#half wave rectifier

[emcoprecima]

Rectifiers play a crucial role in converting AC to DC, making them essential in various electrical and electronic applications. In this video, we cover: ✅ What are rectifiers? ✅ Types of rectifiers (Half-wave, Full-wave, Bridge) ✅ Working principles explained ✅ Key applications in industries

📌 Watch now to gain in-depth knowledge!

📢 Read more here: https://www.emcoprecima.com/blog/understanding-rectifiers-types-working-principles-and-applications/

[digitalthinkerhelp]

Advantages and Disadvantages of Half Wave Rectifier | Pros & Cons

Hi Guys! Today, here we will explain about advantages and disadvantages of half wave rectifier as well as benefits and drawbacks of half wave rectifier with ease. This is unique content over the internet. So making sure that at the end of this post; you will definitely fully aware about Half Wave Rectifier Pros and Cons without getting any hassle.

[crls2more]

https://www.futureelectronics.com/p/semiconductors--discretes--diodes--standard-rectifiers/1n4148wtq-7-diodes-incorporated-4041450

Diodes, Standard Rectifiers, 1N4148WTQ-7, Diodes Incorporated

1N4148WT Series 2 A 80 V 150 mW Surface Mount Fast Switching Diode - SOD-523

[cottonlemonade]

Dating You For A Bet [Part 4]

word count: 3420 || avg. reading time: 15 mins.

pairing: university AU!Matsukawa x chubby!Reader

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: swearing, use of alcohol

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

By the time Christmas was over, Issei and you were texting each other regularly again. It started with you sending him a picture of a holiday snack he told you about over coffee, and you wanted to confirm that it was the right one. Later that day, he let you know that the photo made him crave the snack, too, so he had gone out to get a bag himself. An hour or so later you asked him if he’d seen the latest cheesy holiday flick on Netflix, he said No but followed it up by saying that it would be rectified immediately and you, naturally, watched it at the same time, texting each other updates and reactions about the plot. There was no doubt that you missed him, and you felt a weird mixture of small happiness and caution whenever your phone buzzed with a new text, but whichever way you looked at it, you couldn’t forget the fact that the first half of your relationship had all been pretend. You kept reminding yourself over and over as you laughed about his silly comments on the movie and when you replayed a voice message he sent imitating an especially ridiculous line.

The day before New Year’s then, your heavily suppressed need to be in his arms again was put to the test. The cold and gloom of the weather coupled with the immense amount of Christmas rom-coms you’d consumed had you reach for the phone more times than you cared to admit. But instead of giving in to the urge, you tossed the devilishly tempting device onto your roommate’s bed and buried yourself deep into a blanket, with your comfort show playing on your tablet.

“Hey, Y/n.”, your roommate came in, freshly showered after a workout at the gym. Yawning from a lazy day spent in bed, you watched her open her wardrobe and pick through her clothes.

“Date tonight?”, you asked.

“Hmm, kinda. My boyfriend and I are gonna go out drinking with some friends and stay up til midnight.”

“That’s nice.”, you said flatly.

“Wanna come?”, she asked, holding a skin-tight little black dress up to her towel-wrapped body and assessing her image in the spotty mirror.

You cocked an incredulous brow in your blanket burrito.

“Do I look like I wanna party?”

Your roommate met your eyes in the reflection and snorted.

“I mean, we still have two hours until we’re supposed to meet. That’s plenty of time to get ready.”, she gave you an encouraging smile, “Come on, I’d love for you to come.”

“Stop tugging at your skirt, you look great. - There he is. Hey handsome!”

Your roommate somehow lengthened her stride despite the high heels and restricting dress, jogging into the arms of the young man waiting in front of the restaurant. He had a stocky build and was half a head shorter than her, especially noticeable in those shoes. You recognized him as the varsity Volleyball team’s libero and offered a small wave hello, which went unnoticed because they were very busy greeting each other. To be honest, the way he looked into his girlfriend’s eyes after she kissed him made you believe in true love and want to throw up at the same time.

Once inside, you were all welcomed warmly by a large group of people sitting around a long table, every bit of which was covered with platters of food. The smell of steak, seared vegetables, and warming soups wafted through the air and made your mouth water. A few more seats were unoccupied but filled up in the next half an hour as more friends joined. You had never talked to or even met any of these people and for the most part, stuck to looking at your dinner and nodding politely along to surrounding conversations.

“Why are you always late?”, the boyfriend laughed towards the door while he dug into a pile of meat. You turned slightly, mildly curious. The slice of cheesy omelet almost fell from your chopsticks when none other than Issei greeted the table, giving your roommate’s boyfriend a half hug. He did a double-take when he saw you. “Y/n. What - hi, how are you?”

Draping his jacket over the back of the chair, he sat down on the remaining space next to you. His leg began to bounce.

Throughout the evening, with the help of your roommate, people also turned their attention to you and even asked questions about what it was like to live and study in Japan, about your home country and holiday traditions.

“Look at you making all those new friends.”, Issei said under his breath, smiling at his plate, but obviously directing the comment at you.

“Well yeah, I’m amazing.”, you said and dramatically pretended to flip your hair.

He smiled even wider and looked at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah. You are.”, he lowered his voice even more until it was barely more than a soft low hum, “You look beautiful, by the way. The outfit suits you.”

You pretended to admire the holiday decoration of the room so he wouldn’t see the heat rising in your face.

You were luckily spared any need for a reply when someone to your right said into the group, “What do you say, should we get the party started?”

General cheers erupted around the table, and a waiter was asked for a round of shots.

You raised the glass to your nose for an experimental sniff.

“It’s sake.”, your roommate explained.

“Oh, you might wanna ask for something else.”, Issei advised.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t think you’ll like sake.”

You cocked a challenging brow.

“Because… you don’t drink a lot, and you like your alcohol sweet.”, he added tentatively.

Along with the rest of the table, you toasted to the upcoming new year, holding eye contact with Issei as you demonstratively downed the glass.

“Alright, be my guest.”, he shrugged and drank his own.

You shuddered next to him, eye twitching and mouth pursing.

His shoulders shook with suppressed laughter as he leaned slightly forward on the table to hide your making faces of disgust behind his broad back.

When you resurfaced, he asked smugly, “How was it?”

“Best thing ever.”, you pressed out and turned once more in your chair for another round of coughing.

“I’m so glad you like it!”, your roommate exclaimed and took bottles worth of sake from a new tray the waiter was holding out for her, “Have another one!”

“Sure.”, you croaked, discreetly stepping on Issei’s foot so that he would stop cackling.

He was already done with his second glass, while you still tried to hype yourself up for what you could only describe as rubbing alcohol with notes of hellfire and a hint of sandpaper.

You turned the glass in your fingers and then noticed how Issei rested his arms on the table as if more engrossed in everyone’s conversations. Behind his elbow, out of view for everyone else, he made a small grabbing motion while he talked with your roommate’s boyfriend. A little puzzled, you carefully pushed your sake into his waiting fingers. It must have been the right move because he set down his own emptied glass in front of you and now smoothly drank yours. As the night went on, glass after glass was exchanged this way and Issei’s cheeks soon turned rosy.

There was still some time left until midnight when Issei stumbled out of the bathroom and nearly caused a collision with a waiter.

“Sor- sorr- ssory.”, he slurred, looking a little past the waiter, probably because he saw two of them and chose the wrong one to address.

Being the only sober person at the table and feeling very guilty for him having had twice as many drinks as everyone else, you volunteered to take him back to the dorm safely. Issei stood still-ish as you wrapped his scarf around his neck and helped him into his jacket but tumbled immediately as soon as you began ushering him towards the exit. He slung his arm around your shoulder, and you half-hoisted him into a waiting taxi in front of the restaurant. You gave the driver the address of the university and opened your handbag to fish out the small bottle of water you had prudently packed. While you were still engrossed in your task in the darkness of the backseat, Issei mumbled, “Lissen, you’re very preddy an’ I’m sure you’re suber nice but… I’m not over my ex an’- an’ it wouldn’t be fair to you. M sorry. I jus’ can’t.”

You stiffened slightly, then held out the water to him without a word.

By the time you arrived at the campus, Issei had dozed off and the side of his face was smooshed against the window.

With the help of the kind driver, you got him out of the car and made your way to his dorm. The campus was quiet. Most students were probably in the city, celebrating, anticipating.

The water and cold night air seemed to have sobered Issei up a little, and he managed to swerve around a bollard rudely put in his way. Progress was arduous, and the freshly fallen layer of snow crunched under his sneakers. You really wore the wrong shoes for this. Your heels slipped on the icy ground, making you cling to Issei as much as he did to you for stability.

“Let’s sit for a moment.”, you suggested about halfway to the dorm. Issei was heavy as a dead weight, and you could feel sweat forming under your hat from lugging him along. Using the hem of your coat, you brushed snow off a wooden bench before you both plopped down. A few stray snowflakes rushed along the ground, picked up by a little breeze that swept over the empty courtyard. You offered him another gulp of water, which he readily accepted.

“Thank you.”, he whispered, almost too quiet to hear, then cleared his throat and repeated it a bit louder.

“No problem.”, you said and focused on the ground where you nudged some snow around with the tip of your shoe.

Issei groaned, pushing both his hands onto the bench, and swayed slightly back and forth.

“How are you feeling?”

“Never better.”, he mumbled, keeping his head low and eyes closed.

“We’re almost there. Not much further.”

“I never should have taken that bet.”, he said quietly.

“What?”

“I never should have even talked to these guys.”

He was now staring at his knees and his voice caught when he continued, “I can’t believe I ruined it. I should have… I should have come up to you on our first day and I should have kissed you.”

You didn’t know what to do, so you tried to joke, “Well, I would have probably used my pepper spray and reported you to the dean.”

Issei gave a toneless laugh.

“Look, I…” You hesitated. “I forgive you. It’s okay. - And hey, you’ll meet someone new someday and definitely not make that same mistake again.” After a moment's waver, you put your hand on his shoulder, squeezing for comfort.

“I don’t want - shit-”, he broke off and turned his head away, then coughed and tried to take a deep breath, but his back stiffened and he coughed again. You realized he started sobbing.

“Issei…”

“Don’t-“, he began.

“Don’t… what?”, you asked softly, taking your hand off his shoulder in case he meant you should stop touching him.

He turned to you, eyes drowning in tears, “I’m so sorry. But don’t … don’t tell me I’ll find someone else.”

“But…”

“No! I don’t want anyone else! God, y/n, I love you so much. I can’t just…”, he hiccuped, “You’re everything I want. You’re all I can think about. I understand that you want to move on. And you deserve the world.” His large hands, still cold from the bench, came up to ever so gently cup your face, “You can hate me but… don’t tell me I’ll ever get over you. I won’t.”

With that, he dropped his hands and rested his forehead on your shoulder as the tears kept falling and you patted his head to soothe him through a new wave of sobs.

The inky black sky lit up with bright lights. Crackling, whistling, and popping of the New Year’s fireworks almost completely swallowed your reply. “I can’t hate you.”

It took a few tries for Issei to slot the key into the front door lock of his building but eventually, you managed to help him up the stairs and into his room. The burnt plant still sat on the window sill and you spotted one of the plushies you had returned to him stuffed halfway under his pillow when he flopped face down onto his bed. You took off his jacket and scarf and made him drink the last bit of water left in the bottle before covering him with his blanket.

“Thank you.”, he said and yawned widely.

“No problem.” Your eyes met and for a fraction of a heartbeat you wanted to lean down to kiss him goodnight but instead, you brushed a lock of hair from his forehead.

“Are you gonna stay?”, he asked hopefully.

“No, I shouldn’t. I’m gonna head back to my room.”

When you got up he held onto the tips of your fingers. It wouldn’t haven’t taken any effort at all to pull yourself free but you didn’t want him to let go.

“Issei, I have to go.”

He thought about it, studying your face in the dim light of the occasional distant rocket. Then he sat up and pushed the blanket off.

“I should walk you.”

“What? You- no. Lay back down.”

“But it’s dark and creepy. You hate dark and creepy.”

“I’ll be fine.”, you couldn’t help but smile when you put your hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him into his pillow.

“Do you want to call me? I’ll stay on the phone with you until you’re in your room.”

You shook your head and tucked him in again.

“Sorry… I didn’t wanna be pushy about it.”, he muttered into his blanket.

“I’ll text you when I’m there.”

His eyes brightened and he nodded.

As soon as he got your message that you were in your bed, he hugged his phone to his chest and fell asleep.

The New Year started with a hangover for Issei. His head felt like it was about the size and weight of a prized watermelon. He wanted to check his phone for the time but the battery was dead. No wonder, since he found it underneath him in bed instead of charging on his nightstand. He sat up and rubbed his face with both hands, trying to piece together what happened the night before. Deciding that the memories would come back to him eventually, he plugged in his phone and went to take a shower in the meantime, using a hand on the wall to steady himself. The hot water brought back a few bits and pieces, flashes of you sitting in a restaurant next to him laughing, you murmuring a pouty thank you when he took the sake off your hands, him sobbing on some bench. When that last one started to return in vivid detail, he shook his head and shut off the water. He cleared his throat and continued with his morning routine, hoping that the sobbing was nothing but an overly dramatized version of whatever stoically shed manly tears he’d actually produced.

With the groan of an old man, Issei sat back down on his bed a few minutes later, while he started up his phone again. A couple of messages from his friends waited in the group chats, tags on social media, a video clip from his sister and her husband, and a voicemail from his parents wishing him a happy new year. But all of that was ignored when he saw a little number next to your name in the chat.

One was from a notification about a deleted message somewhere around 2 a.m., the other was just sent 10 minutes ago.

“We should talk about last night. I’m having breakfast rn. When you’re up, come find me.”

He only stumbled once on his way to the closet where he grabbed random sweats and a hoodie and when he shuffled back into his bathroom slippers - the first shoes he saw - he ran down the corridor and out of the building.

You were lost in thought, stirring your mostly soggy cereal with a long spoon and absently tapping around on your phone, wondering if he was still asleep. The murmured practice of your small prepared speech was cut short, however, because the doors to the cafeteria flew open and a very disheveled Issei looked around. It only took a moment to spot you in the almost empty hall and he hurried over.

“Good morning.”, you said, your heart softened as you noticed a cowlick just above his ear, “Happy New Year.”

“Yea. That. Good New Year to you. You wanted to talk?”

“Okay, straight to the point.” You pushed your breakfast tray away from you so you had space to nervously knead your hands on the table.

But before you could say anything he started rambling, “I’m so sorry for what happened yesterday, I didn’t mean to lay all that on you. If you wanna tell me that we can’t even be friend-adjacent anymore I might as well change schools. So -“

“Firstly, I’m glad we’re not overreacting here.”

“Right.”, he breathed out and sat down across from you.

“Alright, I’m not gonna drag this out. I still have feelings for you and while it will take a bit for me to trust you again I’d like to give it another go. - If you’re up for it.”

Issei blinked in shock. You used the opportunity to elaborate a little on the terms you had laid out last night in bed while you were staring at the ceiling, too preoccupied with overthinking to consider sleep.

“We can get to know each other again and see where it takes us. A fresh start.”, you looked at him, waiting. He still gaped at you. “This is the part where you would answer.”, you said patiently.

“Yes!”, he called, the echo of which bounced off the walls and had the few other students and cafeteria staff turn their heads in his direction. He cleared his throat. “Yes. Ahem. That sounds … uhm. Good.”

“Good?”

“I said what I said.”

You smiled and nodded.

“Okay. Let’s start with a coffee.”

“Coming right up.”

And he was already jogging to the beverage station.

You watched as he placed two steaming cups on a tray and came back over, slowing his steps in thought, then speeding up again with new determination.

He came to a halt next to the table.

“Hey, is this seat taken?”

“What?”

“This chair.”, Issei nodded to the empty spot, “Are you expecting anyone?”

“What are you doing?”

“Well, you said, you’d have to get to know me again so… Hi, I’m Issei and I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you are. Would it be okay if I joined you?”

You frowned with amused disbelief.

“If I say No, do I still get that coffee?”

“Maybe?”

“Fine… just sit down.”, you chuckled.

“Thank you.”

He took his seat and put the mug down in front of you, excitedly.

“So, what’s your name?”

“Y/n.”

“That’s gorgeous. Very fitting.”

“Uh huh.”, you grinned but decided to play along, “I gotta warn you, I just got out of a relationship.”

He wrapped his hands around his coffee. “Oh yeah? Tell me about the guy.”

You sighed. “Are we really doing this?”

“Hm hm.”

“To be honest, he was kinda a jerk. Started off great but then I found out he was just using me.”

“Bastard.”

“Yeah, you can say that again.”

“Well in the name of full disclosure, I have to confess something, too. I just got dumped by the love of my life and you remind me of her.”

“So I’m your rebound.”

“Yes.” He took a sip of coffee.

“Wow, you suck at this.”

“Oh, just you wait til you find out about all the other things I suck at. The list is pretty long. We can talk about all of them on our first date, x/n.”

“It’s y/n.”

“Right, sorry.”

You both laughed.

a/n: thank you so much to everyone who was invested in this story. This was truly another passion project and I hope you enjoyed it until the end 🌟

taglist: @grassbutneo @samoankpoper21 @reikashe @jasminelee324 @remiratboi @ilovemymomscooking @hashxu @animechick555 @appepel @aldebrana @the-dreaming-me @screamin-abt-haikyuu @dira333 @garouaddict @gojoscloset @multi-fandom-fanfic

[masterlist]

[crescenthistory]

#11 "i want to see you" with Regulus pretty please?

well, when you ask so nicely, of course babe<3

Prompt: E.11 "I want to see you"

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: not proofread, implied smut (mdni), foreplay, heavy makeout, implied trauma and mental health issues on reggie's part, creating a safe space during sexy times, established but new relationship

Note: this man is not okay and i want to personally rectify that. don't know how i feel about this one, but it's something!

The curtains in Regulus’ dorm are drawn, bathing the room in a soft glow from the lantern on the bedside table. You have been spending more nights here than in your own bed the past few weeks, your lives being tangled more and more, and the thought of it all tasted sweet. Each night, you fall into this rhythm, this back-and-forth dance of give and take, of pushing and pulling, daring the other to take it another step. 

His hands are at your waist as you straddle his lap where he sits against the headboard of his bed, fingers tracing absent-minded patterns across your skin. Your shirt is discarded somewhere on the floor, leaving you half-exposed, while Regulus is still fully dressed, save for his tie, which is deliciously loosened. The knot hangs precariously around his neck, the top few buttons of his shirt undone, revealing the pale skin beneath. His chest is heaving and his heart erratic beneath your palm.

His lips meet yours again, soft at first, like he is testing the waters, but you can feel the tension rolling off him in waves, the barely restrained control he is trying so hard to maintain. It’s intoxicating, the way he holds himself back, but you want more. You need more.

You deepen the kiss and feel him melt slightly into you as your fingers tangle into his dark curls, pulling him impossibly closer.

When you break the kiss, you rest your forehead against his, breaths mingling. His hands still linger at your waist.

“Regulus,” you murmur, voice low and edged with something unspoken, "I want to see you.”

His brow furrows slightly, lips parting as if he’s about to speak, but nothing comes out. You bring a hand to his face, thumb brushing over his cheek, his jawline tense beneath your touch. You know he understands, even if he doesn’t want to.

“I understand why you're scared,” you repeat, voice softer but no less insistent. Your fingers move to the knot of his tie, slowly pulling it loose, and you feel his breath stutter against your skin. “But I care for you. I will take care of you, I just want to see you. All of you.”

You mean the words in every possible way. You want to see him — vulnerable, bare, unguarded. Not just physically, you want him to let go, to stop hiding from you, from himself.

His eyes flicker to yours, wide and uncertain, but you can see the desire, the passion, burning in them. A spark that matches the fire simmering inside you. His hesitation makes your heart ache, because you know why he feels the way he is, why he is wired like this, how much he fears losing control, of unravelling in front of you. But you also know how much he wants this — how much he wants you.

Your hands move to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one, your movements slow, deliberate. You give him ample time to stop you, tell you he's too scared, but he just watches you, hunger slowly overtaking his uncertainty. You can still feel the tension radiating from him, the way his breath comes faster with each button undone, as if he's teetering on the edge of something he can’t quite name.

“Let me in,” you whisper, your lips brushing against his collarbone as you push the fabric of his shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. “I want to see you fall apart.”

He exhales sharply, like he’s been holding his breath for years. His hands move from your waist to your back, pulling you closer as his lips crash into yours again, more desperate this time, more raw. You can feel the shift, the way his restraint is slipping, the way he is starting to let go.

You’re pressed against him now, your bare skin against the warmth of his chest, the last of his barriers crumbling as you move together. His kisses grow hungrier, his hands rougher as they trace the curve of your spine, the dip of your waist. He groans into your mouth, and the sound sends heat pooling low in your belly.

"I need you," he whispers against your lips. "Just you."

Your hands explore his chest, fingers swirling over his nipples, smiling when he jerks into your touch at the sensation. You let your nails lightly scratch over his stomach, moving slower as you caress his happy trail and eventually the waistband of his trousers. He is receptive to your touch, finally making the occasional sound of enjoyment as he uses his tongue more surely, more passionately. The controlled Regulus Black allows himself to be more sloppy, more desperate, and the mere thought that it's all for you excites you more than anything.

A teasing finger slips beneath the edge of fabric, pulling slightly at it as you push yourself further into him. You feel him tense slightly against you again, though this time it's not from hesitation — it’s from the sheer intensity of everything he’s feeling. He��s right there, on the cusp of losing himself in you, and it’s driving him equally as mad.

You pull back just enough to meet his gaze, your free hand caressing his jaw and neck, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. “Reggie,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “You don’t have to be closed off with me. I’m right here.”

"You are," he repeats, eyes holding yours intensely, the weight of your words sinking in. You see the war dying inside him — the battle between wanting to keep his walls up and the overwhelming desire to tear them all down for you. One of his hands moves to your thigh while the other holds your back as he lifts you up from his lap to place you on the mattress behind you. You gasp and he smiles, devilishly and beautifully, before kissing you deep.

“Merlin,” he groans against you, his voice low and wrecked, lips trailing down your neck. His teeth graze your skin in a way that has you arching into him and he meets you in turn. He is starting to unravel under your touch, piece by piece, and it’s the most intoxicating thing you have ever seen.

You feel his hands at the clasp of your bra, his fingers only shaking ever so slightly as he undoes it. There is something vulnerable in the way he moves even now, like he is baring himself just as much as you are. When your bra falls away, his breath catches, and for a moment, all he can do is stare at you, his gaze reverent, like he can’t believe you are real.

“So beautiful, so, so gorgeous,” he whispers, already moving down to kiss across your chest with an open mouth, voice rough with need. His hands tremble as they slide up your sides, kneading the flesh, and you can feel how close he is to losing control, but he’s holding on, just barely, because he’s still afraid to fall completely.

You cup his face in your hands, pulling him back up to meet your eyes. “Let go, my love,” you murmur, your voice barely more than a breath. “I want to see you.”

His resolve shatters.

With a low, broken groan, he kisses you again, harder this time, his hands everywhere at once — your hips, your thighs, your breasts. He’s a mess of need and want, his careful control slipping through his fingers like sand. He is undone, and it is everything you’ve been waiting for.

His trousers are the next to go, discarded in a rush as he moves above you, his body pressed to yours, skin to skin. The heat between you is unbearable, but it’s perfect, and when he finally gives in, when he finally lets himself fall apart in your hands, it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. 

As his groans fill the space between you, as you pull him closer, your bodies tangled together in a perfect mess, you realise this is what you’ve both been waiting for — raw and real, he is completely yours and you his. He whispers your name into the darkness.

[huntfordaybreak]

love languages with skz 💕

part 1 - quality time

hyung line - maknae line

warnings: none! tooth-rotting fluff

a/n: the art markets in Montmartre and Hamdeok Beach are real places you can, in fact, go to. these entries end up bleeding into some of the other four languages as well of course, but such is the nature of love (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦. 　⁺ 　 .✦

bang chan

The balmy summer air was not making it any easier to stop yourself from peering stealthily at Chan in the driver’s seat of your rental convertible, wearing a casual outfit of a half-buttoned linen shirt and swimming trunks. He was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to the music playing from the speakers as the car slowly moved up to the north side of Jeju Island.

You had made plans a long time ago to spend a weekend away together, and given Chan’s love for the ocean, you had agreed to go for a beach trip. So you found yourself parking right by Hamdeok Beach, which was proving to meet your (high) expectations – clear water, blue skies, small waves brushing up against the shore. It was stunning.

Before you had taken it all in properly, Chan had already set up a parasol and was currently fighting to put down a large beach towel against the wind. You rushed over to help him with the towel and looked for your phone to take some pictures.

After a few obligatory landscape photos, Chan came up behind you and offered to take some of you (“to send to your mom, she kept saying the other week you aren’t getting enough sun”). He was grinning behind the phone camera as you posed in a flowy sundress, squinting slightly in the bright light.

“Looking great, angel,” he called, and you walked back to him, your flip flops digging up the fine sand with each step.

“Don’t you want to take some with your phone as well?,” you asked, smiling at the photos Chan had taken. He was a pretty gifted photographer, but the scenery was definitely adding to the pictures.

“I’m alright, I don’t have my phone on me, actually,” he said, already digging for sunscreen in your bag.

You frowned, surprised. Chan was usually the first to admit he was a workaholic and it was pretty rare for him to be anywhere without his phone, if not an entire travel-friendly recording setup. “Really? You left it at home? What if there’s an --”

“I’ve left Changbin and the staff with very clear instructions that I won’t be reachable for any reason this weekend,” he interrupted you lightly, sunscreen now in hand. “They can handle it.”

You joined him underneath the parasol, feeling rather touched. “And you’re fine with that?” you asked softly. “I mean, I really appreciate it, but I don’t want you to feel restless or uncomfortable or something while we’re here.”

He seated himself a little closer to you, shaking his head, though there was no heat behind it. “Please, (Y/N), I’m more than fine with it. I’m very thankful to have this time with you and want to enjoy it as much as I can before we go back on Sunday,” he said, gently pushing some of your hair out of your face. “Now, let’s get some sun protection on that cute face of yours before we both burn to a crisp.”

lee know

“Yes, by end of day, please. Yeah. Yes, thank you.”

You sighed, hanging up the call.

Today was not your day.

You had gotten a run in your tights on your way to work basically as soon as you stepped out of the subway, spent all morning in back-to-back meetings that should have been emails, and had been forced to skip your lunch break to rectify a mistake a coworker had made in a report you were signing off on. And now, you had found out right before you were about to head home that you were missing signatures on an important budget proposal.

Normally you wouldn’t really mind too much, but you wanted to leave early today since you were supposed to meet up with Minho right after work. You anxiously eyed the clock as you waited for the necessary emails to come in.

By the time you wrapped up for the day, you had already sent an apologetic running-late-text to Minho and scored another run in your tights as you speed-walked through the subway station.

As soon as you walked into the hallway of your apartment building, you heard music playing faintly – it seemed like it was coming from behind your door. You were supposed to meet up at Minho’s place and go out for dinner, but you figured you had enough time to at least touch up your makeup and find some new tights to wear. Maybe he had gotten impatient in the extra time you had taken.

You unlocked the door and stopped in your tracks. Not only were you right – Minho was standing in the kitchen, back turned towards you – but he had probably arrived at your apartment before you had even sent your last text. He was in the middle of stirring a pot, a cutting board with chopped green onions beside him. The smell of seafood stew was immediate and comforting.

“Minho, you’re here? I thought you wanted to go out?” you asked, kicking off your heels and leaning over to him by the stove, kissing him on the cheek.

He turned to kiss you properly, murmuring a greeting, and raised an eyebrow at you. “I figured you probably weren’t feeling up for heading out again when you told me earlier about the day you were having. So I thought we would do dinner here instead.”

Your heart ached with affection, not only at the thoughtfulness, but also at the familiarity he showed with your living space – he knew where you kept your vegetable peeler, where the clean dish towels were. “You know me too well, you know.”

He smirked. “It’s part of my job description. Go get changed, dinner’s almost ready.”

Soon enough, you were sitting at your dinner table in sweatpants, one leg tucked under your body as you took a careful bite of the piping hot stew. You let out an appreciative noise; Minho knew exactly how spicy you liked your food.

With him sitting across from you barefaced in a T-shirt, you knew then that no restaurant could really come close to replicating this feeling of home.

changbin

People would have to pay you a considerable amount of money to go the gym with Changbin. You didn’t hate working out, and you certainly didn’t hate spending time with your boyfriend. However, as you explained to him, it was healthy and more sustainable for couples to do some activities separately, and you were happy to try out the odd group class on your own from time to time. It was also, as you muttered, really hard to stay focused on your own exercises when Changbin was working out within your immediate vicinity while wearing a compression shirt. This explanation usually satisfied him, you found, a wicked little smile appearing on his face.

One part of his routine that you would more readily agree to was visiting a sauna afterwards. Changbin usually made a wise comment about the importance of recovery here, but you did not need much convincing to get a massage or soak in a near-boiling pool for a while.

Today was one of those days; Changbin had picked you up from work and you had gone to a spa you both liked together. You were happily submerging yourself in the hot water, steam rising in the darkening sky. Changbin also sank in the water next to you, squeaking at the difference in temperature from the cool outside air.

“How was your day, baby?,” you asked, sidling up to him.

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back. “Good. Busy, though. Didn’t have time to text you,” he said, pouting.

You laughed and splashed some water on him. “Don’t be stupid. I won’t wilt like a dying flower without it. I’m happy to see you now,” you smiled.

Some of the cloudiness remained in his face, and you moved to gently push at the tense muscles in his shoulders. “I don’t want you to feel like I don’t have time for you. Like you’re not as important as other parts of my life,” he said quietly.

You moved away from the seating edge of the pool and got in front of him, both of you up to your shoulders in the water.

Looking at him more seriously now, you said: “Bin, if I do somehow ever end up feeling like that, I will tell you. I trust you to do the same. I think you’re being too hard on yourself right now.”

A smile came back to Changbin’s face as he pulled you back to him, back to his firm chest. He placed a kiss on the top of your head. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he muttered. “And thank you for coming here with me.”

“You say that like it’s a sacrifice on my end,” you shot back.

He laughed, and you felt it reverberate in you against your back, a sound of not just amusement, but real tenderness.

hyunjin

Sometimes, you weren't sure how this had ended up being your life.

You were waiting for Hyunjin to finish up in the enormous bathroom in your suite at the Relais Christine, it being your final day in Paris to accompany him to a Cartier shoot on location. Although the trip had been amazing – great food, the weather had been cold but sunny, you’d convinced Hyunjin to ask the brand reps for an extra set of PR goodies for you to steal – you were both tired, worn out from the packed schedule.

Today was your last day in Paris, though; you were catching a flight so early tomorrow morning that it should be illegal. You had been racking your brain for something to do together, a museum he had not been to yet, a gallery that he wouldn’t already know. Would he think it’s corny to go on one of those boat tours?

You shook your head to yourself, starting to pack a few essentials to take on your outing. Before long, Hyunjin emerged from the bathroom, free of make-up but looking as statuesque as he had during the shoot, and he seemed excited for a last outing. “You ready for a last hurrah, baby?” he said, grinning widely.

It was a nice day to be out, at least, you thought as you walked to Montmartre together. It was incredibly busy, and you stuck close to Hyunjin, his face half-covered by a (hilariously) large pair of sunglasses and hair unstyled. He was nothing if not used to navigating crowds, though, and he easily weaved through the throngs of tourists to grab sandwiches that you split, sitting on a bench covered in stickers.

Finally, something caught your eye as you looped back around to the main square: a side of the street full of stalls displaying artworks, mostly paintings.

“Hyunjin, look,” you tugged on his sleeve, “there’s the artist market that they were talking about in the guidebook!”

His eyes shone with interest as you got closer, even though your head was spinning slightly from the sheer variety of art to look at. From soft watercolors of flowers to realistic portraits of elderly people in a park or abstract prints, there was no shortage of things you could see yourself putting up in your apartment.

Suddenly, the gears in your head started turning. “Hyunjin, wait, I wanna split up.”

He wheeled around abruptly. “God, (Y/N), please don’t scare me like that,” he whined, clutching at his chest dramatically.

Suppressing a laugh, you continued: “How about we each start at one end and pick out one painting for each other? We’ve been looking for something to put in the hallway by the bathroom for ages.”

Hyunjin smiled. “What’s the budget?”

“How about 25 euros each, Mr. Cartier,” you rolled your eyes affectionately, squeezing his hand.

He squeezed yours in return and practically ran off to the opposite end of the market.

---

A month later, a watercolor of apple blossoms and a tiny ink drawing of the Seine in the morning sun hung proudly in your hallway, with a slightly blurry Polaroid of the two of you in front of the Sacre Coeur taped to the frame.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦. 　⁺ 　 .✦

@ huntfordaybreak - do not repost.

if you are interested in being on a taglist for the other installations of this series, feel free to let me know!

[grapenamjams]

Loris from the Arcane LoL X fem. Reader

Facial f.rec, Breeding kink, size difference, pet names used for reader (honey/hun/sweetheart/darling)

“H-hun wait just a-I’m gonna-mmh!” Loris groans as he comes against your face accidentally. His warm release painting your lips and chin in his color. The hand that he had threaded into your hair to slow your bobbing motions down, lets go.

So much for that tactic.

He brings his hand up to run it over bearded jaw. He huffs, his large chest lowering and rising with unsteady breathes. He looks down at you with bleary eyes, the grin that appears on your face as you lick around your mouth makes his spent cock twitch.

“Here, I’m sorry sweetheart. Did I get it in your eye?” loris pulls off his shirt, concern in his voice.

Telling him no with a smile he helps clean off the mess he made on you with his white shirt. He chuckles, not believing that he wasn’t able to hold back to finish completely in your mouth like he usually did. You did ambush him after all, getting on your knees infront of him after you greeted him back home. He was still against the door of your shared room his height towering over you. Making you seem extra small compared to him.

“I got it all over you, didn’t I?” He wipes the last of it from the corner of your lip and chin. Something about the sight makes his breathing hitch. He was wiping his cum off of you.

What a waste.

Loris eyes darken once again, his body heating up with desire as some unknown primal wave takes hold of him. He didn’t know where it came from but seeing his seed on you made him want to rectify it. Quickly.

He gives you a hand, helping you up to your feet. Then the next moment he’s letting out a gruff moan as his lips meet yours in a hungry kiss. A growl escaping him at the taste of himself on your lips. Reminding him of his carelessness. Large hands Gripping tight on your waist, need and hunger pulsating through him in a rush. Removing your clothing like they were not even there in the first place.

The back of your legs hit the bed before you fall back; loris following you down onto the mattress with a thud. He breaks away to take a look at you. worn, protective hands gliding down your body.

Loris strokes himself a couple of times, impatient to to fill you up. although it doesn’t take much to get him rock hard again, seeing how he already was dripping precum onto your stomach. Legs already spread, luring him to settle his hips between them. Loving the way his large frame covers your small flushed body. So the only thing you can see and feel is him. his pendent necklace hanging between the two of you.

“This time I’m going to make sure it all stays in” he murmurs placing himself at your entrance.

“Lo?” You start to question— when he drives a gasp out of you. feeling him suddenly push his thick cock into you without is usual warning. Half way inside all in one go is all you can muster as you let out a whine, nails digging into his shoulders. your walls trying to accommodate the sudden intrusion. loris halts, Feeling apologetic at his roughness. He presses kisses on your lips and Jaw “m’sorry…m’sorry…you okay?” Your comfort, his number one priority even when he’s in such a heated state of need. With a smile you reassure him you’re fine just surprised. He nodes, wiping away a single stray tear from the corner of your eye. He holds you in his eyes and at your signal, starts to slowly push in letting you adjust to his size.

“There you go honey… just like always, you take me in so well, dont you?” he groans at how perfectly made your are for him. His broad back muscles tightening as he continues to push in with care till the hilt. Both, moaning and breathing hard looking up at each others eyes.

Loris takes your legs, pushing them to your chest, making you even smaller against him. All flesh and muscle surrounding you. he starts to thrust deep hitting that soft spot that has your eyes rolling back.

“You’re so beautiful honey…but I know youre gonna look even more radiant with my baby in you” murmurs, thrusting at the image of seeing you with a swollen belly.

your walls clamp around him at his words already wanting to coax his release to spill inside you. He shivers, with a low chuckle; a grin on his face.

“Mmm- I know you’d like that huh? Starting our family?- to Keep you full to the brim with my seed” his thrusts hit impossibly deeper as he keeps you folded. Eyes never leaving your blissed out face. “none of it will go to waste darling, I’ll promise you that”

One thing about the man you love is that he has had never broken a promise to you and you doubt he’s going to start now.

[goddessofroyalty]

Prompt from AO3: I have a request if you don't mind, I wanted to see if Silco ever gets the vibe that he knows Jayce would be a good mate to Viktor by seeing how protective and attentive he is to Viktor's needs and shields him from unwanted criticisms from Piltites snobs and Vander looks at Silco like, "Shit, he reminds me of me." And Silco just likes to make life harder for Jayce just cuz you gotta look out for the best for your eldest, lmao. 

A/N:  

Didn’t include Vander in this and I had it that Viktor wasn’t there because I think it makes it even stronger for Jayce to still be completely willing to go in to bat for Viktor without knowing either Viktor or Silco are watching.  

Tags: omegaverse, discrimination  

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

The sound of something being slammed on a table echoes through the room, followed by total silence as those in attendance at the Piltover gathering are apparently all stunned by it.  

Ridiculous, as far as Silco’s concerned. If he were in the Last Drop it would hardly have even been heard over the revelry of the patrons. Not even worth thinking about without anything else to indicate they might have a fight to breakup before it ends with broken furniture.  

In Piltover its worth cutting through the crowd to see which of the so-called ruiling elite has gotten drunk on fizzy wine and made a fool of themselves. It’s not useful in that there is nothing to be gained from the information, but it is a good memory to have when they are trying to block his proposals for them to do something to rectify the harm they are doing to Zaun.  

It is not Hoskal like Silco had half expected but Talis that is the source of the noise.  

And Viktor’s partner does not look at all that inebriated. The hand resting on the hors d'eurves table next to him seemingly not the result of him trying to catch himself after a drunken stumble that is normally the cause in Piltover for such noises but instead what Silco would expect to find back home – a sign of anger and a show of aggression.  

“Say it again,” Jayce says to the man standing in front of him. An investor who clearly thought highly of himself despite coming from one of the lower-Piltover houses going by how he had stuck up his nose to Silco when Piltover’s ridiculous social rules had demanded they must be introduced.  

Viktor’s pet Piltite wasn’t too prone to fits of ego. It would be interesting to know what the investor had said that had the boy actually acting like the alpha he apparently was.  

“You’re not seriously going to make a big deal over it?” the investor asks with an awkward laugh because he also must be feeling painfully aware that he is smaller than Talis, who, almost uniquely among Piltites, possesses the body of someone who has had to actually work to make a living.  

“Say it again,” Jayce repeats. His hand on the table clenching.  

Silco spots Councilor Medarda hurrying over from where she had been, coming to intervene before Talis’ behavior tarnishes her reputation by association. Councellor Kiramman also making her way through the watching crowd, waving the Enforcer guards that apparently must be at all Piltite social events over as she does.  

The investor gives another little laugh, looking Talis up and down as if he is an idiot. He glances around at the crowd as he stands tall again. Full of cocky Piltite arrogance.  

“I don’t know what that Undercity runt gives you but it cannot be worth letting him use your work to prop up whatever criminal dealings he’s involved in.”  

Viktor.  

The ungrateful spoilt piece of shit that had clearly never known a single hardship in his life had insulted Silco’s son.  

“You take that back,” Talis snarls, his hand clenched on the table now in movement.  

“Jayce!” Councilor Medarda manages to intercept before it can connect and rightfully knock the Piltite trash to the ground. Her hand gripping hold of Talis’ arm keeping it by his side. And the brief rage that had seemed to fill Talis returns to the usual Piltite authority.  

“Oh good,” Talis says when Councilor Kiramman and the Enforcers reach them as well. “You can escort him out.”  

“Now hang on-” the piece of shit of an investor says, looking confused that he might face consequences for his actions.  

Talis breaks from Councilor Medarda’s grip and faces off the undeserving shit of a man, giving Silco some hope he will still hit him for his insults against Viktor. Actually use the alpha strength he had been given for something other than peacocking for Silco’s child.  

“My partner,” Talis starts with a weight on the word that gives no question who he is talking about or the importance of their relationship, “is the reason Hextech exists. And Hextech is the reason we are here tonight. You do not deserve to be here if you would talk about him like that.”  

“I-”  

Go on, say something that’ll push it. Let’s see if Talis has the balls to actually punch.  

“No. Get out,” Talis cuts off, looking at the Enforcers expectantly like they actually give a shit about someone discriminating against a Zaunite. “And you can forget about any deal. Or your family ever being involved with Hextech in the future.”  

The message is clear and yet the piece of shit still goes to open his mouth to argue.  

“You should leave,” Councilor Medarda tells him with a pointed nod to the Enforcers.  

Silco is sure they don’t actually think he’s done anything wrong. But an instruction from a councilor has them ushering him out without any of the force Silco has personally experience from them.  

“Well then,” Councilor Kiramman says with a forced, polite smile to those gathered watching the show. “Now that has been dealt with shall we return to what we were doing?”  

The sound of Piltite social gathering starts up again forced as it is and Talis seems to deflate. Glancing around as the two Councilors mutter at him. Silco can’t hear what they’re saying from his distance but he is sure it is chastisement for Talis defending his partner.  

Silco raises his brow when Talis’ gaze finds his and it has the boy breaking from his two handlers to practically shuffle over. Head hung low like his is a chastised pup and not Piltover’s Golden Boy, who can demand a person removed despite the others in attendance not thinking they did anything wrong.  

“I know Viktor can handle himself and doesn’t need protecting,” Talis says, his head low in submission and voice quiet. “And I know it’s nothing new. But I-”  

“You don’t need to apologize to me boy,” Silco tells him before Talis ruins the respect he earned from his display.  

“I- yes, of course. I know,” Talis mutters. Not that Silco thinks he does at all.  

[emcoprecima]

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[youlikefanficdontyousquidward]

A meddling high king

Elrond x Male!Elf!Reader

Summary:High King Gil-Galad conspires to bring his herald closer to one of his guards

Just a short one while I figure stuff out for By Moonlight! I might want to do some rings of power requests soon, I have a few smutty ideas ( •̀ .̫ •́ )✧

Heavy is the head that wears the crown and Gil-Galad's head certainly felt like lead these days. With Galadriel's concerns and pointless meetings with ambitious courtiers he felt he was well justified in making a little bit of fun.

His newest project had been born of an old bit of entertainment grown stale. Despite his heralds silver tongue he had yet to woo the object of his affection. In fact as of late Gil-Galad had become convinced Elrond may not even realise his own feelings. How he could remain so oblivious was beyond him however. As every eloquent word seemed to leave Elrond in the presence of one of Lindon's guards.

Gil-Galad was fond of this guard himself, though it was an entirely platonic appreciation. He was just a very calming presence. No fawning or awkwardness under the scrutiny of his High King, just a dutiful quiet man. Though Gil-Galad was far too observant not to notice his albeit subtle reactions to Elrond's presence.

Just last week he'd watched as Elrond took notes in a meeting with a rather dull member of the court. Y/n had stood against the wall, ready for his call but Gil-Galad noted his eyes shifting back to his herald as the hours dragged on.

Then Elrond had paused in his note taking. His curls had fallen into his face, haven grown long as of late. He swept them back, his fingers splaying and running through the waves and just for a moment Gil-Galad watched his guard stiffen.

Then not two days prior Gil-Galad had spied Elrond's attempts at conversation with the man. The ellon who wrote his speeches, who prided himself on his recall of poetry and prose, now fumbled over simple small talk.

Gil-Galad believed he'd meant to make some comment on the unseasonable chill but had somehow so expertly fumbled his words as to imply his guard was standoffish and cold. Then in a spectacular display of stuttered half sentences manged to call him foolish and then trip over the low wall of the garden.

Any man would've been right to let him land face first in the shrubbery but not Y/n. He'd instead caught the buffoon and pulled him swiftly to his feet and right into his arms. Then as if he couldn't have made Elrond blush deeper he'd laughed heartily. Such a sudden and melodic sound that Gil-Galad himself was surprised it came from his quiet guard. Then to seal the deal had told the quickly reddening ellon that any day would be warmed by his company.

Yet, Gil-Galad noted, neither had made any move to begin a courtship. He supposed his guard may feel it inappropriate to engage in such behaviour with another in service to himself. Though perhaps not, as Gil-Galad had approved of many such unions in his presence. So it may be something a lot simpler though uncharacteristic of a man he'd seen leap into ravenous warg's path without a second thought.

He was scared.

Thus, as all things, it seemed to fall into Gil-Galad's hands to rectify the situation. So when opportunity struck he sent his favoured guard along side Elrond and Celebrimbor. Gil-Galad smiled into his goblet at the thought of the journey. Of Elrond and Y/n spending hours trekking together. Growing comfortable in each others presence.

He could just imagine Elrond's flushed expression when they'd arrive at Eregion. Where a Lord's duties would pull Celebrimbor from the group and leave them alone at last. Would they stroll together in the cities gardens? Take a trip past the bridge to lunch at the river banks? Could Elrond steady his heart long enough to recite a few verses?Would he come to see Y/n's admiration? Whatever they did he did not suppose it mattered, after all they'd be in each others company and that'd be enough.

[gamerbot-22]

🔆Winner Takes All🦁

Contains: Phaidei <3, Mydei is a merman, mentions of having difficulty breathing but no one ever looses the ability to breathe, banter as flirting, setting-appropriate mildly-homoerotic wrestling, some kissin', kinda suggestive, barely proofread and I appreciate spellchecks!

Word Count: 1,907

A/N: These two.... make me sick..... in the best possible way but also the worst possible way.... I keep getting attached to the really tragic ones but NOT HERE. HERE WE DO. SILLY SOFT SHIT. GODDAMMIT. TO COPE. Also the Phainon divider is just a temporary one on account of him only having the one sticker right now but that will be rectified later!

Recommended Listening: Outset Island from The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker (I didn't set out to have all these fics use Zelda music as accompanying tracks, but here we are, babes!)

Related Work: Aventio MerMay fic, Agalanaxa MerMay fic

Likes and Reblogs appreciated (reblogs > likes) and Requests are Open! Read this story on Ao3 here! Buy me a Ko-Fi here!

The dividers in this post were made by @/gamerbot-22 (me!) ☆

© All rights reserved by miHoYo

"Sooner or later you're going to have to tap out, Deliverer!"

Phainon inhaled sharply, reaching out from under the thick coil of Mydei's tail for something -- anything -- he could use to haul himself out of the constricting hold Mydei had him trapped in. All there was, though, was just sand. Pure, white sand as far as his arms could reach, and even that was being washed away by the tide lapping against the shoreline. And even if there was anything to hold onto -- an especially thick piece of driftwood, maybe? Or perhaps the root of a beach-side tree -- Mydei had him pretty firmly restrained. The merman had his arms around Phainon's legs, locking his knees together so he couldn't kick while his thick tail coiled around his waist like a serpent, slowly squeezing the air out of him while minding that the venomous spines by his waist remained up and back, far away from his opponent's body. It seemed that there was no getting out of this for the humble warrior from beyond the over-turned boats on the sand.

Still, Phainon wasn't a goddamn quitter.

"I've... still... got... a chance...!" Phainon grit out, shoving his hands as deep into the sand as he could. The earth itself could haul him out of this if he tried hard enough.

Mydei chuckled, the sound as rich and powerful as the waves rushing over Phainon's forearm. "Even on land, I have you at a disadvantage!" The thin fans of his tail struck the wet sand for emphasis, splashing salt water in all directions. "There's no shame in a surrender!"

Phainon laughed back, strained but every bit as genuine. "I'll surrender... when I'm dead!" He tried his best to throw himself further forward, using his arm in the sand for leverage, but all he accomplished was taking both himself and his opponent half an inch closer to the waves.

Mydei felt Phainon go limp in his arms with an exhausted exhale, and he knew that that was about as close of a surrender as he could hope for out of such a stubborn wrestling partner. With a sigh of his own, the merman loosened his strong arms from around Phainon's legs and let his tail fall from around his waist, landing in the shallow water and sand with another resounding splash.

Phainon never expected Mydei to be a pushover by any means when it came to wrestling -- and there would be words if the merman dared to handle him with kid gloves in any of their competitions -- but still, the strength Mydei displayed was nothing short of impressive and overpowering every time. Sometimes it would feel close, with Phainon kneeling proudly over Mydei's back with his arms locked back, but every time, with just the right swing of his tail, Mydei would turn the tides of battle, and the positions would quickly be switched. Then it was only a matter of conserving stamina in an attempt to wait Mydei out, but so far every match ended the same: with Mydei victorious and Phainon laying just like this in the sand, face-down, water-logged, and breathless. And still, he would always come back for more, because he knew he could only get better -- that Mydei would help him get better in a way that only he could. How lucky was he, to have a competitor so strong to try and surpass?

Mydei's smooth scales brushed over the sand as he slipped back into the water, cutting through Phainon's thoughts with the perfect opportunity for some friendly smack-talk.

"Phew! Fleeing enjoy your victory in private?" Phainon asked, rolling onto his back. He felt as heavy as a rock, and the water lapped at his side like he was one, sinking him just a little lower into the sand with each retreat.

"There's no word in Kremnoan for 'flee,'" Mydei huffed, his eyebrows raising in prideful disbelief. He half-laid in the shallows, his tail nearly fully submerged save for his hips and the long spines decorating them. "You were taking so long to surrender that I was starting to dehydrate."

"A-ha!" The exclamation takes some of the wind out of Phainon again. "So I almost... had you!"

Mydei rolled his eyes. Phainon just laughed.

His optimism is almost contagious. Any lesser rival would've called it quits long ago in the face of so many defeats, but Phainon was always there, ever the excited star hoping to overtake the sun. It almost made Mydei want to go easy on him, but that wouldn't make Phainon satisfied. No, he'd been Mydei's rival for years, and will be for years still, constantly nipping at Mydei's tail fins like an overzealous remora. It was admirable, in all honesty. It made Mydei want to keep pushing, to get better in every way he could to keep this little competition, this little chase between them going.

But he'd be damned if he let Phainon know that. Couldn't have his opponent thinking he was going soft.

Phainon's breathless panting broke through Mydei's thoughts. "You know, one day I'll beat you."

Mydei huffed again, like he usually did, the gills on the side of his neck flaring out to accentuate just how ridiculous he found such dedication. "Hmph. That'll be the day, now won't it, Deliverer?"

Phainon pulled himself up, his now half-buried from the tide hand taking a fistful of wet sand with him as he sat up. "Yeah it will," he said, his wistfulness really amplified by how out of breath he still was.

Another huff from the merman that flares his gills, this time with an added, barely contained smile.

"Rematch?" Phainon held his hand out towards Mydei, fingers half-curled in preparation of the firm clasp he expects. There's determination in his eyes, as always, making his irises shine like the sky above them both, not a cloud of doubt to be seen.

"Already?" An almost coy smile spread across his lips as Mydei looked from Phainon's hand, complete with sand under his nails, to his eyes. "Do you have a death wish, asking for a rematch when you're this tired?"

There's no way Phainon is going to win. Mydei knew it, Phainon knew it, and any crabs or clams hiding in the sand knew it. His face was still flushed and his breath was hollow, but Phainon wanted to enjoy this while the sun was still up, when the tide was still fair and neither of them had anything else to do but spend time together.

So, Phainon disregarded the dig, and simply smiled back even bigger. "Come on, one more! Winner takes all!" He's so impatient, so eager, that he said something he probably shouldn't. "What's the matter? Are you scared?"

"There's no word in Kremnoan for 'scared.'" Mydei grit out, through teeth that would make a shark flee for it's life. He clapped his hand into Phainon's, grasping his palm tight beneath his golden claws. "Fine." He said, and his tone gave away that he was already plotting. "We'll have a rematch. Winner takes all."

Phainon clutched Mydei's hand tighter in turn, his smile breaking into a determined grin that didn't quite hide the way he was bracing. "Fine then. What are your ter-- Wait, what are you doi--?"

"Our rematch begins!"

Mydei grabbed Phainon's arm with both hands and with one determined growl to mask the effort, he threw Phainon over his shoulder, rolling onto his back to get the right amount of swing to send him flying.

The warrior landed with a satisfying splash! having thankfully entered at enough of an angle to not hurt too badly. He was lost for a moment under the cool water, wrapped in a blanket of bubbles, but in the seconds it took to get his bearings back, his head broke the ocean's surface. Through the rush of water past his ears, he could hear Mydei laughing back at shore, not that far away from him at all.

"I believe that settles it!" Mydei called, pushing off the floor of the shallows to swim over to Phainon's side.

The warrior turned his head and spat out the water he'd collected from his landing, the stream arcing like a fountain before he shook his soaked, silvery hair out of his eyes. "That's hardly fair! You gave no warning!"

Mydei offered his painted arm for Phainon to hold onto, knowing that the lingering soreness mixed with the pushing of the waves would make staying in one place with his head above water more of a chore than usual. The warrior, of course, takes it, because for as loud as his bark was, he would never turn down a moment like this.

"There's no word in Kremnoan for 'warning.'" Mydei explained, more gently than his last two language lectures. The exaggerated bravado left with each word, letting his shining victory settle into something well-worn and familiar to just the two of them.

Phainon stifles a laugh, but not his smile. "You know, I'm starting to think that you Kremnoan Merfolk don't have much of a language."

Mydei rolled his eyes. "Unnecessary words aside, Deliverer, I believe that winning twice in a row should be enough for me to claim my prize?"

There's something in the way those sharp, golden eyes fan over Phainon's face that makes him feel warm, even though he's up to his shoulders in frigid cold. The heat rushes up the warrior's neck, then brushes forward across his throat like fingers before coming to rest in the soft skin just beneath his eyes.

"And... what exactly do you want as your prize, Mydei?"

He chuckled and brought Phainon closer. Mydei's eyes did another sweep of his face, going from his lips to his sky blue eyes, his lashes adorned with drops of sea water. "You set my reward yourself, remember? Winner takes all."

Mydei took Phainon's chin, his head tilting one way, then the other, almost like he was appraising the warrior in front of him. "But I think I can settle for this..."

And like a wave against the shore at low tide, Mydei's lips met Phainon's cheek -- once, twice, prompting a soft laugh -- then traveled down to his jaw, turning a little rougher, although not by much.

Phainon wrapped his arms around Mydei's neck, and in turn the merman's arms circled his waist, holding him tight beneath the water.

"If you wanted a kiss, Mydei, you could have just asked..." Phainon went a little breathless as Mydei's lips reach his neck, hoping that he never grows numb to this feeling.

"You wanted your rematch. I wanted my reward," Mydei grinned against his throat. "This way, we both get what we want."

Phainon slid a hand into Mydei's hair, pulling at the soft, golden strands just enough to meet his eyes. "Well, next time, a little warning before you send me flying?"

"Fine, fine..." He pressed a kiss to the corner of Phainon's mouth. "Ypóschomai."

Mydei went to kiss him properly, only for Phainon to give his hair another tug, stopping him just short. He grumbled, frustrated, until Phainon spoke.

"Ee-pos-ko...? What did you say?"

"Ypóschomai." Mydei repeated, closing his eyes. His momentary frustration passed as quick as it came, his words calming to a soothing swell. "You said Kremnoans had little language. I'm giving you some now."

Phainon's fingers loosened. His face tilted forwards. "What does it mean?"

The gap between them shrank to nothing.

"I promise..."

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Hey! Hope I’m requesting in the right place! If not please let me know and I’ll rectify that.

Could I request some Hunter on Pabu please? Something domestic and fluffy for the galaxy’s greatest Dad? I’d love to see him sitting outside during dusk trying to relax after a long day, only to be interrupted by something or someone loud…

I leave the rest up to you 😉 Also totally happy for it to be x reader or not, whatever you want to do. I hope that gives you enough to go off.

As a side note, thanks for doing requests. It boggles my mind how amazing it is that people write for each other. I love this part of the fandom 🩵

Moment of Peace

Hunter x Reader

Summary- Hunter relaxes after a hard work day on Pabu, only to be interrupted by Gonky and reader. Fluff ensues!

A/N- Thank you so much for requesting! I'm so happy to be able to fulfill your request, you are AMAZING! I wish I was able to make it longer, but I didn't know what else to write!

Word Count- 1,259

His view over Pabu was a sight he hoped to never forget.

Hunter looked out to the ocean, feeling an unfamiliar tinge of peace. Calm was a luxury, silence was strange, and rest was foreign. The thought almost made him uneasy.

Almost.

Hunter stretched his arms over his head, shirt slightly rising with his stomach peaking out. With a content sigh, he relaxed further into his chair. His eyes threatened to close on him, possibly from his long day.

He wouldn't have minded, he had all the time in the world now.

It was hard to believe for him, it took hours of convincing from you. To prove to him he deserved this. That he deserved this feeling of peace. The countless times you held his hand, cradled his head, or soothed him with your words.

After dedicating half his life to the Empire- the other running from them- he needed a break. It was beyond deserved.

You certainly thought so.

In any moment of doubt, your words echoed in his head. "The things you have risked for Omega alone, that is enough to earn your place."

With a smile he let his mind fade, and eyes rest.

While he was no longer fending for his life everyday, everyone still had to play their part on Pabu.

For a man of Hunters skill set, he was extremely useful. This typically led to many citizens coming to him for help on repairs, transportation, fishing, and harvesting.

Hunter had never complained once, simply grateful for the new life he had been given with you. That being said, he still had select days.

The seemingly never ending waves of heat and questioning, it was all worth it to come home to you. Not to mention the relief his muscles feel when he settles into his favorite chair on the porch.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed since he began his nap, but when his eyes opened the sun was almost finished setting.

His arm hair was standing, heightened senses on edge. Something was about to happen, he could tell.

Eyes shooting back and forth across the horizon, then head turning to look beside him.

Breath quickened when he saw nothing was out of order, but his mind wandered to you,

You were inside, alone. Had something happened?

He was on his feet, but before he could open the door to his home- he heard a loud crash and a yelp.

He knew your voice immediately, it only drove him to slam the door open, running in. He didn't know what to expect, but he was ready to fight whoever he needed to.

Confusion flushed over him when he heard you laugh. Though, he didn't let himself settle until he saw you.

His feet moved as fast as his body would let them, coming to a brief halt when he was greeted by you in the living room.

A beeping and chirping noise also followed, almost like a greeting.

You were on your back, having fell on the floor. The cause of the crash and noise was Gonky, rested on top of you.

"Hunter! Oh, my savior!" You managed out, having a fit of giggles.

Gonky wobbled, unable to get up.

"What happened?" Hunter spoke, rushing to pull the power droid off of you.

It was easy for him to lift the unit and place him on his feet. Though, he was more worried about you, even in your laughter he stressed.

Now crouched down at your side, you answered him. "I forgot Wrecker had dropped Gonky off. When I came in to watch that new holofilm, he scared me!"

He fitted him hands under your arms to pull you up as well. You were aware that you could have stood on your own, but you let Hunter do as he pleased. It was another way he could make sure you were unharmed.

"How did you end up on the floor?" He looked you over, once you were clear of scrapes and blood- he followed you to the couch.

You heard the urgency in his voice, it was one your hadn't heard since your time on the run. "Hunter, I'm okay. Really, I just tripped over Gonky when I turned into the room."

He nodded, not looking so stiff anymore. "Are you okay?" You asked him.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Hunter." You gave him hard eyes, knowing you weren't getting the full truth.

He sighed, "My senses just... I guess I haven't felt them that extreme in a while."

It was daily that he still felt his heightened senses, they still came in handy. Altering him where to fish, or if a stray ball flew his way from children playing. Not to mention Wrecker and Crosshairs antics.

Of course he had a downside to them, always had. Everything was amplified, it was difficult sometimes. Though, the worst of it was when he felt the way he did a few minutes ago.

When it was about you or Omega, it felt different. More urgent, almost painful.

"Hey, its okay. I'm here." You lifted a hand to hold his tatted cheek, you smiled up at him. Gonky beeped over at the commotion.

"I think he's trying to say 'sorry'." You tried to lighten the mood.

It worked well enough, as Hunter cracked a smile. He even reached over to place a pat on top of Gonky's box. Just before he lounged fully back on the couch.

"Wrecker said someone needed to watch Gonky while he was on his fishing trip." You explained, leaning into Hunters side.

"I still can't believe he agreed to a week long boat trip." Hunter started.

"I'll give it a few hours, he'll be back tonight to get Gonky, I bet."

He put his hand up, "I say two days."

"You have a deal, Wrecker will never last that long." You grasped his hand in a shake.

A few moments of calm silence went by, "What does the winner get?" You proposed.

Hunter hummed. When you looked up at him you saw his eyes closed.

"The winner of the bet?" He looked at you, but you could see the heaviness slowly reappearing in his eyes. He was trying to listen, but now the adrenaline was gone. His exhaustion was coming back.

"How about the loser has to clean Gonky." He teased, slowly closing his eyes again.

You simply cuddled up to his side, wrapping an arm across his stomach. He responded with a gentle hand to your back.

"That's too easy."

"With Wrecker watching."

"Well, that's not fair! It'll take hours, Wrecker is so picky when it comes to Gonky." You light heatedly argued.

He smiled, chest rising in a deep laugh. "Then you better hope he comes back in a few hours."

You gave in, a competitive grin rested on your face.

Gonky beeped again, shuffling to a corner to rest himself.

Peaking up once more, you saw Hunter still fighting sleep. You leaned up, placing a kiss to his cheek. "Good night, Hunter."

He mumbled something in return, you assumed it was along the lines of 'I love you.'

You would both be proven wrong when Wrecker would complete his week long trip, braving the waters. His reasoning? He didn't have to bathe...

As gross as you thought it was, you and Hunter decided you were both losers. Keeping up your end of the deal, you both washed Gonky. Months of caked up dirt took almost all day to get off. Although, you couldn't have picked a better helper.

A/N- Thank you for reading!!! Please let me know of any typos or constructive criticism!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @dangraccoon @knight-of-flowerss

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

The Old Gods and The New

War Games | Loki x Reader

The King of Asgard takes control and an ultimate is made. But as aggressions increase aborad, old enemies arrive in the village.

Warnings: 18+ plot is happening, sorry! Angst, threats, mysogyny.

A/N: is this my posting schedule coming back? Two fics in a week, two consecutive weeks posting TOGATN. Who is she!?

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @reveriesources

Series Masterlist | Loki Masterlist | Masterlist

The King was ready for business. 

It had been a few days since Loki’s disappearance and every moment that he was gone the village seemed to fall deeper into despair. His mischievous manner was irreplaceable and, in its absence, no one felt much like smiling. The normally happy and content village was almost silent in its despair. The celebrations were cut short and the decorations taken down. 

Even Thor’s naturally optimistic nature couldn’t buoy the town up against the waves of sadness that beat against them, eroding any sense of hope. This, their sanctuary, their new life, had been infiltrated and desecrated once more. It had been shameful enough to see a guest taken from their harbour, but for their Prince to have been kidnapped? It was unthinkable, unbearable. 

Brunnhilde had attempted to keep your spirits up by inviting you round for drinks and dinner, making sure Thor and Jane took shifts sitting with you in the evenings and insisting that everyone went out to the pub for lunch every day. But there was no saving your smile. Loki’s absence was a void in your heart, in the very depths of you, and no amount of garlic bread and mulled wine from The Dog and Bilgesnipe was going to rectify that. 

So she dressed for business instead. Brunnhilde had delayed a formal meeting again only to send messages to the few others she trusted and to wait for the outcome of Thor and Jane’s conversations.She tried to reach Asgardians that had left the village for other adventures and a friend, Carol, dear to her heart and exploring the stars. A last hope, just in case things went wrong. 

With a last look in the mirror Brunnhilde tucked a neat braid behind her ear and tugged on the hem of her jacket to make sure it sat right. Perfect. The black suit and crisp shirt was exactly what she needed today as leader, King, of the Asgardians. 

“You look very smart,” Thor’s voice, unusually soft, startled her and she turned from the bedroom mirror to her door, where the god stood leaning against the frame and eating an apple. 

“Thank you,” she touched the corner of her mouth where it felt like her creamy lipstick might have smudged. 

“You’re going to send the message today then?” 

“In half an hour. Is Estrid going to attend?” 

Thor shrugged.

“Well, did you check on her?” 

“Of course.” He looked affronted. 

He had been to see you that morning and found the seasonal plant pots by your door devoid of life. The ivy that had trailed over them in jolly curls lay limp in the puddles of melted snow. The poinsettia in the window was entirely dead, it looked like it’d been set on fire. The leaves and petals were so browned and crisp. 

Using the spare key he crept inside to find the cottage a mess of blankets and cushions, singed furniture and smashed glass. Upstairs you were curled in the middle of the bed, a nest of Loki’s sweaters and shirts scattered around the room. Your eyes looked puffy, and judging by the way you clung to a sodden tissue Thor could only assume you’d cried yourself to sleep after Brunnhilde made you promise not to go storming off to America following last night’s unsuccessful attempt at distracting you. 

“Any news from stars?” Thor took another obnoxiously large bite and Brunnhilde stepped away, glaring. 

“Not yet. I’m just - I’m going to concentrate on this call and hopefully, we won’t need anyone else. Did you hear back from the Avengers?” 

Thor shook his head sadly. He’d used the official phone that Stark had given him after their first battle together in New York, but the line rang without an answer. Then he’d tried Steve, he was sure the soldier would answer, a fellow warrior bound by duty, he was sure to discuss the situation. But he only talked in pleasantries and refused to allow Thor to even mention Loki’s name before saying goodbye and hanging up. There’d been nothing since. 

“Jane had a little more luck though, I suppose.” He said, thoughtfully. Darcy had used her limited influence to arrange a video call with Stark, apparently using up all of the favours owed to her by the Avengers organisation because she now found her work limited and her office smaller than it had been before. “Jane said Darcy has been kept out of some of the levels she used to take her walks in. Perhaps if she is still in the building she can be helpful in the future, should our King allow us to infiltrate and lay siege?” Thor raised an eyebrow and finished the apple, throwing it neatly into a waste paper bin. 

Brunnhilde rolled her eyes, but at least it was something. “We’re making formal contact via the video-” she waved her hand to indicate the ether that she’d be speaking into. “We won’t need to lay siege, we can do this the modern way.” 

Thor sighed in a knowing way. He’d seen the way modern warfare was carried out by Midgard and it still looked an awful lot like throwing people into fights and hoping you had the bigger sword. 

With one last look she grabbed her briefcase, sheathed her sword over her back and made for the door. 

The Long House was just as formally attired as the King and Thor, the higgledy piggledy stack of chairs and tables that normally took up the corner of the room between council meetings, children’s birthday parties and evening get togethers had been neatly removed. The throne, that Brunnhilde usually lounged in with a large understuffed cushion for support, had been polished and moved to the centre of the room, where the Asgardian banners hung from the ceiling between a series of flags, representing the varied makeup of the little village. 

Val took her seat, arranging her suit jacket again and rolling her neck as she eyed the camera set up in front of her. 

“Is this it?” She didn't exactly understand a lot about Midgardian technology, but the young girl behind the camera, Hildr, seemed confident and nodded enthusiastically. 

“We’ll make the call via the laptop, but I thought you'd prefer to have the camera, more professional.” She paused, obviously nervous, this was the first time she'd been called upon for something so serious. Normally it was telekits with politicians where her King rolled her eyes a lot and laughed with her during breaks. There was no jovial bantering now, only solemn faces and tension you could cut like a knife. 

“Good - thanks.” Val was kurt but polite, looking over the notes she’d made with Thor the night before. 

The former Crown Prince settled behind the camera next to Hildr and gave her a thumbs up and a wide smile. 

The blank screen on the laptop made an irritating tinkling noise and then the Avenger’s official conference room came into view. Stark sat between Rogers and Romanoff, their hands folded politely on the shiny desks, their dress equally as stiff and formal. 

Val had met the Avengers on a few occasions and had found them to be brave and skilled, but unfortunately as irritating as Loki did. Despite their differences she'd never been at odds with them and had certainly never imagined quarrelling with them. They were, after all, Midgard’s saviours the same as her own family. And they had been helpful and gracious in aiding them when they first arrived. This unknown had dread settling in her stomach, but she rallied, inclining her head politely before speaking. 

“Good morning,” she spoke first, hoping that consideration for the time difference and some polite chit chat might help to soften the situation. 

“Afternoon.” Stark’s tone was equally as forced, clipped even, and she thought she could sense Roger’s influence in the single word. But it was definitely Romanoff’s suggestion that kept him otherwise quiet, waiting for her to make the first move. 

“What unfortunate circumstances we find ourselves in, I hope that we can rectify this situation quickly.” 

Thor gave another thumbs up and she noticed that there was a movement from the back of the room, the door opening and then closing almost silently, and your face, still drawn, eyes red with tears. But at least your magic was under control now, your hands tucked firmly into the pockets of your trousers, one of Loki’s thick aran sweaters ruching up where the sleeves were a little too long for your arms. 

“Hello, your Highness. I was surprised to hear from you, I didn't think we had any more crazy alien space battles to fight this week.” Stark looked almost bored, almost. Brunnhilde had spent enough times in both war and throne rooms to know when a leader was rattled. 

“Majesty.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“It’s, ‘your Majesty’, but either way, the issue at hand is far from resolved. I call you today as the King of Asgard, insisting on the safe return of Asgard’s Prince Loki to his home of Tønsberg  following his illegal and, frankly, ill-advised kidnapping by the Avengers.” The King sat back in her throne and kept her eyes trained at the eye of the camera. If she looked at you, she would crack and shout and scream and rant and rave, so she remained staring into that camera, as if it might blink at any moment. 

“What an assumption,” Stark scoffed, leaning back in his own chair, allowing the lumbar support to bounce when he placed his booted feet on the table. “Who says we have him?” 

“We have it on good authority, from someone inside of your compound, that Loki has been taken and imprisoned there.” 

Stark shrugged and Brunnhilde exhaled quickly through her nose, tired of the games. 

“Stark, I don’t think you understand, release Loki or we will simply turn up and take him back.” 

He smirked, “come and get him then,” and the screen went blank. 

She stared at herself in the black mirror before propping an elbow on her throne and resting her head. She was getting a migraine, she just knew it was going to be a migraine. 

At a simple look from their King the sparse court of Asgardians quietly left the Long Hall until only you, Brunnhilde and Thor remained, silently staring at the black screen. 

“We can’t let them get away with this,” you whispered, clenching your teeth to stop the rage that billowed inside of you from escaping. 

You’d torched your cottage the night before, the layer of soot that coated your kitchen this morning had been a harsh reminder of your lack of control and, stoking the flames further, you’d sat in the bath hoping the water would stop you from losing control again. Once the half full tub had evaporated you’d given up on that as well, pacing in the cobbled yard at the back of the cottage instead, hoping that the rain would keep your flame from getting too bright. 

“Oh, we won’t.” Brunnhilde agreed before sweeping out of the Long Hall and back into the snowy streets.

Loki lay on his back staring at the ceiling. If he closed his eyes and focussed he could pretend that the fluorescent lights were the warm sun, catching on his high cheekbones while he strolled around the Avenger’s compound with you on his arm. The simple feeling of your skin on his. 

If he laced his fingers together on his chest he could remember the feeling of your small hand clutched tightly to his own, the way you always clung to him in your sleep, clenching your fingers when he made even the smallest movement. 

When he parted his lips he could almost taste you there, the tip of your tongue, the fullness of your bottom lip. 

He surrendered to the memories of you and basked in them, ignoring the sound of voices around him. 

Stark was there, he knew, the cadence of his voice so specific, the rhythm so grating that he couldn’t filter it out. Something about a phone call and how his rules didn’t work on this planet. 

Loki kept his fine features clear and calm, his face relaxed, not a muscle out of place, not a twitch of his eyebrow. Stark didn’t understand the game he was playing. Thor had been too lenient, too kind and jovial in his friendship with these mortals, always pandering to them and going to their silly missions and parties. As if anything that concerned them could possibly be the responsibility of a god. 

He had heard a saying while watching the television with you some weeks before, “there but for the grace of god go I.” It was only because Loki didn’t wish to frighten you that he hadn’t torn the entire compound to pieces before taking you to Tønsberg , but if you were hurt now, or at risk, then there would be no end to his wrath. 

Perhaps they had forgotten, in their short mortal lives, their generations that passed in a moment like a summer butterfly lost to the autumn frosts. They had forgotten that he was a god. His brother was a god. His King was an immortal warrior. And you, his precious Asynja, his beautiful darling, you were a Goddess. Despite Stark’s protests, the world would bend to your will whether it wanted to or not. 

Hildr was called back into the Long House to make one final attempt at reconnecting the call. In the interests of politeness Brunnhilde made a show of pretending there must be some technical difficulties and, to Roger’s credit, he played along. A hint of red tinged the tips of his ears. The super soldier had placed both hands on the table around a piece of paper, clearly some sort of script judging by the way his eyes darted down to it every now and again. 

Thor felt a tinge of empathy for the man, he was good, deep down, but had spent his entire career, before and after the ice, as a puppet of richer, stronger, more forceful men. Despite what Rogers thought of himself, he was still in Stark’s pocket, after all. 

“- while we recognise that the new sovereign state of Tønsberg  has chosen a new King -” he looked up and gave Brunnhilde gave him a small smile, “we also acknowledge that the previous royal family, including Thor Odinson and Loki Laufeyson, have previously held significant positions of power within your home world and new state. However, as a crime has been committed on American soil we, the undersigned, acting as The Avengers, with the authority of the President of the United States, have taken Loki Laufeyson into custody until further notice.”

Thor watched a vein pulse in Brunnhilde’s neck, her jaw clenched. “I understand you think there is some debt owed, but we do not acknowledge your hollow pandering. If Loki Laufeyson is not returned to us in the next twenty four hours we will consider this a declaration of war.” 

From behind the camera you stifled a gasp, grabbing Thor’s hand for support. It was everything you wanted to do, to burst into that stupid compound and take him back. To make the Avengers pay for what they’d put you both through, and you were finally, finally, getting the backing of your King. And yet it felt so huge. Asgard would go to war over this, the nation, small as it was, would be at risk and while your heart sang at the thought of getting Loki back, you couldn’t help the leaden weight that had settled in the pit of your stomach at the thought of what it might cost. 

You closed the door of your cottage behind you, leaning against the solid wood and taking a deep breath. The smell of ash and dying embers had replaced the sweet familiar scent of Loki’s cologne, the brew of coffee in the pot and the spiced cakes he seemed to be able to devour in great numbers without ever getting full. 

If you closed your eyes you could fool yourself into thinking he was there with you, his handsome face all you needed as he bent to kiss you. The cool touch of his lips. Your magic hummed, calling for its partner, and somewhere in the depths of your being you felt a response, a tug on your heart, and the whisper of his breath on your ear. 

“I miss you, Loki.” You whispered, sinking to the floor and letting your head fall to your knees, “I wish I’d told you how much I love you.” 

The tears appeared like a well spring, pouring over your cheeks and dousing the angry flames that threatened to take you over again. You were determined to master yourself without Loki’s help. You wiped your cheeks with the back of your hand and studied your face in the little mirror above your key hooks. 

It felt so ridiculously domestic, to see his empty space next to your own, and your determination to fight for Loki yourself returned anew. With one last swipe at your soot and tear covered face you focussed, bringing your armour forth and opened your front door ready to face the Avengers yourself. 

You had hardly made it across the harbour when there was a rumble from the cliffs and mountains that flanked the seaside village. Your spear flared instinctively, flames curling around your fingers in blue ribbons. 

Across the cobbles Thor and Brunnhilde emerged from the Long House, already in their own battle armour and surveying the mist shrouded peaks above. Through the grey of the clouds the afternoon sun filtered through and the three of you shielded your eyes with your hands as you searched for any sign of the commotion. 

Then the clouds parted, and above you was an army, like turrets along the cliff edge, a battalion stood in perfect lines surveying the village below and there, at the base of the cliff, where the Asgardians had set up a style from the park into the wilder countryside beyond, next to the picnic benches and the swings, stood a warrior. 

“Welcome to Tønsberg , traveller.” The King called, her voice carrying on the wind. 

Faces appeared at the windows of the shops and houses, some shut their curtains, pulling blinds down and reaching out to secure their shutters. Others cracked their windows open, hoping to hear the best of the gossip and be the first in the know. 

“Are you Brunnhilde of the Valkyrie, King of the Asgardians?” The warrior shouted back. He was tall and muscular, his face handsome and strong behind his large ornate helmet. He carried a broadsword and round wooden shield, both of which he seemed prepared to use at a moment's notice. 

“Yes, who’s asking?” Thor’s fingers danced along Moljir’s handle, lightning crackling and the mist turning into rumbling storm clouds. Your fire answered as well, snaking between the cracks in the cobblestones, ready to ignite. 

“My name is King Bres, husband of Brigid. I have brought my army here to return the Lady Estrid to her rightful place in my court and oversee her marriage to her betrothed.”

A chill ran through you, he was your mother’s husband? Yet he hadn’t claimed you as his child the way the gods at the Golden Palace had. Your flame licked your legs, soothing the goosebumps that had risen in the wake of his words.

“The Lady Estrid has sworn herself to Asgard and makes her own decision in such matters,” Val turned to you and the movement caught Bres’ eye as well, his full mouth turned into a cruel smirk. 

“I see you continue to misbehave, welp.” He spat, the words filled with venom. “No matter. Your bitch of a mother may have had Lugh hide you from me, but I will have eternity to correct your behaviour now.” His sword gleamed in the crack of Thor’s lighting, the faces at the windows ducking down in response. 

“Estrid will decide her fate, she is a member of our court.” Thor repeated. 

“There will be no decision when I have obliterated your village, Thor Odinson. Then the welp will come with me.”

It was him, that word, welp, the way your kidnappers had spoken to you, your heart raced. Could he really take you from this place? Would Val and Thor make you go, to protect the village? You couldn’t breathe, there was no air. The grey clouds above you turned stormy, the pressure dropping so quickly your head throbbed, and then there was a crash, so loud it made every face rush back to their windows to look. 

Where Bres had been there was now the remains of the charred picnic benches, the park was in ruins. You’d never seen Thor so angry, his brow furrowed as he prepared another bolt of lightning, chasing the battalion on the cliff top back and away from the village. 

In return arrows rained down on the village, you ducked under the shelter of the shop’s wooden awning. 

“Think on this, Thor Odinson and Brunnhilde of the Valkyries, and return the Lady Estrid to my camp by tomorrow at noon or I shall take your sorry excuse for a realm as punishment.” 

Thor pulled Val back into the Long House and slammed the door. 

<<Chapter 20

Chapter 22 >>

[yourlocaltreesimp]

All Chained Up

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Tw: None

Chapter 1: Days drift past

At the beginning of every good story, there’s two key things. The first being nothing, the way of simplistic sleepy life that days drift past in a haze. Small things like running around with your friends as children, staining your pants with grass as you tumble through weedy fields or stacks of work and the cramp in your wrist as you write… minute things that fill up time. But then comes something that disrupts the simplicity. Something that holds your comfort captive. It hangs over the characters in whatever book read or game played until the issue is resolved with a fitting amount of fighting. You supposed your life was much the same, at least half of it. Days slipped past your fingers in paperwork and assignments, unable to break from the chains you found yourself wrapped in. Bills needed to be paid and there were fewer ways to do that. At some point, you stopped waiting for something to change. You stopped waiting for some villain to make themselves known. You stopped waiting for your story to begin. The tired sigh that racked your body was one you were well acquainted with. The cycle of burnout and exhaustion never truly left- if there was anything hanging over your head, it’d be that, not some petty villain. The thought almost made you laugh, the exhale you let out amused. You got into bed, knowing that the next day you’d be met with the same things and the same people. The same lines and patterns of your days. You always felt out of place, like some bird trapped in a cage, that you were one of a kind. But surely if you had that thought, you couldn’t be that different… but that nagging feeling gnawed at your ribs like carnal fear. Something you’d forgotten- something you yourself couldn’t rectify.

You were not met with your bedroom when you woke up. In fact, you weren’t sure if you were met with much of anything. The world before you was blank and cool. An endless expanse of darkness that nothing could cut through. Your joints were stiff as you moved them, grasping at the empty space in front of you.

“What?” Your voice was quiet, as if the sound did not reflect. It felt like you were moving through water to look around you, resistance meeting your movements. You searched for anything aside from yourself, but when you turned, you weren’t met with much. More darkness and a small ball of light, no larger than a marble, dimly glowing. It hummed quietly when you held it in your hands, something familiar that you couldn’t quite recall. But you weren’t given the time to consider it. Instead, you heard voices. Small whispering chitters- overlapping one another in a wave of sound you couldn’t decipher.

“They’re here! I cant bel- We’ve missed you. W- You won’t leave again wil- The King. Get the King.” The voices cut after the final utter, and you were left with far more questions than ideal. They hissed and whispered, so close to being legible and yet so muffled. The whispers only increased in frequency and volume until one cold voice cut across them all.

“Quiet.” His voice was that of such authority that you yourself felt small in comparison. It pierced through you, cracking your ribs and heading straight to where you were most vulnerable. His voice crackled like static, something so unnatural. The symphony of little voices fell quiet as asked. You turned to face this man, the one who they called ‘the King’. His hair was a snow white fluffy as tufts of it brushed past his cheekbones, skin that of a pale grey. His face was sharp, as if carved from marble, perfect and smooth. His eyes were what caught you. For they held no sclera and were instead glowing vats of red. The kind that put roses to shame for their redness, and yet were just as captivating. He examined you as you did him, though his expression was that of utter reverence, as though he was looking at god themself. The sharpness you saw softened, his lips parting and angular eyebrows furrowing in something of concern. He stepped forward but you stepped back.

“It really is you.” His voice no longer hissed, instead it was clear and quiet- a secret shared between the two of you. You and this man you did not know. You and this man who has chosen to show himself as a threat.

This man who called out to you so wholly that it was terrifying. They say animals will most often not understand nor recognize themselves when met with a reflection, so perhaps this was the inverse.

“You’ve returned to me” He sounds relieved, albeit crazed. The glint in his eyes the same as an addict awaiting their next hit, and you fear he’s found it in you.

“What do you…” Your voice fails you and you trail off, caught off guard as he takes another step forward.

“Oh my dearest… You can’t have forgotten me, can you?” He smirks, his voice curling in a way that has you questioning if he was taunting you. But the amusement fades when his examination sees that you do not look upon him with the same familiarity. You’re scared. A deer caught in a trap with no way to escape, only to await the inevitable. “No matter. You will remember soon.” He returns to half talking to himself and you, nodding to comfort himself. He fiddles with something in his hands, marbles, you think. They faintly glow as he rolls them from palm to palm with a stretching smile, baring his teeth. They vary in colour slightly, from magenta, to lime, to cerulean, each humming a slightly different tune, winding to make a harmony. You count 9 marbles, each clearly meant to mean more than what they currently are… but the number holds no significance.

“I kept them safe for you my dear… But I will admit I've had my fun. Don’t fret, I haven't caused too much harm… yet.” He smiles, a sly grin as he holds them out to you, along with your own small one you disregarded until now. And as they pile into your hand, you feel you slip past yourself, and away from your own body.

[juliets-roller-derby-awesomeness]

quick little drabble based on @famkoe's prompt: the chief has reluctantly approved an undercover mission starring lassiter. Lassiter is determend to show how great he is at this. Shawn is Just confused about why lassie Just walked into his favourite gay bar.(shassie)

Sean was two drinks in on the dance floor. His shirt had mysteriously unbuttoned itself and the DJ was halfway through [music]. And the edges of his world were starting to get fuzzy just the way he likes them.

gus had refused to come tonight on account of "there are never any girls at that place"to which Sean pointed out

"Gus, don't be a limp piece of confetti in the morning after a birthday party. that's the point buddy. no girls just men. And some boys. A fair few lads as well. Come on. We see girls all the time. "

unfortunately, Sean had lost that argument, and so it was forced to face the gay club alone. :(. he was working to rectify that situation, settling up to a taller man With an umbrella in his cup, when something caught Sean's eye.

He tilted his head and squinted – inwardly smiling at what Gus's reaction would've been – and focused on the shoes he could just make out from behind a throng of people across the bar.

he recognized those dark brown men's casual loafers from somewhere. Flipping for his memory, he realized they were the same shoes Lassie have been wearing that day at the police station.

Sean abruptly left the conversation he had been half paying attention to holding up a finger in the direction of tight pants. he hurried over to the crowd of people and yes. It was detective Carlton Lassiter.

well, Carlton Lassiter yes. Detective? Sean had never seen a detective wearing nothing but a tight green mesh top and Jean shorts with a bandanna in both back pockets. Lassie's back was pressed up against a bar, overwhelmed by the five men all crowding around him, trying to buy him drinks. Sean grabbed his elbow and said loudly "come on Ted. Let's get you home. " And turn it to the nearest bathroom.

when they reached the men's room shawn pulled carlton through the door as 2 other men stumbled out, far more inebriated that shawn was.

"spencer what the hell are you doing here? i won't have you blowing my cover just because the chief wouldn't put you on the bone street case." lassie hissed at him while checking under the stall doors for eves-droppers

"bone street? blow your cover? lassie i was just dancing when i saw those horrible shoes, i mean, seriously man, who wears boat shoes to a night out? don't answer that i have a better question, how did it work?? those twinks were crawling all over you maybe i should dress like it's my uncle's wedding next time"

"they're not boat shoes spencer they're men's casual shoes. they go with any outfit even..." lassiter looked down and looped a finger around a black and gold string of his shirt "this thing" he finished

shawn looked down at the taller man's shirt, unable to stop staring at the waves of salt and pepper hair tangled in the tight garment

"shawn!" he yelled. shawn looked up, getting the feeling his name had been said several times.

just then a knock came at the door and the two made eye contact, lassiter determined and shawn mischievous.

before the detective could say anything shawn said

"lassie do you trust me?"

"no."

"well, you can't be hiding a gun in those shorts and we're on my turf so just follow my lead" he said quickly as the door handle turned

"i- what? sha-" lassiter spluttered as shawn stood on his tiptoes to meet his lips

as their mouths touched shawn pushed him to the wall, one hand up by his face, pinning him in and the other slipped underneath the waistband of the jean shorts by carlton's hip.

shawn broke the kiss for a split second as the door was opening to hiss "hands on my ass big boy"

carlton complied, not entirely sure if he liked being called a big boy but the zing that went through his body as he awkwardly grabbed shawn's but was undeniable.

through the rushing in his ears lassiter could hear a quiet chuckle from the door way and a man say "i'll just use the ladies' then" before the door closed

expecting shawn to stop he put his hands down, but instead shawn's teeth moved lower to meet his ear. in a moment he would deny later, carlton closed his eyes, waiting for shawn to kiss his neck, but instead shawn whispered in a jovial and seductive tone "by the way, ted, the guy in the with the orange shirt who was trying to buy you a whiskey killed that girl two weeks ago. you might want to bring him in for questioning" before walking out the door and back onto the dance floor, leaving carlton reeling

[hanmaitani]

Tying Us Together

PAIRING - Tendou Satori x Reader WC - 1.1K GENRE - angst/fluff What You Missed - The more you're with Satori, the more your mind seems to tie the two of you together… even against your own wishes.

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Your heartbeat thudded loudly in your ears as you stood in the courtyard just outside of your class. There was no way this was happening.

You had froze in place the second you stepped out of your lecture. There was a heat that had started in the center of your chest. It grew quickly, spread like wildfire, exploding out, using your veins to travel your body, to eat away at your willpower to stay in your spot. Your fingertips itched, hands clenching at your sides due to the sight.

A girl. Just a girl.

You didn’t even know her name, only recognized her from classes and around the school. Her ringing laugh could be clearly heard from across the entire courtyard.

She was pretty and she was gently covering her mouth with one of her hands, eyes squeezed shut as the other hand laid carefully on the chest of the man she was talking to.

Your jaw clenched when you saw her hand slide up Satori’s chest to his shoulder. Slow in it's motion, fingertips grazing the fibers of his uniform.

Your eyes narrowed at the pair of them as an indescribable feeling encompassed your gut. You wanted to vomit, wanted to hit her, wanted to storm off.

The fire in your chest burned brightly. Latching onto the copper in your blood, burning it up. Burning green.

The same green that filled your vision. The same green as the little monster in your ear telling you to stomp over there and say something.

The green you had no right to have present in your system.

Not for Satori.

Your chest tightened at that point, as you stared.

What were you doing?

You took a shaky breath, a step backwards from the situation, to gain perspective... only to bump into someone else coming out of the classroom.

"Hey, watch it." He muttered, rolling his eyes as he walked past you.

"Sorry." You muttered halfheartedly, watching him go, only to settle your eyes back on Satori and the nameless girl.

He wasn’t yours. You had no claim to him. You knew that. He knew that. Eita knew that. You weren't his either.

The girl gasped loud enough for you to hear, smacking at his chest lightly - something that you did often. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes by instinct. She was leaning into him now and he was smiling down at her.

You hated it.

Why is he even here?

You tried to rack your brain for why he was here, outside this exact lecture hall at this exact time.

It hit you all at once. Talk from the night prior, half-awake on a facetime call with him talking about today. Satori’s request to have you go to the coffee shop with him again, the request that you let him come and pick you up from class. The one you agreed to.

You hated that. Maybe that was why you were so upset then. That was an excuse for you. Because you’d been walking out of class expecting him to be waiting for you. For you…

You rolled your eyes. This was stupid. You glared at the two of them then, huffing in irritation.

Your feet acted on their own, starting you towards the pair of them, jaw clenched. You forced a smile onto your face as you got closer. It oozed faux friendliness and you didn't try hard to rectify that.

Satori caught sight of you before you could reach them, his head lifting towards you and smile brightening.

"Hey!" he called, lifting his hand to wave. The girl’s head snapped towards you as well. Her hand dropped from his chest quickly after one look at your face. Your terse smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. Eyes directed at her.

"Oh hey, how have you been?" you asked it to Satori but you held eye contact with the girl as snark and sarcasm seeped into your voice.

"Actually, I really have to rush off." the girl said quickly, a nervous laugh following it as she stepped back from the two of you. “See- see you later.” she waved to you first and Satori after. “Bye Tendou.”

You mocked her last two words, forming them on your own lips as she turned a scampered off. Satori turned to you and caught the end of it, laughing a bit to himself.

"What?" you snapped at him, fixing him with a glare as he coughed down his laugh.

"Nothing, nothing," he chuckled, arm pulling you into his side quickly as a sort of hug, his lips pressing to your hair softly, over in a second but it left your heart fluttering in your chest, replacing the fire quickly. "You're cute when you're-" he cut himself off and shook his head, thinking better of what he was about to say, "nevermind."

You rolled your eyes with a scoff, pushing him off you as you turned towards the direction of your intended campus exit. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Right right." He chuckled, taking a few quick steps to catch up to you, tossing an arm over your shoulders and ruffling your hair as he did. "Her little brother is trying out for the team next semester, she was asking about any possible advice."

"I don't care why she was talking to you." You snapped back, rolling your eyes yet again. "Why are you telling me?"

He smiled down at you but you missed it. "I was just making small talk. Wonder if her brother is gonna be any good is all." You raised your eyebrows with a hum and let him knock his hip against yours. "How was 'dumb boring' class?" he asked, quoting you from the night before when you'd told him why you'd have to wait for afternoon coffee rather than letting him take you first thing in the morning.

You couldn't help the small smile that tugged on the corner of your lips. "It was alright I guess." you mused, the tiny green monster in your ear tucking itself away in a small recess of your mind to be forgotten about for now. "Dumb and boring," you joked, his laugh lighting up your mind.

You let him pull you closer, tossing your arm around his waist as well, tying the two of you closer together.

TAGLIST - OPEN

@faumpje @all-in-the-fandoms @pearl-blue-musings