#almost as if he’s somewhat savoring having control over someone else’s life the way for a long time he didn’t have control over his own

[scarletspider2the2ndpower]

“Strangers,” Spider-Man: The Lost Years (Vol. 1/1995), #1.

Writer: J. M. DeMatteis; Penciler: John Romita, Jr.; Inker: Klaus Janson; Colorist: Christie Scheele; Letterer: Richard Starkings

[dewitty1]

Muggle Technology and Heroism

TommyLane

Chapters: 16/16 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Roommates, Pining, Squirt Gun Fights, James Bond Fanboy!Draco Malfoy, Sharing a Bed, Explicit Sexual Content, Drinking and Dancing, A Five Step Plan of Seduction, A Mysterious Absence Of Plot Outside Of Their Relationship, Dialogue Heavy, Angst and Humor Summary:

Draco Malfoy wasn’t exactly the best roommate Harry’s ever had. The man tended to watch way too much James Bond and his obsession with muggle technology not only rivaled Arthur Weasley’s but more often than not ended with Harry trying to assure him that the appliances weren’t out to get him. Then there was the little fact that Harry was hopelessly in love with him while Draco remained completely unaware, bringing nameless men home night after night.

But Harry loved his life and was somewhat (as long as he doesn’t actually think about it) content enough in the way things were going. That is until Draco’s old boyfriend comes sweeping back into town – making Draco breakfast and fixing the remote control before Harry can and forcing him to realize that if he doesn’t do something soon, that he might lose the man he loves before he even gets a chance to ever actually have him.

Excerpt:  

It was odd to think that maybe he had learned the most about the other man by watching him watch James Bond. Learned the most by the things he purchased and how he used them to relate to Harry… “Draco, the thing is…you’re a bit difficult to understand, you know. You always have been, you were always good at keeping me guessing. Even when we were young, but I think it’s worse now. Harder…to really know what you’re thinking.” Draco frowned at his drink, a deep line carved into his forehead. “It’s called having decorum Potter.” Harry shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe you just don’t know how to say what you’re thinking…what your feeling.” The blonde shifted before pulling his bottom lip between his teeth for a second, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “Is this about me fucking around again? Your odd roundabout way of telling me I’m a slut with some sort of emotional complex?” “No.” “Good. I don’t much care for that word.” “Slut?” “Complex, makes me think of fucking shrinks and their idiot views on the way my mind turns.” Draco flicked the cap he had been rolling absentmindedly between his fingers into the grass, a sneer on his lips that hinted that maybe there had been psychiatrists in his past - making him lay on leather couches and trying to analyze him as he glared and told them to fuck off in a number of different languages. The mental image lurched both painful and humorous in his stomach, a small smile contending on his lips as he pictured a younger Draco with his snarky mouth and petulant air. He never would have put himself in therapy, it had to have been a part of his parole after the war. God, Harry almost felt sorry for the men and women who had been assigned to his case. But he was getting sidetracked with his hands sweating against his leg, his heart pounding in his chest, and he needed to stop mentally stalling and gather his courage and do what he should have done days ago. Weeks ago. Months ago. Years ago… He fidgeted as he fingered the bottle and cleared his throat. “Well in any case I’m not talking about all the men. Or about Ethan. I’m talking about you and…and me.” Draco silently shifted his gaze to meet Harry’s, his lips wet from the beer and his eyes heavy, his jaw sliding forward like he was physically blocking his mouth from forming any audible words. He looked determined and lost, confused and uncertain all at the same time. Harry smiled softly, his fingers reaching to lightly touch Draco’s jaw, his courage pumping stronger, pulling him deeper when the other man didn’t pull away - didn’t even look away, not for a second, his gray eyes darkening and drowning out the sound of nature around them. “Harry -” His voice quivered with uncertainly, his eyes darting down as Harry brushed his thumb along the outer swell of the other man’s bottom lip. “I still remember where we were when things changed for me. We were at Pansy’s, I think it was her birthday and you were wearing those navy robes -” “I don’t wear navy.” Draco interjected and Harry grinned as he felt his body tip nearer, his blood pumping hot through his veins and in his ears and he wondered if Draco could hear it. If he could hear the beat of his heart, the thrum in his blood. He wondered if Draco felt it rushing through his own body in a matching rush of nerves and excited anticipation. They were a match in so many things, opposites in everything else, aligning perfectly, complementing wonderfully. Where Harry lacked Draco stood strong and the same was true for the other way around….and in this, Merlin, Harry could only pray they matched. “You did. They were new, you kept tugging at the sleeve when you thought no one was looking and you unbuttoned the top collar as we were talking. You were complaining about the increased price of Chinese chomping cabbage.” The sun had been shining hot, Draco’s face had been flushed a lovely pink, his tone an exasperated huff as he batted at invisible insects and tried to not pull on the collar of his robes that Harry was pretty sure had been a gift from someone. The back garden had been crowded with few people he knew and dozens that Draco did but still the blonde sequestered himself against a tree and chose to lament his potion sells because of the damn fucking cabbage to Harry. They had ended up drinking too much and Draco had smiled sloppily over at him as they snuck round the house and into the wine cellar - where Draco preceded to unburden Pansy’s family of various bottles of prestigious vintage. It was the night Draco vowed to turn Harry into a wine aficionado (or at least not such of an uncultured plebeian who thought wine from a box was quite good). The night Harry had tasted his first Merlot that he actually liked and the night he had shown Draco his first film (Dr. No…which in hindsight probably wasn’t the wisest move). The night he finally admitted to himself as he listened to Draco huff and rant and swat at flies that he had fallen for the other man. “Chomping cabbage?” Draco murmured and Harry could have sworn that the other man’s breath was a little shallower, his cheeks just a little pinker. “That…that was years ago.” Harry nodded and lifted his gaze from Draco’s lips to his eyes. “Yes.” Draco sucked in a breath and blinked quickly, the sun sinking beneath the horizon in one last splash of dying color around them. “You’re being rather enigmatic, Potter. It’s highly unnerving.” He whispered. “No, it’s simply really.” Harry leaned closer as he repeated his words from earlier at the tailors, his thumb brushing along the blondes jaw before slipping his hand down to curve possessively around the back of the man’s neck. He tipped his head, bringing them close enough that their breath mingled and warmed the space between them as he visually traced the sharp angles of his cheeks, the slightly parted fullness of his lips, his impossible gray eyes - the flecks of blue and gold bright up close. “Don’t be with Ethan. Because things have changed. For a long time…I’ve wanted…” He trailed off and swallowed, his courage faltering even though there was no turning back - not with his hand holding his face, his gaze full of the words that weren’t coming off his tongue but with the half confession ringing loud and clear between them anyway. Not with their lips nearly brushing and Draco’s eyelashes fluttering like he couldn’t decide if he should close them or stare wide eyed at him until he inevitably went crossed eyed. “What do you want?” Draco breathed and there was nothing hard or needled about his tone - his voice flayed open and making Harry’s heart constrict as something fluttered in his stomach. “You know. You have to know already…” He murmured in a breathy gush that pushed out of him and before he could ruin it with his own fumbling stutters, Harry breathed deep and did what he’d been dying to do for years now - he leaned in and kissed him, slanting his lips over Draco’s whose parted in a breath of surprise that got muffled and lost inside him. He distantly heard and felt Draco’s drink clatter to the ground as his grip slipped and spilled beer over the ground, his pale hand pressing flat against Harry’s chest like he was going to push him away for all but a moment before his fingers curled tight into his shirt - scratching his skin and heightening his senses further. Using his free hand, Harry’s fingers found their way into Draco’s hair, twisting in the silky locks and pulling gently, his mouth opening wider as Draco’s nails sank deeper, his heart soaring with the feel and taste and reality that he wasn’t being shoved away. He pressed closer, savored Draco’s quiet gasp, his tongue sneaking out to press against his as he kissed him harder, deeper, closer - his hands trying to tug him ever nearer as Draco let out a strangled broken sound. “Harry…” He whispered in a dizzy sort of manner, his hand that wasn’t squished between them coming up to rest tentatively against Harry’s cheek - first one finger, then two, the third tapping in an offbeat rhythm. Trembling. “Don’t be with him. Or anyone else.” Harry muttered between kisses with Draco’s eyes squeezed tightly closed, his lashes dusting his cheeks. “Be with me.” There were more words on his tongue, things that needed to be said, that needed to be made clear, but the man’s lips were like a drug and he was instantly addicted - every nerve in his body catching fire as the other man tensed, let out another soft sound that cracked in the middle, and pressed closer on his own accord. Kissing him. Draco Malfoy was kissing him and for once Harry wasn’t dreaming.

♡*(ू•‧̫•ू⑅)♡⋆*ೃ:.✧

[ohhoworiginalrfaheadcanons]

How would Jumin and MC's first kiss play out if Sarah had just taken the hint and left/got escorted out by bodyguards so the canon kiss never happened?

Alternate Jumin/MC first kiss

He's wanted to kiss her since he first saw her. He, more than anyone else, knows how ridiculous and absurd that urge is. It's intensely difficult to explain even to himself exactly how he feels about her, so maybe it's just the silly soap operas he's been watching recently, but seeing her...he wanted to gather her up in his arms and kiss her right there at the door.

It's a bizarre urge, because he's never had any particular urge to kiss anyone at all before. Even his father, he'd never felt any particular compunction to give a familial kiss as he'd seen others do for their family. A hug conveyed warm affection just fine and was far less...dirty, for all involved. It's not as if he doesn't understand why people kiss, it's merely that he's never himself had the urge to do so.

Thus, it's so much more confusing when his gaze keeps trailing down to look at her beautiful, cherry red lips. He tries to be polite and gentlemanly, but whenever he looks at her, he finds his gaze inevitably falling there before he can correct himself. Zen speaks nonsense more than he speaks anything approaching comprehensible language, but...for once he isn't completely wrong.

Wild, unfair, inappropriate thoughts flash through his mind whenever he looks over and sees her near him, when she speaks to him and he's suddenly reminded by the sound of her voice breaking the silence that he isn't alone in his penthouse, and when she smiles and he can't help looking at her lips.

Unlike what Zen thinks, he's completely in control of himself. Mostly. Well enough. But most pressing, most urgent and repeating of those unfair thoughts is gathering her up and kissing her.

Not just one way, not just in one instance. He thinks of kissing her in so many different ways. Over the first cup of coffee, while she looks so cute and groggy in the morning, gaze flickering between the pancakes he's made and him - he wants to lean in and press his lips to hers, to see if she tastes like the sweet cream she's drinking. When he turns the corner and she's there, looking up in surprise and a sparkle of excitement, he wants to pull her in gently with his hands on her jaw and tenderly place a kiss on her cute expression. When he reaches over to brush hair from her face as she's reading something and she looks up at him with laughter in her eyes, he wants to close the distance right then and kiss her in that utterly theatrical and steamy way he's seen on television.

It's somewhat disturbing, in all honesty, the fact that he can't keep his mind off it. Even after Elizabeth the 3rd ran away, when his mind should be focused on the cat, it keeps drifting back to her, back to kissing her, without his permission.

The daydream he's living with this wonderful woman at his side is interrupted by that Sarah. The irritating one who invaded his privacy in the past. She's mouthy and loud, and the sound of her voice sets him on edge. She'd learned of the missing Elizabeth, and in a pathetic attempt to either curry favor or trap him, she'd arrived with the picture of...a stock image of a cat, obviously found on google.

Perhaps more insulting than intruding on his life to lie to him about his cat, she harangues and harasses the woman beside him, insulting her in a pathetic display of misplaced jealousy.

She kept reassuring Sarah that they were only friends, and that she was simply visiting because she worried for him.

It's...true...but he finds he doesn't like it. It makes him feel restless, and the need to kiss her, to make his intentions and his feelings about her known clearly and unambiguously only becomes greater. A part of him really just wants to kiss her right there in front of Sarah. To take the pressure of a first kiss off somewhat by redirecting it into pettiness by expressing in no uncertain terms that the woman he's chosen to love forever is not Sarah, but this one.

Sarah storms out flustered and angry before he can commit to actually doing it, and the woman he loves - he certainly loves her, of that he has no doubt nor question - smiles up at him nervous and awkward, and he nearly kisses her then and there anyway.

It's honestly annoying how much he can't stop thinking about kissing her. He's noticeably distracted, as he turns over in his mind the different ways it could happen, whether it should be a surprise of passion, an almost awkward and uncertain slow descent to give her opportunity to reject him, or an over the top romantic moment at the end of some...romance movie in the candlelight.

All he knows for sure is that he absolutely, definitely, must kiss this woman. He'll go mad if he doesn't, and frankly it's starting to hurt his heart not making it clear that what he feels for her isn't simply an innocent friendship. He's quite sure she feels the same, but even if she were not to, it's better to be honest and straightforward than bury it and hide it away. Especially from her. Somehow, it feels like she can already see and accept so much of him, it's an insult to suggest even in his mind that she can't accept all of him, even if she doesn't return those feelings.

It doesn't happen that night, but he can't sleep at all. He reads a story for her - that story - to help her fall asleep, and he can't take his eyes off her while she sleeps. He's never slept alongside anyone. As long as he can remember, even in his earliest memories, he's always been alone in bed, alone in his room, save for Elizabeth who would usually sleep in her bed on the other side of the room. It's not like he's never seen a human sleep before, or anything. Obviously.

But...to be trusted to share this quiet time, someone at their most peaceful and vulnerable...he's never experienced. It's strange. She looks magical. Like Sleeping Beauty, lips slightly parted in breath, eyes flicking this way and that in her dreams. She's so still besides that, he almost believes that she might never wake up on her own, like with the morning light he'll have to kiss her just to wake her up from her dreams.

He's entranced. Enchanted. There can't be anything more beautiful in the world than what he sees, and he's afraid to look away or close his eyes in fear that it will be gone when he opens his eyes.

He doesn't kiss her, but she wakes up just as beautifully as Snow White, groggy and messy haired, rubbing the back of her hand at bleary eyes.

Is this really what love feels like?

How does anyone concentrate like this?

He makes her pancakes again, and she lights up in such a cute and happy smile once more, commenting on the strawberries from last time, that he has the sudden urge to hire that one chef to teach him how to make everything, just so he can make her food every day, every meal, and watch her smile like that each time.

He still manages to resist the urge to lean over the counter and kiss her, only because he doesn't want to make the smile go away.

She tears into the food like a wild beast. It's both impressive and adorable. Hers is gone long before his, but that might have more to do with the way his gaze keeps turning from his food to her instead, sitting across from him, so close and yet so far, within reach if he only reaches out to touch her, but still so far away that a part of his heart aches and he doesn't know why.

When she finishes, there's strawberry jam smeared across her lips, just a little bit collected in the corner of her mouth as well.

She tastes like strawberries and cream.

Before he'd really committed to it or decided on it for certain, he'd leaned across the table and pressed his lips to hers, body taking the excuse of helping her to clean her lips even before he realizes that's what he's going to do. Perhaps it's not the most dramatic or romantic of kisses. Strawberries, whipped cream, and the sweet taste of pancakes all blended with the taste of her lips on his, and he gently reaches up with one hand to hold her in place just a little longer, savoring the taste of her, the experience of their first kiss.

The sound that vibrates from her throat, escaping her lips against his when he unconsciously attempts to taste her lips more directly, makes him feel light-headed.

Perhaps the table between them is for the best, because he's so close to being overwhelmed and swept away with the magic of flesh on flesh that there's no telling what would happen if not for the slightly painful press of wood cutting into his abdomen and shielding her against anything he might think to do.

When he finally manages to pull away, her cheeks are flushed so beautifully that it takes his breath away all over again.

Much as he would like to make perfect sense and make it seem logical, he fears that his hurried explanation doesn't actually make sense at all. And still, she doesn't look worried or upset...only shy, smiling bashfully up at him from across the table.

Of course, as she says, there truly are more pressing concerns just now, but still...

Somehow...it's easier to think again, now that he's finally managed to kiss her. Those suffocating threads around his heart loosen, just a little, and when her hand gently settles over his on the table, he can't help but notice that it's finally been given enough room to race.

[laequiem]

She kills my self control - Chapter 7

I take Jude’s gloved hand and I am reminded of the other time I held her hand, cold and shaking while she stood almost naked in front of the whole class. Then, she was euphoric and giddy. Now, it is the real Jude who stands in front of me: mutinous and dangerous, though something else seems to cross her features… relief? This is the fierce Jude I see in my nightmares, my fantasies; not the submissive mess from that day.

cw: unhealthy coping mechanisms (alcohol, sex); physical abuse; nsfw

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Chapter 7. Looks like magic's solely yours tonight

The day of Dain’s coronation has come. I am expected to stand on the dais with my family and there is no way I will be sober for this. So I drank as I got dressed. I drank as a servant did my hair and I did my makeup. To my intoxicated eyes, it looks good.

When I get to the palace, I quickly scan the throne room for my friends. Locke and Nicasia are swirling around the dance floor together. Valerian is nowhere to be seen. Most importantly, I spot my most loyal friend tucked in the corner of the room: booze. I strut over to the drinks table and fill a glass to the brim with gold-flecked wine. I suspect I will have a glass of each kind of wine by the end of the day.

As I start sipping, no, guzzling my glass, I notice Taryn standing by herself a few meters away, shyly looking at the Folk dancing. She is clutching a small glass of dark red wine. I slide to her side and offer her my empty hand.

“If you want to dance, I will stop you before you dance yourself to death.”

The sound of my voice makes her jump. “Oh, apologies,” she stammers and bobs a curtsy, “Hello, Prince Cardan.”

She must have been lost deeply in her thoughts. I follow her gaze and see she is looking at Locke and Nicasia. I cannot help myself.

“Why do you let him play you?”

Taryn turns and squints at me suspiciously.

“We have an agreement.”

I raise a brow in interest, “Do you, now.”

She sighs.

“He says your kind does not love the way we do. But,” she gives me a tentative smile, “I think things will change today.”

It takes all my will not to roll my eyes. I do not think Locke plans on ending his game so abruptly.

I take Taryn's hand and kiss it. “Well, enjoy yourself.”

I drag a nearby Fae into a dance. I alternate between refilling my glass and spinning new partners across the dance floor until I spot  her  and my breath catches.

Jude Duarte is dancing with Locke. She is wearing the dress I commissioned the tailor to make, her skirt a dark forest I would gladly get lost in. I have to remember to pay the tailor double, it is even more beautiful than what I had in mind. How can others look at anyone but her? 

I feel the cruel prince mask I keep on myself slipping. My gaze is focused on Jude, everyone and everything else a blur. The next thing I know, I am swaying across the dancefloor until I reach the dancing couple.

“Time to change partners,” I announce coldly, staring at Locke, “Oh, did I steal your line?”

I take Jude’s gloved hand and I am reminded of the other time I held her hand, cold and shaking while she stood almost naked in front of the whole class. Then, she was euphoric and giddy. Now, it is the real Jude who stands in front of me: mutinous and dangerous, though something else seems to cross her features… relief? This is the fierce Jude I see in my nightmares, my fantasies; not the submissive mess from that day.

“What do you want?” she snaps, “Go ahead. Insult me.”

I wish I could. Humiliating her used to be easy, when she was nothing more than an useless mortal I saw at school. Someone else to annoy for attention. 

“I don’t take commands from mortals,” I taunt. 

At least provocation still comes naturally. She does not look as angry as I expected her to.

“So you’re going to say something nice? I don’t think so. Faeries can’t lie.”

In another life, perhaps I would have written an ode to her beauty, to charm her and take her to bed. In this life, I am the unwanted Prince of Faerie, somehow both above and below her.  Will I ever get an opportunity to be close to her again? The thought makes me slide my hands from her waist to her hips, savoring every moment of it.

“You really hate me, don’t you?”

Do I want her to hate me? She must. Everyone does. Maybe if I hear her say it, I can get her out of my head… or maybe it will make me want her more. Sex and hate go so well together. 

“Almost as much as you hate me.”

I wish what I felt for her was only hate. Hate is the language I was raised with, it is all I know. What I feel for Jude is foreign to me. Lust? Definitely. Fear? Somewhat. Sprinkle on some kind of degenerate fascination. 

“Until we spar again.”

I bow, then disappear into the crowd to get another drink. I fill my glass with a pale greenish wine and down it in one gulp. I need more.

“Cardan,” a stern voice calls from behind me.

I freeze for a second, then pour myself another glass without looking. “Brother.”

Balekin puts a rough hand on my shoulder and spins me around to face him. I sway a little, dizzy, trying to keep to my feet.

“Pathetic,” he spits. For a moment, I am convinced he is going to slap me. He doesn’t. “Can’t you behave for once in your miserable life? You’re a disgrace.”

He takes my glass from my hand and sends it shattering on the floor. Some guests look at us, but quickly find something else to pay attention to. 

“Sober up and join us on the dais.”

I snort and make my way towards the dais. I trudge through the crowd, denser the closest I get to the front, until my boot catches on a root emerging from the mossy floor. In my drunken desperation, I grab at the nearest person’s clothes for balance and accidentally drag them down with me. 

I look up and see who I dragged down with me. The pitch black eyes of the girl I tumbled at Locke’s party are staring right at me from under a silver mask. I grin at her wickedly. She apologizes profusely, but once she sees my expression, she grins back at me. 

When we get up, I do not go towards the dais. We run, giggling foolishly, towards my father’s old cellars. Since most of the guards are posted around the main room, nobody stops me as I unlock the door leading to the wine cellar and help the girl down.

“Any preference?”, I purr as I browse the shelves. 

She shakes her head. I take out a bottle of a thick green liquid. It is a foul drink made with spruce needles and sap, but it packs quite a punch. I uncork the bottle and hand it to her with a wink.

She grimaces as she takes her first sip, some of it spilling down her chin as she tries to swallow it down. I laugh, then drag my tongue up her throat to catch the liquor. I reach her lips and she opens up for me, kissing me back passionately. I am so drunk that she looks exactly like Jude. My mind blurs her skin to look tan and smooth. I do not feel guilty for missing the coronation, this is wonderful. My family sees me as the prince of debauchery, and so I shall be. In one swift motion, I tear the top of her dress. She laughs as I pour liquor down her chest and drink it from between her breasts. 

When I lean down to take the bottle again, I tumble forward and pass out. 

-----------------------

I am dragged from unconsciousness by what feels like a sudden change in air pressure. The air is slightly more dense and harder to breathe. Even having never heard of this happening, I understand somewhat: my father has relinquished the Blood Crown. Elfhame is waiting for its new ruler to be crowned and I, its disappointment of a prince, is missing the coronation.

[pen-of-roses]

WHG-Conor 1

Stepping into the apartments for the captured almost came as a relief.

Almost.

The smug and confident whispers that surrounded this new group were stifling as ever as always. Give anyone enough power and they think they can control everything, that they know the course of the Fates. How horribly boring for them.

On the other hand, the hint of determination, whispering promises to escape to not submit to this were a joy. The hint of despair and hopelessness whispering of failure were not. They would prove less likely to act, less likely to sway into action off their paths. At least smugness made people easier to manipulate. Easier to veer of course.

No, these whispers simply would not do. Would not do at all.

Others had been sent down as well, and he walked behind them until the helpless feeling seemed to turn from a whisper to a scream behind one door in particular.  Wordlessly, he slipped from his position behind them, if they’d even noticed him there to begin with, and through the door.

The little assassin that had been reaped with Reine sat starring unfocused at the wall, curled in on herself. It took all his self-control not to scowl.

“And here I sense more fire and determination in you before the Games. This is just sad really, after everything I heard about not giving up, about finding a way to survive.”

“Whatever you want, I don’t care.”

“You should. Or have you really abandoned yourself so thoroughly? If there’s one thing I can’t stand it’s people not being true to themselves.”

She glared up at him, though the expression was dampened somewhat by the exhaustion that screamed in the air around her. Still, the spike of anger sounded like music. Good, there was something in there after all.

“You still have something to fight for you know. There is a chance to escape.”

“We failed. There’s nothing.”

“You failed, the others did not. Despite what you might have believed, you are all still alive yes? No longer trapped in the Games, a feat that should have been impossible. It speaks of many doesn’t it? People to valuable to risk the deaths of.”

“I don’t have time for your games, just say what you came to and get out of my hair.”

His lip twitched down unconsciously at the address. It’s not like she had much else to do after all, she should be honored he even deigned to entertain-no. Getting upset would do nothing in this instance. “They’re keeping you alive for a reason. They went so far as to free multiple of you from the Games. What purpose would that serve them if it wasn’t something deeply important?” There it was the trill of curiosity and hope. “You value knowledge if not your own life, don’t you? Use it. Or else who knows where your little friends might end up. Tell me, are you really ready for more blood on your hands?”

She froze at the words but forced herself to relax. “And why would I trust you?”

“Why indeed?” His grin was all teeth. “I have very little interest in seeing any of you perish. And I hate to see such a spirit as yours wither up and die, it would make life just a little bit more boring. But I believe I’ve said all you’re willing to listen to, so I do hope you think over my words.”

Confusion whistled around her, but it was enough to dampen the wailing of her earlier despair and sounded lovely with the growing curiosity. Yes, that was much better. Get her thinking and who knows where it could lead? Her refusal to fight in the Games had already caused a stir, but a refusal to fight back now would do no good. Asking questions though, that could always lead to answers and reactions he could watch.

Besides, she knew the most about them. Get her to ask the right questions and he might get his own answers sooner or later.

But as for right now...

There was a spike of anger and defiance that had seemed to just beg him to investigate and who was he to deny such a request?

His grin returned full force when he slipped into the room the other two he had come down with were leaving to find District Ten’s thieving little tribute inside. Oh, but she was so much more than that now, wasn’t she? Leaning against the wall, he casually raised an eyebrow, "I must say, you are far more interesting than I first thought. Though I suppose you've been hearing that far too often as of late."

“And you’re looking remarkably less ridiculous than the last time I saw you.”

“Oh good, you recognized me, I was deeply worried you wouldn’t under all that. But I suppose you did go through all that effort to steal from me with my dear star’s help I presume.” Would likely have been the only way her attack dog—or rather cat—let anyone who wasn’t supposed to be there near the floor. The gall to actually steal from one of them! But then, it had been far too long since an actual challenge and he was never one to shy away from those that brought a little more chaos in their wake.

"Nah. That was all me. And by the way, I had my stylist burn those hideous gloves after the interview."

Her words hum with the lie at the beginning, as well as the slightest hint of...anger? Wariness might be the better word. But she’s not backing down from the challenge. Interesting. Still, the fact that she burned something of his-no. Don’t get distracted. "Burn, really? And here I thought you had an affinity for ice that would prevent such a thing. Still, doesn't really matter now that you're here. I was so worried after I discovered that lovely little trick that I wouldn't get a chance to properly meet you, that the Games would claim you well before ally cat and I arrived with your crew to aid the escape. But imagine my surprise when instead you were delivered to my newest interest?"

“Hmm.” Confusion whined around her as she looked him up and down. “Those are a lot of vague claims that I don’t have time to unpack right now. So, what can I do to placate your interest?”

“This.” He spread his arms, savoring the building melody of her confusion and wariness. “Your very existence is interesting to me from what I've been hearing, about how you shouldn't exist. It's different and new and exciting. Here I thought you and my lovely Reine would cause an uproar here for me to watch with your escape. Instead, I discover a strange group of people, these Shades, working for the Capitol with powers I haven't seen before, which is really quite impressive, Pirate,” the reminder caused a stir but she did well in hiding it. Interesting. "After all we've been around for quite a long time. She did tell you that right? Or I'm sure you're clever enough to have seen the signs of it anyway."

Curiosity at that. So he’d been right, as much as she may have fancied the girl his star hadn’t felt the need to expose them. Shame, she’d been so much more fun when she cared less about those pesky rules.

Triel recaptured his attention with her own little bow, how adorable. "I'm honored that my existence intrigues you. Would you like my whole life story, or just the paraphrased version?"

It had been too long since someone new had spared with him like this. He missed it. "Oh, I like you. Yes, it seems I wasn't off the mark here, you will be so much fun to watch as this all plays out. Your loyalty is inspiring, truly. I am curious what you will actually tell me of your life though? To give you this much fire after everything when even poor rainbow is beside herself over losing you. If you will indulge me Pirate?" He returned the bow.

"Well, it all started when my father told me that I should have never been born. So, I ran away and joined some pirates. And did I tell you that Churi was my father? I bet you've seen him. That's why he hates my guts." She forced tears and a crack in her words, but her emotions held the same hum.

Well, he always did love a good tale.

"Oh shall I get some popcorn for this beautiful tale you are spinning? Tell me which of the higher ups in the Capitol is the mother?" He feigned a gasp, "Oh don't tell me, President Snow is the wealthy uncle who will leave you everything in the end after a dramatic murder? Though I do think your acting may need a little work, not quite as sharp as your words."

“Joke's on you, I was making it obvious. And I hadn't thought about President Snow being the wealthy uncle. You think he'd bust me out of here?"

"Hardly seems the type, no see,” he easily slipped into the storyteller role, “you can't find out about it until after the death because then there's the will explaining how the entire thing was an act to keep you safe, but the untimely death means there's no one else to continue his work, no? Of course, I'd say that's when you discover the whole secret world full of magic and impossibilities and whatever unique power runs through your blood, but it seems you've skipped that part."

“And what part would you play in this story?” There was a lovely trill of wariness as she eyed him now. Good, she was smart, and not easily taken by his words. Yes, he liked her quite a lot.

He pretended to think for a moment, eyes catching on the time momentarily, "I suppose that depends on who is telling the story. Whatever best fits my desires at the moment. Currently? The audience watching what'll happen next, when you'll make your next move to escape this because you hardly seem the type to just sit by, and what this shady organization will do to try and stop this and spin the narrative in their favor. Though I suppose now I should play the distant old friend who shows up in time for dear Reine to cry on the shoulder of about failing you."

A hint of fear. So she was concerned for her as well?

She nodded. "So, since you are part of the audience, you must be satisfied to see the protagonist, so, in order to not bore you, you should probably take your leave."

Aww and here they were getting to be such good friends. But what a good little hero she would make in this tale after all. If that fire persisted, she could do wonders on this strange group and the Capitol. Alas, he really did need to meet them before they became suspicious. Shame.

He bowed slowly, never breaking eye contact, “It was a pleasure to finally meet you Triel. I am sure you will not disappoint me in your endeavors.”

Indeed, she would not. With the right push, if the people adored her or were half as interested, her escape—because she would try again, no way someone with that fire would sit quietly by—why it might just cause a riot. An uproar and spark that could cover his trail and provide just enough entertainment to be worth the effort.

And that wit...it was too soon to say, but he’d definitely need to keep a close eye on this particular person.

"I'm sure I'll see you clapping in the audience soon enough."

"Unless I'm need elsewhere of course,” he offers with a wink before taking his leave. There were things to put into motion after all.

. WHG tag list: @concealeddarkness13 @maple-writes @ratracechronicler @thoughts-of-nora @knmartinshouldbewriting @sparkles-and-hens @madammuffins Does anyone else want to be tagged in these?

[just-call-me-johnny-archive]

The following contains mentions/implications of abuse, attempted sexual harrassment, mentions/implications of past sexual abuse/assault, graphic depictions of homicide/torture, mentions/implications of past suicide attempts, implications of police/military violence. Reader discretion is advised.

Johnny didn't learn for a while what the house wanted from him. It was clear that it demanded something of him. The ceiling seemed too low, mold-ridden even if he couldn't see any. The floors were freezing- wooden and splintering, but he hadn't bled once despite getting some shards embedded painfully into his hands when he searched the ground for his pencils after the moon went down. 

Every number he called about the electricity going out lead to a dial tone. His phone was strangely the only electronic- the only appliance- that still worked in the house. He had no idea how much time had passed since he'd been left in the bathroom to die and woke up with stark scars on his forearms, the shower curtain draped over his body, and the bathtub dry as a bone. And Vargas gone. For good it seemed. 

He almost wanted to believe it was a nightmare- that it all was a nightmare. So he tried to pick his life back up as he stepped out of the bathtub and went to find clothes and the thermostat.

One day, he found a bill on the table in front of the TV. He couldn't remember when he'd received any mail recently- let alone opened it. Even stranger than the bill was the message that had been printed on it. There wasn't any amount under 'AMOUNT DUE.' The only other print on the paper was red text reading 'UTILITY SERVICE TERMINATED DUE TO NONPAYMENT. REMIT PAYMENT TO CONTINUE SERVICE.'

There wasn't an address or a phone number to contact regarding the bill. Johnny was left confused over how to alleviate this debt. He didn't know who, when, where, or what. The only thing that he still had control over was the 'how.' He needed a job. 

 After digging around for a week or so, Johnny managed to uncover his portfolio that he'd submitted copies of alongside Edgar. He was not about to go back there- they loved his boyfriend and always doubted Johnny's judgment. 

There was a new comic publishing company; a start-up with a promising, rich CEO that was recruiting new styles. Macabre. Gothic. Grotesque. Mindfuck. It was perfect for Johnny. 

He put on the best outfit from his closet, something with a blazer and no rips in the jeans. He'd done his hair until the two antennae that hung over his face were hidden amongst the rest of his combed blue hair. Johnny walked into the office feeling confident that his second chance at life had been a blessing or a reward for surviving. 

Everyone working at the company currently was skinny, wired, and brutal. Nobody seemed to actually be creating anything- instead, they were all busy working on photo manipulation and advertisements. There also seemed to be someone altering a passport photo meticulously. 

Johnny's meeting with the CEO started off alright enough. The man listened to the artist speak about his work and he even asked a few things here or there. He asked something about the paint choice and Johnny responded in a way that he hoped didn't sound too try hard but also genuine. In truth, Vargas didn't let him use anything else.

Maybe he could sense that. Maybe the man could tell that Johnny was an easy target. Maybe Johnny had painted 'patsy' on his forehead in asshole-vision invisible ink.

Whatever had caused the conversation to turn towards Johnny's personal life- particularly his relationship status- was unimportant. He wanted to leave, but he figured that the man would probably ask that for reference purposes or perhaps personally-identifying information. Johnny told the CEO that he was single, recently left a relationship with his ex-fiance. The way that the man reacted should have said enough to him, but he tried to reason with his brain; he was overreacting. 

But to put it crudely, the CEO wanted fresh meat and Johnny was a free-bleeding fresh cut. Eyes still clear. Silent like a fish out of water, when he moved over and started massaging Johnny's shoulders, saying how awful that must have been. That he was there for him. That he was recently divorced himself. He understood. 

Johnny felt his hand being moved, heard a zipper being pulled down, and when the CEO moved his mouth to press against his ear, all Johnny remembered was that he had the other man's letter opener embedded in the space directly below his eye socket. He registered the crack of bone giving under unforgiving metal. The burst of red sprayed across his face and his shirt. The screaming. His screaming. 

He was on his knees over the blubbering, defaced CEO shouting out as if he was emptying every last moment of anger or shame or hurt into the puncture marks that kept adding up. Johnny wasn't sure if he was crying or that his body was finally catching up- maybe he was having a heart attack. 

He has no idea how long he kneeled on the grimey black floor of the CEO's office before he realized that nobody was coming. Surely, someone must have heard them. Was the police waiting right outside the door- bullets trained on him- ready to shoot to kill? The man who was under Johnny's blade was miraculously still alive- dying- but still actually alive and he only then heard the tiny whimpers of 'please, don't kill me' 'I'll change.' 

Johnny grabbed the man's stripped, bloodied face, digging his fingernails into the wounds, and his heart sung with the screeches that rung throughout the office. There was nothing else there except for Johnny and the filth disguised as a human being. 

He listened to him plead, held his face in his hands as the man continues to plead pathetically. Johnny's heart nearly jumped this time when he claimed 'he'd change'.

"No; you won't." His voice was venomous, low and angry in a way that sounded calm. "You will never change. You know what happens when I give people like you the opportunity to change? Do you? They stop for a little while, sometimes days, sometimes decades, because they're so fucking scared for their life. For jail time, for repercussion, Hell maybe for the Devil himself coming to fuck them up the ass for what they've done. But when the Devil doesn't come, when the tabloids remain silent, when the name becomes deceased or missing or disappears completely, you go right back to what you'd been doing before. You put your fingers or your face or your dick wherever you want because you think you're untouchable. You think you are above the lives that you've ruined. You think that they deserve it- or maybe that you deserve it for being so good for so long, right? Well, guess what?" 

"You won't get to do that because I'm going to end your life right here, right now. I'm going to end whatever cycle of abuse that may or may have swept you up and corrupted you - brought you to believe you somehow are entitled to this pain that you inflict on others. And I'm going to enjoy it."

The man was able to only let out a sharp 'please, no' before Johnny grabbed his skull and twisted it until he heard a snap and the person below him had turned into a corpse. Into a past tense. 

He was coated in blood. 

Johnny dropped the body unceremoniously before he shakily got onto his feet. It was copious. It was gruesome. He threw up into a potted plant near the door. He gathered his portfolio into his arms and picked up his application from the CEO's desk. Johnny slipped the single piece of paper into the paper shredder, watching it turn into dozens of tiny bits of future bunny bedding.  

He braced himself before he stepped into the workplace. He expected a lot of things. He expected to see a huge stack of chairs and terrified workers huddled behind them like frightened raccoons. He expected SWAT, FBI, CSI, NCSI, the Navy, Army, Air Force, Coast Guard, and the Marines. He expected to have a bunch of horrified, traumatized faces staring back at him.

Instead, they looked annoyed. And the only people who were annoyed were the ones whose desks were closest to the CEO's office door. They glared at him, sneering like he was covered in shit and not in blood. Then they were completely disinterested. He was just some freak. They gossiped amongst themselves, but otherwise didn't approach Johnny. 

The man tore out of the comic publishing building and ran all the way home. It was midday- in the middle of December or January, where the sun was absent and the wind was unforgiving. Johnny had sweat through his stained clothing and the temperature change between the outside and the inside of his house was minute. The only shelter he had from the Winter chill was just covering from the elements.

Johnny walked into the bathroom and over to the bathtub and tossed the downed shower curtain out of the way. The water was freezing and felt like needles against even his clothed skin as he attempted to wash away the blood. It streamed down, staining the white porcelain as it streaked off of him and into the drain. 

The man had put his head against the tile, directly under the showerhead as he held himself. His eyes were shut tight, so it took him a moment of brief confusion before he opened his eyes to the bright lights of the bathroom and a gradually increasing warm shower. 

The water was perfect now and after getting past the initial shock, he undressed and continued to clean himself off the best he could. All that remained after he finished was the blood caked under his fingernails. He would cut them later. 

Johnny dried off using a somewhat warm, scruffy towel, it had been hanging there on the rack since he first awoke in the bathroom. He wrapped it around himself before he explored the rest of the house. It was warm, and the lights were all on. The electronics were all buzzing in a way they hadn't unless in memories. He opened the fridge and found that the food in there had not rotted. He picked out some lunch meat from a drawer and savored the usually incorrigible processed salty ham. He couldn't remember the last time he ate. Or the last time he slept. 

He needed clothes. He needed to get rid of the clothes at the bottom of his tub. Johnny went over to the bedroom where he hadn't tread since awakening. The light was on. The bed was still done but looked slept in. He went and grabbed the first shirt and pants and underwear that he found and then quickly went to clean up the mess in the bathroom.

He wrung the blazer out, pink-red water had poured and then streamed and then dribbled. He repeated this with the pants and then the shirt and his underwear and socks. His boots were not salvageable. That's fine. It was all fine. 

At least for now he did not have to immediately worry about paying the bill. In fact, the house felt warmer when he returned inside after he buried the clothes under the dirt of his dead front lawn. Johnny found a new paper attached to his freezer. He figured he'd missed it when he first went for the ham. 

He took it down after he grabbed a bag of microwavable pizza pocket bites. Johnny didn't know what it meant and how it happened, but he didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth. He was given another chance for a reason. He gnawed at his fingernails as he watched the plate spin in the microwave and the house hummed with life as it was finally fed.

'PAYMENT RECEIVED. 

UTILITY SERVICE WILL RESUME AS NORMAL. 

EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY. 

THANK YOU.' 

[axe-trio-commanders]

Immortality

Second time writing from one of several AU’s of my commanders! This one is... actually this one isn’t even really an AU, it’s. Actually just the cannon for someone else’s commanders, and we decided it’d be fun to put Seremnis in there. This fic is actually about the first time she more officially meets the rest of this universe’s Dragon’s Watch! It’s... it’s an eventful meeting. A whole big lot of lws4 spoilers inbound, as well as a... just a whole lot of blood and gore and Bad Dead Things Sounds. Not sure if it’s enough to count as the... actual body horror I was going for, but. Hey, these things never go as planned anyways, so... have fun! (Also blame @actually-an-octopus for... Well, this au specifically, but also all the other ones)

"The rumors of my... immortality, are drastically... understated..."

She watched, comfortably perched in a high, shadowed corner of the room. It was far from the first time she'd been there, listening in on the lich's various conversations- most of them overly long, drawn out monologues. Thorns, he could make a monologue out of anything. She'd expected this time to be different, considering how much planning he'd apparently done, but... there he was, still droning on, and on…

She looked to the white-furred charr he was trying to intimidate, almost completely ignoring the norn by her side... quite frankly, she wasn't surprised that the lich hadn't noticed her hiding spot. He had quite the tendency for tunnel vision, and it was especially apparent now- all the sylvari was surprised about was that the Vigil commander hadn't come with, though she did spot his deadeye warband member. She'd long-since stopped flinching at the crackling of the lich's bones, the way tar and dried skin squelched as he righted himself... she had spent far too much time in this palace. But, now that her commander was here, and she finally had a reason to…

She was sure there'd be backup. The commander of whispers wouldn't come without a plan for backup- but while they were waiting for backup to arrive…

The small sylvari dropped, soundlessly, to the floor, the light of various sigils on the floor and up her arms beginning to glow a harsh white. She felt power flowing into her form, bark snapping and beginning to drip sap that hit the floor with a dull hiss, and then- it burst, a spray of golden sap lost in the abrupt swirl of green and black fog, raw necromantic power just begging to be used- and, eyes on the opposing lich, she'd simply... let it. The floor turned to swiss as a hoard of unstable, screeching minions crawled out of it from some dark corner of the mists, flinging themselves at Joko in a bloody mass and quite literally exploding as he tried to gain control over them- and, well, of course, she'd take the opportunity to siphon what power she could. She simply... relished in it for a few moments, savoring the *rush* that a mild case of possession could give someone.

"You- heathen!" Joko shouted, flinging the last of the minions across the room as it spattered against the wall in a sickening crunch, blood coating the gilded walls in a fine mist as it, too, exploded. "You'd betray your benefactor in his moment of triumph?"

She let out a dark laugh, voice echoing and distorted as her ill-gotten form faded- and she'd let herself fall directly into her shade, dark shadows swallowing her form as she concentrated the power she'd stolen into volatile form. Her vision quickly went dark, excepting a few lights in the room- larger, smaller blue, dark orange, bright orange... sick, twisting, tumbling green and black- she'd let the energy loose towards that one, watching a portion of it dissipate into the air, scattered.

"...-ards! Fix this!"

Hm... more of them. Extensions of that sickly life force- oh so familiar. She heard the muffled sounds of notched arrows, grinning in a way only shades could. She'd simply... tilt her head to the side, feeling the small breeze of projectiles whizzing past- saw the new life force begin to drain out of them in thick globs, and pulling it to herself en masse with a mere twitch of a semi-physical finger.

It was muffled enough in her shade to ignore it as she continued her attack, but he was still talking. On fire as he might be, as much life force as she stole and ripped away, he still-

"Enough!"

The small sylvari stumbled back a step as she returned to her physical form, staff gripped in both hands. He hadn't really done that himself- she'd simply run out of excess life force- but she was content to let him think it was.

"You are no commander, no dragon-killer," the lich snarled, a chill running up her spine as the entire space cooled considerably. Sensible alternative to ice magic, in a desert. "And yet you think you have the ability to dethrone the magnificent lich-king?!"

She paused, straightening as if she had to take a moment to consider- only for him to interrupt again, circling her.

"I am immortal! You should know better, I've been teaching you for months! All that training to take the glorious position of my general, and this is-"

"Do you ever shut up?!" Seremnis snapped- watching with immense satisfaction as surprise, then outright rage showed itself upon the lich's face.

"You have no idea how much I've looked forward to this- just listening to you is nauseating, not to mention the actual smell," she continued- taking casual stock of the awakened beginning to fill the rafters.

"You..." the malice in the one word filled the room. "You were made to serve-"

"Do you really love your own voice that much?" She rolled past a barrage of arrows, waving her staff across the floor and listening to the sounds of archers scrambling over themselves to flee. "I'd bet if you ever got your own speeches recorded, you'd do nothing but listen to them as your whole kingdom fell around you."

"And you don't have a loyal bone in your body."

"Sylvari don't have bones."

"Then what-"

"Teeth aren't bones."

"Fine, not a loyal leaf. You think anyone in your precious Tyria will let you back in? You've sold your soul to the highest bidder twice."

Seremnis barked out a laugh, watching the lich step towards her, only to be surrounded in a pen of poison, chill, and a flurry of small, invisible cuts.

"You really think I was ever on your side? I asked for control of your soldiers and didn't bat an eye when I took more! You really never caught on until now?" She tilted her head, tutting. "I expected better from you."

"Oh, you want 'better'?"

Okay- okay, that had maybe been pushing it a little, but he kept leaving himself so wide open for-

Seremnis danced back as a near-hoard of awakened began piling into the room, the dark shape of a scythe extending from her staff as she placed mark upon mark in the room, tripping and stunning them en masse, barely flinching as attacks began landing; claws, dripping tar, tearing through soft bark, dark sludge mixing with bright sap.

"If you really fancy yourself a good enough lich to replace me, why not prove it?"

The lich's voice rang out clear over the sea of snarls, and she... considered it. Prove it, hm?

She stood, ignoring the teeth currently digging into arm- focusing, instead, on channeling her own necromantic power through the awakened around her- to force them to stop, force them to turn on their master- and, slowly... she felt the teeth in her arm remove themselves, watched as heads in the awakened crowd her around her slowly, jerkily... 

With the sound of bone in friction with bone, tar and organs crushed to compensate, they turned their heads towards Joko. And, sap dripping in a thick ooze down her back and arm, Seremnis allowed herself a sly grin. A 'better lich', hm? Oh, she'd wanted to try this for so long... It'd worked, always, when the lich wasn't paying attention- sending awakened off on long trips around Elona, by the caves under Istan, ignoring the ever-increasing number of Tyrian awakened who, mysteriously, never returned- but in front of him? Really, it could make a necromancer blush.

Unfortunately, Joko didn't seem to share the sentiment, and she felt the ground beneath her... shift- swirling into sand, pulling her just deep enough to bury her feet before surrounding her- digging into wounds, then further, into and down her throat- she felt the awakened return to shredding through what remained... Distantly, she heard the lich saying something along the lines of "Now, where were we?"

And she grinned, croaking out her last words- a sigil of healing glowing beneath the mass, the life force of every awakened around her abruptly portioned in order to extend her own life just a little longer.

"...The rumors of my immortality... are greatly..."

She only heard part of the enraged response of "NO!" before shadows crawled up her arm- once again enveloping her as she stood- once again pulling on the life force of the awakened as they stumbled and fell, feeling the satisfaction of rejuvenation.

Her voice, once again twisted and warped, finished her earlier statement as she concentrated her stolen power to once again unleash.

"...understated."

...What? He'd probably plagiarized it from somewhere, too.

...

"You... you were a far better fight than I thought you'd be," Joko drawled.

She could almost see his smug face- but only almost, given that her own face was currently pinned to the ground by a smelly, smelly lich foot. The dirt irritated the several lacerations on her face, even as that somewhat paled in comparison to the canid's claws digging into her side to keep her down- and... thhorns, she could feel them moving, pressing into raw 'muscle', but... somehow, all she could think about was how absolutely terrible a lich's feet smelled. Experiencing death so often gave one a strange perspective on things, she supposed.

"I suppose I did train you-"

"You've ignored me for the past five months."

She flinched as he dug the bottom of his staff into her shoulder, twisting into soft bark.

"Silence! You learned by my mere presence. An unfortunate side effect of being as great as I am."

She suppressed the urge to groan. He was still talking. But... in keeping his anger focused, in drawing out the fight as long as she could... she had successfully kept his focus off her commander. In that, at least, she'd won.

"Really, I should have expected such treachery from such a morally twisted thing like you, commander," he continued- almost as an afterthought.

Oh... ohh, she was in- so much pain, but she... still couldn't stop the little, childish giggle that escaped her. "Y... you've never given credit to the right person in your llife, have you?"

She let a moment pass, let the question hover.

"...You're really going to tell me this... disaster was your idea?" Joko muttered.

Seremnis smiled, innocence playing on a face it didn't belong to.

"All she asked me to do was watch Aurene."

A beat of silence, and then...

The window shattered.

...

...She didn't... have the energy left, to fall back into shade. To heal herself. Joko had started starving her of it midway through the fight- with how easy it was to draw out, it wasn't hard for her to believe that the lich had intended to make her suffer. But now, with the awakened, evidently, no longer a moral option...

...But Symph was here. She'd be okay. Her commander was…

A thought rather immediately backed by fact as she felt a purer healing magic flowing through her form- taking a deep breath, despite the pain it caused. She listened to the somewhat muffled conversation around her, felt the druid's old fern hound lightly nose her face, lamenting momentarily that she hadn't brought any treats for him.

It was... it was over. The awakened were free. It was over...

--

...She stood, leaning against a decorative pillar in one of the more... shaded areas of the fortress of Jahai. She was doing her best to ignore the sidelong glances every side of the debate was giving her- she was used to it, she told herself. She wasn't a new little Whispers recruit. She'd given just about every side a reason to be suspicious- betrayed the pact, then betrayed Joko... even before she'd done any substantial work, she'd heard the angry mutterings of anyone who knew her to be a necromancer.

...But she was used to that.

She took a long breath, wincing at the pain that still lingered from the rather deep wound in her side. It'd almost made her miss this thing- and even then, she'd had to make the trip with an escort. It would be worth it, though, as soon as everyone was here.

She'd narrow her eyes as the debate between the factions droned on, despite Symph's best attempts to placate them. Seremnis understood the importance of it, of course, but... she didn't exactly envy the position.

"...Now we can finally begin the main event."

Seremnis looked up- catching sight of the increase in Mordant Crescent around the room, saw their drawn weapons. She narrowed her eyes, starting to pull necromantic power around herself, listening... admittedly, only a little closer, as the Archon continued his rant. Injured or not, if anything happened to Symph now...

"Awakened, sunspears- you're all pathetic. And now? You're-"

And the crack of a shotgun resounded through the rotunda, the Archon stumbling forwards- turning, in rage, to confront whoever had fired. Seremnis... let her magic fall away again, a small smile on her face. Yes, he was right. The main event was here.

The Archon only had time to spit a few more insults before Koss had him more... permanently silenced, even as many others in the room continued to look for the source of the gunfire.

And when they found it…

Another crowd of awakened followed Koss into the room- one in front decidedly Asuran, blowing a small trail of smoke away from a crystal-formed rifle, her wide, sharp-toothed grin seeming permanently affixed to her face as she surveyed the room. She was far from the only one there- Pact insignias, armor and weapons littered the new crowd of charr, asura, norn- even a few sylvari were scattered among the many humans in the awakened crowd.

Every one of them, Seremnis recognized. She knew most of their names- had them written on a long paper list of those the Pact had lost to Joko. If she hadn't snuck them out of the palace herself, before getting caught...

Well, they were simply unaccounted disappearances from the stealth-trained units Joko had given her command over. The great lich had no reason to suspect her replacing disappearances, after all.

Even if every one of them had disappeared around Istan.

Even if over half of them had been former pact members.

Even if he'd lost a quarter of his forces by the time the commanders launched their attack on the fortress.

What reason would he ever have to suspect a soft little lone sylvari, when he had plagues and dragon-killing commanders to deal with?

...What? She had always wanted to try double-crossing someone.

[jetsetlife138]

39. “At least put your guards down for me.” Pairing: Beetlejuice x Reader Warnings: Fluff 

“Beetlejuice,” you began, your voice shaking. “How do I know that you won’t lose control again?” 

His expression was mischievous, but his body went rigid as he replied, “You don’t.” 

Disappointment ebbed through you at his lack of reassurance regarding your safety. You outwardly scoffed at his bluntness. “Thanks, Beej. That’s super comforting,” you replied sarcastically. 

Luckily, the sarcasm wasn’t lost on him and he smirked at your response. For an older ghost, you were surprised and also grateful that he adapted well to current culture. “Would you prefer if I lied to spare your fragile little feelings?” he teased, though his tone was serious. 

“No,” you snapped back, not appreciating his implication that you were weak. “But there’s no point in helping you if you’re going to continue on this path of destruction.” 

All humor had vanished from his face at that point and his eyes flashed at you in the darkness. He began to approach you slowly with a hungry glare, making you instinctively back up into a table, catching you off-guard. When you turned to face Beetlejuice again, he was directly in front of you, inches from your face. “Are you afraid of little ol’ me?” he breathed, his gaze flickering from your face to your body. 

Your heartbeat quickened as it pounded against your chest while you decided on your answer. “I’d be stupid not to be, right? That’s what you’re going to tell me?” 

“That doesn’t answer my question,” he spoke so lowly with such intimidation and captivation that you had to catch yourself from falling into a daze just staring at him, the way his lips formed each word that he spoke. 

You inhaled briefly, preparing yourself for the backlash of your answer. “No.” 

His brows furrowed slightly as he blinked a couple of times in disbelief, still coming impossibly closer to you. “No? You’re not afraid, huh?”

“I’m not,” you breathed, trying to maintain your train of thought. “I’m not afraid of what you are, Beetlejuice. I’m afraid of what you can do.” 

“Oh?” he replied, somewhat taken aback. “Care to elaborate on that?” 

You rolled your eyes, placing your hands on his shoulders and pushing slightly. “If you don’t already know what I mean by that, then there’s no point in talking about it further.” 

He remained unmoved, even after you pushed harder, indicating that you wanted him to back off of you. “Tell me, Y/N,” he demanded, his tone severe. 

“I’m done talking about this. I’m not getting into this with you right now after you just attacked me and nearly made me your next victim. Let me go, B.” 

He remained unmoved, his eyes searching yours for what seemed like an eternity until he apparently couldn’t help himself. He lifted his hand, causing you to flinch away instinctively as you had done previously in fear that he was going to pull some elaborate prank that made you fear for your life. Instead, he tenderly brushed the hair out of your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. 

His body was pressed against yours now as he entangled his fingers into your hair, settling his face in the crook of your neck while he brushed his lips against your pulse point. You trembled beneath his touch, but you didn’t know if it was from fear or arousal. Maybe both? It was ridiculously difficult to determine your feelings about him anymore. 

His voice rang through the room then, bringing you out of your mess of thoughts. “If you don’t tell me what you’re afraid I’ll do, I’ll just have to find out myself. And I promise you, babe… that won’t be as pleasant as it sounds.” 

You didn’t know if he was teasing you or making an actual threat, but considering what you just experienced minutes prior, you didn’t want to take the chance. “You have to know by now that you can destroy someone without actually killing them.” 

Lifting his head from your neck, he eyed you questioningly. “Maiming?” 

“Ugh,” you huffed. It was like speaking with a child sometimes. “No. Think of what it would have done to me if you had actually killed my friends just because they dared step foot into this house? I swear, you’re not happy unless you’re making out with someone or actively plotting their death.” “I’m just lookin’ for a good time, sweet cheeks. I don’t see anything wrong with that,” he snickered, which irritated you, causing you to glare at him. “That’s the problem!”

The demon said nothing, but you could tell that he was listening intently, trying to process your words. For all you knew, he was incapable of understanding such a thing considering he had never experienced friendship. Or, even love for that matter. At least, that’s what you had assumed. 

Looking away,  you continued. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m more afraid of what you can do to me while I’m alive than when I’m dead. If I help you, and you intend to be in my life, I need to know that everything’s going to be okay. If I helped you, and you ended up killing someone I love because I kept you in my life… it would destroy me, Beej. Do you understand?”

A slight smirk graced his lips as he mulled over your words. “The cute little breather wants to make a deal?”

“Haven’t I already made enough deals with you?” you scoffed. “No. No more deals, no more games. This is it. Either you can promise me that you can contain yourself or you can’t. It’s as simple as that.” 

“I can’t.” 

You held your breath at that. You must not have heard him right. He was literally deteriorating in front of you, and you were offering your help in exchange for something as small as a request to not hurt those you love, and he couldn’t abide by it?

“What?” you snapped back in response. 

He stepped back, his fingers flexing like he was trying to contain whatever emotion was building up inside of him. “I’m not a damn dog,” he spat, clearly irritated. “I’m not just going to sit around and wait for your permission to have fun. I have given you so much more leniency than I have given any other breather that’s come strolling through here, and still, you want more.” 

You blinked in disbelief, mouth agape trying to find the right retort. “You want me to be grateful that you haven’t killed me?” you practically snarled. “Fine, Beetlejuice. Thank you. Thank you for tormenting me every day with your creepy ghost presence and your fucked up sense of humor and the looming threat of death of those I love. Thank you for stressing me out with your plots of destruction and chaos. Thank you for trying to trick everyone into saying your stupid na-mnf.”

A finger was pressed to your lips suddenly and you realized that you had gotten so lost in your own ranting that you didn’t even notice him approaching you to the point where he was almost resting against you, his eyes blazing. 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he mocked, a sinister gleam in his eye. “So ungrateful. You’ve got no idea the things that I’ve done for you, babe.” 

“Really?!” You snapped back. “Granted, you haven’t killed me or my friends, yet, but I’ve had enough of your threats. Either kill me or don’t, because I’m done playing your games.” 

Turning your heel, you went to walk away, ignoring the fact that you had no idea where else to go, but that didn’t matter to you at that moment. However, before you could take a couple of steps, a hand wrapped around your wrist and spun you around so that you were flush against his chest, the chill of his skin radiating through his clothing. 

“Beej, what-” His lips crashed against yours, moving with such a desperate need that you felt like you could dissolve into him completely. The kiss was intense, almost angry in the way that he gripped you tightly against him, as if he were afraid that you would try to walk away again.  Your hands slipped up his torso and around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer as you kissed him back, a need that you didn’t realize you had clawing through your subconscious to get more and more of him. After a few more moments of contentment, you broke the kiss, licking your lips to savor the taste of him as he kept his eyes closed and pressed his forehead against yours. Brushing your lips against his as you spoke, you pleaded, “At least put your guards down for me. Just be real with me.” Pulling back, his eyes bore into yours as he contemplated your words. Finally, he replied, “I can try, babe. No promises.” “I can work with that,” you confirmed, smirking slightly. “For now.”

[ourloveisforthelovely]

To the Ends of the Earth 12

Supernatural 

A/n: OOC Gabriel. AU Story

Link to Chapter 11 

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader 

______

Adam looked up as Dean put a beer in front of him. Dean sat down and took a sip of his own drink. 

“So we are just going to let them go in there and screw each other?”

Adam finally asked. Dean looked up from his drink. Sam didn’t even bother moving away from his laptop. 

“Dude, I don’t want to think about what the two of them are in there doing. I am just fine living in ignorance.” 

Adam was silently looking between his older brothers with an expression of sheer disappointment. He didn’t care what Cas said. Soulmate genes be damned. Adam was not about to sit around and watch you become some fucked up statistic on angel/human relations. 

“This isn’t right!” 

Adam muttered. Dean rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, maybe it isn’t but we have no control in the matter. Y/n, is happy for once. Gabriel takes care of her.” 

Adam jumped up. 

“He was a drooling mess less than 10 hours ago. Now here he is back to having his way with her! What are we going to do when she gets pregnant with one of those things?!”

Jack frowned, this time he was mad. He stood up and rounded on Adam. 

“Things? Excuse me? I am not a thing. I am a nephilim.” 

Sam quickly stood up  and held out his hands. He needed to put a stop to this argument before something bad happened! The last thing that he wanted was for Jack to lose his temper. 

“Jack, Adam. Please. That’s enough. We need to stop arguing with each other. We are all on the same side. Y/n and Gabriel will be fine.” 

Dean, meanwhile, sat frozen. For some stupid reason, he didn’t even think of Gabriel and yourself creating a nephilim and he was furious with himself. Dean was the one that automatically thought about these things and for once he was off in left field! Adam totally made a fair point! 

Dean knew that Gabriel stopped anything like that from happening. Now, however, with his grace depleted would he be able to? 

“Maybe one of you should go have the talk with him?”

Adam suggested, rolling his eyes for the thousandth time of the day. Sam and Dean both shook their heads. 

“I am not about to go have the sex talk with our sister and her boyfriend...husband...whatever the hell he is. If you want to then be our guest, Adam.” 

Adam shook his head and stood up. 

“Since I am the only one concerned with our sister’s life, I am going to try to find a way to break this ridiculous bond.”

Dean jumped up, looking furious. 

“You stop right there! Adam, you are not the only one that is concerned with Y/n’s safety. I am not loving the two of being together but you know what? It isn’t fucking up to me! Besides, Gabriel has done fine by me for now.” 

Adam didn’t back down. He didn’t care that Dean could knock him through a wall if he tried hard enough. At the moment, all Adam could see was red. He couldn’t get it through his mind how Sam and Dean could just sit back and let this happen. It was like some fucked up Jurassic Park “life finds a way” shit that Adam just couldn’t handle! 

“So what? He saved her from demons! I am sure that you two have saved her from a lot worse. Rapunzel needs to stay in her tower if you ask me.” 

Dean rolled his eyes. He couldn't believe that he was really standing up for Gabriel himself. Had someone told Dean a few months ago that he would be in the archangel’s corner, he would have laughed in their faces! 

“She isn’t Rapunzel and this is not a damn fairy tale. Gabriel saved her and that is all that matters to me.”

Adam took a deep breath before turning.

“Well, I am going to bed. I have had enough of angels for today.” 

Dean sat back down to finish his beer. 

“That is probably a good idea.” 

(meanwhile)

You sat on Gabriel's lap as he kissed your neck and collarbone. God, had it really been this long since his hands were on you. Right as he bit down someone was knocking on the door. Gabriel sat up straight before meeting your confused gaze. 

“One second, sweetheart. I’m going to go scare whoever the fuck that is away.” 

Gabriel slowly scooted away from you and went to the door. He waited until you covered your bare breasts up before cracking it enough. Gabriel sighed, seeing Adam on the other side looking pissy as hell. 

“Can I help you?”

Gabriel asked, trying to keep his tone somewhat nice. Adam frowned. 

“I need to talk to you about my sister.” 

Gabriel glanced over his shoulder at your naked form. You lowered your arms enough to press your breasts together and smirked when his eyes widened. Gabriel quickly turned back to Adam.

“Can you leave and come back later? We are busy at the moment.”

Adam shook his head. 

“No, I need to talk to you now. When my sister’s safety is at risk, you can make time.” 

Gabriel frowned. 

“I’m not going to kill her.” 

“I don’t want to think about what you are going to do to her.” 

Adam replied coldly. Gabriel raised an eyebrow and had to fight the urge to push the kid away.

“You know, it's really nice that you are sticking up for your sister’s honor...or whatever you’re doing but just an FYI....this isn’t ending so why don’t you just go scurry off somewhere?”

Adam shook his head. 

“Not happening.” 

Gabriel rolled his eyes. His temper was quickly beginning to fade to zero. The kid was playing with fire. Whether Gabriel’s grace was low or not, he knew that he would be able to hurt the kid fairly and efficiently. 

“Bye Felicia.” 

Gabriel said with a smirk before shutting the door. He returned to the couch and pulled you back on his lap. You gave him an innocent smirk as Gabriel returned back to your collarbone. He pressed a few kisses to your skin before letting one hand cup one of your breasts. 

“Your brother has control issues.” 

You sighed. 

“Can we not talk about Adam when we are about to fuck each other’s brains out?” 

Gabriel raised an eyebrow before picking you up and carrying you to the bed.  Laying you back, Gabriel tried to remember the last time that he had touched you but was sadly not able to. Whatever Michael and Raphael did to him really did the trick. At the moment, it didn’t matter. All that mattered to Gabriel was how beautiful you were. The best part about it was you were all his. Everything about you was his! For once, Gabriel had something that he didn’t have to share with anyone else.  

“Gabriel.”

You said his name softly. From your place on the bed, you watched as Gabriel looked your naked body over. His eyes were clearly pleased with everything that he saw. You smiled at the memory of the first time he was you naked. The poor angel wouldn’t look at you for a good few moments until you convinced him everything was okay. He almost looked bewildered. 

“Sugar…”

Your green eyes rolled to his golden ones. Gabriel bit his lip before he quickly undressed himself to join you in bed.  

“I have a feeling that I am going to be missing my grace for the next bit.” 

He said, taking his place between your legs. You pulled his mouth back to yours not wanting to waste a minute away from him. 

“Everything will be okay.” 

You muttered between kisses. Gabriel sighed against your lips. You were forever the optimist. He didn’t want to think about the dark thoughts that had slowly crept into his brain about his grace being low but he couldn't help it. 

The moment that you hand stroked over his back, Gabriel froze. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t able to make his wings show at the moment. Feeling you stroke that place where his wings would be was enough of a turn on to drive him crazy. Gabriel rocked his hips against your thigh leaving you panting against his mouth. 

“I thought that we didn’t have to rush?”

You said with a devious little smirk. Gabriel rolled his eyes. 

“I lied, princess. It's been three months. I want what's mine.”

You wanted to say something sassy but wasn’t able to. Gabriel had slipped a hand between your bodies and pressed on your clit. Stars and fireworks invaded your vision as you threw your head back into the pillow. 

“So wet, sweetheart.” 

Gabriel said in a low deep voice as he continued to work his hand over your most intimate of areas. 

“How many times have you touched yourself in the past few months?”

He asked. Your mind could barely register your words as Gabriel worked you through your orgasm. 

“Too many times to count.”

You managed to choke out. Gabriel took your right hand in his before slowly licking the length of your middle and index fingers. 

“With these two pretty little fingers?” 

You nodded, wildly. Gabriel chuckled before slowly getting off of you. He sat back on his heels as he placed your hand on your clit. 

“I want to see what you were doing.” 

“Gabe...just make love to me.”

You whined. Gabriel shook his head. 

“I want to see what you were doing without me. If you don’t show me then I won’t touch you.”

You sighed before stroking your index finger down the length of your slit before slowly inserting your fingers. Trying not to moan too loudly, as you scissored your fingers and teased at your clit. Your free hand went to squeeze your breast and tugged at your nipple. 

Gabriel sat watching with his lips pressed together. You were pleased to see that expression of lust written all over his face. 

“That’s it, sugar. Don’t come.”

He said softly as you continued to tease your aching pussy. You laid your head back on the pillow smiling at smooth sensations going through your body. 

The moment that Gabriel’s hand wrapped around your wrist and moved your hand away; your head snapped up. Golden eyes met yours as Gabriel lowered his mouth to your clit. With one swipe of his tongue, you nearly came apart. 

Gabriel closed his eyes and savored everything about the moment. He loved everything about you. The way you tasted. The way you moved under him...everything. 

“Gabriel, please. I can’t wait. We can play later.”

You cried. Gabriel’s honey eyes fluttered open as he looked up at you innocently.

“I haven’t got to kiss and taste every inch of you.”

You swallowed. 

“You can have anything you want. Please, don’t make me wait.” 

Gabriel slowly eased your legs apart before yanking you by your thighs to him. 

“Such a dirty girl.” 

He mused with a smile before easing himself into you. Both of you moaned at the instant delicious pressure. Gabriel had to clench his eyes closed. 

We are both going to hell for this but I don’t give a damn.

Gabriel thought as he gently rocked his hips into yours. You tightened your pussy around him almost sending the archangel over the edge. Your fingers clawed at the sheets frantically trying to find something to hold onto. Gabriel wasn’t close enough for you to grasp. He had moved enough to be out of your grabbing range. 

At the moment, you would have given anything to be able to see his wings! If you could just get your hands on them, you would have Gabriel exactly where you wanted him. You would have had the power and the archangel would have been willing putty in your hands instead of being in control.  

“Up.’

Gabriel snarled before pulling you by the hips to him. You threw a leg on either side of the archangel as he wrapped an arm around your waist. He thrusted up into you deeply not wanting to give you a moment to adjust to the new position. 

“Gabriel, I need to come.”

You whimpered, gently sucking his bottom lip between your own. Gabriel chuckled. You wanted to cry at that laugh. He wasn’t going to let you come...at least not yet. 

“Soon. I’ve got you, sweetheart.” 

The desperation in your voice was enough to make Gabriel swell with even more pride at his work. He knew exactly what you wanted and how to do it. Three months, four months, it didn’t matter. Gabriel knew what his woman wanted. He would drive you to the point of a shameless orgasm only to ease off and let you return to a flustered state. 

I wish I had my grace about now.

Gabriel thought as you tightened your arms around his shoulders. Again, he wanted nothing more than to wrap his wings around you. He was thankful that your eyes were closed in ecstasy so you wouldn’t have seen the unhappy expression on his face. Gabriel didn’t want to have to explain that he wasn’t happy with the situation. He was beyond happy to be making love to you. If he could just be making love to you constantly, he would have been happy. It was the fact that everything about him was jacked up. Everything that Gabriel could rely on before wasn’t working properly. He knew that you hated it but he missed being able to read your mind while making love. That was his way to know exactly what you wanted and how you wanted it. 

Your body tightening around him again pulled Gabriel back into the game. He reached up and tangled one hand in your hair and pulled your head back. Gabriel sucked a hand bruise into your neck as you screamed his name. If things had been normal, you would have prayed to him at the moment. That would have been enough to drive him crazy. Sure, screeching his name as he pummeled you was great but appeasing his prayer kink would have been even better. 

“Come, baby.”

Gabriel growled through gritted teeth as he snapped his hips once more. You didn’t need to be told twice as your body finally gave way and came around him. Gabriel groaned before cramming himself all the way in; fucking you as deeply as possible until he came inside of you. 

Neither of you moved for a moment. The two of you remained in the same position enjoying the closeness. You lay your head on his shoulder as Gabriel caught his breath. He tightened his arms around your body to cradle you as close as possible. You would have loved to have Gabriel’s wings wrapped around you at the moment. Coming down from a post orgasm high in that position was always your favorite! 

Gabriel moved to lay you back in the bed. You waited long enough for the archangel to lay down beside you before throwing your arms around him. Gabriel chuckled and wrapped the duvet around your bodies. 

“So the angel fell in love with the human?”

You said with a sleepy smile. Gabriel pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“Always. Love isn’t a strong enough word.” 

Gabriel tightened his hold on your body as you yawned. 

“Sleep, darling.” 

Right as the two of you were about to drift off there was a knock at the door. You quickly sat up and wrapped the duvet around your bare breasts as Gabriel looked for his abandoned jeans. 

“Adam, if that is you...we aren’t having another argument. I’ll win anyway.”

Gabriel snapped. 

“Not Adam. Jack. We have a slight problem in the library..”

You watched as Gabriel’s posture immediately changed hearing the tone in his nephew’s voice. As quickly as possible, the two of you dressed before quickly walking down the hall. You glanced at Gabriel’s face. His peaceful expression had vanished and back was that archangel scowl. 

“Gabe, can you tell what’s going on?”

He shook his head, clearly annoyed. 

“You know the answer to that.” 

The tone of his voice made you recoil. Gone was the archangel that adored everything about you. The archangel that wore the title of “heaven’s most deadly weapon” had returned. Maybe you were being over dramatic but Raphael’s comment about Gabriel’s “villainous side” came into the back of your mind.  

Stepping into the library, you decided to pull your mind out of your worries. It was a good thing that you did too. The moment that you looked up, you froze. Less than 10 feet away stood none of that than…

“Lucifer.” 

______

@brokencasbutt67-writer

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[smuttymess]

bts astro soulmate reading | for binta

sign: aries sun | capricorn moon | taurus rising

lover: park jimin | soulmate: kim seokjin

This reading is for Binta, a Minimoni double bias with a terrible case of Jungkook fever which she’ll likely never recover from. I really hope to be able to meet you post-COVID/general world mayhem. Please enjoy <3

Intelligent, strong-willed, perceptive - is there anything you can’t do when you put your mind to it, dear Aries? You are a force to be reckoned with, and there is no doubt that you make an impact in all areas of your life from work, friendships, and romance. It is this fire that draws people to you, and it is pretty common to find you in the center of attention in your social world, attracting friends and lovers alike. With your rising in Taurus, you are known to be practical, valuing a slow and steady approach to life that others see and appreciate. This level-headedness when paired with your ambition, means that you are trustworthy and able to see things through to completion. Valuing constancy in your life, you are able to achieve a nice balance given your ability to stick to your guns in all matters and rarely get distracted with frivolity. While you have your insecurities like anyone else, you are able to push these aside and focus on what is in front of you, which is the entire world at your feet. Your signature Aries assertiveness and Taurus practicality are nicely complimented by your Capricorn moon, which hides a softer, more sensual side which you know how to use wisely. It is not that you are disingenuous, but rather your gentler demeanor is somewhat of an persona that you can - and do - use to your advantage. Your most powerful self exists as a strong flame simmering beneath a calm, kind exterior that is both magnetic and enigmatic to those in your orbit. 

You, miss, are an opportunist. Not that this is a bad thing - its just that you know exactly what steps to take to get what you want. When you hear from a friend that Park Jimin will be in your city play at a secret show, you know at once that he is what you want. After all, you’ve been keeping tabs on him on social media and so why not shoot your shot? After all, despite your occasional self-doubt, you have an extremely high success rate. Equally alluring but seemingly aloof, it is not surprising when Jimin locks eyes with you from the stage during a particularly sexy section of the show. As with every time he is on stage, Jimin is is full Libra seduction mode, his fingers gently gripping the mic stand while fully immersed in the song. Occasionally lifting his eyes above the mic to stare at you before flashing a sly smile, you are fully aware that he is toying with you. Will you play?

In the game of flirtation, you are notoriously hard-to-get and he enjoys the chase. It is not until almost an hour after he converses with the numbers of fans that he saunters over to you, immediately disarming you with his signature irresistible charm. Your outer self wants to take things slowly, but your inner world wants to fuck him right then and there as he undresses you with his eyes. In talking to him, however, you sense an emotional depth to him that is hidden under the sultry stage persona - he is sweet, and even a little shy when met with your powerful gaze. It is this sweetness that you explore together in the hours, and eventually months, that follow this initial meeting. 

Jimin, the unattainable Libra celebrity that can have literally anyone he wants, is essentially putty in your hands as you start hooking up. His ability to lean back and happily let you take the ropes further enhancing the spectrum of your Aries confidence, allowing you to really shine. You two are polar opposite signs, with you drawn to his expressive, romantic and optimistic approach to life (thanks to Jupiter in Sagittarius) and he to your passionate, determined and fiery nature. While anyone could stimulate him physically, you turn him on with mental challenges and intellect. He is mystified by you and wants to do nothing more than please you. Sex with Jimin is light, energetic, fun - a lovely escape from the intensity of your daily life. There is no such thing as a quickie with him, as he wants to enjoy every moment with you, drawing out every bit of your orgasm before licking it all up. Jimin’s teasing nature does not end on stage, and it is unlikely you will ever meet someone else more skilled with foreplay than him. His goal is to make you shed your walls and make you entirely his, if only for the moment, before engulfing you in his arms and holding you close.

Ultimately, Jimin’s popularity and flirtatious tendencies along with your equally chaotic schedules prove to be too much for your romantic relationship to withstand as you are both prone to extreme jealousy. He adores you when he is with you, but cannot give you the full commitment that your sensitive heart desires (though you may never admit it.)  You find that your small arguments turn to larger ones more regularly, leaving you both unsettled and uncertain - with his Gemini moon much more sensitive to moods and irritability. When he is away, you find you spend more time worrying about his faithfulness than other areas of life, which you cannot afford to do when there is so much you want to explore and accomplish. However painful, it becomes necessary for you two to part ways - though not before fucking several more times.

It is likely that after the end of this unexpected relationship with Jimin that you seek solace in work projects, throwing yourself fully into your career. You enjoy environments where there are clear paths to growth, and the workplace is one space in which you truly excel, with an ability to work hard, accomplish tasks, and foster beneficial relationships along the way. This innate combination of intelligence and perceptiveness is what makes you one of the most successful signs of the zodiac.

This natural charisma is exactly what draws Kim Seokjin to you when you are both attending a company fundraising event at which he is a keynote speaker. Immediately upon laying eyes on him, you are drawn to his energy and charm (his Mercury in Scorpio in the spotlight.) The man knows how to work a room, in a genuine, strategic and precise manner that deeply appeals to your driven, passionate nature. Also, yes, he’s fucking gorgeous and you can’t help but imagine how he would look between your thighs. In that moment, you decide you must meet him and - in true Aries form - place yourself perfectly in his direct line of vision, effectively making sure he has no choice but to see you as he finishes shaking hands with benefactors and all the important executives. You can feel your hear race as his eyes move steadily from your eyes down the curves highlighted by your chosen dress for the evening.

Aries and Sagittarius are notoriously known for being fickle in terms of your relationships as you can quickly become bored, despite your deep desire for commitment. Soon into the dating process you realize your fiery signs may have found their match - keeping each other toes with your ability to juggle and hop between your vast interests and knowledge of everything from philosophy to travel to food, which you enjoy to the fullest. You appreciate his strength, confidence and his insatiable lust for life, which allows this less inhibited and spontaneous side of you to flourish as well, despite your initial stubbornness in wanting to follow the standard rules of dating and adhere to your rational "good girl” persona that you’ve built up over the years.

Jin takes your whole slow-and-steady, protocol-oriented mask and wholeheartedly rejects it, promptly throwing you into a whirlwind romance. Jin’s ethos is that life is meant to be experienced, savored and devoured - and he does that quite well. You’re pleasantly surprised to find yourself, on the third date, sky high in the passenger seat of a helicopter with Jin’s lips on your neck and fingers against your clit. Jin’s uninhibited spontaneity naturally extends into your sex life, which is intense, dynamic and fiery (of course). You two have no shortage of joint business events, on the way home from which you tear each others clothes off in a frenzy while he plants kisses all over your body. There is nothing that he enjoys more than hearing you moan his name into his ear, and no he does not care if it is in the back of his valet or against the floor-to-ceiling windows of whatever hotel he’s booked for the two of you that night. Jin’s range is extensive, moving from dominating and in control in the literal driver’s seat to completely submissive to your touch as your lips wrap around his cock while on your knees in front of the fireplace.  While not for public eyes whatsoever, he believes sex, like everything else, is meant to be enjoyed in all ways, in all forms, and all places, and he makes you feel secure in exploring this life accordingly with him by your side - or behind, or on top.

Ultimately, as a couple, you are able to achieve great things while as co-pilots. You are a great match matched in that both of you need to be moving at all times, either towards adventure or a new goal, and require independence on a deeper, more profound level than any other sign combo in the zodiac. You approach each others’ chaotic schedules with complete understanding, knowing that soon enough you’ll be met with a black car ready to take you to the jet to meet him at whatever location he has (spontaneously!) chosen on the map and for a proper reunion. Your Taurus rising can make you prone to stubbornness, preferring to stick to your guns over taking too much risk, and Jin is able to get your out of your own way and remind you of how amazing you are - even when you are feeling less than perfect. While he can be overly blunt and brash in his approach to communication, with patience you are able to access his more romantic, serious, passionate nature of his Venus in Capricorn which gives your emotional Capricorn the tenderness and care that it craves. You see through each others’ confident exteriors into your more sensitive sides, which you are able to reveal only to those you really trust. It is important for you to live authentically and without restriction, and in each other you find someone that is equally imperfect but also constantly strives for excellence in their everyday lives. Together, you build a harmonious life with equal parts adventure, friendship, spontaneity, comfort, and unbreakable trust. 

[shima-draws]

Yujikiri drabble? No other specifications

[[Send me a fandom/ship/prompt and I’ll write a drabble for it!]]

Me: Okay Shima it’s go time, let’s make this short and sweet, stick to the word limit, don’t get in over your head–

The drabble, ending up being 1.5k words: 

Me: God. Dammit. God. DAMMIT–

Well either way I finished it LMAO it’s 1k words longer than I planned but. Yeah. HERE YOU GO

(EDIT: Link to the AO3 version is up!)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy ^p^

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Eugeo thinks it’s a bit strange how much he prefers this sky to the one of Rulid.

This sky, streaked with shades of pink and purple and blue and dotted with fluffy clouds, isn’t even real—but then again, the sky in Underworld technically hadn’t been real either. There he couldn’t even tell that he was all artificial data, and that every blade of grass had been generated by a system. Here it’s a bit more obvious.

Even with ALO’s clear giveaways to being a virtual world, Eugeo still prefers it to home. He misses Rulid, fiercely, misses the dense forests and endless crop fields, the sound of bells ringing exactly on the hour and the quaint, easygoing atmosphere amongst the townsfolk. Even so, it can’t compare to this—to the vast, open sky begging to be explored by a pair of wings, to the realistic-feeling breeze swaying through the trees, and most importantly, to the person who is curled up fast asleep on his lap—and that person is more real, a more solidifying presence than anything in the world.

Eugeo hums a soft tune. It’s a lullaby his mother used to sing him as a child, and one of the only remnants of Underworld’s very existence. He combs his fingers through Kirito’s hair, who has his arms draped around Eugeo’s waist, a subtle lay to claim and gesture of affection. Eugeo’s been “awake” here in the real world for two months now, and Kirito is still insanely clingy. It’s definitely toned down a lot since his return, because Kirito doesn’t hover nearly as much as he used to, worry deep-rooted in his very expression, but Eugeo knows he won’t be off the hook for a while. (Dying would result in that kind of attachment, he supposes. Eugeo doesn’t blame Kirito, and wouldn’t want to be in any other position anyway.)

Eugeo gently tucks a stray strand of silky black hair behind Kirito’s ear, his finger catching on the tipped point of it. Fairies. He’d seen a lot of fantastical things in Underworld, but fairies were never part of that equation. Getting to be one is a whole other experience he never thought he’d be able to have. When he first joined ALO, walking on unsteady legs and getting used to the fact that his sword skills were all controlled by a system now, even more than they were back home—Kirito had dragged him up into the air and into a very informal and hasty flight test. Eugeo spent the day learning how to fly—to fly!—and had only crash landed a couple times, much to the black-haired hero’s chagrin. (Eugeo later learned from Leafa that Kirito’s first attempt at flight had not ended well. He supposes Kirito’s a bit jealous at how easily it was for him to master the art.)

He likes this world, more than he originally thought he would, and likes it even more because he gets to share it with Kirito. Kirito—and Alice, and the rest of the friends they’ve made. Eugeo had shared twelve years with Kirito, and it might be greedy to think so, but getting to share in more of his life is what he wants more than anything. The two of them have spent countless nights curled up together in Kirito’s bed, their legs entwined and their foreheads pressed together, talking about Kirito’s life. His childhood, his middle school years, everything in SAO, all the way up until his involvement with Rath.  Eugeo refuses to admit it, but he’d always clung tighter to Kirito whenever the raven admitted to doing something reckless, something that almost cost him his life—which was pretty much every other sentence of his story. Honestly. Why did Eugeo have to fall in love with such an idiot?

His idiot burrows deeper into his stomach, mumbling happily, and Eugeo fondly rolls his eyes. He’s still the same Kirito he’s always been, even now. Eugeo can’t resist smiling down at him, fingers combing through his hair, watching as Kirito’s lips twitch in the beginnings of a pleased grin. He’s still asleep, Eugeo knows—all too familiar with his sleeping patterns. But still, Kirito’s reaction causes a soft warmth to bloom in his chest.

He’s lucky.

He’s so very, very lucky.

Lucky to be alive, lucky to have made it out to the real world and not have been erased—lucky to have been able to reunite with Kirito, and more than anything, lucky to be able to hold him like this. To touch him, to be with him like this.

Eugeo resumes his humming, closing his eyes and savoring the moment. The air smells sweet, like flowers and rain. And Kirito. It smells like Kirito, too. Like home.

It is completely silent for a while, save the occasional chirp of a bird or rustle of the trees. But Eugeo is perceptive, more perceptive than most, so when his ears twitch and his gut tells him he’s no longer alone, he listens.

The bushes behind him are moving. Soon, a whisper follows after.

“I think I saw them go this way,” someone says, so quiet that if Eugeo weren’t straining to hear, their voice would be lost to the wind.

“Liz, I really don’t think this is a good id—“

“Come on! Don’t tell me you don’t want to see it too.”

Eugeo withholds a snort of amusement. He’s not surprised Liz is trying to sneak up on him—she’s done it plenty of times before. He relaxes a bit, fingers gently scruffing Kirito’s head, and waits.

The bushes shake again, leaves being brushed aside by their assailants. 

“Wait—wait, there! I see them.” Liz.

“Where’s Kirito-san—oh.” Silica.

A moment of silence.

“That’s adorable.” Totally sarcastic—Sinon.

“Look at them,” Liz grumbles. “The picture of perfection.”

“They deserve it,” Asuna states, although she sounds somewhat embarrassed. “And besides, it’s not like they can’t do these kinds of things—“

“They snuck off right after our mission briefing to cuddle! Klein owes me 500 Col.”

Silica sounds amused, yet incredulous. “You made bets on where they were going?”

“Hey, I’m not going to waste an opportunity to get free mone—“

“Are you done now?” Eugeo finally huffs, not even bothering to turn around. A chorus of surprised squeaks and a knowing scoff (Sinon) follow his outburst. He’d be laughing if he weren’t so affectionately irritated at them for interrupting his alone time with Kirito.

“Looks like we’ve been caught…” Silica laughs, and the four of them emerge from the undergrowth.

“How’d you even know we were here?” Liz whines, crossing her arms.

“Intuition,” Eugeo replies, sparing a glance at them over his shoulder. His hand never leaves Kirito’s head—instead he curls his other arm around the teen protectively, even though he knows there’s no threat.

Asuna gives Liz a pointed look. “You were being pretty loud, Liz.”

“I was not!” The pink-haired girl exclaims.

“It’s okay, Liz, we know you don’t have any tact,” Sinon teases.

“Wh—why are you all ganging up on me all of a sudden?!”

Eugeo chuckles at their antics as they bicker back and forth. Kirito certainly has an…interesting group of friends, that’s for sure.

“A-anyway, come on! You two have canoodled enough; it’s time to come back. We have a dungeon to raid and a boss to beat!” Liz declares, pointing a finger at the offending party.

“Okay, okay,” Eugeo chuckles. “Go on ahead, we’ll be there in a bit.”

At the reactions full of suspicion he gets, he hurriedly amends, “I swear! I just have to wake this doofus up.”

Liz snorts at that, her grin wide. “Alright. But if you take longer than ten minutes we will leave without you. And then Kirito will whine and whine because he’s been wanting to do this quest for ages—“

“I got it,” Eugeo sighs, raising a hand in surrender. Yeesh.

Asuna gives him a friendly smile before unfolding her wings. “See you soon, Eugeo-kun!”

“Don’t be late,” Liz warns him again, and then she flies off.

“Make sure Kirito-san’s fully awake before we drag him off!” Silica laughs. Sinon nods, and soon enough, the clearing is empty again, and Eugeo is left with his thoughts and a black-haired fairy who is now drooling on his thigh.

Eugeo grimaces a bit before he decides, yeah, it’s about time Kirito stops napping.

“Wake up, Kirito,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. 

“Mmh,” Kirito mumbles, shifting in his lap. 

Eugeo grins and continues his ministrations, covering the teen’s face in soft kisses that make him squirm. 

It’s right when Eugeo catches the corner of his mouth that Kirito finally comes to full awareness, his eyes blinking open slowly. When he meets Eugeo’s gaze his expression immediately softens, and Eugeo feels his heart seizing in his chest. Kirito never looks at anyone else like that—the blonde wants to horde every single longing and heartfelt emotion in Kirito’s face made only for him forever.

“Time to go?” Kirito asks sleepily. He looks adorably rumpled.

Eugeo nods. “Mhmm.”

Before he can even blink, Kirito surges up to kiss him fully. It’s firm and strong and totally assured, like Kirito wants nothing more, like he’s wanted this his whole life. Eugeo melts under his touch. 

When they part, Eugeo sees nothing but an ocean full of stars and the sky reflected in Kirito’s eyes. It really is the sky he prefers the most.

His hero smiles brilliantly at him. “Lead the way.”

[rogsclogs]

Some Day One Day (Brian May x Reader); part 7

I kept you all waiting long enough. Enjoy :)

taglist: @brighter-thanthe-sky @im-a-sheerheartattack @fruityfreddie @discodeacygotmorerhythm @killer-queen-xo @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen @alfinaldelarcoiriss (if you want to be added to the tag list just message me)

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 8  Part 9

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Brian stayed up all night with her, listening to her rant and wiping away all the tears her eyes released, which never seemed to end. He hated seeing her like that, but she needed an anchor and he was willing to drown for her, so he made her some more tea and gave up on all of his sleeping time.

She felt so detached from her home, and didn’t know how in the world she could have gone straight back to her parents’ place after their heated discussion, but then again she didn’t have another place in the world that she could call home so was there really anything to even discuss? 

She should have just gone back to her parents and accept the months and months of emotional and psychological harassment that were very likely to come.

But Brian didn’t fully agree with that.

“Y/N, I’m not sure if this is what you truly need right now, but please know that you can always call my house a home. There will always be a key under the mat for you and I’ll always be here to dry your tears and help you out, no matter what. It may not be the best option, but it’s an option that will always be available to you”.

The poor girl had endured so much emotionally speaking that she couldn't help but burst out into tears once more when those words left Brian’s mouth (she seemed to be doing that a lot lately, but hey that’s how life goes sometimes).

“Hey, no, no baby, did I say something wrong? Why are you crying now?” 

For some reason the concern and slight exasperation in his voice made Y/N start to giggle uncontrollably, maybe it was due to the release of all the tension she’d had to hold in during the day or maybe it was the irony of the situation she found herself in, in her college professor’s kitchen at 5 am telling him about all of her life problems like he was her childhood friend, but she let herself be happy and okay for the first time in so long, and let her giggles take control of her, no matter how much her stomach would hurt later.

Seeing her like that made a smile bloom on Brian’s face as well, and he immediately joined her and started laughing along.

The two of them realized how odd that situation might have looked to someone else, and they both tried to stifle their laughs to not wake little Emily up, but they were so incredibly happy and lighthearted for once, so they couldn’t find it in them to really care.

That was the moment Brian realized how truly in love he was with her, there was no point denying that anymore, she lit up every room she walked into and his whole world, so what if she was younger and the odds weren't exactly in their favor? He loved her, it was time for him to man up and prove it to her.

He had to collect every ounce of courage he could find in himself to lean in, but eventually he did.

He cupped the side of Y/N’s face with his right hand, maybe to show her his intentions and maybe to prove to himself she was in fact real and in sat in front of him (sometimes he felt that she was too good to be real and that she was just a product of his imagination), which quieted her giggles down and brought her big eyes onto his own.

Brian couldn't take the staring and the pressure in his chest for too long, so he decided to just go for it and press his lips on hers, not giving himself the chance to think twice about it and chicken out.

Y/N was surprised to say the least, and let out a little gasp as she felt his mouth connect to hers, but that soon turned into a tiny moan, after all she had been dreaming and wishing for that to happen for so long, it didn't seem like real life to her.

She held onto Brian’s hand which was still placed on her right cheek and closed her eyes, taking the moment in and savoring the very taste of him that she’d been fantasizing about during his lectures so many times before.

As he felt her kiss back, every fear in the back of Brian’s mind disappeared and all that was left was pure ecstasy and fulfillment. They were making out, she felt the same about him, everything in the world was right.

Y/N felt an unknown energy rise inside of her as she kept on kissing him with all that she had, and she soon climbed on Brian’s lap and straddled him, suddenly wanting to be as close to him as she physically could, but not knowing how far she was ready to push him, and that made him break the kiss for the first time.

“Y/N...” His tone was almost concerned, he too felt like he didn't want to push her out of her comfort zone and he didn't want to make her uncomfortable at any time so he wasn’t sure how to act with her sitting on his lap.

“I just want you close Bri, we don’t have to do anythi-”

She wasn't able to finish what she had to say as Brian reconnected their lips once more and shut her up. He just couldn’t get enough of her and now that he knew he could have her he never wanted to let go.

She giggled as he pecked her lips over and over after making out for what felt like forever, they were still sitting there in his tiny kitchen just enjoying each other’s presence and ignoring the rest of the world outside.

They stayed like that for so long that it eventually came time for Brian to get ready for work and wake Emily up, so Y/N had to let go of him and get off his lap, which she definitely wasn't happy about.

She followed him around the house as he got ready for the day at school, watching him shave the few hair he had on his face while she brushed her teeth and helping him pick his clothes out. Neither of them mentioned their heated make out session or what that meant for their relationship, Brian really wanted to talk about it with her but he figured the conversation could wait another day or two and she needed to take some time off and not worry about anything for a while.

He knew they would have to keep their heads low, he could not risk losing his job after how hard he’d worked to get it ever since he was in his early twenties, so that meant no kissing or holding hands in public or anything of the sort, which he knew would probably hurt Y/N’s feelings, but there was little that could be done and he figured that she would understand and that if they really wanted to make it work, they would find a way.

They had both agreed that she needed some rest after the rough day she’d had, so Brian had offered her to stay at his place all day while there was nobody there and just take some time for herself, sleep as much as she wanted, shower and just relax, which she was extremely thankful for.

She helped him fix breakfast and then they woke Emily up together, which strangely went unnoticed by the little girl who acted like that was a normal part of her routine, warming Y/N’s heart so much. She even held onto her hand as they walked down the stairs and asked to be sitting close to her at the breakfast table much to Y/N’s surprised. 

Brian took his time to observe the two girls in front of him, fondly remembering all the times he’d talked to Emily about Y/N, which were probably the reason why she felt somewhat comfortable around her already, and all the times the little girl had asked about her herself. For some reason she was very curious about Y/N: what she did during her days, what she wore to class and what she talked to her dad about, it was all fascinating to her, who thought of Y/N as some sort of Wonder Woman. Brian couldn't agree more with that, but he would probably never admit that.

Emily asked Y/N to do her hair that morning and the girl happily complied, gently combing it all and easily fixing them in the very same braid that Brian had struggled so much to learn how to do.

He was on top of the world seeing how much his little girl seem to be at ease around Y/N, it was crucial to him that if their relationship was ever to get serious Emily approved of her and she clearly did.

In fact, she got all excited telling Y/N about what she’d be doing in daycare and she even told her about a small crush she had on a boy in her class, to which Brian acted all protective and strict, even though he found it adorable.

When it was time for the two of them to leave, he asked his daughter to go wait for him in the car so he could have a few spare minutes with Y/N.

“Make yourself at home today, alright? Take all the food you want, watch tv, read some books, do whatever you want and I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’ll ask my parents to look after Emily for the night so we can have the house for ourselves, does that sound good?”

Y/N tiredly smiled at him as she couldn't believe just how fortunate she was to be around someone with a heart as big as his, someone who had managed to make her feel at home in less than a day.

“We can talk things through tonight, alright? Everything will work out, we’ll figure something out. You can stay here as long as you want and I can keep tutoring you so you can pass the next exam, you will be fine. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

“Yes Brian, thank you so much for everything you’re doing for me, I will never be able to properly pay you back but just know I am truly grateful and happy around you”.

He really wanted to tell her that he loved her, but kept his mouth shut thinking that it would probably scare her away to be so blunt so soon, so he just kissed her forehead and held her close to his chest.

“Have a great day at school Brian...I love you”

Well then, that's settled.

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “Lady Silence” Part 2

Frost’s younger sister came to live with him 6 months ago; one could say Y/N is a bit of an oddball because she doesn’t talk and she doesn’t like to be touched. The Joker allowed her to help the crew from time to time without knowing that the only reason for the woman’s presence amidst them was actually him.

You stretch a little bit and yawn, wanting to cuddle up in Shiro’s arms when you realize he’s not in bed; that makes you open one eye and after a few moments of confusion you see your husband standing by the windows.

“What time is it?” a sleepy Y/N inquires.

“Almost 6,” he smiles and you get on your elbow, signaling him to return by your side.

“It’s still early,” you slide down the pillows and he doesn’t need another invitation when you propose: “Let’s have a lazy morning.”

Shiro glares at the sunrise while running his fingers through his long hair, perfectly aware of how attractive you find his gesture. You even opened both eyes to savor the view: wearing nothing more than a pair of boxers, the head of the Ozunu clan knows that he doesn’t have to put too much effort in order to get his wife’s attention.

He snickers as soon as you yank him in your embrace and start covering his face in soft kisses; there’s nothing Shiro enjoys more besides the intimacy of a marriage he risked everything for, including succession to Yakuza leadership.

“I saw The Joker walking by,” he informs and you don’t seem surprised.

“Probably he can’t sleep and decided to explore the property.”

“Most than likely; maybe some stuff will look familiar,” your husband agrees and wants to share his thoughts on yesterday’s events but something about the tone in your voice stops him.

“I couldn’t have asked for a better partner in life,” you whisper and peck his lips. ”I really don’t know what I would do without you.”

Shiro touches your nose with his, paying attention since he knows you too well: you’re getting upset and he has an idea why.

“The honor is all mine,” he growls and hugs you tighter when the question echoes in the quiet bedroom:

“Do you know what I miss the most?” and your bottom lip quivers as you continue. “Our son sneaking in here at the crack of dawn and his little feet thumping on the floor… “

Shiro caresses the small of your back in a faint attempt to soothe you.

“Me too,” he sniffles and you start crying on his shoulder.

“I m-miss our b-baby,” the heartbroken Y/N barely manages to utter. “There’s so much silence without him…”

“I miss him too… more than anything…” the other grieving parent admits and wipes your tears. “I’ve been thinking lately…” and he hesitates for a few seconds,” that I would l like us to try for another baby. Hm?...”

“I’m…I’m scared…” you stutter because he brought it up in the past and your feelings haven’t changed. “What if something happens again?...”

“Just think about it, OK?” he kisses your temple. “There’s always a risk… yet I want us to try again when you’re ready…Alright?” 

You nod a yes, grateful the man you loved since you were teenagers can be such a comfort after all the hardships life has thrown your way.

“Shiro…” you sigh, “can we get married again?”

Your husband tucks your hair behind the ear, having absolutely no objection to the candid request.

“Just you and me…I don’t care if we have a priest, a monk or a pastor… And my brother as a witness, just like the first time. I just need to say the words again, that’s all. Do you want to?”

The answer doesn’t disappoint:

“Of course I want to; who else am I going to remarry if not my girl?”

“Can we do it at The Shrine?” the emotional Y/N suggests.

“No better place,” he sadly smiles. “We can have someone here in the next hour. Are you sure you don’t want anything big this time though? When we got married 11 years ago, I was an outcast and we didn’t have money for a proper reception; now we could organize a lavish party.”

“No,” you shake your head. “Only me and you again, please.”

Your husband squeezes you closer to him, repeating your words:

“Only me and you…”

*************

The Joker is taking a third left on a convoluted path towards the guest house, enjoying the labyrinth –like maze. He’s been inspecting the estate for almost two hours now and boredom didn’t settle in; pretty rare for The King of Gotham not to lose interest in such a trivial activity so here he is, still roaming around at 7:53am.

J suddenly sees you and Shiro emerging from an alley bordered by lighted Japanese lanterns; the breeze carries over bits and pieces of a dialogue he can’t understand. You are wearing a white summer dress and your husband opted for a light blue suit; his hair is gathered in a ponytail and yours is braided.

Not that he’s spying on purpose, but there’s something going on that makes The Joker stay behind the granite sculpture he happened to pass by. He sees Shiro breaking a small branch from a cherry blossom that he offers to his bride in exchange for a kiss and the couple resumes walking after a few seconds.

J leaves his temporary hiding spot and lingers by the statue before reprising his stroll, already having a goal in mind: go down the path you came from because it’s a new sector to investigate. He scarcely makes a few steps when he hears a stern command:

“Apologies Mister Joker, this area is reserved for family members. No exceptions,” one of the guards entrusted with securing the perimeter makes his presence known. J didn’t notice the man perfectly blending in with the landscape and he sure likes to think he has a sharp eye.

“I’m just going that way for a hike,” the stubborn guest tries to push it and as soon as his foot is up in the air for the next step, six more guards surface from the slight mist, completely blocking passage now. They are dressed in black and their faces are covered with a dark veil, just like the ones that The Clown Prince of Crime encountered at Frost’s house when he met Shiro for the first time.

J frowns, displeased at the small group’s action; they are actually part of the clan’s most skilled assassins and they take their duty very seriously. Something hard to comprehend for The Joker that believes no rules apply to him.

“I’m just taking a hike,” he sarcastically smirks.

“No trespassing!” another sentinel reiterates and touches his sword as a last warning they are ready to act if the visitor doesn’t turn around. “Family members only unless you have special permission from them to go to The Shrine! Please go back Mister Joker.”

“And what happens if I don’t, huh?” J cracks his neck, defying all common sense like he always does.

“Let him pass! Mister Joker is with me!” Frost yells and quickens the pace; he is going back to the main house after spending 5 extra minutes at The Shrine in order to make sure the monk called to officiate the short ceremony was properly escorted back at the eastern gates.

The guards obey and J rushes by them with contempt, pissed he didn’t manage to control the situation without Jonny’s intervention.

Frost waits for his boss then they start walking together.

“What’s with the restricted area, hm?” The Joker grumbles.

“It’s a private area, sir. Nobody is allowed here unless they’re family or has Shiro’s or my sister’s consent,” your brother tries to explain the privacy concept to a grouchy employer that has trouble grasping such notions.

“Oh yeah? Why?! Is there a secret treasure buried here…” and he halts his tirade as soon as he sees the Japanese style Shrine filled with burning candles and incenses.”…or something?” he finished the sentence, not sure about what he’s looking at.

“Sir…” Frost respectfully lowers his voice and leads The Joker near the sanctuary. “This is a shrine build in the honor of my nephew Haruto, my sister and Shiro’s only child. He died almost two years ago from leukemia…” Jonny bites his lip and lights up more incenses from the pile waiting to be burned. “He was three years old,” Jonny gestures towards the picture of a cute little boy decorated with Kanji alphabet symbols for his name: Haruto Ozunu. Next to the picture there’s a glass case containing a grey teddy bear: your son’s favorite toy.

The Joker stares at the multitude of flowers and bonsai trees beautifully adorning The Shrine, rather curious about the revelation.

“I saw your brother-in-law and your sister earlier,” J informs. “Were they here?” he asks although the reply is evident.

“Yes, sir. They renewed their vows, a spur of the moment thing.”

The Joker is somewhat surprised at the news simply because he doesn’t see the point of remarrying your spouse; maybe if he would have had someone’s unconditioned love and loyalty after what happened to him, he could have a better understanding of such matters. Maybe his fate would have been different too. But he didn’t, thus things are the way they are.

Frost rearranges some candles that are almost out, replacing them with new ones.

“Losing Haruto was very painful for them,” he continues. “My sister didn’t say a word for months; both didn’t really eat or sleep. I mean, even now she only says things to me and Shiro; doesn’t talk to anybody else unless she truly wants to.”

Jonny pauses while taking a deep bow in front of The Shrine, preparing to leave.

“Are you going to get in trouble for bringing me to this place?” J inquires even if he actually doesn’t give a damn about it.

“No,” Frost confidently responds. “Y/N and Shiro won’t object to my decision.”

“You think so?” The Joker smacks his lips while wishing for the opposite.

“The guards alerted them they let you trespass seconds after it happened; it’s their job. Since they weren’t sent to kick you out of here or worse, it means my sister and her husband were ok with you being at The Shrine.”

“I’m humbled by such unexpected privilege,” the ignorant answer makes your brother reprimand his boss’s conduct for once:

“You are the first guest they ever let back here, Mister J! Think about that!” Jonny furrows his eyebrows and the annoyance is so obvious it makes J hiss:

“Are you lecturing me Frost?!”

Your brother decides not to deepen the apparent surfacing conflict and instead diverts the discussion towards another topic:

“Let’s return to the house, sir. I’m sure they are waiting for us.”

*************

The Joker barely hears the conversation you’re having with Shiro in Japanese and the chat stops when his presence is detected.

“We started without you,” Shiro announces when Frost and The Joker finally join the table for breakfast. “I think it’s good to eat outside again since the weather is so nice,” he takes a bite from his plate and J has to comment:

“I hear congratulations are in order,” he grins and your husband takes your hand and kisses it, loving the smile flourishing on your lips.

“Thank you,” Shiro replies.

You play with your hair, J’s attention switching towards the delicate cherry blossom received from your husband earlier: you keep on caressing the delicate flowers twisted in your braid, already planning to save them since they are worth more than all the diamonds you possess.

“Mister Joker,” your spouse addresses the absent minded Clown Prince of Crime, “the merchandise will arrive tomorrow night. There is a slight delay due to the fact that I am adding more trucks to the convoy.”

“That’s fine…” J mumbles, averting his eyes when he realizes you caught him gazing your way; not because he’s shy or anything similar, but because he’s inexplicably puzzled about the strange feeling in his heart: it’s almost like those flowers remind The Joker of something, yet he’s not sure of what.

“Are you still having the poker party tonight?” Frost asks and you nod a yes.

“Of course,” Shiro reiterates. “Would you like to join us?” the invitation is extended to the guest.

J lifts his shoulders up, picking some food to eat from all the varieties nicely arranged in the middle of the table.

“Yeah, sure. I have nothing better to do.”

“Excellent,” your husband grins. “I must tell you traditional Japanese attire is required for poker night.”

“I don’t own a kimono.”

“You can borrow one, Mister Joker; we have a room full,” Shiro suggests.

“I suppose I can,” the proposal is accepted without too much debate; for some reason the green haired man doesn’t detest the idea.

“Yes?” your husband encourages the hesitant guard that just arrived at the gathering, not sure if he should interrupt or not.

“Shiro-san. Mistress,” he bows and hurries up to your side. He whispers something that makes you frown and there is such an evident change in your spouse’s mood The Joker actually wonders what the heck is going on.

“Bring him here,” Shiro grumbles and the guard bows again, disappearing shorty after.

“Something wrong?” Frost looks at both of you, uneasy.

You scoff and the leader of the Ozunu clan sucks on his teeth, deeply bothered about the news.

The Joker sips on his orange juice, watching two women bringing over a young man in his early twenties. He keeps on trying to escape their grip but it’s useless; they won’t let go.

The captors forcefully drag him over near the table, the woman to his left kicking his shin so hard he falls to the ground on his knees, not daring to struggle anymore.

“I heard you talked about my wife and referred to her with a certain term that I hate!” Shiro snarls, his eyes burning with disgust.

Takeshi nervously tries to explain his mistake, aware he landed in very hot waters due to his own stupidity.

“I… I swear I didn’t mean it like that, Shiro- san. Mistress…” he calls while you ignore him. “Mistress, I swear it was completely taken out of context…”

You don’t seem to care about his reasoning and your husband shouts with such intensity it makes the guilty party shrivel up.

“And what context would make it acceptable for you to disrespect my wife by calling her an outsider??!!”

The Joker is watching the scene quite fascinated first of all because he loves this kind of stuff and secondly because your husband seems to have transformed into an entirely different individual: Shiro Ozunu might be different than his father, but it’s not necessarily a good thing.

“I’m …I’m sorry… I really didn’t…” and Takeshi doesn’t get to finish his apology.

“Who gave you a second chance when you messed up badly, hm?” your husband slams his fist on the table, fed up with the useless conversation.

“Mis... Mistress did…” the young man stutters, more and more anxious.

“And who insisted we should keep you because you have nowhere else to go when you majorly fucked up a third time?” the interrogation resumes.

“Mistress…Mistress did…” the faint reply makes your husband snap:

“You mean the outsider??!!”

Shiro grabs a knife from the table and stabs the kneeled offender with such brutality his collar bone loudly cracks. Takeshi screams in pain, bending over until his forehead touches the grass.

“The cut runs deep and the blade is aimed towards your heart,” your husband describes what he just did. “It’s very close to one of the main arteries; if you take the knife out yourself, you will graze it and bleed to death. I know how to take out the blade without killing you, but I don’t want to. The other person that can do that is the outsider,” he ironically underlines the word. “It’s up to her if she wants to give you a fourth chance. I wouldn’t!”

The young man is absolutely terrified and gathers his strength in order to lift his head up, the throbbing ache making him shiver.

“Mistress…Mistress please…” he begs and you calmly drink water, neglecting to react.“I’m v- very sorry, I meant no disrespect,” he touches the injury, his fingers wrapping around the handle sticking out of the flesh. “Mistress…please…” he pleads again and you finally glare at the victim.

You snatch one of the silk napkins from the table and get up, irritated at Takeshi’s whining. The Joker sees you going around his chair and stomp louder once you are closer to the young man; he actually wonders if you’ll forgive him. There is so much resentment written on your face it totally delights The King of Gotham: he has to admit that being around Shiro and Y/N Ozunu is not boring at all.

Takeshi whimpers when you lift his chin up, immediately closing his eyes when you slap him; it stings badly but doesn’t compare to the stabbing wound. You push his fingers aside from the knife, firmly clutching to the handle for a few moments while trying to balance the compression applied to it. He groans when the blade tilts inwards and screams as the knife is taken out of his injured muscles. A few drops of blood stain your white dress, the red liquid quickly soaking the napkin you cover his lesion with.

The young man tries to cling to you because everything is starting to spin so fast he can’t process how close he is to lose consciousness. Takeshi opens his mouth because he wants to thank Y/N for having mercy on him, yet no sound comes out. The ache is so unbearable that it makes his body convulse and he collapses at your feet, hearing Shiro barking at the two women before fainting:

“Get this idiot out of my sight and patch him up!”

***********

J is trying on a sixth kimono, not being able to decide if this is the one he wants to wear at the poker party. The color and patterns are very nice: gold and blue koi fish against a light grey, velvety background. He turns and admires himself in the huge mirrors, thrilled that this particular garment makes his eyes stand out.

The Joker puckers his lips, straining to find some energy for the evening planned ahead; he’s been awake since 3am and now it’s past 7 o’clock at night. He slowly spins so he can analyze his reflection from all angles, vanity making him smirk wider.

“Maybe this one,” he yawns and crashes on the couch, shoving the decorative pillows around until he’s comfortable enough to relax. J was told the other guests will arrive in less than two hours so there’s time to take a nap. He punches the pillow under his neck to fluff it up on the sides, paying attention to the noise: Shiro just told you a joke and your laughter reaches the room where The Joker was left alone to try kimonos.

The sound fades, J’s eyelids getting heavier despite his efforts to stay alert. He impatiently bounces his legs and the movement diminishes soon along with his will to fight off the exhaustion. The Joker’s tired brain doesn’t even acknowledge the ruckus created outdoors by the crew appointed to get things ready for the poker party on the terrace.

A few minutes pass and J mutters in his daze, clenching his fists together.

In the dream he sees his hand reaching for a branch full of cherry blossoms, breaking a few flowers and playfully shaking them to make sure no petals will fly in the wind.

“For you,” The Joker discerns his voice saying as he places the delicate flowers behind Y/N’s left ear. She looks so young, just like in the pictures scattered around the Ozunu residence, only 17 back then.

The girl sweetly smiles as he keeps on caressing her hair and the 20 years old Joker can’t help it:

“You’re so pretty…” he confesses and leans over to kiss Y/N; she doesn’t reject him and his heart is beating so fast it’s deafening. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to do that…” the excuse follows his bold gesture simply because he realizes why he wasn’t pushed away: Y/N seems petrified and definitely taken by surprise.

Why are you looking at him like that?!

The Joker feels his cheeks burning, embarrassed at you reaction.

“Just… just forget it, ok?” he grumbles and takes a step back, regretting his dumb decision of kissing Shiro’s girlfriend.

“It’s fine,” you smile again, not knowing what else to say. “Where are you going?” Y/N sighs when he starts walking away. “Damian, come back please!“

J sprints towards the parking lot, his legs stiff from the humiliating experience he seeks to forget as soon as possible. He’s so distracted he bumps into someone and the impact abruptly wakes up The Joker: he gasps for air, his head pounding with the most horrible migraine.

He tries to get up from the couch but he’s so dizzy he falls back on the cushions.

“Dammit…” he moans when the confusion in his mind is not clearing up.

The knock on the door makes a bit more attentive to his surroundings and merely utters:

“Yeah?...” he pauses and you enter the room to check up on him. “Hey Silence,” J greets and strenuously exhales. “I have a terrible headache,” he rubs his temples and you approach, a bit worried since he seems completely drained. “Can you help?”

You nod a yes and swiftly move near the couch, pulling him up against the soft frame. Y/N begins to massage The Joker’s shoulders and searches for the pressure point under his skin, quickly pinching the tissue once it’s found. He senses the intense pain that comes with the procedure and then numbness takes over as The Clown Prince of Crime enjoys relief given by the skillful Y/N.

You notice J is feverish and the glossy eyes indicate that something’s not quite right: physically he might be fine, but the current state he’s in makes you wonder if he should rest instead of attending the party.

Frost’s sister has no idea that The Joker’s present situation is due to a simple fact: what he dreamed wasn’t just a strange dream, but a triggered memory about something that happened many years ago.

Part 1: diyunho(.)tumblr(.)com/post/182229828411/the-joker-x-reader-lady-silence

Part 2:  diyunho(.)tumblr(.)com/post/183762832056/the-joker-x-reader-lady-silence-part-3

Also read: Masterlist

diyunho(.)tumblr(.)com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

AO3 and Wattpad account - same blog name: DiYunho

[stankrhodes]

They Don’t Know About Us by One Direction [Songfic] - Starkquill

Ship: Starkquill

Warnings: none

Author’s note: My plan for week 3 is to have a bunch of song-fics. Fluff or angst (probably mostly fluff but who knows)

Word Count: 1,704

Fic Day: #16/30

Note: It took me a really long time to find a song that would fit this ship and when I settled on this I decided that I would ignore the gender mentions. So, I took out all the ‘girls’ . Also, I am still alive. I’ve been a long-lasting funk but I got some motivation and I’m spurring out stuff so yeah :)

Song: They Don’t Know About Us by One Direction (take me back to the good old days)

People say, we shouldn’t be together

We’re too young to know about forever

But I say they don’t know what they talk talk talkin’ about

Tony, not usually one for feeding into the media’s lies about his love life, was, for once, reading an article on his and Quill’s relationship.

As biases come, the article was clearly aimed at gearing the reader toward disapproving his relationship and Tony just wanted to burn the whole company down. Hell, he’d sue if Quill cared about it at all, but since he didn’t, there was no point in starting a conflict.

Cause this love is only getting stronger

So I don’t wanna wait any longer

I just wanna tell the world that you’re mine

“Peter!” Tony yelled when he walked into the compound. Running up to the man, Tony was relieved that he could finally see Peter after having been apart for three months. “Hey, Tony.” He laughed when Tony nuzzled his face into his neck. “I missed you, too.”

*snap* Tony stilled and Peter’s hand stopped moving into his hair. Tony lifted his head to find Peter Parker, the resident picture-taker of the compound, taking the photo and sighed. “Well? Are you going to introduce us?” Tony chuckled at the teen.

“Peter.” his hand pointed to Quill, “meet Pete.”His hand now pointed to the teenage vigilante with a second personality.

“And who’s he?” Parker said, somewhat offended. There was a pause as Tony looked at Quill lovingly.

“My boyfriend.” “Have you told anyone besides me?” Tony responded, “Rhodey and Pep.”

“Are you going to tell anyone else?” Tony shrugged. “When he’s ready,” he said and pointed at Peter.

Oh, they don’t know about the things we do

They don’t know about the I love you’s

But I bet you if they only knew

They would just be jealous of us

“Hey,” Tony whispered one night as Peter traced lines (probably stars or galaxies) across his arm. “Yeah?” “I love you.”

They had officially been dating for a year and were somehow able to keep it a secret. However, with so much getting ready to go down, the Rogues returning and more unnecessary shit, Tony felt that he needed Peter to know how he felt about him. “I love you, too Tony. What’s this about?” Worry had begun to weave its way into his voice and Tony turned over to face Peter.

“I just wanted you to know. A lot is about to happen and we’re going to have to come out about this one day and I want to savor this moment. With you.”

They don’t know about the up all nights

They don’t know I’ve waited all my life

Just to find a love that feels this right

“FRIDAY? Eta?” “The Guardians will be arriving in 2 hours boss.”

Tony groaned and decided he couldn’t focus on anything other than the worry that came with the Guardians of the Galaxy and their rude timeliness. At 3 am Tony, a man who was getting his shit together and sleeping at reasonable times for once was awake and so damn tired he felt he was going to get into the Iron Man suit and sleep.

Two hours later, Tony, somehow still awake, was sitting at the common room kitchen table. When the Guardians entered, they stopped just shy of the door to quiet themselves but saw Tony sitting there instead. Tony had put his tablet on the table in favor of stretching his body and spoke, “Fri?”

His question needed no answer when he looked straight and saw his second family. “Tony,” they greeted and he smiled.

Hugging each of them was a normal thing (also being almost squished by Drax was as well) and being met with a soft kiss from Peter was as well. “Welcome home,” he said as he leaned into Peter’s side. “Good to be back,” Gamora replied and smiled softly at the dynamic between Peter and Tony.

She would never understand them but what she did understand was that they loved each other and that was all that mattered.

Baby they don’t know about, they don’t know about us

Just one touch and I was a believer, every kiss gets a little sweeter

It’s getting better

Keeps getting better all the time

“Hey let’s go out tonight.” Tony’s proposition immediately caught Peter’s attention. Looking up from the book he was reading on Tony’s bed, Peter shrugged and replied, “Why not?” Tony smiled and walked into their bathroom to change into his clothing for the day.

Later that day, Tony ran into Steve Rogers. It wasn’t the first time they would run into each other and Tony was becoming more comfortable with the fact that The Rogues were going to be around more. However, that did not mean Tony was comfortable with the people themselves.

“Rogers,” he started and the man nodded slightly. “Tony.” Tony sighed and walked away. He didn’t have time for sentimentalities from someone that almost killed him.

That night, Peter stood in front of Tony’s door dressed in a suit with a rose in hand. Tony laughed and took the flower. “I expected nothing less.” Peter smiled and Tony kissed his cheek. Peter turned his head and captured Tony’s lips.

“That will never get old,” he said softly.

They don’t know about the things we do

They don’t know about the I love you’s

But I bet you if they only knew

They would just be jealous of us

“I don’t know what it is about Tony but he’s been different since we got back,” Steve spoke to the room of his friends- the people that had chosen his side that had led to this rift between him and Tony.

“That’s an understatement,” Clint’s snarky reply came and Steve sighed.

“Is it that Quill guy?” Sam asked despite knowing that none of this information concerned him. To him, Steve was too obsessed with trying to be friends with Tony again. Sam knew, however, that was not going to be happening. Not after everything that Steve and the team had done.

“Oh and then there’s that guy!” Clint perked up. Steve’s face had a slight downfall when Quill was first mentioned and it remained in that expression for a moment.

“He’s always around. And if it’s not him, someone from his team is always with Tony. It’s like they’re trying to keep him away from us.” Clint complained.

Sam took one look at Steve and knew those words, and Quill being brought up in the first place, were not resonating with him comfortably.

They don’t know how special you are

They don’t know what you’ve done to my heartbeat

They can say anything they want

‘Cause they don’t know about us

“Peter Quill.” Tony greeted the man obnoxiously. Peter, confused as all hell, responded, “Tony Stark.”

Tony tried to keep a straight face but he quickly molded and fell onto Peter who sat in the love seat of the common room laughing. Peter, not surprised by the unnecessary behavior, just put a bookmark in his book and put it on the table next to the seat.

Steve had walked into the common room and when he saw Tony and Peter enjoying their time together on that damn couch, he walked right back out.

They don’t know what we do best

That’s between me and you, our little secret

But I wanna tell ‘em

I wanna tell the world that you’re mine

“Should we tell them?” Tony asked. It was around 2 am and he was stressing out because a really important SI deadline was kicking his ass and he was tired. Peter had left for some outer space business but Tony had finally managed to get an outer-space communication system running and he was using that to talk to Peter.

“Why is this so important to you, Tony?” Peter didn’t sound annoyed and Tony was grateful. If Peter Quill was anything, he was patient with Tony and he valued that more than anything.

“I don’t know. No one else knows and you know how I’m a sucker for attention and-”

“Tony, listen to me. They do not need to know about us. No one needs to know about us because it’s not their business. Now, if you think about this and you decide that we should tell them, then I will have no problem with that but Tony, they’re approval shouldn’t mean anything to you anymore. You have us now.”

They don’t know about the things we do

They don’t know about the I love you’s

But I bet you if they only knew

They would just be jealous of us

Tony took a deep breath before he spoke. He was only talking to Peter but making this confession felt like he was talking to a room of reporters.

“We don’t have to tell them.” Peter smiled. “How’d you come to that conclusion?”

“I realized that I no longer need their validation. Allowing them to hold that bit of control over me takes the fun out of our relationship and that’s the last thing I want.”

The smile that covered Peter’s face wanted Tony to go buy a wedding ring right then and there.

They don’t know about the up all nights

They don’t know I’ve waited all my life

Just to find a love that feels this right

Baby they don’t know about, they don’t know about us

A small gathering of the New Avengers and the Guardians filled the room. The room was inside the courthouse that Peter and Tony were going to be married in.

“Do you, Peter Quill, take Tony Stark to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or worse, for rich or poor, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

“I do.”

Tony slid the gold ring onto Peter’s finger.

“And do you, Tony Stark, take Peter Quill to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or worse, for rich or poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

“I do.”

Peter slid the other gold ring onto Tony’s finger.

[maxattack-powell]

NSFW OTP ASKS

A more streamline list put together by @ladynevrakis from the large Alphabetical NSFW list floating around:

I was asked by @elyannagray (NSFW OTP Asks For Chris?! 😉😉💗) and @grumpycommoner (For the NSFW OTP Asks: Chris x MC please 😍) action…

And I think you all know my style by now, which means no short synopsis here lol. Hope it doesn’t disappoint… here you go you guys! :)

o    How loud are they? Which one is the louder of the two?

Knowing that there’s a good chance someone is around most of the time, they are fairly quiet. Meaning there are plenty of moans and groans… grunts and gasps, but no screaming or anything. When they know they have complete privacy… either can get a little loud, but MC probably would win. They don’t get very loud though as it is not their style in general, and they each actually enjoy making the other speechless if possible.

o    Which one is more likely to initiate?

Depends on the moment, but statistically it would probably be Chris more often than MC. While she can keep her focus on whatever is going on around her, Chris always has running thoughts of her body, her smells, the way she moves, sounds… he can’t stop it. He’s tried. So when an opportunity arises, he’s going to attempt and initiate. Luckily for him, she’s usually more than happy to oblige – it has/will come close to getting them into some trouble occasionally. But it’s always worth it in the end.

o    Oral sex? Who is more likely to give/who is more likely to receive?

Chris is more likely to give because he likes to watch her when he does. MC enjoys making him happy and does it too, but Chris usually stops her because she feels too far away from him when she does. He wants their bodies touching as much as possible and to have her neck close to his lips and her legs/hips close to his hands. She feels the same by wanting him close, but he usually tries to do it at least a little most of the time.

o    Do they prefer to take their time or do they like quickies?

Usually they are masters at taking their time… making a big deal of going slow. But if the mood strikes and they are in an unusual situation, they will take a quickie. Any public location is going to be quick, because they enjoy the excitement from the risk but neither wants to actually get caught. Both are fairly private and don’t want to share the other with anyone, especially a random stranger.

o    Are they open to taking risks or experimenting? 

Yes, as I said above they are willing to try things if both agree that it could be interesting. If either is uncomfortable it ends there without hurt feelings because neither Chris nor MC would want the other to ever feel uncomfortable when it comes to their relationship, especially that part. Trust is very important to them both. Also, the idea of someone seeing MC in that position actually makes Chris a little angry and protective.

o    Favorite position?

MC prefers missionary so she can see his eyes and wrap her limbs around him, holding him close and gaining leverage against the surface beneath her. Chris usually tends to agree, but he enjoys every variation of missionary or a position where he can see/touch her face and keep her body close to his. Body to body surface area is a thing for them both. He also loves access to her neck, so anything that lets him kiss, bite or suck on her neck is a win for him.

o    How experienced are they? Is one of them more experienced than the other?

Chris has only had one previous sexual partner before MC, his ex Nicole. They had a typical physical teenager relationship so not a lot of experience as far as wide knowledge base. He figured some important basic stuff out thought, but with MC he learned much more. Chris was her first, so while she knew a decent amount from friends, the internet, movies, books, etc. she had never physically applied any of it until he came into her life. Then they learned much more together. They listen to and watch each other, figuring out all the little things that make or break a moment with the other. So as a couple, they are fairly experienced… highly knowledgeable on each other specifically.

o    Which one likes to tease the other?

MC loves to tease Chris - to get a rise out of him. A small part of him hates it, but the rest of him enjoys the hell out of it. He has a mild jealousy streak that shows up occasionally, but it’s a normal healthy amount. Chris loves her so much that he naturally doesn’t want to share, so he can’t help when it rears its ugly head. He’s not worried about her straying or acting on her teasing. She usually doesn’t go as far as to involve someone else, but that doesn’t mean she’s unaware if someone is around and interested… like at a club. That alone can drive Chris crazy, knowing that someone is watching her like he is. So he often likes to remind whoever that might be by wrapping his long arms around her, hooking his fingers beneath the lip of her jeans, kissing/biting/licking her neck or simply holding her hand while they dance. He’s been known to actually tug her towards him, between his legs… or pick her up and take her elsewhere - either over the shoulder or bridal style… while she laughs triumphantly, making him smile when agrees that that she wins. She always wins this game.

o    Do they like to take it nice and slow or do they prefer to go fast and rough?

Usually they both take it somewhat slow… savoring the moment in every way possible. Chris is a fan of Slow Hands (Niall Horan) for a reason. He likes to memorize every inch of MC, every smell, every sound, all of it. He doesn’t forget where she’s ticklish or what moves make her moan, and he’s good at it… like mastering a new instrument.

She feels the same about him but he often doesn’t let her spend time on learning his details so she has to work especially hard to commit them to memory each time she figures something out. It pays off though, often distracting him enough to even the playing field and allowing her just as much control in the situation. He’s not controlling, but just wants her to enjoy it as much as he is – and he enjoys it when she does so he naturally defaults to running the show. They can get rough though, usually when they are in a rush or the tension is so built up neither can take it anymore, like after a long night of teasing, they haven’t touched each other in way too long, or making up after a bad fight.

o    Favorite place to have sex?

They prefer either of their beds (freshman year), and MC’s room usually during sophomore year because it is more private in the house. She loves being in his bed though because it smells like him, and the same goes for him in hers. Eventually when they just share one bed full time that is where they prefer to have sex, but when they have a place without roommates – any place is fair game. They go through a phase where they try every surface in the house, every room, whatever they can… the shower becomes a favorite early on. They usually find places outdoors to sneak to if possible. Camping becomes a reoccurring favorite activity for a reason. Eventually, they have a treehouse behind their house – it gets used often. Treehouses aren’t just for kids.

o    Do either of them have any kinks? 

Chris likes to touch MC in public when he knows it might make her blush but also turn her on. He doesn’t do it if there’s a chance they will get caught because he doesn’t want her to be embarrassed, which would do the opposite of turn her on. If he’s sure no one will see though, like reaching under a long table cloth and running his hand up her leg and under her skirt, he will attempt it. If she feels like it’s unsafe and stops him, he backs off but will give her a look that only she knows is a pout for shutting him down. He does have a thing about football fields, or game boxes… anything outside is good, anything sports related is good… those two together is even better. She loves the outside and nature, so having the windows open during a crazy storm while they make love is exciting as well. She likes to bite him on the neck or across his shoulders… he enjoys doing it back as well. To the point of leaving marks on her, almost as if he’s claiming her, but only where no one will see it with normal clothes. It’s for him to see, no one else.

o    Is there anything that the other does that they find particularly sexy or irresistible?

MC loves when Chris runs his hand through his hair. He usually does it when he’s nervous or tired. She finds it very endearing and when he’s really anxious about something she stops him and runs her own hand through it to calm him down, and it works very well. He ducks his head and almost purrs when she does it, making him forget whatever it was and suddenly want to touch her back. It also turns him on if used in the right combination with other actions. She loves when he concentrates on something, like football or playing the guitar… because he moves his mouth with the music or as he passes. He clenches his jaw often too, making his already sharp bone structure pop more, making her want to bite him on the spot where his jaw meets his neck by his ear – she knows he likes it.

Chris loves when MC plays with her necklace – she will tug on it or pull the charm up and hold it between her lips and let it drop when she’s concentrating. The reason he likes it - he loves her neck and lips, making him wish he was touching her the way it does. He also loves her long legs… so anything that allows him to see them as much as possible he’s all about. Which means he enjoys her short running shorts, when she works out at the gym, when she wraps them around him easily as he picks her up and carries her places… things like that. She finds him carrying her a huge turn on as well, his large arms easily holding her up against him where she can see his bright blue eyes directly in front of her.

o    What’s the general tone? Playful, romantic, rushed?

Generally very romantic, very caring and almost disgustingly sweet with a sprinkle of playful at all times. Chris wants to savor every moment as if it is the first time or as if it will never happen again. He cuts no corners, making sure they are both fully enjoying it. They are very goofy with each other in their daily interactions, so there’s always moments or words between them that can cause an eruption of giggles or hearty laughter, even in the heat of the moment, but it’s always romantic and thoughtful overall.

o    What happens afterward?

Depending on where it happened… it can vary, but usually it’s in their bed(s) so if Chris was on top he would stop himself from collapsing on top of her by propping up on his elbows (since he’s quite a bit bigger/heavier) but she will often pull him down onto her anyway, wrapping her limbs around him to hold him close. This makes him smile and nuzzle into her neck, where he tends to kiss her slowly for a minute or so… as his body calms down while he listens to hear heart beat normalize. If she is on top, he immediately pulls her down to him and moves her hair out of the way so he can rub her neck and back. She thinks it feels amazing, but he’s doing a lot of it to calm himself down without even realizing it. He just wants to feel her close to him. MC loves it because she wants nothing more than to be close to him the same way. If they were in any other position… they usually gravitate to spooning almost immediately - Chris wrapping his arms around her waist and under her neck to pull her close, while she backs up and pulls his hands up around her securely, making him smile into the back of her neck and shoulders. Sometimes they stay up talking softly, sometimes they fall asleep immediately.

[deanmon69]

Tumblr Prompt

@kasbiel Here you go, hun! I have to admit, I struggled with this. Making these boys Talk is like pulling out a tooth. Hope it’s to your liking. Ask box is open for more prompts, folks! Just hit me up!

Prompt: Cas finds out all the scary violent and John-like things he’s been doing and they Talk.

Pairing: Dean/Cas

Rating: T

Warnings: Mild language, fluff, slight angst

He was supposed to be

The first male love of your life

You still search for him

Everywhere

-father

(poem by rupi kaur)

Castiel stared up at the old and somewhat yellowed ceiling of Dean’s bedroom. It was crumbling in the corners and a few mysterious stains spotted the area just above the door. Castiel thought it was one the most beautiful things in the world.

           He breathed in deep, taking in the old and musk, the leather and gunpowder, the freshness of laundered sheets, and the underlying scent that was Dean. Not because he needed the oxygen, but because he wanted to savor this. All too soon after escaping the Empty, Cas had found himself locked in a cage with Lucifer, with no way to reach out the Winchesters. To Dean. All he could do was wait, search for weak spots, build up his grace. The longing he’d felt from Dean was painful, a knot in his chest that tugged at his wings. They wanted to spread, fly, carry him back to the soul he’d branded long ago. The soul his grace ached for, reached for every time they were in the same room.

           Finally, he was back. He was home. His grace sung, content and warm, with his human lying next to him. Dean’s soft breathing tickled his ear, his scruff scratching against Castiel’s shoulder as the hunter slept. An arm was slung possessively across Castiel’s chest, calloused fingers clutching at his side almost desperately. Castiel understood this. He’d been torn apart from his hunter too many times, and he wasn’t stupid enough to believe the debacle with Asmodeus was the last.

           Cas instinctively tightened his hold on Dean, causing the man to grunt in his sleep. Castiel frowned and loosened his arms only a bit, that feeling of contentment rapidly fading. What he’d learned after he finally reunited with Sam and Dean was rolling around in his head. Sam had pulled himself aside once they had gotten back to the bunker, expressing concern for Dean and his behavior as of late.

           Admittedly, Dean was not the most stable person. Well, neither of them were. It came with the life. Dean had to grow up at the age of four, after watching his mother burn on the ceiling. Sam had no childhood to speak of, and when he tried to have a normal life it was always snatched away. In a bloody, violent way. And after a few ‘end of all things’, well you couldn’t really blame Dean for being a little rough around the edges.

           But what Sam had confided in him was, Cas thought, just a little alarming.

           “Mngg,” Dean snuffled up against Castiel’s neck, eyelashes fluttering across the skin there. “Wha’er you thinkin’ about so much?”

           “Hm?” Castiel licked his lips, running his fingers through Dean’s hair. It was sticking up at odd angles from Cas’ constant need to touch it.

           “Cut the crap,” Dean huffed, finally shifting to look up at the angel. “You’re all tense and broody, and it’s messin’ with my nap. What’s up?”

           Castiel hesitated, fingers stilling. If there was one thing he learned from running with the Winchesters it was that one didn’t talk about one’s feelings. Especially with Dean. Often times when attempted, it ended in a yelling match and someone storming off. Nothing solved and everyone involved either hurt or angry.

           “…Sam and I talked,” Cas finally murmured, closing his eyes when he felt Dean stiffen almost immediately.

           “Yeah,” Dean clipped. “So.”

           “He…made me aware,” Castiel continued. “Of some of the difficulties you’ve been having.”

           “I’m fine, Cas,” Dean huffed, already trying to pull away. Castiel let him go and sat up as the hunter rolled over to show him his back. “Sam is worrying over nothin’. He thinks he’s a damn therapist or some-“

           “You pulled a gun on an innocent girl,” Castiel interrupted firmly, eyes trained on the back of Dean’s head. “That is not ‘nothing’, Dean.”

           The silence stretched out, tense and thick. Castiel waited, not sure if he’d made a mistake to bring all this up now. Sometimes he wasn’t sure where he stood with Dean. Their history was messy at best and old wounds tended to flare up from time to time.

           “I wasn’t gonna…” Dean started, voice wavering. He swallowed and tried again. “C’mon, man…you know I wouldn’t have actually hurt her. It was a bluff. I needed-“

           “I know, Dean,” Cas said gently. “But it doesn’t excuse-“

           “I know, damn it!” Dean shot up and twisted around, his green eyes dark with anger and regret. “Fuck, Cas, I…” He stopped and scrubbed a rough hand over his face. “You were gone. Again.”

           Castiel winced and looked down at the sheets.

           “And I was tryin’ not to worry about it, but I did, okay? I hadn’t heard from you…I thought…” Dean shook his head and fisted his hand into the blankets bunched around waist. “And then I find out mom could be alive, and this girl could help us get her back and I just…” He took a breath. “We needed her, Cas. If there was even a slight chance of getting mom back…I had to take it. Damn the consequences.”

           Dean snarled and ripped the sheets off his body. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and made to stand. Cas was quick, reaching out and wrapping a firm hand around Dean’s wrist. The hunter tugged, but Castiel shook his head and slid up behind him. Cas looped his arms around Dean’s waist and rested his chin on Dean’s shoulder.

           Dean turned his head, refusing to look at the angel. Afraid of what he might see. Disgust. Anger. Rejection. Neither of which Dean could take from Cas right now. Or ever.

           “Your father did you a disservice, Dean Winchester,” Castiel said solemnly, not at all surprised when Dean jerked in his arms and turned an angry stare on him.

           “What the fuck, man-“

           “Let me finish,” Castiel sighed, placing a soft finger over Dean’s lips. The man glowered, but fell silent.

           “I understand your need to stay loyal to your father,” Cas murmured. “I do believe he did his best in an impossible situation. I don’t mean to insult his memory, but just because he was your father doesn’t mean what he taught you was right.”

           “He taught me how to survive,” Dean bit off each word with barely controlled fury.

           “He taught you how to be his soldier,” Castiel said, slowly, carefully. He watched the emotions flicker in and out of green eyes, saw the muscles tightening, jaw clenching. Cas didn’t have to be an angel to feel the resentment, the bitterness, coming off the other man. He could see Dean shutting down, the walls coming up, and Cas thought maybe this was a huge mistake. What right did he have to bring this up, to lecture him?

           Castiel tore his gaze away to settle on the desk pressed up against the wall. He pointedly ignored the picture of Dean’s mother, opening his mouth to apologize and beg forgiveness.

           “…What else was he supposed to do?” Dean’s voice broke through Castiel’s mental berating, rough and low. The angel snapped his head up to find Dean’s eyes on him. They were glossy, which Castiel was sure he supposed to ignore, with a desperate sheen.

           “Be your dad,” Castiel sighed, daring to reach out and grasp Dean’s hand. “Not a drill sergeant.”

         Dean’s face was always an open canvas for the man’s emotions and thoughts, and Cas watched it closely now. He could almost see the internal battle, one he recognized in himself so well. The need to be a good son. To perform and obey without hesitation. And the desperate blind eye to how wrong it all felt, because the ends always justified the means.

           “…I felt sick, pulling that gun on her,” Dean swallowed thickly. “Getting her into this mess. I…” He closed his eyes and shook his head, voice dropping to a near whisper. “I don’t want to be John Winchester, Cas, but…I’m so afraid that I’ll…”

           Dean never finished, because Castiel didn’t let him. He moved forward, placing a firm kiss on slightly parted lips. Dean sucked in a surprise breath, this thing between them so new and fresh still. Even Cas sometimes felt it all a dream and that he’d wake up from it. Cold, alone, unwanted. But Dean pressed back, fingers clawing through Castiel’s perpetually mussed hair.

           When they eventually pulled apart, Dean was breathless and Castiel was hungry for more. But he refrained and smiled softly, a hand sliding over Dean’s jaw to his chest, where a strong heart beat just below the surface. And just below that was the brightest, most beautiful Castiel had ever seen. The soul he touched years ago, in the deepest pits of hell, and in so doing had been lost ever since.

           “I have held your soul, Dean,” Cas spoke low, voice of gravel and whiskey. “You have nothing to fear.”

           Dean exhaled sharply and fell back easily when his angel pushed him down. Castiel lost himself in the Righteous Man once again, and Dean followed him gladly.