#i feel like i haven't elaborated on my thoughts enough

[stayinlimbo]

We Become We

pairing: husband!lee minho x reader genre/warnings: friends to lovers, marriage of convenience, fluff, poor attempts at me trying to be funny, mc's gender is not specified word count: 1.02k note:  i am not dead yay. i tried my best since i haven't had time to write for almost a month so please take this as a peace offering ♡

Marriage. It’s an interesting concept, isn’t it? 

You’ve always thought so, at least. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc. 

Yours happens to be a man named Lee Minho. The same man you’ve been friends with for as long as you can remember. The same man who asked you to marry him for a reason you didn’t get to learn until he was already down on one knee. 

(“I’m sorry, you want me to WHAT?” “Marry me. Please, I need health insurance.”

“Okay, yes, sure, whatever; now please get off the floor. People are staring.”)

Lee Minho, who, after dragging you to the courthouse and legally becoming your husband, finally elaborated on how his job would pay him more and cover both of your health insurances if he was married. So really, in his words, he was “doing you a huge favor” by marrying you. 

And, in all honesty, he really was. No, you didn’t have a ring to show off your new husband’s weird skill at finding loopholes in company policy, and you’re like thirty-five percent sure the two of you are committing some kind of marriage fraud, but does it really matter when you can finally start using the hot water in your dingy apartment without worrying if you’ll have enough money to fund your crippling caffeine addiction? The government will have to drag you kicking and screaming before you resort back to mankind’s cruelest form of torture: cold showers. 

Not to mention that marriage didn’t even change your relationship with Minho. And why would it? You’re still you, and he’s still him. He gets on your nerves just the same, maybe even a little bit more after he decided to frame your marriage certificate in his living room and send a photo to all your mutual friends. You’ll never forgive Minho for laughing at your helplessly panicked state when the group chat wouldn’t stop exploding with messages and incessant calls. 

You’re still his best friend that resides in his apartment four out of seven days of the week while he inhabits yours for the other three. Maybe that’s why, two weeks after your “wedding,” when it was time to renew your lease, Minho suggested with a simple shrug of his shoulders that you move in with him since “you’re here all the time anyway.” 

You’ve really got to learn how to say no to him because now you wake up next to your best friend/roommate/husband in his one bedroom, one bathroom apartment at the crack of dawn with a light pressure on your chest and fur in your face when his cats decide you need to wake up right now to feed them. 

Not to say you don’t like the new arrangement! No, that would be the furthest from the truth. 

Sure, you didn’t appreciate your skin care routine being interrupted by the unexpectedly high-pitched scream Minho let out when he saw you in a face mask for the first time, and what kind of person still has their phone’s brightness turned up all the way before bed? But who else would willingly tolerate your deliriousness before your morning coffee or indulge in your pleas to cook your favorite food three days in a row? 

Living with Minho has only made the purely platonic feelings you harbor for him grow stronger.

That’s what the fluttering in your chest means every time you see him, right? The reason for the smile that grows on your face when you hear the distinct jingling of keys at the front door?

Yeah, that must be why heat spread across your cheeks when he handed you his phone to text one of his friends back, because since when did the heart emoji make an appearance next to your pinned contact name?

You just care about each other, that’s all. It’s normal to want to make sure he arrived at work safely and ask how his day is going during your lunch breaks. It’s normal to start receiving back hugs before bed—a comforting weight as Minho’s chin rests on your shoulder while you apply the rest of the products to your face. 

It’s natural to have doubts about the nature of your relationship during an evening walk, acutely aware of his fingers lightly brushing against yours as you silently study his features illuminated by the soft glow of the scattered streetlights. What if he meets someone else and falls in love with them and wants a divorce and– oh. 

Has he always looked at you like that? With his gaze softening as it locks with yours? With the corners of lips lifting into the gentlest smile you’ve ever seen? With all the stars shining above you finding a second home in his eyes? A look so loving that it takes your breath away and you can’t tell if you’re about to laugh or cry in relief. 

And when you return home to get ready for bed, the familiar feeling of hands wrapping around your waist and a careful pressure resting by the crook of your neck quells the remnants of your worries.

It’s you and Minho. Minho and you, just as it always has been. Just as it’s always meant to be.

The distance between your bodies on the bed becomes nonexistent when you curl yourself into his side, laying your head on his shoulder and intertwining your legs with his as he immediately, unhesitantly, adjusts his arm, his fingertips finding purchase on exposed skin and roaming across the span of your back. A kiss to the top of your head is the last thing you feel before the gentle lull of breathing and the rise and fall of his chest begin to soothe you to sleep. 

…

Ah, marriage—what an interesting concept. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc. 

You love your husband, and you’re beginning to think he loves you too. 

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist: @linospuddin @linocz @spicyhyunn

[posletsvet]

Was anyone going to point out to me that the reason why curses were swarming the streets and filling every empty nook and cranny in the summer of Geto's spiral was actually Gojo Satoru?

The narrative already bears witness to how Satoru's mere birth tips the balance of the world. As the first Gojo to be born with both the Limitless and the Six Eyes in what is almost a half-millenium, he holds unparalled power. Him simply existing is enough for curses to spring into action and start growing in strength as well.

When he suffers a crushing defeat by the hands of Toji and subsequently thrusts himself vigorously into perfecting his technique, this rapid increase in his strength puts into motion a similar process. He becomes stronger, and so cursed spirits follow suit. He breaks the fragile equilibrium, and cursed energy seeks means to restore it.

First time Satoru Gojo changes the world, he is named the strongest. Second time Satoru Gojo changes the world, he becomes the strongest.

Now, this might be a bit of a stretch on my part, but what if Geto's defection and everything in its aftermath is how the world responds to Gojo being the strongest? After all, you cannot balance the scales by putting too much weight on just one side.

Suguru's abilities as a sorcerer are inherently deeply tied to Satoru's, and intentionally so. The stronger he is, the more potent the curses are -- and therefore the more potential there is for Geto's technique. I have said it before and I'll say it again: they are a perfect counterbalance to each other. The equilibrium is broken by Gojo twice. Each time, Geto is there to restore it: first by being born with the ability to manipulate curses, then by creating the opposition to jujutsu society, which Gojo has become the centrepiece of.

Ever since Suguru Geto entered the narrative, he has been the one to keep Gojo's powers in check -- hence preserving the balance. That's why the narrative brings him back: in order to be well-balanced, it needs both of them to be present.

[dire-kumori]

2 ways i'd continue with the whole time is breaking lots of evil robots Idea. (This is not me saying you should end the AU!! I just like sharing my ideas-)

Normal idea: The Afton siblings work together and kill the reaper along with scrap trap and scrap baby. I don't know why but I imagine that Elizabeth and Evan fire a bunch of fireworks directly into the reaper's chest and then they explode and he explodes- The reaper is killed and like everything goes back to normal basically- Michael wakes up and begins his life with no reaper... Maybe everything goes the way it's supposed to maybe it doesn't... Maybe things will be better this time...?

Crackpot idea: Okay so I'm gonna sound insane but... What if instead of teaming up with scrap trap... scrap baby actively tries to help her pass self and the other Afton siblings? Like roll reversal (Mike's the rampaging murderer and Elizabeth is The one trying her best to make up for past mistakes) Anyway team up happens, Mike get one-on-one withh the reaper. the reaper goes on this long monolog about how: "You honestly think that killing me will stop all of this? No matter what you do our dad's always gonna be a b******, we're always going to be a terrible son and everything we care about will always fall to pieces..." Somehow The reaper, Mike and scrap trap are all kind of in a room together... scarp trap attacks past Mike in his anger and nearly kills him. Reaper realizes how terrible he's been watching his father nearly kill his past self (he's turned into the thing he's hated most) Saves past Michael. Kind of breaks the cycle and time sort of fixes itself... Everything from the future is mostly sent back. (A couple things are still in the past-) Including adult Michael and scrap baby. They basically warn their past selves not to trust their dad and then just leave. Planning on finding something better... Theaften siblings are left confused mentally scarred and miraculously alive. All of them agree that no matter what they're not turning into those things.. This one is more of just a branch off idea- Again very crackpot..

Normal idea:

We bring in the new year with fireworks. Marking the end of the time loop with fireworks feels only too appropriate!

Normally the Reaper can track Mike wherever he goes, but with the appearance of countless time traveling animatronics, not to mention multiple iterations of Michael Afton, the Reaper's memories are becoming disjointed and confused. He's lost his biggest weapon, and the Afton siblings are finally able to gain the upper hand. Springtrap and Scrap Baby and the Reaper all close in on the house, hunting each other and hunting young Mike. There's a big argument, but eventually Mike convinces them that he should be the bait to lure the monsters into a trap. While Michael leads them into the basement, Evan and Elizabeth prep the fireworks outside.

I'm gonna gloss over the long, arduous battle, the Scraps brawling with Reaper and the Reaper brutalizing young Mike, young Mike barely escaping by the skin of his teeth, drenched in his own and the Reaper's blood as he crawls out of the house. Long story short, monsters are trapped inside, tearing one another apart in a gory display while the Afton children put an end to this nightmare in a show of sparks and flame. They sit and watch their childhood home burn, and feel a sense of peace as time crumbles around them.

When they next wake up, it's at the side of a small pond in a black and red world.

Crackpot idea:

This makes for a pretty interesting idea! Okay, I'm gonna say that Scrap Baby still starts out following Scraptrap, still determined to earn her father/creator's love. But as her pursuit of the Reaper leads her to the Afton kids, she comes across that girl. The one from her memories/nightmares. The one whose voice she can sometimes still hear, screaming. Baby freezes. Long enough for Elizabeth and her brothers to get away from Scrap Baby. When he finds out that she let them escape, Scraptrap is furious with Scrap Baby. He makes sure to let her know what a disappointment she is before he resumes his own hunt.

The shock of seeing her past self has caused Elizabeth's soul to awaken inside of Scrap Baby. She begins to remember. And slowly, she begins to break free of Circus Baby's murderous programming. Suddenly the Afton kids gain a powerful new ally in the fight against the Reaper.

And she's not the only one. I didn't touch much on it earlier, but the other animatronics, even as they're going berserk, won't harm children. Kids all over town are being ripped away from their parents, adults left in bloody heaps in the streets as the animatronics sequester the children somewhere 'safe.' Of the animatronics, only a select few seem to have any sense of reason. The Puppet watches the carnage and weeps, searching for the cause of it. She knows on an instinctive level, that William and the Aftons are involved. And as she chases down Scraptrap, she discovers the newly awakened Scrap Baby, and soon the Afton children, sticking together and trying to survive in this hellscape.

Fast forwarding again, sadly, this ends with everyone being forced to say goodbye. Once time resets, nothing that shouldn't physically exist in 1981 (that's when I'm saying this takes place now, even though I never specified before) remains. Only thoughts and memories. To the Afton kids, this whole event will become one long, particularly vivid nightmare. To Scrap Baby, the Reaper, the Puppet and all the others, it's the end of the world. The future in which they come to be is erased, despite time resetting, as although nothing physically remains out of time, the event still leaves psychic scars on the Afton kids. For Mike in particular, this event lingers as a particularly vivid dream he never fully forgets, though it does fade in time. Michael, Elizabeth, and Evan aren't the same kids they were before the Reaper entered their lives, and they don't make the same choices or mistakes that they might have without his intervention.

[dawndelion-winery]

"Would You Still Love Me"

"If I was a worm?"

Ft. Dottore, Kazuha, Xiao, Scaramouche

Dottore:

"Of all the stupid things you could ask me..."

Stares judgementally at you, expecting you to revoke the question

Pinches the bridge if his nose and sighs when you don't

His scowl crumbles a little when you seem upset

"So you wouldn't love me if I suddenly turned into a worm."

Comes to the sudden realisation that if you're upset with him, you'll be less compliant...for science

C'mon, he's not gonna admit he's in it for the cuddles, not even in his head

Brings you a set of blueprints and a glass enclosure

"This is where you'd stay if you were a worm. I have three different design plans, so choose wisely because that's how your worm home will look for the rest of your life. You'll have a little worm car after four months if I haven't found a cure, however unlikely that is."

He will tell you all of his plans on what he'll do if you become a worm and you can't stop him because you started it

Your hypothetical worm situation is now fully prepared for, whether you like it or not

Wouldn't recommend because the diet he has planned for worm you doesn't look very appetising

Kazuha:

"You'd travel on my shoulder on in my pocket so I can share poetry with you."

Ruffles your hair and pinches your cheeks

If you swat him away he'll insist he was only checking if you were becoming a worm

Carries on like it was nothing after that

If you ask again he'll remind you that he'll love you regardless of what form you take

This does, unfortunately, spark some odd terms of endearment

You are now his "precious worm", "beloved wormy", "sweet wriggly", "fleshy straw", etc

They get progressively worse

But he swears it's all affectionate

"I'd love you if you became a leaf."

"That wasn't the question-"

"Every leaf has it's own tune when you play it like a flute, I wonder what yours would be."

Xiao:

Stares at you for a good while

"Why would you ever be a worm?"

You don't need to elaborate, because he'll eventually sigh and give in, intertwining his fingers with yours as he assures you he would

Still confused on why you'd be a worm though

But rest assured you would be the safest worm in the whole of Teyvat because nothing can touch you so long as Xiao is taking care of you

You're his little wormy, and he'll carry you in his palm when he's high up so you can have a nice view

Always worried he might misplace you or accidentally step on you

You've given him intrusive thoughts and now he's worried about a hypothetical that may never happen

Scaramouche:

"Would you love me if you were a worm though?"

"Scara what-"

"How do we know your worm brain has the capacity to comprehend that you're in a committed relationship with me? There's no telling whether you'll find some new worm lover who can give you that wormy connection I can't."

He's going off about how a worm couldn't possibly have any lingering feelings for a person

Mildly offended at the implication you might expect him to become a worm for you to live your worm lives together

"Me? A worm? How could you even entertain such a thought?"

You didn't, he drew his own conclusions and started overthinking

This is clearly your way of hinting that you don't feel loved enough to trust him (it's not, he is once again overthinking)

It has now been flipped on you to explain to him that you'd love him even if he became a worm because you'd adore him whether or not he loved you back

Taglist: @myluvkeiji @pluvioseprince @aqui-soba @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @yuzuricebun @chaosinanutshell @heizours @haliyamori @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro @thevictoriousmoon @mastering-procrastinating @lovers-on-the-eiffel @cxlrosii @miss-fantazmagoria @lychme @o91wo @lemonswriting @eowinthetraveller @ajaxstar

[yooils]

the warmth of love. sae itoshi x reader. fluff. (my comeback era!?)

"i have no idea why your apartment always runs so cold, sae."

he scoffs at your words, raising an eyebrow at the way you're quivering so much. it's almost as if you haven't been anywhere cold before. how cute–

he shakes the rest of his thoughts away, banishing them from every nook and cranny of his mind. he doesn't like the way you make him feel. he's riding high on the wave of you, he thinks, because now he can't even do anything properly without you occupying his mind like a parasite.

(hypothetically, though. you would be the only parasite he would let consume his soul inside out, metaphorically and emotionally.)

sae frowns. "it's really not that bad. you're exagerrating so much, y'know. what is this, an elaborate ploy for me to give you my hoodie, or something?"

(he would've done it in a heartbeat if you asked. both of you knew it–) somehow, you still muster enough decency to roll your eyes and treat his words as a joke.

"actually, i wanted you to turn up the thermostat. but i highly doubt you'll be able to survive the heat, mr lukewarm."

his only response was to place his ice-cold fingers around your neck, making you squirm from the massive gap between his hands and your natural body temperature. he supposes you are a lot warmer than he is– emotionally and biologically.

he raises an eyebrow at your overly-dramatic reaction of thrashing around, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "say that again, i dare you."

"okay, mr lukewarm."

sae hates that nickname– yet somehow, everything coming from you seems a lot better. softer, as if thawing his cold heart.

he makes a show of walking over to the thermostat of his home. your protests (pleas, really–) appear to fall upon deaf ears.

neither of you comment on the way he wordlessly sticks closer to you on the couch, nor your body stops shivering.

[gogobootz1]

The Mentor pt.3

Finnick Odair x Reader

Summary: A morning chat at the train station proves very revealing for you and Finnick.

Warnings: mention of forced prostitution and mild self-harm

part two | part four

The marble steps you sit on are practically ice, and the cold seeps quickly through your pants. The train station is entirely empty, and you sit outside of it looking out at the city.

Knees up to your chest, you take a deep breath. The roses you clutch in your icy fingers seem to taunt you, and once you look at them, you can't pull your eyes away. A beautiful gift belying your tragic fate.

You set all but one down beside you, then start to pick at its petals. Completely transfixed, you don't even hear the sounds of someone approaching until you drop the last petal.

"What'd you land on?"

The words break your focus, and you quickly gaze up to find who interrupted you. Finnick interprets your gaze as a confused one and elaborates, "Loves you/loves you not?"

That's not why you were picking the petals, but if you had been asking the flower, it would've been about him. The thought is embarrassing, so you give a half-hearted shrug and look away.

"Well, I got these for you," he holds out a small, far more rustic bouquet. Violets. "But it seems like someone's beaten me to the punch." What a cruel metaphor. Snow blocking your chances yet again. Standing in between you and a real life with real connections. Soon enough, you won't be real. What'll be left when you run out of choices you can make for yourself?

For now, you put the roses down anyway. The breath from your melancholy laugh is visible in the crisp morning air. "Thanks," you say, holding your hand out to accept the flowers. They remind you of home. A patch of them grew out in the field behind the house you grew up in. Your fingers brush over his as you accept the bouquet.

He jolts, "You're freezing!" Dropping down next to you on the steps, he removes the violets from your grasp and rests them in the small space between you. You follow the purple flowers with your eyes as he swiftly takes your hands in his own, attempting to warm them. "Do you purposefully torture your hands?"

You don't answer, still looking at the flowers he brought you. Finnick sighs, "You take such good care of Darla. Do you even bother looking after yourself?"

"What's the point?" Your heart hurts. As much as he hates it, he doesn't have a reply to that. He often wonders the same.

"How will you hold all the flowers you're collecting if your fingers freeze off?" He tries for lighthearted, but you wince. Instantly, he frowns. While typically, your replies to him are short, bordering on rude, they're always spirited. You seemed upset before he left you at the party last night, but now you seem disheveled. Like you hadn't had a wink of sleep.

Clearly, he's caught you in one of those moments. All the victors have them, but usually in private. He's not keen to leave you, though.

"Who gave you the roses?" He ventures, suddenly getting a sickening feeling. He's not expecting a real response, necessarily, but a 'wouldn't you like to know' would ease his anxiety.

You pick up the heavily perfumed flowers, "Oh, these? A gift, I suspect. I made someone very happy last night, and I'm sure I'll be doing it more often," you say bitterly before you toss them back down. Your voice comes out small, though, like you haven't built your armor thick enough to face this yet.

"From the office of the President?" It's not even a question. He already knows. Your face reveals your surprise. "I got a similar congratulatory present when I made my first deal." While he figured out that Snow had you in a similar position, it's clear you suspected nothing of the sort when it came to him. As you look into his eyes, he hopes you're getting what he's trying to convey. That the two of you are the same. And you can finally, finally, be honest.

"It was more of a negotiation," you nod, holding his eyes. "Not my first deal."

"I figured," he says.

You laugh sourly, "Is it easy to tell that I'm a cheap whore?"

"Don't sell yourself short," he scolds, "you're a very expensive whore." He almost worries it won't go over well when you snort and launch into the freest laugh he's heard in his life. Thank God someone appreciates his humor- Mags hates these jokes. He's got plenty more of them, and will definitely use them on you now that he knows they'll land.

"Thank you for the vote of confidence," you reply, tongue-in-cheek. Finnick can tell by your genuine grin, however, that you appreciated the joke.

"You're welcome," he nods, "You know, I've considered abandoning prostitution in favor of stand-up comedy."

Somehow your grin grows wider, "Really?"

"Really," he confirms, "I just have to perfect my material before I pitch it to the big man." You nod sagely, entertaining his bit. "He might just keel over in laughter," Finnick suggests.

You lean in a bit, "Think he'll keel over dead?"

"Here's hoping!" He leans in, too, sending you a flashy smile. You laugh again and look back out at the city. An amicable silence falls between the two of you, and you enjoy it a bit before breaking it.

"I met with him before the taping to tell him our deal was off. My nana died during Darla's games, so I thought he had nothing to hold over my head anymore. Then, at the party, our escort told me that Snow wanted everyone to get to know her. And when I saw her talking to-" you cut yourself off, but he understands. Some of them are too difficult to even think about. "I marched into his house and told him I'd take on twice the clients if it meant Darla would never see one." Finnick's breath catches in his throat for a second.

"So... a reminder of my renewed imprisonment," you pick the white roses up again and wave them sarcastically.

Finnick snatches them from your hands and launches them far across the steps with a firm throw. They scatter and tumble across the white marble. The action is so unexpected that another laugh bubbles out from you.

"I think you're incredibly brave," he declares, looking you right in the eye. "You might be the only victor worthy of the title."

"No," you're quick to insist. "That's Darla. She's earned her peace."

"You haven't stopped to think that you might've too?"

You shake your head, "But I haven't. I don't think I could ever atone for what I've done- no matter how hard I try." His brows furrow, finding your words worrisome.

Catching his look, you elaborate, "Every visit to Mrs. Montgomery's classroom, the parks I design, the gardens I dedicate, my broadcast segments- they're all born of guilt!" You admit, getting choked up, "It's my way of saying sorry. Sorry for fucking your husband, even though he paid to fuck me, and I wanted to die each time he did it. Sorry for being a plague upon the Earth, here's something to make it better. Sorry for-" You only notice you'd been aggressively scratching the back of your hand when Finnick grabs your wrist. It cuts off your rambling and prevents you from hurting yourself anymore.

"Why don't you talk to someone instead of torturing yourself?" He sounds pained.

“Who would I talk to?” You shrug, swiping at a stray tear. 

“That was… supposed to be an offer,” he winces.

“Oh?" you blink at him. 

“I’m really just a call away,” he nods, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. 

“Right,” you say, still sounding a little unsure. You blink a few times, averting your gaze and thinking it over. 

“I know you think I’m gorgeous, but I’m sure it’ll be less of an obstacle for you over the phone,” he jokes. 

You turn toward him slowly, eyes wide, “she didn’t.” 

“She did,” he smirks at you. 

You hit him firmly in the gut, and he lets out a heavy breath as he curls inward. He’s glad you’re feeling up to your usual abrasiveness. 

You’ve already moved from your spot and are heading toward the station. He stumbles up after you. 

You stop suddenly. Not that you were really going anywhere. The train for Ten won’t leave without Darla and Darla is chronically late. He nearly runs right into your back, and you see him struggle to regain his balance as you whip around. 

He’s much closer than you thought, and you have to take a small step back. “What’s your number?” 

“What?” He asks, reeling from the near-collision. 

“How am I supposed to call if I don’t have your number?” You ask, and his eyebrows raise at the question. You totally skipped the ‘yes, thank you, what a great idea,’ part he’d been hoping for. But, he’ll take what he can get. He rattles off the number in an instant. 

“Are you going to remember that?” He asks. 

You nod noncommittally, “We’ll see.” The exasperated look on his face pulls another grin from you. He doesn't fight the smile off his face when he sees yours. 

A car door slam breaks your extended eye contact. The other District Ten mentor breezes right past you and Finnick, clearly annoyed at being up so early. You know him well enough to know he’s going right back to bed on this train. 

Darla, however, looks like hell-warmed over. “What the fuck happened to you?”

“Shhhhh,” she holds a finger to her lips, the other clutching her head. Your expression drops as you take in her appearance.

“Are you hungover?!” You try to steal her dark sunglasses, but she’s too quick. 

“Whatever, Mom,” she grumbles, “hurry up and kiss your boyfriend goodbye so we can leave.” She trudges further into the station, where a train is inevitably waiting for you. Your eyes go wide in embarrassment. 

“Darla!” You yell, and she winces at the noise. 

Finnick chuckles, “What happened to moderation?” She throws him the finger, earning further laughter. 

You shake your head at her behavior, and when you turn back to Finnick you find he’s already looking at you. “What?” 

“Nothing,” he shrugs, acting innocent. “Oh wait,” he snaps and doubles back to grab the flowers he arrived with. “You almost forgot these.”  

You shake your head at him, smiling, “Can’t have that can we?” 

“Safe travels,” he nods at you, turning to go. He makes it a few paces before you call out after him. 

“Finnick,” he quickly turns at the sound of his name. When you recite his number back a surprised grin lights up his features. “The uh- the phone works both ways, you know. I’m not a bad listener.” 

“Noted,” he nods, smiling. You smile back at him, a genuine one, and it makes you look younger. A loud call of your name from a train within the station makes the both of you laugh. 

“Bye, Finnick,” you smile at him, giving a cute little wave. He returns it readily.

And he thought he was in trouble before. 

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

@emerald-09

I also didn't really edit this one, but I think I like how it turned out? I'm not sure if I'll write more for this mini-universe since I have a few other Finnick ideas but we'll see

[bamdelune]

tears of the condemned .𖥔 ݁ ˖ neuvillette x reader

summary ➜ The Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale rarely ever made errors in its judgement, suitable persecution befalling those on the other side of the law. The Iudex of Fontaine was well-aware and familiar with that fact but the Oratrice's final verdict cause his judgement to go sideways, because it involved you.

warnings/tags/notes ➜ the summary is a warning in itself, angst [i never payed much attention to neuvillette but seeing a few fics about him got me to write this heheuehe + info and events might be canon-divergent because i haven't unlocked fontaine yet but hey, i tried my best 🤓☝️]

Neuvillette truly did not understand why so many people sought out Fontanian hearings, as if watching the accused and the persecution go back and forth was an amusing routine incorporated in their daily lives. To the citizens, it seemed like hearings were an elaborate play that they could watch for entertainment instead of a catalyst to serve righteousness. The Chief Justice certainly did not have a taste for it, especially when the audience was filled with hushed chatter about the case today: your case; surprise, you do not play the part of the persecution but you are the accused.

Murder, both you and Neuvillette found it impossible to believe you could committ such an act but as the Iudex, he must learn not to let this cloud his judgement; Neuvillette must not his doubts pass the verdict instead of rationality.

"The evidence presented by the plaintiff shows us that there is no concrete reason to convict the defendant," His eyes catch your form relax, even by just a bit from his statement. "However, as practice, the final verdict will be determined by the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale." Silence fills the Opera Epiclese as the mechanism moves between the scales.

Neuvillette's skin goes cold when the Oratrice has decided your fate.

Guilty.

Gasps erupt inside the opera and your expression is filled with dumbfoundedness. This was not the first time this happened but he's learned to trust the Oratrice's judgement over his own.

But can he truly put aside his bias if it meant getting you out of this predicament? Can he truly cross the law, the one aspect that founded everything that he has done so far.

Your voice rips out from the silence, riddled with desperation as you plead out to him.

"That's—that's not true at all! Monsieur Neuvillette, there must be some kind of mistake!"

Neuvillette clenches his fists, head straining from the thoughts that ran through his mind. He knew there was a mistake, he knew that the Oratrice can go against his own verdict but he's conflicted. Should he let you off scot-free or send you to the depths of Fortress of Merop—

"The judgement of the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale is the final verdict of the court. We have no choice but to follow through with it. Please take the suspect into custody," his mouth opens before he could even think about anything else. Neuvillette swallows thickly, seeing the defeated look on your face—as if the stale silence of the courthouse gave way to the sounds of your heart shattering into tiny pieces; the heart that he had promised to take care of so sincerely every day and the heart he swore to never toss away.

The Fortress is a place meant for solitude, for the convicted to reflect on their actions but all you could think of was how dark and scary it was in your cell. It was clean for the most part, that you were thankful for but other than that, all sense of time seemed to blur. It was lonely, but being falsely arrested like this by your beloved helped you feel lonelier. You felt empty, almost numb like a hollow glass that threatened to break with a push that was enough to break and Neuvillette crossing your trust like that was the trigger.

Footsteps resound through the corridor outside your place, your head lifts to see him.

"Why are you here?" Neuvillette seems to almost wince at how your voice sounded so... colorless, deprived of the life he's grown to love. You never intended it to come out that way but being in here rarely gave you the privilege of human interactions, "Are you going to set me free, monsieur?"

The Chief Justice opens and closes his mouth, clearly conflicted on what he was going to say next, because what could you say to your (assumingly former) lover whom you just convicted of a murder in front of the public?

"No," he replies, like he's still in court. You dryly chuckle at his response. "Have you come to reprimand me then? That must be it right? The lover of the Iudex of Fontaine, condemned to a life behind bars at the hands of her own beloved, thst must sound terrible to you, yes? Does a number to your honorable image to the people," Your tone gradually turned more bitter at each word knowing the fact that he could've saved you, or at the very least kept you anywhere but here until the evidence and verdict lined up in agreement.

"I care less about my own image, mon chéri—"

Another gasp of a laugh falls from your lips, "Don't. Don't you dare call me that if you will spit such lies in the same breath."

"Would you rather me threaten the sanctity of my title as Iudex?" Neuvillete responds right after, his tone stern and almost to a level of a scream. You would've flinched if you weren't so agitated.

"I wish you would," you mutter under your breath. You were so desperate for authentic justice to be served. Knowing the citizens of Fontaine, this incident would leave a stain on your image. No matter where you'll go, you aren't free from the scrutinizing eyes of the people. Your life will never be the same.

Neuvillette scoffs, "Do you hear yourself? Do you know what you are asking of me?" He was angry now. See, when he gets irritated, Neuvillette is never the type to aggressively express such a feeling but rather, he emits a silent aura that just unsettles you to an extent. But you have to stand your ground.

"Such a selfish request for your circumstances."

Now it's your turn to huff an exhale, hurt gnawing at your chest at every word he spoke.

"Selfish? I'm selfish for asking for justice for a horrendous act of violence both you and I know I never committed?"

Your voice almost gave out under the weight of the sting of your chest, nearly cracking as you raise your voice at him, "You know the Oratrice can make mistakes, Neuvillette—"

"The Oratrice's judgement is absolute, it does not make errors," the man interjects. A beat of silence stays.

"You never believed my words, even for a moment, didn't you?"

Neuvillette swallows, eyes somehow on your face but never on your eyes. He's hyper-aware of the fact that he's hurt you more than enough times he promised not to, never. He always promised that he wouldn't be the one to shatter your heart into tiny pieces and crush them under the soles of his feet. He was the one that vowed to stay by your side amidst the intimidating whispers that talk, talk, and talk about how you would murder an innocent citizen in cold blood. And now he knew.

He had gone back on his word.

It doesn't take him a reply before you started again. "You lied to me," you muttered.

"You're correct, I never believed you for one second," Neuvillette responds, voice low. His mouth opens before he could even think about it.

No. He always would. Over anyone and anything else.

He cringes slightly at this. The Iudex of Fontaine behind closed doors was a complex man. He is built of layers upon layers of emotional concealing, it was never a good thing for him to blatantly open up to someone—but of course, that changed because of you.

"You're foolish to think you could've slipped past the Oratrice's verdict,"

You didn't. He knew that, you did nothing wrong.

"The time has come for you to pay your dues." Neuvillette fronts.

Let me get you out of here. Neuvillette pleads

You fall silent by the tail of his words, barely getting enough courage to look him in the eye. Too much, it was all too much.

"Just—just leave, I don't want to see you," you mumble, defeated. Your eyes catch the way salty tears softly drip onto your clenched fists, wiping your face with the back of your hand. If you were alone in a lonely cell, so be it.

You hear his footsteps hesitate for a moment before they clack away, getting softer and farther with each step.

Heavy rain littered the streets of Fontaine that day.

Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, wipe the tears from your face. Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don't cry.

© bamdelune 2023. do not repost, translate, plagiarize any of my works without permission, thank you so much! reblogs, notes, and comments are always appreciated!

[mtkay13]

Two illustrations of the "are you sincere?" scene, TYK, chapter 65.

More words below! VERY VERY LONG POST AHEAD

It's probably one of the most famous scenes of the book, considering it's the closest to an actual, outspoken declaration of feelings. Funnily enough, my first reaction to the scene was that of frustration, since WenZhou get once again interrupted, and the running gag + horniness distracted me from everything else that was going on in that scene which I now consider to be truly incredible, imo.

Those two illustrations, but mainly the second one, mainly take from one small paragraph in particular, but I will elaborate a little bit on other parts as well. First, though, a translation of the scene:

[...] Wen Kexing raised his head, looked at him. The lamp's light softening Zhou Zishu's chiselled features shone through his eyes, and Wen Kexing was lost in thoughts— He felt like he and this man had known each other for such a long time. From the moment he'd noticed his shoulderblades, felt this rush of excitement, to when he'd started liking who Zhou Zishu was, when he'd thought——so this is the Commander of Tian Chuang. Suddenly, he'd felt as if he'd met his other self. Both of them, lone wolves caught in a hunter's trap, struggling for freedom to no avail, until they had resolved to coldly gnawing off their own legs in the end. He'd felt compelled to follow him around, watched him, until he suddenly realised—if Zhou Zishu could live like this, then surely, so could he? He thought, and thought, until he fell, fell deep until he couldn't climb out anymore. Wen Kexing absent-mindedly reached out to gently caress Zhou Zishu's face, only brushing him with his fingertips. He felt a slight chill from contact of Zhou Zishu's rough skin against his own palm littered with scars and callouses. All of a sudden, he blurted: "Don't die. Should you die and leave me behind, I would be so lonely..." Zhou Zishu grasped his wrist, but didn't shake him off. He smiled: "As long as there is the slightest chance for me to live, I won't die. My life is mine, my gong-fu is mine. The Heavens granted me this fate, and taking it back from me won't be that easy." Zhou Zishu's breath brushed against Wen Kexing's fingers. He squinted, then said, seemingly deep in thoughts: "Once upon a time, an owl knocked over the bowl of red water carried by a villager..." Zhou Zishu looked at him and, his expression unchanged, he gently asked the question he'd already asked before: "Why was the villager carrying a bowl of red water?" Wen Kexing's lips slowly stretched into a smile, and he answered: "Water is colourless, but should blood trickle into it, wouldn't it turn red?" Zhou Zishu still looked at him but remained quiet. As if Wen Kexing's spirits had suddenly returned to him, his faraway gaze coming back into focus.

"Ah-Xu, you should sleep with me once," Wen Kexing said, his eyes smiling up into crescent moons. "This way, we'll have each other in our hearts; so you won't die so easily, and neither will I. How does that sound?" His tone was playful, but Zhou Zishu didn't banter back; he merely watched Wen Kexing with an odd glint in his eyes, and after a moment, he asked: "Are you sincere?" Wen Kexing chuckled, leaned forward so that his breath was brushing against Zhou Zishu's lips: "Can't you tell, if I'm sincere or not?" Zhou Zishu faintly startled, before he replied in a low voice: "I... I really can't. I haven't seen much sincerity in my life, and can hardly discern it. So, are you?" Wen Kexing's fingers climbed up along the curve of Zhou Zishu's shoulder, and he tugged his bun loose. His black, silky hair cascaded down, at once making the hardened man appear a few shades more fragile. Wen Kexing's playful smile faded, and in a soft, yet deeply grounded voice, he said: "I am." He closed his eyes, and pressed his lips to Zhou Zishu's, finally lifting the heavy turmoil from his heart. Zhou Zishu slowly reached up, a long moment passing before he rested his hand upon Wen Kexing's shoulder, gripping his robes with his fingers. [...]

Phew that was a bit long but it felt necessary! TL by me.

Obviously, the second illustration is based on this passage:

"Wen Kexing's fingers climbed up along the curve of Zhou Zishu's shoulder, and he tugged his bun loose. His black, silky hair cascaded down, at once making the hardened man appear a few shades more fragile," which I have lost my mind about too many times to count. I feel like the contrast between this and the mention of Zhou Zishu's rough skin, and his assured words above, is very cool.

About the scene itself, while I guess it's mostly self-explanatory, I feel like mentioning what particularly touches me here:

I think that Wen Kexing's impression of Zhou Zishu, his freedom, "the way he lives", is really the core of what moved Wen Kexing in the first place. It is also echoing that scene, back in Dongting, when Wen Kexing watches Zhou Zishu lazily sitting in a restaurant, feeling what could be interpreted as resentment or envy when he sees how free he looks.

Wen Kexing unconsciously halted his steps. He stared at Zhou Zishu’s relaxed silhouette for a while, with no trace of an expression in his face or eyes. His heart swelled with some strange feeling—strange, in that it was no feeling at all. He felt as though this man was mocking him with this wordless posture; he who rushed around for one thing or another, who was burdened with so many cares, yet obstinately put on a devil-may-care persona. Zhou Xu—as carefree as duckweed, he thought, with a body like willow catkins. In all the world, with its boundless perspectives, where could you find someone who walked their path alone and never allowed anything to trouble them?

(TL by Lianzi)

Wen Kexing longs for him, to be like him, to be free like him; they both came to having to hurt themselves to be free of their shackles, but Zhou Zishu kept living freely afterwards.

By evoking the red water, the past he could never tell straightforwardly, I think that Wen Kexing is expressing how this past of him has been his shackles and how now, he wishes to follow along, to follow Zhou Zishu in his freedom.

And then, Zhou Zishu's words—they almost feel like his own confession, to me. Later, by the tree as well, his words refer to life, the will to live, and not being really direct, it sounds like his way of telling Wen Kexing, "I am serious about you." Wen Kexing was the first one to hold onto his life, to want for Zishu to live, and now Zishu follows along.

His words feel so powerful, and said so straightforwardly, baring himself to Wen Kexing like that, it makes so much sense for me to expect, finally, a proper confession from him as well, considering how each and every one of Wen Kexing's declarations have so far been over the top, jokey or deflected one way or another. Of course, I also think that Zishu does feel some form of insecurity, does need reassurance, and is gambling a lot here, but I guess... he's essentially worked to bare himself and expects the same in return.

ANYWAY. I think this is a gorgeous scene. I DO think, for balance, that the ending is a bit abrupt and that they would have deserved for Priest not to undermine the emotions right away—for that does take away from it a bit and distracts (calling back, once again, to the tired running gag of "oops they're interrupted). Not that the joke shouldn't have come up, but it could have waited a bit more.

But yeah! Thanks for reading!

[railingsofsorrow]

I can see it

[emily prentiss x reader]

summary: you and your girlfriend make plans for the future.

pairing: e.p x f!reader

w.c: 1K

warnings/content: making future plans; discussion about having kids and marriage; two girlfriends being incredibly cute and cheesy; sergio our little king!!; spelling errors.

A/N: i feel like there isn't enough emily prentiss fluff in here so I decided to add my own. (I wish there were more bau!women fics!!!)

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

would you like to enter my taglist?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“what? why are you looking at me like that?”

on one of the rarest days that you had a day-off, you and emily would rather have a stay-at-home movie night instead of going out. some popcorn filled with butter and chocolate to accompany.

you were cuddling on the couch as an old rom-com played on the TV, her feet intertwined with yours and her arms caging you in her hold.

you could feel her stare burning in your cheek for about five minutes now. to see the faint blush growing in her neck because she was caught was a sight to behold.

“nothing.” she muttered, shifting under your gaze, biting her lip to hold back a grin.

“is there something on my face?” you said, poking her cheek. “or is it because you love me too much that you can't bear not look at me?”

“shut up.” emily rolled her eyes, her lower lip jutting out. a chuckle escaped from you and when she looked at you again, she had that fond gaze that made her eyes sparkle.

you felt her cold hands on your cheeks before her lips touched yours. emily's hands were always cold, even on the warmest days of the year. you always used it as an excuse to wrap your hands around hers, to warm it up because you're always cold, love.

in spite of the coldness in her fingertips, emily prentiss was the sun personified to you. she made you feel better by just her presence alone and her smile was contagious. it brought warmth and comfort to your chest. you loved that woman more than you loved anyone else in your entire life. and it was scary, frightening, even. and it was beautiful, because with her by your side, you could face the horrors of the world every day, knowing that you'd be okay in the end.

“i was just thinking...” emily mumbled in-between kisses. “that I could, you know, see it.”

you hummed, thumb grazing her jaw tenderly. “see what, baby?”

emily leaned down, kissing the tip of your nose as her mouth stretched into a soft grin.

“what?” you said, now feeling shy because of how she was looking at you. “stop being all cryptic.” you laughed, hiding your face behing your hands. you felt the sofa shift under your girlfriend's movements. both of your hands are pulled away from your face by hers, gently. the touch of an angel.

“i can see it. a future.” she elaborated, brushing your hair behind your ear. “me, you, sergio, maybe someone else. I can clearly picture it.” you blinked at her, lips parting as if you were about to say something and then you closed them again.

you weren't expecting that.

yes, you and emily have discussed the possibility of having a future together, which you were already working on. you've recently moved in together, you're talking about adopting another cat and maybe a dog — though emily isn't very fond of them but you're working on your persuasion skills — and marriage is something you both have agreed on, but in the right time, not now.

kids, however, you haven't touched this topic yet. you've seen emily around children, her awkwardness existed only in the beginning, because she would be a natural five minutes later. and she'd act just like them. you liked children, she likes children, you just never thought it could be a possibility for the two of you.

the idea doesn't sound bad. it doesn't sound bad at all.

“someone else as in—”

“a new member to the family.” she sat up, bringing your hands to her lap. her gaze was careful, hesitant, but you could see it in her eyes the determination that meant she has been pondering over this for a while. “a baby? I don't— I know we've never discussed it but—” you cut her off by crashing your lips to hers. she emitted a sound of surprise but she eventually kisses you just as intensely. her shoulders lowered, the tension that was previously there is gone.

emily exhales slowly, her forehead resting on yours for the time being. “what was that for?” she questioned. when her eyes fluttered open, your lips are the first thing she sees. they're swollen and red, practically begging to be kissed again.

i can see it. a future.

me, you, sergio, maybe someone else.

your heart could burst out of your chest. if that proposition was something you hadn't even think about considering, now it just sounded and looked right.

a family with the woman you loved? that couldn't be more perfect.

when you thought there was just no way that you were able to love emily prentiss more than you already did...

“i can see it too,” you let out in a whisper, your voice weak, you didn't have strength to speak because you fet like crying. “emily, I want everything with you. everything.”

she studied your features thoroughly, hope and a tinge of desperation in her voice as she asked if what you were saying was true. if you really wanted this. if you meant it.

“i love you. I love you. I love you.” she repeated over and over again as she laid kisses across your entire face, jaw, neck, everywhere she could reach. it rendered you into a mess of giggles.

“cheesy.” you finally stopped her attack by locking her up against you with your legs wrapped around her middle.

emily gave you a dopey-grin, joy sipping through the crinkles in the corner of her eyes. “only for you.”

you beamed at her, kissing her cute nose. “yes, only for me.”

suddenly, a soft weight settled upon your shoulders, causing both of you to jump slightly. emily groaned at sergio's fussing between the two of you. he wanted attention.

when he finally settled on the spot you've made available on the couch, you scratched behind his ear, feeling his purring against your touch.

“we can be cheesy for you too, baby.” you whispered to the cat. he leaned his head into your hand, begging for more affection. you smiled.

when you looked up, emily still had that fond gaze that made her dark eyes sparkle.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A/N: sorry for this shitty ending. I couldn't come up with anything better.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

taglist: @lilyviolets

[riize119]

Soulmate! Anton⋆｡𖦹°‧⊹₊ ⋆

Soulmates work in the oddest way

• There isn't a set way to how you're supposed to find them or just know who is for you

• As far as you know, anyway

• Everyone else in your family either has the distinguishable mark on their body in the same place as their soulmate, or were given a time and place to be that suddenly appeared whenever the universe decided that they were ready

• You, on the other hand, had not even a single clue

• But you didn't mind

•You thought that it was kinda boring to just know who it is anyway

• Where was the adventure? The thrill of piecing it all together for yourself?

• Of course, there's always the problem that you get it wrong and have to try again but

• Whatever!!

• Right?

• As for Anton, he's been in shock ever since he was ten years old

• A rare soulmate story for some couples ends up being that one has known forever while the other had no idea

• In this case, it’s you having no idea.

•Anton, knowing, and being terrified to tell you for almost a decade

• It probably wouldn't have been such an issue if you two weren't best friends throughout your entire childhood

• He often doubted that you were his soulmate, only because you just seemed to show zero interest in him in t h a t way

• But you only did that to not be selfish

• You liked Anton. Actually, you loved him

• He was your closest friend and no matter what the situation was, your spirits were always bright and happy whenever you were with him

• You always heard that those kind of feelings were perpetual whenever you were with your soulmate, so you found yourself wondering if Anton could be yours

• But years have passed with no hint towards it being true, so you pushed the intruding thoughts away every time you saw him

• You were content with just being friends though

• And oddly content with not finding your soulmate if you were happy enough with the friendship and life you already had

• Which made Anton worry

• The simple solution would be to just tell you the truth

• Pros: you two are soulmates and live happily ever after

• Cons: the universe messed up and that turns out to be a big joke and it's his fault for messing things up

• Now, he knows that's elaborate, but still can't help but question why you've never asked him yet

• So here comes the help of Sohee, the "golden boy" of your trio, as you both like to say

• He always has the best advice and outlook for everyone around him, so what better thing to do than ask him about this?

• The only thing is is that he already can see that you two are meant for each other

• Neither of you had said a single thing about it, though. Not until Anton’s last thread of hope started to fray

• "So.. you've known for several years...”

• "Yes"

• “And you haven't said a single thing to them?"

• “Right"

• "Well why not?"

• "Because I don't know if they're my soulmate"

• “…”

• And Sohee just stares at him for a while before nodding his head and continued eating

• Because “how else am I supposed to help Anton if Anton won't believe first?”

• So, Sohee apologizes to the universe for interfering with the work of fate first before talking to you

• He hates seeing his friends in this position, especially if it's an issue regarding their entire life

•And he texts you randomly

• “You never talk about it, but I wanna know. Who do you have a crush on?"

• Getting the notification scares you because???

• Why would he suddenly ask you this?

• But you still reply,

• "We can't have crushes, remember?"

• In which he comes back with

• "We're only human. We have crushes, so who's yours?"

• Some time passes before you say anything, quickly becoming anxious

• You've never felt scared to talk about Anton before, so why now?

• "You can't tell Anton...”

• And you explain every bit and ounce of your feelings for him to Sohee, who is smiling so wide on the other end (as he screenshots every message and sends them to Anton in real time

• Who then proceeds to panic

• Even though it's confirmed that you definitely are his soulmate, he's scared that you'll be mad for not telling him sooner

• And also mad at the fact that Sohee told him after you asked him not to

• So the next time you see Anton, he looks almost queasy from how much he's holding in It worries you, so you just ask

• "Are you gonna be okay? You don't look well...”

• He stares back for a while, not really processing your question and almost tuning out the entire world to focus on what he had to tell you before it really made him sick

• He couldn't even hear himself when he told you, his mouth going on autopilot until he saw your reaction

• Not the reaction he was expecting though

• Seeing you smile so big and bright and then laughing at his change in expression from scared to confused still worried him, but in a different sense

• "God…..I've been waiting for you to tell me for so long!" You said, immediately going to hold both of his hands in yours

• And the shock that immediately ran through his body caused him to freeze before he could say anything to you

• The shock being that your reaction was positive after he already rehearsed your rejection

• "But…how did you already know?" he asks

• You laugh a little at how oblivious hes been all this time

• "I've always felt it. I just wanted to spare myself of embarrassment if it wasn't you and just boldly stated that it is. I should've known though...but you, on the other hand, have know this forever and still never said? Why?"

• He gets nervous again, thinking about how silly his reasoning was

• *I just didn't want it to make things awkward for us, you know?"

• You nod while smiling at him again

• "But fate makes it so that everything works in our favor. It was gonna happen sooner or later, and I guess later is now"

• Finally getting a smile out of Anton, he holds your hands tighter, swinging them a little, side to side, before asking his final question

• “I really do love you. Even before I knew we were soulmates, I liked you so much it was almost embarrassing..do you think that if fate didn't exist, we'd end up together still?"

• "I was already daydreaming about us being together before all of this happened, so of course” you tell him, making his expression brighter by the second

• "So now that it's official, we've gotta go tell Sohee thank you" he said, standing up and holding just one of you hands now to lead the way

• "..he sent you my confessions, didn't he?"

• "Let's not worry about that until another time"

[yesimwriting]

how old are they? (best friend!felix x reader)

short answer: felix is late 19/20, reader feels late 17/18 (i like the thought of reader having skipped a grade bc one of her main insecurities is constantly wanting to seem older bc being mature is the one thing her dad prasied her for)

elaboration below the cut!!

i saw a picture of Saltburn's script that says felix is supposed to be 20,, ig that could be wrong bc of editing/verification,,

i don't remember his age ever being explicitly stated in the movie though, but i feel like it's implied (through his status/familiarity in an on campus routine) that he's not a first year/a little bit older than oliver, but i do picture felix as 20 (maybe late 19 if i ever want to write a blurb where reader and felix are celebrating his birthday)

also it just feels like a good age for him! just starting to get his foothold in the adult world, enough youthful idealism still in his system to want to make someone as "tragic" as oliver his project when a safer choice would have been someone a little shinier,, and just as he's leaving his teenage years behind, he dies (ironically and arguably bc of the youthfully naive concepts his family life would have encouraged him to keep into adulthood) :(

so now instead of being forever 20 bc of his comfortable life style, he's forever 20 bc he has to be,, in a way oliver got to know the only version of felix he would ever know but i digress

bestfriendreader feels like a 17/18 year old freshman to me (hear me out),, i like reader as a freshman bc it's one more thing that should make reader feel closer to oliver,, but she just doesn't, which adds to their dynamic that i haven't shared much of but i will!!

also,, i see bestfriend!reader as someone that's spent their entire life hanging out with people a little older, constantly striving to seem more mature/be a grown up bc her mom's a free spirit and her dad only praises her when she handles his disappointments "like an adult"

also something about bestfriend!reader being on campus for like two weeks, hearing every story on earth about felix and his friends that he's more of an enigma than person (campus celebrity vibes) that she doubts is that impressive until he sits down next to her in class and starts talking is cute idk,, like reader not even realizing how big a deal felix's interest in her is until one of her friend's is like dude.

it's the kind of luckiness that oliver originally hates her for,, reader walked onto campus,, new to oxford,, new to the country, and still manages to snag felix's attention without even trying

idk if the age gap is weird tho😭 (i'm 20 rn and would never date a 17/18 year old but my best friend is 18, started college at 17 bc she was ahead a year and when she was that age she dated 19/20 year olds that went to school with her and that didn't feel weird bc they have enough in common bc of their setting) sooo i'm open to reader having an early enough birthday that she's 18 by the time her and felix get close,, i like the idea of writing a birthday fic anyway lol

[stedefxckingbonnet]

If you're doing izzy x reader requests I'd love to see something along the lines of reader killing someone for the first time either to keep Izzy safe or because someone threatened to kill him. With izzy just being shocked/honored that someone would do that for him and it makes him a little bit starry-eyed. Obviously if you're not vibing with this feel free to just use parts or ignore it all together 🖤 thanks for keeping the izzy x reader fics alive

Firstly, thank you so much for that last sentence—words like those motivate me so much more, and bring me so much joy! Thank you to all of you who have welcomed me with open arms, as I sorta feel like I arrived here out of nowhere!! I hope this one does your request justice; how could I ignore it, it's absolutely amazing! Enjoy the rest of your day or night, lovely stranger, and I hope you enjoy this as well! it brought me joy to write and I hope it brings you even more joy to read ♡

P.S. More longer fics coming soon, I promise! I'm still just dipping my toes back in to writing these, and I hope the lengths have been okay thus far! I may even revisit some of these first ones I'm writing down the line and elaborate upon them, if that's something you'd all be interested in.

Eternity | Izzy Hands x Reader

Warnings: death (not of a major character or reader!), mentions of blood, mentions of choking, brief violence beginning and escalating quickly, some language, kissing

Word count: 2755

There was one thing you absolutely dreaded that just seemed to come with the price of being a pirate, almost like a rite of passage—murder. You were lucky enough to have crew mates beside you with the exact opposite opinion to do your biddings for you because, let's face it, even if you didn't want the blood directly upon your hands, there were still people you thought deserved to die, for the safety of yourself and the crew. But the thought of seeing the life escape a person at your own discretion was a thought that absolutely haunted you. Even while sailing with Blackbeard on the Queen Anne you had managed to avoid such a situation. Still, you had always promised yourself that if it were absolutely necessary, you wouldn't hold it against yourself too much. You sighed at that thought, your face slumping into the palm of your hand as you finished your breakfast. Certain mornings, you preferred to rise earlier in order to avoid eating with the crew as much as you absolutely loved them, and Roach understood this, thankfully. Every night before you retreated to your quarters after Stede wove his bedtime tales, he would always discreetly pull you aside and ask whether you would be joining them in the morning and he was always prepared for either response, setting your meal at your usual spot at the table. This had been going on for quite awhile, and you always worried the crew would find out and then take it personally. But, no one ever had.

Though, you were confused as to why there was a second meal beside yours. You tried to eat as quickly as you possibly could in order to avoid whoever it was that might be joining you but of course, you were a smidge too late. Luckily for you, it was none other than Izzy Hands—for others, this would be an unlucky thing, but not for you. Never for you. You almost allowed yourself to smile at his appearance.

"What are you doing awake at this hour?"

"I could ask you the same thing," you shrugged as he sat beside you.

"Just haven't been liking starting my day with twats," he shrugged back, which earned a laugh from you.

"Am I included in that lot?" You couldn't help but tease him. He always acted annoyed when you did, but you saw right through his act.

"Fuck off," Izzy laughed quietly.

"Aww, I don't get the special treatment?"

"Why should you?" Anyone else would have thought Izzy was pissed off, but you knew better than that. He knew he was teasing you back, or at least, you hoped so. But you knew for a fact he wasn't really annoyed with you.

"Well, we go way back—don't we, Israel?"

Izzy chuckled. It seemed half-hearted, but you knew it was actually genuine, which warmed your heart that you could bring such sweet melodies out of him. "I suppose we do, yes."

"And I do all my chores before you even ask me to, and I get them done fast and still do a good job," you added, only sort of faux smugly.

"You want a sticker for that?" Izzy retorted.

"Wouldn't mind it," you laughed, sighing of relief as you did so. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a smile almost spread across Izzy's usually stone-cold visage, like one of a marble statue. You couldn't help but smile yourself. "Sorry if I kind of rained on your desirably lonesome parade this morning."

"You didn't," Izzy replied nonchalantly, but you knew this was his way of saying he enjoyed your company. You knew him long enough to know that. "I'm glad it's you and not Stede fucking Bonnet."

You chuckled, your eyes rolling in addition. "Yeah. Could've been a lot worse. But, a word of advice—if you don't want to be stampeded by a starving group of "twats", we'd better get going in the next minute or so."

Izzy's eyes widened and he quickly downed the rest of his meal before disposing properly of whatever leftovers you both had. You protested for a moment, claiming you could toss your own remains away, but he insisted, only on behalf that it would make escaping a lot quicker. Once again you saw right through this. You had always found Izzy's funny ways of showing you that he cared about you endearing. You wouldn't trade any of it for the world, as ecstatic as you would be to really hear or see him express appreciation for you. You giggled as the two of you rushed out onto the deck—the sun had just risen, painting the sky a sort of orange and pink hue and birds could be heard singing from a distance, if you listened hard enough. It was breathtaking. it made waking up this early in the morning worthwhile. You looked over at Izzy, who seemed to be somewhat taken by such a sight, until his lips curled into an intentional frown.

"Izzy?" you asked, trying to snap him out of his thoughts. "What is it?"

"Oh," Izzy laughed breathlessly. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."

You didn't buy that for a second, but you also knew it wasn't worth your time or energy to press him. You knew how stubborn Izzy could be, and how because of this, he never wanted anyone else's help in any capacity. But he was more pensive than usual; something seemed to be plaguing him, and it plagued you knowing you would most likely never know what it could have been. Without another word, Izzy was out of your sight before you even noticed he left your side. You sighed, almost slumping against the railing. Cheering could be heard from the dining room, but you knew you would catch wind of whatever the excitement was in just moments. Before you could wonder any further, Olu and Black Pete rushed onto the deck to announce the day would be spent on land. You smiled to yourself, thinking perhaps you could get Izzy to join you on an endeavor or two. You rushed over to him with a hopeful glint in your eyes.

"Did you hear? We get a day off!"

"Oh, joy," Izzy mumbled sarcastically. "I should stay behind, watch the ship. Someone has to do it."

"But you did that last time," you pouted. "Come on, Iz. It could be—

"—What? Fun? I doubt it."

You sighed for what felt like a millionth time. You were almost out of breath, but you weren't going to give up this easily. If only you could show Izzy that the world held more wonders to behold, despite all that he had claimed to already have seen in all his years. Or maybe, just maybe, if he saw how much it would mean to you.

"Today is too beautiful a day to waste," you claimed, hoping so much that he would take the hint.

Izzy paused to ponder it. He craned his neck over to meet your eyes. "I suppose I could spare an hour or two."

You almost jumped for joy right there and then, but you only nodded in his line of sight, then allowing for a grin to dominate your expression as you walked away, ready to get off of the ship. Izzy followed behind, and the crew knew better than to follow just yet. Once the two of you stepped onto the dock, then everyone followed suit.

"Don't tell me we're going into some trashy tavern," Izzy grumbled quietly. This sort of surprised you—all these years, did Izzy fake enjoying all of the drinks he would get for himself, talking with others for hours at these establishments? You didn't necessarily adore it either, but Izzy never complained about it.

"I was thinking the pawnshop first, if that's alright with you?" you proposed. "I have a few things I want to get off my hands but don't want in the hands of just anyone."

"Better than what everyone else has going on," he shrugged. You led the way, seeming to know this place like the back of your hand even though to Izzy's knowledge, you had never been here before. But, what did he know of your life before the Queen Anne? He wished he knew more, but he didn't even know where to begin. Flat out asking you didn't seem like it was on the table, as happy as you would be to reveal anything he asked of you, and even happier to hear of his own life that existed prior. Without another thought of this, you led Izzy down a few winding paths until finally, you reached your first stop, not knowing it would actually be the last for the day. You rushed up to the door to hold it open for Izzy, a grin making its way onto your face once again, unknowingly.

"What do ya know, chivalry isn't dead," Izzy muttered but you saw the corners of his mouth rise. With this, you followed behind him, making sure to gently shut the door behind you. You reached into your pocket, revealing a small red velvet sachet. You waltzed right over to the oak countertop, revealing a few shining silver and gold rings and chains, the same smile still existing upon you.

"I can offer you quite a bit for these," the shopkeeper started. "But something your friend over there has interests me far more."

He pointed at Izzy's neck, which only made him self consciously clutch his cravat.

"I'm only offering you what's in front of you," you told the shopkeeper.

"And he isn't right in front of me?" he retaliated.

"You're saying you don't want any of this?"

"No," he sounded as if he were about to snap. "I want all this, and your friend's necktie."

"Well, you aren't getting it, I'm sorry," you spoke sincerely. "But I am happy to offer you any and all of this."

Before you knew it, the shop owner barged out from behind the countertop and planted himself right in front of Izzy's face. He began to undo Izzy's cravat himself while Izzy tried to swat him away, but you weren't going to allow this to happen. You made your way over and tried to pry him off of Izzy, to which you were slapped for trying to do so. You clutched your cheek, almost shouting in pain. Izzy and the owner's struggle was beginning to grow more violent and much more personal than it should have been, and you had never felt more helpless in your entire life. The shop owner had Izzy on the ground and began to choke him, and before you could think it through, you were on the floor, viciously grabbing this stranger by the collar, turning him to face you. You already had your dagger in your other hand and stabbed him right in the heart, wincing as you did so, as the blood spilled out onto his white shirt, and bits of it splattered across your own face. As soon as you were sure he was a goner, you released his body onto the ground. Your dagger slipped out of your hands as you rushed over to your Izzy to help him up. He wasn't ready to stand, you quickly realized, so you sat beside him and rubbed his back as he coughed and tried to regain oxygen.

"You're okay," you cooed, attempting to soothe the man before you. He couldn't muster a word, but he immediately locked eyes with you and his breath seemed to return to him. "You're okay," you repeated for the sake of no one but yourself this time, tears welling in your eyes and streaming down your cheeks.

Izzy looked at you with such a disbelief written all over his face. You, who used to shrivel into yourself at the mere mention of blood. You, who declared to never take someone's life unless absolutely necessary—oh yes, he recalled such a proclamation, loud and clear in the early days of the Queen Anne, and he remembered thinking it absolutely ridiculous. He remembered thinking you wouldn't survive a day bearing that mindset. Yet, you still persisted, and sailed the seas beside him for what felt like an eternity. Normally, Izzy would describe an eternity in such a way that it felt dreary and undesirable, but with you, an eternity was nowhere near enough. If he could, he would spend multiple eternities with you and it still wouldn't be enough. He looked at you as if you were the only other person in the world. Sometimes, he wished you were. Sometimes, he wished it could just be the two of you. Death had never been this close to meeting him, but now that it had, his mortality felt far too real, and his feelings towards you felt far too hidden. Even before this moment, every time the two of you were in close proximity to one another, his heart felt heavy with all of the tenderness he held onto for you, barely being able to contain it and his heart being warm almost felt concerning to him if it hadn't been such a pleasant experience. And it was a bit concerning to him that it felt nice. Especially in this moment, he knew he couldn't conceal himself much longer, not after you had been so willing to sacrifice someone else's life for his. He was honored that you went against your own word for him, of all people.

"Izzy, are you alri—"

Before you could finish your question, and perhaps say anything else in addition, Izzy's lips were on yours. He tried to wipe the blood off of you with his gloved hand the best he could as you kissed him back with such fervor, such longing. You had wanted this for what felt like an eternity. This was what you thought of every time Izzy walked into a room, and even anytime he wasn't close by. There were some moments you couldn't even be around him in fear that you would embarrass yourself and accidentally pour out your heart to him. You never thought this would be happening, you never thought Izzy would even fathom half of what you possibly felt for him, nor even feel any of the same ways. But with all the discreetly exchanged glances, the "accidental" brushes against one another, the excessive lingering while you did your tasks some days, the following your lead whenever you had those scarce days on land, even finding out from Roach the night before that you would be eating your breakfast alone the following morning, there was simply no way Izzy didn't return your sentiments, even if he wasn't quick to show it. Eventually, Izzy had to disconnect his lips from yours, almost gasping for air again. A giggle escaped your lips as he gently tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, and he showed a smile that you had never before seen. You could have sworn your heart somehow gained a mind of its own and began doing backflips—how did it learn to do such a trick?

"I can't believe you did that for me," Izzy beamed, reminiscent of some sort of beacon or lighthouse.

You smiled sheepishly. "Are you mad?"

"The opposite, actually. I know your feelings about killing, and yet—"

"—It was worth it," you assured him, tracing patterns along the small of his back. "You are worth it."

Without another word as you both stood up, your fingers intertwined with his, the ungloved hand, and you slowly made your way back to the ship together, knowing no one else would be there to entice you into any antics. For a moment, it could and it would feel like you and your Izzy were the only two people in the world. You knew this moment wouldn't last forever, but it would already be one to cherish for the rest of eternity, and you hoped that now, you and Izzy could spend the rest of whatever that looked like together, thought it felt like you already have been. Only now, you could look over at him like he was your world, because he is, and not worry about what he would think. Now, he could hold you close to him and whisper everything he's dreamed of ever sharing with you since knowing you. Now, the two of you could truly share your love for one another beyond the end of time.

[marie-mcd]

There's a specific concept from Good Omens that I really like (amongst many others), that I was chuffed to also find in a Sandman and a Discworld story!

I love that in Good Omens (both book and TV), Heaven and Hell are presented as mostly redundant and ineffectual when it comes to human morality - and that Hell in particular find some of the things humans do to be pretty shocking, and/or instructive.

Opportunities for humour aside, this idea flies in the face of the common belief that the world's worst ills are the result of outside forces influencing people to do evil (ie the devil. Or ... lizard people etc? I digress). And it's unlike other stories out there that are like, "World War II was actually caused by xyz characters!" or similar. Good Omens doesn't rewrite history like that, or let us - humanity - off the hook when it comes to the big stuff, when it could so easily have done so in a universe where Heaven and Hell are literally real.

The story, of course, also credits human cleverness to humans, and celebrates the things we should be proud of, like art, music, delicious food, craftmanship, invention, etc. And it credits humans for having a propensity for compassion and goodness.

"[Crowley] did his best to make their short lives miserable, because that was his job, but nothing he could think up was half as bad as the stuff they thought up themselves. […] And just when you'd think they were more malignant than ever Hell could be, they could occasionally show more grace than Heaven ever dreamed of. Often the same individual was involved."

I love this concept because I see it as an uncoupling of religion and morality. They can both exist together, but the former isn't necessary for the latter. (This isn't the only possible interpretation; the more literal reading might be more about free will, but this is where I extrapolated it to).

From Sandman: Season of Mists Episode 2 (plot context stripped out to avoid spoilers, but skip ahead to black text if you want absolutely nothing spoiled if you want to read it).

Lucifer: "And the mortals! I ask you - why? […] Why do they blame me for all their little failings? They use my name as if I spend my entire day sitting on their shoulders, forcing them to commit acts they would otherwise find repulsive. 'The devil made me do it.' I have never made one of them do anything. Never. They live their own tiny lives. I do not live their lives for them."

And from Eric, a Discworld book (this one's related to Hell learning from humans, more than morality/free will... I won't spoil the funny by elaborating!):

"Earl Beezlemoth rubbed one of his three noses.

'And humans somewhere thought this up all by themselves?' he said. 'We didn't give them any, you know, hints?' […]

The earl stared into infinity. 'I thought we were supposed to be the ghastly ones,' he said, his voice filled with awe."

Another commonality between these two stories that isn't directly shared by Good Omens (yet...? still have another season coming …) but that I like enough to point out, is the idea that Hell is a place where people end up if they believe they deserve to go there. I like this because a lot of people are influenced to feel guilty about "sins" that are innocuous parts of normal human behaviour, so it's pretty brutal to fear going to Hell over them. There's comfort in this idea, to me. (granted, the following Sandman quote states this less explicitly but I take the same meaning from it … but lmk if I've done a reading incomprehension; I also haven't read all the books yet).

From Sandman:

Lucifer: "And then [the mortals] die, and they come here (having transgressed against what they believed to be right), and expect us to fulfill their desire for pain and retribution. I don't make them come here."

From Eric (partial footnote near the beginning):

"Interestingly enough, the gods of the Disc have never bothered much about judging the souls of the dead, and so people only go to hell if that's where they believe, in their deepest heart, that they deserve to go."

Eric also really leans into the idea of Hell being a bureaucratic, corporate, boring nightmare, also familiar to Good Omens fans, and the demons are so over it. The tone (you could probably guess) is very different from Sandman, and it's one of the earlier, less-serious Discworld books; it's a very fun, absurd ride of a read!

There are a few other Discworld books I'll talk about in a future post, that may also be of interest to certain Good Omens fans (I'm gearing these posts toward the fans who came to Good Omens from the TV show and haven't had the pleasure of discovering Neil's and Terry's other work yet); the ones I have in mind examine religious extremism, and the uncoupling of religion and morality too. A couple of them also have queer themes, if that is also your jam! (Less shipping opportunities but I assume some fans, like me, like the rest of the material in GO in addition to the love story).

I'll end this with a quote from a footnote from Eric that has nothing to do with anything in this post, but which took me by surprise and had me laughing days later whenever it came to mind. It's referring to books in a section of the library:

"Just erotic. Nothing kinky. It's the difference between using a feather and using a chicken."

And another bonus one that I found while looking for the first:

"Rincewind had been told that death was just like going into another room. The difference is, when you shout, 'Where's my clean socks?', no one answers."

I hope this made sense and is maybe interesting to someone ... I had fun talking about this at least!

[peachyjinx]

The Coffee Date

Relationship: Dom!Loki x Sub!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Summary: You meet up with your boyfriend Loki after some time away on a mission. Established Dom/sub relationship. No safe words, but assume they have a signal or something. This is pure smut.

Warnings: 18+!! This is filthy, sorry I got carried away. Sort of cockwaming if you squint, public sex, rough bj, throat fucking, cum play. Thirst for Loki's amazing jawline, inspired by this thread.

You thoughtfully look down at your clothing options laid out on your bed. Your eyes glance outside again, seeing the trees swaying with the mild breeze, and the brightly colored leaves swirling around in the air. The autumn season is at its peak, and the colors on the trees pop vibrantly against the bright blue sky. New York is especially gorgeous in the fall, and you love that about living here. 

You decide to choose a very low cut t-shirt with a warm flannel over top, and a pair of your tightest jeans. You smile as you check yourself out in the mirror after changing- you’re sexy without trying too hard. Perfect. 

The cool breeze hits your face as you step out of the tower and make your way to the meeting spot. You walk quickly, eager to see your dark God at the coffee shop you had agreed on for a rendezvous point. You haven't seen Loki in over two weeks, having just arrived back from a tedious mission. As soon as you landed, you immediately texted him. He was out at a meeting with Stark - Loki wouldn’t elaborate- and the two of you agreed to meet as soon as he was done. 

When you weren’t fighting alongside the Avengers during this last mission, you thought about Loki waiting for you.  You had been together for a few months now, and the sex had been intoxicating. The two of you were fully in lust with each other, and every sexual encounter seemed more intense than the last. You quickly discovered that Loki loved dominating you, and that you just can't get enough of it. You loved the freedom of letting Loki take control, bringing you to new realms of ecstasy when you came together. 

Your mind wanders as your legs speedily move you through the crowded streets, and you can feel the heat in your body rising, picturing all of the ways the two of you fucked each other whenever and wherever you could. You no longer feel cold as your mind is consumed with lustful thoughts of your handsome boyfriend and his perfect body on top of yours. 

Your impure daze is broken when you see that you’re close to the coffee shop, and see the tall man standing out front. A huge smile spreads across your face as you see Loki, dressed in a sharp suit with a long coat, looking unnecessarily handsome. 

He sees you and mirrors your smile, and your legs speed walk up to him, as you practically leap into a hug. Your heart races as you wrap your arms around his firm waist, and he wraps his arms around your shoulders. 

“So happy to see you Darling,” he beams down at you from your embrace. Loki pulls you in for a kiss as the two of you stand on the busy sidewalk. The kiss is gentle and slow, full of affection and longing. You feel an urge to climb him like a tree, but instead break the kiss before you escalate things. 

“Hi Loki, I missed you,” you smile up at him, unable to hold back your excitement about seeing him. 

"I have missed you too. Shall we go inside?”, he cordially asks. Nodding, you follow him as he takes you by the hand and into the building. 

“Hey Loki, I’m going to grab us a table. Can you order for us?”, you ask as you see the bustling crowds in the cafe. 

“Of course, and what does my date require?,” Loki coos, while bringing your hand up to his lips, planting a chaste kiss. You feel butterflies in your stomach and notice that people around you are watching, the handsome God having caught their eyes.

“The biggest cafe latte you can get,” you cheerfully reply, then make your way past the line into the lounge. 

Scanning the crowd, which has thinned near the rear of the building, you spot an empty large couch in a back corner and make a break for it, ducking and diving behind people. 

“Aha!” you happily exclaim to yourself, plopping down in the middle of the soft couch, claiming it for you and your boyfriend. Around you are a couple tables, some occupied and some not. It feels like you have the corner to yourself, perfect for you and Loki to catch up. 

As you settle in, you realize the heat in the cafe is on full blast and you feel like you’re going to melt. Removing your coat, you adjust your shirt and top, pulling the t-shirt extra low just for Loki. You smirk to yourself at your subtle way of tantalizing him. He loves it when you wear low cut shirts. 

Loki emerges from the shuffling crowd, coffees in hand. Your eyes are able to take in his tall frame as he walks towards you in long, confident strides. Was he always this tall? You feel so small compared to him, and want nothing more than to leave right now and beg him to fuck you. A wave of heat crashes over you, but you try to ignore it. There will be time for that later. 

“Thanks, Loki,” you watch him as he gracefully removes his coat, neatly folding it over the side of the couch. You’re momentarily distracted by his beauty as he sits next to you. His jawline, as sharp as the daggers he loves to wield, is accented by the dark locks he has pushed behind his ears. The dark blue bespoke suit he wears perfectly contrasts his beautiful pale skin. Your eyes are drawn down his neck, where normally a tie would wrap around. Instead, his crisp white shirt is unbuttoned at the top, and the dark suit and his hair perfectly frame his neck and jawline, showing a glimpse of the perfect body underneath.

 Loki's piercing blue eyes are now fixated on you. They’re different than when he first greeted you. Filled with dark intentions, they slowly rake over your body, and hover on your chest. He looks at your cleavage hungrily, and you feel a rush of slick in between your thighs. Your thighs clench together, feeling flushed under his lewd study of your body. His eyes snap back up to yours, and you can see the arousal that is lingering in them. Loki subtly moves his lower jaw, and you notice a slight flare of his nostrils. You know he's fighting his own lust, you've memorized his tells. A thrill runs through you, knowing he's already bothered. 

Loki sets your drinks on the coffee table, and moves himself closer to you. He reaches forward, cupping your chin and kisses you, and you reciprocate immediately. The kiss starts off slow, gentle. Quietly exploring each other’s mouths, the pressure begins to build. You find yourself moving closer to his body as he begins to run his hand down your thigh. His addictive smell, of warm spices and pine, is putting you under a lustful spell.

Loki’s tongue pushes into your mouth and yours massages his as he intensifies the kiss. His hand wanders down to your ass, pulling you closer to him and you moan into his mouth.Your hands wrap into his soft hair and you gently tug it like he likes, and Loki moans quietly. You find yourself nearly climbing onto Loki’s lap, passion taking over as you continue to express your affection for each other.  Everything around you has disappeared as you continue to wantonly make out.  His cock, hard and ready for you, is now pushing into your thigh, which is sprawled across his lap. You thrust down onto his erection that is strained against his perfect suit. A low growl emanates from deep in Loki’s chest, and you feel an ache of need in your cunt. 

“aHEM,” a gruff gentleman’s voice rings out, directed at you. You pause for a moment and you and Loki break your kiss. Embarrassment creeps in as you realize you and Loki are dry humping each other on a couch in the coffee shop. You turn your head and see the older man staring over his newspaper at the two of you with a scolding look.  

You take a deep breath and attempt to move backwards, to slide back onto the couch to give the two of you space. Strong hands hold you in place, your leg across Loki’s lap as he tuts at you with a sly grin. He moves your free hand to his taut stomach, while your other becomes pinned between your bodies and the couch as Loki shifts.

“Ah ah ah, where do you think you’re going, pet?”, he slowly shakes his head with a disapproving look. His hands are now cupping your ass and thigh, fingers digging in harder. 

“Loki…,” you glance around again and feel a need to make yourself more presentable around the strangers who are sitting near you. He smiles devilishly at your apparent unease with your current arrangement on the couch. 

Loki clears his throat, shifting slightly so his cock pushes up into your thigh,“So I trust that everything on your mission went smoothly?”. His voice is as cool as ever, as if he wasn't using your body to hide his erection from those around you. 

“Uh… yea, it wasn’t too bad, just a Level 5,” you reply nonchalantly. You try to focus on acting as if he wasn’t driving you wild, like the fact that his large cock is hard and weeping with neediness for you. All you want is to climb on top of him while he plunges himself up into your wet cunt. Why is he teasing you like this? It’s torture. 

"But I bet you missed me, didn't you, my pet?", He asks in a low voice, dancing a finger along your thigh. Loki, still casual in his demeanor, has a twinkle of mischief in his eyes and winks at you. He’s a predator, playing with his meal. You have no choice but to sit here at his mercy, not knowing what will happen next.

"Oh yea, of course I did..", you feel your heart race but send him a shy smile and look away. No one around you seems bothered now that you’re not actively making out. A bit of relief washes over you. 

Loki leans forward, his lips ghosting your ear, "Did you touch yourself during your absence? I think not, given the nature of your trip. I bet you're dripping wet and ready for me." He leans back, flashing a knowing smile as he lifts his coffee to his lips. He takes a drink and lets out a quiet satisfied moan. 

A whine escapes your lips as embarrassment washes over you, knowing he’s right, and that he knows how to play with you. The slick between your legs is beginning to soak your panties, and you feel your hips subtly grind into him. Your fingers tighten around his soft dress shirt, beginning to grasp desperately. 

You try to regain your composure and smile back at him, “Maybe,” you shrug casually but you know he knows he’s right. Smug bastard. 

“So who were you and Tony meeting up with?”, you change the subject, trying to prove to Loki he’s not affecting you and failing miserably.

Loki chuckles at your resistance, and reaches a hand into your hair to gently play with it. He smiles at you, knowing he's making you squirm under his touch. 

You remember your coffee and glance down at the table, and Loki follows your gaze. He knows you can’t reach it at this angle without moving off of his lap, but does not hand it to you. His wicked smile widens and he continues the conversation, while you let out an annoyed “hmph”. You know that he would hand you your mug in a gentlemanly fashion, but that he obviously has other plans in mind. But what it is, you don’t know. 

"Well, as usual, Stark was imbecilic in his attempt to gather information. I suggested a more clandestine approach to gathering information, but he thought it would be smart to meet with these financiers in person. Naturally I was correct, and we will have to infiltrate their headquarters at a later date,” Loki summarizes in a slightly annoyed tone.

He sets his coffee back down on the table next to yours, which is cooling off untouched. Confusion and arousal wash over you, not sure why Loki is still holding you in this position, not letting you drink your latte.

He pauses a moment, just looking at you. You watch as Loki's muscular jaw clenches. It is imperceptible by anyone else. But you noticed. The shift in his eyes has now changed to dangerous. You feel the blush in your cheeks as you try to remain calm, and try to continue your conversation. 

"So what did you have to do?," you ask, leaning forward towards him and running your free hand down his stomach, teasing the buttons with your fingers.

Loki leans forward, bringing his lips to your ear, "I want to feel those beautiful lips on my cock this instant. You are going to walk into the bathroom right now, and I will follow in a moment,” Loki demands in his low voice. 

A rush of heat runs through your body, and you feel your stomach drop. 

“What? Are you serious…?”, in a shaky tone.

"It is either that or I fuck you on this couch in front of the shocked faces of these patrons", his voice is darker, and you know he's not playing games anymore. 

Your eyes, wide with surprise, glance at the older gentleman engrossed in his paper, and the young women seating themselves at the table near you. Did they hear him? Would people know?

Doing as he commands, you stand slowly and abandon your boyfriend and latte. Your arm is sore from the awkward position, and your knees feel weak. Your pulse is racing, the anticipation making your arousal almost unbearable. You try to remain casual in your demeanor as you walk towards the restroom. 

As you enter the bathroom, you survey the area. It’s incredibly clean, with art posters on the wall and vanilla potpourri on a small table. You look in the mirror at yourself and primp your hair for just a moment, only to see Loki step in behind you. 

There is a loud click as Loki locks the door and walks over to you, his eyes leering over your body hungrily as he stands behind you. He grabs you around the stomach, pulling you up against him. You feel his firm body and hard erection as it pushes into your ass through both of your layers of clothing and a whimper falls out of your mouth. Your needy eyes scan your handsome partner and you gain a better appreciation of his perfectly tailored suit. He looks as powerful as ever, the jacket hugging his broad shoulders, but tapering at his waist, accentuating his perfect “V” shape. Heat radiates from his body against your back, making you shudder. His sharp cheekbones are accentuated under the bright lights, his features almost cold. 

“I know it has been but a few days, but I have found myself thinking of you while I pleasure myself. Every evening since our separation, bringing myself to completion while thinking of you. How does that make you feel?,” Loki’s dark voice asks as the two of you lock eyes in the mirror. His pupils are large with arousal, and you can just see the thin outline of his blue irises. Loki’s large hands wander your curves, dwarfing your midsection and making you feel small.

“Oh…I…,”your brain goes blank, unable to respond to Loki’s question as your mouth begins to water at the thought of him pleasuring himself. Your hips move instinctively and rub your ass up against his hardened length, letting out a breathy moan.

"I know you missed me as well. Craved my cock, needing every ounce of pleasure I deliver to you. But you will have to wait…" he looks at you with a devilish grin while his hand traces up to your cleavage, roughly grabbing your breast while he slowly thrusts his hips on you from behind again. A moan escapes your lips as you push back onto him. 

"On your knees, now,” he demands, his voice even lower than before.You feel hot all over, his command unleashing a fire in you to please him. Your cunt clenches, and you have a desperate need to have his cock in your mouth, to taste his skin on your tongue. 

“Yes, Sir,” you obey, your voice shaky despite your excitement. Your knees settle on the tile floor as you assume your position, resting your hands on your thighs with your back along the wall. Loki closes in on you, his large frame entrapping you between him and the wall. 

The look on his face is focused, the bright white light of the room reflecting off of his sharp features. He slowly unbuckles his belt and looks down at you with intense eyes, while his skilled fingers slowly unbutton and unzip as you watch. 

 Loki’s hard length pops out, inches from your face and you whine with want. His cock is already dipping with precum and the tip is bright red and flushed. Veins are pulsing with his lust, his need for you. Your hand wraps around the base while you languidly lick up and down the soft shaft, the salty taste of his skin like ambrosia to you. God how you missed him. A hum develops in your throat as you gently lick and suck, kissing and worshiping his cock like he loves.You dance your tongue around the head while you gently cup his balls, and look up at your dark prince. His eyes are still focused on you as you slowly lick and kiss up his length, taking your time. 

"I've had enough of your teasing, now suck on my cock like the whore you are," Loki commands while he grabs the sides of your head forcefully pushing you onto his cock.  He hisses loudly through clenched teeth as he feels the warmth of your mouth envelope him. His hips begin moving, and you moan in satisfaction of the feeling of having his heavy cock thrusting in your mouth.

You relax your jaw to take him further, while Loki entangles his hands in your hair as he pushes his hips further into your mouth.  Your panties are already soaking wet as his dominating presence surrounds you, cock drunk as a haze of lust clouding your senses. Reaching out, your hands move up his thighs, clawing at his pants and steadying yourself on the strong muscles underneath. 

“Oh how I’ve missed this perfect mouth, Pet. My perfect little whore, always ready for me. You need this, don’t you? Need my cock in your mouth, my seed on your tongue,” Loki grunts as he quickens his pace, his cock hitting the back of your throat. 

You draw your eyes up to Loki's face, and you see his lower jaw jut out, exposing his perfectly white teeth as he breathes heavily. His eyebrows are knit together in fierce concentration at getting himself off. 

Tears begin to form in your eyes, and you feel your breath starting to become restricted as his large cock pushes deeper into your throat. You attempt to continue to use your tongue on his length, but his forceful thrusts are overwhelming as he increases his pace.

“Yeesss, take my cock, my Pet, I know you’ve missed it,” growls Loki while his hands tighten their grip on your head.

He groans as he fucks forcefully down your throat, not holding back his feral need. Tears begin streaming down your face, as you try to keep breathing. You gag, not being able to take all of his girth down your throat. Loki removes himself for a moment, pulling your head off of his length. You gasp for air, strings of saliva stretching from your mouth to his engorged cock while you cough and catch your breath. 

Heavily panting above you, Loki only gives you mere seconds to gasp for air before he pushes himself past your swollen lips and into your mouth with a primal grunt. Your head is pushed back, only his hands cushioning you from the hard tiles. Your fingers grip tighter into his thighs while you try to remain still for him. 

Loki reaches a long arm out to brace his palm against the wall behind you, his jacket draping around you and casting a shadow. A loud moan erupts from him and he intensifies his movements and begins to thrust wantonly further into your throat. His black hair forms a curtain around his face as he looks down at you with his pupils blown wide, face contorted in intense pleasure. The muscles in his neck are taught with tension as he clenches his jaw and narrows his eyes, watching his cock disappear into your tight throat. 

The sounds filling the small room are lurid, full of pants and moans and the wet noises of his cock roughly pushing into your throat. You are completely in a submissive haze, loving that he is using you, taking from you what he wants. 

Loki pushes your head further onto his length, so your nose is pushed into his flat stomach covered by his shirt. His short pubic hairs tickle you as Loki pushes himself as far as he can go, rutting desperately into you. Grunts accentuate each thrust, while his grip pulls at your hair, and you feel the burn on your scalp. Your throat makes obscene sounds and you focus on breathing while Loki violates your throat. 

Suddenly his cock is pulled out and your eyes shoot upwards as you sputter and choke. Loki bares his teeth in a feral grimace as he comes with a feral growl, pumping his cock with his hand. Cum shoots onto your bare chest and you feel the warm ropes decorate your collarbone and chest, marking you everywhere with his seed.

Loki groans loudly while he holds his cock and tightly closes his eyes while coming down from his high, continuing to slowly stroke himself. As he stands over you, panting, you can't help but look up in awe at this beautiful God. A sheen of sweat covers his brow, his hair disheveled. A haze of pleasure settles over you as you watch Loki open his eyes and look down at you with affection. You smile up at him- your throat is raw and sore, but you are so thankful to be the one he takes his pleasure from. 

He reaches down, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. You lean forward and kiss the tip of his cock, making it jump. A low chuckle comes from Loki's throat, "That's my girl," he smirks down at you. 

He puts himself away and reaches a hand out to help you off of the ground. You take his hand, now gentle in touch as you shakily stand up and catch your breath while you wipe the edges of your swollen mouth with your fingers.

You look down at your chest and see that he has come a lot, and your eyes scan the room for something to wipe it off with. As you reach for the paper towels, you see his large hand grab you firmly by the wrist. Your eyes reach his as looks at you with warning, his face stern.

“Loki…”, you begin to ask what he’s doing with your raspy voice, confused by his stopping you.

“You are going to leave my seed on your chest and button up your shirt. I want you to remember who you belong to," Loki instructs you with an even tone while he gently gropes your backside. 

A new wave of heat spreads across your body again at his possessiveness, that he wants physical evidence on you to prove his claim to you.

"Yes, Sir,” you smirk at him, reaching for the flannel top and slowly button up while Loki watches with pride. 

The fabric of the flannel sticks to the cum that is now starting to dry. Cum seeps into your bra, tickling your breasts and makes you squirm. 

“Good girl. Now let us go order new coffees to go, so that I can bring you home and fuck you for the rest of the evening.” Loki swiftly opens the door for you with a roguish smile on his face. 

----

Peachyjinx Masterlist

[oops-all-concrete]

What would you think of how would each BG3 companions to Tav being secretly a god that has been tagging along with them all this time? Just curious

(SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO GET TO THIS, MY BRAIN HELD MY MOTIVATION RANSOM MIDWAY THROUGH ME WRITING THIS)

Ooohhhhh this sounds funnyyyy

Context: I'm imagining Tav is a god and has God status, a place in the pantheon and everything, but-! So continuity makes sense and the whole journey is still necessary, I'd assume them a curious God of some miscellaneous small thing so their powers wouldnt be THAT useful anyhow (God of clouds, God of fur, God of bread) but yeah!

BG3 companions react to Tav secretly being a...God???

(MILD SPOILERS FOR ACT 1/2)

Lae'zel -

She's suspicious at first, disbelieving of course. But as she watches Tav just summon (whatever they're the god of) from thin air, she frowns. "Chk. You may be of godly status, but if you're unwise enough to get kidnapped by a ghaik nautaloid, you are no mighty God." She finishes, nose upturned and almost- dissapointed??

Shadowheart -

Once shes been convinced, she frowns. "I don't think I've ever known of such a God...granted, Lady Shar only allowed for us to study her." She admits. She's quite hesitant, but she does ask. "Have you ever...met lady Shar/Seluné? Can you tell her I say hi? Is that appropriate?"

Wyll -

He's also hesitant to believe, but he's so curious once he believes you. "Wait, so, what's it like being a God? Does being a mortal feel weird? Are you immune to anything? What happens if you die? Does someone become the new God of what you're the God of? Are you even allowed to be here? What does the immortal plane smell like?" Just, a million and one questions and he wants ALL the stories.

Karlach -

"Woah! That's so cool, I wish I was a God...I'd be the God of potatoes. Is that already a thing?" Regardless if its true, she let's Tav have their fun. She also refers to every time she's saved by Tav as 'Divine Intervention' which isn't...wrong?

Gale -

"Ah, I got that impression, albeit with doubt." He says, sounding only a little smug. "Your disguise is well crafted, I'll give you that. Definitely something I aspire to learn from" he smiles fondly. Then there's a pause. "...I understand its not quite your field but you wouldn't be someone who could fix the whole...orb in me chest could you? Or would that also put you under Mystras ire?"

Astarion -

He seems immediately intrigued. "Really? I thought you were a little calm for all of this, but I never would have guessed- no offense. I'm sure you're very...powerful in your own way!" He says, somewhat forcing a smile. "So- does prayer work, or does the world have to be ending for everyone in order for you to pick up a summon?" He asks, curious, but seeming somewhat irritated too. He doesn't elaborate on why.

Halsin -

He seems doubtful at first but believes you quicker than you expected. "I hadn't imagined thr gods would send one of their own to come and save me from goblins or...help lift a shadow curse left by Shar of all people." He says, a faint smile on his face. "While I am in your debt, you should my life is already pledged to Silvannus. I hope what I'm already doing is enough"

Jaheira -

She looks Tav up and down, crosses her arms, and then- chuckles? "Sorry, I just- I feel like I finally have evidence I've been here too long. I haven't passed away to some dumb idea yet, so the Gods sent one of their own to get me." She laughs it off but then looks at Tab quite seriously. "...you're not here to get me are you?"

Minsc -

"I know!" He replies happily, not missing a beat. "Boo alerted me of your origins immediately. He's delighted to be joined by another of the pantheon, even if a lesser God" He smiles, mindlessly as ever.

[autistic-inmate]

SUPERNATURAL LUCIFER X FEM!READER

(Reader is referred to as sister)

- You joke around with Lucifer and your brother, Dean, doesn’t like it :)

fluff 😇

1.2k words

I walked into the room that my brothers were in, "Where's Clarence?"

"Not sure, said he had some angel business to deal with." Dean muttered as he continued to stare at his laptop screen. I sighed and fell down onto one of the chairs "I'm booorreedd." I whined and nobody said anything, "Ok I guess I'll go annnd.." I paused while I thought about what to do, "Find a case." Normally they would 'advise' not to because it could be dangerous on my own, but they didn't even look up. Maybe I should elaborate, "Actually you know what? I'm gonna go find a vamps nest." Ok they definitely wouldn't let me go alone. But I still got no answer.

"Ignore everything I just said, I can't be bothered. I think, I'm just gonna go talk to one of the angels." I hoped that would get their attention considering they dislike most of them. "Hey, I should go talk to the devil, I mean he's probably pretty lonely." Ok that must have gotten there attention. Nope, still nothing.

Alright well, "Lucifer. You know? Satan?" That caught their attention and Dean glared at me but I smiled innocently. Sam looked at me over his laptop, "What? Sorry, I'm just trying to figure this out and I feel like I haven't slept in years, did you say something about Lucifer? Has something happened?" I could tell I hit a bit of a nerve by mentioning his name but how else was I supposed to get their attention. "No, well yes I said I should go talk to him 'cause he's probably lonely." I smiled innocently at them again but they didn't look very happy.

"Don't even joke about that. I don't want you anywhere near him." I could tell Dean was serious but I didn't understand why. Well, I did, I knew why. He's killed people, he wanted Sam as a vessel, he tried to start the apocalypse and he is Satan. But I know a side to Lucifer that they don't, a side to him that's not all death and destruction.

I was about to speak but I felt the temperature drop. I saw the panic in Sams face and Dean reached for his gun by instinct. "You called, darling?" Oh joy, Lucifer is here.

"What a pleasant surprise." I turned to face him with the fakest, most cheesiest grin I could manage. "You were thinking off me so damn much that it basically came to me like a prayer, why were you thinking about me, Y/N?" He smirked as he walked closer to us and I rolled my eyes. "I was thinking about how much of an ass you are, my brothers here were agreeing." I smirked right back at him and he scoffed "I know you like me really and you enjoy my company more than anyone else's, you're not fooling anyone." He shrugged slightly like what he had just said was painfully obvious.

"Ok that's enough, I can't take it anymore. Lucifer what the hell are you doing here, really?" Dean looked pretty mad that I was joking around with the devil but who can blame me, he's quite funny when he's not trying to start world war three.

"You act like I'm about to try and start the apocalypse Deany, I mean c'mon, I'm totally over all that now." He smiled like he just told Dean he'd bought him some flowers and baked him a cake. "Right of course, I'm sorry for assuming the worst from the literal devil, you must've just popped in to give me chocolate and watch a movie with us." Dean spoke sarcastically and Lucifer pretended to be offended and shook his head. "Wow. I know you don't like me, but that was harsh. I mean, I really did come here to watch a movie. Not with you exactly, but that is the reason. I can't believe you think so lowly of me Deano." Lucifer matched Deans sarcastic tone and it just pissed my brothers off even more, meanwhile I found it to be good entertainment.

"First of all, stop adding letters onto my name. Secondly, if you mean that you came to watch a movie with my sister? You can forget it. I won't let you get anywhere near her." Aaaaaand protective brother mode is officially on. "I'm already near her." Lucifer scoffed as he walked closer to me and threw his arm around my shoulders. "Dude get your big ass arm off of me." I tried to shrug his arm off but he added another arm so he was giving me a really weird side hug, successfully trapping me in his arms.

However before I could complain anymore, a sudden gunshot echoes throughout the room and it makes me flinch. Lucifer let go of me with a grunt. "Ouch." He pouted like a child that didn't get his own way.

I turned to look at him and realised that Dean had shot him. "Was that really necessary, Dean? I can handle myself against big ole pouty satan over here." I felt him poke me at the insult so I looked back at him to see him still pouting and I giggled. "Yes. It was completely necessary. I told him that I wasn't gonna let him near you, Y/N. I don't like how close you two seem, all buddy-buddy and shit, it's not right. Has he got you under some sorta spell? Do you need help, Y/N? 'Cause I definitely do not have a problem with killing the devil himself." Dean looked between the two of us practically giggling like a pair of school girls.

"Yes Dean, he has me under a very powerful spell." He didn't look impressed with my sarcasm. "Whatever, but you hurt her and I swear I will find a way to end you." And with that promise he left the room. We both looked at Sam and it was pretty awkward for a second before he cleared his throat "Yeah, Well I- erm- I need to carry on with this, so.." He got up and walked out with his laptop.

"Wow. You know, you could be here to kill me and both of my brothers just left me to be murdered." I joked and turned around to face him.

"You know I'd never hurt you though, right? You are one of the very very few humans I can tolerate." His smirk was replaced with a genuine smile as he looked down at me. "I know." I nodded and it was quite for a moment as I looked at him, taking in his features. Damn, his eyes are so pretty and his hair looks so fluffy, I want to just run my hands through it so fucking bad.

"So," I cleared my throat like I was trying to get rid of the tension in the room. "What movie do you wanna watch, Luci?" My eyes widened slightly as I realised what I had called him, but it was too late, he had already heard it. "'Luci' huh?" I was about to start apologetically rambling before I noticed a grin spread across his face. "I like it, but only from you. I don't want some demon walking around calling me 'Luci ', it'll ruin my reputation." He chuckled, "Oh and I'm 99.9% sure that you forgot I can read your thoughts, your eyes are pretty too." His smirk was back as he cockily walked out of the room, leaving me stood on my own in embarrassment.