? It’s not fair I was finally getting somewhere, I thought tonight maybe I’ll finally get a good night's sleep.”  you slowly trailed off at the end your words becoming quieter from your original outburst. 

“A good night's sleep?”

“I haven’t slept in weeks, Nico.”

“You need to sleep.”

“I can’t!”

He looked confused again with your answer. Of course, he could sleep fine, but you got the shit-end of the break-up. You couldn’t do anything but Nico was playing fine and sleeping well. That’s what you thought, he was not as perfect as you thought, he could sleep though. 

“What do you mean you can’t sleep?”

“I haven’t been able to sleep since you broke up with me.” the words were mumbled and quiet, he barely heard them but they broke his heart.

“Baby-”

“No you can’t do this! I came to get closure! Not to fall for you again.”

“Come inside, please.” You shook your head, not trying to fall back into him. He didn’t take that as an answer, gently grabbing you and pulling you in. melting into his arms when he pulled you further into him to close the door.

“You need to get some sleep, baby.” he was quiet with his words, seeing the way your eyes were closed, leaning into him. 

"Please, hold me. I can't sleep without you anymore." 

He agreed, leading you to his room, just like before. He did pull you off him to hand you one of his t-shirts to sleep in, then turning to allow you to change. When you were done you fell onto his bed, curling into your regular spot, waiting for him to join you. His heart soared at the sight he’d been missing for weeks. He slid under the covers with you, letting you cuddle beside him, fitting snug against him. 

In the morning you woke up without Nico beside you, immediately causing you to panic. What if this was a huge mistake? What if he just thought you were really desperate now? 

Slowly you got up, walking to his kitchen, where you assumed he’d be. He was leaning against his counter, sipping a cup of coffee. 

“I made you a cup.” he said, pointing towards the steaming cup on the counter. You walked over to it quickly, taking a sip. The exact way you liked it, he’d remembered. 

“Thank you.” 

He just nodded, continuing to sip his coffee. It made the room tense and you very anxious. 

“Do you regret letting me sleep here last night?” The words made Nico choke on his coffee, not prepared for the question yet. 

When he stopped coughing, you rubbed his back to help calm him, he answered.

“No, not at all. That’s the best sleep I've had in weeks, since we broke up.”

The words shocked you, taking them in for a minute. He was quick to continue when you didn’t say anything.

“I regret breaking us up, I regret letting you leave that day. I should’ve tried harder”. 

“Nico, baby, it’s okay-”

“It’s not okay, I hurt you, so much. I was stupid i hurt both of us, you should cuss me out and never come back, but you came back. I swear if you’ll take me back, I’ll never hurt you again. I miss you so much, God I miss everything about you. Your kisses, your hugs, the way you hold me in your sleep.” there were tears in his eyes by the end of his rant, begging to take him back.

“Neeks, I love you.” you wiped away his tears. “Of course I’ll take you back babes.”

He was ecstatic when he heard the words, practically dropping his coffee to pick you up, spinning you around, peppering you with kisses. Your laughter filled the room, music to Nico’s ears. 

“God, I’ve missed that sound.” he mumbled, placing you on the ground and nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. His scruff tickling your skins, making you giggle again, making him nuzzle more into you.

“Neeks!” you laughed, pulling away from him. He followed you back, leaning with you. 

The rest of the day was spent in bed together, catching up on the missed sleep, cuddles, and kisses. Sleeping the day away, only waking when there was knocking on Nico’s door. Nico slowly got up, complaining while he walked to the door, his slow pace giving you time to follow him. When he opened it, the boys waiting at the door were quick to push  they’re way in. gasping and grinning when they either saw or walked into you, like Jack. 

“What are you idiots doing here?” Nico’s voice was unimpressed, annoyed at his team’s unwanted arrival. 

“You wouldn’t answer your phone, you were scaring us!” Jack explained, making point of the fact Nico didn’t have his phone on. 

“Yeah probably because I was sleeping!”

“Sleeping with Y/N!” The boys were quick to put two and two together to get that conclusion and simultaneously start chirping him. 

“Shut up!” Nico finally yelled, bringing you to him to cover your ears before. 

“Now, if you’d leave so we can go back to sleep,” he shooed everyone to the door.

“We were going to go to a movie, did you want to come?” Dawson finally asked, revealing why they had been there in the first place.

Nico looked at you, you just shrugged your shoulders, letting Nico choose. 

“No, thanks though, now please leave.”

Nico was quick to close the door in their faces before turning back to you, picking you up and bringing you back to his room. He threw you onto his bed, sliding beside you right after, cuddling with you again, luring you back to sleep. 

[shakespeareallanpoe]

Talks With Father

Word count: Idk

Warnings: none, unless you're terrified of Bruce being a good dad 😕

Dedication: @purp1e-ph0enix & @bradshawsbaddie

_____________________

"You mention her often."

Damian turned to look at the vigilante beside him, his finely tuned senses and years of knowing his father filling in everything Batman didn't say. There was no prompt, no segway into this conversation. They were sitting in the Batmobile while the computer program inside was rebooting and nothing but comfortable silence between them only a few seconds previously. It was offered as conversation starter and Damian knew Batman wouldn't push. In his own bat-way he was telling his son he was aware- the greatest detective in Gotham City was always aware.

Damian didn't put much stock into his father's experience with relationships, and they both knew Batman wasn't offering advice. Damian could leave it there. Batman wouldn't tell anyone and his son knew he would likely never mention it again. Damian almost took it, and if it was a couple years ago he would've. But since he had joined and left the Titans, Damian had seen the effects of allowing relationships to deepen beyond the surface level his league training always taught him to maintain. Being back with the league as their leader, he saw just how inhuman they had expected him to be. Damian rarely got the genuine moments his younger self always scoffed at, and he knew his mental and emotional health wasn't benefitting from it.

It's how he found himself occasionally visiting Gotham. At it's worst it was a filthy city that reeked of crime, and never failed to have some crisis or another. Damian was a hero here. He knew he was violent and brash but that's what the city needed when the police failed. Gotham always needed him for who he was, and Damian remembered telling his father these things go both ways. He needed Gotham as well. To take a break from the league, when that world got so toxic it became hard for him to breathe. Hard to see the man in his mirror.

Only Alfred and his father knew. Of course they knew. But Batman put a great deal of effort for the sake of his son, and allowed Damian to come and go as he pleased. It was hard for the man with trust issues and severe paranoia, but a week before he passed Dick had spoken to Batman about letting Damian go. That he would fly true if he was given the chance to spread his wings. And everyone knew the bat was trying to live by his first son's final wishes.

It didn't weigh on Damian's mind for long. His relationship with his father had greatly improved, to the point that they now worked together during Damian's visits. His father already knew. And self growth could only make a person stronger for it, so why not?

"I want to know how she is. She has yet to leave my... heart."

Batman exhaled, a sign that he'd heard his son's even response. Damian never reached out to his old teammates, but he did occasionally inquire as to how they were after the spilt. Batman kept tabs on them for these moments, and while he knew little about Raven, what he did know he always shared. Despite it hardly ever being good news.

"Raven is strong. She is with Kent at the moment and doing all she can." Batman's dark voice offered.

Damian didn't hesitate. "Just because the burden is carried well does not mean it is deserved. She is innocent, suffering, and still trying to save those who are the same. Magic is the only difference between the people and their hero."

Batman knew he and his son's tendencies towards philosophical pessimism would only darken their conversation. This world was a mess and those who fought for justice rarely got justice of their own. His first son was dead. His biological son existed because someone he cared for took advantage of him without remorse. But Batman, in his heart, desperately wanted the best for the youth of his city. All the children who could have lives he never could if only he sacrificed himself in every way for his city.

Looking across the Batmobile which had 4.33 seconds left in it's update, seeing the face that looked so much like his own at the age when he was lost in his determination to become the hero his life never had, Batman smiled softly at his son. "That doesn't mean she isn't cared for."

Damian, halfway lost in his own mind, truly a mirror of his father, had no response. Raven deserved so much more. She worked so hard and never gave a sign of the pain and pressure she had to endure. This world was a mess and those who fought for justice rarely got justice of their own. Damian's oldest brother was dead. His father hated him in the beginning because he was the physical reminder of how cruel the world could be. But Damian, in his heart, desperately wanted the best for Raven. He wished he could rewrite her fate, which seemed to be carved with blood in the stars, and give her the peace she sacrificed herself for in every way for her world.

Damian eventually found his own voice breaking himself from his musings, spilling from his mouth as if it took no thought. "Please help them. Save her."

Batman nodded, his finely tuned observation filling in everything Damian didn't say. The older man silently handed his son the keys to the Batmobile and moved to get out of the driver's seat. "Damian. The things that mean the most to us are the things we sacrifice everything for. You both care for the world and one day, you have to believe that the world will give it back to you."

"Tt. That sounds like a Hallmark marathon in the Wayne Manor was finished recently." Damian shot back lightly, grabbing the keys with a grin.

"It might have been." Batman replied evenly, holding the driver's door open while his young superhero climbed in. "I expect the car in perfect shape when it inevitably returns past your curfew."

"High expectations. We'll see what the criminal underbelly of Gotham has to say about that. Could be a rough night."

Batman stood back from his car in anticipation for his youngest's depart. "Shouldn't be a problem then. But if you want your first date to be a seaside picnic on the Wayne Beach with Alfred's cookies, I look forward to seeing the Batmobile in good shape tomorrow morning."

Damian blushed- only faintly- as only a teenager talking to his father about his crush would. "Perhaps your Hallmark movies do provide a potential benefit, however miniscule and insignificant."

Batman smiled almost teasingly. "There's no need to suffer through the cinema you don't enjoy. I've already collected quite the list of romantic outing ideas I think the two of you would like."

"Father! Do not meddle with my life!" Came Damian's indignant and completely flustered response from the interior of the giant black vehicle. He didn't want to know how long his father had been collecting romantic ideas for a potential future he may have with his Raven.

Batman snorted. "Alfred's idea. Told me to put my time in the theater room to good use. Kate is the one who went out of her way to buy Raven a series of date night dresses. I believe she called them 'adorable' in her description to me. Do you think Raven would look suitable in them?"

Damian in that moment was busy thanking every god he didn't believe in that the blackout window was up to hide his scarlet face as he violently shifted the car into gear and raced out of the batcave.

Do NOT think about Raven in an adorable purple dress

Do NOT think about Raven in an adorable purple dress

[zeruby16]

extra credit- kim jiwoong

18+ MDNI

genre: smut, fluff, romance

summary: when you're in dire need of extra credit after butchering your classical literature paper, you ask your class ta, jiwoong, for help.

word count: 3.3 k

warnings: afab! reader, dom jiwoong; usage of pet names (sweetheart, angel, good girl); cursing; oral sex (giving); fingering; penetration; protected sex (always use protection); slightest degradation kink; slight sir kink; slight exhibitionism; please let me know if i missed any!

notes: um..hey y'all so i'm back. trust me when i say this took me like three months to write because being in school made me so uninspired😭 i had major writers block and still do, but my bestie motivated me to finish this. anyways, i have not grammer checked this at all, so please spare me. i hope you all enjoy and i'll try to write more if i can!

REMINDER: 18+ MDNI

you hated the word validation, yet it’s all you’ve ever wanted.

in school, at home, with your friends, you craved hearing people compliment your hard work. 

it made you feel like you were in ecstasy.

so you’d be damned if you got a b in classical literature. it would ruin your perfect gpa, your reputation with your experienced professors, and your sanity.

you needed an a. you were going to get that a.

your main obstacle was an analysis paper on pride and prejudice. 

pride and prejudice for god’s sake.

everything would’ve been fine if jane austen wrote in understandable sentences, but here you were struggling to comprehend how the hell elizabeth fell for mr. darcy. 

the paper was due today and you submitted whatever you could online, but you remembered your professor’s words.

“every project will be graded by me, every paper will be graded by your teacher’s assistant, kim jiwoong.”

kim jiwoong was well-known throughout your university. he was a graduate student who helped out all of his previous professors. it was very noble of him.

he was also the most beautiful man to exist. any girl dropped at his sight, including you.

you were already familiar with jiwoong.

since his previous professors were in the same major as yours, you already had him as a ta for another class.

the other class, the english renaissance, was the worst class you’ve taken. 

you had done perfectly well on every assignment, but then your final happened to be cumulative and you could not remember an ounce of anything pertaining to shakespeare. 

you caved and confided in jiwoong as you always struggled with cumulative finals. then, you scored a 96 on the final.

half of it was on shakespeare. you should’ve failed, but you always got an a.

you knocked on the door twice before waiting for his response.

“come in!”

once you opened the door, you were met with his focused eyes. 

jiwoong was one of the nicest people you knew. he helped anyone who struggled left and right. he even offered tutoring to the students who couldn’t comprehend what went on in lecture.

you had no doubt that he was probably reviewing someone’s paper right now, so they could submit a better product. 

“what can i do for you y/n?” you noticed the slight change in his posture, he had to have a clue as to what you were planning.

“i submitted my analysis paper, but i wanted to stop by and mention how i didn’t comprehend anything from the book,” your eyes contained a hint of dejection. 

“i can’t do anything about it, you already submitted it,” he sternly said, you could see his hand gripping the pen he was using harder.

“i know, but i wanted to apologize beforehand. austen’s works are complex and i read the book three times, but i couldn’t conjure anything in the paper,”

“i tried jiwoong, for weeks, but nothing.”

he sighed while leaning back on his chair. it was working.

“you never struggle with papers,” he mentioned suspiciously.

“sometimes i do, it’s rare though. i’ve only ever struggled once throughout college,” you emphasized. 

“what are you trying at y/n?”

“i was just wondering if there was an opportunity for extra credit,” you innocently asked. you wanted him to give in. you needed him to give in.

he pushes back his hair in distress, while staring you up and down. he may have only dealt with you once, but he knew your ruse.

“you know how wrong this is,”

“jiwoong, i am an adult, you’re an adult. there is absolutely nothing stopping us,” you moved closer to his desk, leaning on it while placing your arms down.

“my integrity will,” you chuckled.

you neared his face as you whispered in his ear, “it hasn’t stopped you before.”

“god the things you make me feel,” he muttered under his breath. you moved away from him, enjoying the teasing.

you walked backward toward the door silently begging for him to stand up. to come rush by your side and help you.

you were in dire need of his assistance.

“do you know how hard it is to see you in class?” he started, standing slowly from his chair.

“to see you laughing with those idiotic boys? to see them staring at you like they have a chance?”

jiwoong makes his way towards you, backing you into the door.

“i’m only having fun,” 

“they can’t handle you y/n. you’re the smartest one in your batch and your beauty is unmatched. they don’t stand a chance,”

“and you do?” you taunted, finding his eyes and then his lips.

his hands made their way to your waist, pinning it against the door. you couldn’t help but let out a small grin at your silent victory.

“of course i do sweetheart, i’m the only one who’s made you scream,” you felt your legs give up on you as his words went straight to your core.

“i’m the only one who’s heard your beautiful moans and small whimpers while you lose yourself on my cock,” his fingers graced your breasts under your shirt.

his touch was cool, but all it made you do was burn. 

you closed your eyes in delight. you forgot how deliberating jiwoong made you feel. it was why you longed for him so much after he helped you the first time.

“what happened? cat caught your tongue?” he smirked seeing you shiver under his touch.

“you act all high and mighty when we both know how easily i can change that.”

“prove it then,” you blurted, wanting to feel his everything and needing him desperately.

“i need you to say it louder sweetheart,” he caressed your face, pulling you closer to him.

“prove it,” you spoke and his lips took yours. he kissed you like you had been apart from years. 

his hands bunched up the skirt you were wearing and he slightly lifted, pausing the kiss to see the view before meeting your lips again.

“you got soaked at the thought of you taking me?” he teased, your face flushed red, avoiding his eyes.

“look at me princess,” his hand forced you to meet his eyes. he was anticipating your answer. 

“did you? did you fantasize about me?” 

you whimpered under his touch, feeling utterly embarrassed at his words, yet you wanted more.

“yes sir, i thought of you,”

“no wonder you couldn’t write your damn paper, you were too busy thinking about getting fucked.”

jiwoong tightened the hold on your waist and guided you towards his desk, stopping when you sat yourself on top of it. 

he pulled away from your lips as he quickly discarded your shirt somewhere in the office. you tossed your bra somewhere, signaling how you wanted his kiss everywhere.

he proceeded to ravish your chest, bruising you as much as he could. it was as if he wanted to prove to others how he was the only one who deserved you.

you started to feel his body under his shirt, while pulling on his hair every so often, earning grunts from him.

annoyed by his shirt, jiwoong lifts it off of himself and leans further towards you, deepening the kiss.

your hands started to reach for his cock, caressing it over his pants. you needed him more than ever.

his brows furrowed at your movements and you unzipped his pants, feeling him closer. he lets you do as you please as you pull down his pants, his boxers joining them.

seeing the hardened member, you immediately stroke it a few times before coating your hand in spit and proceeding to repeat your motions.

“god how are you so good at this?” jiwoong grunted while placing his forehead on yours.

you let go of his member and stood up, grabbing his arms in place and sitting him down on the desk instead. your knees met the carpet and you took him into mouth.

you stopped for a moment to respond to him, “i’m a hands-on learner.”

he lightly moans at your words, recalling how the last time you two were in this position he was guiding you.

in satisfaction, you continued bobbing your mouth up and down his hard-on. you took the time to tease his slit that was already coated with precum and use your hands, slightly squeezing his member. 

he grabbed your hair, somewhat forcing you to quicken your pace. drool had started to spill from your mouth and you looked up at jiwoong, seeing him in absolute bliss.

“my good girl, you’re doing so well,” he cooed.

his words went straight to your core and you felt the need to please him more.

once you felt his hold on your tighten, you knew he was close to cumming. you quickened your pace while his cock started to hit the back of your throat.

his grunts were more vocal and he moaned as his cum spilled into your mouth.

you took everything into your mouth and finished off with a ‘pop’ once you were finished, smiling at him afterwards.

“you’ll be the death of me,” he commented before lifting your body up and holding it as your legs felt like jelly.

“did i do good?” you asked expectantly, jiwoong released a sigh before taking your lips.

“you did amazing, sweetheart, but i think i need a little more for you to get an a,” he chuckled.

“i’m all yours jiwoong, take me.”

he smirked at your words and made his way back to his chair. once he sat, he patted his legs.

“come here sweetheart, we’re going to grade your paper together,” your eyes sparkled at the thought and you walked and sat yourself on his lap, facing the computer.

you shivered as you felt his warm member under you, but he stayed still. once he found your paper among many of the others, he clicked on it and placed his hands on your thighs.

the paper came up and you reread the words, remembering every line that you wrote. you were so focused on reanalysing your paper, that you failed to realize how jiwoong was starting to tease your bundle of nerves.

you let out a small gasp as his finger grazed your core, teasing you every now and then as you grabbed the desk for support.

“let’s see how you did angel,” he says into your ear as he inserts a finger inside of you. 

you placed your head on his shoulder for support and he fastens the pace, while reading your paper.

“eyes on the screen, i already found a mistake,” he forces you to look at your paper highlighting the mistakes. meanwhile, he plunges another finger inside of you.

“you contradicted yourself here, how can darcy be chivalrous once sentence and then an ass in the next,” 

you left his question unanswered, letting the ecstasy you were feeling sink in until his fingers stopped.

“i asked you a question,”

“uhm,” you swallowed, “i don’t know.”

jiwoong chuckled, “you don’t know? this is your paper sweetheart, minus two points.”

you quipped your heads towards him, realizing how he was genuinely grading your paper and begging for him to take it back.

“you want extra credit you have to deserve it, you’re going to explain each mistake you made for me,”

“but-”

“no buts, you asked for this. now, why did you contradict yourself?”

you sighed, silently admitting defeat.

“darcy did everything the way he was suppose to, making himself a perfect suitor in a way, but he completely disregarded elizabeth’s feelings the entire time and decided to act purely for his own interests,”

you could feel jiwoong’s smile as his fingers started to continuously pleasure you. you moaned in relief as jiwoong continued to read the paper.

he tsked, but his fingers maintained their pace.

“and here, you really think elizabeth revealed jane’s and bingley’s possible engagement out of jealousy?”

you shut your eyes slightly annoyed, but answered nonetheless wanting his fingers to fill you.

“not out of jealousy-” you whimpered as he fastened the pace of his fingers, teasing you endlessly.

“out of spite, she only mentioned the couple because she knew it would garner a reaction from darcy,” you somehow let out.

with a hum of satisfaction you assume, jiwoong places his eyes on your paper once again. you rejoice looking at the screen because the paper was nearly done being read.

jiwoong takes his time using his fingers to tease you mercilessly, all while forcing you to maintain your composure.

you begin to feel a haze as you feel a knot in your stomach.

“jiwoong-”

“not yet angel, i’m not done grading.”

your moans grew louder, feeling your climax closer and closer. your eyes looked at his concentrated face as he read and read.

it felt like a decade and you couldn’t handle it.

“jiwoong please,” you begged, not caring about your shame anymore.

you came here for him, the a was just an excuse.

“why do you think elizabeth accepted darcy’s proposal?” 

“are you serious?”

“why?”

“she was desperate for marriage,” you rushed out, starting to lose any complete thought.

“do you think she was as desperate as you are right now?” he said lowly, never wavering the pace of his fingers and reaching your spot.

“i don’t know,” you whimpered.

“what was that?”

“i don’t know!”

“but you know everything sweetheart don’t you? that’s why you think you deserve an a,”

“jiwoong, i’m so close,” you completely pressed your body towards his desk, trying to restrain yourself from touching him.

“i know, which is why i’m not allowing you to cum,” he announced.

you turned to him astonished as he took his fingers out of you and innocently licked your juices from them.

“the paper could’ve been better, i thought you read the book three times?”

“i did,” you nearly sobbed.

“well that didn’t reflect in the paper, so now you have to earn your grade and your right to cum,”

“how?” you immediately quipped, willing to do anything for the man.

“you can start by placing yourself on the desk, ass up,” your body immediately follows through and you stand up with your hands on the desk while facing the door.

you hear rustling of the cabinets behind you as jiwoong finds a condom and he grabs a hold of your waist.

“remember angel, try not to be too loud. everyone is grading,” you nodded understandingly, whimpering as you felt jiwoong slowly entering you.

“god princess, it was like you were waiting for me,” he groaned, waiting for your signal to go as your walls clenched around him.

when you placed your elbows on the desk, positioning yourself in a more pleasurable way, jiwoong took it as a sign to go on.

his pace started slowly, while you moaned under your breath feeling him everywhere. 

“jiwoong,” you moaned while he quickened his pace. although he tried to conceal them, his groans were slowly becoming louder.

“yes sweetheart?”

“more,” you begged, wanting more pleasure, more of his touch, and more of his everything.

“your wish is my command,” he said, bucking his hips towards yours rapidly while using one of the hands that was on your waist to tease your clit.

you let out a moan as he continuously hit your pleasure spot with a steady face. with his other free hand, he grabbed your hair loosely, pulling you closer towards him.

all you could let out was his name in whimpers. 

“you’re so good for me y/n,” the praise went straight to your core as he knew what you wanted to hear.

“such a good girl, you take my cock so well,”

“only for you,” you let out between the whimpers and moans, as jiwoong shows no signs of stopping.

“you wanted this didn’t you? you didn’t even need help, you just wanted to lose yourself on my cock,”

“not…true,” you lied.

you loathed pride and prejudice, but papers were your forte and if you really tried, you knew you could’ve done fine without help.

jiwoong was just amazing at validating you and fucking you beautifully, so you couldn’t help but beg for his assistance.

he slapped your ass in response, “don’t lie to me,” he warned.

“i promise sir,” you nearly yelled, forgetting any sense of being quiet. jiwoong placed a hand on your mouth, muffling any sound.

“you promised last time how this would never happen again didn’t you? look at you now,” he whispered in your ear.

you closed your eyes in ecstasy as you felt the knot in your stomach growing once again.

jiwoong kept on giving and giving, while you just took everything he gave.

“please, ” you begged into his palms, clenching around him while he hit your spot over and over again.

“just a little longer princess, i’m almost there,” jiwoong somehow got faster, ramming into you repeatedly all while you moaned into his hands.

“god, you’re perfect,” he mumbled.

suddenly, it all felt like too much. you closed your eyes in bliss while screaming out jiwoong’s name as you came. your head fell onto his shoulders as he lightly kissed your chin, chasing his release as well.

once his groans grew louder, you felt the warmth of the cum he spilled into the condom as his pace became sloppy.

he slowly pulled out of you as you stood breathlessly in between his arms, beads of sweat slowly falling down your face.

he disposed of the filled condom into the trash under the desk and turned you around to face him.

his goofy smile made you chuckle on the spot as you realized the other reason you wanted to visit jiwoong.

you genuinely enjoyed his presence. he made you feel safe and seen when everyone else had expectations for you. he looked at you as if you were the most important thing in the world at that moment.

desires aside, jiwoong was someone you could love and you were willing to give it a shot.

if he didn’t show how much he cared with words, he certainly did with actions as he showed when he started to clean you up with tissues.

you couldn’t help but laugh.

“what’s so funny?” he quizzically asked.

“you’re using tissues?” he rolled his eyes as he threw them in the trash and lifted your body to sit on the desk.

“well if someone didn’t need help so much, i could’ve prepared with time to bring something more premium,” he joked as you caressed the hairs behind his neck lightly.

“i’m sorry, the pent up stress from finals got to me. you don’t have to do anything with the grade,”

“nonsense y/n, your paper was exceptional either way. you didn’t need extra credit at all. you doubt yourself too much,” he complimented.

“does that mean i get an a?” you excitedly let out, not being able to contain yourself. jiwoong smiled at the gesture.

“yes, but you should probably stop relying on me for them because i am no help,”

“i guess it’s a good thing i graduate this semester then,” you mentioned and his eyebrows perked up.

“you graduate this semester? how come i didn’t know?”

“i wanted you to think i would taunt you for a long amount of time,” he slightly smirked at your confession.

“as if you didn’t have me wrapped around your fingers. speaking of, since you're graduating, when can i take you out on a date?”

“whenever you grow the balls to ask,” you joked as he looked down and up to meet your eyes again.

“maybe when we’re not naked?”

“probably.”

a/n: hope you all enjoyed whatever the hell this was😭 like i mentioned i'll try to write more but this writers block has stumped me. i appreciate you all and thank you for taking the time to read my works! :)

@zeruby16 on tumblr | est. 2023

[thehollowwriter]

Warnings: Injury, swearing, probably full of mistakes. Word count: 5k+

Key: Regular text is for the present. Italics is for flashbacks, bold is for journal entries

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤️)

Lamentations Pt 5

There is a term, more of a feeling, really, that humans use called "walking on air." An elated, fluffy feeling of delight.

I can't "walk" since I don't have legs, but that's a perfect way to describe how I felt when Morrigan kissed me that night. When he wrapped his arms around me and looked at me like I was the only thing that ever mattered to him.

I think about that moment a lot, when dusk settles into night and life slows down for a short moment. I think about how different things were all those years ago, how different I was.

Silas stopped writing and stared at the page for a long, long time. He found himself back in that dim, dingy shop, gazing into those bright, loving eyes. Those eyes... so intelligent, yet so innocent at the same time.

What had he done to deserve Morrigan, really? What could he have possibly done, in his life filled with death, to be blessed with such a loving man?

Silas pressed his pen against the paper again so hard he nearly broke the tip.

I'm... I'm not going to sit here and tell myself I'm a good person. I'm not. I have killed and eaten hundreds of my own kind in my lifetime, and I still do so today.

I have torn them apart and swallowed every piece until there is nothing but bone to indicate their existence. I've lied, cheated, and stolen whatever I possibly could to keep myself alive.

I am a murderer. A cannibal. A monster.

What is the worst Morrigan has done? Land some kids in the hospital as a teenager and nearly get expelled? Almost kill someone? Almost.

Morrigan, for his smugness and cockiness and aggression, for all his violence and rage, is not an evil person. He is not perfect, but he's not a monster.

I cannot truthfully say that Morrigan's parents' and the other citizens of Atlantica's fear and distrust of me is wrong. I cannot say they are being too quick to judge, that they just haven't taken the time to get to know me.

I fit the Abyssal merfolk stereotype like a glove. I'm the horror story spread when the lights go out brought to life.

I told this to Morrigan that night, after my grandfather had taken his medicine and gone to bed. I suppose you could call it a warning, a flashing sign telling him to leave.

He simply smiled me, sharp teeth glinting and eyes burning with passion and desire, and shrugged.

"I know," He said. "I'm not changing my mind. I love you."

It was stupid. Insane, even. And yet Morrigan spoke as if he were telling me the earth revolved around the sun. Like it was an unshakable fact, something that cannot be changed.

Oh... oh, how I love him.

Morrigan was surprised when Silaa began pulling him upstairs. He had never been on the second floor. For all their time together, he had been limited only to Silas' little shop.

Silas began calling for his grandfather, and the dopey grin that had been affixed to Morrigan's face was briefly replaced with a confused expression, but he schooled it quickly.

"Well, I've horribly misread the situation." He murmured so Silas couldn't hear, perking up when Silas' grandfather swam in with a yawn.

"Mm, Silas, is it time for that awful drink alr-" He stopped short when he caught sight of Morrigan, surpised. "Well, if it isn't our favourite city boy. I'm surprised Silas brought you up here."

He squinted at them, then gasped.

"Are those-"

"Yes," Said Silas, reaching to grab Morrigan's hand. "We are... together now."

Morrigan grinned and clasped their hands together. "I hope you don't mind me stealing your grandson, Mister Emrys, sir."

The old mer laughed and drifted over to them to take Morrigan's free hand in his own. "Why, of course not. You're perfect for Silas, my boy. You should stay the night with us. We can celebrate."

Morrigan's grin widened. "I'd like that, sir."

It was a lovely evening. Morrigan and my grandfather, Emrys, got along well. It made me happy to see them banter with each other.

My grandfather retired to bed after taking his home brewed medicine, bidding us goodnight and leaving us to our own devices.

There was nowhere for Morrigan to stay. No guest room, no lounge. There was the kitchen, my bedroom, and my grandfather's bedroom.

Morrigan didn't mind. In fact, he said he'd be happy to share with me with that grin of his. I considered nipping him for that, but I don't think he was trying to be funny.

It was nice, actually. Sitting together, tails intertwined, talking through the night. Morrigan held me tightly, as if I would drift away from him.

He was very affectionate, as I soon came to learn. Kisses, holding me, complimenting me, and so on. He always asked first, and he always seemed so gleeful every time.

I never expected to enjoy physical affection, but it seemed Morrigan was always the exception. I often found myself melting into his kisses and holding his hand tightly, feeling warm and safe.

Our new relationship altered our routine once again. Now, Morrigan visited as much as he could after his classes, greeting me with a kiss and hugging me gently when our games finished.

Then we would sit close together, our tails curled around each other, and just... talk. We often got distracted, though, finding ourselves kissing roughly and... well, perhaps I should write that down somewhere else.

I was delighted that he came over more. Morrigan's visits were the highlight of my week, after all. There was just one issue I unknowingly stumbled into.

Morrigan knew me well by the time we began dating. Almost too well. He knew my personality, my tics, my likes and dislikes, and so on. But even with our games and our long talks, there are things you miss when you only meet once a week.

I always made sure I was feeling or at least appearing to feel my best when Morrigan came round, even if hunger clawed at my insides and the pain that shot through my body made me feel as if I were being branded with an iron.

I wanted to have fun, and I didn't want Morrigan to worry.

I think I was also too cocky. I put too much faith in my own abilities, even though my health was probably the worst it had ever been.

This overconfidence came back to bite me when Morrigan and I got into a playful tussle one day and... well.... I broke a rib.

It wasn't Morrigan's fault, no. I could never blame him for that. It was mine. I had perfected the art of making myself seem stronger, bigger, or more threatening than I actually was for the sake of my own survival.

My magic was strong, yes, but it wasn't something I used often. It was precious, a resource only used for emergencies, even before I learned what blot was.

Silas winced at the word, then continued writing.

I was so convincing, it seemed, that I overestimated myself far more than Morrigan did.

A sickening crack wiped the smile from Morrigan's face, and he instantly released his pinhold on Silas. He carefully moved and turned Silas over, his eyes wide with horror and concern.

"Oh shit, oh shit, shit shit shit, Silas, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean- oh, Sea Witch, how bad is it?"

"Ngh..." Silas blinked up at the rippling kelp above them, wincing at the mind numbing pain that exploded somewhere around his ribs. "I'm fine. Just a little... ngh, sore..."

Morrigan shook his head wildly, his eyes as wide as saucers. "Darling, no, I heard something break o-or fracture when I pinned you, oh no, what did I do to you-"

Darling. Morrigan said, "darling." Not Silas. Darling.

Silas didn't know why, but that made him incredibly happy, even though the situation didn't really call for such a feeling.

Morrigan, still alarmed, carefully hoisted Silas into his arms. "We need to get you to a- a doctor or a hospital or something-"

Silas' hand shot up to grip Morrigan's wrist tightly.

"No doctors." He hissed, struggling to take in a breath.

"Silas, your rib is broken-"

"And my grandfather will help me treat it. I've dealt with worse. Take me inside."

Morrigan bit back a protest and obeyed, swimming inside and placing Silas down on his bed.

"Just call my grandfather, please," Silas mumbled, wincing.

Morrigan didn't answer at first. He stared at Silas for a moment, tapping his claws together, and swallowed.

"I really think you should go to the hospital."

"No hospitals."

"Silas, you could end up with a pierced lung!" Morrigan snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, I never said anything because you seemed fine, and I didn't want to pry into something so personal, but... even without a broken rib, which I will repeat is very bad, you and Emrys should go to the hospital. Should have gone, actually. Long ago."

Silas laughed, taking in a sharp breath at the pain. "Hah, for what?"

Morrigan raked his left hand through his hair and clenched his right one into a fist. "Both of you are skin and bones, literally! I can see your ribs, Silas! That's not normal! Have you been eating anything at all?"

Silas let out a soft sigh. "I... I have a few scraps a day. Eating anything more... makes me throw up. Grandfather as well."

"That's even worse! You need to go to the hospital, both of, you or something-"

"I said no hospitals." Silas growled.

"Why not?"

"Morrigan, please. ...I... I can't. You think a doctor would want to help us?"

I suppose you could call a distrust of doctors a family tradition in a way. Not a single one of us trusted medical professionals, not because we thought they didn't know anything, but because we feared what they could do when given access to us at our most vulnerable.

I trust Morrigan with my life, however. I trust he will protect us and ensure nothing happens while we are in such a strange place.

The first obstacle was convincing my grandfather to go, too. He did not have the same amount of faith in Morrigan as I did. His history ran deeper than mine, after all.

My grandfather's grandmother was a child when our family was forcefully driven out of the Coral Sea and into the Abyss. The horror stories of before and after were passed down to him, and then he passed them unto my parents and to me.

Unlike me or my parents, my grandfather had a clear memory of my great great-grandmother's face when she told him of her experiences. He, young and impressionable, could see the fear glistening in her eyes, the way she seemed to be taken back to those moments, reliving the terror all over again.

There is a little saying, a proverb, she passed down to us. It was short, but it said all it needed to.

"They will hate you with a veil kindness. They will smile at you and fill your veins with poison."

And really, what else would such a saying do other than strike fear into your heart?

My grandfather was horrified at the very idea of going into Atlantica, never mind the hospital. It was the closest thing the two of us had ever had to a fight.

I told him Morrigan would protect us, and if he were to fail, I would make sure we got out and home safe. He needed to get better, or else he wouldn't last the rest of the season.

My grandfather eventually agreed, saying that it was only because he wanted me to recover safely, and then we began our trip to the city.

This experience was well over thirty years ago. My recollection of most of the events is fuzzy, but the little details aren't too important anyway.

What is important is the fact that we ended up staying in that hospital for a very long time, as there was far more wrong with us than even Morrigan could have guessed.

It was a very distressing experience. I was surrounded by doctors and nurses taking my temperature, asking me invasive questions, poking and prodding at me, shining lights into my eyes, and pricking me for blood.

Morrigan had to hold me back from breaking someone's face when they wanted to draw my blood for testing, telling me it was going to be okay and to let them do their thing.

I hated it. I hated it so much. It was a terrifying experience, and it is not often I feel genuine terror. But they... they just carried on, like it was your average weekday. Cold. Uncaring.

It didn't help that I barely understood half of what they said. Medical jargon. Utter nonsense.

Morrigan's doctor, the one he told me he trusted, did her best to make sure I was comfortable. She noticed I was confused and started slowly explaining what they were doing to me.

I don't know if she was genuinely trying to help or talking down to me, but either way, it did help. I felt better understanding what was happening to me.

There was... so much wrong with me. The doctors were surprised I hadn't died of malnutrition, but concluded my magic had something to do with my survival

I could never figure out why I kept throwing up food if I tried to fix my own starvation. It made me angry that I finally had a steady stream of food but couldn't actually eat much of it.

As it turns out, it is because of something called Refeeding Syndrome. Medical complications caused by aggressive nutritional rehabilitation. That is, too much nutrition at once after a prolonged period of starvation.

The best way to treat our malnutrition was by feeding tubes. Slowly giving us the nutrients we were lacking in a controlled environment. Morrigan had to hold me back again, as the idea of these strangers sticking a tube into me and pumping my body full of fluids terrified me.

I can't remember exactly how long we were in that hospital, but I do remember my recovery was slow and painful. Morrigan stayed by my side the entire time, making sure I was alright and using his magic to block my own when it lashed out when I caught sight of a needle.

There was an issue when we realised that neither I nor my grandfather had any form of identification. No ID, no birth certificates, nothing. Just our names, and we had no last name we could recall.

I distinctly remember a nurse muttering, "This is what happens when you leave them to breed down there." Morrigan shot her a look so dark it seemed to make the lights flicker, and she shut her mouth.

When we were healthy enough to move around and eat solid foods again, we had to do physical therapy. It was something that irritated me, even if I was glad to no longer be confined to a bed.

Being led around and told what to do by a stranger like I was a child made me feel the urge to throttle someone. Morrigan... Morrigan calmed me down, though. He was good at that. Rubbing my hand with his thumb and whispering words of comfort to me.

The worst was the psychiatrists. Morrigan couldn't stay with me during those little sessions, and I was trapped alone with a bored shrink who quite clearly didn't want me there.

It was quite obvious how they felt. I was taking up what could have been a free slot. I was taking time away from city merfolk.

They, the psychiatrists and the doctors, and the nurses, thought I was stupid. I know they did. It was soaked into their tones, bleeding out from behind plastic smiles.

Staying there was a terrible experience. I hated it, even if Morrigan's doctor tried her best to make things better. However... I don't regret it.

I still clearly remember looking into the mirror in the hospital bathroom one day and seeing the true colour of my skin for the first time.

It took me by surprise. My whole life, I had been a dull lilac-grey. But in that bathroom, I saw I was a deep flourishing purple. I spent ages tracing my skin and picking at my scales, entranced.

"You look amazing," Morrigan said to me, wrapping his arms around me. "Big I'm just glad you're healing."

My grandfather, who always appeared to be a dull brown-ish hue, was sunset orange. It left the two of us in awe, taking in the vibrant colours indicative of healthy skin.

It's strange how you sometimes only realise the extent of your problems after you've healed or gotten away from them.

When we were finally discharged, I had never felt so alive. My ribs no longer showed, my body no longer screamed with constant pain, and my insides no longer felt like they were being torn apart.

This sudden strength, this sudden joy and energy, made me realise just how much pain I was always in. How sick I was. I was one mishap away from a death that had nothing to do with starvation or being eaten, and I didn't even know it.

I was, unfortunately, instructed to "take it easy" for a few weeks until I could get back to hunting.

I couldn't do that. I had work to do, bills to pay. Morrigan could cover medical costs, but he couldn't also pay for my house and my staff's wages. I couldn't risk so much as a cent.

"It'll be okay, Si." Morrigan said to me with that warm smile of his. "You can still tell your party what to do. You just can't join them."

Morrigan was always optimistic.

My full recovery was much quicker than expected, but still very boring and nerve-wracking. Spending all my time inside, flitting about the shop, or lying on my stone slab of a bed, staring at the ceiling, was mind-numbing.

My grandfather was not so lucky. He still spent much of his time sleeping even though he was healthier now. His health always was much worse off than mine.

"We think Emrys was exposed to an oil spill," said Morrigan's doctor, whose name I can't remember. "His magic cleared most of it, but it still caused erosion on his fins and enlarged his liver."

It didn't help that he was nearing eighty. Merfolk can live much longer than that, but when your body has taken so much damage, that lifespan is cut short.

I looked after him the best I could. Helping him eat, giving him his prescribed medicine, thar sort off thing.

It was pretty miserable. The only thing that made it bearable was the music from the radio and Morrigan's visits.

He brought sweets for us. Can you believe it? Candies. Chocolate. Fron the surface.

"A friend from land sent it down," Morrigan said with a grin, unwrapping a bar and handing it to Silas. "A congratulations and a get well soon mixed together. Don't worry, the doctors said it's okay."

Silas blinked at him questioningly, and Morrigan quickly clarified.

"Oh, right. I told a few friends I'm officially taken... and that my new boyfriend was unfortunately in hospital. They sent this stuff down as good wishes."

Silas hummed, an amused smile crossing onto his face, and took a tiny bite out of the small piece of chocolate he broke off the slab. It was delicious.

Silas' grandfather politely declined Morrigan's offering of chocolate, telling the two to enjoy it and that he was going to lie down for a while.

Silas stared at the chocolate in his hand, and his eyes suddenly felt very wet.

"I don't... I don't think he's going to be with us for much longer." He said softly. Morrigan pulled him into a tight hug, and Silas tried his hardest not to cry.

It's nice to be cared for. Morrigan visited every second day to make sure we were alright. It was annoying to me that he didn't let me fight him, but I understood his reasoning.

When I was finally cleared to hunt again, the first thing I did was challenge Morrigan to a fight. I won, and I'm partially sure be let me, but I don't mind.

He looked ethereal, laughing in delight, covered in bruises and bitemarks, with his hair splayed out on the sand. Happy. Happy I was finally healthy.

This whole experience brought on a new issue. Morrigan had not yet told his parents we were dating at the time. I didn't care whether he told them or not, as it wasn't their business, but it was strange to see him stress over it so much.

I told him if they had a problem, then they weren't worth his time, and he just laughed. It sounded hollow.

He couldn't keep us secret forever, of course, especially since he took time off to stay with me while I was in the hospital.

He eventually told them a few months after I began hunting again. The day he did, he came storming into my shop, not even bothering with our game.

Silas perked up at Morrigan's presence, frowning when he saw the state he was in.

Morrigan was breathing hard, fists clenching and unclenching angrily. There was a raging fire, a maliciousness sparking in his magic that made Silas' skin prickle in all the best ways.

"What happened?" Silas didn't ask out loud, but his questioning and concerned look said all it needed to.

Morrigan looked at him, and his aquamarine eyes burned.

"You know what she said?" He asked, his voice set to a whisper, almost trembling. "She fucking said 'no'. What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I'm not asking for her permission or- or approval. And dad, Seven damn it, shaking his head like I've broken some fucking rule-"

Morrigan was on the verge of hyperventilating and Silas drifted over to wrap his arms arms around him and press his face into the crook of his neck.

Morrigan stiffened in surpise, then relaxed. He rested his chin on Silas' head and sighed.

"Sorry, darling. They're- my parents- not happy. But I'm not breaking it off so they want to meet you. Next week."

I was never unaware of meeting the family as a custom. It is a custom we even have in the abyss, if you're lucky to find a partner.

However, something that still perplexes me today about both Coral Sea and apparently land culture is the idea that you have to consider your partners family your own, and you must get along at all costs. If you dislike them, you smile and tolerate it.

Perhaps I don't understand it because keeping up appearances and faking getting along was a waste of energy in the abyss. If you didn't like a family member's partner, you could say so and carry on.

That's why I always felt so confused whenever Morrigan complained about his sister-in-law, muttering about how she got on his nerves with her smart alek quips and obnoxious way of talking.

"Then tell her that." I told him, and he looked at me like I was insane.

"I can't say that! She's my sister!'

"She's your sister's wife, not your sister. She doesn't need a free pass."

I think my way of thinking was part of the reason he avoided telling his parents about us for so long. I'm not offended, though. I never was.

There is... a trope in movies and TV I've come to notice. The overbearing in-laws. It's very strange to me, parents who are so obsessive and controlling over their adult children and, by extension, their children's partner.

I found it stupid and unealistic at the time. Who would behave like that? Who would try to take control of a wedding or decide their word is law in someone else's marriage?

Well, the answer to that would be Morrigan's parents.

They don't like me and I don't like them. They are not my parents or my family, not matter how much they insist they are.

I disliked them before I even met them. The snippets of how they treated Morrigan like their trophy I caught onto, the way they seemed to unashamedly hate me already, that was telling enough for me to dislike them.

I was unsure about meeting Morrigan's parents at first. They refused to come to Midway, instead insisting I come to them.

"I'll keep my exposure to the abyss limited to just the butcher, thank you," Morrigan relayed to Silas in a high-pitched voice, mocking his mother. "At least then we'll have a lesser chance of being infected with something."

Infected. Infected, she had said, in a snobbish upper-class accent, at least according to Morrigan. As if I were diseased.

Still, it was best to bite the bullet and just go see them. We made the trip there the next week, leaving at sunset to travel to a suburb near the heart of Atlantica.

I felt uncomfortable the entire trip there. The streets were busy even at night, bustling and noisy, lit with all too bright lights from advertisements and streetlights.

We finally arrived at a quaint house constructed from stone and metal. It was big, at least to me, and quite fancy.

"Hey, mother, father," Morrigan called out, unlocking and opening the front door. "We're here."

"Hello, Morrigan," came an aged voice, feminine and shrill. "And... you."

A small, thin woman with saggy skin and pursed lips stared at Silas with turquoise eyes as cold as ice. Her hair was silvery white, and her skin and scales were pink.

Silas silently stared back until her resolve wavered, and her gaze turned elsewhere, and she gestured for them to come inside.

"They're here, then?" Came a louder, deeper voice. Morrigan's father blinked at them with a pair of bright gold eyes. He was also thin, his skin the same deep green as Morrigan, but it didn't suit him. It was ill-fitting.

"Mother, father," Morrigan said slowly, sounding much quieter than usual. "This is Silas. Silas, this is Cyrus and Kiran, my parents."

Cyrus and Kiran stared at Silas, picking him apart, narrowing their eyes at every scar, every hole in his fins, every little imperfection.

Silas stared back. They were thin but not too thin. They were unnmarred, perfectly comfortable. Well-fed.

Weak. Spoiled. Prey.

Kiran cleared his throat. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Silas." He said, like a liar. "I hope our Morrigan isn't too much for you."

Silas didn't answer, and an awkward silence fell.

"Well," Cyrus said suddenly. "I suppose we should thank you for your services these past few years. Buying from you has been a big help financially."

Silas nodded his head and continued to gaze at them. Morrigan gently elbowed his side, and he blinked.

"Ah- it's... no issue."

The silence descended again, and they all floated there, staring at each other. Morrigan's parents were quite clearly uncomfortable with Silas there, neither coming near him nor looking him in the eyes.

"I must ask," Cyrus said after a while, her icy eyes glimmering. "Why are you dating Morrigan? I didn't think someone like him would pique the interest of... someone like you."

She tried to phrase it so politely. As if it were a mere difference in culture. But Silas knew what she meant.

"Because I love him," Silas rumbled. "That's reason enough, I'm sure."

"W-Well yes, but surely there are other factors-"

"No."

Cyrus looked taken aback by Silas' curt response, exchanging an aghast look with her husband.

"T-That's good, I suppose. Make yourselves comfortable, I'm making a prawn salad for a light meal. Kiran, you can get the wine out, and Keres, stop lurking over there and say hi to your brother."

Another mer, pink with dark blue scales and fins, swam into the living room with a huff. His hair was white with dark blue highlights, and his gold eyes glistened in annoyance.

Morrigan started, looking between this new mer and his parents.

"What's he doing here?"

Keres pulled his lips into an exaggerated pout. "Come on, Morrigan, that's no way to greet your little brother." He said, his voice dripping with manufactured sadness. "I'm just here for a visit to our loving parents. And to meet the lucky guy."

He waved at Silas and grinned. "Hi there. Keres Clearcove. Second oldest of the our clutch. Nice to meet you."

Silas blinked at him, unsure of how to answer, and Cyrus laughed. "Oh we'll let you three chat for a bit." She said, grabbing Kiran and making a swift exit.

"I'm not in the mood for your bullshit today." Morrigan hissed at Keres. "You've said hello, now go away."

Keres raised his hands, looking offended. "Sorry, Your Highness. Forgive me for forgetting my place. Just the lowly brother of special great mage Morrigan."

"That's not what I meant-"

"I'm sure it wasn't." Keres smiled. "Let's not fight in front of your man. Though I doubt it'll affect him much, considering his... background."

Morrigan drew his lips back threateningly, and Silas gently touched his arm. "Calm down. I'm sure Keres knows better than to run his mouth."

Silas stared at the mer in question until he swallowed and nodded his head. "Y-Yeah, of course! I'm not looking for trouble. In fact, I'm here to tell mother and father about a new client of mine."

"Client?" Silas glanced at Morrigan.

"He's a lawyer." Morrigan muttered.

"Indeed I am." Keres said proudly. "While Morrigan here babysits magic wielding brats all day, I consistently work with very high calibre and high paying clients to buy nice things for my children. I recently scored a CEO. Can you believe it?"

Morrigan's eye twitched, and Silas decided against answering.

"Tough crowd. Well, I'll be on my way to hide in my room while you-" Keres pointed at Silas. "-get scrutinised down to the tiniest detail and hounded about babies. Have fun."

He then left as quickly as he arrived, before either of them could respond.

"What a brat," Morrigan hissed, looking more irritated than Silas had ever seen him.

Keres was not wrong, unfortunately. I was, in fact, scrutinised down to the last detail, asked questions that ranged from odd all the way to invasive and rude. The topic of children was briefly brought up, though Cyrus expressed poorly hidden disgust at the idea and recommended adoption instead. As if we were planning to have children at all.

It was worse than the doctors at Atlantica General, I dare say. At least they weren't asking about my fertility since they "wanted grandchildren from their eldest."

Morrigan seemed to be on the verge of either punching someone or slamming his head against the wall the entire time but opted to dig his claws into the dining room table and grind his teeth instead.

Silas couldn't blame him. The fake kindness, the mock sympathy, the plastic hospitality made his teeth itch to bite something. He wanted them to stop lying. Call him a monster if they really wanted. He hated those forced smiles so much

Finally, finally, the conversation was coming to an end, when Cyrus said... something rather odd. And stupid.

"Listen, Silas, you seem... Nice." The lies kept spilling. Flowing out of her mouth like a winding river. "But we don't want you dating Morrigan. It isn't safe-"

"That's not for you to decide." Said Silas, and Morrigan sucked in a sharp breath and nearly tore through the table.

The facade cracked and Cyrus' face twisted into an angered expression.

"Now listen here, I will not have our son bee manipulated by-

"Shut up!" Morrigan snapped, wrenching his hand back and tearing through the table. "If you can't behave then we're going to leave."

"Come now, Morrigan, think carefully about this." Said Kiran. "You know, the merchant's son is a nice young man-"

"I said shut up." Morrigan tugged on Silas' wrist and began making his way to the door. "Come on, Silas."

Morrigan stayed with us that night, fuming silently. He wasn't just angry. He was hurt. Very hurt. I did my best to comfort him, though I don't think it was much help.

Unfortunately, that was not nor will it ever be the last time Morrigan and I clashed with his parents. They're a stubborn pair, hellbent on getting what they want even if they repeatedly fail.

They won't ever truly accept me as Morrigan's husband, and I can accept that. They can continue being hateful cretins, and I will carry on as I always have.

A knock on the door broke Silas from his writing trance. He put his pen down and took in a deep, slow breath. Even writing about Morrigan's parents gave him a headache.

"Coming, Timo." He called, then packed his writing away and left.

...........................................

Guide: Start, Prev

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! It really was a wild ride

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker

@offorestsongs @kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @inotonline

@1dont-really-know @kazumify @minteasketches @elysia-nsimp @skrimpyskimpy

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@ramshacklerumble @ghostiidasponk @thegoldencontracts @the-banana-0verlord

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

A general problem the MCU has is that while they may be good at bringing up potentially interesting and complex takes on real-world issues or things that could shake up the status quo, they're not good at commitment, and usually have the issues get solved in anticlimactic fashion, whether that be by the end of the same project they were introduced in, or have them get solved offscreen.

Like, with The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, they raise a legitimate issue through bringing up the topic of how immigrants and refugees are treated. Setting aside Karli falling into the same trap as Killmonger of "villains who suddenly kill a bunch of innocent people at random because they were raising too many legitimate points, and we need the audience to not root for the", the issue is resolved through Sam effectively giving a "Do better" speech to the politicians while the deportation issue is solved offscreen.

Setting aside that they come off more like a HYDRA manifesto, the Sokovia Accords could've been the foundation for a discussion about acceptable forms of oversight for superheroes. But it really just amounted to a plot device to allow the airport battle to happen, they're pretty much forgotten once Zemo enters the picture, they're mentioned a few times in Ant-Man and the Wasp and WandaVision, and then Matt Murdock's scenes in She-Hulk: Attorney at Law reveal that the Accords were repealed offscreen.

Secret Invasion seemed to be on track to deconstruct Fury's habit of using superpowered people to help him, by having it reveal that he basically exploited alien refugees. But he doesn't actually solve that issue by the end (in fact, when it comes to defeating Gravik, he exploits G'iah having superpowers and wanting to avenge her parents to utilize her as an assassin).

I very much agree with you.

The MCU likes to bring up certain points of discussion but they seem to believe that either the audience is too stupid to understand complex storylines or they just want something easy to digest that won't upset anybody (mostly the execs).

It comes to show that while in the past the superhero movies were all about celebrating the heroes and their "otherness", nowadays we get organizations like the TVA justified by the narrative, the governments are protected and the blame is deflected towards the heroes like Bucky, or a series that could have made a fantastic story regarding Fury, Shield and their shady missions turns out to say... absolutely nothing at all.

What they did to the Flagsmashers and Karli was so utterly disgusting that I can't even begin to say how mad it made me. Hell, Secret Invasion was dealing with refugees as well (the alien-kind but, still). So why not try to connect the two somehow? We had Nick speak to Talos about racism, much in the way Sam gets to mention some of it especially when he's with Isaiah, but nothing ever comes out of it. They're short lines that can be quoted in tweets and memes but they're pointless when it comes to the story being told in the series.

And maybe that's the problem, it would seem that's all Marvel wants. It's like their "queer rep". They want something quick, short, and ambiguous that won't bother anyone too much. Probably because they're one of those who think "both sides" are equally right and wrong and so they don't want to alienate anybody.

And one of the reasons I hate this is that when it really comes to it... does the existence of heroes really change anything in the MCU universe? When it comes to external threats they're essential, but with internal affairs? They always stop the immediate threat but everything else that made it happen is left as it is (the worst offender is CW, the Accords and that damn Raft. "Oh let me break my teammates out of here but watch as I do nothing to help the other inmates or anybody else that will be sent here in the future". WTF is that?!!).

[clementexix]

Blind Love

Memories could fade away,

except my love for you.

You would never imagine a day your dearest husband would point his wand under your throat, glaring at you as if you were a kind of threat. You knew this day would be coming sooner or later, it was just a matter of time. However, it crushed your soul when observing Tom killed your child, his child. She was more than an innocent live, she was the fruit of your love with the young Dark Lord, the man you had been in love with for years. Were you paying the price from your past mistakes? Yes, you did lie to Tom. On the graduation day, you put him under the Obliviate spell when he was not on guard in order to fulfill your dreams. You just wanted to have a simple life as many other normal people always dreamed of: marrying to the love of their life, having kids and living happily ever after. Nonetheless, what you did not expect was that they turned out to be your worst nightmares. Seeing your significant other turn back into a monster seeking immortality and watching your kid kick the bucket in front of you were too much to handle.

"Kill me Riddle," - Though you were on the brink of despair, you found him no fear, especially after what happened. Your daughter got killed, your husband who was now Lord Voldemort. Was there any reason to keep you existing?

"It will not be that easy yYn, just look at what you have done to me-"

Your heart ached as you saw fierce animosity in his dark brown eyes. Yet, you got softened for him whenever looking into those pupils. It was like memories consecutively flooded back into your head, those youthful days when Tom still remained some humanity. Tom's gorgeous eyes reminded you of the first day you had met him. It was not a pleasant experience, but that was enough for you to have a little crush on this strange boy. His knowledge, his characteristics, his voice, his clothing style. Everything about him distracted you. You soon found yourself slowly falling hard for the young British man. But it was unexpected to know he also felt something special for you. Despite others' warnings, you could not help but become his secret lover. It turned out that he was quite different from those rumors. Tom would take care of you when you got a fever. He would let you take a rest in his Prefect room so you did not have to go back to your dorm late at night. And Tom Riddle would never forget to plant a goodnight kiss on your forehead before keeping you safe in his arms. Though he did not say romantic things frequently, you knew Tom loved you from the bottom of his heart. Or was it just your imagination?

"I'd rather watch you suffer than kill you right now."

Words blurted out through his gritting teeth sent chills down your spine. Tom clenched his jaw while eyeing what your next movement. Would you be on your knees for his mercy and voluntarily join his army? A part of Tom cursed you to rot to death, another part craved for your existence. How greedy he was to want both.

"Have you ever loved me?" - Your head lowered, unable to hold your gaze longer. You had no idea why you always felt this weak when it came to him. How pathetic of you just to want your child's murderer's attention.

"No."

Your used-to-be husband bluntly replied without avoiding your gaze. Every word slowly but painfully pierced into your heart as if there was an invisible dagger stabbing behind. Memories with him completely collapsed without a blink of an eye. You now have nothing to regret but be blessed with death by your own lover's bare hands. So he lied to you too, you pondered. After all this time, you were nothing but a fool for his love, being after a monster for so long. You were destined to a tragic death, or to be exact, your daughter's.

But before Tom could do something, you used the famous Obliviate spell on yourself then unconsciously passed out in his arms.

A leopard couldn't change his spots, so did Tom. He would forever be Tom Marvolo Riddle, the brutal Dark Lord that was feared by all.

[justonemorechapternicercy]

I love youuuuuuu🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

. . .

anything Ares x Percy for Halloween? I'm sorry I have no ideas for a prompt

✨JUST THEM✨

Okay, so, before you say anything, I want to remind you that you didn't give me a prompt! So before you come @ me, I declare myself innocent in this! u.u

Anyways, enjoy!(?) 🫣

"Oooh, he is gorgeous," a god tittered, raking his eyes over Percy as the demigod walked towards them, unaware - or uncaring - that his voice could be heard by others. It was loud enough that Percy could hear him, even over the loud chatter of the gods.

He was bored and he was just waiting for Ares to go home from the Halloween (Samhain?) party. Participating in a godly party was way worse than it sounded - and to tell the truth, it sounded fucking awful already. Half of the guests were gawking at him for being the hero of Olympus, and the other sneered at him for daring to dirty their air with his mortal stink, or something.

Not to mention the beings that were throwing themselves at Ares, hoping they would be the lucky ones he would fuck into the mattress that night.

Over Percy's dead body.

"Anyways, where's Aphrodite?" The god asked, quashing over Percy's existence and role as Ares' plus one, unintentionally reminding Percy who he was for Ares. He almost forgot himself, allowing his heart to hope.

Honestly, he should have been thankful for that nosy god for the reminder. He knew his place. He knew, and he was still a fucking idiot to forgot about it.

His role as Ares' side piece while he and Aphrodite were "on a break".

"Here you are," he smiled, pretending that everything was fine. He had decades of experience in this, so he just handed Ares his ale, and pressed a kiss on his lips. It was a quick one, one he knew would drive Ares crazy. The god didn't do "soft".

"Impertinent brat," growled the man, sneaking an arm around Percy's waist, pulling him close against his chest. "What the hell was that shit?!" He frowned. Leaning down he attacked the demigod's mouth with the same intensity he would go to a battle, instantly dominating the kiss, forcing Percy's mouth to yield under his siege.

That scene, from the snide comments to the aversion to the softer side of a relationship explained his place better than words ever could. Even through all the things he had done for the gods, he was still just a lowly demigod; gorgeous to look at, nice little diversion while on a break, but nothing to write home about.

He was just Ares' side piece.

Like the countless mortals, demigods, gods and other beings before him - and the many more that would come after him.

Aphrodite was Ares' only love, the one he had gone through many traps and battles; the others were just fleeting fancy.

The worst part was that Percy couldn't even say he'd expected anything else. Annabeth could accuse him of anything she wanted, he did know his history well. He knew what he was getting himself into when he accepted a god's proposal. He was a demigod.

Of course he knew.

But being with Ares… being pampered and spoiled and treated with lovely swords and daggers and phenomenal sex every day for the last couple of months… It made him forget about his place. It made him yearn for something unreachable-

For Ares' love.

But he remembered his role now. Everything that felt tender, everything they did together, be that a ride across Europe on Ares' bike or a one-on-one fight until they were both sweaty and hot and bothered, was only for one thing, and one thing only.

It was for Ares' pleasure.

He wondered for how long he could keep the god's attention. It was a fleeting thing; could be anywhere from mere seconds to millennia. If he was lucky, maybe he could keep Ares well into his adulthood (or until he died, whichever came first). He wasn't an idiot, he expected some flings, as the Ares cabin was one of the backbones of Camp Half-Blood, but he hoped he would be able to keep his place at Ares' side as a consort, maybe. Or the main lover, or something like that.

But it was probably a pipe dream. He should probably start savoring his remaining time with Ares.

Oh, how furious he would be if he knew Percy was looking through their interactions with a romantic lense! Percy should have known better.

He knew better.

He would do better.

So, he let it go.

The next time Ares gifted him a beautiful dagger that felt so perfect, instead of blushing like a bride on her wedding night, allowing the god to map his whole body with his tongue, making Percy mistake it with romance, he just grinned and invited Ares to spar.

Ares was more than okay with it.

Sparring with Ares instead of sex became their thing. Percy loved doing it, don't misunderstand, but… it tasted bitter on his tongue, that he wasn't even a side piece to fuck; he was just someone Ares could spar with.

He was demoted from a lover to a sparring partner.

Percy wanted to throw up. He should have realized his relative inexperience was going to be old quickly now that Ares had no other "firsts" to take away from him and new poses to show him.

At least he still could be at Ares' side; if anything, his fighting had been always on par with the gods', and after months of sparring with the God of War, he didn't need the help of the sea to take down a god anymore.

He knew that was all he was good for.

Hope was a dangerous thing. Elpis was cruel; she contorted reality and messed with the heads.

Contrary to other's beliefs, Percy wasn't stupid. Yet Hope made him crave things outside of his reach, she made him wish for unreal things. 

He should have broken things off once and for all. He should have saved himself from more pain and heartbreak-

But he didn't.

He was pathetic and in love, wanting everything Ares could offer him, not caring about what he wanted nor what he deserved.

He just wanted Ares.

[animentality]

You ever think about how the fandom will go nuts trying to explain how Astarion is ~basically~ an elven child and how he’s absolved of all guilt for everything he’s done by the abuse he endured and yet… on the other hand we also have Gortash, who very literally was a child when sold to the hells and put through who knows what manner of abuse, saw who knows what messed up shit, who has had chances to do better, yes, but has also had to fight to survive and be more than just a beggar on the streets once he escaped. And he’s the totally evil and irredeemable one according to most fans. I’m not trying to woobify him btw, it’s just always interesting how every other character gets defended on the basis of “but cult conditioning/abuse/etc” but Gortash is uniquely the worst man alive. Which he is, but also. Cmon. Astarion has a long list of innocent victims and is a razors edge away from becoming the next cazador in any given play through and yet he’s a perfect uwu angel apparently. This isn’t about saying Gortash isn’t evil, this is about saying he’s not drastically more evil than a lot of other nuanced characters in this game who get defended by the fandom masses.

ANON if I could kiss you, I would commit tax evasion with you.

THIS.

Like I know Gortash is awful, but so is fucking everyone.

Shadowheart can become a Dark Justiciar and do awful things for Shar. Lae'zel and the githyanki are a bunch of pricks who kill their own kids for showing weakness and kill innocent people all the goddamn time. Minthara obviously slaughters a bunch of innocent refugees, if you allow her to, and as a drow, probably committed a cavalcade of evil actions.

Gale's blind ambition could've nuked a fucking town. He might not have intended to become a living bomb, but he did, and by running around Faerun, he WAS putting literally everyone within like five miles of him in mortal danger. Wyll would've killed Karlach if you weren't there, and he expresses this horror, because he has definitely killed innocents for Mizora before.

Astarion would've gladly become Cazador 2.0, if you didn't stop him. He might've started out ok, but he would descend into that same evil, using you until there was nothing left of you, and treating others the way he was treated, because he sees himself as a god now.

Even fucking Karlach...who is a sweetie, and god I love her...well fuck, didn't Gortash accuse her of knowing just how shady his shit was? She was a desperate kid, yes, and he definitely took advantage of her, but he explicitly calls her out for working for him, even though she knew he was shady (if not a Banite). Plus she was his bodyguard for years. As if your bodyguard wouldn't know you were being a peace of shit?

The WHOLE POINT of Baldur's Gate 3 is that you and your companions are defined by your choices.

The option EXISTS to SAVE THESE PEOPLE.

THERE IS NO OPTION TO SAVE GORTASH.

The game gives you the option of seeing him die one way or the other way.

I'm just SAYING it's not totally fair to act as if Gortash is truly irredeemable, when out of all the villains, he at least had an idea of a better world, even if it was still self serving and frankly awful.

He was slightly better than the Dark Urge, and they GET the choice of redeeming themselves.

He never does. And maybe he wouldn't have taken it, but that's really not the point.

You hit the nail on the head, bud.

Gortash is evil, no doubt, this is true, he is not just a victim of circumstances, he made every wrong decision he could've made...

But the fandom has no problem woobifying Astarion even though that scene with Sebastian is fucking soul wrenching.

They raise their hackles at Gortash, as though he's been alive for 200 years and lured thousands to their deaths/vampirism, and they forget that Lae'zel is absolutely awful, and approves every time you murder children in front of her.

And Shadowheart spent her childhood learning to torture people.

You can say well their crimes aren't equivalent- and yes, that is true, HOWEVER.

Remember that you have met them when they were powerless.

If given power...if they had never been mindcontrolled by parasites...well shit, they might've fucking killed you.

They might've become tyrants themselves. I know it's purely conjecture on my part, I just kinda...I don't even necessarily want a redeemed Gortash storyline.

I'm fine with him just being a villain!

I just also have a working brain that doesn't understand the reflexive urge to say, he couldn't redeem himself if he tried.

I think, in this fictional world of course, that redemption should be possible. I think if they are honestly trying, and they repay the debts they incurred, then it might be justified.

But we didn't get that choice, and neither did he, and honestly, with what the game presents...I can whole heartedly say no, he wouldn't have redeemed himself. Even if he could, he would not have done it.

But the possibility does exist.

Trying to deny it makes you look like a hypocrite as you insist Ascended Astarion is still an uwu baby.

Like nah, sweetie. Good luck with that.

[sailorshadzter]

Spring finally arrives and along with it, forgiveness and warmth. Home. He is finally home. A time in which Jon finally forgives himself and the weight in his heart that once banned him from going home was lifted (the only ban that every existed because everyone knows he was always a hero)

hi anon!

thanks for the (VERY VERY OLD) request. i really wish (or maybe i dont lol) tumblr dated these.

i hope you see this!!!!!!!!! and you like it if you do!!!!

send me prompts

He wakes to the sound of the birds singing. 

What a strange concept, he thinks, rolling over onto his side, opening his eyes so he might observe the morning rays of light peeking in through his curtains. Pushing back the furs, all while making a mental note to ask for some lighter blankets, he sits up and swings his legs over the edge of his bed. 

It’s been something like six weeks since his return to Winterfell and somehow in that time, spring had made itself known. 

Almost as if it had been waiting for his return. 

A sigh escapes him and he stands up, stretching, before he makes his way across the room, reaching for the white shirt he’d draped over the back of a chair before going to bed the night before. It was a new shirt, one which was stitched by the hands of the very queen he’d come to serve. Queen or not, Sansa still thoroughly enjoyed sewing and she’d provided him with many new clothes upon his return to Winterfell. 

When he’s fully dressed, he slips away from his rooms, heading down the hall, pausing only a moment at the door that belongs to her. But, from within he hears the voices of the maids, telling him she’s already left for the morning. So he continues on, taking a flight of stairs down and taking a left down another hall. There on his right he stops at another door, raising his hand to knock- three quick knocks, one she would know anywhere.

And then he steps inside. 

She stands at the window, the morning sun framing her in the most beautiful of ways. 

To his surprise (and delight) she’s done away with her heavy winter gowns, replacing it with instead a sage green damask, its sweeping sleeves trimmed with elaborate gold thread, the hemline mimicking the very same pattern. She turns at the door, her rosy lips curving with a smile at the sight of him there, head tilting just enough to send her hair cascading across a shoulder. “Good morning,” his queen greets, sending his heart fluttering. 

It was not always this easy, he thinks, for it was not that long ago that he lived in a dark world. One full of regrets and fear, one where he worried he was not enough for her, one where he worried his presence would tarnish her good name. Hundreds of letters from her went unanswered, though they were all kept, even now tucked into the corner of his trunk. He had murdered one of his own- for the greater good, of course, and truth be told killing Daenerys was the least of his issues. But the war… The fighting… If only he’d done things differently. If he’d handled the situation differently, perhaps thousands of innocent lives would not have been stolen. 

The grief of that had nearly taken all of him, left him bereft, left him lost to drink, the only way he could ever feel any relief. It had taken time, over a year of it in fact, to come to realize that missing her was far worse than any of the other pain he felt. And so he’d sent her a letter back, thinking the worst that could happen would be her not bothering to answer him at all. Instead, she wrote him back, summoning him with her queenly demand. 

So he listened, coming to his queen’s call. 

“You are a spring queen,” he says with a grin of his own, approaching her where she stands, watching as she blushes pink. “I can’t remember when I last saw you in such a color.” For the last two years or more she’s worn nothing but gray and black, a sign of her mourning, a sign of her place as Ned Stark’s daughter. There wasn’t a single man in Winterfell that could recall their old lord ever wearing anything but black and gray. But she was not Ned Stark, she was his daughter, and she was their queen. “It suits you.” The soft green is a lovely contrast to her ivory skin, to her vibrant red hair. 

“Thank you,” she says, still blushing. 

They make small talk for a while, she seated there in the window seat, he atop the desk. He had forgotten how easy it was to talk to her like this- then he had to laugh, because until now, they never had anything but war and grief to speak of. “You know…” She’s saying now, drawing him back out of his own thoughts. “I have heard that the first seedlings have sprouted in the gardens, I thought I might take a walk through them to see for myself. Won’t you join me?” She looks his way, blue eyes bright and shining, a beauty unlike anything he’s ever had the pleasure of seeing. 

“Of course,” he replies, rising up so he might offer her his arms, which she takes when she stands up. 

Together they make their way down the hall and down the flight of stairs to the main hall, out the double doors and into the bright spring sunlight. 

Jon smiles, wondering how he ever could have stayed away. 

After all this time, he was home.