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hwallazia · 10 months ago

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BITE IT, LICK IT, SPIT IT – 최산

synopsis . in which san discovers a new fetish while you ride him.

pairing . choi san & fem! reader

genre . smut (mdni!), established relationship, non idol!au, married!au.

taglist . @bro-atz @purplenimsicle @vampzity @iykyunho @yyaurii | apply to join my taglist ♡

word count . 0,7k

DISCLAIMER! dom! san, sub! reader, sort of lactation (milk involved but not specifically sucking it from the source), nipple play, cow girl position, bulge kink, mocking, dirty talk, praise, pet names (baby, princess), too much moaning and whining and whimpering, dacryphilia, basically san fucking the daylights out of reader (even though reader’s on top of him)

NIC’S NOTES yess, the title is based on billie’s lyric on “guess” how’d you know? <3 ;; also, i hate not having the time to write full-length stories so badly TT gotta survive with these little drabbles. so well, enjoy the meal babes !!

“put your back into it, yeah?”

his growl tingled your ear, hands reaching for his wide shoulders for support. you bounced up and down his length relentlessly, with no hesitation, no mercy. his hands found home in your hips which worked perfectly hard, fingers varying between lingering, fond touches and harsh grips on your flesh. your walls enveloped his cock in the most welcoming way, pulsating around him, giving him a taste of heaven.

“s-shut up,” your breathless whisper brushed his earlobe. “it’s hard when your husband has a fucking huge dick—“ you could almost continue your words. a strangled, loud moan intruding into your whiny complaint as he flattened his palm against your ass flesh, the sound of the harsh spank bouncing through the walls.

“just shut up and take it, baby.” he cooed at you mockingly, his recent action belying his honey-dripping voice, his lips finding their way up to your neck. cute love bites were spread all over the skin. “can’t be too hard now can it?”

your eyelashes swung the tears away by blinking once or twice, exhilarating pants rolled off your lips as beads of sweat were attached to your temple. you dropped your head back from the overwhelming feeling. eventually —when he grew far too impatient— he matched your pace, thrusting upwards and, therefore, reaching divine places.

“can’t do anything without my help.” his right found your bouncing breast and trapped it with his palm, his fingers immediately digging into the soft, almost pillowy flesh. “poor little princess.” he teased your nipple a little, sending to another wave of satisfaction as you melted into his touch. soon, a strange white liquid began to ooze out of the slit, resulting in san’s jaw dropping all the way down the floor, eyes wide open and dilated as he stared intently at the white essence, longing to get a taste of it oh-so-badly. the combination of his wife’s leaking tits bouncing right in front of him as his cock ramming into her insides formed a perfectly defined bulge was a sight for sore eyes. and he had the absolute pride to call it his, and only his to admire, to touch, to pleasure.

but you still were working hard on his dick, his hips still going up and down and providing him and you the most satisfying session. it wasn’t until you heard your husband speak that you realized what he was so immersed in. “fuck you’re leaking.”

“what do you mean—“ you questioned immediately and when you stared down at your sweaty body, your orbs twitched at the sight of your abdomen covered with drops of warm milk and san seemly falling in love with it. “oh my.”

you couldn’t understand why it happened right there and then, a swell of bashfulness drowning your senses and immediately stopping your movements to search for a towel or something to clean yourself up. but san paused your actions.

“what are you doing?”

“i’m sorry i’m just—looking for..” your sentence came out as fast as lightning and in parts, since you cut your words to reach for the nearest piece of fabric.

“i literally got you all covered with my cum yesterday and now you’re shy because of some milk drops?” he stated, leaving you frozen in your place. a strong blush inking your cheekbones cutely. he lifted your hips up a bit to immediately restart the game you left pending, his hard cock finding your tight, inviting hole. once again. where it belongs.

your immediate reaction was to scream, holding onto his abs to keep yourself from falling. the fast, restless pace your husband adopted pulled breathless gasps out of you, the loop of san’s name falling off your swollen lips like a mantra. his right hand abandoned your stuttering hip to meet your milk-covered nipple again, stimulating it by rubbing and pinching it. more essence and mewls poured out of you, walls compressing and pulsating frenetically around his cock as they swallowed the entire length almost sinfully. you were crying on his dick in less than a minute.

he chuckled, admiring the view. “what a shameless wife i have.”

| masterlist

#© hwallazia #ateez #ateez smut #choi san #san ateez #san smut #choi san smut #san x reader #san scenarios #san fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic

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hanniebaeee · 6 months ago

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Something Like Love

Han Jisung x fem!reader

Warnings: kissing, suggestive MDNI

Genre: friends/friends with benefits to lovers, fluff

Summary: You've been in love with Minho for so long, but he's already in a relationship - a really toxic one. And your best friend Jisung, who is also like your best friend with benefits, is your only source of comfort. And it looks like there's more cooking here than just benefits.

Your favorite fuzzy blanket did absolutely nothing to cushion the blow of watching Hana shove her tongue down Minho's throat in her Instagram story. You’ve watched it three times now (you didn’t even know why but you liked torturing yourself).

Why does he stay with her? She was bossy and such a narcissist! Jisung noticed the pout on your face and sighed, plopping down beside you.

“Put that away,” He said softly, wrestling the phone off your hand and tossing it aside.

You looked at him and saw him giving you that look. The one that made you wonder why you even want Minho in the first place.

You huffed, throwing your head back dramatically.

“She was literally eating Minho’s face like it was her last meal. And he looked so miserable, Ji. Miserable!”

Jisung raised an eyebrow as he popped open the wine bottle.

“Maybe he likes being miserable. Some people are into that. Like you and this whole ‘pining after your taken best friend’ thing.” Jisung teased, and you glared at him.

But he just grinned, handing you a glass of wine.

“Don’t.” you bit out.

“Don’t what? Tell you the truth? That you’re wasting your time on Minho when you could be -”

“Jisung.”

“Fine, fine.” He threw his hands up in mock surrender, but there was that glint in his eye. That Jisung glint. The one that promised things you didn’t want to think about right now.

Because Jisung? Jisung was safe. He was your comfort zone. The guy who knows exactly when to show up, exactly what to say (or not say), and exactly how to make you forget about Minho.

Like right now.

He set his wine down, leaned back, and patted his lap. “Come here.”

You hesitated, because you know where this is going. It wasn't like this was your first rodeo. But tonight, with Minho’s stupidly gorgeous, miserable face burned into your brain, you didn’t have the energy to resist.

You climbed into Jisung’s lap, and he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

“Let it go, babe” Jisung said softly. “You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. But you can make out with your incredibly sexy boy here to forget about him.”��

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously good in bed,” he shot back, leaning in closer.

“Why am I even friends with you?”

“Because I’m the only one who puts up with your Minho obsession and gives you orgasms on the regular.”

You slapped his arm, but he caught your hand, tugging you closer with a smug grin.

“Come on,” he murmured, voice dipping. “Let me take care of you.”

And that’s how it always is with Jisung. No questions. No strings. Just heat and comfort and the kind of laughter that made your tummy ache.

—-

Later, when you were lying in bed, thoroughly spent, he ran his fingers through your hair.

“You know, I’d treat you way better than Minho ever could.” Jisung teased.

“Please. You’d annoy the crap out of me within a week.” you snorted.

“True,” he admitted with a grin, kissing the top of your head. “But at least I wouldn’t make you cry.”

And damn it, if that didn’t make your stupid heart skip a beat.

You weren’t entirely sure why you agreed to this. Maybe it was the way Minho had looked at you, all big, sad eyes and that faint pout you couldn’t resist.

Jisung smirked like the devil himself as he whispered, “We’re gonna regret this so hard, aren’t we?”

Of course you did.

The Christmas market was magical, with the twinkling lights, the scent of cinnamon and mulled wine, and obviously, the company of your friends - but Hana managed to suck the joy out of it faster than the Grinch with a vacuum cleaner.

The mulled wine was too hot. The fudge was too sweet. The carols were too loud.

You gritted your teeth, gripping Jisung's arm so tight. Why the hell were you all letting her lead the way?!

Hana stopped in front of a stall selling silk scarves and picked up a bright pink one.

“Oh this would look good on me,” She announced, and Minho winced before gently saying, “It’s not really your color,”

“Stop thinking about strangling her with that scarf, love.” Jisung whispered in your ear.

You snorted, clapping a hand over your mouth as Hana shot you a glare. “Something funny?”

“Nope,” Jisung said smoothly, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Just enjoying the festive spirit.”

“Can you not be so clingy?” Hana snapped at Jisung after she saw him move a strand of hair off your face. “It’s so… obvious.”

“Hana please-” Minho tried. He did.

“Obvious?” you repeated, voice colder than the December air.

Hana raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a condescending smirk.

“I mean, really. Do you need him to hold your hand all the time?”

It took everything in you not to lunge at her, and only Jisung’s firm grip on your wrist stopped you from doing something you’d regret.

“Relax,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing. “She’s not worth it.”

“I need to use the bathroom,” you hissed, yanking Jisung on your way, brushing past Minho.

“Why does he need to go with you?” Hana called after you, but you didn’t even glance back.

You stormed through the market, weaving past stalls until you found a quiet corner near a stand selling candied nuts. The scent was almost enough to calm you down. Almost.

“I swear to god, Sungie, I’m gonna -”

Before you could finish, Jisung spun you around and cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks.

“Breathe,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “She’s not worth the jail time.”

“Easy for you to say,” you muttered, but your anger was already starting to melt under his touch.

“I just - ugh, she’s so -”

“I know baby, I know,” Jisung said with a little chuckle.

You huffed out a laugh despite yourself.

“You’ve gotta let it go, babe. And honestly…” He grinned, his lips brushing yours in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re way cuter when you’re happy.”

“You’re so smooth,” you murmured, but your hands were already fisting in his jacket, pulling him closer.

“And yet, here we are,” he teased, before finally kissing you.

It definitely wasn’t the first time, of course, but it always felt new with Jisung.

When you finally pulled back, your anger had dissolved into something softer, something sweeter.

“You good now?” he asked, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

“Better,” you admitted, resting your head against his chest.

“Good.” He kissed the top of your head, his arms wrapping around you like he could shield you from the world. “Now, let’s get back out there before Hana convinces Minho to buy her that ugly scarf.”

“Do we have to?” You groaned.

“Hey, you dragged me here,” he pointed out with a grin.

“You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“I am,” he said, tilting your chin up to kiss you again. “Always.”

The Christmas market outing hadn’t been great, but dinner was starting to look even worse. You all sat at a cozy little restaurant, candlelight flickering over the table while festive decorations twinkled. It should’ve been perfect.

But then there was Hana.

Minho had been eyeing the beef stew on the menu with excitement.

“I want to try this,” he said, but Hana barely looked up from her phone.

“That’s too heavy. Order the grilled salmon instead. It’s better for you.” she said, her bossy tone dimming the mood instantly.

Minho’s expression faltered as he said, “I kind of wanted the -”

“Salmon,” Hana interrupted, snapping her menu shut with finality. “Trust me. It's better.”

You gripped your menu so hard you were surprised it didn’t rip in two. You wanted to stab her with the fork. No wait, you wanted to slap some sense into Minho.

But before you could actually do anything, you felt Jisung's hand on your thigh, his long fingers squeezing gently.

“Salmon it is,” Minho muttered, deflating like a popped balloon.

When the waiter came to your table, you watched Minho order two of those damn salmon.

“I’ll have the beef stew, please.” you heard yourself say.

Jisung immediately chimed in, “And I’ll take the gnocchi.”

You snapped your head toward him, because you've been wanting that gnocchi. He winked at you and said, “It’s called teamwork, babe.”

Your heart did a weird flip. Damn him and his perfectly calculated sweetness. Your eyes moved towards Minho, who was now clicking some pictures of Hana, and then to Jisung's hand on your thigh.

You placed a hand on top of his and squeezed tight.

—--

The food arrived a short while later, and Hana’s sharp eyes immediately darted to the beef stew in front of you.

Without a word, you pushed your plate toward Minho.

“Here. Trade with me.” you said.

Minho blinked, startled.

“What? No, I can’t -”

“Minho,” you said softly, “it's ok, I want you to have it.”

He hesitated, glancing between you and Hana, whose mouth had tightened into a thin line.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his cheeks pink.

“Positive.” You smiled, even as your heart twisted.

Minho hesitated for another moment before switching plates with you.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, his voice full of something you couldn’t quite place.

Before you could start on the salmon, Jisung slid his gnocchi in front of you and took the salmon for himself.

“Sungie, you didn't have to-” You stared at him, half smitten and half exasperated.

“It's for the greater good, you can thank me later,” he said cheerfully, digging in.

Hana’s glare could’ve frozen molten lava, though.

“Do you two always make everything about yourselves?”

Jisung leaned back in his chair, giving her a shit-eating grin.

“Mostly yeah.” he said, and you didn’t miss the way Hana’s eyes narrowed.

As you all fell silent, focusing on your food, you couldn't help but feel a weird pull in your heart. And it had nothing to do with Minho. And everything to do with this messy haired boy sitting beside you.

The cold air bit at your face as you and Jisung stepped out of the restaurant, the distant glow of holiday lights softening the edges of the night.

Now, you were walking side by side through the bustling city streets, holding hands. Snowflakes fluttered down, catching in his messy hair, and you glanced at him from the corner of your eye.

You stopped walking, your breath clouding in the cold air. “Why are you so good to me, Sungie?”

He stopped too, surprised at the abrupt halt and the unexpected question.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, making him look absolutely adorable.

“Because I’m a mess,” you said, half-laughing, half-starting to cry. “Because I keep dragging you into this whole thing with Minho and I feel like I'm so damn selfish…you don't deserve this, Sungie-”

“I'm doing this for me, not for you or anyone else. Can you try to accept that? I like being with you, ok?” he interrupted, his tone light but his eyes giving him away.

Your stomach dropped.

“Relax,” he added quickly, the corner of his mouth quirking up into that familiar smirk. “I’m just saying… I care about you. That’s it. No strings, no expectations. We agreed on that.”

It was so Jisung - offering everything without asking for a damn thing in return. And it made you want to cry and kiss him all at once.

So, you did the latter.

You stepped closer, gripping at his jacket tightly to pull him down to meet your lips. His breath hitched as you kissed him, soft at first, then deeper as he kissed you back.

His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as the world around you faded into nothing but the warmth between you two.

When you finally pulled back, your forehead resting against his, he let out a breathless laugh.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“For being too good for your own good.” You smiled, your hands cupping his cheeks.

“Oh? Are you planning to ‘thank’ me properly?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, his grin turning wicked.

You bit your lip, your cheeks flushing as you whispered, “Take me home then.”

---

The second you stepped into his apartment, your back hit the door as Jisung kissed you like a man possessed. His hands were busy pulling your jacket off you, followed by your sweater and everything else.

You sighed as you felt his lips and hands everywhere - as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

“Been waiting for this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough. “You have no idea.”

“Then show me,” you shot back, tugging him toward the bedroom.

He chuckled, both of you stumbling into his bedroom, and onto his bed. Clothes were shed, and he was settled in between your legs as he hovered over you.

As your eyes met, you saw something you didn't before - the softness of his gaze, a longing. And it made your heart flutter. Neither of you acknowledge it, and the rest of the night was a blur of soft whispers and sweet love making.

Jisung wasn’t just good - he was great, knowing exactly what you liked. And he did give, over and over again, until you were left breathless and completely exhausted.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“For what?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“For being you.”

Christmas Eve at Jisung’s place was always so chaotic. You both celebrate together when you couldn't travel back home for the holidays.

Currently his living room was a mess with half-wrapped presents scattered across the floor, the scent of gingerbread in the air, and Jisung humming Christmas songs off-key.

This year, though, Christmas came with an unexpected guest.

Minho stood awkwardly in the doorway, a small bag in his hand and a defeated smile on his face. He looked exhausted.

Hana was officially out of the picture. The breakup had been messy and so damn difficult, but Minho had finally done it.

Jisung wasted no time pulling him into a tight hug. And you did too, because he needed all the hugs and love you could give because the poor man has been through a lot.

Minho slowly relaxed, even cracked a few jokes.

But it wasn’t until later, when the three of you were cleaning up in the kitchen, that he finally let the mask slip.

“You were right about her,” Minho said quietly, leaning against the counter as he dried a glass.

You glanced up from where you were wiping down the counter, surprised by the softness in his tone.

“Minho -” you began, but your eyes fell on Jisung, who quickly left the kitchen, leaving you alone with Minho. You didn't know why, but it absolutely shattered your heart to see him slip away like that.

“No, let me finish.” He set the glass down and turned to you. “I shouldn’t have dragged it out. I thought… I don’t know what I thought. Maybe I was scared to let go... I liked her so much, I kept thinking she would change…but deep down, I knew.”

You stayed silent, giving him space to continue.

“And I knew about you,” he admitted, his voice even softer now. “That you… liked me. I just didn’t know how to deal with it. I never thought of you like that and I'm so sorry, Y/N. I should've said something.”

You exhaled slowly, leaning back against the counter.

“Love is weird, Minho,” You said quietly. “It's messy and complicated, and you don't have to feel bad about anything. Because you're ok, I'm ok… we're good.”

Minho’s gaze softened, and he stepped closer, his hand brushing yours on the counter.

“You and Jisung? I think it's great. He is such a nice guy, and it's so obvious that he loves you so much.” Minho said, giving you a grin.

You smiled gently, your cheeks heating up.

“I think so too,” You whispered. “I’m glad you’re here, Lino…I’ll finish this up, you can go to bed. Get some rest, yeah?”

Minho nodded, pulling you into a quick hug before leaving the kitchen.

Your heart raced as you thought about what Minho said. You've been trying to decide how to bring it up with Jisung for a while now. But you were so afraid, because you know you wouldn't survive the heartbreak if you ever lost Jisung.

He was everything to you. He made you feel wonderful - like the most special girl in the world. And it felt great.

So you walked into the living room with wobbly legs, where Jisung was sitting by the Christmas tree, fiddling with a Rubik’s cube. The fairy lights reflected off his skin, making him look impossibly soft and adorable.

When he saw you, his lips curved into that familiar, heart-melting smile.

“Hey,” he said, setting the cube down. “Everything ok?”

“Sort of.” You grinned, crossing the room to him. Without a word, you slipped into his lap, your arms draping around his neck.

Jisung’s eyes widened slightly, his hands instinctively settling on your hips.

“Uh… not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing?” he asked, his eyes darting towards the guest room where Minho was.

You leaned in, your lips brushing his in a soft kiss.

Your eyes meet as you said, “I love you, Sungie.”

His mouth fell open, and for a second, he just stared at you, completely shocked.

“You… what?”

“I love you,” you repeated, your fingers tangling in his hair. “I have for a while now. I just didn’t realize it until - well, until recently.”

The disbelief melted from his face, replaced by a slow, utterly pleased smile.

“Say it again,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing.

You laughed, pressing your lips to his forehead, before saying, “I love you.”

“Good,” he murmured, pulling you closer. “Because I’ve been waiting to hear that for a really long time.”

And then he kissed you - soft at first, but quickly deepening as his hands slid up your back. You put your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, humming softly as his tongue caressed yours.

“I love you, baby,” He whispered against your lips. “God, I love you!”

You giggle, pressing kisses to his cheeks.

“So,” he said, “How exactly do you want to ‘celebrate’?”

You grinned, pulling him down into another kiss. “I have a few ideas.”

This was your Christmas. And it was perfect.

Tags:

@moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix

#stray kids #skz #han jisung x reader #han jisung x you #han jisung fluff #han x you #han x y/n #han x reader #han fluff #skz fluff #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader

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onehelluvafan · 6 months ago

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Is Octavia afraid of Stella?

This brief scene of them together in Mastermind confirmed for many of us something we’d long suspected—that Stella is not close with nor very maternal towards Octavia. But after watching this a few times, I think it might go even deeper than that. I think there are subtle hints that Octavia might actually be afraid of her.

There is evidence as early as Loo Loo Land that even when Stella was more involved, she may not have been a source of comfort for Octavia.

When baby Octavia is crying for them at the beginning of the episode, Stella says, "You get up," before Stolas sighs and goes to comfort their daughter.

There’s been some debate in the fandom that maybe this exchange was more about “taking turns” than anything else. But the sigh that Stolas gives is clearly a reaction to her response and he is already sitting up before she has even finished her sentence.

I think the implication is that he was going to get up either way and is annoyed that she has no interest in comforting Octavia, whether it be alone or together. The intensity of the sigh may also indicate that this was a regular occurrence at the time.

In the same episode, there is a photo and drawing of just Stolas and Octavia. Then later, in The Circus, we see a another photo of just the two of them.

The only pictures we see that include both Stella and Octavia are family photos with the three of them together. Over the span of 17 years, these are the only two photos that seem to exist and she is not physically touching nor looking at Octavia in either of them.

In Mastermind, Octavia is clearly very upset, but there's more being shown than just her hesitation to embrace Stella.

When she first runs from the television, Stella swoops in front of her so forcefully that there is a *whoosh* sound effect. Octavia briefly puts her hands up as she comes to a stop, so that they don’t collide.

Then, arms back down at her sides, she stands there for a moment with a look of confusion and concern on her face. At first I assumed that this was her reaction to being blocked from the doorway, but then I realized that they are in Stolas’ palace, where she wouldn’t expect her mother to be in the first place.

But the thing that startled me when I first noticed, happens when Stella reaches out to engulf her in a hug. Octavia's reactive instinct is to raise her hands, palms facing outward, and back away.

Once in Stella's embrace, she then stands there limply until she begins to cry. Only after that does she move to hug Stella back, but even then, there is another moment of hesitation when her arms are halfway up before she finally embraces her back.

It makes sense for her to be startled and confused at first, but seeing her recoil when Stella raises her arms, paints a concerning picture.

To be clear, I don't think it's meant to imply that Stella has actually hit Octavia before. Honestly, if she had, I think we can all agree that Stolas would have absolutely kicked Stella's ass straight out into the stratosphere.

We do know, however, that she has seen Stella be physically violent towards Stolas. While it’s possible that she’s never witnessed them fight previous to his cheating, she was at least exposed to it enough afterwards to be completely unfazed when her mother hurls an imp at him in Loo Loo Land.

So, I suspect that, on some level, she does not feel entirely safe around Stella.

Either way, I think we’re supposed to assume from their exchange that Octavia has likely never been comforted, or possibly even held, by Stella before.

Because the fact remains that, even after finding herself merely in an embrace, she still hesitated to accept comfort from her own mother.

#helluva boss #onehelluvafan #helluva boss analysis #helluva theory #stella #octavia #stolas #mastermind #stella goetia #octavia goetia

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heritageposts · 1 year ago

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[...] During the early stages of the war, the army gave sweeping approval for officers to adopt Lavender’s kill lists, with no requirement to thoroughly check why the machine made those choices or to examine the raw intelligence data on which they were based. One source stated that human personnel often served only as a “rubber stamp” for the machine’s decisions, adding that, normally, they would personally devote only about “20 seconds” to each target before authorizing a bombing — just to make sure the Lavender-marked target is male. This was despite knowing that the system makes what are regarded as “errors” in approximately 10 percent of cases, and is known to occasionally mark individuals who have merely a loose connection to militant groups, or no connection at all. Moreover, the Israeli army systematically attacked the targeted individuals while they were in their homes — usually at night while their whole families were present — rather than during the course of military activity. According to the sources, this was because, from what they regarded as an intelligence standpoint, it was easier to locate the individuals in their private houses. Additional automated systems, including one called “Where’s Daddy?” also revealed here for the first time, were used specifically to track the targeted individuals and carry out bombings when they had entered their family’s residences.

In case you didn't catch that: the IOF made an automated system that intentionally marks entire families as targets for bombings, and then they called it "Where's Daddy."

Like what is there even to say anymore? It's so depraved you almost think you have to be misreading it...

“We were not interested in killing [Hamas] operatives only when they were in a military building or engaged in a military activity,” A., an intelligence officer, told +972 and Local Call. “On the contrary, the IDF bombed them in homes without hesitation, as a first option. It’s much easier to bomb a family’s home. The system is built to look for them in these situations.” The Lavender machine joins another AI system, “The Gospel,” about which information was revealed in a previous investigation by +972 and Local Call in November 2023, as well as in the Israeli military’s own publications. A fundamental difference between the two systems is in the definition of the target: whereas The Gospel marks buildings and structures that the army claims militants operate from, Lavender marks people — and puts them on a kill list. In addition, according to the sources, when it came to targeting alleged junior militants marked by Lavender, the army preferred to only use unguided missiles, commonly known as “dumb” bombs (in contrast to “smart” precision bombs), which can destroy entire buildings on top of their occupants and cause significant casualties. “You don’t want to waste expensive bombs on unimportant people — it’s very expensive for the country and there’s a shortage [of those bombs],” said C., one of the intelligence officers. Another source said that they had personally authorized the bombing of “hundreds” of private homes of alleged junior operatives marked by Lavender, with many of these attacks killing civilians and entire families as “collateral damage.” In an unprecedented move, according to two of the sources, the army also decided during the first weeks of the war that, for every junior Hamas operative that Lavender marked, it was permissible to kill up to 15 or 20 civilians; in the past, the military did not authorize any “collateral damage” during assassinations of low-ranking militants. The sources added that, in the event that the target was a senior Hamas official with the rank of battalion or brigade commander, the army on several occasions authorized the killing of more than 100 civilians in the assassination of a single commander.

. . . continues on +972 Magazine (3 Apr 2024)

#free palestine #palestine #gaza #israel #ai warfare #this is only an excerpt i hope you'll at least skim through the rest of the piece #there's an entire section on the 'where's daddy' system #(seriously just typing the name out feels revolting)

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astrow0rldx · 8 months ago

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Mystery pick a card (Some 18+)

Since I did a tarot reading poll for my next tarot reading. lets get the rest of the stuff out of my drafts and reach whoever whenever divine pleases. all different type of questions. some 18+, some not. choose what pile you feel intuitively drawn too.

if you fount it on 10/20-21 24 feel free to vote on the poll for the next reading: https://www.tumblr.com/astrow0rldx/764872633973145600/a-tarot-reading-poll-%E0%AD%A8-%E0%AD%A7?source=share

One

18+ who wants to fuck you?

people probably know them. they are very confident, bold, brave. self assured. they are very wishful, they have a lot of ideas. they could be hopeful, and faithful for big dreams. they could be a person who's naturally inspired, or just carries themself that way. looking for purpose. not really immature energy though, like they seem actually goal-oriented and grounded and serene. this person could make money and actually be well known. they might have a busy life or a lot of eyes on them, like they wake up with a purpose, ideas & confidence in their world,shining. leo, sun, solar plexus energy. but also goal-oriented, focused, practical, money getter. receives nice things. the way they may flirt may be cold-hearted, clever, non chalant. if charming then not too vulnerable. could even be a little shy, have anxiety. or maybe traps in their own head when talking, arguing, etc. so maybe quiet. i don't see them as this optimistic person all the time, they could be very down. maybe a lot of loss hopes. maybe focusing on the bad. could be a person to be like awnn im so sad, so they get inspired to find purpose. they find purpose in themself, and their character and life. you could know them for getting through things. like this person could be strong, a wounded healer. signs: leo, cancer, thick hair, ginger hair, nature, fairy/mermaid, coquette, nighttime, rich, spiritual, moon, been in jail, popular, famous, pretty/handsome. good sleep schedule. mourning and sad but strong and hopeful. get through it energy.

Two

18+ their sexual fantasy with you?

makeup sex, remove tension, confusion and conflict with sex. even tease you a bit. if you guys were both going through a lot because of the connection, or your personal lives, they want to move in and just protect you. stand strong and live a happy ever after and forget about the bullshit. they definitely have fantasies about you fucking while living together and different places around the house, marriage and children may be involved. this type of sex they want to give you they want it to be deep, or performative something to make their mark, own you and make you realize about them or you two. they fantasize about moments when they have to hesitate and they don't know, like should i make a move or should i not. should we go right now, or should we not. and its just so much adrenaline and passion between you guys. they fantasize about you being their ideal woman. you even dressing up in dresses for them, putting yourself together. and then they get to see you take it off, take it off for you and take control. they fantasize about this being connective sex though, so not them only doing the work by the way, don't be afraid to add force, strength or bratty. they want to get.. THERE. rough girlfriend sex. if not girlfriend, bestfriend with benefits, fuck buddy type of thing.

Three

hyping you up and calling you out?

numerology number 222 - You thrive in partnerships, value emotional connection, and have a strong intuition. traits like : Harmony, cooperation, empathy, and diplomacy. You may struggle to assert yourself, compromise too much, or fear conflict. traits like : Indecisiveness, over-dependence, and passivity.

Signs: Strong Libra, Leo, Scorpio, Fire Signs. Favorite - Nicki Minaj

Social butterfly, Creative/Inner child energy. ADHD? maybe Balanced, makes clear decisions. Popular girl energy tbh, if your not, express yourself! popularity doesn't matter anyways your bright regardless this is about you, not others. Heavy re-invent yourself type of person, no matter if its what you been through, your look/aesthetic-ness. Who you are, what you do, you are transformative.

You are a warrior, Your strong. You been through a lot but it made you stronger & only balanced you out. Courageous! It's like you have the power to conquer anything because you rise from it, with grace & confidence. No one should be able to take control of your way when you decide to take control. Game of Thrones energy, like you could look at yourself as some type of character, angel or you know what I mean, it adds to your ego & personality about the stuff you went through. Like this is my goddess, I have faced hardship and became a strong, balanced, warrior with angel wings because of that. You are balanced, wise, & fair. You can make clear, rational decisions. Resilience - the capacity to withstand or to recover quickly from difficulties. You can re-invent your self, and shine in your character. You are radiant, your full of life, and you bring light to everyone around you. Your positivity & energy is magnetic. Success, joy, and happiness is the aura and energy around you, embrace it and feel it.

Your like this clear, smart, rational person who shines bright and has this positive inner child energy about them. You have a lot of energy, and adaptability. Always on the go, always on the move, facing things, experiencing and going through stuff, or just being that way as your personality. Like Momentum is on your side, you move with speed & purpose. Push forward!!!

Four

how to get to your desired reality?

signs - National Olympics Games, Spelling bees, Swimming, NBA/NFL, Competitive things. Competitive work place/friend group/family. song: Candy Man, Planez by Jeremih. book: 48 Laws of Power by Robert Greene.

you may want to get away with something. wish you can take something. have a little secret. be a thief, manipulator, sneaky, rebel. something hidden that you want to get away with. this could involve a relationship or another thing you can desire in your life is a relationship. maybe a dynamic of earth sign fem/water sign masc. energetically, a woman who’s stable, has all her material desires, thriving in the physical & reality. with a emotional, caring, loving, mature man. with the 8 of cups outside of that and 7 of swords before you might have sneaky things going on in the relationship that you might want to leave behind. or you might want to leave a relationship for another person. or leave with this person. this could be another desire in your life to just maybe leave something behind, and move on from something.

you probably miss your innerchild. you miss someone you were in the past. a era in your life before. you want enjoy life, take the innocence and playfulness, the creativity & kindness of it all. you probably wish you had more integrity, more real, more logical. you probably wish you were more of a warrior, stronger, control things when it’s unfair. wish you had justice. you wish you were smart, straightforward, and had clarity, can understand things faster and see things through. better communication skills. work hard, you wish you can have consistency and persistence. good work. learn faster. wish you were good in school and your matters pertaining to your education, work, legal matters and children.

YOU GOT TO HAVE FUN THIS WORLD IS YOURS. GET SOME CONFIDENCE AND BRAVERY. take down your haters. make it through any competitive shit and stand on your throne. you control your reality, you manipulate the situation. you gain the control and the power. that means you decide when stuff is done, you leave stuff behind that doesn’t serve your best. and be in peace. SAVE and NOURISH and RESPECT & VALUE your peace. PLEASEEEEEEEEEEE put your respect and values to the right things and PEOPLE. your peace can help you understand your wishes and your values and your hopes. and help the tooth fairy to come and help you get it and gain control over the situation. meditate. and WIN 🥇

all you have to do is realize something and have the right discernment and judgement. crumble what doesn’t serve you even if it’s chaotic. bond with the right people and go to/make genuine connections. and that can help you unblock something in you to get here.

Five

How to get to your desired reality?

(same question for pile four)

signs - “Just Do it” Nike. Gigi Hadid, Victoria Secret Modeling, Makeup, Pink. Sexy (Red and Black). Red Room. Leather, Black Boots. Blonde Ponytail. Tumblr Feminine Culture. Female Gaze. Fake Friends. Popular Girl Clique. McDonalds. 4 for $4. Song: Pretty Hurts by Beyoncé. Sippy Cup by Melanie Martinez.

okay you ready to see your work that you put in, the time and investment finally make you satisfied. you probably been holding on to some burdens but your ready for a new life a new beginning something fresh. your ready for the heavy book bag to be off your shoulders life to stop kicking your ass and you can innocently walk into something new. you put in the work and your just waiting till the plants grow and you are thriving and the voids are filled. the happiness and everything you want is there. maybe something that you been wanting to start that you been investing in, caring about is something you see as a fulfillment.

you wish you were more abundant, you wish you were more lucky, you wish you were more physically wealthy. you can receive your wants more easily. you wish you were more of a person that receives good karma and fate. you wish you were emotionally stable and mature and looked at the world differently. and were a better and stronger person to achieve and accomplish.

Don’t be afraid to put yourself out there and celebrate. emotionally go forward and connect with people. But be guarded and self assured. start being kind of selfish and more connected back with self. holding on to things valuing things. be more energetic fast and about that action. start moving and starting. start DOING.

you might have body insecurities. you might have insecurities about your luck and fate. insecurities about time. insecurities about your learning abilities, your studies, your goals and ambitions. insecurities about your emotional well-being, your depression, looking on the down side. insecurites about your procrastination, persistentence, and future. your material stability. your plan and progress your path.

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sainz100 · 4 months ago

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December 2024

#carlos sainz #charles leclerc #autumn posts #a few throwbacks!!#charlos hours #also this is from antonin on insta!! i always hesitate with insta sources like its a public account but!! I don't wanna put him on blast #alas I overthink this on this site!!#wanna be respectful with credits but so many posts don't source so ... case by case maybe!!#anyways!!

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coralearei · 5 months ago

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Yandere MBTI: Mydei

Notes:

Based on the Yan!MBTI system made by @/ddarker-dreams

MDNI -- NSFW mentioned (nothing too explicit)

Word Count: 1,032

GN! Reader

Cruel - Aware - Honest - Lenient

Cruel vs. Reverent

Mydei’s cruelty sometimes comes in the form of verbal threats candidly describing what he has planned for you if you don’t acquiesce to his demands. These menacing remarks are clear, concise, and typically quite graphic— often he’ll threaten to fracture your ribs in the composed, casual manner he uses to comment on anything else. Many times, these threats will also accompany a smirk that doesn’t try to hide his exhilaration at the thought of pushing your limits.

That isn’t to say that he isn’t all bark and no bite… Mydei tends to enact physical affliction unexpectedly, without any sort of warning. He revels in your startled movements as he wills scarlet crystals to poke their keen vertices out of the ground, watching you skittishly flinch away just for another to take shape barely centimeters in front of you. He doesn’t particularly like letting the crystals impale you— a jolt or so is reasonable— but Mydei prefers to do anything more severe with his own two hands. His touch isn’t much worse; his gauntlets feel just as solid against your skin as the crystallized blood you’re subject to on a regular basis.

Unlike the jagged gems, however, Mydei himself is far more rough with you, sadistically poking and prodding your pleading, shaking body. You can’t do much more than beg him to have mercy, to stop, and promise that you won’t make the same mistake twice. Whether or not you learn from situations like this doesn’t matter— whenever Mydei puts his hands on you, it’s not only punishment— you become a rather fine source of entertainment.

Aware vs. Delusional

Mydei doesn’t pay much attention to your own love for him— that isn’t what he wants out of you in this relationship. He also happens to be someone who harbors feelings of hatred deep within himself, and he can’t blame you for doing the same. Nevertheless, Mydei will tear down any sort of defiance on the surface level that you direct at him— that sort of behavior can be quite inconvenient and untoward to deal with. What really matters to him is your ability to follow orders and your willingness to obey.

Not unlike a lot of other people, you’re quite terrified of Mydei. This is something he not only knows, but uses against you. But he doesn’t only rely on intimidation, he’s also prone to enjoying the threats he gives you in order to force you to submit. You always do. That’s Mydei’s favorite part of your personality, or so he claims. The way you never defy him in the end might make him less of a lover and more of a predator— which he indifferently accepts. Mydei is all but used to hatred and strife anyways.

Manipulative vs. Honest

Mydei approaches you head-on, with no hesitation whatsoever. When you first catch his eye, he decides you'll be a pretty thing to keep around-- and he wants to have you. Your willingness to cooperate with Mydei is won over as a result of his adroitness, which you know better as his ability to humiliate you. He isn’t afraid to threaten you in public, and when he does, you never turn down his demands in an attempt to de-escalate the situation. When Mydei does win you over, he makes sure to treat you accordingly, like the good little trophy you ought to be.

Regardless of the torment his behavior causes you, Mydei isn’t guilty in the slightest about what he does to you. Verbally, he isn’t quite upfront with you about it, but Mydei’s actions speak louder than his words. He was born to rule a city-state that glorified battle and bloodshed, which is what led him to brutally murder the former king of Castrum Kremnos. Mydei doesn’t justify the way he treats you, unlike the case in which he killed his father— but he doesn’t need a reason to. His hands have already been stained with so much blood, both literal and figurative, so what’s one more instance of the suffering of another that he causes?

Ultimately, Mydei feels utterly indifferent towards your happiness, though he does tend to take a great amount of pride when your suffering is caused by his own hands. When he’s done with you, he’ll admires the wounds and welts that decorate your pretty skin, knowing that your every imperfection is the product of his handiwork.

Strict vs. Lenient

Though Mydei gives you some semblance of freedom while he’s away, you know that there’s so much more on the line if you do anything that might ignite the spark of his fury’s flames. And although Mydei is easily annoyed, there isn’t a lot you can do to truly anger him.

For the most part, he doesn’t have a problem with leaving you to your own devices. You aren’t plucked apart from your own life when Mydei decides he’s going to make you his; he inconveniently inserts himself into yours instead. In the early stages of your abruptly-begun ‘relationship’ with him, he’s around you as much as possible, which is quite often for someone who spends so much time on the battlefield. Even so, in many cases you don’t exactly see Mydei, but he’s sure to constantly make his presence known. It’s almost like you can almost feel him near you, though you can’t quite place exactly where.

Soon enough, he has to go to war again. You almost feel a sense of relief knowing that you really all alone now— assuming you are, of course. However, it’s not as if you’re completely let off the hook during Mydei’s campaigns, which can span up to several months at a time. He’ll find time to visit you more than a few times, much to your disappointed surprise. Mydei’s sporadic visits do not only serve as a method to keep you in check. They’re also for his benefit; brashly fucking you helps him release some of his pent-up anger. If you happen to be out and about when Mydei returns, he’ll find you regardless— you’re never able to get far. And when he does find you and return to his residence with you in tow, you always know to expect much worse.

#honkai star rail #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #yandere mydei #mydei #mydei x reader #hsr mydei x reader #hsr mydei #-- the works of cora.#I pulled not one. not two. but THREE all nighters turning my cloudy thoughts into coherent words

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conchcronch · 7 months ago

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My Turn

WC: 2816

Pairing: Spite x Fem!Rook

Summary: Lucanis accidentally fell asleep which leads Spite to take over when you come to spend the evening together.

Warnings: a little bit DUB CON but it gets cleared up towards the end.

A/N: PLEASE send me prompts for Lucanis and Spite x Rook, I’m obsessed.

The lack of a moon and stars in the Fade had unsettled you since your first night at the Lighthouse. The sky was lit as though there were some sort of light source but you could never find one as you walked from the main building out to the farthest room at the end of the courtyard. What had originally been your dining hall had been taken over by the Crow, feeling most at comfort in the dank pantry, not something you could fully understand but you also had no intention of questioning it more then you already had.

The door was unlocked, the fire lit in between the two wolf statues. Your partner was not leaning against the mantle as you had expected, but the flickering of candles through the pantry/bedroom door quickly hinted at where he likely was. You noticed freshly brewed coffee, two mugs set out, anticipating your arrival. You cleared the distance from the door to the counter in the small, dark kitchen. Taking your time prepping the coffee, leaving his black so he could taste the flavor notes of this particular blend, but pouring a decent amount of milk in your mug, the thought of leaving yours black made you grimace.

With mugs of coffee in hand you walked past the fireplace, the warmth wrapping around your legs making the cold of the back bedroom all the more jarring. His back was to you, the candle light flickering, distorting his shadow as it danced across the wall. “I brought you coffee, it might be a little cold, but I can warm it up if you want.” You took a quick sip of yours as you held his outstretched, his back still to you.

“Not now” a wave of his hand made you cock an eyebrow but put the mug down on a small shelf nevertheless. You leaned your back against the sturdy oak shelving, sipping your coffee as you tried to output enough fire magic from your palm to warm the ceramic mug rather then ignite it. The silence stretched on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable despite being slightly out of character for him. Ever since the blighted dragon attacked Tarviso he had been different, the sight of such a beast in a town that he and his family were fighting so hard to save must have proved to him just how delicate it really was.

His weight shifted from foot to foot, his hand under his chin, toying with his beard as he so often did when deep in thought. “Neve is still gone” the silence had stretched on much too long for your liking, your anxiety gnawing at you as you watched him. You were hoping he’d reassure you, tell you you had no choice but to make the impossible call, to thank you for choosing his city over her’s. But instead he just stood there, silent, unmoving. “I’m worried she might not come back, Bellara says she will, but honestly I’m not sure I would if I were her.” You tipped your head further back, the last mouthful of coffee warming your throat as you put your mug on the shelf next to his. “Lucanis,” He didn’t budge at the use of his name, his shoulders barely even moving as he breathed. You stepped closer to him, your hand out in front of you to touch his shoulder. “If now’s not a good time I ca-“ He felt cooler to the touch, even through the layers of his shirt and vest, it was as though his body was giving off no heat.

“Smells like waterlily.” The voice was his, but not entirely. His accent was present but the pitch off, the tone heightened. You tensed, preparing yourself for whatever was to come next. Finally the body of your partner turned, his eyes glowing purple as you’ve seen only a handful of times before.

“Spite” The name feels sharp in your mouth, your tone giving away your hesitation. He leaned forward, sniffing you closer and you remained glued in place. He stepped forward, close enough you could wrap your arms around him if you really wanted to. You can feel his breath on your neck as he inhaled your scent deeply, his face was so close to your skin you swear you could feel his lips against you for the briefest of seconds.

“You came to us for pleasure” You felt your face flush, of course it wasn’t your only intention, but you certainly weren’t going to turn it down if one thing led to another, but your relationship was still fairly new, and despite your longing for a physical component you weren’t intending to push those boundaries. But for your desires to be so bluntly outed there was a wave of embarrassment that washed over you.

“Let me talk to Lucanis.” You stepped back, crossing your arms over your chest but not missing the way the demon’s purple eyes dragged down your form.

“It’s my turn with you.” You couldn't deny how impressed you were at Spite’s fairly calm demeanor, after listening to many of Lucanis’ one sided conversations with the demon you had expected him to be bordering on feral when speaking directly to him.

”Spite, I want to talk to Lucanis.” You added a bit more force to your tone, hoping the demon would grow tired of your insistence and go back to wherever it is he resides when Lucanis is in control. But when you felt hands on your hips, tugging you against the body you so desperately craved it took you a beat before you were struggling against the grip.

His lips were on your neck, lapping more than kissing. Groaning as he did so, every lick finishing with a gravelly moan, his hips rutting against your side as his hands balled the cotton of your shirt. “sp-pite- fuck” You tried to convince yourself to push away from him, but your longing for the Crow was fogging your brain. You could feel your core pulse, his tongue working wonders along your sensitive neck and the slightly distorted moans were making it difficult to resist.

“Spite” You tried to say but it ended up coming out as a whine rather than a demand, receiving what could only be referred to as a purr instead of a hum.

“Can smell how wet you are, Rook” The way he purred your name forced you to swallow a moan. Before you were able to even notice him walking you backwards, your back was against the stone wall of his makeshift bedroom. His fingers trying to unbutton the top clasp of your navy casual shirt, bought from a Crow vendor Lucanis had brought you to not that long ago. His patience lasted about as long as it took you to blink before he ripped the garment open, buttons falling to the ground around your feet.

Before you could chastise him about the now ruined shirt, the words died in your throat the moment his hands were on your bare waist. His blunt, well manicured nails dug into your skin, as he pressed your body against the wall, his lips finally on yours.

This wasn’t the first kiss you and Lucanis would have shared, but it certainly was the most heated. Every kiss with Lucanis had stopped before it went anywhere, his lips pulling away as soon as you tried to deepen it, never giving a reason but always retreating afterwards. But the way Spite kissed you, the way his tongue invaded your mouth, marking what you knew he’d refer to as his territory. You were trapped between him and the wall, his hands slipped down from your waist until he could roughly grab your ass, keeping your hips against his as he rutted against you, moans and grunts flowing from his mouth every time it wasn’t covered by your own lips.

“Had to…” He spoke into your mouth, his words fading as though he forgot he was even speaking “had to watch him. Watch him kiss you. Terribly.”

“Spite” you tried to sound as though his sentence offended, but it ended up coming out far more breathy than intended.

“Could smell you. Can always smell you. I always tell him. Tell him you want this. But he never listens to me.” He’s back to your neck, lapping at your skin, dragging his tongue down to your collarbones, his hands kneading the fat of your ass.

”Spite, I think- ah- I think it’s Lucanis’ turn.” Spite laughed against you, biting at your collar hard enough you weren’t sure if he had drawn blood or not.

“He’ll stop.” His mouth sank lower, nipping at the tops of your breast, “I know you don’t want to stop. Can smell it.”

“Spite, please.” Reluctantly he pulled away from your chest, your eyes meeting his glowing purple sockets, and somehow you could have sworn you saw his expression soften for a fraction of a second. You reached forward, cupping his cheek as you had done countless times to Lucanis, hoping the demon found the same comfort in it that the Crow did. He pressed his cheek into your palm,

“Will I get. Another turn?” You couldn’t resist nodding, finding yourself thinking how cute he was, despite the fact he was still pressing you against a wall and had torn your shirt in two.

You watched the demon blink, his purple eyes closing and reopening with black pupils, brows furrowed in confusion as he stared into your eyes, blinking a few times as though he was trying to clear sleep from his vision. Lucanis’ breath quickened, immediately trying to assess the situation that he had just woken up in. “Did he hurt you?!” His tone was dripping in anxiety as he stepped away from you, your hand falling from his cheek as he hurriedly looked around.

His eyes moved down your body then back up, pausing before repeating the same thing, slower this time. The tips of his ears burned red as he realized what had happened as he unknowingly slept. “Mierda” He looked down at the buttons that lay around your feet.

It was impossible to not notice how he was straining against his slacks, his eyes everywhere but your gaze. “I-I sho- I should go” You wanted to stop him, grab him by the wrist before he was out of reach, but your mind was still foggy with lust and craving more of what Spite had been giving you, but this time you wanted to feel Lucanis’ lips against you.

You stood there for what felt like an hour but you knew it couldn’t have been that long, leaning back against the wall behind you, hoping the cool stone would help clear your thoughts and bring back some reason.

By the time you went to go find the Crow, the sky surrounding the Lighthouse had shifted to black, the pieces of debris still floating around the buildings as though it were as normal as clouds in the sky. As you climbed the rickety stairs that led to the top of the dining hall you glanced around the courtyard, trying to see if any of your companions were out. You expected to see Emmrick on the balcony of the main house where he so often went at night, taking note of the ethers in the Fade. But tonight there wasn’t a soul outside apart from you, Lucanis and Spite.

He stood at the far side of the roof, bent over the railing, his head hung down so his forehead was resting against his arm. No matter how quietly you approached him, he always knew you were there. You could tell he knew by the way his body stiffened, his shoulders tensing and his head moving so he was looking out over the courtyard.

He needed time, time to figure out what had just happened, how far things had gone, time for his unexpected erection to go away, and time away from your intoxicating scent. But of course you were coming up the wooden steps not long after him.

He tried to pull himself together, locking his eyes on the back of the wolf statue in the middle of the courtyard, the cool ‘night’ air was the only thing that was keeping his cheeks from turning pink again. You stood beside him silently, leaning over the edge of the building, taking in the view of the Lighthouse.

You could feel how uncertain he was, his hands clenched the railing, his posture even straighter than normal as he pretended like he was taking in the sights just as you were. The breeze reminded you of your open shirt, which you tried to hold close with one hand while the other pushed through your bangs in an attempt to ease your uncertainty. “I’m not sure what to say.” You laughed awkwardly, desperate to break the silence that stretched between the two of you.

“Then why say anything.”

“Because I’m worried if I don’t start talking, you might never speak to me again.” You hazarded a look at him from the corner of your eye, hoping to gauge his reaction to some extent, but it remained stoic.

The silence stretched on until the sky darkened even more, the colour the same shade of blue as the Crows’ armor when you first laid eyes on him. You fidgeted anxiously, changing positions over and over again as the time passed, until you had your back to the railing, head up looking for any kind of star above you. “I should have been more careful.” It almost sounded like the words were meant for himself rather than you, as though he were reprimanding himself.

“Why?”

“He could have hurt you…I…I could have hurt you.” You couldn’t stop the little scoff that slipped out, turning to look at him with a smile across your lips, meeting his eyes for the first time since Spite had relinquished control. “Is now really the time to laugh?”

“If you think I couldn’t take you in a fight, you’re sorely mistaken, Crow.” You watched his eyebrow raise, the corner of his mouth following, but only slightly.

“Are you trying to change the subject?”

“I don’t know,” You sidestepped, bringing your shoulders closer so you could nudge against him “Why, is it working?”

“This is serious, Rook.” He turned to face you, his hand on his hip as he shifted his weight. “I let my guard down, and you…he forced himself on you.”

“That’s the thing,” You stood up straight, turning to look at him fully while you rubbed at the back of your neck, knowing that the next thing out of your mouth had the potential to end your relationship before it had really started. “He didn’t force himself on me, he more…initiated it, I guess.” You watched his eyes narrow, his brow furrowing as he tried to piece together what you were saying. “I could have pushed him away if I wanted to.”

“But you didn’t?” There was an underlying disgust in his voice, as though the thought of being with him was so vile he couldn’t even pretend to understand.

“I didn’t.” The silence left as heavy as the weight of the world that seemed to live on your shoulders. He broke what little eye contact you had held, shifting his weight as he put more of his weight on the railing, his hair slipping from behind his ear.

“Why didn’t you?” His voice was quiet, if there had been even a bit of a breeze, you may have missed his question all together.

“Because I wanted it.” You watched his hands clenched into fists, his jaw tightening so you could see his teeth grind. “But I wanted it from you.”

“From me?” You couldn’t stop the small laugh that slipped from your lips at his clearly, surprised tone.

”Lucanis,” You leaned against the small wall, one hand on the railing the other perched on your hip. “This can’t possibly come as a surprise.” He looked over at you, cheeks just a hint of pink.

“I just- I didn’t know you wanted…that.” He dropped his eyes again but not before dragging along the sliver of bare skin he could see between the seams of your torn shirt.

And to think he had touched you, kissed you, dragged his hands down your bare skin, and didn’t get to enjoy even an ounce of it.

“Consider this your formal announcement that, Lucanis-“ You stepped closer to him, waiting a beat before he too straightened, turning to face you so you could press your forehead to his. “I desperately want exactly what Spite was doing. But I want to try it with you.” The only response you received was a low hum that you felt rubble from his chest and into yours as he grabbed your waist and tugged you against him.

#dragon age veilguard #dragon age lucanis #dragon age rook #lucanis romance #lucanis x reader #lucanis x rook #datv lucanis #da4 lucanis #lucanis dellamorte #spite dragon age #spite dellamorte #dragon age smut #lucanis smut

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estherscorner · 5 months ago

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You always ask yourself-, What would Childe pick? You, or his job as a harbinger?

He loves you with all of his heart, he would trip over himself just to be all over you. But he has responsibilities. He has a job that always puts himself on constant alert and danger.

Danger that not only involved him, but his personal life too.

He wouldn't be able to balance a life with you and his high-demanding job. He wants to be a good lover, not the perfect one, but atleast a spouse that would always be there for you no matter what.

But his responsibilities as a harbinger always eat away at his time. Having him to accidentally neglect you due to a busy schedule. Have him always stand you up on dates and whispering sweet apologies to make it up to you.

It was routine at this point. You knew he wasn't able to keep up with his own schedules.

He can't also quit being part of the fatui, It was his source of income, his source of thrill. And he held deep devotion to the Tsaritsa. So leaving was out of the question.

But he was also hurting you.

You were fed up. You gave him a choice. A chance to think. A decision between you, or his career.

You knew he loved being a harbinger. But if he couldn't keep up with his inconsistencies and dangerous missions, you'd both only end up hurting eachother.

So when he couldn't answer your question, seeing the hesitance in his eyes as he couldn't mutter a single word. You knew he wouldn't be able to choose.

So you chose for him.

You left the following evening. A sense of lingering struck you as you felt the bittersweet taste of being someone's second choice.

But you didn't hold any resentment towards him. All you could think of was how it hurt to let go of someone despite loving eachother so dearly.

#genshin angst #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #childe #yandere imagines #tartaglia #childe x reader #childe x you #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x you #angst

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scarnatlover · 9 months ago

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Could you write a Natasha x reader fic where reader gets back from a mission and is really sore so Nat gives reader a massage and reader lets out a little moan then things get heated?

(If not it’s fine)

(Also do you write G!P? If you do can this be a g!p story?)

A little bird told me...

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x G!P Reader (romantic)

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. sexual themes, smut, Reader has a cock, sensual massage, mommy kink, mention of punishment, light choking, cowgirl, missionary, lingerie, nipple piercing, handjob, blowjob but not really, alcoholic parent (mention), murder/death (mention) blood (mention), talking about trauma.

A/N: I'm sorry if anything is spelled incorrectly, but English is not my first language. I apologize in advance for my grammar and spelling. If you have any request, I will try and write them.

It was late when the Quinjet finally landed. The mission had gone very well. You, Clint, and Sam had retrieved the information Fury had requested, but not without struggles. You had promised Nat that you would return to her without a scratch, when in reality you were not entirely without injuries. A few cuts here and there, but still nothing to worry about; at least in your opinion.

Nat was waiting for you at the bottom of the ramp, arms crossed and a big smile plastered on her face. You slowly approached her, then put your bag on the ground to hug her, resting your head on her shoulder as one of her hands scratched the back of your neck and the other caressed your back.

"So? How did it go?" she asked, kissing your head before cupping your face in her hands and giving you a kiss that probably lasted longer than it should have. "Any injuries I should know about?" You just shook your head, not wanting to admit that you were actually hurt. But Nat could see right through your lies. "Hey, hey, what did we say about lying? We don't lie to each other, and I know for a fact that this cut wasn't there when we saw each other this morning," she said, referring to the cut on your eyebrow. She then slid her hand from your face to your hand, taking it in hers, and walked with you to your room.

Once inside, she helped you take off your shirt, tended to your wounds, scolded you for not being careful enough, and then left you in the bathroom alone to shower.

"Babe?" you heard her call from the other side of the door as you washed your hair. "Do you want me to give you a massage? I know how relaxing they are, especially after a mission," she continued. You said yes of course, without even hesitating. You've always loved the feeling of her hands on you, even before you started dating. From the way she'd comfort you by placing a hand on your back when a mission wasn't going well, to the way she'd accidentally caress your cock when you were sitting next to each other.

Once out of the shower, you dried yourself, body and hair, then wrapped a towel around yourself and left the bathroom, only to see the lights in the room off, except for your table lamp, which was the only source of light in the room, and Nat sitting on the bed dressed only in her underwear and at that sight you felt your cock harden.

You went to your underwear drawer so you could cover yourself, but Nat stopped you before you could. Turning to look her in the eyes, you noticed that she had already pulled out some boxers for you. Her favorites, to be precise. That black pair of Calvin Kleins she bought you a few months ago. The same pair that you know she completely loses her mind over.

"Put them on and then lie on your stomach. I can see how tense your back is," she said, occasionally biting her lower lip, her gaze never leaving your body, focusing mainly on your eyes, your abs, and the outline of your cock, which was slowly getting harder.

Without hesitation, you did what she said, putting on your underwear and then lying on your stomach. You heard her get out of bed and go to the bathroom, then return and set down a bottle of massage oil.

"It's your favorite. Now, relax and let me do all the work."

Her hands hovered over your skin, just close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from her palms. She started at your shoulders, her touch gentle, teasing. She pressed her thumbs into the tense muscles at the base of your neck, working slowly in firm, circular motions. You sighed softly, your body melting beneath her touch With each stroke, you could feel yourself getting harder, she let her hands glide lower, tracing the curve of your spine. Her fingers spread, following the natural lines of your body, applying just enough pressure to unravel the knots of tension wound tight beneath your skin. You arched subtly, groaning, responding instinctively to the pleasure coursing through you as her hands worked magic, easing away the day's stresses.

She paused, dipping her hands back into the bowl of warm oil, letting it drip languidly over your back. It cascaded in slow, lazy streams, pooling at the base of your spine. She spreads it evenly with her palms, kneading your flesh with a mix of tenderness and control, the friction building a steady, delicious heat. As her hands ventured lower, her thumbs pressed into the small of your back, eliciting a soft gasp and a light hump against the pillow under you. She moved deliberately, savoring every inch of you, reading the subtle shifts of your body like a map. She could feel you breathing slow, your muscles loosening under her touch. Each stroke was an invitation, a promise, lingering just at the edge of something deeper.

Her touch grew bolder, exploring the curve of your body, tracing patterns that left your breath hitting. You turned your head to the side, your eyes fluttering closed in pleasure, surrendering completely to the rhythm of her hands. She leaned in, her breath warm against your ear as her fingers danced along your skin, every touch deliberate, every movement a silent conversation. And just then, from the immense pleasure you were feeling and from the contact between her pussy and your hips, making you feel how excited she was too, you let out a moan.

“Did you just-? God, turn over, on your back. Now,” and you did just that. She got off the bed, standing in front of you with her arms crossed and a smug smirk on her face, giving you the chance to turn around. Once on your back, she could clearly see your erection and the stain of pre-cum. “Oh baby, look at it. You got all turned on, just because Mommy was giving you a massage, hm.”

She slowly moved closer to you, swaying her hips, and sat on your lap, making you moan as her soaked panties touched your erection. She started grinding back and forth, moaning, while you could only whimper, throwing your head back. She gripped your jaw, looking into your eyes.

“A little birdie told me,” she began, her hips never stopping to move, “that today isn’t the first time you’ve lied to me this week,” she continued, increasing her speed. She moved her hand from your jaw to wrap around your neck, choking you and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. “You know how much Mommy hates lies. Normally this would mean you'd be getting punished, but not tonight. But I'll take my time with you,” she concluded, kissing you hard.

At this point, you couldn't even think clearly. Her hand on your throat, applying gentle pressure, her violent kisses, her hips that kept rocking above you didn't allow it. For this, you just nodded without even really understanding her statement. And suddenly, everything stopped. She got up, leaving you alone on the bed, and stood in front of you. You sat on the bed and wrapped your arms around her waist, resting your chin on her sternum.

“I missed you so much, bunny,” she whispered, kissing your forehead and running her hand through your hair repeatedly. She definitely missed you judging by the lack of underwear in the drawer, snack wrappers in the bin, and sweatshirts thrown around the room.

You smiled sweetly at her and she immediately smiled back and kissed you softly. She sat down on you, but not before pulling down your underwear, presenting your hard cock, and taking off her panties in turn, which you only now realized were your favorite and that they matched the bra she was wearing, the pink color almost the same as her pale skin given the dim light in the room.

She grabbed your cock, raised herself slightly, and slowly slid your cock inside her. She sat on you, still, enjoying the pleasurable sensation of being full. She took your hands that were on her hips and slowly placed them on her breasts. “I have a surprise for you,” she said, moving her hands behind her back and quickly unhooking her bra. She threw it somewhere in the room, but you didn’t notice because what you were focused on were the jewels attached to her nipples. “Do you like them, bunny? You know, they’re much more sensitive now,” she commented, bringing your hands to her globes again. You started to gently massage her boobs, her mouth making the shape of an O. But when you finally teased and pinched her nipples, she couldn’t help but moan loudly.

She finally started to move back and forth on you. You started thrusting, to help her reach climax before you. Usually in these moments she's the one trying to make you come first, but tonight you decided to let her take precedence. Moving a hand from one of her breasts to use as support, you quickly changed positions, with you now on top of her.

You increased your thrusts, moving your other hand to her clit and making tight circles on it, occasionally applying a little pressure. She cried out in pleasure, her movements slowly stopping just like your thrusts, but continuing long enough to allow her to prolong her orgasm as much as possible. She only stopped completely when she started to feel overstimulated.

She let you slide out of her, but still remained sitting on your lap. “You didn’t come?” she asked, but it was less of a question and more of a statement. You shook your head and she sighed, a little disappointed that you didn’t finish inside her. She stood up and slowly walked over to your nightstand, where you kept the various bottles of lube. She grabbed one and walked back to you. She fell to her knees in front of you and squirted some onto her hand. You watched her every action, every move with apprehension.

She finally closed her hand around your length, making you throw your head back in pleasure. Natasha started moving her hand up and down your shaft, slowly at first to get you fully hard, then gradually faster. “Mommy is making you feel good, mhm?” to which you quickly nodded, letting out moans and groans. “Are you close? Do you want to come for Mommy? Want to be a good little bunny for me?” she asked in vain, because she already knew the answer.

“Please Mommy” you started thrusting too, trying to find the right speed to make you come faster.

She squeezed her hand a little tighter while with the other she gently massaged your balls. Seeing you so close to her peak, she engulfed the tip of your cock, tracing the outside with her tongue, and she started sucking. Feeling the sensation of her lips and her tongue on your sensitive tip finally made you cum in her mouth.

She swallowed it all, but when she looked at your face instead of a happy look, she saw only tears. She took action immediately. She laid you down on the bed and ran to the bathroom and started filling the bathtub. Once she was done she came back to the room, this time seeing you face down. She sat down next to you and placed her hand on your back, offering you silent comfort. She gently took your face in her hands, making your eyes meet.

“I have a hot bath ready. Do you want to come with me?” she whispered, giving you a big smile.

You followed her without hesitation, wanting only to be with her in that moment. She went in first, making sure your back was against her chest, and left soft kisses wherever she could reach. Despite her attempt at silent comfort, your tears wouldn’t stop falling. “Do you want to talk about it?” Nat asked, noticing the river of tears.

“I saw something while I was on a mission” you whispered, your voice cracking with almost every word. Nat continued to kiss you, waiting for you to tell her what set you off. “It was like I was in that house and I was reliving that night all over again.” Nat stopped suddenly.

During your relationship, surprisingly, you were the one who had the hardest time opening up. You grew up in a toxic environment and she knew it. “Nothing compared to what you went through,” you told her every time. But Natasha always responded, comforting and reassuring you, saying that her traumas were just as important as yours and that they shouldn’t be compared. Of course, you told her, briefly and without much detail, what you went through.

How you grew up in a toxic environment. Your father was a workaholic, who would get irritable whenever he wasn’t at work or if he didn’t have full control over things. Your mother was an alcoholic, who could only go a short time without drinking alcohol. They never hit you or hurt you physically, but the scars remained. You saw things a child should never see.

One night things got particularly bad. You had just come home from spending the day at a friend’s house. As you entered the house, you noticed that the lights were off, except for the kitchen ones. You walked towards the light, thinking that one of your parents had accidentally left it on before going to bed, but instead, when you entered, all you saw was your father’s inert body on the floor, a pool of blood all around him, and your mother was nowhere to be seen. After that, your memories are all hazy, as if your mind had shut down. You only remember Nick Fury sitting in front of you while you're at the police station.

Natasha placed her hands on your shoulders, massaging them and tightening her grip, as if to reassure her. "I know it was hard. But you're strong. Stronger than you think." You opened your eyes and looked at Natasha, a look of gratitude in your eyes. "Thank you, Nat. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Natasha smiled at you, stroking a lock of your damp hair. "We're a team, remember? Always and no matter what." The two of you were silent for a moment, listening only to the sound of the running water.

You rested your head on Natasha's shoulder, feeling protected and safe. Tears slid down your face, but this time they weren't tears of pain, but of relief. Natasha gently wiped your cheeks with her thumb. "It's okay, my love. I'm here."

#black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff fanfic #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you

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laufeysgoddess · 10 days ago

Text

DON'T CUT THE BAT CHALLENGE, GO ✷ b. wayne

summary. you shave your boyfriend's beard. contents. close physical proximity, sexual tension (not explicit), kissing, fluff, banter, ooc (? hopefully not). age gap but not mentioned, reader is implied to be hyper-feminine. speak now. First fic eeeeeek!! This was supposed to be out last month but finals were killing me. Not proofread! Nor am I sure if it's in character. But @spcherryygirl and @yeoniverseee read it(my girls fr). Layout is also by vivi! English isn't my first language so there's probably some typos and some grammatical mistakes

"Stop moving," you demaned furrowed brows drawn back as you lift the razor up to his jawline once more. "Seriously. if iI screw this up, you'll be a half-mowed lawn."

"I'm not going anywhere," he says, stupidly smooth and low, voice hoarse. "You're the one who's trembling."

"I am not," you whisper, and you are. just a little. maybe. “Jeez, let me concentrate."

It goes silent after that, and it's worse somehow. his hands are on your thighs, and it is not helping you concentrate. you pick up the razor once again, and trace its edge under his chin like you've seen in the movies( a.k.a your source ). Shaving cream is everywhere. On your wrist, on his neck, on the stupid robe hem.

"Damian would really kill me if I cut your throat," you mutter. "He already glares at me like I'm trying to replace his mom." (Well, chill.)

Bruce exhales a gentle laugh, head cocking slightly so you can brush the corner of his jaw. "He's just protective.”

"you don't say," you replied, not wanting to smile because he's still staring at you and it's only not fair the way his eyes get crinkly soft when he's being gentle. It's unfair. Is he even aware of how beautiful he is? "He almost stabbed my thigh with a batarang the first time I brought cupcakes."

"you brought pink cupcakes," bruce says, and now he's real smiling, like, actually smiling, which is about once every five years. "with edible glitter."

"excuse me for trying to bond," you laugh, drawing back a little to brush some cream from his chin with your sleeve. "at least now he tolerates me feeding him without pretending that I'm poisoning his food."

Bruce hums, and the hum is so low it vibrates in your chest. "he's attached to you. in his own way."

"Says the man who taught him to fight blindfolded underwater."

You draw the blade lightly down the final patch of stubble on his jaw, your lower lip caught between your teeth.

And finally,when you're finished, you sit back and inspect your handiwork.

"Huh," you remark. "not terrible for a first-time beard serial killer."

He laughs, then tilts his head just a little, close enough that you can smell the light cologne he always wears.

You don't even hesitate to think about it. You lean in and kiss him. A quick one, hardly even two seconds, before you pull back with a blegh.

"Ugh. gross. Why does that shaving stuff taste like battery acid?"

His eyes linger on you, amused. "You kissed me."

“And you've tasted battery acid?” He added.

"Yeah. and i regret it," You answered, running your lips across your sleeve. "What's in that stuff? motor oil?"

He doesn't say anything. Anyway, he leans in closer — impossibly closer, like he always seems to do — and presses two fingers against your chin and nips at you.

This time it's slower. Softer. And gets your entire body quiet. And still as a statue.

When he stops, your eyes are half-lidded and your lips are still buzzing and perhaps your head is short-circuiting a bit.

"Better?" he whispers.

you blink. "Yeah. Okay. That— yeah. That was better."

He smiles. The one you reserve for each other kind of smile.

"Good," he says, his thumb stroking your jaw. "Next time, I'll show you how to do the aftershave."

"Bold of you to think I'm putting hands on that weird alcohol liquid," you tell him, but your arms are already wrapped around his neck and you're already leaning forward again.

Actually, you're totally down to do it again.

small chitchat !

#❪ laufeysgoddess ❫#𐙚 dc < 3 #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne #batman x reader #dc x reader #dcu x reader

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runningfrom2am · 29 days ago

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cold nights // signifying nothing (prequel)

summary: before everything, there came the reaping.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.7k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n:

close enough WELCOME BACK COLD NIGHTS I MISSED YOU!! :)

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board

"Don't worry, bug. Your year won't ever come."

In the peaceful quiet of your bedroom, cicadas buzzing outside your window, you lay curled up under the quilts with your brother hoping they can coat him like a shield of armour. Impenetrable. Warm. Safe.

You only had two years left, this and the next, before you would be safe from the reaping. Lennox had four.

He wouldn't ever dare to show it outside of the safety of this room under the cloak of night, but he was terrified. And you were as well, knowing you couldn't save him if it was his year.

"I feel it. I feel it, something bad is going to happen. I'm going to- they're going to call me." He was crying as he spoke, his voice, only recently broken, shaking you down to your core.

You offer him a sympathetic smile in the dim light, reaching up to brush his hair back from his face. "Remember last year? We had this exact same conversation. And the year before that, and the year before that, too. They're yet to call your name, and they won't. Not ever, bug."

You knew it had the potential to be an empty promise. That you very well could find yourself in the crowd of other kids tomorrow morning and hear your little brother's name echoed over the speakers- a summoning to death, but the odds of that actually happening were slim. One in close to three hundred other boys in the District aged between 12 and 18. He would be okay, you were certain.

When you're only met with sniffles in response, you pull the quilt up over your heads, pressing your forehead against his. "To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow," You whisper, and Lennox stops his sniffling.

"Don't give me a monologue right now." He grumbles, and it pulls a slight smile to your lips. You continue anyway.

"Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!"

You can see he's smiling too, even just a little bit as your eyes adjust to the dark.

"Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more. It is a tale..." You pause, and he sighs.

"Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing." He whispers along with you.

You let the silence swallow you both for a moment, looking at the redness in his cheeks and eyes from tears of fear. "It's signifying nothing, Lennox." You whisper again. "You will be okay."

Come the morning, his tears have dried and he puts a brave face on for your parents. You eat breakfast before the sun rises, before your father has to leave for work in the mines, and Lennox laughs and jokes with them as if he's never been less afraid in his life.

Your mother always has this look in her eye on reaping day. Her eyes are red-rimmed, puffy around the edges much like your brothers. You think that on this morning every year, they never look more alike. She's quieter as she makes something special, wheat toast with crushed berries and boiled sugar on top. Even a few chocolate shavings, if the year can spare it. This year, you can.

But then your father has to go, and you can see the hesitation in his look before he even moves to get up from the table dimly lit by a few lanterns so early in the morning. He chews on the inside of his cheek, looking down at his empty plate. He doesn't want to look at you. You know that, but you sit next to him at his spot at the head of the table, wishing he would.

"I should probably get-to-steppin'." He says, just like every normal morning when one of you happens to be up early enough to hear it. It's missing the cheerful note it usually carries, though.

Your mother nods, and both you and Lennox stand as your chairs push back simultaneously.

Your brother goes first, stepping around the edge of the dining table and shoving himself into your father's arms without a word. The air in your house feels multitudes thicker as you watch them.

"Be good for your mother," Your dad whispers, unable to help getting choked up already. He's holding the back of Lennox's sleep shirt so tight you know he's truly afraid he'll be ripped from his arms at any moment. "I love you so much. I love you more than anything. My baby boy..."

The nickname is reserved for days like today, of which there are very few. Your brother is fifteen now, and should be turning sixteen in just over a month. But on days like today, he's still just a baby.

Eventually, with a pat on his back, your father lets him go and Lennox knows he has to do the same even if neither of them want to.

His spot in your father's arms expands and shifts into your own, and before you're even aware of your feet carrying you those short three steps, your face is buried in his shoulder and his calloused hands are in your hair and on your back.

"Be good for your mother," He echoes the same sentiment to you, but his voice cracks. "My beautiful girl, I love you. I love you so much."

And into your hair, he whispers: "Be great in act, as you have been in thought."

You got your penchant for reading from your father. Most of your books, as well. You don't know where his family had acquired such a collection of by now ancient texts, but you were endlessly grateful. And together, he was determined that you both would read every last one. With the loss of a more than a few nights of sleep, that is.

"I'll see you tonight." You whisper back, a quiet reassurance that neither of you can fully, wholeheartedly accept. He nods anyway. "I love you, pa."

"I love you too," He replies, because saying it only twice wasn't enough. "Think about what you want to read tonight, and we'll all head out to the meadow, yeah? You and ma make some of those cookies I love, I'll be expecting them when I get home tonight."

"They'll be ready." You promise him, trying not to let the possibility that this is your last ever conversation choke you. Like last year and the year before, you were confident you would see him tonight. Both of you would, and to act as if you wouldn't, to say any kind of real goodbye would only result in the worst. But still, you couldn't take it. Maybe Lennox had gotten in your head last night, saying he felt like something would happen.

As your father pats your back in signal that he's going to let you go, you only hug him tighter. "I love you." You say again, but you both know it means something else this time.

The narrow, unpaved road and outskirts of the town are deathly quiet when the sun rose, and remained that way even close to noon as you held your mother's hand and walked down to the city centre. Lennox drags his feet a few paces ahead of you, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he kicks along the same rock he had been since you left the house.

Tybalt, bless his little heart, has decided to join you as well. You'd made it out the door, sans saying goodbye to him in manifestation that you would be back in the afternoon, before he jumped out the window of your bedroom and followed you out to the street. With a huff, your mother returned inside to grab his makeshift leash to be able to at least keep him close during the reaping if he wouldn't allow her to hold him.

You wanted to hold him, of course, but God forbid your name is pulled and then you would just have to hand him to Lucy Gray and say goodbye. You knew he would be fine if that was the case, but the odds of you being strong enough to let him go in a moment like that were slim to none.

Walking into the square and up at the stage ahead, grey and brown and dreary, you linger by the surrounding buildings for a moment.

"We should wait for the Covey." You suggest quietly, wrapping your arm around your mother's.

"Good idea, sweetheart." She agrees, entirely unwilling to let either of you go yet either.

But that excuse didn't last forever, and they came running into the square just as peacekeepers came rounding up the stragglers, forcing kids out of the arms of their parents and into mildly organized rows. Girls on one side, boys on the other.

Starting with the little ones, your mother hugs each of them and whispers something to them. A brief "I love you", if you had to guess, or some assurance that they would be okay. That it wouldn't be their year. When she gets to Lucy Gray, your friend grabs you by your hand and pulls you in to share in it.

"Oh, I love you, my girls... We'll see you both after. Dinner at ours tonight, Lucy Gray, we wanna hear that new song you've been-"

Her attempts to calm you both with normalcy is cut short by a peacekeeper grabbing the back of your dress and yanking you off them, nudging a gun into your shoulder. "Line up."

Lucy Gray was getting much of the same treatment, but she was able to grab your hand once they released the back of her corset. It was a beautiful dress, her mother's that she wore every year just like you wore yours every year. Hers was much nicer, that if she were to get picked it would scream to the world that she is not erasable. You'd commented on it years ago, the first time she'd been eligible and had to join you in the lineup, with the rainbow ruffles getting caught under her boots from it being too big for her. She'd offered to share it with you, to trim the bottom and make that into a shawl or a skirt or a scarf for you to wear so you could match and so she wouldn't step on it anymore. You said no, though. You knew she'd grow into it, and you liked the one your mother had stitched for you anyway.

You look for your brother in the crowd as you make your way with the Covey girls over to the rows and rows of other young kids.

Somewhere in the middle, you end up in the row behind Lennox, though he's obviously on the other side. You can see him, which comes as a comfort. He can't see you, though, unless he turns his head. Which he does.

You meet his eyes and give him a small nod, and little CC next to him looks over as well. You give him a subtle wave and what you hope is a reassuring smile, blowing him a kiss which he pretends to catch. You pat your pocket, nodding for him to "save it for later", and he grins. What little you could do to make the little ones feel better was extended eagerly and at every opportunity.

Lucy Gray's hand is shaking in yours, and she leans in closer as the Mayor starts speaking, ignoring him completely. "Billy Taupe is upset with me." She whispers, and you'd welcome the familiarity of her boy troubles happily as a distraction.

"Why?" You ask quietly.

"Jessup Diggs." Apparently they were cutting right to the chase today. You knew him, sort of. You weren't close, but you often helped your ma fix up clothes for his family, or she stopped to chat with them in the market on days where you weren't in a rush. He's a lovely young man. It's heartbreaking.

But it isn't any of your boys. You spare Lennox a weak smile and a nod just after Jessup is escorted down the middle between you.

Lucy Gray continues, though, rushed now to get her words out. "He's cheatin' on me again, with Mayfair." Your eyes widen and your jaw locks as you find the mayors daughter in the crowd. "I gave him hell for it and he said we're done."

"Oh, hon-" You want to try and comfort her, but you don't get the chance.

"I'm scared they're gonna call me. That she told her pa, and-"

She stops dead in her tracks when your your name echoes through the square instead.

Your eyes snap up to the stage again, feeling oddly calm considering you're certain you'd just been handed a death sentence.

Still, you smile, eyes getting watery. You can feel the eyes of everyone on you- not that it was a concern of yours, but the gaze of Maude Ivory and Clerk Carmine and Lennox felt particularly heavy. Lennox's relief had been so short lived.

Lucy Gray whispers your name, sounding horrified. You can't look at her, but you know the expression on her face. Similar to yours, minus the smile. Hurt, angry- you're sure. "Give 'em a show. Don't go down quiet." She whispers, and you can hear the crack in her voice. The last words your best friend would ever share with you.

Heart pounding you nod a little, pushing your shoulders back as you drop her hand and walk down to the middle aisle, cameras tracking your every step. For as long as you've been eligible for the reaping, that had been exactly your plan. To get into the arena and lay down and take whatever would come to be your end. You couldn't fight, you couldn't hurt anyone. It was all wrong, anyway. Even if you could, you didn't stand a chance. She must have known that, though.

You'd always said that when you were younger, since the games were established almost in myth, and every year older kids would disappear to the Capitol and never return.

"I'd take one of them guns the 'keepers got, and I'd win in a minute!" Lennox said, holding a broken stick to his shoulder like a weapon, squinting as he pretended to look down the sights.

You eyed him with suspicion, remembering what ma always said. "Boys will be boys," But your baby brother always seemed so separate from that when it came to violence.

"No you wouldn't." You giggled, shaking your head as he turned the stick gun on you and little Lucy Gray.

"Yes I would! Bang, bang! The first victor of District Twelve! We'll have a party!"

Your parents, guiding you down the wooded path to the lake with the Covey kids in tow, didn't like this joke. "Len, don't point guns at anyone."

"It's just a stick, pa!" He groaned.

"Never point a weapon of any kind at anyone." Your father stuck to his point, grabbing the stick from your brother's grip. "It's never a joke. You wouldn't be laughing if they called your sisters name in a few years, so don't laugh now."

Your father was right, Lennox most certainly wasn't laughing now. Somewhere you hear a sob, and you know it's your ma. Peacekeepers block either of your sides so you can't run, and the march to the stage feels like it goes on forever. A tear falls down your cheek, but you don't wipe it away.

"Thank you." You nod to the peacekeepers when they come to a stop with you at the bottom of the steps, but you have to continue. You have to.

You never had much experience with crowds, not the way Lucy Gray and the Covey kids did. They could command a space, change the energy in any room at the drop of a dime. Finally you can spare a glance at your mother, who's clutching Tybalt close to her chest and crying into his fur. It's deathly quiet. With a brief scan of the crowd, you can see tears on Lennox's cheeks that match your own, but his face is stone cold. You look at Lucy Gray, Barb Azure, and Maude Ivory. It was a jarring difference, seeing them from on stage. Lucy Gray nods at you, now holding her little cousin close to her side. Lifting one hand she taps the bottom of her chin.

"Head up, shoulders back. It takes confidence to hold a crowd, but even more to get your ass up on stage in the first place!"

Her voice from when you were just kids rings in your ears. The day you'd told her you could never do what they do, and she'd insisted they'd adopt you and you'd learn it like second nature soon enough.

You'd never quite gotten the knack for performing, though.

"May I?"

"Please," as the mayor nods and gestures to the mic, stepping out of the way to give you a minute.

You're not sure how to feel, what to say- but you couldn't disappoint Lucy Gray and the others, you couldn't let your brother go without hearing your voice one more time.

"Hello," You settle on, your voice calmer and smoother than you expected. "Thank you all, for being the village that raised us."

With a glance back at Jessup who just looks shocked, you hope he's okay with you speaking on his behalf.

"There's nowhere in the world with kinder people and kinder souls." You continue, wiping away a tear when it tickles your jaw. "My friends of noble touch; when I am forth, Bid me farewell, and smile."

"Don't be sad," you want to tell your loved ones, or everyone. This was the only way you knew how to say it, with so many eyes and cameras on you. Frozen were your own words, left to rely on the comfort of your beloved books. You know they understand, anyway.

The clock is ticking, and goodbyes cannot be forever. "I must go in, the fog is rising." You say in finality, and a fresh set of peacekeepers flank you again to guide you and Jessup back away from the stage, away from everything you'd ever known and loved.

This would be the beginning of your final act.

You couldn't bring yourself to look back, and you wished that you had when you're corralled into the dark and cold train car. For a while, you and Jessup travel in silence- the train wheels rattling beneath you as it drew you further and further from your family.

Even still, you sat side by side, shoulders bumping often with the sway of the car.

"I'm sorry." He whispers into the dark after what must have been hours, and the words sound more like a breath than a tangible statement.

Looking over at him in the dark your eyes have adjusted to, you give him a small smile. "Don't be." You whisper back, shaking your head. "The way I see it, I'm lucky today."

Jessup cocks his head to the side slightly. "How do you figure that?"

"It could have been my brother, or any of my sisters." You explain with a slight shrug, and though he knows you aren't related to the Covey, he knows what you meant.

"I guess..." He agrees hesitantly, scrubbing his hand at the back of his neck. "I mean, I wouldn't want it to be my siblings either, but that doesn't mean our cards are fair. It shouldn't have been any of us."

"It shouldn't be anyone." You nod. "But there's some... peace, I suppose, to be found in going off today knowing that all those kids are safe another year, at least. They all get one more birthday, one more Christmas... feels kind of worth it. Like we've done good, by giving ours up."

"Let's just get this over with." He grumbles as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, as gentle in touch as you knew he was in soul. Even yet to meet the other tributes, you hope that Jessup makes it home to his family.

You hear shouting as you blink your eyes open, head resting against Jessup's warm shoulder in the previously droning train car. You must be stopping. Sure enough, the train jerks as it stops and you're rocked onto your side, even sitting down. A rude awakening, to be in the Capitol.

"Everybody out!" A voice bellows, followed by banging on the outside of the doors. You're shivering as you stand, brushing off the back of your dress as Jessup holds your arm to steady you. It had been a long journey, and a while since you'd stood up to stretch your legs. You tried to sleep most of the journey, to eliminate the possibility of overthinking as much as possible. You didn't want to cry anymore- it wouldn't change the past, and you wouldn't want to change it anyway. Bid me farewell, and smile. You think to yourself as the doors slide open, and Jessup hops out first before peacekeepers would get the chance to jump in and drag the two of you out by your collars.

He extends his hands out to you to lift you out, but with that smile you shake your head and sit down on the edge of the train car before making the small jump down to the paved ground of the station. Patting Jessup's shoulder you quietly thank him, looking around and taking in your new surroundings. It didn't look too terribly different from the station at home, which surprised you. The Capitol, in all its superiority, was a myth at best back home. No one knew what to expect, really, no one ever returned to tell the tale. In your own mind, it would have looked more like a Shakespeare play- the opulence and royalty of castle walls, but so far, all you could see is concrete and military uniforms.

Except for the flash of red that appears before you in an instant, attached to the body of a boy. Blonde hair that's curly like Len's when he hasn't cut it, kind blue eyes, a determined step, and a white rose extended in your direction.

"Hello." He says, clearing his throat. You smile wider.

"Hi there."

For the rose, though its petals be torn asunder, still smiles on.

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