#empty arena edit

[daytrippergilmour]

Pigs On The Wing 2 empty arena edit

[w3r3alljust-c0mm0np30pl3]

I thought I'd share this masterpiece with all of you. Ik I’m the best arent I?

[yeonjnz]

“___ but with reverb” back in my day we called them empty arena edits

[houserautha]

These Destined Ends

Part 7

Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: depictions of killing/death, a blood oath, oral sex f receiving, fingering, edging, dirty talk, p in v, no protection, breeding/pregnancy kink, creampie kind of

A/N: I hear wedding bells🎉 This took me a hot second to write up and edit, but it's also a little bit longer than I usually post. I hope you enjoy💕

Sleep evades you. The day of your wedding slips in uninvited, a wash of sunlight to chase away the shadows from your room. The bed is empty. Feyd-Rautha hasn’t returned or, at least, hasn’t visited you since.

You convince yourself that you don’t care.

But still your thoughts stray traitorously to him — where he is, what he’s doing, what he’s thinking and if it’s of you.

You stare out at the Grand Arena. It’s more or less attached to the Harkonnen fortress and, to your understanding, typically reserved for political rallies. It’s the only place large enough to host a wedding where the entire planet is invited, though, plus the added benefits of its close proximity.

A platform has been erected and already citizens are filing into their stadium-style seats despite the early hour. They will wait all day to sit front row at the marriage between House Atreides and House Harkonnen. A historic event, you realize with detached clarity. To be remembered for generations to come.

This does nothing to quell your roiling stomach.

You turn at the sound of your bedroom doors opening, hope lifting stupidly in your chest. Because it is not Feyd-Rautha who enters, but Lady Jessica.

She looks more radiant than ever, though you suspect this partially has to do with the time apart that you’ve spent.

“Mother?”

Perhaps your lack of rest has warped your vision.

Jessica smiles softly, confirming both your deepest fear and most shameful want. “Daughter.”

For the first time in your life, you run to her. She embraces you, cradling your face into her neck. She smells like home and the memory of Caladan has you blinking back tears. “Why are you here?”

“Did you really think we would miss your wedding?” Jessica brushes your hair back. “They are treating you well? You haven’t responded to any of our correspondences.”

“They are treating me well,” you tell her. You can’t help but think of Feyd-Rautha’s lips on your skin, between your legs, but quickly dismiss it. “And I haven’t received any correspondences.”

“Mm, as I suspected. Your father thought that you might be too busy to write but I knew better.”

“He’s here, too?”

“Of course.” Your mother presses something cold and metallic into your palm, curls your fingers around it. “I wanted to give you this.”

You frown. After closer inspection, you realize that it’s a necklace. Simple, elegant, with a thin silver chain and delicate pendant. “What is this?”

“I wore it when I first met your father. Although we are not married, our relationship has obviously grown past that of an arranged partnership. I can only hope you find similar happiness.” She pauses then, examining you. “I know you are aware that your birth was…orchestrated. But that does not change our love for you. You are our greatest treasure, Y/N.”

Your mood falters, slipping from between your fingers and shattering on the ground like glass. “This is a fertility necklace.”

“Yes,” Jessica says, dipping her chin.

You have the overwhelming sense to grind the necklace under your heel. The tears in your eyes now belong there for an entirely different reason.

“I thought you came here today to support me but instead you’re just carrying out your Bene Gesserit schemes,” you hiss. A dry laugh rattles in your throat. “I’m such a fool! You don’t care for me. You only care about what I can provide. My whole life, everything has been for them. Everything.”

Jessica’s jaw clenches. “That’s not true.”

Aggravated, you spin on her, teeth bared. “Then tell me you came here today of your volition.”

Jessica holds your gaze but does not reply.

“I knew it,” you all but snarl at her.

“I thought these past few months would’ve opened your eyes to your potential, the importance of your duty,” Jessica snarls back, matching your viciousness. “But still you are blind to the truth. You blatantly refuse to accept a plan that has been in effect for centuries. Ten thousand years of deliberate planning and you act as if you are here as punishment. You are living proof of the Bene Gesserit’s power, Y/N.”

Chest heaving, you shutter your raging emotions. “Leave me.”

“That’s no way to speak to your mother.”

“I speak to you not as a daughter,” you retort, “but as the na-Baroness of House Harkonnen. And seeing that you are nothing but a concubine to the Duke, I demand that you leave.”

You know that with The Voice, Jessica could force you to bend to her will, to do any inexplicable amount of things. But she does not. She stands there, wavering, before striding back from which she came from without another word.

You hide the fertility necklace in the pot of a synthetic plant, and no one is the wiser when they come to prepare you. For the servants this is a joyous occasion and you do not want to dampen their enthusiasm. You mask your growing unease, laughing and joking with the girls as they recreate you into the image of na-Baroness.

“You look stunning,” Asha tells you privately. There’s quite some time before the ceremony starts, and she’s pulled you into a quiet corner of the room. “The na-Baron isn’t going to know what to do with himself.”

Oh, you very much doubt that. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.

Your wedding dress is a subtle combination of both Atreides and Harkonnen culture, a blend of elegance and functionality.

The dress itself is made from a lightweight, flexible material that mimics the look of metallic plates. Featuring overlapping panels that creates a segmented, scale-like effect, the bodice gives the illusion of Harkonnen armor. But the skirt, full and flowing, is entirely Atreides — layers of fabric cascading to the floor. Small, metallic accents line the hem that shimmer with your every step.

And, completing the look, a headpiece that forms a sort of M over your forehead and down your cheeks, adorn with jewels.

You bite down on the inside of your cheek. “Have you seen him today? The na-Baron.”

“No, I haven’t. Why?”

“No reason.”

Asha’s mouth quirks teasingly. “Are you nervous?”

“No,” you say, too quickly, “well, yes. But not because of him, because of the ceremony. This will be my first time in front of Giedi Prime.”

“They will adore you,” Asha says. She waves a hand flippantly. “And if not, then your husband will have their heads.”

You grin. “I suppose that’s comforting.”

“Of course it is.” She squeezes your hand.

Your moment with Asha passes as you’re both pulled back into the revelries — spice-laden champagne, food that looks suspiciously like harvested organs, and the pounding, ear-splitting music that’s popular among the Harkonnens. By the time you’re called for the ceremony, your mood has lifted significantly, almost enough to make you forget that you’re the reason for celebration. It’s a sobering reminder.

Your heart threatens to burst from your chest. From inside the walls of the fortress, the roar of the crowd crests and falls like a tidal wave sent to sweep you away. The corridor is alive with mumbled conversation. A procession will precede you to the altar — noblemen and the likes, your parents, who you avoid — along with your betrothed, who is nowhere in sight. The gathered members of your bridal party shift and part, panic seizing you with white-knuckled fingers as the Baron maneuvers toward you.

He greets you with a saying repeated to you many times that day, one that after several iterations you’ve come to understand means, “May your death be swift in battle”.

How it relates to marriage, you are too nervous to inquire about.

“What a wonderful day,” he muses in a rasping lilt. “It would be a pity for someone to ruin it.”

“Indeed,” you reply, eyes narrowing.

“You understand the importance of the ceremony, don’t you?” You don’t respond, sensing that he will tell you nevertheless. “This is just one more step for Feyd-Rautha toward taking my place as Baron. How the ceremony goes will influence his standing with his people.”

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. Of course this was just another political move. What did he think you would do, riot in the middle of the ceremony? You retort, “I understand.”

“Welcome to the family, Y/N.”

The chill that brushes down your spine, seeping into your bones, is deterred by the sudden clash of a gong. War drums erupt in tumultuous exalt. The very sound of them resonates deep within you, invoking a primal response of adrenaline, as if your body is preparing you for battle.

Which, you suppose is fitting.

And who else to be summoned by the promise of war then Feyd-Rautha.

He enters the room as he always does, commanding the attention of everyone in it. The effect is only amplified today, though, in his polished ceremonial armor and resolute intensity, a heady combination of brutality and valiancy.

Gazing at him us purifying fire, searing you from the inside out, and you take your time charting the unholy beauty of his face, gazing back at you with terrifying reverence.

In that moment, you possess no past or future — there is only him. An eternal now.

And then he steps past you and into the black sun, exultant, thrusting the knife above his head.

A championing cheer follows, impossibly louder than the thunder of the drums. Feyd-Rautha lingers and something in your chest expands at the sight of him dwelling in their approval, their admiration, somehow transcendent of any humanity he manages to have.

He truly is a god.

From your secretive position, you peer at him as he strides down the aisle to the platform where the officiant is waiting for him. At the top of the stairs, he turns and faces his people. In an act that surprises you, everyone who isn’t already on their feet rises, and in sync pound their fists to their chests. One two three.

Their utter devotion to him is staggering.

Feyd-Rautha raises his chin, simultaneously moved and expectant of this. He then takes his place at the altar.

Which means it’s your turn.

You loathe having to follow such a devastating display of power and love. There’s no telling how Giedi Prime will react to you, after all, considering that you are technically the enemy. Asha’s words come to you, emboldening you, and you lift your gaze. You will not falter.

A shushed quiet falls over the arena as you stride out, then enormous applause. You can only imagine what you look like to them, your people, but the only one who matters looks upon you with such unwavering devoutness that it nearly brings you to your knees. As you climb the steps to the altar, Feyd-Rautha’s hands clench into fists, a gesture you interpret as a sign of restraint.

Oh, if only he could touch you with those hands.

The officiant, a representative of the Imperium, begins to recite the traditional Harkonnen wedding script. A translator repeats the words to you, but you let the harsh language wash over you as you focus instead on the row of guests at the base of the altar. Your parents — looking fiercely protective, Leto smiling somewhat reluctantly; Jessica maintaining her cool demeanor — the Baron, emotionless, and beside him Rabban.

Did he wish it was him on the stage?

He catches you staring and flashes you a sickening smile. You look pointedly away, a fist forming in your stomach.

The beginning of the ceremony is tediously long and drenched in tradition, most of which you don’t understand even with the translator’s help. Marriage is not generally a romantic affair for Harkonnens, and the proof can be found in their strangely clinical rites. Again it’s impressed upon you that you are preparing for battle, one in which you would reside besides the most fearsome of its participants.

A pause on the officiant’s part draws you back to the present. You know what comes next, and the thought repulses you — Harkonnens of the Imperial House do not get married with the weight of enemies on their shoulders, pursuing a clean slate of sorts. You watch as a row of prisoners are led before the altar, hooded and bound and forced to their knees by a Harkonnen guard. You shiver despite the insurmountable heat.

You are familiar with war, with combat, the knife-thin edge upon which each fight balances. Life or death. But you can hardly stomach the idea of executing a helpless opponent, even if they are an enemy of your House.

Your throat thickens as Feyd-Rautha is bestowed a ceremonial blade.

Each hood of the prisoner is removed except for one, a man at the end who wavers to stay upright. Feyd-Rautha ignores this man, starting at the opposite end. His grin is apparent as he slashes through the throats of the prisoners, the blade his brush and the bodies his canvas, painting them both with ink-colored blood.

When Feyd-Rautha makes it to the still-hooded man, he pauses, shoulders heaving with the exertion of his wicked precision. Rivulets of blood stream down his armor. He says something unintelligible to the man, then removes his hood.

Your blood runs cold as you recognize him.

Ze’ev.

Now that you know who it is, you inspect him closer. There’s hardly any traces of the man you briefly knew. He is emaciated, bones lining his scarred flesh, clearly beaten within an inch of his life. After your encounter with Feyd-Rautha, you know that Harkonnens heal quickly, and the scars on his body indicate to you that he had been torn open again and again.

Feyd-Rautha turns. When he approaches you, his face is full of such naked adoration that it causes you to take a step back. He offers you the bloodied blade.

“For you,” he rasps.

You whisper fiercely, “What are you doing?”

“He is a gift, for you. On the day of our wedding.”

Every fiber of your being is screaming at you to refuse him. But to do so would be to decline your husband, shame him in front of his people — bile rises in your throat as you accept the blade, your fingers wrapping around the handle.

You breeze past him, refusing to meet his eye.

Ze’ev trembles as you advance on him. Though from his delicate condition or fear, you can’t be sure. His lips form a sneer. “You won’t do it.”

“It’s nice to see you, too,” you say dryly. “I thought you were dead.”

“I should be. Your husband certainly brought me to the brink of it and back, telling me that he was saving me. For you.” Ze’ev spits at your feet then, a dark and bloody glob.

On Arrakis, this would’ve been a sign of respect.

But this wasn’t Arrakis.

You raise your arm in an upward swing, then across your body with exuberance, his blood hissing as it splatters the ground. Splatters you.

The crowd applauds your demonstration, and the sound of their approval echoes in your ears as you take the stage once more, the prisoners’ bodies carted away quickly. You feel numb. Bewildered.

But also deliciously righteous.

You face the man who put you in this position, who put the blade in your hand as a gift without considering the consequences. And he smiles because he knows — he knows that you are delighted, that the freckles of drying blood elicit an indisputable, terrifying delirium in you.

He coaxed this from you, what was better left in the dark.

And you don’t know if you should thank him.

The officiant switches to the common tongue. “The time has come to bind these lives together in the sight of their people. As na-Baron and na-Baroness, they pledge their loyalty and protection to one another, their flesh and blood now shared in duty and alliance.”

A second blade is brought out on a satin cushion.

“na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, do you swear to protect and defend na-Baroness Y/N, to uphold her honor and safeguard her well-being, as your duty demands?”

“I swear.”

“na-Baroness Y/N, do you swear to protect and defend na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, to uphold his honor and safeguard his well-being, as your duty demands?”

You dip your chin. “I swear.”

“Then, as symbol of your shared duty and alliance, I ask you to exchange your blood.”

Feyd-Rautha takes the blade and, with surprising gentleness, turns your palm over and kisses it before gliding the tip of the blade over it. Your blood wells, bright red.

You take his own hand — large, scarred and calloused — and repeat the action.

Before he can heal, the officiant wraps a white cloth around your now joined hands, red blood mingling with black.

“You are my body, an extension of myself,” Feyd-Rautha rasps.

You tense. This isn’t part of the ceremony.

Feyd-Rautha, one hand still clasped in yours, uses the other to beat his chest. One two three. You watch as the crowd responds in kind: the same gesture, reverberating throughout Giedi Prime.

It’s incredibly intoxicating, to be the focus of such a powerful gesture. You let it wash over your skin and infiltrate your bloodstream, alter something inside you, rearranging your very cells into what it takes to be a fearless ruler. You would do anything to garner such a response again.

The officiant waits until the last thump can be heard before he declares, “May your bond be as unbreakable as the strongest fortress. United by duty and alliance, I present to you — the na-Baron and na-Baroness!”

Having spent so much time dreading the ceremony, you never stopped to think about what would happen after it. Currently you sit atop the dais in the throne room, accepting an endless line of Harkonnens who want to congratulate you on your feat of an arranged marriage. Your palm that the blade cut stings with every hand you shake.

After what seems like a small eternity, it’s time for you to join the nobles at the reception. Memories of the last time you sat at the table trickle in through your exhaustion — which you promptly shove away.

The feast passes in a blur. You don’t have the appetite for any of it, but hopefully do a convincing job of moving your food around on your plate.

And then: it’s time for your first dance.

Reluctantly you let Feyd-Rautha sweep you into the center of the room, the usual security you feel in his presence succumbing to your own fears. He holds you tight against him. His tone is clipped, political, plush lips on the shell of your ear, “You had never killed before.”

Ah, your first words as husband and wife.

“No I had never killed before,” you snap at him. “Not everyone goes around just slaughtering whoever they feel like.”

Feyd-Rautha is a surprisingly agile dancer, though you figure that it isn’t all that removed from fighting. “I didn’t intend to upset you.”

“Perhaps, but you did.” Your throat thickens. “What I did is irreversible.”

“You told me you wanted him to pay for what he did.”

“I-I did. I just didn’t think —”

“If you let someone who crosses you live, then others will try,” Feyd-Rautha says, incensed. “You must strangle the serpent while it’s a hatchling, for once it grows, it will seek you out while you lay in your bed and slip around your neck.”

You can’t suppress your shudder. What a lovely metaphor. Apparently Giedi Prime has loads of fun phrases alluding to death.

“You could’ve told me,” you mutter in lieu of a response.

“It was a gift.”

You bite down on the inside of your cheek. Was that all it was? Another part of your game?

“Most people give jewelry as gifts,” you retort.

Feyd-Rautha’s lips twitch. “I am not most people.”

“I know.” To prove your point, you coast your fingers over his side where the dagger went in.

He pulls you tighter against him. “I would have you right here in front of everyone if you’d let me.”

You can’t help but smirk. “I know.”

He opens his mouth to continue but he’s interrupted — by Rabban, nonetheless. “na-Baron, I request a dance with my sister in-law.”

Feyd-Rautha’s grip on you tightens. “No.”

“Yes,” you say, loosening his fingers from around your waist. “It won’t be long.”

Feyd-Rautha stares after you unhappily as his brother leads you away. Other couples have now taken to the floor in an elaborate dance that you don’t know. It doesn’t matter anyway, seeing that Rabban just drags you after him for each step.

“I suppose congratulations are in order,” he says finally.

“You suppose?”

“If it was up to me, Feyd-Rautha would be the one extending his congratulations.” Rabban’s small, dark eyes examine you. “Though the Bene Gesserits have chosen well for a Harkonnen bride. You are a formidable force.”

“Thank you,” you reply, sensing more.

“There are…things…in order that will happen because you will not submit to me,” Rabban says.

Your jaw sets. “Like what?”

“You’ve made your choice.” There’s a twinge of pity in his voice. Not for him. For you? “I thought I should forewarn you.”

“Rabban, what are you talking about? You never said anything about —”

“The day of the Crucible. I told you my wishes and you denied me them.”

“You said nothing that would warrant a warning. I thought you just envious of your brother for obtaining something else that you can’t have.”

“Envious? No. More deserving? Perhaps.”

Behind Rabban, a soldier materializes from the crowd. Sardaukar. You stiffen — it hadn’t come to your attention that anyone from the Imperium had attended your wedding.

“Excuse my interruption,” the soldier says. “I wanted to congratulate you on your union on behalf of the Emperor. He extends his deepest apologies that he isn’t t able to be here himself.”

You nod curtly.

The soldier’s gaze slides to Rabban. “May I have a word with you?”

Begrudgingly, Rabban releases you with a final look. You watch his retreating form, mind reeling with confusion. What did the Sardaukar want with Rabban? And why did the soldier look so familiar to you? Idly, you wonder if the violent nature of the Sardaukar soldiers remind you of the Harkonnens.

No, that isn’t it. That soldier had been here before, at the dinner a few weeks before. He had been the one to call the Baron away, you recall. But he had been dressed as a Harkonnen soldier then, not a soldier of the Imperial army.

The revelation creeps over you uneasily.

Before you can give it much thought, however, someone whisks you away into the next dance. A protest forms on your tongue before you realize it’s Asha — cheeks pink and beaming at you.

“Asha!” You can’t help but laugh, partly out of relief. “I thought you were another terrible admirer.”

“I am an admirer,” she says, “though I would hardly consider myself terrible.”

“Terrible for taking so long to get to me.”

“My apologies, but the na-Baroness is in high demand.” You settle into a comfortable rhythm as the music plays and Asha leads you in the unfamiliar dance. After some time, she grows uncharacteristically serious. “I know your feelings for the na-Baron are…complicated…but your ceremony was beautiful.”

You raise a brow. “Really?”

“The way he saluted you…” Asha trails off, waving her hand as if to ward off tears. This reaction spurns your curiosity.

Trying not to sound too interested, you ask, “What does it even mean?”

A slightly dreamy expression crosses Asha’s face. “Generally it’s reserved for military generals as a sign of respect, something that soldiers do to show their loyalty.”

“So when he did it to me…?”

“He was signaling that he sees you as someone superior to himself, someone to respect. That he is your willing soldier.” Asha grins. “Everyone has been talking about it.”

“Oh.” It’s all you can think to say. “Should I have done it back?”

Asha shakes her head. “Definitely not. It would’ve been an insult to him. His judgement. You did the right thing.”

You’re not sure what the right thing was, but you let the subject go. It lingers in your mind, however, to the point that you over-analyze the moment during the ceremony, replaying Feyd-Rautha’s expression as he saluted you.

You want to confront him about it, but apparently your first dance is all you will see of your new husband on the eve of your wedding. Even trying to catch his eye is impossible as you are both continuously pulled in different directions.

“Is this a bad time?”

At first you bristle, afraid that you’ve been caught sneaking away from the festivities. You have no idea of the time but it has to be well into the morning now, and you just wanted a moment to collect your thoughts. The spot you’ve chosen in a darken alcove gave you a perfect vantage point of Feyd-Rautha, infuriatingly charming as he speaks to a pair of nobles out of earshot.

You tear your gaze from him.

“Father!” You run into the arms of Leto, Duke of Arrakis, who ambles down the hall to you. It’s reflective of your greeting with Jessica this morning, but he inspires only warmth and fond memories. The brush of his beard across your cheek fills you with longing. “Oh, how I’ve missed you.”

“I apologize for not going this morning to visit you. Your mother insisted she go alone.” A frown tugs on his handsome features but disappears as quick as it appeared. “You look breathtaking.”

“Thank you,” you sigh. It’s as if you are a child again, the light of your father’s attention basking you in a sunny glow.

“I…” Leto pauses, deliberates. Your father is usually not someone to be lost for words. “I wish I had done something to prevent this.”

You touch his arm. “It’s not your fault.”

“I blame myself, it’s true. What kind of father willingly hands his daughter over to that…monster?”

“You had no choice. Neither of us did.”

“Listen, Y/N, your mother regrets how your conversation went this morning. She has only wanted the best for you,” he adds softly.

His words prick at you, and suddenly the warmth of his light diminishes. “We both know that’s not true.”

“Her intentions can be…muddled by her Bene Gesserit training. But that doesn’t change the love she feels for you.”

“Her love.” You chuckle bitterly. “All that she loves is what others can do to forward the Bene Gesserit agenda. You. Me. Don’t you realize?”

Leto’s expression softens. “Just come with me. She’s waiting for us. She wants to try again.”

Anger seizes you with white-knuckles and stifling heat, blooming in your chest. “I’ve given her too many opportunities to make things right. You just told me that you wish you could’ve prevented this. She could’ve prevented this. I do not wish to speak another word to someone who has orchestrated my entire life since conception.”

Perhaps you can blame the time that you’ve spent apart, the exhaustive events the day has presented you, but there is a side to Leto that you have forgotten — his frightening, unwavering loyalty to Jessica. A loyalty that not even you, his daughter, can temper.

His voice is that of a diplomat, detached and commanding as he says, “You will not speak of your mother in such a way.”

You’re not sure what you were expecting, but jumping to the defense of your mother cuts you deeper than any knife can. You swallow your disappointment.

“You’re fooled by her just like everyone else.”

Leto’s mouth tightens into an angry slash. “You are not the daughter I remember.”

“No.” You tilt your chin. “She is gone.”

“Then I have no business with you.”

Your tongue rolls in your cheek, over your teeth, carefully selecting your next words. “So be it. I won’t inconvenience you with my company.”

You can’t stand to witness his expression, or let him see the grimace of pain that graces yours, so you turn from him before either happens. You go, not back towards the party, but away — you can’t be here any longer. It feels as if your bones are trying to flee from your skeleton, your skin suddenly stretched too tightly.

Truthfully you have no destination in mind but your feet carry you to the one place that you know will guarantee silence.

Feyd-Rautha’s strategy room.

In the dark your fingers find the seam of the door and you ease it open, slinking inside. For the first time since this morning, you’re alone, and there’s no auditory assault of voices or music.

Back against the wall, you slide down to the ground and pull your knees to your chest. You will tears to your eyes but there are none to summon, lost to the icy numbness claiming you. Any other feeling is cast adrift.

Could it have only been three months ago that you were on Arrakis, sparring with Gurney?

You no longer recognize yourself.

The closest identifying factor is when the door open and Feyd-Rautha appears. There’s a resemblance there, a call of darkness in him that something within you answers. Your mouth twists in distaste. How did he find you?

“Go away.”

“No.”

“I don’t want you here.”

“I don’t care. This is my strategy room, and I can come and go as I please.” Cast in shadows, you can barely make out his face, but the scorch of his gaze is telling of his scrutiny. “Get up off the floor.”

“No.”

“Get up or I’ll make you.”

You weigh his words. Then you reluctantly rise to your feet, unable to look at him.

“This…attitude is unbecoming of you.”

“You’re a prick,” you fire back.

“A na-Baroness, brooding alone — and on the floor, nonetheless, like a common stray. I won’t tolerate this kind of behavior.”

“Or what?”

A muscle feathers in his jaw. “I will have to remind you who you are.”

Heat flickers in your belly, a weak flame. “And what is that? A whore, a womb? I am nothing but what others have made me to be.”

Feyd-Rautha laughs.

He actually laughs.

The sound of which is so unnatural, so unnerving, that your muscles tense like they’re anticipating a fight. You flush with shame — anger — and raise your hand to strike him but Feyd-Rautha catches your wrist. His words lilt with ill-timed amusement.

“Surely you don’t believe that.”

You struggle to wrest yourself from his grasp, but the effort is futile. “Let go of me.”

“No. Never.”

Feyd-Rautha’s lips crash into yours. He steers your back to the wall, colliding with your spine. He swallows your cry of pain with his mouth, slanting it over yours, hands bracketing either side of your face. His fingers delve into your hair, pads of his thumbs pressing against your cheeks. The weak flame inside you ignites into a raging inferno.

He kisses you with a fierce, concentrated energy, as if his sole purpose is to bruise your mouth with his own. His tongue flickers across your bottom lip, behind your teeth. You moan at the same time Feyd-Rautha chooses to coast his hands down your sides and your head lolls back, neck bared.

He grabs onto you as his mouth flies to your exposed throat, hands greedily clutching at your waist. Feyd-Rautha presses a series of kisses that turn swiftly into nibbles, bites. He sucks and licks at your neck, no doubt creating a necklace of love marks, eagerly staking his claim on the sensitive skin. Each bite and lick winds you closer and closer to an orgasm, the idea of his lips marking you wickedly delightful.

Feyd-Rautha moves his hands to your ass, to the underside of your thighs, and hikes you up. Without thinking, you lock your legs around him. The action brings his hardened length nudging against your center and you whimper, grinding into him, desperate for friction.

“I want you so fucking bad,” you pant. “Please.”

He hums against your neck. “What did you say you were — a whore?” His hips roll with yours, the memory of him inside you inciting a moan from your lips. “The na-Baron doesn’t bother fucking whores.”

“Please,” you say again.

In response, Feyd-Rautha bites down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder. You wince even as pleasure floods over you. “Beg all you want but I won’t fuck a whore.”

You fail to conjure a response as he pins you to the wall with his hips, your arms thrown around his neck, and effectively loosens his hands in order to hoist your dress up. Your flesh pimples as it’s exposed to the cool air of the strategy room.

Feyd-Rautha’s hands skim over you, brush over your center. You whimper, “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to tell me who you are,” he rasps.

Feyd-Rautha teases your clit through your panties, drawing lazy circles with his fingers. You buck your hips in an effort to gain reprieve but he denies you this.

Your voice pitches nearly into a whine. “I-I don’t know.”

And you don’t — not after the sequence of your day, not with Feyd-Rautha unraveling you with his his hands and his mouth. You are infinitesimal, insignificant, clay waiting to be shaped in his capable touch.

“Then I will remind you,” Feyd-Rautha says. He pushes your panties to the side, ghosting his digits over your entrance so that you writhe in desperation. “You are my wife, the na-Baroness of the House Harkonnen. You will raze cities to the ground and bring men to their knees. I will fuck you often and fill you with my seed, keep you pregnant so that you bear my children. You are not nothing, you are magnificent.”

His words are punctuated by his short, breathy pants, fingers pressing to your cunt without giving you any of the pleasure that you seek.

“Now — tell me who you are.”

“I-I am the na-Baroness. I am your wife.”

A wail looses from you as Feyd-Rautha plunges his fingers inside you, relieved from your aching by his careful ministrations. Each pump of his hand brings his palm to your sex, quick and authoritative. A hand that had killed six men today, saluted you, bled with you, and the severity of the situation has your walls clenching around him — he is Feyd-Rautha, and he is fucking you with his fingers, littering your body with bites and kisses and mumbled, appreciative praises.

It’s not surprising that this drives you to orgasm with record speed, to alleviating the pressure building between your legs —

Feyd-Rautha removes his fingers, depriving you of your release. You almost howl in frustration.

“Close,” he says. “But I’m not convinced.”

“No, please —”

“You can cum once you’ve convinced me that you remember who you are. Until then — your pleasure will be withheld.”

Again, he punishes you with his fingers, splitting you open as he inserts them. Your back bows.

“Now,” he pants, “tell. Me. Again.”

“I am the na-Baroness. I am your wife,” you repeat, mustering as much conviction as you can. You would tell him anything if it meant cumming on his fingers.

Harder, faster, wrist snapping: “And?”

“And…I am magnificent.”

Feyd-Rautha’s satisfaction is evident even in the dark, judging only by the pulse of his fingers, the breathy laugh fanning into your neck. He removes his fingers again, though, to your chagrin, trading positions for one that allows him to see your face. “Oh, you are,” he purrs. “And I bet you taste even better.”

You hitch your legs around his shoulders at his prompting. Feyd-Rautha sinking to his knees while applying enough weight to keep you trapped against the wall. You suppress another whimper. Your thighs are nearly flush with your chest as Feyd-Rautha dips his head to greet your cunt, driving you higher up the wall and forcing you to grab onto his armor for support.

You can’t see him with the skirt of your dress in the way, but you feel his mouth hovering your entrance.

Feyd-Rautha presses a kiss to you. He flicks his tongue over your clit, then licks a stripe up your center back to it, lapping eagerly between your thighs. His mouth works in tandem with his tongue, his teeth, treating you to the same nipping and sucking that he administered to your neck. Your hips buck to meet his every stroke.

And then, there it is again, your orgasm fighting for completion, raking claws of molten lava through your belly, your pelvis.

From between your legs, Feyd-Rautha rasps, “Convince me and I’ll let you cum.”

You swallow down a cry of protest. If you don’t get your release, you might actually implode. You do your best to summon his words from before, “I am the na-Baroness. I am your wife. And I am magnificent.”

“And how will I fuck you?”

Your teeth grind as you recall, “Often.”

“Why?”

“To-To keep me pregnant,” you stammer out. You rarely allow yourself to imagine your body in such a state, afraid of what it will invoke, but you do now: belly swollen with Feyd-Rautha’s child, breasts full, a physical manifestation of the vigorous fucking he regularly bestows.

And just like that, like the snapping of a rubberband, he returns his mouth to your cunt and laps at you until you finally, finally, reach your orgasm. Feyd-Rautha holds you steady as the prolonged release cleaves you in half, shuddering against his mouth, your vision swimming with stars. Tears wet your cheeks with your relief.

You sag into him, and he effortlessly lifts you back to your feet, still trapping you to the wall, one hand lazily skimming your hip.

“Do not, ever again, think so lowly of yourself. Do you understand?”

Your head bobbles stupidly. “I understand.”

“Good.” He brushes hair back from your face, runs his finger along the scattering of angry welts he’s left on your neck. “Now, my jewel, how do you want me to fuck you?”

You commit him to memory, this renegade angel, a contrast of darkness and your own personal deliverance. “I’ll let you choose.”

Without missing a beat, Feyd-Rautha carries you to the strategy table and lays you flat on your back, maneuvering to grab your ankles, one in each hand and spreading you wide. He takes his straining cock from his pants and strokes it as he admires you. “Mm, my beautiful wife, so eager for me to fuck her.”

He traces your entrance with his fingers, then notches his cock there, sliding the tip of it between your slick folds. You ache to take him but with your ankles in his grip, he keeps you firmly in place. Like a silly, wanton thing, you try desperately to grind against him as he drags himself, up and down, teasing you.

“Please, Feyd,” you beg, “please fuck me.”

“Say it again.”

“Fuck me, Feyd. Please.”

The ridges and crests of the strategy table bite into your back as he drives into you. The ecstasy of finally having him inside you is almost too much to bear — hips snapping, groans rumbling through his chest. He is inspired like this, immersed in the feel of your walls clamping down on his cock, pupils blown, plush lips parted with each panting breath.

If you only you could bottle up this moment, savor the way you both rise to meet the other like waves upon the shores of Caladan.

He pounds into you in a borderline frenzy, each near-violent thrust surging your orgasm higher.

Then Feyd-Rautha releases your ankles, your legs returning around his waist, and he captures your wrists instead, holding them over your head. The angle allows him to press himself to you, spearing you deeper, winding your desire tighter and tighter.

“My wife,” he rasps, “my jewel. Look at me.”

You meet his gaze. Feyd-Rautha smirks, pleased with himself, with you, and thrusts into you with swift finality. Your orgasm peaks and suddenly you’re shuddering and convulsing beneath him, pleasure wrought from every fiber of your being.

Distantly, you feel your cunt draw out Feyd-Rautha’s own orgasm, hips rolling against you as he spills himself inside you. He collapses on top of you, both of you panting, greedily drinking in lungfuls of air. Ostensibly, he recovers first and peels himself from you, tucking his cock back into his pants.

He helps you to your feet and you thank him breathlessly, thighs quivering as you stand, the wrinkled skirt of your dress cascading back to the ground.

“I suppose no one will question whether or not we’ve consummated our marriage,” he says.

Your cheeks burn. “Does it matter?”

“It’s typical for someone to watch to confirm,” he tells you, lifting a shoulder. “I said that it would be obvious enough.”

You gasp and swat his chest. “You didn’t.”

“The alternative was some noble peeking in on our fucking. Would you have preferred that? I do know you like to watch.”

“I suppose I wouldn’t,” you admit.

“Precisely.”

Feyd-Rautha’s eyes flicker over your face, and you can only guess what he sees there — you’re coated in a thin sheen of sweat and, undoubtedly, love marks, hair tangled and headpiece askew.

You shy away from him. “Do we have to go back to the reception?”

“No,” he nearly snorts, affronted that you would even suggest such a thing. “I fully intend on taking you to my bed and fucking you until you’re a mewling, quivering mess.”

Your cunt, still full with his cum, dripping with it down your thighs, clenches in anticipation.

“Then what are we still doing here?”

Part 8

Taglist:

@moonsoulk @heartarianagran @torchbearerkyle @unicoreads @taleah @mamawiggers1980 @jovialeggsbailiffsoul @harkonnin @avidreader73 @unicorntrooper @beebeechaos @kamcrazy123 @wo-ming-bai @kpopnstarwars @m-indkiller @dacreshoney

[empty-movement]

Empty Movement's 2023 Revolutionary Girl Utena UPDATE

Fashionably late? As always. 2023 was a HUGE year for Empty Movement, so much so that to confess, we did a big fail in actually keeping up with sharing the stuff we did! OOPS. So finally, we proudly bring you: all the Revolutionary Girl Utena content we dropped in 2023. Essays, artbooks, CD information, you name it. Click below for the entire site update, or get it at the source, as always, at ohtori.nu.

In Analysis (Fan Essays): • seebee's essay The Power of Living an Embodying Narrative is about more than Utena, it's about the fandom--including us. We were both interviewed for this piece, and the result is an absolutely beautiful essay that has helped inform how we do Utena stuff going forward. Thank you so much for letting us be part of this! • seebee's VIDEO essay FILM CUTS BACK | transfeminism in utena absolutely blew our minds and it's so good we're listing it. Look at the title. Just go watch it, it rules. • Nicole Winchester's essay No Choice But To Become Witches: The Bishōjo-Demonic Phallic Mother Dichotomy in Revolutionary Girl Utena catches you up to speed on the academic discussion around what might best be described as the shoujo manga iteration of the Madonna-Whore complex. Then, naturally, it finds plenty to say about Utena. Great work that was well worth the coding!

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

In From the Mouths of Babes (Translated Meta/Creator Content): • Cross X Talk, A Round Table Discussion Commemorating the Second Musical Utena GOGAI FUCKIN' GOGAI. Nagumo and friends bring us the final untranslated part of the 2019 Black Rose Musical's program guide: the monster interview with Ikuhara and the director of the musicals, Yoshitani. INCREDIBLE content here that 100% lives up to the first musical's similar encounter! A must read!! • The Rose Apocalypse's Ei Takatori Interview The director of the mysterious 1999 musical (yes the machine gun one, and YES WE HAVE MORE INFORMATION ABOUT IT COMING) interviewed in The Rose Apocalypse book. This...is that. Thank you so much to iris hahn for translating, and I can't wait to bring you more of this mythology!!! • The Utena Dossier Animage Magazine's June 1997 supplemental, this 36-page Utena tome has ben translated by Nagumo with editing by Ayu Ohseki. Because so much of the content is in its visual presentation, I worked the translation into the original scans! Check it out! (PS. Yes that is an entirely different gallery on the emptymovement.com domain, no this won't stay there, yes it has been a weird couple years.) The Dossier includes two long interviews that are also worked into html pages for easy viewing! The Auspicious Joining of Manga and Anime: Saito and Hasegawa For Whom the Director Smiles: Ikuhara and Kitakubo

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

In Historia Arcana & The Bibliothèque (Untranslated Resources): • There are a lot of changes happening in this arena!!! How and where to place different materials has been a moving target, so I'll do my best! The sites don't quite reflect this yet, but Historia Arcana will be for cover to cover Utena media, including special magazine publications. Something Eternal's gallery, the Bibliothèque, will be for magazine articles, clippings, and other things. Major artbooks will likely be in both places, cross referenced. New books in Historia Arcana: • The Rose Spiral: Reflections on the Mythology of Utena While not strictly official, this is a fan published book of in depth analysis of Utena, circa 1998! Yep, cover to cover. • Revolution Dictionary (OST 1 First Press Bonus) Cross-referenced from Audiology, this is the bonus dictionary you only got if you grabbed it early! Cool! • Revolutionary Girl Utena Making of Visuals Book Art of UTENA I am mentioning this for completions sake and because I already uploaded it, but this is a cover to cover high resolution, uncleaned scan of the 1999 Art of Utena artbook. I am going to clean the scans, and ultimately be posting the official artbooks elsewhere. • Revolutionary Girl Utena Photobook: Rose Memories This special Animage bonus could be purchased for 700 yen, and back then, was probably a great way to keep the anime in your pocket! It's entirely shots from the TV series, though, so there's nothing specifically new. But I scan it all, baby. New books in the Bibliothèque: • Chiho Saito's 1999 Revolutionary Girl Utena Original Illustration Collection HI THIS IS A VERY BIG DEAL. Read more about why when you visit! TLDR? Here's some of the best artwork of Utena, rescanned and remastered by yours truly to be the best big big scans of big big beautiful Chiho Saito Art. This is a feast. I even made myself a calendar! (Note that the price is such that I don't make a profit on these, so if you're looking to donate, definitely go by other routes, haha.) You will find multiple ways to obtain the scans, and in more than one size. Either way you soak up the rays, enjoy 'em! New articles and clips in the Bibliothèque: • H! Rockin' on Japan Magazine Saito X Oikawa This fashion music magazine's July 1999 article has ALREADY BEEN TRANSLATED? Like, I am going to add the translation officially to the site of course, but holy hell Nagumo is amazing!! This article is actually the origin of a Saito art piece that uh, well. Now we know she went to a love hotel with movie Akio's VA. Cool! Anyway check it out! • Comickers Magazine, August 1997 This absolute monster find is an industry-focused magazine with this gorgeous spread and interview with Chiho Saito. It gets into how she does things. The making of Utena. All kinds of stuff. I'd LOVE to know more about this one!! • Comickers Magazine, June 1998 Again, an industry-focused publication, this time it's exploring the manga and the anime and how they compare. Again looks like a tasty meal!! • Volks Magazine, Spring 2022 YEP SCANS OF THE BOOK OF THE DOLLFIES. For a lot of us, this is at close as we get to these ludicrously gorgeous dolls. I included a few extra pages because they were just fuckin' cool and felt relevant. • Sega Saturn Magazine, December 1997 One of two grabs I got recently on Yahoo! Japan! This appears to be the first look announcement of the 1998 Utena video game! (Yes we have more on it, yes we will eventually post links.) • Sega Saturn Magazine, April 1998 This feature brings attention to the voice actors, who are all returning for the game! • Dengeki G's Magazine, January 1998 Another gaming focused magazine, with frankly a more adult edge, cheaply lets the readers know about Utena. These three game magazine moments are just a bizarre reminder of how we did things before the internet, LMAO

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

In Audiology (Music and CD Information): • Complete information about the STAR CHILD - Girls Character Song Best album! You also definitely can't grab the two new remix tracks there. • Did you know there was a first press bonus dictionary for the first OST? I DIDN'T UNTIL RECENTLY. Now I know all about it, and so can you. Check it out! Obviously, scans available, both here and in Historia Arcana. • I FINALLY acquired a complete set of the Utena CD singles!! Check out complete track lists, scans, and information for ALL FIVE Utena singles. Yes. Including the movie Akio guy's one.

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

In The Doujinshi Gallery: • Several dozen dounjinshi were uploaded earlier in the year, and can be found listed on the Site Update archive here.

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

That's all for now, folks! There's so so so much coming. I have the episode 18 and 20 (!!!!) storyboards to scan, as well as a fully translated scanlation of The Duelist Bible. We're planning to do something for Anthy's rare LEAP YEAR birthday coming up, probably a musical stream or something! Love!

[wandasfifthwife]

(3) locker room ✩‧₊˚ competing series

hockey coach!wanda x fem!ex figure skater reader

tw: SMUT MDNI, r has a v&breasts, top wanda, bottom r, service dom!wanda, r is a bit needy, wanda absolutely goes feral once given the green light, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), wanda uses the shower head on r, sort of public sex (locker room shower), cum kink if you squint

a/n: not proofread. THE SMUT IS HERE LMAO. I was a bit too excited to write and publish this, I’ll come back and edit later. Anyways enjoy this filth.

prev chap ✩ ══╡˚m.list˚╞══ ✩ next chap

It was all a performance. Every shy touch pushing the narrative, cultivating confident hand placements. The hand on your shoulder would find itself on your waist, pulling you towards her.

The first time she kissed you she was nervous, her hands holding you close but still at a distance. Every one since then has been pushing you down a dangerous path. They all made you want more, you wanted to fall over the edge with her.

The desire was growing each day. When she kissed you goodnight. When she placed a hand on your inner thigh. When she ran her eyes over your body. It made your legs weak.

Earlier in the day, just as the sun was rising she had been at your apartment. It was an easy Saturday morning, resting in each other with the tv in the background. Light touches almost hovering over each other.

You felt like you were floating, goosebumps lining your body as her fingers drew chills.

She paid you no mind, whether intentional or not she was stirring your emotions. Her eyes were focused on the screen, an occasional whispered compliment on whatever the house designing show had to showcase. It was infuriating almost. Her lips would sometimes touch your neck, a gentle touch here and there. She had strung you up and left you there when she had to leave for an appointment.

You laid where you once were, unsure of what to do until her contact showed up on your phone. She sounded out of breath as she asked you to come to the arena. You clambered into your car, almost speeding down the roads.

You didn’t give much of a hint as to where she was, last thing mention on the phone was that she was in the gym. The problem was that it was empty save for one man on the stair climber. You passed by without a care, feet wondering into where the ground turned into tiles.

There were a multitude of lockers aligning the wall, which were all off except for one. One had a small sign, the red light giving away that it was occupied as opposed to the surrounding green LEDs.

You called out her name, walking towards the showers and not thinking to check behind you. There were enclosed spaces, each separated by a wall. You walked to one, feeling bored so you pull at the level until the water came pouring down. It was in way better condition than you originally assumed.

Wet footprints sounded behind you, slight nerves picking up in fear it might be another woman besides the one you came looking for. They were eased when she came into view, a towel in her hand.

“You got here quick. I was going to try and shower before,” she emphasizes her words by lifting her towel up. Your eyes follow the movement and how it extends her muscles.

You feel your heart pick up, the feeling she had started before coming back to life. You point behind you, nonsense coming from you, “I don’t mind waiting, I could take a shower as well. My water bill is expensive.”

“Okay,” she says and begins to set her stuff at the one right beside the one you were standing at. You shouldn’t be surprised, but you had wished she would make a move. That she would hint at wanting to join you, maybe showing interest in you sexually.

You breathe deep and undress where you are, closing the curtain just before doing so. You reach a hand out to set your clothes on an outside bench. The water was hot, the smoke rising and collecting on the surrounding black tiles. It was much nicer than the shower you had at home and it genuinely surprised you.

She realized before you, calling out and saying she had soap if you needed. Her tone was teasing, asking if you were here to take a dry shower. You called out for her to hand it to you. The curtain made its clinking sound, causing your heart to fall out of your chest. You flinch, freezing as you come face to face with her. Her completely clothed body contrasting yours.

Her eyes flicker between your face and bare skin. No words escape her, face neutral as she hands you the soap and leaves with a jerk to the curtain.

It made your heart jump out of your chest when a second later you hear her curse. She brushes past the curtains again, descending towards you. It was two steps before your back collides with the shower wall.

A protest is taken from you when her lips collide with yours. She spreads your hands out beside you, intertwining them and holding them. There’s a forceful pressure in how you’re held between her body and the wall behind you. A heat builds within you and around the two of you as you drown in each other.

Her lips find the sensitive spot on your neck, pulling a moan from you, “can’t resist, I can’t wait anymore.”

She slides your arms to wrap around her neck, “I need to hear you say you want this. I’ll drop everything if you’re not ready.”

You smile and nod as you vocalize your consent. She’s lifting your left leg with a hand dragging under your thigh and propping it on her waist.

“At any time you need to stop or you want to slow down, tell me please, okay?”

You mumble your confirmation, hands fiddling with her wet hair. She places gentle kisses down your body, starting under your jaw and trailing down towards your inner thigh.

Her attention is completely focused, eyes glazed over already. A whine is pulled from you the second her tongue is licking across your heart. She presses it harder onto your clit, morning when she feels you tug at her hair.

You have a hand in her hair, another pressing against your mouth. A hand on your hip holds you open, barely putting in any effort whenever your hips twitch or try and close around her head.

“You’re so pretty,” she mumbles into you.

She slides the first finger in, a shameful whine coming out from behind your hand. The water falls behind you two, the heat and pressure below pressure you to breathe deep.

When she feels you’re ready, she begins to fit another finger in. She doesn’t miss how you shiver when she angles her fingers.

“Like that, sweet thing?”

A string of yeses fill the room, your tone breathy and sweet. She’s driving them in harder, directing them right at the spot that has your legs quivering.

Her tongue presses against your clit, building pleasure between your legs. You whimper at the sudden bite to your inner thigh. It was then that she decided to slide a third finger.

“Wanda,” you breathe out, back arching to chase after what she had been building.

Her fingers twist, trusting against your upper wall just as she sucks on your thigh.

“Oh my—please.”

You’re tugging at her hair, gasps and incoherent mumbles tumbling out from your lips.

“You’re squeezing me so tight,” she sucks at your clit, grinning at how your body reacts, “gonna come?”

Too much time passes and she’s impatient. Wanda thrusts her fingers in harder, a complete contrast of how gentle her voice sounds.

“Love. Are you close?”

“Yes,” you whimper, “don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of doing so.“

With a final kiss to your clit you’re sent over the edge. You grip at the tile, nails digging into the grooves. Wanda removes her fingers instantly, almost frantic as she brings her mouth to your heat. She soaks up every shiver, tongue swiping until all she can taste is herself.

You mumble her name, “kiss me.”

She’s shooting up, meeting you halfway. A muffle moan sounding from her as soon as you do.

“Mm,” you smile into her lips, “you taste good.”

“It drives me crazy,” she admits and pulls you back into a passionate kiss. A hand comes and strokes at your back, calming you down. It was when you felt your mind begin to clear, the effects of the orgasm fading away when she had started biting around your neck.

“If you continue like that,” you begin, stopping to gasp when she actually bites on your shoulder.

“Or what,” she questions, her eyes look at to the shower head with a shit-eating smile. You follow where she looked and jerk her head back by her hair.

“Every minute I spend with you I swear you just want me to believe you’re a total goof.”

“Is pleasing my girlfriend so bad?

“That’s a shower head.”

“So? Give me a chance,” she gives the worst puppy dog eyes, and yet you still can’t turn her down.

Her hands pull it off of the holder, the smile never leaving her face. Your emotions were apparent on your face. She laughs and kisses you sweetly, “it won’t hurt if that’s what you’re expecting.”

“I don’t think that, I just think you’re crazy sometimes.”

She hums, ignoring you and opening your legs. The water pressure feels like you’re grinding down on a pillow.

“You make the cutest faces,” she murmurs quietly to herself. She tilts her wrist for it to angle just below your clit. The action has your nails tearing into her back.

“Feel good, hmm?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whine, head falling onto her shoulder, “keep it there, please, please.”

She shushes you, repeating how she’s going to take care of you. She changes the setting, eyes steady on you and each reaction she pulls from you.

“Gonna come already?”

“Keep it there,” you move your head to kiss her chin, “please Wanda.”

“I will,” she whispers, “I will.”

When she realizes you’re coming, she’s hanging the shower head back to not overstimulate you. You’re coming down your high, breathing deep into the space you’ve created between you and her.

“You’re so beautiful. I can’t help myself.”

You laugh breathlessly, head tilting back as she kissing around your chest and neck.

The sound filling her heart with joy. You stay cooped in each other’s hold, feeling comfortable not saying anything for a few minutes.

“Was it okay?”

“It was wonderful,” you kiss her nose, “thank you. I feel bad, you haven’t gotten off.”

“You don’t have to, watching you was enough.”

You push her back and stare at her, “did you really come from watching me?”

She pinches under your breasts, “no. I just got myself off when I was eating you out earlier. I wasn’t lying, seeing you come is enough.”

“Speaking of,” wanda grabs at your waist, “do you want to come again?”

You smack her hands away, a warning that if she doesn’t actually shower, you’ll shoo her off to another shower. She does so well for the first part, enjoying herself and being with you.

It was sweet how she checked in, hands gentle washing the soap into your hair. It was when she had to start washing your body that she became suspicious. What set you her was how she was taking too long to wash your breast.

She had stood behind you, hands running down the front of your body while she breathed deep into your ear about how she wanted to take you while someone was in a shower beside you. You realized then that your warning was fake. She too realized, another playful smile finding its way onto her face as she felt your body melt into hers again.

The water had become cold by the two of you came back to reality and finish “showering.”

prev chap ✩ ══╡˚m.list˚╞══ ✩ next chap

@dorabledewdroop @aru-son @thelittleliars

@sokovianbaby @natsbiggestfan1

@r0manxff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

@emiliaisdead @esposadejoyhuerta

@shinysuitcloud @xxsekhmet

@casquinhaa @scarlettbitchx

[quinnylouhughesx43]

“He's been a bit of a jerk”

Summary: quinn suddenly ditches his childhood best friend on new years eve when they have spent every NYE together since they were 6. luke saves the night

Warnings: use of y/n and I think one or two uses of y/n/n, only brief mentions of quinn not actually active in fic but substantial to the plot, like has internal dialogue via italics, if I missed anything please let me know

Word Count: 1.8k

requested: yes - “luke pining after Quinn’s best friends and he finally gets the girl.”

Authors Note: edited as may 31, 2024 - if you read before May 31 the word count is now 800 more than it is was previously 🫣

On the frost-tipped grass, (Y/N) sat beneath a canopy of stars, her back propped against the rough bark of an old oak tree. A light dusting of snow had settled over the ground, transforming the world into a perfect winter wonderland. She shivered, not necessarily from the cold evening, but from the heart wrenching realization that tonight was supposed to go different. It was New Year's Eve, and every year since they were six, she and her childhood best friend, Quinn had celebrated together. But this year, he had up and ditched her last minute. Just like that. He gave her zero explanation and no apology. He had just vanished into the night with his middle brother, leaving her feeling more alone than ever. Which when he left for the NHL was pretty hard to top, yet he somehow managed to do it when he was only somewhere in the same town. The two barely get to see each other anymore as it is. He lives in Vancouver and she lives in Michigan. Quinn flies her out to a few games a season and of course she attends any Canucks vs Redwings games as well as Canucks vs Devils games. However the time the two have available with one another is so restricted at that time, she may as well be just another fan in the arena.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching through the frosted snow. A warm blanket was draped over her shoulders, and a steaming cup of hot chocolate was pressed into her hands. She looked up, her eyes falling on her best friend’s youngest brother, Luke, as he joined her. She briefly looked over his features, his cheeks were already flushed from the growing colder night, but the smile he gave her was warm and genuine.

"Hey, (Y/N)," he whispered as if they were amongst a huge crowd of people and not alone in an empty yard. His voice still highly audible over the silence of the night. "I came out here for a few reasons but one being because I…” Luke’s words ran out into the night. His right hand pulling off his beanie then he was slipping his fingers through his messy curls. A tell tale sign he was nervous about whatever he was about to say. “I wanted to apologize for what Quinn did to you tonight. He had no right to leave you like that. I don’t know what is going on with him and what would make him decide to leave behind the one person who has been consistent for him that isn’t family. The one person in his life that still sees him as Quinn and not as big shot Quinn..” Luke shoved his beanie back on and sighed. He had been looking up at the night sky watching the night clouds move uncovering the stars. “He has been a bit of a jerk here lately, and I'm sorry I couldn't do anything to stop him."

(Y/N) smiled weakly at the rambling boy next to her. Her gaze slowly drifting back up to the now clear sky and where the stars were twinkling like Christmas lights. "It's fine, really. I mean, it stung a lot at first, but..." Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged halfheartedly. "I'm just glad you were here tonight." The butterflies in Luke’s stomach flapped back to life and were going insane at her last statement. “Who knows Lukey. Maybe we can start our own tradition together this New Year’s.” Luke was watching her body languagefor any signs of a joke before speaking up. “I wouldn’t mind. It would teach Quinn to ditch someone as special as you.” (Y/N) slightly smiled, still looking up at the stars. “Special? No. Just me Luke.” (Y/N) argued, Luke didn’t want to have the silly argument back and forth. He knew just how special she is. Given the chance he would show her too. After all, a girl like her deserves to be treated, loved, and respected the way she treats, loves, and respects everyone else. (Y/N) was the girl has sought after ever since Luke stopped thinking he was supposed to marry his mom when he was older. Luke shook his head and groaned at her words. “One day (Y/N/N). Just you wait, one day you’ll know just how special you truly are.” He tells her before they fell into another comfortable silent state. His words confidently spilled out. (Y/N) turned her head opposite from Luke so he couldn’t see the true smile she was wearing across her face because of him. She also hoped he couldn’t hear her heartbeat as a result of his words.

The silence stretched between them, as she snuggled further into the blanket, (y/n) suddenly became aware that Luke was only wearing a thin jacket as he shivered. She glanced over at him, her eyes meeting his. "Here," she said, pulling the blanket off from around her shoulders. "You can have this. It's getting kind of cold out here." Luke hesitated for a moment, debating on offering to share the blanket. "No, really. It's fine. I'm warm enough." She shot him a glare. “Luke Warren Hughes. I just saw you shiver.” Her tone, at best, was barely strict. He held eye contact waiting for her to continue, he could practically see the gears turning in her mind. “If you won’t take it for yourself, we will share it.” She says wrapping it around him and snuggling into his side. Luke was trying his best to calm the butterflies and his racing heart. While also fighting the mental battle on if he should shoot his shot at midnight.

(Y/N) is the girl I have wanted for years now. She is right here. Cuddling into my side, a couple moves and I could easily be her new year’s kiss. If she hates it? I just play it off as a friendly new year’s kiss. Her and Quinn have been each other’s midnight kiss before, I can play it off as if I’m filling his shoes if she questions me and she’s angry. I can do this. I can do this. I think I can do this?

As midnight was quickly approaching the air was thick with anticipation between the both of them and more people were gathering outside.

The countdowns echoed throughout the night, each one louder than the last.

Fireworks lit up the sky, casting a multitude of colors over everyone. The fireworks also casting iridescent colors across the blanket of snow on the ground. Making a beautiful picturesque scene.

Luke decided it was definitely now or never. He may not have done it 12am but right now under the colorful display of the many fireworks was perfect. He smiled down at (Y/N), feeling a warmth spread through his chest, for the first time the butterflies in his stomach calmed. He leaned in, his breath fanning her cheek. "Happy New Year, (Y/n)." She felt his lips brush against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. That is when he froze up. Her reaction to his lips barely touching her sent his heart racing. He was scared she was going to send him flying into the snow. Her best friend’s baby brother’s lips just touched her. But she didn’t move. She was waiting? Luke quickly finished his well wishes to her before she snapped out of it, "I hope this year brings you everything you wish for." Her breath caught in her throat as he pulled back, their gazes locked.

“Do it Luke. Her eyes are basically screaming, begging for you to.” why do you have to be in my head now jack dear god please shut up.

In a seconds time he was leaning back in, his left hand making its way softly to the back of her head. His fingers interlacing in her hair. (Y/N)’s breaths were slow and deep awaiting Luke’s next move. “Tell me if this isn’t something you want.” Luke swallows down the anxiety he was feeling. Mentally silencing the jack he hears in his head telling him to go for it. “Because once I do this once.. I’m going to want to do this again and again. Everyday for the next foreseeable future.” Luke’s voice was trembling in want, desire, need. All of his feelings rushing to the forefront of his mind. “Shut up and kiss me Luke.” (Y/N) sighed grasping his face pulling him to her.

As their lips touched, the grand finale of the fireworks show was set off. The energy of the grand finale matching the energy sparking off the two of them. Luke and (y/n)’s kiss was hot enough to melt the snow underneath them. The way their mouths moved in perfect harmony. The small nips Luke made against her bottom lip as he pulled away. It left them both wanting more, needing more.

“Remind me to thank my brother for being an ass.” Luke mumbles against her lips before getting lost in another languid kiss. “Lukey let’s go home. It’s the new year, I’m cold and I also want to thank Quinn, because now I know who the better kisser is...well I’ve not kissed Jack.” She pauses and makes a playful gagging noise. “And because it finally got you to make a move.” Luke’s face went more red than it already was where it was tinged from the cold. “That..what?” He was baffled by her admittance . “I had my assumptions. I’m just happy I wasn’t wrong. Now let’s goooo. I wanna go get in bed and get warm.” (Y/N) sent a wink his way.

She was hinting towards cuddling. But with how fast Luke was grabbing up the blankets that they had been sitting on and were wrapped up in, before grabbing her hand and heading to the car…She is pretty sure his mind went a different direction.

“Quinn now owes me $10, he said you didn’t like me.” (Y/N) says once they were in the car and headed down the road. “You two had a bet on if I had a crush on you or not?” Luke laughed while asking. “No we had a bet on if you even liked me as a person. Because you avoided me. He’s going to be so shocked to know that you like-like me.” She clarifies with a giggle when she says ‘like-like’. Luke rolls his eyes at the thought of his older brother being naive enough to believe he didn’t like his best friend. “So back to what you said earlier tonight…Same thing and same place next new year’s?” Luke asks her. She nods with a smile. “New tradition, with you. Starting this year.” (Y/N) confirms with a nod. “Only maybe we hang out inside until right before midnight.” She adds grabbing for Luke’s hand to wrap both of her freezing ones around. The two sat in a comfortable silence stealing quick glances, with smiles plastered across their faces, and glimmers in their eyes the rest of the way to the Hughes home.

[you-til-i-die]

wishin’ I could write my name on it

f.odair x fem!reader

summary: a sneak peak into you and finnick’s lives

warnings/content: I wrote and edited this all in one sitting so if it’s absolute shit that’s why<3 district four victor!r, r is said to have throw up a few times, but none of it is graphic. mentions of blood and sex trafficking, cannon-typical shit really, swearing

song: august - ts

wc: 1.9k

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺

You and Finnick have one rule.

Don’t talk about it. Don’t ask about it. Don’t acknowledge it.

When the two of you are together, you can just forget about it. You can hang out on the beaches of District Four and pretend like these aren’t your lives.

But they are.

And it always somehow seeps through the cracks.

It’s in the way Finnick’s eyes are dull and empty the first few days after a trip to the capitol.

It’s in the way your laugh has morphed into a short bark.

It’s everywhere and it’s everything.

There’s no escaping it.

It haunts your dreams, it probably haunts Finnick’s too, even though you’d never ask.

Because that’s the rule. No asking. Ever.

————————————————————————

It was August. The sun seemed to slowly be getting the message that fall was getting nearer, the rays a little less intense then they had been a few weeks ago. The water was even the tiniest bit cooler, soothing a stubborn sunburn on your shoulders.

You were laying on the beach, face down on a towel, trying to ignore the stick of salt drying on your skin. You can’t help but let out a yawn, exhausted from the still persistent heat and trying to win against Finnick in a swimming race all day.

You were so relaxed. Focusing on the waves crashing against the shore. And the presence beside you that you knew was Finnick.

You honestly were about to fall asleep before he speaks. He mentions it so casually, he might as well have been asking what you wanted for dinner.

“Snow needs me in the capitol. I’m leaving on Friday.”

His voice is completely flat, devoid from all of its usual humor. It made you nauseous. You consider asking if he feels the same way, but you don’t. That was the rule. And you know the rules.

You push yourself up onto your elbows to get a good look at him, to try and decipher the look on his face. You could almost always read him. You hadn’t spent four years attached to each other to not learn the subtle mannerisms of the other. But this was different. It always was.

You and Finnick could talk about almost anything together. The games, the fear that you could never seem to shake, the nightmares, the way it was sometimes hard to stomach killing even a fish. But you never talk about this.

You never talk about how Snow will whisk one, or sometimes both, of you away whenever he needs a favor. You never tell him how afterwards you have to scrub your entire body raw before you can even begin to feel clean again. You don’t tell him how the first couple of times you would sob until you threw up, but now you just curl up and do your best to avoid the pit in your stomach.

Well, truthfully, you had talked about it once. But never again.

You had just been crowned victor of the 69th Hunger Games, District Four’s second victor in four years. It was no surprise, really. You were seventeen, and one of the oldest in the arena. You were strong, quick, and smart. So, so smart. You had won through pure trickery, and everyone loved you for it.

It’s hard for you to remember what happened the week after you won. There’s little snippets, of course. Looking down at the blood on your hands, blood that wasn’t yours. The booming of a voice in the arena, announcing that you were the victor. You had won. You did it. You had made District Four proud. And then you threw up.

You must have blacked out afterwards, because the next thing you remember is being back in your suite in the training center, sobbing in Finnick’s arms while he held you. Most of what you can remember is centered around him. Gripping onto his hand like a lifeline while your stylists buzzed around you. Glancing over Snow’s shoulder at him while the president crowned you. Watching him standing in the wings of the stage while Ceasar Flickerman went over a highlight reel of your time in the arena. Finding your way back into his arms on the train. You’re pretty sure Finnick didn’t say more than the same couple words the first week. It seemed to be a constant variation of “I know honey, but you’re safe now. I’ve got you sweetheart.”

It wasn’t until your victory tour that he told you. You doubt he ever would have, if he didn’t know for sure it would happen to you.

He had sat you down on the train after a party in District Two and told you everything. How Snow would practically sell him to people. How he didn’t have a say, and how you wouldn’t either, unless you wanted everyone you loved to be dead. He had grabbed your hands, shaking hand in shaking hand, and apologized profusely. He told you how he would do everything possible to keep you safe, he would offer himself instead of you. But you knew that wouldn’t work. Snow gets what Snow wants, and if Snow wants you to fuck his friends for some sick favor, there was nothing you, or Finnick, could do to stop that from happening.

“Oh.”

“Yah.” Was all Finnick said, refusing to meet you gaze as he stared out at the ocean. He’s working one of the muscles in his jaw and you have to look away before you grab his face and do something stupid.

“When will you be back?” You don’t say it, but you’re sure he understands the meaning. Please say it’ll only be one night. Please tell me they won’t put you through it more than once this time. Please tell me you’ll be back to hold me through the nightmares soon. Please don’t make me wait for you more than I already do.

“I’m not sure. Snow said a couple of days.”

No no no no no no no please no.

You didn’t respond. Scared that if you open your mouth the bile collecting in your throat would spill out.

You just look over at him. Take him in. It’s no wonder why the capitol loves him so much. Although not for his humor, his kindness, his strength, the way he’s always looking out for everyone but himself. None of that. Just because he’s a pretty face. But in the bright, golden sun, you find it hard to disagree with them. He’s all broad shoulders and a strong jawline. Bright green eyes that always seem to shine when they look at you. Sharp teeth hiding behind that perfect fucking smile. Salty hair you wanted to run your fingers through. Credit where credit is due, the capitol knows how to pick a sex symbol.

But you don’t see a sex symbol. Not right now. Right now all you see is the person you want to hold on to, and never let go of. The person you’d throw it all away for, if he asked. The person who seemed to always have another layer for you to work your way into, but you’d be damned if you ever stopped trying to get to the root of him.

You’ve been staring for an embarrassingly long amount of time. Finnick notices, of course, because Finnick notices everything.

“Honey?”

You tear your eyes away from where they had been tracing the veins in his hands. “Hm?”

“You ok?” And there it is. That fucking wolf smile. All sharp canines and slightly raised eyebrows because he knows. He knows he’s got you in between his teeth and he knows you’re happy to stay there because it’s him.

You pause, but just for a moment, trying not to give him the satisfaction of winning, of successfully flustering you. But his eyes are boring into yours and it’s so hard to look away from him, but you do. He wins. He normally does.

“‘M just thinking.”

“What about?” He asks. Flopping down on his side, trying to get on eye level with you because it’s never just enough for him to win, he has to make sure you know that he knows it.

You just roll your eyes at him, there’s nothing else you can do.

“About how we’ve been out here since nine in the morning and it’s after noon now, and you haven’t reapplied sunscreen once.”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes now.

“I don’t burn, honey, you know that.”

“What about that time you were out all day, didn’t put sunscreen on once, and then I had to rub aloe vera on your back for a week because you burned like hell and all of your skin was peeling off?” You ask, smile working its way onto your face. You know you’ve got him. You’re winning now.

He pauses, he doesn’t back down easily. “It was a fluke. A glitch, even.” He says, trying his best to shrug his shoulders even though he’s lying down. He fails. It looks ridiculous. You have to try not to laugh. “I honestly think the sun just had a vendetta against me that day.”

You’re failing at biting back a smile now. “At least let me get your back because there is literally nothing you could say or do to ever get me to help you with a third degree sunburn again.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just makes a big show of groaning and rolling his eyes at you before rolling onto his back.

You’ve won.

“So dramatic? You know that? It’s like being friends with a child.” You say as you root around in your bag for your sunscreen. Trying to ignore the disgusting feeling you know it will leave on your hands as you squirt it out.

He props himself up on his elbows to look at you, surely about to counter with some story about you being much more dramatic than him, before you shove him back down, face in the sand.

“Ow.”

“You’re fine. A little sand never killed anyone.”

You decide to ignore his grumbling, focusing on spreading the sunscreen on his back. However, you can’t ignore the growing pit in your stomach that you know will be there until Finnick’s back from the capitol.

Still, they can’t take this from you. You’ve earned it. You deserve to be here, definitely not checking out your best friend who you know you can’t have.

You lose yourself for a moment. Letting yourself focus on the way his muscles feel under your hands. Maybe, one day, this could be real. The capitol will find new, attractive victors, and they’ll move on. You and Finnick can fade into the background, and just live.

You pull back, and grab the tube again, squirting it directly on his back. You start to rub it in before pausing for a moment, why not?

Quickly, you write your name in the sunscreen on his back. Snow has cameras everywhere. Maybe he’s watching. Maybe he’s not. But either way, at least for a second, you can say mine. All mine. You can’t take him from me, not really.

He feels it, lifting his head up just as you’re wiping away the evidence.

“Are you drawing on my back?”

You flash him your own smile. A little less wolfish, a little more coy.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺

A/n: Hi omg I wrote this in one sitting😭this has just been rattling around in my head for weeks now and I had to get it out lol. Constructive criticism and feedback is always appreciated, I hope you all enjoyed<3

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Your Girlfriend's Hot When She Kicks Ass - I Know

content: leo valdez x daughter of poseidon! reader warning: language and mentions of fighting but the author is like so terrible and can’t even describe a fight scene so yall should be fine author's note: by pop song, i mean painfully y2k song, im picturing a fun uptempo beat yall. i can already see the fake edits in my head

as much as she liked to deny it, y/n was a damn good fighter. she’d been doing it so long, it’d quickly began second nature to the daughter of poseidon. not even percy could beat her, the only title she wore with pride. though, the only better swordsman she knew was…luke. she tried not to think about him too much though, like most of camp half-blood. but…the roman demigods were a different breed entirely. they were trained differently, more stiff and solid. it was something that always intrigued her. which is why, whenever jason stayed at camp, they’d have a sword fight. she’d slide their names into the board, registering their spot for the afternoon. whispers and bets would quickly flow through the camp whenever she did that. jason and her were pretty even at this point, jason having won three fights and y/n having won two. leo could tell she was determined to win today from the way she avoided him, something about his face throwing her off as she grabbed an apple before scampering away.

“best friend or girlfriend, who’s gonna win?” travis questioned, presenting a hairbrush to leo like it was a mic as he made his way towards the arena, along with most of the camp.

“no comment,” leo winked back, knowing he couldn’t choose sides. plus, this was just dramatic training for the two, neither of them gave a single shit who was better. they just liked to have fun and this was one of their common denominators.

“ugh, no fun. connor’s got fifty bucks on jason,” travis groaned as the two sat in their front row seats, leo shaking his head at him.

“With?”

“mr. d,” travis shrugged like it was obvious.

the previous match was still finishing up, between clarrisse and one of her siblings, which she was basically throwing around like a ragdoll. leo winced as the poor guy was slammed into the ground, the air visibly leaving his chest. clarisse then dragged him out and towards, surely, the infirmary. Which would be empty, as leo could see will standing near the edge of the area, cupping his mouth and shouting his support of y/n, like he always did. sloppily written on his shirt was ‘team y/n,’ clearly done last minute with a sharpie. leo was gonna have to ask him for one of his own later, as the match was about to begin.

some pop song played over the speakers, y/n and jason laughing as they walked out. y/n raised her hand towards the crowd, waving as she was met with both cheers and friendly boos. jason bumped his shoulder with y/n and said something to her that the crowds couldn’t hear. she laughed more before motion towards the crowd to settle down.

“look at the crowd we’ve brought, jason. you’d think we’re famous or something,” y/n jokes, earning a few laughs. leo brought his hand up to his mouth and whistled, y/n’s eyes turning to him with a glimmer that was only saved for him. she winks at him before turning to jason and adjusting her armor.

“let’s give them what they want, yeah?” jason prompted, a small smile on his face as he nodded towards the crowds. leo couldn’t help but notice that jason always seemed to take on a playful demeanor during these little fights.

“same rules as always, superman?” y/n replied, swinging her sword around as she and jason started to circle each other. the trash talk was about to start, which is what made the two so interesting.

“of course…fish head,” jason tauts, bending at his knees. the two paused, waiting for the bell to ring so they could start.

a few seconds passed before the two straightened up and looked over at the bell, seeing percy struggle with it.

“dude!” the two shouted at him, percy huffing at them.

“it’s harder than it looks!”

“you’re making this anticlimactic!” will shouted from the stands, gaining support easily.

then a dagger smacked into the bell, easily ringing it. all eyes turned to where annabeth was standing from the stands, her hips jutted out.

“i’ve got 15 drachmas on you, y/n!” she called, y/n rolling her eyes before quickly dropping and rolling on the ground before popping back up on one knee, just barely missing jason’s blade.

“you walk like a mountain, grace. sealth is not your expertise,” y/n called, spinning with a swing that slammed against jason’s sword, the two of them basically face to face before jason shoved her off.

“you swing like you’ve got flowers for arms,” jason bit out, the two of them circling the other while they waited for an opportunity to strike. y/n scoffed at him, faking a swing to one side before pulling it back and making a stabbing motion. her sword smashed into his chest plate and he surely would have been sprawled out on his back had he not caught himself with a gust of wind, leaving the boy upright and a few feet away.

“scared, yet?” questioned y/n, straightening up and turning her shoulder towards the roman.

“am i supposed to be?” he replied, oohs and ahhs filling the crowd.

“don’t worry, you will be,” y/n glowered at him before taking the first swing, easily being blocked by jason, which is what she wanted as she shoved her body weight against his, sending them both to the ground. leo jumped out of his seat to get a better view along with everyone else, the adrenaline filling the crowd and they weren’t even fighting.

“you know, you’re girlfriend’s hot when she kicks ass,” travis managed to get out as his eyes were trained on the pair rolling around in the dirt. leo smirked to himself, also keeping his eyes on the two demigods.

“i know.”

“get off me!” jason called like a child, y/n’s hands shoving into his side as they both scrambled around in the dirt. jason shot his hand out, blowing y/n’s weapon out of reach.

“that was low even for you!” y/n called, kicking out with her foot against his shin before shooting up to her feet.

jason reached out with his hand to grasp her ankle but he was then smacked upside the head with a plastic water bottle. y/n shot a smirk over her shoulder at jason, who then threw the water bottle away and chased after her. y/n dove for her sword, rolling out of it as jason swung downward towards her. y/n just barely managed to get her sword upwards, groaning as she pushed against him.

“how’s it going down there, l/n?” jason gasped out, pushing harder.

“it’s pretty relaxing, grace, you should try it out!” y/n called, slamming her foot against his ankle, which caused the boy to lose his shove against her sword, which she then twisted out of his hand. y/n kicked his sword away before slamming backwards against jason, sending him straight to the ground, the blond breathing heavily on the ground. y/n raised the sword to his chin, gasping in breaths. the two stayed like this for a bit before jason got up on his forearms and y/n blinked a few times, like she was coming out of a haze. the crowd was on edge in silence, waiting for the verdict.

“wait- wait, did i just win?” she asked in shock, all the previous venom lost. jason laughed, nodding his head. y/n then scrambled to pull him to his feet, dropping her blade off to the side.

“i can’t celebrate if you’re on the ground,” she told him and then the crowd erupted, both with groans and cheers. there was the exchanging of money and goods, leo proudly taking ten bucks from clarisse, who stomped away.

“dude, i thought you said no comment?! the hypocrisy?!” travis argued in shock and leo looked at the boy as he began to walk away.

“i always bet on blue,” he winked, making his way over to y/n and jason, who were happily talking about the fight they just had.

“i gotta admit, i was scared for a moment there without my sword,” y/n told jason, undoing the straps of her armor and allowing it to fall off.

“oh, come on! after i missed that first swing, i knew i was a goner,” jason replied, waving the girl off as he put his sword away.

“we get it, you’re both amazing!” leo cut in, both of their eyes turning to the boy. y/n pressed a kiss to his cheek, leo’s smile widening.

“i’d say i’m the real winner,” leo started, wrapping his arm around y/n as he gave jason their secret handshake.

“how so?” jason questioned.

“i’ve got both of you on my side, i’ll be surprised if i leave any battle with more than a scratch,” he jokes and they all laugh, y/n cuddling up into leo’s chest. and he couldn’t even find it in him to mind that she was sweaty and her arm cuffs were digging into his side.

“it’s officially a tie, jase, what are we gonna do now?” y/n asks, looking over at the roman boy, who pretended to be deep in thought.

“same time next month?” he replied with a smirk.

“you’re on, sparky!” y/n cheered, taking his hand into hers in a firm shake, both making mental promises that they didn’t need to.

“i’ll bring a stapler next time, put the real fear of gods into you,” y/n tauts with a wink, jason groaning as he follows the pair out of the arena.

“you try to eat a stapler one time,” he huffs and y/n and leo laugh at his tone.

“hey, y/n, lunch on me?” leo prompts, producing a ten from his pocket with a smirk. y/n squints at him suspiciously but nods, knowing how he got that money without having to ask. leo looks over the girl at jason, tilting his head.

“you wanna come, man? i’ll let you pick where,” leo offered but jason shook his head with a smile.

“no, i'm good. have at it, you two,” jason told them, nodding his head as he walked towards his cabin.

he shot a glance over his shoulder at the two, happily laughing and closer than close. his smile seemed unstoppable, as he couldn’t imagine the two without each other. he was glad they found each other and then he was glad he found them.

[dre6ming]

Christmas tree shopping

The delicate beginning rush

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Austin Butler x singer/actress fem reader

Warnings: smut, sex, explicit content, mentions of blood, crying, bad family relationships, fluff

Word count: ~3000

Plot: Christmas tree shopping puts a small dent into your heart considering the past, so when Austin asks that you do it together, you have some holdbacks.

I love Christmas! And that's that. I've always loved it, ever since I could understand the concept of it. I adore the buzz of the crowd searching for gifts, the smell of Christmas foods, the decorations, the songs, the movies. I mean you'd have to have a big lump of coal for a heart to not like Christmas. But with all my love for this time of the year, this year I'm just not feeling it.

As I walk the crowed streets of New York all on my own, with my big fluffy scarf covering most of my face, I look around at the stores wondering where I could go next, dreading going home, where Austin waits for me so we can go Christmas tree shopping. When he proposed the idea that we go together, I just nodded and smiled, but in my heart a big hole was being uncovered. I used to go Christmas tree shopping with my dad, some of my favorite memories with him, are of us choosing a tree, setting it up in the living room and decorating it together. Those were some of the best hours in the whole year. But then the divorce happened right before Christmas, no one bought a Christmas tree, I didn't even bother decorating that year, I stayed over at Timmy's house, then the year after that, was mine and Austin's first Christmas together, but he was with his family and I went again to Timmy's house.

This year though, he wants us to have a Christmas together together. He suggested that we spend it over at his LA home, but Christmas is supposed to be cold and wet and snowy, not sunny and hot, so we are going to have a small party at my apartment on the 25th, until then he wants all the Christmas stuff to be done. Which I'm more than happy to do, but I was hoping we'd get a fake tree from Amazon or something.

I feel my phone vibrate in the pocket of my coat and I know I can't ignore him, or he will get worried, so I sigh, taking the phone out and answering the call. "Hi, Aus! I'm still looking at a few shops, they've got really nice things out here, I bought some stuff." I lie, having not bought even a single thing. "Don't worry darling, I was just checking in, what do you say, I come get you with the car and then we go to the Christmas tree market?" He asks so sweetly, it hurts my heart. "Um actually I don't know, I don't think I'm gonna be much longer, so just wait for me back at the apartment." I hate the anticipation of the disappointment in his voice. "That's fine Y/n, just be safe, I love you!" I close my eyes and rub my temple with my free hand, feeling a headache creep it's way to me. "Love you too!" I cut the call short and keep walking, smiling as I spot the rusty old sign from Frank's record store.

As I enter the smell of cinnamon and chocolate, hits me, soft jazz playing in the background. The store looks empty today, except for Frank, sitting behind the counter, reading a book. As the door bell rings he looks up from his book and smiles at me, getting up to come hug me. "Hey kid, haven't seen you in a hot minute. Though I've heard plenty of you. I never knew fruitcake makes you sick" he laughs, referencing my latest album, a Christmas ep called fruitcake. "Very funny!" I giggle, unwrapping the scarf from my neck and undoing some of the buttons on my coat.

"Well I've been busy, but I'm home for the holidays." I say, looking around, skimming through some of the new records he has in store. "Hm I bet you're busy, touring arenas and all. Hey kid look what I have here." Frank says as he goes to the back and brings out a mysterious vinyl. "It's a first edition. A mix done on vinyl in the 90's, all your favorites are on here." He explains, replacing the vinyl he had one with the new one he brought. "Last Christmas I have you my heart.." the song starts playing and I start singing along.

"Want some hot cocoa?" Frank asks, putting the closed sign on the door, as I take of my coat to be a bit more comfortable. "Of course I want some, extra-" "-Whipping cream, I know" he finishes my sentence, making both of us laugh. As Frank goes to make the hot cocoa, I take my phone out and text Austin.

Me

Hey, something came up, I'm over at Roxy's place. Can we reschedule?

Austin

Sure, hope everything is alright. Love you 💜🧶

Me

Ofc, love you too

I hate lying to him, but I just don't feel like having a therapy session right now. "Hmm perfect!" I smile taking the cup from Frank and drinking some of the delicious hot beverage. "So any big plans for Christmas this year?" He asks, and I start telling him all about the dinner me and Austin are hosting for friends and family.

Before I knew it I had spent a few good hours over at Frank's store and then I had to call Matt to come get me with the car and drive me back home, as it had gone dark outside. So now I'm in the elevator, watching the buttons of each floor light up, until we get to number 10. I walk in and the whole place is quiet, no sight of Austin or any cats, so I guess that he must be sleeping. Tiptoeing to my room I find Austin sleeping on the bed with Simba and William cuddled up to him. Walking into the closet I try to make as little sound as possible and I start to take off my clothes.

I feel a pair of arms wrap around me and I let out a small scream, startled for a moment. "Shh it's me" Austin whispers against my ear, kissing down my neck, I lean into him and reach my hand back, to comb through his thick hair. "It's ok.." I moan as he sucks the skin right above my collarbone. His hands travel down my abdomen and unbutton my jeans, his right hand sliding down between my legs, into my underwear. "Austin.." I sigh, putting all my weight on him. "Shh, don't talk." Austin says

He's skilled fingers work me like magic, his left arm tight around my waist holding me up, as he plugs a finger into me. I gasp, fisting his hair, as he moves slowly inside me. "Shh no talking." He repeats, after I try to moan his name again. This is something we've never done before, he usually likes me talking during sex, and he encourages me to be vocal, but this time he wants me to be quiet.

I'm lost in my train of thought and don't realize the moment he pulls his hand away and picks me up, taking me to the bed. "Aus?" I ask concerned as he removes my jeans but not my panties. He looks at me, but there's no tenderness like before, he looks mad? "No talking." Is all he says, as he takes off his clothes and puts on a condom, getting on top of me. "Aus baby, is something wrong?" I ask touching his face. A faint smile crosses his face and a glimmer of something sweet shows up in his eyes. My heart beats at a thousand miles per hour and I'm aroused as ever, but something is off.

"Nothings wrong, I just want to feel you." He says, kissing me, his hands going back to their ministrations. We move in sink and I reach behind me to unclasp my bra. Austin's hands go immediately to my breasts, kneading and pinching my nipples. "Fuck!" He grunts as I sneak my hand down and pump his cock, touching his tip to my covered pussy, wishing right now there was no thin layer of cotton between us.

"Please!" I beg as his head nudges at my wet pussy, brushing against my clit, sending electric shocks up my spine. "Fucking hell!" Austin curses, guiding his hand between us, to push my panties to the side, quickly sliding into me. I wince in pain, as he usually takes his time opening me up, but this time he seems to be in a hurry. His lips find mine and he swallows my whimpers. When he's all the way in, he stills and waits for me to give him the ok to move. After a few moments of sitting like this conjoined, with my legs around his waist, my hand in his hair and his around my waist, something changes, something in him, he starts feeling warm and soft, unlike the cold stiff feeling he was giving me before, it's like he melts into me.

His hands moves up my body, wrapping tightly around me. "I'm sorry!" He says in a broken voice. "It's ok, doesn't hurt anymore, please move." I say caressing his cheek, encouraging him to pull his hips back. When his pelvis meets mine again, fireworks sparkle behind my closed eyelids. Austin starts a slow pace, each time going deeper and deeper if that were possible. The room is filled my muffled moans and skin slapping noises, as both of us feel closer and closer to the sweet release. "Shit Austin, I need more, please!" I beg arching my back to give him a new angle.

Austin groans in my ear and picks up the pace, placing one hand behind my head on the pillow and the other on my clit, rubbing slow circles. "I love you! I love you so much!" I say, feeling closer to my orgasm, my walls spasm around hid twitching cock. "Fuck!" His voice sound strangled and he moves faster, sloppier. "I love you I love you Iloveyou!" I say over and over again and over again. He keeps his moves fast and rhythmic, I curl my toes and pull on his hair, my orgasm wrecking through my body, tingling head to toe. Austin keeps moving until I feel him tens and he cums moaning into my shoulder.

We sit a few minutes tangled together, breathing in sink, his heart thudding against my chest. The  without a word, Austin pulls out, leaving me empty, getting up and going to the bathroom. I'm left staring at the ceiling, wondering what this whole experience was just weird. I sit up in bed and wrap myself in my fluffy robe, getting up, going to the kitchen to drink some water.

I keep thinking what just happened, I can't imagine what must have happened to make Austin act like this. It's not that the sex didn't feel good, it did, but it felt like he was somewhere else, or at lest trying to be somewhere else. "Are you hungry ?" I jump at Austin's voice, dropping the glass of water on the floor. Without thinking I try to reach for the broom, to clean this up, but I step on a shard of glass. "Aw, fuck fuck!" I let out, holding onto the counter, lifting my leg up to see if the cut is bad. It's only a small shard, so the cut is barely a graze, but blood is already coming out of it. "Don't move!" Austin warns, walking around the broken glass and water, coming next to me. He puts both hands on my waist and lifts me up on the counter, the going to clean the mess I made.

We sit in silence, as he cleans and I feel the blood dripping down my foot. When he's done, he goes away and I start thinking if he just left me here, which I know is stupid, but my brain can't stop making weird scenarios up. "Show me your leg!" Austin says, kneeling down in front of me, cleaning my wound and putting a bandage over it. "All done!"

"Are you mad at me?" I ask at the same time as he speaks and he blushes, looking the other way, avoiding my eyes. "Where were you today?" He asks and as I open my mouth to answer he interrupts me. "Don't lie, Roxy came over, thinking you were here." I sigh and jump off from the counter, ignoring the pain in my leg. I wobble a little bit, despite my best effort, so Austin puts his hands up around me, ready to catch me if anything were to happen. I look him up and down, thinking about what I could say, I could just tell him the truth, but I haven't really told him much about mine and my dad's relationship. He waits patiently for me to answer and the way his arms are still around me, like waiting for a hug, makes me want to melt right into him, but I choose the childish part of me, pushing him away and walking past him.

"Did something happen?" His voice sounds like an echo and for a moment I feel like he didn't even speak and it was all my imagination. I turn around slowly, looking at his face, his eyes are read, teary. "Aus-"

"I know you weren't at Roxy's place, you didn't answer your phone, you were out shopping all day and yet, came back with no bags or nothing." Austin's hands are shaking, so I walk up to him slowly, taking his hands in mine, but he takes a step back, pulling away, which breaks my heart. "Can we sit down? I can explain everything." He shakes his head and I close my eyes taking a deep breath, preparing for the things I'm about to say.

"I was at Franks store, I did go out to buy somethings, but my head was somewhere else so I didn't get anything, just walked around." I start saying and he fiddles around with his hands. "Why?"

"I wanted to go Christmas tree shopping, but it just it hurt to much. I haven't gone shopping with anyone other than my dad, it was our thing, but I'm no longer a part of his life and it's, it's like slowly learning how to breathe again." His face saddens more, but this time, the sadness is pointed my way, and I appreciate his empathy, but I'd like if he'd stop. "I'm sorry I really am, it's just been hard on me to.." my voice breaks down and I lick my lips, tasting the salt of my tears.

Austin closes the distance between and hugs me tight. "You should have told me, I'm sorry, we don't have to go if you don't feel like it, baby" he says rubbing my back, holding me close to him. "I think if you go with me , I could do it. " he chuckles, kissing the top of my head and we stand hugging for a moment.

"Aus?" I ask softly something still on my mind. "Yeah?" "Is something wrong, you felt a little cold, you know, earlier." I feel him stiffen a bit, so I wiggle out of his arms to look up at him. "Well I was worried about you and my sister told me that she and the kids are down with some virus and can’t make it to Christmas, so I was just filled to the brim with worry." I smile at him, touching his hair lightly, placing some flyaway hairs back. "Oh my baby, want some hot cocoa? And how about we bake something?" I say, walking back to the kitchen counter and getting things ready for a feel better night. "Your butter cookies? With orange?" He asks puppy eyed, making me giggle. "Well I did just buy some oranges yesterday, so why even ask?" I say putting milk on the stove to warm up and already measuring the right amount of flour and sugar.

Between finishing the hot cocoa and adding the flour to the dough, someone decided to start a fight with flour, so we're now laughing, picking flour from our hair, as the cookies rise. "You're such a child." I chuckle, wiping his nose. "I just couldn't help myself" he shrugs, smirking at me.

The next morning we wake up as late as we can and now we're enjoying a shower together. His hands wash my skin tenderly, massaging all the stiff spots. "I don't think I'll ever get bored of washing your hair!" He admits, bubbling the shampoo between his hands, then applying it to my hair. "Well I'll never get bored of you washing my hair, so lucky for you!"

After what must have been the slowest start of day in months, we finally enter the Christmas tree market, hand in hand. Being here does feel weird without my dad, but not as bad as I thought. Austin squeezes my hand three times and that calms me a bit, so I take a deep breath, looking at all the trees. "Can we get a huge one?" I ask already having my eye on one. "I was thinking smaller, but whatever you want." He says, looking the opposite way the trees that are way too small for my liking. "How about two trees?" I suggest, smiling at him.

"Honey I don't think we'll fit in the elevator with this." Austin says, as he pull down the tree that's almost twice his height, from the roof of my heel. Driving around New York with this on top of the car was of course something out of a comedy. "So up the stairs?" I ask hoping he'd say "no"

"I think so." He sighs, looking with dread at the staircase door. "Ok then.." I say defeated, locking the car and getting ready to help him.

Around the 2nd floor it feels like I'm dying, we decided that best way was for me to go up pulling and him pushing form down. "I think we're going somewhere." I encourage, already cursing myself for not going to the gym enough. Austin laughs, form somewhere behind the tree branches. "Yeah the North Pole!" He jokes

On the 10th floor we  stop at the door of the apartment, him in better shape than me, but still just as tired. "You have no idea how lucky you are I love you!" Austin says, kissing my cheek. "I love you too!"

"Is it straight?" Austin asks from under the tree, trying to place it in the tree stand. "A little to the left!" I instruct. "My left? Or your left?" He asks, out of breath. "Mine, ugh no, yours. I don't know, can you get out of from there?" I ask and he comes to sit next to me. The tree is still very much crooked, but I think I like it this way. "I think I like it this way!" Austin says, rubbing my back. I snuggle into his side and stand on my tippy toes to kiss him. "I think I agree!"

"I think I love you!" He says, picking me up and spinning me around. "Did you notice that you kinda picked a tree looking like me and I picked one looking like you?" Austin jokes again, but as I look at the two Christmas trees, now realizing that the very obvious height difference does resemble the one me and Austin have between us. "I think we just did the funniest thing." I admit, going to the boxes on the floor and taking an ornament out, placing it in the smaller tree Austin chose. "Merry Christmas, y/n! I love you!" Austin says, placing and ornament in the tree I picked. "Merry Christmas Austin, I love you too!"

Tag list: @galaxygirl453

@rainydayz101

@samaraannhan20

@marlowmode

@myradiaz

@areuirish

@micaelainthe60s

@homebodybirkin2003

@pennyroyalcreep

@purejasmine

@strokesofstokes

@lanasfloridakiloss

@denised916

@kibumslatina

@macey234

@melodixs-blog

@shantellescrivener

@chewiethecatus

@guacala

@fangirl125reader

@father-of-2cats

@lucid315

@ashtag6887

@ilovehobi101

@richardslady121

@jensmithin

@julie181

@chrisevansgirl34

@ranaissingle

@onecrazydirectioner

@maria-1287

@austinbutlerssimp

@kingdomforapony

@acoolnight

@tarot-sybarite

@goldenmarygio

@frozenhuntress67

@anonyboo63478338

@littlewhiterose

@thefallofthedamned

@1eminicookie

@rose-deathman

@iheqrtaustin

@desitravelsblog

@prompted-wordsmith

@austinsvlrslut

@crystallizedth0t

@hertvgirl

@peanutbutterinacup

@austinswhitewolf

@saniyahgordon

@thatgirlthatreadswattpad

@slowsweetlove

@jaqueline19997

@formulapierre

[littlelostmabari]

Some Galemancing fluff for @sorceresssundries and @miradelletarot and @gale-force-storm who fill my dash so reliably with the delicious wizard.

Gale x f!Reader, post-epilogue. (Reader unnamed, referred to as she/her/wife) Word Count: 2.2k

Edit: Now on AO3!

The evening sun threatens to kiss the horizon across the bay of Waterdeep as you weave your fingers through the feathery fur of your favorite four-legged companion.

Well, the closest four-legged companion, you laugh to yourself as you hear a familiar roar from a floor above where Karlach and the owlbear were no doubt tussling in the arcane arena your darling wizard had installed in the upper levels of his newly conjured tower. She arrived from Avernus a few hours ago with some rage to burn, and Nugget was always willing to practice new ways to defend his nest. His home.

“Your hand is on the page, pet,” Tara purrs. Your thoughts are quickly brought back to the balcony and the sunset, your hand naturally moving back to the delicate fur on the top of Tara’s head. You run her fingers down the tressym’s neck and back, finally scratching the base of Tara’s tail — just as you know she likes it — before resting back on the bench. You’ve purposefully avoided Tara’s reading material this time. The apprentice Aribella rests on her stomach on the ground nearby, her legs kicking up into the air as she hems and haws over the bud that won’t quite open into bloom from her palm. The violent magic of nature's wrath had been easy for her to draw on after her experience with the druid totem, but under Gale’s tutelage she was slowly learning the calmer patterns of the Weave. She focuses intently on her latest homework to druidcraft a flower crown for her constant canine companion.

Speaking of, Scratch had been noticeably absent from Aribella’s side. You feel a frown cross your face, and find your eyes drawn deeper into the dim light of the tower. The study had slowly gotten messier the longer you had lived there, an awesome wreck after only a few months (although Gale often commented that since there was a wide pathway through the mess, technically it wasn’t hoarding). Aribella devoured books the same way Tav imagined Gale did at her age. There were tomes lying on every surface: open, closed, dog-eared, bookmarked, stacked to the ceiling. No one but Gale and Aribella knew which projects were active and which had been discussed, debated, discarded.

The piano in the corner played a new tune, a soft baudy jingle that you had accidentally brought home from your most recent night out with Alfira and the other tiefling refugees from the Grove. No, not refugees, not anymore. They had found their homes in Baldur’s Gate, and you visited the Elfsong Tavern as often as you could — you knew all Alfira’s songs at this point but loved absorbing the joy from the room as she played... But the piano had a terrible habit of catching any tune hummed in its presence, a constant bittersweet reminder of the distance to your friends.

Not seeing a white furry tail wagging from this distance, you murmur an apology to Tara, who fluffs her feathers indignantly. She digs claws just the other side of painfully into your lap as if to dare you to get up. Knowing she will be just fine without you, you take in one hand your empty wine glass, then close your eyes and gently tug on your connection to the Weave. A misty step cruelly leaves Tara with only a conjured pillow for comfort. Tara would call it cruel, anyway, regardless of Gale’s gentle warming spell that forever permeated the pillow slip. The tressym narrows her eyes without leaving her most recent tome — her only other reaction reaching out with a back leg to scratch a spot behind her ear.

With a chuckle, you absentmindedly bring the glass to your lips, remembering at once that it was empty. To the kitchen then.

The noise is the first thing to reach you. It is uncommonly loud for your little tower (ignoring the more recent arcane stories), even considering its normal inhabitants. You had grown used to raucous laughter from your many adventures, but it had been too long since it echoed within these walls. You pause with one hand just barely touching the door into the parlor, smiling contently as a soft memory of bedrolls and looted wine and butter buns crosses the forefront of your memory.

“And then… and then…” you hear Wyll’s tenor deep into another story, laughing so hard he can’t find the words. “The kid asks me if I’ve ever bested an owlbear!” Another ringing laugh joins in, then, and you find yourself pushing the door open. Your eyes land first on your dearest, closest friend, currently desperately trying to pat down a growing wine spill on the ruffles of her white shirt. Shadowheart brushes hair and tears out of her eyes. “I’m sure you then told the poor lad that you fought back-to-back with an armored Nugget? Just to see the soul leave his eyes?”.

Wyll nods. “I did, I did! And the kid just stood there staring at me… and then he turned on his heel and left the tavern! Fool trying to out-match the Blade of Avernus!” The two dissolve into another fit of giggles, uninterrupted by your entrance into the parlor. The door swings shut behind you with a soft reverberation, and Shadowheart’s eyes brighten to meet yours. She points at her shirt and winks; you gently pluck at the Weave and the wine stain is gone, prestidigitated to wherever those lost memories go. You reach out for Shadowheart… before ducking the hug and stealing her wine glass. A hearty laugh follows you to the other side of the parlor as Shadowheart rises from her stool and chases after you with a sudden hug from behind. You feel the soft echo of magic between the two of you, knowledge of each other harmonizing. Wyll swings around the table to refill both glasses, a lingering kiss on your cheek on the way.

“I’m so glad you both made it,” you smile to two of your dearest friends. “I heard Karlach come in earlier, she’s still upstairs.”

Wyll nods. “We missed Mizora by this much,” he sighs, bringing his pointer finger and thumb to a centimeter apart before looking up and out to the entrance to the upper floors. “She’ll be alright come dinnertime.”

“And who exactly are we having for dinner tonight?” a smirking voice sings from the end of the room as the door to the bustling outside world closes with a sharp click. His arrival had been expected… arrived last night in fact, with business in Waterdeep important enough to go out cloaked rather than waiting for the sun to set.

“Depends, Astarion, would you prefer the red wine or the white? I’m sure Gale could make some recommendations,” Shadowheart snorts. Laughter meets the wrinkle of Astarion’s nose as he removes his deep purple enchanted cloak to hang at the side. There are still too few outer layers missing from the coat closet --- friends yet to arrive for the celebration.

As if summoned by the hungry rumble of your belly — and knowing your husband, it probably was — a platter of cheese, cured meats, and pickled bits and bobs appeared within arms reach. Shadowheart and Wyll lunge in competition for first taste, and you decide you'd prefer your first bite directly from the source. 

The kitchen is only across the hall, a single sip of wine away. Laughter fades gently into the clink of dishware and the soft hum of another song you had brought home from the Gate. This one was a moving tune in three-four time, and the soft pat of house shoes suggested the kitchen's occupant was floating about his dinner prep with perfect rhythm. 

You push the door open gently, mindful of its creak so as to not disrupt one of your favorite sights in this tower. His hands are in his hair, again, pulling another traitorous lock back from where it had escaped from the bun he sports when he is at his most focused. You had left him to his work this afternoon, as he had requested, which meant no one had been around to tell him which spots of gray were his natural coloring and which were simply dashes of flour. The chorus of the waltz rises, his hands back at his hips as he surveys another recipe written carefully by his mother into a book that was so lovingly used you'd insisted on rebinding last year for his nameday. He balances on the balls of his feet, prepared to move the moment he knows what comes next. 

Time slows around you as you watch him slide between dishes, one stirred with mage hand, another whipped by an unseen servant. He tastes each, seasons one, and spins through a crescendo in the source-less music, intent on the oven. It is in this turn that he spies you leaning against the wall with the door closed softly behind you. 

If the kitchen had been completely frozen over, his smile would have melted it all away in an instant. 

“My love!”

You can feel the effort it takes for him to drag his eyes away from you, but a short ring from the oven indicates something desperately needs his attention more than you.

He pulls a kitchen towel from the ether and wrestles the roast from the oven under his own power. His mother insists that this particular recipe out of all of those tucked away in her book must be done with mortal, mundane hands. When it is safely secured on the trivet (quickly set in place by an unseen servant), he brushes the day's mess from his palms and rushes to your side. 

“As always you have the most impeccable timing, my darling.” 

Gale has many different kisses, you have come to learn. Some, like those he left on your forehead and nose and lips this morning as he crawled from bed, ignoring your pleas to sleep in, were soft and kind and loving. Those kisses were reserved for sleepy minds and moments in between moments. Others, like those you anticipated would follow the last of your friends succumbing to slumber this evening, were deep and pressing. Those kisses begged for the barriers between two souls alight with desire to be sundered so that the two could become a single being of light and love. 

And then there were the kisses like the one he pressed into you now. These were promises of tonight and tomorrow and the next day and next year and forever. These were the kisses that made you hope, that drove your soul to the gentle smile of one who loves and is loved in return. It was the kind of kiss that he had pulled you into when Shadowheart had called out to the temple “man and wife”. 

One hand reaches down to your waist, pulling you away from the wall and into the warmth of his body. The other passes up to your jawline where his fingers press gently into the back of your neck. When he finally relents, a crooked grin alights across his face. He has evidently left something of dinner behind on your jaw, which he wipes away with a quick rub of his thumb, and with a soft breath he brings to your lips. The taste is sour and sweet, the tang of lemon and honey glaze — 

“I believe that particular flavor is meant for the roast, my dear,” you murmur, pressing your tongue against the flat of his thumb.

“Ah, you would be correct. The time is long past that I attempt to improve upon a lover's perfection.” He leans in and presses more than casually into your core, his next murmurs meant for your ears only with how he nibbles gently on your neck. “Besides, I have other flavors in mind when it comes to complementing your particular essence…

“But!” He pushes away suddenly, and you have to catch yourself from falling into the space he leaves. “That discussion must be put on pause for the time that our long-awaited guests have found their lodgings and I am able to devote my full attention away from this feast.” His smile and the crinkles around his eyes betray his teasing — you both know you must leave him to work if your guests are to be fed anywhere near on time. He leans in only once more to press a kiss of the first kind onto the tip of your nose, and then rapidly shoves a basket of garlic and spring onion rolls into your unoccupied hand. “I am certain my beloved has many a song or story that can distract from her husband's deplorable time management.”

A sizzle of an over-boiled pot pulls his attention away. You linger just long enough to see that errant lock fall back into his face once more, before you turn toward the door and hallway that will allow your return to the gentle bubble of companionship. 

You should enjoy the evening with your dearest friends, for Gale will be here tomorrow when they have left — some for Avernus, others for the Gate, and others back to lives hidden and quiet. 

When they are gone, Gale will remain, and perhaps you will learn what his newest kisses taste like. 

[ladylooch]

Strictly Pleasure - [Timo Meier]

A/N: So color me stunned when I went to the roster of Team Switzerland in 2019 and did not in fact see Timo on it……. Because the Sharks were in the playoffs…. LMAO But you know my entire AU timeline is built on 2019 so we go with it. As promised, the full fic for our unanimous poll winners 🥹

As a warning, I literally was clawing my fingernails into the bench seat editing this morning. Holy fuck. Apparently I was feeling extra smutty this weekend.....

Word Count: 4.3k

The coolness of my white wine glass chills my palm while I bring the liquid to my lips. I take a sip, lips curling up in appreciation of both the wine and the stunning sunset before my eyes. I sit on the patio of a cafe in Bratislava, Slovakia awaiting the arrival of my little brother. I am the only member of my family who has been able to make it over to Slovakia in time to see him compete for our country at the IIHF World Championships. His previous international experience has been at the U18 level, but this year he is competing in the big leagues. We are so proud of him and I feel honored to have the flexibility to see him live his dream this week.

Crowds from various countries line the streets of the capital city, surrounding Ondrej Nepela Arena. Various teams are represented- the three crowns of Sweden, the lion of Finland and one man with the red and white of my home country. I smile at the familiar crest on his chest. He wanders down the sidewalk with sunglasses on, hair perfectly styled in a swoop to the left. Mirrored aviators hide his upward gaze to the awning that spells out the restaurant. He flips his sunglasses up, looking down at his phone, then at the name of the restaurant again. Once confirming, he puts his phone back in his pocket, then stalls his footsteps at the podium explaining the menu options for tonight.

“Go Swiss!” I cheer in my native language at him. He looks up from where he had been studying the menu, nodding in my direction. 

“You from?”

“Yes.”

“Me too.”

“I assumed so. You have the accent.” 

“You… kind of do?” He chuckles, questioning. His head tilts to the side slightly, thick eyebrows pulling lower over his eyes. “Where are you from?”

“Close to Bern.”

“Ah… that southern dialect can be troublesome.”

“Maybe you just haven’t heard it enough. Should get out of the big city.” He quirks an eyebrow. “Zurich. Clearly.”

“St. Gallen.”

“Same difference.” 

“Okay.” He chuckles, shifting as he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “This place any good?”

“Wine is good.” I cheers my glass in the air at him. “But other than that, I don’t know. My brother picked the place.”

“Yeah, I am meeting someone here too.” 

“Would you like to wait with me? I can buy you a drink.” For some reason, he laughs. 

“Buy me a drink?” He nods. “Sure, if your boyfriend won’t mind?”

“No boyfriend. I’m sure your girlfriend will not be much longer though?”

“No girlfriend. If I did, sitting next to a beautiful Swiss woman would likely get me into big trouble.” He murmurs, reaching for the back of the empty chair across from me. As he pulls it out, my brother comes hustling up next to us.

“Oh great! You did get my text about Timo joining us. I’m glad you found each other.” We both pause, connecting the pieces of who we are to each other. I would not have pegged him as a hockey player. He presents so different from the others I have interacted with over my brother’s playing career. “Timo, this is my older sister Emma.”

“Nice to meet you.” He murmurs as he shakes my hand. Our hands fit perfectly together in a polite shake. His fingers drag along every inch of my palm as he pulls his hand back, creating an electric jolt up my arm.

“Yeah…” I trail off, answering my brother. I gulp down a sip of wine. “He was easy to spot.” Nico grins as I stand, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “Hi.” I haven’t seen Nico for a few weeks. He came home to Switzerland after his season ended, but was running off with all his friends with his new found freedom.

“I am glad you could make it. Mama and Papa are coming tomorrow?”

“Yes, it was the earliest they could get here. I was able to get on a flight from my conference in Berlin.” 

“Good. More time together.” I laugh, glancing at Timo who studies the menu across from me.

“Seemed you liked the way the last few weeks were.” I murmur. “Your big sister always coming in last.”

“I’m sorry.” Nico sighs regretfully.

“It’s okay. As per usual, your time is pulled in every single direction.” 

“Yes, but you’re important to me. I’ll do better.”

“Good! You can start by buying me dinner. You make the big bucks now!” 

“Yeah, you can buy mine too. You make 1st overall money. I’m slumming it down at 9.” Timo and I share a look, chuckling together at Nico’s red, embarrassed cheeks.

“With a flick of a pen, you instantly made more money than your sister has her entire career. You can buy my dinner.” I pile on.

“Stop.” Nico shakes his head with a shy smile. “I will buy you dinner because I love you and that’s it.” I shake my head, looking over at Timo.

“Nico always has to be so sweet to make me feel bad for teasing him.”

“You need to get meaner Nico.” Timo laughs. “Your sister is more intimidating than you.” I scoff at him, then smirk.

“Certified man eater.” I confirm. “You better be careful.” He sucks his cheeks in for a moment, scanning his eyes along my body. Then he shakes his head.

“I like a challenge.” He winks. I pause, recognizing his interest, sliding my gaze over to my little brother who seems to be contemplating between two entrees. I lick a drop of wine off my lips after taking a sip. Timo’s blue eyes stay there, then fall back down to the menu in front of me.

The rest of dinner, these small, wordless interactions happen. He brushes my hand while handing me back my filled water glass. We steal looks at each other whenever Nico isn’t looking. Most of the conversation is driven by us towards each other. Nico seems content to listen, happy to see us getting along so well after inviting a stranger to sibling bonding. I am thankful he did. Timo and I are vibing, conversing and joking like we have known each other for years, not less than two hours. 

Nico pays the bill, making a huge show of treating us with his black Amex. 

“Flaunting your wealth is tacky Nico.” I scold. He scoffs at me, waving me up out of my seat. I toss my arm around his shoulder, pulling him in for a forced hug. “I love you. Thank you.”

“I love you, buddy! Thank you!” Timo says too, coming in to the other side so Nico is sandwiched between us. I giggle hard, tilting my head back towards the dark sky while doing so. Timo’s hands grip my sides as we squeeze Nico harder. I fold my fingers over his arms too, feeling the soft material of his sweatshirt. When I open my eyes all I can see is Timo. His beautiful blue eyes sparkling with joy. His big smile and scrunched nose indicating how much fun he is having with us.

“I could use another drink.” I hear myself say to him directly. He nods immediately, releasing from our packed hug.

“We have a bar in our hotel. Are you staying there too?” Timo asks casually.

“Oh! Yes! Let’s go.” I exclaim. “Neeks?”

“Maybe. I’m tired, but I’ll see how I feel when we get there.” 

“Okay.” I shrug. No offense to Nico, but I wouldn’t be disappointed if he didn’t come.

“How are we feeling about the game tomorrow?” I ask the boys as we walk the cobblestone walk way. 

“Good. We’ll get it done.” Timo says confidently. Nico echos that though a yawn.

His yawning continues through our first round of drinks until he is almost falling asleep sitting up in his chair where we sit at a space in the bar, backing up to the lobby.

“Nico, just go to bed.” I chuckle.

“Yeah I am going to head there.” Nico sighs after a yawn. He looks over at me. “You too?” I bite my lip, shaking my head. 

“I’m not tired. I stay up late for a living.” Nico shrugs his shoulders. “Goodnight.” He stands up.

“Goodnight baby brother.” I tease him as he heads across the lobby to the elevators. “Sleepy good!” I take a sip of my wine, then settle my brown eyes on Timo who still watches with those interested eyes. “Are you tired?” I wonder.

“No.” He says then takes a sip of his drink. “A lot more interesting things are happening down here than in mine and Fiala’s room.” A shiver runs from the base of my neck down my spine pulling my chest tight with flattery. 

“You like to stay up late?”

“Mhm.” He answers around another sip of his drink. He licks at his top teeth afterwards, bringing my eyes back to his lips. “Kinda have to in this job. What do you do?”

“I own an event planning business.” 

“Oh fancy, Ms. Entrepreneur.” 

“I went to college and everything.”

“Impressive. Maybe I should hire you to run my charity golf tournament.”

“I could do that. But it depends.”

“On?”

“What happens between us tonight.” A slow and sexual grin rolls across his lips. He likes my boldness. My heart fluters excitedly in my chest. I love this part, getting gorgeous and powerful men to give into what has been brewing between us. “I have a strict line between business and pleasure. I’m sure you can understand that in your line of work.” Timo nods, looking lost in a previous mistake. 

“That is fair.” He tilts his head. A few teammates walk through the lobby, shouting a hello at Timo. He gives a brief wave, then focuses back on me.

“Any chance I could convince you to go somewhere private to discuss further your personal and professional qualifications?” There is nothing professional about his request.

“Where would you suggest?”

“Maybe your room?” I pretend to contemplate, leaning back in my chair while studying him with scrutiny. 

“What would we do there?” I ask him, dragging out the vowels in my words. I slowly run my tongue along my lips, gathering his attention there.

“You can tease me some more with that mouth.” 

Forward. Bold. Going in for the kill, just like I hoped. 

“Our drinks?” He pulls his wallet out, tossing cash onto the table. He stuffs his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans and stands. He holds his hand out for me. I stare at the warm, welcoming skin of his palm. I know what taking that hand means. I know this is dangerous territory, but Timo is a temporary teammate of my brother. It’s not like he is in New Jersey with him full time.

I slide my fingers gently into his hand, then clasp it as he lifts me into a standing position. He weaves our fingers together, palms cupping each other as we walk silently to the elevator. He pulls me in behind him, then turns expectantly at me.

“Four.” I tell him. He presses the button and the doors close. 

“You do this often?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Plenty.” His eyes drag ravenously from my face down my body. He nods in surprised appreciation. “I won’t tell you I love you after, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He chuckles. 

“You look harder to get than that. What are the rules?” He asks as he turns towards me. His hand drops mine, so he can pull my hips flush with his. My eyes flutter at what I feel. Big. Hard. Ready. 

“Wrap it up. Don’t you dare finish before me. No butt stuff. And…” I insist, stepping closer. “Nico never knows.” My foot goes between his, rubbing my thigh against his zipper. He exhales a little heavier, hinting at the desire building in his body. The elevator doors open and we step out. I lead the way, sliding the key through and pushing the door open. I walk in first again. He shuts the door behind us then crosses the slim space between us. He whips me around by my wrist, crowding my space immediately. My heartbeat skyrockets in dangerous and needy passion.

“Anything else?” He asks, sliding a hand to the side of my neck. He holds it tight, thumb stroking my cheek. His blue eyes are fierce, ready for whatever waits for us on the other side of my answer. 

“What are yours?”

“I don’t want anything serious. You understand that?” He strokes my cheek as he says it as if to soften the blow. He’s clearly had this conversation before with other women. He’ll figure out I’m not like them soon enough.

“Completely.”

“Are you on the pill?” 

“Yes.” I laugh. “Are we going to fuck now or keep playing 20 questions?” I slide my hand down to the button on his pants. He laughs too, pausing as he bites his bottom lip. 

“What are your thoughts on cuddling?”

“Hell no.”

“My kinda girl.” He whispers then closes the gap between our faces.

His lips on mine create an explosion that rocks me to my core. I exhale into his mouth in a moan. He runs his hand through my hair then down my body. It wraps around my waist and he lifts, practically tossing me up onto the hotel desk. The lamp shade rattles against the wall. His hands come to my shirt, lifting. Our lips part for a moment, then reconnect with tongues. Wetness pools in my panties, almost soaking them through. 

One of his hands comes up to my breast, squeezing it, then finding my nipple and thumbing it over my bra. I sigh happily into his mouth, then fist his shirt in my hand. His shirt joins mine on the floor, then I reach for the button on his pants. It snaps apart easily. I jerk his zipper down until it’s completely open. His cock is hot and seeping in his underwear. I pull back from his mouth, looking down as he unclasps my bra. The straps slack along my arms. He pulls them the rest of the way off, then takes me in. 

“Beautiful.” He mumbles, tugging my hips so I slide closer to him on the desk top. “So, so beautiful.” He repeats against the warm skin of my chest. His lips kiss down vertically, until he gets to a tight nipple. He makes eye contact with me as he sucks it into his mouth. His tongue strokes upwards too, making my jaw unhinge for a moment. “You had so much to say earlier, now you’re quiet? Gonna have to change that.” He whispers, then sucks my nipple deep into his mouth, working it over, sending darts of pleasure to my clit. It aches to be touched, missing out on his skilled mouth and fingers. 

“Oh.” I pant. He smirks into my breast.

My fingers find the waistband of his underwear, tugging it back from his skin so his cock rises to rest on his belly. His red tip is oozing down the edge of his head. I bite my lip, then my head knocks back into the lamp as his tongue strokes my other nipple into submission.

Fuck, this is incredible. He knows exactly what he is doing. When to push, when to pull away, how to tease and reward. He will be worth any future punishment. My hands shove at the waistbands of his bottom layers until they work down his strong hips. He steps out of them, grabbing a condom in his jean pocket, then kicks them off to the side. I lean back on one palm grinning. He lets me take him in, every delicious curve and edge of his muscular body made perfect from hockey and hard work. His big hands cup my breasts, rolling his thumbs over the stiff peaks in unison. 

“Oh that feels sooo good.” I moan appreciatively. I run my free hand through my hair. He watches my face, playing with me more until I am embarrassingly close to coming without him even being inside of me. “I need you to fill me up.”I demand breathlessly. He bites his lip.

“You’re so fucking sexy. You can tell me what to do all night, Emma.” 

“Just call me Em.” I laugh. “Emma is so formal.” 

“Whatever you want, babe.” 

He unbuttons my jeans, then pulls them off my legs. He admires my black, lace panties, seeing the creamy wetness pooling there just for him, then he works them off my body so we are both naked. He picks me up, setting me to the very edge of the desk, then he hands me the condom. I rip the package open with my teeth, gripping the tip, before easing it down his shaft. His eyes close and he sways slightly forward at my hands on him.

He crowds my space, our breath combining together, still smelling like the minimal alcohol we had tonight. One hand goes to my left hip, then the other goes to grip his shaft. He rolls his head through my folds, collecting my soaking juices before he nestles his head at my entrance. Together, we watch him disappear between my swollen lips. He lets out a shaky exhale. He grabs my wrists, putting them on his shoulders, then he lifts me slightly up off the desk, beginning to pump into my pussy. 

Tingling explosions burst out down my body. Gooseflesh covers my arms and legs as I take each hard thrust with enthusiastic greed. I kiss along his jaw, grinning at the way I jerk in his arms with each pump. He isn’t handling me like a fragile doll, he is fucking me just like I knew he would. Hard, fast, deep, showing he was built with power and strength for a reason.

“Fuck, Em, your pussy is so good.” He growls into my neck. The sound of skin slapping together increases, becoming disgustingly obvious in the room as he rocks hard into me. “So wet and tight.” He hisses through gritted teeth. My nose bumps into his jaw as I moan on his throat. He turns his face, capturing my lips then fucking up harder and faster into me. My whole body goes tight and rigid, then I fall into my orgasm. Timo fucks me through it, not wavering in his thrusts at all until I collapse onto his chest in surrender. He slows then, kissing my neck as he takes me to the bed. He lays me down, then work himself out of me. I look down at the condom, wondering if we are done.

“Your turn. Show me what you got, Hischier.” I laugh loudly. He sits down on the bed, then falls backwards. He takes my hand in one of his, fingers folding together, helping me maneuver to straddle his lap. I work my hair to one side, then reach behind me to grab his cock in my hand. He hums, then sighs happily as I swallow him whole in one press of my hips. Timo’s eyes literally roll back into his head as I start to move. His hands come behind his head fingers lacing together on the pillow below.

“That’s right. Just lay there princess.” I smirk, throwing my hips back on his cock. 

“Funny… gorgeous… talented… where has Nico been hiding you?”

“Practically under your nose.”

“Ah, that’s why I didn’t see it. It’s a little big.” I giggle, then set my hands on his shoulders, rolling my hips.

“Ooo. You know how to fuck.” He praises me. “So good….” He bites his lip, exhaling heavily. “Little more, gorgeous.” He encourages. I comply and he groans. “Mmmm.” His hands snap away from the back of his head. He grips my hips, feeling the roll of them on him. Then two fingers find my clit. I shutter. His other hand comes to my breast, pinching my nipple. “Fuck me until you cum.”  He whispers. I moan shakily, then keep bucking my hips down into him. When he senses I am about to release, he works his hips up in little thrusts to help me over the edge.

“Oh!” I cry out, pinching my other nipple.

He gently eases me down, pulling his feet up closer to his butt so his thighs create support for my back. I slump into them. I pant, looking at him on the pillow as he smirks. 

“Shit.” I hiss as he forces his cock up deep into me, lifting my weight with his hips like it’s nothing. 

“Doggy?” He asks, wiggling his large eyebrows. I nod eagerly.

I’ve never come so hard or had so much fun with a one night stand before. Usually, it’s awkward, bumping into each other and trying to find the right tempo. Not with Timo. It truly feels like we were made for each other. Gone is the insecure way I try to move my body so my partner can see the best angles. Usually, I stay away from doggy. But I am desperate to feel the hard slapping of his balls against my clit. 

We both stand. Timo kisses me, tongues flirting within my mouth. Our lips are puffy and red by the time we pull apart. He twists my hips, working his cock between my legs as I bend over in front of him. He lines his latex covered head with my entrance, then pulls me back on his dick. We both groan loudly this time, appreciating the stretch and arousal of each other. 

“Gonna be dreaming about this pussy tonight.” He groans, starting to buck his hips again. The delicious slapping has me deliriously groping the bed sheets. His thick cock crams into me thrust after thrust, feeling like he is rearranging my internal organs. A big hand comes to the back of my neck, forcing me down. I groan loudly, shrieking an inhale at how good this angle feels. 

“Please.” I hear myself beg.

“Please what, baby?”

“Please make me cum. Please. More. Um! That! Yeah!” I yelp out as his hips snap harder into me. My ass shakes with his powerful thrusts. I turn my face into the comforter, then scream hard into it as a powerful orgasm grips my core and turns me inside out. 

“Fuck… I’m gonna cum. Feels so fucking good when you cum.” I shake against his thighs as he finishes in the condom. His hand releases from the back of my neck. He grips the edge of the condom then works his way out of me. Wordlessly, he heads to the bathroom, striping himself and cleaning off. I collapse forward into the bed sheets, curling into the fetal position while my heavy breathing continues. Timo brings a towel back with him, tossing it to me. Afterwards, I throw it onto the floor while he lays back next to me in bed. 

“Good job.” I murmur, holding my hand up. He slaps it firmly, then sighs happily.

“That was amazing.” He turns to look at me when he says it. I nod, meeting his gaze. “Any chance you’re available for more of that this summer?”

“No strings?”

“No strings.” He agrees. 

“Then yeah. I’m available.” He chuckles. 

“We make a good team, tho. Damn.” He rubs a hand over his head. He turns his wrist, looking at the time on his expensive, silver watch. “I gotta go. It’s almost curfew.”

“Yeah, I want to go to sleep.” I admit, stretching out, pushing at his thigh under the covers to move him off the bed. He dramatically rolls off like I kicked him full on. I giggle as he rests his chin on the bed from the floor. His blue eyes soak me up. His hand comes up, poking at my left cheek.

“Your dimples are cute.”

“Thank you.” I murmur. 

“How long are you here?”

“Wanna see me again already?” He laughs.

“Yeah. Sex that great is rare. I want you again tomorrow.” Butterflies erupt in my stomach. I roll my bottom lip in my mouth, watching him pull his clothes back on. His last article is the Team Switzerland sweatshirt he zips up to the middle of his chest.

“Okay.” I agree. He smiles gently, then walks towards me. 

He kneels one knee on the bed, hovering over the body he wrecked tonight. He kisses me quick, then pulls away. He smells seductive and sultry, like his expensive cologne and me. 

“Sweet dreams.” He whispers.

“Goodnight.” I respond. He walks out of the room, closing the door softly during his exit.

I roll onto my back, staring up at the ceiling above me. The butterflies in my stomach expand up into my chest until it feels crammed full. I put my hand over my face, watching back the reel of the night against my black eyelids, ending with the mutual agreement of more. 

More this weekend. More even this off-season too. More, more, more because it will be months before I will have had my fill of him.

I’m not sure how we will make it all work. Sneaking around once is one thing, but doing it continuously is another.

I guess this planner is going to have to figure it out. 

Because It’s going to be a long, hot summer with Timo Meier.

More Timo and Emma can be found here.

[rottmnt-background-screenshots]

My tagging system

my other screenshot blogs

THIS BLOG IS NOW IN PHASE TWO: where I make these screenshots usable as backgrounds for your fanart!

Since I have so many posts that scrolling through everything to find exactly what you're looking for is impractical. So in no particular order, here are my tags

redrawn: Any screenshots that I (or someone else on my posts) have gone through and either edited, completely redrawn, or otherwise made more usable, falls under this tag

masterpieces: Any time I am tagged I will give your art/fics a reblog and shoutout! (Subtag of this is the Colors Of Yesterday fic I've been reblogging as it comes out)

tw: stock image: My ongoing saga of how unsettled I am at finding live action photos pasted into cartoons

april's school: It's what it says on the package.

rottmnt backdrop: For if you'd like to look at all the backgrounds without trying to find a specific place. Fair warning, I haven't put this one on as many posts as I should have.

cassandra's bedroom: I only have one post of this so far, but it's an important ref so you guys get to know it exists here.

ask/answer: Just me answering asks that I get. Mostly these are questions or requests, which I wholeheartedly welcome and look forward to!

interior: Shots of the inside of buildings mostly.

warehouse: Any building that just has the Vibe of a warehouse, even if it isn't. Just big mostly empty buildings.

rottmnt background character: not a background character like Todd, I mean characters who only show up in the background as extras. They have no names, no lines, and I have pack bonded with them.

store front: Just the front face of businesses.

rottmnt cityscape: Wide images of city scenery.

lair pics: Images of the lair

lair layout: Me slowly losing my sanity as I try to make sense of the inconsistent floor plan of the lair

expressions: References of how different facial expressions are drawn in the Rise style (sub tag: facepalm)

doom dome: I have a collection of pictures of Big Mama's demolition derby

park: pictures of parks

street: Pictures of street views.

public chaos: Shots of when something big is going down, like a city attack, general destruction, etc

future timeline: pics from the doomed timeline

new lair: Like "lair pics" but for their subway lair

kraang goo: anything al all relating to the kraang invasion

crowd: screenshots that include a lot of random people

prison dimension: The dimension that Leo locked himself in with the kraang

epf: any shots of the Earth Protection Force

rottmnt comic: shots taken from the comics

hidden city: anything in the Hidden City

rooftop: a good reference to draw characters on rooftops with

nexus auction house: Big Mama's auction house

battle nexus: pictures of not just the battle nexus arenas, but other locations in the establishment

missed details: any little tidbits i actually missed, or just screenshots of busy moments that don't get enough screen time to really analyze unless you pause (sub tag: la chancla)

run of the mill: Hueso's pizza place, both inside and outside shots

zoo: literally just pictures of the zoo

rural pics: anything where they aren't like, Completely Inside the city.

ledge: pictures of ledges, be they natural or man made

sewers: Sewer tunnels that are NOT the lair

alley: pictures of alleys

draxum's castle: this includes far away shots of his house, inside his house, and his lab

woods: generally anything from the wilderness because it's all forest

harbor: pretty much anything that includes ships, docks, or what have you

nexus hotel: The Grand Nexus Hotel, tagged separately from the Battle Nexus

mystic subway: the subway system only for the Hidden City, which exists I guess

subway: the normal, human subway system

old lot: The exterior of any building that seems mostly empty or abandoned

junkyard: Repo's place

library: for both the human and mystic librarby

laser tag: for pictures of the Lazer Dome

foot clan/foot shack: pretty much covers all the Foot pics (I'm sad that I thought of this joke now instead of when I was actually making the tags)

albeartoland: If you want theme park pictures

beach pics: I only have a few of these, but they are lovely

deleted scenes: mostly storyboards, but just anything that didn't make it into the show

turtle tots: what it says on the tin

my gRoCeRiEs!!: the Rise Cabbage Man

Yo ho ho: totally just funny sillies

Mid Bloops: I'm Mid, and sometimes I bloop. My brain is square and I am often confused.

[mechaknight-98]

Gathering CEDH edition: Once Upon Time

Author's notes: No this is not a repost. I am trying this a third time. I now have a clear understanding of What I want to do with the series. I wanted to Streamline it as an Izone/Izone's daughter group and Dreamcatcher fic. The Main characters are also a bit more refined this time around as I have figured out how they connect. I also have now consolidated a lot of the bloat the previous version had to focus on better storytelling between the characters. So sit back and Enjoy the New Version. Think of it as a Director's cut.

I entered the new Photography collective my friend Dexter asked me to join. The goal was to create a group that could help each other rise in related industries relating to Photography, film, directing, scriptwriting, producing, etc. I was unsure of the efficacy as most of us were amateurs with some experience but not much. Dexter was the most well-versed of us as he was getting cameraman jobs for several TV shows and his roommate and other member of this collective Connor was in the same boat. I was just some rando they found on social media who had an insane appetite and penitence for artistic expression in all forms I could get my hands on. so these two "extroverts" Our first meeting I learned that we were all Nexos and fans of the game Magic the Gathering. This made building a relationship that much easier as our first meeting ended up with us playing a game of Commander. Connor was a Jeskai player, and Dexter was a Temur player. Thankfully I could play anything so our games were always varied. I began to lean into Sultai a lot as it was the colors I felt were most reflective of my player mindset. it also had the highest number of my favorite creature types Ooze. (WotC if you are reading this please give me a legendary Ooze elder dragon in Sultai that becomes copies of things when attacked that would be so cool). One day after the Aespa concert we all went to Connor made a huge reveal.

Connor sat at his computer waiting for another round of historic brawl on MTGA (Magic the Gathering Arena). He was on a roll with your kinda junky “Omnath Locus of all” deck. He stepped away to grab a snack from your fridge across the hall but came clamoring, and running back when you heard the ding of a match found. It was against a person with the name Scorpion’s-love-00. He noticed the name was funny and chuckled at the beginning of the match. You did your tradition of “ggs” before the match. He focused up and eased in. She was playing a bit of a serious deck helmed by Kyodai that relied on flickering and cloning the dragon spirit numerous times so her board became almost impenetrable. The only problem she was playing against someone who thrived in unbeatable situations. For each new indestructible body she put on the field you retaliated with more interaction in the form of bouncing exile until she was tapped out and drawing empty on resources. To finish her off Connor ended with a simple draw Connor the whole deck into Thassa’s oracle. As the scene shifts to the win screen, Connor sighs a sigh of relief. The win was tough but well-earned. Connor relaxed and decided to send a friend request to Scorpion’s-Love-00. you enjoyed playing with them and thought it would be fun to play with them again. He was surprised to have the friend request not only accepted but also a message attached.

“Hey! What’s your discord?” the message read. Seeing this as Harmless He responded

“Infinite #2782” Connor responded. To his continued surprise there was another ding and a new friend request from a “Scorpio Rapper 00” He accepted and was treated to the following messages.

“wow, you kicked my butt. You must know your stuff. How long have you been playing?”

Connor smiled and responded, “I am decent, and you didn’t fare too badly yourself.”

The message that came in response read “ ;] I bet you say that to all the girls you beat.”

Connor responds “Only the nice and cute ones.”

You say the message typing and then this message you, “Aw you're so sweet. I want to take a bite out of you.”

Connor laughed and responded “Lol, Lol” and for the next few hours, he talked with Scorpion flirting and helping her with deck ideas and builds. She was adamant about sending Connor pictures through messages as when he brought up the idea of screen sharing she freaked out.

“What are you some uber famous Mega star?” he asked innocently.

Scorpion replied “Something like that. Or maybe I am disfigured and I don’t want to scare you off.”

Connor smiled at her response. She was easy to talk to and so those hours flew by. Eventually leading to Connor needing to go to sleep. So Connor explained this to Scorpion.

“Aw, but we are barely halfway through my Hinata Dawn Crown deck and I need your expertise and card knowledge.” Connor sighs and respond

“I have work early in the morning I need to go to sleep but when I am free I will shoot you some more cards and ideas," Connor said

So with this, Connor fell into a routine. He would work, go home, go to sleep, work out, and play magic in either a shop or online (Usually with Scorpion). As he does this you get to know Scorpion. She is funny, sweet, caring, and ultimately a gentle soul. She also likes K-pop which is also a plus. One of the groups she is into is Aespa right now whom Connor loves. When she asks who’s your bias and you proudly say Giselle she laughs, but she insists she is laughing at something her roommate said and not him. She still refuses to do anything showing her face but he's seen her hands after she sent a video going through a completed paper high-powered Hinata deck that she adores. Eventually, this culminates with her making a voice call out of the blue

“Hey, you’re in New York City right?” Scorpion’s pleasant voice asks

“Um yeah, why?” Connor respond hesitantly

“Well let’s meet up?” I want to see what my friend who’s helped me get better at mtg looks like.

Connor hesitates. Scorpion waits for his response until she can’t bear it

“you didn’t hang up on me did you?” Scorpion asked anxiously

“Ah no. I just wasn’t expecting you to say that. Sure I am down what day and what time?” You respond quickly

“Good, How about in two weeks? At the Empire State Building?”

“Works for me.” He responds

“Great!! see you then.” Scorpion says a bit too excitedly.

As the weeks pass Connor tries to figure out a plan and an outfit to wear to meet Scorpion. As the day gets closer however your nerves lessen. Connor figures she’s going to bail as she has always not wanted to meet face to face. That is until Connor finds himself standing at the Peer waiting for her.

Connor was stressed but had chosen a killer look and had a dope plan all figured out. It’s a little chilly so he brought a windbreaker and some gloves. To ease his mind you put on some Aespa, you found their music oddly calming and familiar at this time. While you are chilling on the peer looking around when you get a call.

“Hey, it’s scorpion what do you look like? I am having trouble finding you.” Connor gives her a bare-bones description. That is specified only by the jacket you have on. Scorpion responds “Okay I think I see you.” and she hangs up. Well, here it is the moment of truth. You stand still for a few moments until you get a tap on your shoulder. You turn around and an extremely pretty young woman is staring at you expectantly.

“Scorpion?” Connor says hesitantly.

The young lady smiles and responds “ Yes I knew it was you!! but call me Aeri. Since that's my name. What about you” Connor laughs heavily, still starstruck that his mtg partner is a world-famous musician.

"Hello, earth to InFinite." Aeri laughed. Connor came out of his stupor to respond

"Connor Sun-won Kang." Connor stammers

"Wait Are you Korean?" Aeri asks

"half my mom was Welsh American...I think. I was adopted and only know what my "mom" told me about them." Connor explains

“Okay got it, and I am Aeri,” Aeri said

"I know but I am sure that's not what other people call you."

Aeri smiles as she responds. “No, but you’re not most people. Now are you?” she links his arm with hers and she says “Now let’s hurry I don’t have much time.” so begins the impromptu date with Aeri. The duo grab a bite to eat and then go through various rides and attractions on the island. As the date winds down the two find themselves in a taxi Connor looks at her still in shock. The rapper of Aespa and his bias Giselle was sitting across from you. All because he met her playing mtg.

“What?” she said “Do I have some ice cream still on my face?”

He shook his head and responded, “No you're just kinda prettier in person is all.” Aeri blushed.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she responds

“Aw, I bet you say that to all the boys you meet?”Connor teased.

Aeri laughs and responds. “Only the cute and nice ones. Lucky for you. You're both.” Connor tries to find things to talk about that aren’t magic but it does often get back to that. Aeri is hooked on the game and she picks Connor's brain for a thousand and one ideas.

“oh, I won my first commander night. The week before we flew out.” Aeri said with pride. “Guess which card you suggested cinched the game?”

he thought for a moment then responded “Aurelia’s fury”

Aeri nodded surprised. “I am impressed you do know your stuff, but I’d expect nothing less from the guy who’s been beating me up relentlessly over the past few months.”

You sigh and say “Well I have also been trying to encourage you as well. You are an excellent player and a very quick study, Plus that's how I learned from My roommate.”

Aeri smiled softly. “So when does that mean I can go against your paper deck?”

You wheezed at Aerie’s question, “Um yeah I don’t think you’re ready.” you said trying to catch your breath.” Aeri smiled.

“Why not?” She said innocently “I have some tricks up my sleeve you know.” You blink rapidly as flashes of numerous counter-spell wars and free interaction flash through your head from the games you played against Nathaniel your roommate.

“Uh yeah okay. Sure next time I see you I will bring my deck and we will play together one-on-one.” You respond slightly shell-shocked. smiles and claps

“So after the concert?” Aeri asks. Connor blinks again remembering and now cursing yourself how excited he was to be going to see Aespa. He is trying to figure a way to wiggle himself out of this until Aeri says, “What are you scared I’ll beat you?” Hearing that flips his hesitation and apprehension into bravado and completely earned confidence.

“Yeah definitely,” Connor announces sardonically. Aeri noticed the change in demeanor and smiled at him.

"there he is. My confident and passionate sparring partner." Aeri teases

After this Connor and Aeri part ways for the night. When he gets back home you stress out as you get a text from Aeri.

“Here’s the address to our hotel I look forward to beating you After the concert. ;]” You sighed and got two of your decks ready to face off against Aeri. looks like you wouldn’t be holding back.

Two days later was the concert. Connor had a great time. Aespa did fantastic as always and even though Connor wasn’t close to the stage at all he could have sworn Aeri locked eyes with him a few times but he ignored it and just focused on enjoying the music. He was elated to hear their songs especially "Hold On Tight" since it was his favorite song by the group. ( I like the more metal-sounding girls but hey to each their own) Thankfully the mix was good too.

As the concert winded down he thought for sure that Aeri locked eyes with him and winked, but again it was probably all imagination. After the concert, He made his way to the hotel. When he arrived he stayed in the lobby for a few minutes decks, and play-mat in hand. after a few more minutes there was a tap on his shoulder.

“Infinite?” An unfamiliar voice said. Connor turned to see Minejeong aka Winter.

"Winter?" Connor questioned

"Were you expecting someone else? Well sorry to disappoint. Also, call me Minjeong you are too close to us to use that name." Minjeong said

She smiled when she saw him. Connor followed her to her room. She was dressed plainly in an oversized t-shirt and baggy sweats. She grabbed him and said, “Come on before someone sees you.” Connor puts his hoodie up to obscure his face and when you get to the elevator Minjeong looks at him “Oh I see put the hoodie on and cover your face. I like it.” Connor smiled at his friend

“Don’t want any dating rumors.” Connor replies “You need to keep your image after all.” he adds

Minjeong smiled, “Ah what a gentleman, but that won’t get you mercy.” Connor laughs at Minjeong’s taunt.

"Um if you don't mind me asking where is Aeri?" Connor asks

"Oh, Aeri Unnie still needed to shower and do...What did she say deck edits." Minjeog stammers

"Oh deck edits," Connor Suggests

"Yeah, that," Minjeong confirms

"Fair" Connor nods

When Connor arrived at Aeri and Minjeong's room you were surprised to see the other members all chilling. Ningning was the first to acknowledge you “Oh is this him?” Aeri nodded. Ningning stared at you with confusion, “I thought he would be taller, but you're right h, He's super cute.” she said, in between bursts of laughter. You set your decks down and unfurl your play mat on the nearby table across from Aeri’s deck box which was littered with various stickers. Connor took out yours and Winter sighed.

“Giselle please don’t get mad and scream when he beats you,” Winter said

Aeri smiled and said “Oh I would never besides. He is the one going to lose tonight.” he held his tongue which Karina noticed. She had been watching him the whole time you had entered not saying a word.

“Is there something you want to say?” Karina asked pointedly. Connor steepled and shook his head. he cracked open his deck box and set his commander down.

“Oh, I haven’t seen this card,” Aeri said as she gently grabbed your commander. “Narset Enlightened Exile. she’s cute.” Aeri said. Connor laughed as he spaced out thinking about all of the games he'd played with this deck and the trouble, Aeri was in for.

“What was that about?” Their leader Karina asked, “You spaced out”

”Oh it’s nothing.” He responds

Connor shuffles his library and hands it over to Aeri. She in turn hands him hers and he cuts it. She cuts yours. Connor gets his starting hand and wince. An OG Dual land fast mana, a free counterspell, and early plays. “Um you can go first,” Connor says to Aeri. The other members have circled her. She starts by playing a Shock land and playing Esper Sentinel. “Okay untap upkeep draw,” he says. Connor plays a scalding tarn (He had Tundra in hand) and fetches for a Volcanic island he grabs it, and plays it then taps the volcanic island for a ragavan, nimble pilferer. After that, you play Mana Crypt and Mox Opal. after all of that Aeri looks at you

“Um, what was that?” Aeri said dumbfounded.

Feeling confident you say “What never seen an og dual or a turn one mana crypt before?” Aeri shook her head

“Unnie I think you’re in trouble,” Ningning said. Connor nods. After that Aeri played another land, a sol ring, and a rhystic study.

“You like your tax effects huh?” Connor asked Aeri

Aeri nodded, “I need to keep up somehow how "Mr. I am playing cards I have never heard of before." I just thought it was going to be Ruhan and not all of this.”

Connor smiled and responded, “Well It could be worse.”

Aeri looked at him with apprehension, “How?”

“Well I didn’t open up turn one Narset,” Connor explains.

“how would that be worse,” she asks.

“You’ll see,” Connor says as she passes. He draws his card for a turn and sighs. Connor plays chrome mox pitching whirlwind of thought and a Tundra to play his commander. He swings Ragavan at Aeri. She doesn't block. Ragavan triggers and gets a red elemental blast from Aeri. he uses the treasure and it from Ragavan to destroy Rhystic study.

Aeri sees this and says“Wait what?" in Connor's mind the game is over, but Aeri thinks it’s only begun. that changes two turns later when Connor countered her commander twice and swung at her for another 15 damage. She looks at Connor with awe and silent terror. Winter is laughing hysterically. After conceding Aeri says to him, “Well that was unexpected.”

Connor laughs, "Next time I will play something a bit more your speed." He comforts Aeri in the meantime

Winter laughs jovially before saying “And you doing all that trash talk.” She looks to Connor (the only American in the room) to confirm She used the right phrase. he nods, and Winter smiles. Aeri is still surprised.

“You know your stuff.” She said. You nod at her as she tries to recover.

After that beatdown, Aeri sits next to Connor and converses with the rest of the Aespa members. They learn he is a cameraman for various events and a few indie darlings movies. They Also Learn he is adopted. He shows them some of his work and Karina especially takes interest.

“Oh I love the angles you get they are so dynamic,” Karina says intrigued Connor smile

“Thanks, Karina.” Connor say meekly

She looks at Connor with a smile and says “You’re welcome and don’t be so stressed we’re friends now.” he tries to relax at her words. As Connor shows them more stuff they warm up to him more and more. Eventually, the group looks up and it's 2 in the morning and you Connor is exhausted. He looks at his friends and says, “I gotta go to sleep but we can talk later.” They all nod. As he walks out Aeri follows him to the door. When outside she smiles at Connor

She kisses Connor's cheek and says “Thanks for giving me a great time.” he smiles and walks away.

A few days later at the Photography club Connor, Dexter, and I were a part of he told us what he did over the weekend. I believed every word while Dexter was more suspicious.

"So you want me to believe you just met one of your biggest idol crushes? who also plays MTG," Dexter questioned. I groaned

"Dex that is literally what he just said," I respond

"I know man but that's crazy that you just befriended Aespa like that," Dexter replied still skeptical. I look at him confused and ask

"Would you have rather Scorpion be a serial killer that's zodiac-themed? Or worse a Yandere who would steal our boy, and we have to fight to save,"

"Ugh Hiro you and your imagination need to calm down," Connor replied.

I laughed before saying, Come on dude. We are just having fun,"

Connor and Dexter roll their eyes, as we head to a Karaoke house at the request of Dexter at the end of our meeting. While there Connor gets a face time Call from Giselle.

"Hey Can you come to Korea for a few days," she asks

[offside-the-lines]

tell me who i run to (if not you) | anthony beauvillier | Ep 3. Pal-entine's Day

This is a completed series! Read Full Fic | 🧸 Series Cover Page/Masterlist 🧁 | 🎵 Playlist 🎶 << Previous Episode || Ep 3 || Next Epissode>>

Episode synopsis:Tito returns her kindness by being a shoulder Evie can lean on when she is having a hard time after all-star break. She tells him it’s anxiety about work. He brings her a box of pastries and they cuddle on the couch all day; he doesn’t realize it’s Valentine’s Day. Later, a hook-up goes very wrong.

A/N: You can refer to cover page for the series summary, author's notes, tropes, general warnings and other fun tidbits. This series contains mature themes. Minors DNI. Warnings: This episode contains mentions of a past toxic relationship and sex that occurs off screen. Disclaimer: This series is set in Chicago but does not mention the name of the team.

Word count: 4.8k // 44.5k

Requests (open) | Masterlist & Who I Write For | Join My Taglistist

Pal-entine’s Day

Evie — February 10

It’s late when Evie finishes work for the day. She rubs her eyes and finishes her cup of tea, which is now less than lukewarm. She sighs. This was kind of her own doing. She didn’t work as much as she should’ve in January, especially in the week that Tito stayed over, which means she’s feeling more behind than she would like them to be. Not to mention, this latest work she was editing was full of so many glaring issues that the document has more comments than text at this point.

She puts her phone down and rests her head on the table. 

She doesn’t regret it. Tito had been clearly so down in the dumps after his wrist injury. She had taken him to the different museums, touristy sights, and fun restaurants around town that she had been meaning to get to; she had thought that she would catch up on her work when he was in Florida with his brother’s family during Bye Week. 

She doesn’t regret it because their adventures brightened his mood every time, his glowing smile seared on the inside of her eyelids. She thinks about the time she had taken him to the Skating Ribbon in Maggie Daley Park on a particularly bad day. 

He had come back from the rink dejected after being told he couldn’t join no-contact practice yet. He had been cleared to skate, though. So, the joy on his face when he stepped onto the ice again, even if it was a park and not an NHL arena, made them both feel a hundred pounds lighter.

She doesn’t regret it. It’s just that— Unfortunately, her plan to catch up on work during Bye Week didn't happen. The day after Tito left for Florida, her apartment felt startlingly empty. 

It reminded her of when she had first moved to Chicago. She had just a couple of boxes and suitcases. She left behind all the remnants of her life with Pierre. Those plates, pillows, and knickknacks didn’t feel like they belonged in her life anymore. That’s why she moved, right? To get a clean start at age 28. 

It wasn’t just stuff she had left behind. It was her whole life, a life that had looked increasingly foreign in those final months anyway. All of their friends, all of their stuff, all of their memories. He could keep them. She just wanted out.

Those first months in Chicago had felt so lonely, living without anyone else for the first time ever. It was hard to make friends in a new city, so she spent a lot of time just in her apartment. The thought kept creeping into her head that she would probably be alone forever and regret leaving her seemingly perfect relationship behind in Toronto. 

She downloaded and deleted Bumble probably ten times in the first few months.

Eventually, she met Kelsey, Leanne, and the others at a work-sponsored holiday party. They were unhappy that she hadn’t reached out sooner. So, with them dragging her out of her house a few times a week to whatever restaurant, bar, or event, she eventually settled into life in Chicago. Looking back, she’s not quite sure when her one-bedroom apartment started to feel like home.

That's why she’s so shocked to find herself once again feeling unsettled. Her sleep hasn’t been great either, making her sluggish and heavy. In the week or so since Tito left for Florida, she has only left her house twice. Both of them were to see him play when he returned to the lineup after the All-Star break. 

When she looks around her apartment, she can see the small pile of his clothes that sits at the far end of the couch. She had washed them while he was away and folded them so they would be clean when he came back. 

That was a week ago. 

She’s happy that he’s back at training and back in the line-up. She appreciates the rigorous schedule that he's sticking to to get back to the top of his game. 

She understands that means she takes a back seat. It’s just that she wishes a little part of her didn’t resent it or herself for missing his company that she didn’t know she had gotten so used to.

She doesn’t pester him, though, not when he was on vacation and not now that he’s been back training. He still texts her every day, and she tries not to get too excited when he does, being mindful to not be too suffocating and demanding of his time and attention.

She figures it’s probably not a bad idea to realign her priorities: to focus on her work and on the book that she wants to finally finish soon.

Tito — February 14

Tito watches as the sky begins to lighten and decides to just give up on going back to sleep. He reaches over and checks his phone. 

5:48 am. 

Great. 

He unlocks his phone, which opens to the text thread with Evie he had been staring at after the game last night.

Monday, 4:46 pm evie 🧁: sorry, i don’t think i’ll be coming to the game tomorrow. i’m just totally under water with work right now. To evie 🧁: damn, that sucks. i’m sorry. do you want me to come over with some dinner tonight? To evie 🧁: or after the game tomorrow?

He didn’t receive a reply until past midnight that night.

Yesterday, 1:18 am evie 🧁: nah, it’s okay To evie 🧁: good morning to you too. how're you doing? work hasn’t killed you right? i can bring over some lunch. i bet you havent been eating much. Read

He quickly swipes out of his messages and locks his phone again. 

He stares out the window. They have only known each other for less than two months, but not hearing from Evie for so long throws him off-kilter.

This is so unusual, given their typical rhythm, that even if work has been busy, he’s worried, and underneath the worry, he’s confused. It seemed unlike Evie to not be open with him about whatever was bothering her— at least, he thought she was.

A little while later, he finds himself sitting in front of her favorite bakery on his way to her apartment. He waits for the clock to hit 9 a.m. before he heads in and picks up breakfast for them both: a selection of pastries and two coffees. It’s busier than he expects, but there are still plenty of their favorites left. 

He’s been to Evie’s building enough times now that the doorman recognizes him and buzzes him up the elevator straight away with a nod. It’s only when he's standing outside her door that he realizes he should've probably texted beforehand to make sure she was free.

Too late now. Tito rings her doorbell, his heart in his throat as he listens for any sound inside.

Somewhere between 30 seconds and 10 minutes later, he hears some shuffling, and the door opens slowly. Standing in the entryway is Evie rubbing her eyes with the sleeve of his Canucks hoodie, sleep shorts barely peaking out under the hem. He rips his eyes away from the soft skin of her legs. 

She startles when she sees him, her eyes wide. Her messy hair and fuzzy slippers only intensify the warm fondness buzzing in his chest.

“Um, hi,” she says, stepping aside to wave him in. “What’s all this?”

“Nice hoodie,” he beams at her, a crooked smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

“What?” She looks down and immediately covers her face with her hands. “Oh shit, this is yours. I was just grabbing the first hoodie I saw, and it was sitting on my— I’m sorry, do you want it back? I can go change.”

“Hey,” he says gently, setting the food down on the kitchen counter. “No, keep it on. I can’t really wear it out anymore, and it looks good on you.”

She cracks a smile for the first time this morning.

“Here, I brought you some breakfast and coffee— peppermint mocha, half sweet, with oat milk. I figured you might need something stronger with all the late nights you’ve been working.”

She stares at him silently for a long time before reaching for the coffee and whispering a quiet, “Thanks.”

He smiles at her and pulls her in for a quick hug, feeling some of the tightness in his chest melt away as he breathes in her scent. As he pulls back, he waves her to the couch.

“Go, sit.” He pushes her gently. “I’ll bring over the food.”

As if on cue, her stomach grumbles. “What did you get? Oh! Oooh! Good Ambler. My favorite,” she says excitedly, finally looking more like herself.

He smiles to himself as he puts the food down on the coffee table. “Yeah, I know! I got us the quiche and a bunch of their pastries.” He opens the box and watches as her eyes light up.

She laughs, “Wow, you really went all out.” 

“I guess I did,” he shrugs.

They eat in a comfortable silence for a while, both deep in thought. It’s been a few days since Tito has set foot in her apartment. He feels more at home here than in his own place. There are touches of Evie everywhere. 

She has shelves next to the TV console that are covered in books. There are at least five more books spread around the room. Her fuzzy blanket is draped across the back of the couch. There are candles on her coffee table, sitting next to colorful coasters with bad book puns on them. Unhung art and posters are leaning against the bottom of the walls. The space is so clearly lived in and loved.

Although, as he looks around, he can see the signs that things might be a bit off. There are dirty dishes piled up in the sink when there usually wouldn’t be any. There are stacks of papers spread across various surfaces. A box next to the bin for the overflowing trash. He counts at least seven mugs of mostly drunk tea around the space.

He frowns.

“So,” he starts cautiously, “how've you been?” He winces at how awkward that sounds.

“Oh, you know. Same old, same old. Busy? I guess mainly.” She stares at the muffin in her hands, pointedly avoiding his skeptical expression.

He sighs and reaches over, his broad hand lightly covering her wrist. “Hey, I feel like something has been off recently, and I want to know what’s going on. Is it just work that’s been crazy? Or is there something else?”

Evie looks up at him finally; their eyes meet, both assessing the other. He can see the dark circles that dull her tired eyes, her expression pained.

“Yeah, I’ve just been having trouble getting stuff done. But it’s not a big deal. It’s fine, though. I can handle it.” She frowns and picks at the remaining half of the muffin. 

“Hey,” Tito says gently. He reaches out, takes the muffin, and puts it down before taking her hands in his. The movement makes them turn to each other. “It’s okay if you’re struggling. Just tell me how I can help. I won’t judge you, okay?”

She shakes her head, tugging her hands back and hugging them to her body. “Yeah, I know, but I’m okay. I don’t want to be a pain—”

“Evie,” he says gently, “Asking for help doesn’t make you a pain. Look, we’re friends, right? You were there for me last month when I was having a really bad time. And now I want to be here for you. You should let me help where I can. Or at least tell me what’s wrong. I can’t guarantee I’ll always say or do the right thing, but I’ll listen, and I’ll try to help where I can, okay?”

She looks at him, searching his face for a lie and not finding one in his open and caring expression. “Okay,” she whispers with a small smile.

“Okay.”

He hands her back her muffin, and they finish up their breakfast. He takes their trash to the kitchen, and despite her complaints, he does the dishes as he makes them both a cup of tea.

When he sits back down on the couch, he finally speaks again, “So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong? Or at least, if there’s anything I can do to help?”

She heaves a big sigh but does smile at him warmly before settling into the couch. “I guess I just had a kinda bad week last week? I'm kinda behind on stuff, and I got really in my head about it. Remember how I told you I moved here after a bad breakup? Well…” She shrugs.

“You don’t need to explain if you don’t want to. I know it sucks. I mean, I haven’t dated anyone seriously since before the pandemic. But we actually broke up like January 2020, so those first few months in lockdown were really rough. Just bad feelings and a whole lot of time.” 

She looks up at him, “Oh. I had no idea.”

“It’s not a big deal. That was quite a few years ago at this point, anyway. I’m over it now, but— I’m just saying that I know it can be hard.”

“Yeah,” she nods, fiddling with her mug before finally saying, “Honestly, I’m not that bummed about the breakup. It wasn’t bad or anything. Or at least nothing bad happened. Things just sort of just… I don’t know. I was just feeling like shit all the time.

“By the time I left, I had already been mentally checked out for a while, so I wasn’t really sad at all anymore. It was mainly hard because our lives were so entwined. 

“We had gone to grad school together, and we were working at the same company. We had all the same friends, and everyone loved him, you know? So, it was hard to leave that behind.”

He reaches out and squeezes her knee, encouraging her to keep talking.

“It’s just… I hate it, feeling like I’m falling behind.”

“Like on work?”

She nods weakly.

“Well, if it’s anything I’ve had to learn in my career, you’re more than your productivity. You don’t need to be perfectly productive all the time to be contributing something.”

“Yeah… it’s just that—” Evie sighs.

“What?”

She swallows heavily and looks out the window. “It’s just that… I hate feeling behind at work because it makes me feel like I’m behind on my career. And that’s really all I have right now. After— Like, I’m 28 years old, and what do I have to show for it.”

He studies her face and squeezes her knee again, drawing her gaze back to him. “Who told you that?”

“What?”

“Who told you that you’re behind on life?”

“Well… Pierre? I guess. My ex. He used to talk about success milestones—”

“Success what?” he interrupts.

She powers on. “Just, like, things I should accomplish by a certain age. And when I left, you know? I set back my life? Single again. Starting over. And when I left, Pierre kinda pointed that out. And all I have left is my career— a struggling career.”

“Okay, honestly?” He says, fuming, “Fuck Pierre. Like, what the fuck is that?”

“No,” she shakes her head, chewing on her bottom lip, “No. I don’t— He’s right.”

“He isn't right.” He's sitting up now, fully facing her. “He's not— Firstly, your career isn't struggling. You have a job you enjoy, and from everything I’ve heard from Kelsey and Leanne, you’re fucking good at it. You’re making progress with finishing your book every week, which is awesome. I see you working your ass off all the time. And on top of all that, you're a great fucking friend. And a great fucking person.”

He shakes his head and sighs loudly. “Evie, you don’t have to complete some stupid made-up checklist to be successful. Only you get to decide what counts as success in your life. That's the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard. Honestly, Evie, I'm saying this as your friend, fuck Pierre for making you feel lesser and smaller with this bullshit.”

She looks at him, her face betraying her surprise at his outburst. His cheeks are warm and probably a little flushed, but he doesn’t care. He can feel the anger in his veins, opening and closing his fists to dispel some of the energy.

“I guess?” she says finally. “Pierre’s really not a bad guy. He’s a good person. We just— He just wasn’t a good fit for me.”

“Okay,” he concedes, silently disagreeing with her assessment.

“Thanks, though. For saying that. It means a lot.” She reaches out and squeezes his clenched fists. “Thank you. I'm okay, really. Overall, in the grand scheme of things, anyway. I’m sorry I didn’t come to your game yesterday.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to come to every game. It’s just an offer.” He smiles softly. “I mean, I’d love to have you there, obviously, but I’ll understand if you don't.”

“Okay,” she smiles back.

“So, do you think you can take today off? I think you might be a little burnt out.”

She sighs and looks at her phone, the emails trickling in. She knows she has the time; she always makes herself finish far earlier than whatever deadline her director gives her. She fires off a quick message to the group, telling them she’s taking a mental health day, before putting her phone face down on the coffee table.

“Yeah,” she smiles, “I can take today off.”

“Good,” he beams. He puts his arm around Evie’s waist and pulls her into his side. He reaches for the remote. “That’s good because I haven’t seen any Brooklyn Nine-Nine in like two weeks, and I know the next episode is a Halloween heist episode, and it’s been killing me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, dummy. That’s our show. I can’t watch it without you.”

She laughs, “Okay.”

He puts on the show, smiling as it plays the cold open. He turns to her and tugs her in closer.

“Hey, Evie?”

“Yeah?”

“Please just tell me what’s bothering you next time, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. I will. I promise.” She smiles up at him from his side, and he feels his chest tighten.

A few episodes later, they've slid down on the couch so that she’s almost lying on top of him. He looks down at her head on his chest to see her sound asleep. He pauses the show and pulls out his phone.

To jason dickinson: yo, do you have any more restaurant recs? evie’s been having a rough week, i’m thinking maybe taking her out for dinner today might cheer her up jason dickinson: eyyyyyyy get it!!!!!! To jason dickinson: ????? get what??? jason dickinson: uh? is this a trick question?  To jason dickinson: no? jason dickinson: a date? laid? idk To jason dickinson: WHAT?!!!! jason dickinson: you’re asking for a date spot right? To jason dickinson: wtf jason, no. we’ve been through this. we’re just friends. jason dickinson: riiiiiiight. just friends who ask for a date spot on valentine’s day

Tito’s eyes widen as he glances at the calendar app on his phone.

February 14.

Valentine’s Day.

Fuck.

Next to him, Evie stirs, yawning.

“Hey,” she says, her voice muffled, “You paused the show?”

“Yeah, you fell asleep.”

She chuckles. “I guess I did.” She looks up at him and frowns. “What’s up, Tito? You got a weird look on your face.”

“Oh, um. I just realized what day it was.”

“What day is it?” she looks at her phone.

“Yeah, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh!” she laughs, shaking her head. She pulls away, sitting up, and runs her fingers through her hair. “Okay? Did you have plans? I’m good here if you want to go.”

“What? No? What plans would I have?”

“I don’t know, Anthony. Maybe you’re an international man of mystery,” she laughs, lightly shoving his knee.

“Sure I am,” he says, rolling his eyes, “That’s not what I meant, though.”

“What did you mean then?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you have plans.” She gives him an unimpressed look. “Okay, well, maybe you don’t have plans. But I didn’t get you anything.”

“Do friends get friends Valentine’s Day gifts?”

He sucks in a breath. “I mean, no? I don’t know.”

“You did get me a whole box of pastries. I feel like that’s pretty good. I mean it’s not like I’ve ever celebrated Valentine’s Day before.”

He freezes, brows furrowed.

“What? You never celebrated with Pierre?”

“Nope,” she shakes her head.

“Weren’t you together for like five years?”

“Yep!” she shrugs. “He just wasn’t into that sort of stuff. He thought it was stupid and a waste of money.”

“Come on, what the fuck?” he says, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, we never did anniversaries either. It’s not a big deal.”

“Please tell me he at least did birthdays.”

“I guess. I mean, he always got me birthday and Christmas presents, but usually nothing major. I always planned a dinner and stuff with our group of friends for my birthday.”

He studies her face, his brows furrowed.

She sits up. “What?” 

“Seriously?”

She nods.

“I bet he always got you to plan his birthday parties too.” He rolls his eyes and sighs. “I don’t mean to be rude, but like. Fuck Pierre, man.”

She’s quiet for a second before saying softly, “It’s really not a big deal.”

He shakes his head. “I mean, sure, Valentine’s Day is kinda stupid and cheesy. But that’s the point. It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t use it as an excuse to show someone you love them.”

“Wow, Anthony. I didn’t know you were such a romantic,” she grins, bumping his shoulder.

“I’m not. He just sounds like he was being lazy and didn’t really care to try.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal, Tito. Guys're just like that.”

His eyes follow the sad smile she gives him, and he pauses. Her eyes are a little glassy, and her cheeks redder. He knows when to leave something be.

“Guys are absolutely not ‘just like that,’” he says, making air quotes. “But I’ll drop it.”

He lays back down, tugging on her arm. He mutters, “I just think that he should've cared enough to try, like, even a little bit.”

“God, you're such a sap. Imagine your teammates hearing about this.”

“I wouldn't be embarrassed, Evie. Like, at all,” he looks at her flatly.

She rolls her eyes and lays back down against him.

A few minutes later, she speaks up again. “So, you want to hit up some clubs tonight? Things always get hot and heavy on Valentine’s Day. Good night to pick-up.”

“It’s Wednesday, and I’ve got a game tomorrow,” he says, his voice hollow as he forces his eyes to stay on the screen.

“Lame,” she says, a relieved smile on her lips that he doesn't see.

Evie — March 2

When Evie comes to, she’s lying on her bed with her arm covering her eyes, panting. Her body still feels tingly, in the way it does after good, wild sex. It always leaves her a little dizzy and disoriented. She can hear the sound of heavy breathing next to her. She hums, pleased.

Her other outstretched hand is buried in soft hair. She tugs on a curl and smiles. She loves his curly hair. Evie has always had thick, straight hair, a blessing and a curse; it has never felt as soft as curly hair does. Her fingers twirl around the curl, playing with the springy coil.

She thinks maybe Tito will let his hair grow even longer. He looks so good with longer hair that forms actual curls. The way it falls in front of his eyes a bit makes him look so soft. She thinks about how he lays on the couch lazily, his hair splayed out on the cushion, and how his shirt rides up to show the sliver of skin above his low-slung sweats when he gets comfortable.

The urge to ask him if he’s going to cut his hair soon overtakes her exhaustion, and she moves her arm to look over.

“So—” Evie starts before she furrows her brows.

At that moment, she notices that instead of Tito’s baby blues, she's met with a pair of wide-eyed browns. Her entire body freezes as the night slams back into her consciousness. 

The dancing, the flirting, the meaningful looks, the cab ride home, the sex. God, the sex was fucking good. Her limbs hum in agreement as her chest tightens.

Well, these eyes gaze at her lazily, warm and soft. Evie’s hand is still in her curly mess of hair. The first thing she thinks is that it's actually longer than Tito’s hair is now before she immediately banishes his name from her mind completely. 

Evie can’t seem to relax her body enough to free her voice, which is caught in her throat.

Shit, what is her name?

Natalie? Natalia? Natasha? Nat for sure—

“Don’t worry,” Nat states, smirking, “I’m not staying. Just trying to catch my breath before leaving.”

Evie can’t help but feel unsettled and disoriented, but she forces her mind to quieten. Nat is really hot, and they did have a really good night. Slowly, Evie puts a coy smile back on her face and blinks slowly at her. 

“You don’t have to leave? If you don’t want to. I didn’t mean to kick you out.”

Evie has absolutely no idea why she just said that. She has never asked a hook-up if they want to stay. It must show on her face because Nat laughs. She shakes her head and presses another heated kiss to Evie’s lips, reminding her why she feels like she’s still floating outside of her body.

“I’ll get going.” Nat shakes her head and stands up, looking for her clothes in the mess on the floor. Evie probably should've cleaned up a little before going out.

She leans up on her elbows and lets her eyes trail down Nat’s body. Her mind finally focuses, and she whistles. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay?”

Nat laughs. 

“Yes, baby girl. I’ve got to go to work tomorrow. This was very good, though,” Nat says while putting on her clothes. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to ask for your number or when we’ll see each other again. So you don’t need to give me the spiel. I knew— know what this was.”

Evie laughs at the exaggerated wink Nat gives her. She feels a little lighter with relief at that.

“Can I use your bathroom, though? Before I go.”

“Yeah, it’s right through there.”

“Thanks.” Nat sends her a warm smile before slipping into the bathroom.

Evie lays back down and rubs her eyes. That was fucking weird, what the—

Her bathroom door flies open.

“What the fuck?” Natalie says, holding up Tito’s bread trimmer.

“What?” 

“Do you have a boyfriend or something? Did you just fucking use me to cheat on someone?”

“No?” Evie sits up, confused.

“Don’t fucking lie to me. I was willing to overlook the men’s shoes and coat in your entryway; maybe they’re a friend’s. I was willing to overlook the sweatshirts and sweatpants strewn around your room. I figured maybe you just like being comfortable.” 

“What?” she squeaks through the lump in her throat.

Nat powers through her interruption. “But there’s a fucking beard trimmer in there. Two toothbrushes. Two towels. A curly-defining gel that you definitely don’t use. And the—”

“No, you’re—”

“Are you honestly going to tell me you live here alone? What stupid fucking excuse are you going to give me, huh? This is a one-bedroom apartment, dude. Whoever’s shit this is, he's definitely not your roommate.”

Evie stares at her, stunned, mouth opening and closing.

“God, you know what. Save it. I don’t want to fucking know,” she says before storming out of the bedroom. 

Evie hugs her knees in stunned silence, watching from her bed as Nat grabs her coat and shoes. She pleads with her brain for something to say and comes up empty. 

Nat throws her one last dirty look, her face twisting in a scowl at her continued silence. “Seriously, fuck you, Gigi.” 

The sound of the front door slamming makes Evie jump. She just sits there, staring into empty space for so long that she feels her butt go numb.

She flops back onto her bed, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes.

“What the fuck just happened?” she says to her empty room.

Series Cover Page/Masterlist || Next Episode >>

Requests / Come chat about this with me!!! | Masterlist & Who I Write For & Taglist

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Skeleton Survival Games - New Year Edition

Hello!

For the last day of the year, we're going to put a bunch of skeletons in an arena and watch them kill each other because that's a good day for a party, right? Happy Hunger Games!

Here are our tributes!

District 1: Sans & Papyrus | District 2: Blue & Honey (Underswap) | District 3: Red & Edge (Underfell) | District 4: Oak & Willow (Horrortale) | District 5: Nox & Rus (Swapfell) | District 6: Wine & Coffee (Fellswap Gold) | District 7: Delta & Dune (Disbelief Papyrus & Dustale Sans) | District 8: Fang & Torpedo (Mafiafell) | District 9: Demon & Creeper (Mafiatale) | District 10: Sam & Ben (Farmtale) | District 11: Ink & Error (Inktale & Errortale) | District 12: Nugget & Pumpkin (Horrorswap)

This scenario had been generated with BrantSteele Hunger Games.

Have fun and may the odds be ever in your favor. It starts right under the cut!

The Bloodbath

Coffee, Sans, Papyrus, Nugget, Pumpkin, Error, Ben, Delta, Rus, Creeper, Sam and Dune immediately scatter in the arena, as they don't want to die stupidly.

Wine starts his greedy run by luckily finding a bag full of camping equipment. He is a princess, he refuses to sleep on the floor.

Honey, seeing how lucky Wine was, grabbed a backpack as well! He only noticed after like ten minutes of walking in the forest that... It's totally empty...

Ink finds a bow and some arrows. He's not sure how it works, but hey, at least he has a weapon! Fang finds some too, which is a little more worrying.

Red grabs a first aid kit and runs for his life. Better safe than sorry.

Nox and Torpedo, typical rivals, fight for fishing equipment. Nox manages to flee with the baits... And Torpedo with the fishing rod. Yeah, Nox was too scared to fight him.

Oak and Willow wait for all these idiots to leave the Cornucopia to start installing there.

Demon heard Edge won several games already and immediately takes care of this by strangling Edge to death.

They died: Edge.

DAY 1

Delta decides to find a safe place in the higher grounds.

Ben and Nugget met each other. Ben panicked and screamed "OH LOOK A HUMAN" before running the other way around as fast as he can.

Creeper decided to do what he does best. He camouflages himself in the bushes and pretends to be one, creeping on the other survivors all day long in complete silence. Awkward.

Red was so mad he couldn't find any water a sponsor gave him water so he stopped cursing on their family-friendly program.

Wine is not worried at all about the situation and decides it's a nice day to go fishing even though he hates to eat fish. Or to touch fish. He's in denial.

Dune saw some smoke in the distance, but then he saw a butterfly and completely lost focus and hunted the butterfly.

Fang finds a random cave and decides to spend the day there.

Pumpkin tries to create a bow but he's not really good at it.

Demon won a little hatchet after he killed Edge and he's parading in the arena, so proud he's the first one who killed someone.

Oak and Willow start to explore. Oak finds a river, but loses his way and can't find Willow again to tell him... And then he forgot the river.

Ink hears Rus and Torpedo talking somewhere close and decides it's best to hide in a tree.

Blue, Honey, Sam and Coffee are trying to find other people but Honey and Coffee keeps having panic attacks at every noise so they don't make a lot of progress.

Error somehow hangs out with Papyrus to find other people. Papyrus is actually trying to find people to run away from that crazy man.

Sans sprains his ankle trying to run away from Nox. He fell in a hole and played dead so Nox doesn't find him, which works in the end.

They died: Edge.

NIGHT 1

Ben sings to comfort himself. Red does it too somewhere else in the arena.

Oak takes care of his injuries, wondering where is his brother.

Coffee peacefully sleeps.

Honey couldn't find anyone to comfort him so he reluctantly kidnapped Dune to cuddle him. He's like a big dog so it works... right?

Sam and Blue met and decides to ally for the night.

Papyrus, Rus, Demon, Pumpkin, Error, Nugget and Wine are sleeping in the trees.

Torpedo tries to sing to find sleep but he's singing so bad he's cringing himself. Delta does the same, with better success.

Sans receives a hatchet from a sponsor but he's not sure why and keeps asking the sky if they're sure they got the right skeleton.

Fang ran out of energy and flopped on the floor, deciding to sleep there.

Creeper remembered he's a skeleton and not a bush, and now he's completely lost in the woods.

Ink, Willow and Nox found alcohol and now they are all drunk, singing songs together.

They died: Edge.

DAY 2

Delta cried because he was starving and everyone cried and sent him food. He doesn't know what to do with 130 cans of ravioli, but at least he got to eat!

Ben is crying somewhere, hugging a tree, wanting to go home.

Pumpkin sadly starves to death, completely alone :(

Red still can't find any water so the arena director spawned a river right at his feet. Sans is confused when he finds that river as well when he woke up later, pretty sure it wasn't there before.

Nugget is tired of Dune following him, so he throws him a stick and runs. Dune is heartbroken. The betrayal.

Demon receives another hatchet from a sponsor. He asks them to please stop sending him weapons now. He has only two hands.

Wine has to work for Rus for the day. Rus is just annoying him all day long, criticizing everything and mimicking him. Wine is that close to snapping.

Sam realizes he has to choose violence if he wants to go back to his farm and stab Error in the back while he was not looking. Damn. Farmers are violent people.

Torpedo is having a mental breakdown and decides to pick flowers for some reason to calm down.

Nox accidentally steps on a land mine and goes kaboom... And that guy was a royal guard.

Coffee runs too fast and takes a tree in the face, knocking himself out for the day.

Ink is trying to find edible fruits to eat.

Oak is still searching for his brother, and he's starting to panic.

Willow camouflages in the bushes, hoping Oak will come back to him eventually. He's a bit stressed out right now.

Creeper is bored and makes himself a slingshot.

Blue, Honey and Fang are trying to use their brains to fish, but they can't stop fighting.

They died: Edge, Pumpkin, Error, Nox.

NIGHT 2

Wine cooks some random cans of ravioli he found in the forest. Who needs 120 cans of ravioli anyway?

Sans breaks down and cries all night long.

Ink and Dune were having a nice dinner until Dune found a ball and brought it to Ink. Ink threw it. It was a grenade. They both die in the explosion...

Demon and Rus fall asleep in a pile of bone, too tired to question why the other is here.

Delta freaks out and asks Honey, Creeper and Oak to leave him alone. He's not feeling comfortable around people anymore.

Coffee and Blue are cuddling in a tree.

Papyrus tries to find his brother, but he has no idea where he's going actually.

Fang and Torpedo are talking about their home, nostalgic. They're also scared their boss is going to kill them once he realizes they are gone.

Red got mad Ben, Nugget and Willow kept talking instead of sleeping and chased them away with rocks.

Sam, exhausted, dies from hypothermia all alone :(

They died: Edge, Pumpkin, Error, Nox, Ink, Dune, Sam.

DAY 3

Willow and Blue fight for resources. Willow won, but couldn't kill Blue. They split the resources and separated.

Oak, hungry, found food where Fang was sleeping. Fang got mad and managed to strangle Oak to death. Poor boy :(

Creeper, Rus and Red are bored and decide to bully Delta by destroying his camp while he's not there.

Demon attacks Papyrus and Honey. Both skeletons did their best to fight back. Eventually, Honey managed to run away, and Papyrus hit Demon hard enough to make sure he would never wake up again. He's injured, but still alive.

Nugget, Coffee, Wine and Sans are hunting out together, trying to find other people.

Torpedo is still having an existential crisis and decides to fish now.

They died: Edge, Pumpkin, Error, Nox, Ink, Dune, Sam, Oak, Demon.

NIGHT 3

Ben breaks down after he discovers his brother died and begs Honey to kill him. Poor Honey is traumatized enough and tries to comfort him instead.

Torpedo still tries to sing to sleep despite being still so bad at it. He's sure if he keeps practicing he will get better eventually.

Creeper tries to start a fire, but he's terrible at it. He's so ashamed right now. He's supposed to be the best mafia agent...

Red takes care of Sans' wounds because Sans' puppy eyes are working too much on him.

Wine protects his brother, Coffee, while they're both sleeping in the trees.

Nugget, Blue, Delta, Rus and Papyrus are hanging out together, talking about their day.

Fang climbs in a tree to sleep, wondering what his brother is doing.

Willow can't start his fire. His hands are shaking too much since he learned his brother died. He curls up on the floor and cries all night long.

They died: Edge, Pumpkin, Error, Nox, Ink, Dune, Sam, Oak, Demon.

DAY 4

Torpedo has enough of Rus' bullshit and savagely attacks him. He injures him badly and watches him agonize for hours before he finally dies.

Ben finds a river that he is sure wasn't yesterday. Is someone spawning rivers???

Coffee is playfully stalking on Wine. Wine pretends he doesn't see him.

Honey is all alone and tries to find someone to spend the night with.

Creeper climbs a tree and finds some apples. He is so excited, imagining the apple pie he will make with these... Before he remembers he doesn't have an oven. Ah.

Red starts cursing because he's hungry so a sponsor threw him food so he shuts up.

Papyrus suddenly realized that he hadn't eaten anything in four days. Too bad he realizes it as he's agonizing on the floor, unable to stand up. He dies there, all alone.

Delta finds berries and eats them, so hungry. He soon realizes it's a huge mistake as he starts to convulse on the floor. They were poisoned... And deadly.

Sans and Fang fight together. Sans won, hardly, but decides to spare Fang as he just can't kill someone.

Blue tries to make a slingshot, cursing he can't look at a tutorial on YouTube.

Willow tries to build himself a shelter for the night.

Nugget falls into a trap and injures himself badly. He tried to search for help all day but eventually bled out.

They died: Edge, Pumpkin, Error, Nox, Ink, Dune, Sam, Oak, Demon, Rus, Papyrus, Delta, Nugget.

NIGHT 4

Willow and Fang are hanging out together. Willow cries to him about the disappearance of his brother. Fang tries really hard to not meet his eyes lol. How could Oak possibly die? Weird.

Sans found a helpless Coffee wandering all alone outside and decided to take him to his shelter. He's too sad about his brother so he cried in Coffee's arms the entire night. Coffee feels so awkward.

Blue climbs a tree and tries to sleep there.

Red threatens to curse again if he doesn't get any first aid kit and it works as the sponsors quickly send him some.

Honey has no survival instincts whatsoever and decides to invite Torpedo into his shed for the night.

Ben has no choice but to cuddle Creeper tonight. Creeper is not really happy about that.

Wine is mad he lost his brother in the woods and decides to cook to calm down.

They died: Edge, Pumpkin, Error, Nox, Ink, Dune, Sam, Oak, Demon, Rus, Papyrus, Delta, Nugget.

DAY 5

Blue is looking for some rabbits to hunt. The rabbits ends up hunting him and he has to hide in a tree for the entire day.

Coffee tries to sleep in a corner, hoping his brother will come and fetch him eventually.

Red, Ben and Honey are trying to find the magical river that appeared at Red's feet the other day. They swear it disappeared, what the hell?

Willow sees some smoke in the distance but decides it's not worth it. He's better on his own.

Torpedo threatens Sans to kill him if he doesn't heal him. Sans gave up as soon as his brother died and obeys, not caring that much if he dies.

Fang receives some food by a sponsor and cooks everything.

Creeper pricks his hand while picking berries. He then blasted the bushes out of anger.

Wine makes a wooden spear and tries to look for his brother.

They died: Edge, Pumpkin, Error, Nox, Ink, Dune, Sam, Oak, Demon, Rus, Papyrus, Delta, Nugget.

NIGHT 5

Coffee begs Red to cuddle with him because he's scared. Red rolls his eyes but accepts it anyway.

Sans convinced Wine to ally for the night, not believing one second it would work, but it did.

Blue found Willow and Honey. They're all sleeping together.

Torpedo accidentally eats the same berries that killed Delta. Yeah, he figured it was weird there were just berries standing there.

Fang and Creeper fight together, but eventually decide it's too much work and so they hang out for the night.

They died: Edge, Pumpkin, Error, Nox, Ink, Dune, Sam, Oak, Demon, Rus, Papyrus, Delta, Nugget, Torpedo.

DAY 6

Wine wants more shiny things and decides to take them from Willow's backpack while he is still sleeping.

Creeper and Ben are hanging out together, trying to find some food to survive one more day.

Sans and Red fight, like always when they are together, except this time Sans injures Red badly. Instead of letting him agonize, he puts him out of his misery, apologizing.

Honey falls into a hole and twists his ankle. Great, it was not terrible enough for him.

Coffee receives a hatchet from a sponsor but he... doesn't want it? Take it back? Please?

Blue met Fang, but Fang was too pissed off about his brother dying the night before. Blue decides to leave him alone and runs away.

They died: Edge, Pumpkin, Error, Nox, Ink, Dune, Sam, Oak, Demon, Rus, Papyrus, Delta, Nugget, Torpedo, Red.

ARENA EVENT

Mortal wasps invade the arena!

Creeper, Blue, Fang, Honey, Ben and Willow are trying to find a place to hide. They got stung to death, one after the other.

Coffee and Sans didn't survive the attack either, immediately caught by the wasps.

Wine buried in a hole and somehow survived.

They died: Edge, Pumpkin, Error, Nox, Ink, Dune, Sam, Oak, Demon, Rus, Papyrus, Delta, Nugget, Torpedo, Red, Creeper, Blue, Fang, Honey, Ben, Willow, Coffee, Sans.

The winner is Wine, from District 6! He did nothing during the game, simply chilling and stealing shiny things, and he somehow managed to win. He's still bitter about his brother though.

But oh well, that's fine! Now that he survived, he can track down the organisations of these stupid games and kill them, one by one.