#if he ever deigned to join in

[thespacelizard]

happy holidays im curious about how your ocs would celebrate winter holidays and/or find comfort in the cold

i swear all i can think about is Rizeth and Ashenivir just being cozy while it’s freezing outside. i got to write them having a little bit of Winter Adventures for Perils and ugh. my heart.

The boys don’t hold any particular winter festivals that close, imo—they live in the Underdark, seasonal changes don’t really come up. The ending of the year is a bigger one. but when they’re up on the surface in the cold, you should know that Ashenivir finds it very attractive when Rizeth’s flushed from the chill, and also that Rizeth did give him a big warm cloak that he looks so so so cozy bundled up in.

swap tea for hot cocoa (Ashenivir discovers marshmallows during Perils. he loves them) and just put them in a warm apartment with snow outside and them spending time together.

this is a bad answer for holiday celebrations but i’ve got cozy on the brain. they’re staying in bed while it snows. keeping warm through various means.

Zeth’rinn hates the cold so he’s def got charms and trinkets that keep him warm so he doesn’t have to bundle up. he’s just like me fr in that having to layer up feels bad and kills the entire vibe. his dad is Jarlaxle, he 100% has a charm so he can wear crop-tops in winter.

i do like the idea that Jarlaxle brought him up to the surface to show him winter festivals and snow at some point when he was a kid. He didn’t have to go through a winter neary freezing to death in a cave with a bear a la mister Do’Urden, he just got to spend like. a cold night up there with his dad, I think.

(i also think that when he’s up there with Bregan D’aerthe, he is the one who starts snowball fights as often as possible. i also think that at least one other member has stabbed him about it, which is what he deserves.)

(also also. please now im thinking about kimmuriel’s psionic snowfight-winning abilities. i dont know if that’s canon but it should be. stopping a single snowball with his mind then throwing like forty back and burying Zeth under a snowdrift. that’s what i want.)

Vizaeth hates the cold, hates snow if he ever sees it, and thinks winter festivals are stupid iblith nonsense.

[thealogie]

picture this. you're michael sheen, beloved queer-friendly welsh actor and recent twilight saga vampire. you want your favorite book to become a tv show, and you want to be the lead. so what do you do? you befriend the author. he wines and dines you, you become a confidant in the scriptwriting phase. and in the process of the GO script you decide you don't want to be crowley, actually, you want to be aziraphale. you put in the work for months to influence the author to the same conclusion. so when neil gaiman comes to you one day saying, "i know you joined on to be crowley... but how would you feel about playing aziraphale?" you say, what a novel idea! i was feeling the same way, i just didn't want to say anything! let's do it.

you're michael sheen, the lead in the adaptation of your favorite book. you meet david tennant as your leading man, a rising star (and vocal fan of yours) you've had a few vague interactions with in the past. on set you immediately find the closest friend you have ever and will ever find in your life, and you know this. the romance you have in your (yes, your) show is ambiguous, but you're michael sheen. you think that romance needs to be explicit. so what do you do? you become a nightmare on set. you get really hands-on; you make costume choices, you make story decisions, you tell your author friend at the very end of filming: aziraphale is in love with crowley and realizes it in 1941. now go do it again.

so the author goes and does it again. you get a season 2. you get 1941 part 2. you're michael sheen, and you are the lead of the adaptation of your favorite book, and the romance you littered into the character you built from the ground up has become unambiguous. everything goes according to plan. but, you see, you have a problem: the author you have baby trapped is acting a FIEND on twitter and tumblr. he's saying everything he can to imply aziraphale and crowley aren't sexually attracted to each other. he's getting a bit too bold with his character assumptions, is all i'm saying. so here's what you're going to do: you play it up with your pal david tennant. you made a show with him during lockdown. you're going to depict your lives as even more intertwined and homoerotically codependent as previously possible. you grow even closer. your wives become best friends, too, because how could they not? this has been the plan since the beginning, too. your lockdown show ends. it wasn't enough.

so you, michael sheen, of course you put in the work. if david tennant's there, you're damn sure you're there physically, spiritually, biblically, in whatever capacity you can be. it's not hard. david tennant is a big fan of yours, after all, so he MAKES SURE you're always in the conversation. you have him wrapped around your little finger, this lovely little boy, and so you know what you do next? you become neighbors. you make your directorial debut casting your best friend's wife watching her husband and male neighbor initiate sex with each other. you play into the swinging rumors (that you, michael sheen, had started). you create a narrative that you and david tennant are two homoerotic besties, and is there more going on in the background there? any deeper conspiracy? who really knows, but what you do know is that the world is talking about it.

and you, michael sheen, your entire acting career has led to this moment, your gay quips, your oscar wilde sex scene (and the interviews following), all of your queer roles, EVERYTHING has brought us to this conclusion. you have created the lab perfect conditions where season 3 must have an explicit gay sex scene. i'm sorry neil, my hands are tied! the people are clamoring for me and david tennant to have sex-- i mean aziraphale and crowley to have sex, the public decided this all on their own! i really don't think you have much choice. but of course, i would never deign to tell an author how to practice his veritable craft. i concede to whatever version of series 3 you create, and i will happy to bring this beloved character to his deserved ending.

and why do you say this? because you're michael sheen. you're just an actor who incidentally stumbled his way into leading the queer romance adaptation of your favorite book that wasn't a romance, and you just read the script the way that it was given to you. and if series 3 means an explicit sex scene between you and your best friend david tennant, then what a lovely coincidence that you had absolutely no part in making happen. because what power do you really have?

This is my favorite book I’ve read so far this year. A rare occasion where the author pulls off use of the second person pov. I really felt like I was a beloved welsh actor crossed with Machiavelli when I read this

[killerpancakeburger]

The wizard is dead

Pairing: Rolan x f!Reader/Tav ("She" is used to refer to the Reader twice)

Summary: You didn’t expect to end the party celebrating Ketheric's final death at the Last Light Inn making out with a certain wizard. And least of all you certainly weren't expecting to meet him again in Baldur's Gate...

Tags: Enemies to lovers speedrun, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, protective! Tav, insecure! Tav, Astarion ships it and never stfu.

Warnings: swearing, alcohol mention, canon violence and death, spoilers for Acts 2 and 3 obvsly.

A/N: Making Rolan blush as much as possible. If you too felt murderous upon seeing his bruises, this is the fic for you!

“...up. Get up. Urgh. Get the fuck up.”

An exasperated, familiar voice pierced progressively the depths of your sleep. Didn’t mean you wanted to wake up, though. You felt deliciously drowsy and ready to plunge right back into the pit of slumber.

You grumbled in protest in response to the voice and submerged your head with your pillow.

The voice emitted a grunt of aggravation following your shenanigans. 

“I can’t believe Karlack put up with this every morning…”

Something suddenly started to shove you repeatedly at waist level, and you identified the something as a foot.

You rolled over to escape, in vain.

“Go away, Astarion”, you whined, muffled by your pillow.

“Oh! She talks!” commented the vampire sarcastically. “Maybe now she will deign to join us for breakfast!”

“Why are you even here?”, you lamented. “Where’s Karlach? I want Karlach.”

It was your morning ritual since your hellish friend recovered her ability to touch without burning. She’d wake you up with a bones-crushing hug, some physical affection welcomed by both of you. In comparison to her, Astarion was cold and sharp, bodily and verbally. 

“I wanted to be the first to congratulate you, darling.”

He wasn’t making any effort to conceal the enjoyment in his voice, and a bad feeling arose within you, wondering what could amuse him so early in the morning. Suffice to say, Astarion was not a morning person. 

Thankfully, he kept talking without needing to ask him to.

“So congratulations for shagging the wizard last night! It was the most entertaining spectacle of the party, no doubt.”

“Gale…?” You asked, filled with confusion. You enjoyed his company but neither of you ever showed interest of the romantic… or sexual… sort in the other.

“Ugh”, sighed exaggeratedly Astarion, like it was the dumbest thing he’s ever heard in two hundred years, “no, not Gale.” The name sounded like an insult. You could hear the spawn roll his eyes.

“The stuck-up tiefling! The wannabe apprentice! What was his name again…?”

All torpor is abruptly ejected from your body with the power of a cannonball. You sit up brutally, wound up like a bowstring. 

“Rolan!?” The name erupted from your mouth way louder than you intended. Luckily, Astarion didn’t pay attention as he slammed his fist against his palm in satisfaction. 

“Yes! That haughty little… Anyway! You two gave the Inn one hell of a show, making out in front of everybody. I have to thank you for that, really, it was getting sooo boring.”

He was looking at you with the content smile of a cat who caught the mouse. You stared back with incredulity, dumbfounded. 

“You’re lying.”

“Why, darling, I would never”, he retorted smugly, putting a hand on his chest with pretended affliction, like he was wounded by your accusation. 

You wanted to stand your ground and believe that he was lying, but something in his smugness, more assured than when he was deceiving people, told you that he wasn’t.

“The whole Inn saw you, so you could ask anyone for confirmation, really. They all cheered by the way. Obviously his siblings were the loudest of the bunch…”

You covered your ears in denial. Never again you would drink that much.

“You even managed to make him dance. Well, dragged him there, really. Details. He had two left feet, so that was… endearing.”

He pronounced “endearing” the same way he called you naive that one time, and you knew that he held himself back from using a more… colorful adjective.

“Shut up”, you pleaded with Astarion. “I don’t want to hear anything more.”

He chuckled with derision. 

“Me shutting up won’t change reality, dear.”

“What are you guys doing?”

Karlach’s booming voice startled you. Astarion, on the contrary, greeted her appearance with a mischievous smile, seeing another occasion to poke fun at you.

“We were just remembering yesterday night and the boldness of our heartbreaker of a leader. It was fun, wasn’t it Karlach?”

“Oh yeah!” immediately agreed the tiefling, completely missing the horror on your face and your silent plea to not add to Astarion’s pestering. “You guys were really going at it. Didn’t see it coming but what matters is that you’re happy.”

A radiant and sincere smile was adorning her lips. You covered your blushing face in embarrassment, grunting in shame and frustration with yourself.

“Karlach, if I ever drink this much again, just knock me out.”

“I mean, if you’re sure… but there’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know. Everyone is very supportive of you both.” she added, unsure of why you looked so down. 

“You don’t understand”, you whined.

As she was about to ask for explanations, the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted your conversation. All three of you turned your gaze to Wyll, who had a tense smile - or grimace, you weren’t sure - on his face, and seemed like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

“Ahrem. Lae’zel wanted me to let you know that if you don’t show up in the next three seconds, she would add you to the menu.”

Suddenly all thoughts of yesterday evening were forgotten as you three scrambled towards the campfire.

⚡⚡⚡

As your little band resumed their journey towards Baldur’s Gate, you resolved to use that time to put order in your memories from last evening and in your relationship with Rolan. 

Your memories were gradually resurfacing, hand in hand with a pounding headache. 

Despite Astarion and Karlach’s statements, you still couldn’t believe that you kissed Rolan. Not that the idea repulsed you - far from it, actually. The man was pretty, and he was even prettier when he wasn’t busy yelling at you. However, the idea that he let you put your lips anywhere on him was laughable. 

You proceeded to rewind all your memories with the self-assured wizard, trying to find the key to decipher what was an enigma to you. 

Truth be told, you didn’t remember much from your first meeting in the Grove. Except for his shooting match with Lia, which was impossible to miss once inside the shelter, you remembered him vaguely as a pompous character whose every statement dripped with snobbishness and bravado, so much that it felt like he was trying to convince himself rather than his audience. Despite the airs he was giving himself, you caught him later during the tiefling party putting on a magic show simply to please his siblings, and the heartwarming display disconcerted you as much as it amused you. 

The moment when you met him again in the Last Light Inn, on the other hand, was burned into your memory. He had once again caught your attention by his yelling. However, as you approached out of concern for the kids tending to the bar, the yelling quickly turned on you. You were ready to let it go - after all, if you weren’t in such a hurry to get rid of the parasite inside your head, you too would have drowned your sorrows in alcohol and lashed out at well-meaning strangers - until he accused you of being responsible for his siblings’ kidnapping by the cultists. 

All your restraint snapped at those words, like a rubber band too stretched. 

How did he dare? After everything you’ve done, after all the shit you’ve been through - and were still going through. You weren’t even expecting any thanks, you just wanted to be left alone. As if you malevolently sneaked inside Cal and Lia’s mind to trick them into doing your bidding. As if they weren’t both adults capable of making their own decisions.

A little voice in the back of your head whispered that he was blaming you because he was blaming himself, that rejecting the fault on someone else was the only way he found to contain the pain and guilt that were threatening to engulf him, but you ignored it. Understanding his reasons didn’t make you a doormat.

Karlach had to bodily restrain you as you were about to punch him in the face.

“Then stop whining and do something about it yourself, since I only make things worse.” you spat with as much venom you muster, leaving the Inn to find a training dummy to take out your vexation on. His shouts still reached you though.

“Oh, I will! I don’t need your help, and I don’t need your pity!”

You had almost forgotten the incident until you stumbled upon Rolan on your way to Moonrise, in the middle of the shadows. He was largely outnumbered and doomed to a certain death if your group didn’t happen to pass this way completely randomly. 

Once the shadows were taken care of, you pinched the bridge of your nose in bewilderment. Did he have a deathwish or something?

“Gods damn it all. I can do nothing right - not a damn thing.”

His shoulders were shaking in frustration and anger. However, something in the tone of his voice made you feel quite different from the last time you met him. You weren’t irritated, no. You felt… sorrow. For him. Thankfully, he wasn’t aware of your emotions, keeping his eyes on the ground, stubbornly refusing to meet your gaze.

He was more furious at himself than at you this time. There was also a dose of embarrassment in the mix, after failing to rescue his siblings on his own. This display of vulnerability was the antipodes of his usual self-assured behavior, to such an extent that you wondered if the shadows were making you hear things. 

“Please tell me you weren’t looking for Moonrise”, escaped your mouth before you could stop it, realizing that he very probably wouldn’t be any happier to see you now than last time.

He snapped back immediately - of course he did.

“So what if I was? Cal and Lia could be there!”

You were about to retort that getting himself killed on the way there would help no one, Cal and Lia least of all, before the last thing you told him suddenly came back to you. A cold shiver ran down your back, as you wondered with horror if he was here because of your words. You never expected him to take your remark seriously. In the heat of the moment, you had wanted to hurt him, but you had never intended to send him to die alone in those cursed lands. Unease pooled in your stomach and a sharp pang of guilt twisted your heart. You gritted your teeth in frustration. Rolan kept ranting, oblivious to your inner turmoil, which was probably for the best.

“Instead I found myself cornered by shadow-fiends and in need of rescue. From you, of all bloody people.”

That last remark was meant as a jab at you, however it failed at riling you up. How could it have, when his voice trembled like he was about to shed tears? He was finally looking at you, and the heartfelt dejection painted on his features made you want to hold him in your arms more than anything else. You quickly pushed that urge aside, though - there was no doubt in your mind that your attempt at comfort would be unwelcome, to say the least. You probably wouldn’t like it either if the roles were reversed. You two weren’t close enough for this.

Nonetheless, you tried to bring him solace through your words, keeping your tone as neutral as possible:

“You were trying to help your family - you’re too hard on yourself.”

But your efforts seemed to have the opposite effect, as he retorted in an uncharastically acerbic tone:

“Or not hard enough.”

Both his words and his timber made a shiver of dread run through you. There was something terribly final in them, that made you reconsider your thoughts about him having a death wish.

But you were nothing to him, except an hindrance, and as he bid you farewell and walked away, you simply watched him, feeling bitterly powerless, wishing that he at least made it back safely to the Last Light Inn.

Following the defeat of Ketheric Thorm and the eradication of the shadow curse, Jaheira and the Harpers had organized a celebration at the Last Light Inn the night before your departure for Baldur’s Gate. The respite was welcome for your whole party. You really needed a break before taking up the arms against two more gods. Alcohol flew freely. Former prisoners were reuniting with their loved ones. Fighters numbed their wounds and the deceased’s sacrifice was honored. 

As part of the acclaimed saviors, you were making your mandatory runs around the inn before you could slip away to a quiet and peaceful corner. It was during that errand that, once again, you walked in on Rolan and his siblings screaming at each other. You sighed, passing a hand over your tired face, somehow knowing that it would be up to you, once again, to play mediator. 

You downed your drink and approached, waiting for your opportunity to interfere into the conversation. Noticing an opening, you slipped innocently, nose in your tankard:

“Rolan was in a bad state without the two of you.”

The swiftness at which the situation defused itself would have almost made you chuckle if it hadn’t been that serious. Hearing Rolan state that his struggle didn’t matter made you frown but you bit your tongue. Truly that man had serious insecurity issues under all that boasting. But just like in the shadows, it was none of your business.

Having played your role, you mumbled a “don’t mention it” to Cal who was thanking you, and took your leave. Or at least you had started to, until Rolan’s voice interrupted you.

“Wait.”

You turned around out of curiosity, an inquisitive eyebrow raised, not sure if you were the one being addressed. Rolan was staring at you right into your eyes, erasing your previous doubt. Gods, had his yellow gaze always been that hard to hold? 

As soon as he saw he had your attention, he started talking. And what he had to say took you completely aback.

“I’ve lashed out at you, drunkenly and otherwise, and you helped anyway.”

You held back from clarifying that you saved him from the shadows because he happened to be in the way. And that you saved Cal and Lia because… they were in the way too. You were gonna release the Moontower’s prisoners anyway, that Rolan’s siblings had been part of them was just a coincidence. However this little speech seemed to cost Rolan, which was understandable, so you kept your mouth shut.

“You didn’t deserve that - I’m sorry. And thank you.”

You opened your eyes wide - receiving an apology wasn’t on your todo list today. Least of all from someone as proud as Rolan. Even more mind-bending, he gave you a genuine smile. You were so focused on his face that it didn’t occur to you to refuse the money he offered.

Later in the night, as you were still processing his unhoped for change of demeanor, and were a fair bit tipsy, you ended up passing him a new bottle of Arabellan Dry - who gave it to you? Who told you it was Rolan’s favorite’s wine? And that you should give it to him? You had no idea. Not noticing the wine at first, he teased you:

“I’ve thanked you once already. Don’t be greedy.”

Between his taunting words, his open smile, his beautiful eyes sparkling with mirth, and the realization that he was laughing with you, something inside you snapped. Suddenly you had butterflies in your stomach, weakness in your knees, and he looked like the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. You laughed heartily, before smiling frankly, noting that he looked - pleasantly? - surprised at your reaction, not expecting an audience that easy to entertain. 

You remembered talking back to him, settling yourself in a spot nearby, sharing that bottle… But for the life of you, you couldn’t remember that pretended kiss. Did you actually manage to make him blush during the night or was it just the wine?

After reflecting over everything, you still felt as much - if not more - mortified. There was no way Rolan felt happy about making a spectacle of himself in front of so many people - and in front of his siblings, least of all. Those two must have had a field day deriding their eldest. As for the kiss, it must have been a result of the alcohol and the proximity. You didn’t get a lot of opportunities for… physical affection since the beginning of your tadpole adventure, and you could easily imagine that Rolan must not have been getting a lot of action either, between fleeing the Grove, dealing with the cultists, losing his siblings and enduring the shadow curse. 

You could only imagine that after such a disaster, Rolan must be back to hating you. 

You sighed deeply, to the point of attracting the questioning looks of some of your companions walking by your side, before shaking your head in resolve. It was just one, regrettable evening. As long as you didn’t run into Rolan again, you could put it behind you. And what were the chances of coming across him in Baldur’s Gate anyway? 

⚡⚡⚡

High, apparently. Or at least high enough to make you eat your words.

Your merry band had just crossed the doors of some fancy magic shop that took up residence in a lavish tower. You were originally there to confront the man who had put a price on Aylin’s head. Whatever his intentions were with her, they couldn’t be good. Adding wizards’ characteristic hubris and what Ketheric Thorn previously inflicted to the Aasimar together, you quickly came to the conclusion that he sought to cage her and thereby attain immortality. Your purpose was therefore simple: explain in no uncertain terms to Ramazith’s tower’s new owner that he could - should -  kiss goodbye his delusions of eternal life, and, if he proved to be too stubborn to be reasoned with, deal with him in such a way that he wouldn’t be an issue anymore for your winged friend. 

However all Selune’s daughter-related considerations went out the window when you laid eyes upon the shopkeeper at the counter. Somehow the tiefling who had haunted your thoughts for weeks and made you recoil in embarrassment at night, when you were left alone with yourself, forced to cope with the memories of your last meeting, was standing right in front of you. Worse, he noticed you, and the natural blush of his infernal skin miserably failed to hide the vivid flush of his cheeks. Like his reflection in a mirror, you could distinctly feel your own face blaze fiercely. 

It lasted a minute or an eternity, you had no idea, until you were brutally ejected from your trance at the view of the bruises covering his face. Rolan had been so severely pummeled that purple had become the prevailing color on his visage. Ice-cold, overpowering fury spread across your veins and possessed you to swiftly close the gap between the two of you. 

Consumed by anger, you raised a hand to graze his tumefied skin. 

“Who did this to you? I’ll fucking kill them.”

You felt a slight pang of remorse upon seeing him struggle to not back away from you after you charged at him like a ram. His tail had started to sway wildly at your approach. 

However Rolan rapidly proceeded to regain his composure, as he always did. Coughing in his fist - maybe a desperate attempt to hide his still glowingly red cheeks, or simply a way to offer himself a moment to get a grip -, he answered you, way too nonchalantly for your taste. 

“Nothing- ahrem… nothing for you to worry about.”

His reply stinged. Bitterly. After all that you’ve been through together, he still didn’t trust you. Or he was still resolutely convinced that he had to endure every tribulation alone - you sincerely doubted that Lia and Cal wouldn’t have thrown a fit upon his appearance. 

You didn’t know which of those two possibilities hurt more. 

The righteous wrath inside you disappeared, like extinguished by a bucket of icy water, replaced by a chilling insight - it was utterly useless to fight for him when he wouldn’t stand up for himself. And, more importantly, if he didn’t consider you close enough to him to ask your help, then it was time for you to move on. 

“You suck at lying, you know that?” You felt obligated to point out.

As he was about to object, you continued.

“But you’re right. If you still don’t need my sanctimonious help, I’ll just go about my day. Sorry for the trouble.”

Immediately after spatting those words, you found your outburst childish, but you couldn’t take it back. You began to storm off, determined to fully focus on the wannabe-immortal wizard problem, but a clawed hand grabbing your forearm ended your departure.

“Wait-” 

You whirled around, losing more and more patience. 

“What.”

Rolan sighed, but not in a way that sounded like this was a chore to him. He sighed like one does to give themselves courage before overcoming adversity. The words had left his lips before he could even think them; before he could contemplate their effect on you. Being self-reliant and showing no weaknesses had become an automatic reflex forged by a life of survival. He couldn’t shrug it off overnight - but you were the first person who made him want to try.  

He then compelled himself to look you straight in the eye.

“Don’t lea- I mean, I didn’t mean to…Urgh… Gods damn it… it’s Lorroakan.”

You stared back at him, split between the newfound joy of him confiding in you, and the confusion of hearing his confession.

“Lorrowho?” You asked, slightly tilting your head in puzzlement.

 The name didn’t ring a bell for you, but according to your companions’ exasperated grunts in your back, it certainly did for them.

“The tower’s newest owner”, helpfully prompted Gale behind you. “So-called greatest wizard of the Sword Coast, aspiring to subjugate Dame Aylin, took our friend here as his apprentice?”

“Oooh! That guy!”, you exclaimed. “Well that’s perfect! We were going to kick his ass anyway!”

You could have announced to Rolan that you were planning to fight a dragon with your bare hands, he probably would have gazed at you the same way.

“By the way, Rolan, you can let go now”, you added with a pointed look towards his hand still squeezing your arm.

He let go like he got burned, cheeks reddening again, swore in hellish and apologized. You assured him it was fine. 

“Can you share anything that would help us take down Lorra… Larro… whatever-his-name-his?”

The tiefling straightened up, clearly in his element. 

“Mast- Lorroakan has four Myrmidons.”

He seemed about to carry on on the subject, but stopped in front of your confounded expression.

“Myrmiwhat?”

The apprentice wizard opened his mouth to start an informed lecture about the properties of Myrmidons, before closing it and pinching the bridge of his nose, frustrated by your ignorance.

“Nevermind, I can make this simple for you.”

Feeling insulted, you proceeded to join your hands and excessively flutter your eyelashes to mimic a swooning admirer. 

“Why, thank you Master Rolan! You are ever so generous to us simpletons!”

The aforenamed choked a bit at that, but you were not sure if it was in reaction to your ridiculous antics or to being called “master”.

“As I was saying, Myrmidons are very powerful elementals. You shouldn’t underestimate them.”

You acquiesced with a nod of your head before turning to your Party.

“Let’s get going then.”

“Should we not fetch the Asimaar?” inquired Astarion, observing his nails with detachment. “Not that I particularly care, but with how strongly this concerns her, she may come after us if we keep her out of this.”

You replied without missing a beat, having already pondered the question. 

“No, I want to spare her that.”

The Vampire Spawn let out one of those unhinged little laughs he had a knack for, blending contempt and incredulity. 

“I must have misheard you - spare her? The cutthroat demigod who mercilessly crushes her enemies under her boot? That’s who you want to spare?”

You had expected that kind of reaction, but that didn’t mean you had to like it.

“That’s not what I meant” you grunted, aggravated by the elf’s taunting. “Of course she can take care of herself. But just because she can, doesn’t mean she has to. Dealing with relentless creeps who get off on the idea of breaking you, body and spirit, it’s exhausting, speaking from experience. I couldn’t imagine doing it for centuries. We can provide her a brief respite. If she takes it the wrong way, I’ll deal with the fallout.”

Astarion shrugged, satisfied with your answer since it sheltered him from consequences. The others agreed with nods of the head.

Rolan gave you the directions to reach Lorroakan before adding, frowning:

“Be careful. He has a beastly temper.”

The recommendation made you snicker. Before the tiefling could take offense, you brought your face closer to his, lifting his chin with your index, a wolfish smile stretching your lips. 

“I highly doubt that sorry excuse for a wizard is in any way a beast. But fear not, pretty boy, I’ll show you what beastly really means.”

Whistles and sniggers could be heard from behind you, demonstrating the maturity of your traveling companions. Meanwhile Rolan’s face somehow managed to turn even redder than when you both met again moments ago, and his attempts to come up with a rebuttal resulted only in stuttering. 

Benevolently, you did not comment, careful to not overstep his boundaries too much, and changed the subject, rising an inquisitive eyebrow:

“Are you not coming with us?”

He cleared his throat to give himself a semblance of composure.

“I guess I should, if only to make sure you lot do not ravage the tower on your rampage.”

You smirked a little at his efforts to appear indifferent, but refrained from making any remark, content with his participation.

As you made your way towards your target, Astarion sneaked by your side, a mocking smile adorning his lips. You mentally braced yourself for the jibe that wouldn’t fail to come.

“I figured out why you didn’t want to bring Aylin on our little excursion, darling.”

“Oh really.” you replied with the most blasé tone you could muster.

Unfortunately, your lack of concern didn’t seem to deter your vampiric ally at all.

“You want to keep your prey for yourself. To be the one to slaughter the Master Wizard. You should have seen your face earlier when you threw a fit over Rolan’s bruises, I thought you were going to bite.”

“So what? Is that a problem?”

“Quite the opposite, really. I’m planning to revel in the show. Let’s hope for you that the little wizard is of the same mind, uh?” 

You told him to mind his own business and he just laughed. 

Your group crossed the magic portal, entering Lorroakan’s lavish office only to stumble upon the deplorable spectacle that was the supposed great wizard sadistically torturing his servant for his questionable experimentations. Thankfully, your noteworthy arrival put an end to the loathsome display as the red-haired wizard dismissed his domestic and his mechanical construction.

“I see no Nightsong. Surely you wouldn’t have entered my tower without the Nightsong in hand. Surely my worthless apprentice wouldn’t have allowed you to waste my time.”

That last remark made your blood boil as surely as it did earlier when you laid eyes upon Rolan’s contused face. You gritted your teeth, plastering on a fake smile, before giving the man a taste of his own scorn by ignoring him completely and ostensibly turning towards Rolan.

“Is that the pathetic excuse that serves as your mentor?”

The apprentice wizard spared a glance at Lorroakan who was suffocating with indignation before focusing on you.

“... Yes, he is.”

“Great! Would have been so awkward to kill the wrong guy!”

Bestowing your most bloodthirsty smile on your foe, you made a point to talk over his outraged diatribe.

“There’s only two things you should know, really. First : you will never get your hands on the Nightsong. Second : I’m going to kill you, and I’m going to enjoy it.” 

Having said your piece, you unsheathed your weapon as the wizard invoked his Myrmidons, and the battle began.

⚡⚡⚡

Standing over Lorroakan’s battered body, you made sure that he was in too much pain to ramble again. Rolan came to stand beside you, the shock on his face telling you that he had a hard time believing what he was seeing.

You looked at him inquisitively.

“Wanna do the honors?”, you suggested, referring to the final blow. 

As he remained motionless and speechless, you started to worry you had said the wrong thing, but suddenly his expression turned resolute and he nodded. 

You distanced yourself from the two wizards, not fancying getting caught in a spell’s blast. Rolan uttered his incantation with force - detono.

With a mixture of astonishment and awe, you watched Lorroakan’s body get hurled across the room and through the nearest window in a cacophony of shattering glass. You leaned through the destroyed window to glimpse at the mangled corpse before turning to Rolan with a low whistle.

“So much for not ravaging the tower, uh-”

You found yourself unable to finish your clever quip as your favorite tiefling grabbed you by the collar and crushed his lips against yours. The motion was brutal and clumsy, to the point that you briefly wondered if he was trying to kiss you or punch you in the lips… with his lips.

Barely leaving you enough time to reciprocate the gesture, Rolan withdrew, a wild look in eyes, panting slightly. Did he forget to breathe during…?

“You-”

“This is all your fault!”

You gaped at him in uncomfortable silence, immobile, truly at a loss for words. What in the nine hells did you do this time, again?

One hand released your clothing as Rolan covered half his face with it in consternation. 

“And to think I promised myself I wouldn’t lash out at you again… Do you see how I lose my composure in your presence? Every. Bloody. Time. It’s infuriating.” He sighed.

You crossed your arms, staring at his piercing yellow eyes.

“Riiight.” 

He had at least the tact to appear marginally embarrassed under your scrutinizing gaze.

“Not a day has passed since Last Light Inn where you weren’t on my mind.” he admitted, albeit begrudgingly, rubbing his neck in bashfulness, and unable to meet your eyes.

Your eyes widened at the confession. This was a surprise, although a pleasant one.

“You… you don’t hate me for it?”

It was his turn to stare in astonishment.

“For what…?”

“You made a spectacle of yourself in front of the whole Inn because of me…”

“Please, I’m not tone-deaf enough to not acknowledge my own responsibility in this. We both had… a lot… to drink.”

“Oh… Well, in that case… I’ve been thinking about you too. Since the Inn.”

It was only fair to come clean too after he made the first move, which must have definitely cost him and his pride.

“Oh.”

There you were, two blushing idiots staring at their own feet in embarrassment, not knowing what to do with yourselves. That is, until you remembered what started all of this, and you raised your head so suddenly Rolan got startled.

“We need to heal your face.”

He chuckled openly at that, but instead of taking offense, seeing him happy spread warmth in your chest.

“You should heal yourself first, ô mighty hero. You’re in way worse shape than I am.”

You frowned and grabbed his face to inspect his bruises closer.

“Being injured is second-nature for me. I don’t think you can say the same. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

He took hold of your hips in response. A derisive smile stretched his lips.

“What a poorly concealed way to get me to undress.”

“How dare you”, you protested, scandalized. “imply that my benevolence is anything but proper?”

“Maybe I wish it wasn’t.”

Before you could ask for clarification, he kissed you.

“Rolan…”

“Mmh…”

Again.

“I was serious about healing you…”

“Mh.”

And again.

You grabbed his robes and shoved him against the closest bookshelf in a drastic attempt to put some space between your bodies. The action didn’t seem to deter him at all, if anything it added fuel to the fire, as you could feel his claws even through your clothes. To make matters worse, you quickly realized that getting away was impossible with how tight his tail was coiled around your thigh. 

All your worries disappeared however as a very familiar voice could be heard from somewhere on the floor underneath. Rolan definitely heard it too as he looked in its direction with a mixture of dread and annoyance. 

You couldn’t discern entirely what Lia was saying, but the words “Rolan” and “Lorroakan” were definitely part of it.

You looked at Rolan with an unequivocal expression.

“We should go to them… and reassure them that you’re not dead or something.”

The new master of the tower threw his hands up in surrender, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

“Fine, fine!”

“Also, we’re going to fall to our deaths in the stairs if you don’t keep your tail to yourself, Mister…”

Rolan dashed off in the direction of the stairs, grumbling about siblings and lack of privacy, not without grabbing your hand in passing. 

[anatay004]

ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ | ᴊᴀᴄᴀᴇʀʏꜱ ᴠᴇʟᴀʀʏᴏɴ (ᴘᴀʀᴛ 5)

Jacaerys hated you ever since you were kids, but after years of enigmatic feelings and constant fighting, he finally realizes he’s in love with you on your wedding day.

Warnings: Sexual references, smut, profanity & Targaryen incest.

ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ᴡᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜱᴀɪᴅ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ

ᴡᴇ ᴋɴᴇᴡ

"WHERE IS SHE?"

Jacaerys whispered the decibels in his voice notched down just enough for his mother to hear.  She sucked in a breath, trying to keep the worry in her features disguised as she placed a reassuring hand on her son's shoulder.

"Let us give her a moment, Jace, I'm sure she's a little overwhelmed, that's all." His mother's words were meant to comfort him, but the fugitive tone in her voice made him tense.

She's not coming, he thought.

And it was almost funny because, a few hours earlier, he was certain things had elucidated between you and him. The vestiges of last night rested in the back of his head – his confession, your caring touch, and the blissful kiss that he had longed for what felt like eternities.

But something pestered his certainty.

He wasn't aware of the reason, the fever that torched his head disoriented his memories, but he knew something unpleasant had happened. Why else would you take a step back again?

"Perhaps, my niece decided to leave at last."

"Daemon – " Rhaenyra began, a berating tone in her words before the sound of parting doors interrupted her and the room grew silent.

Perhaps, it was the blatant surprise of you stepping into the room or the dazing image you radiated but, whatever the case was, everyone looked at you walk towards him.

He faltered the moment his gaze landed on you.

Subconsciously, his eyes leveled down to scrutinize the snowy fabric that embraced your shape, and – he swallowed hard. Perhaps, it was the sheets of fabric that slipped down your shoulders, the bitter seahorse pendant that rested against your skin, or the evident goosebumps that peppered your skin.

But he was spellbound.

"Blood of two, joined as one," The Septon began, the words loud and in High Valyrian, but they slipped out his mind almost immediately.

You weren't looking back at him.

And his worries were confirmed when your hands slipped into his own, hesitantly and with a nonchalant warmth that made him tense. He tried to search for your gaze, but the wisps of eyelashes that shadowed your face were the only thing that stumbled into his line of vision.

"Ghostly flame and song of shadows. Two hearts tethered to one future promise in glass."

"Why are you avoiding me?" Jacaerys suddenly whispered in High Valyrian, his words were barely audible, but he knew you'd caught them, the sudden shift in your shoulders confirmed it.

You didn't respond.

He took a deliberate step forward.

"Are you angry?"

You clenched your jaw.

"The vow spoken through time, of darkness and time, let the two dragons come together as one." The Septon finished, indicating the ceremony was on the brink of ending, meaning – you were his wife, now and forever.

You turned to him then, but you didn't deign to make a move towards him. Your brown irises blazed with challenge, daring him to make a sudden move before everyone in the room.

And he thought about it for a moment.

He really did.

But when he looked back at you, he allowed the hesitation to dissipate as he subconsciously closed the gap between you and him. The palm of his hand slide down to curve against your cheek before you could even react, he steadied his other hand around your waist and pulled you towards him in a swift movement. His lips pressed against yours warmly, but there was something that differ vastly from the kiss you shared the previous night – this one was deeper and miserable, and prolonged.

Apologetic.

"May the gods drape the cloth of eternity over your union."

You fell back a step, breaking the kiss as you tried to discreetly catch your breath. He held you still, suddenly remembering everyone was watching, he cleared his throat and slide his hands down your arms to rub your skin.

You tensed.

The clapping was eventually stifled, and when he turned to his mother, she smiled and nodded indicating the small celebration was ready. "Please, let us celebrate in the Great Hall, we'll be more than happy to have your company as we honor this marriage!"

"This farce, you mean." You mumbled in High Valyrian, and made to follow the crowd, but he latched his hand onto your wrist and pulled you back almost immediately.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just a silly thought I had." You spat, narrowing your eyes at him as you tried to lose his grip.

"What?" He questioned, blinking in utter confusion as he slide an arm around your waist to stop you from moving so much.

Your eyebrows knitted together, leaning back to examine his disoriented gestures carefully. "You don't remember, do you?"

He shook his head. "Please, remind me."

"Very well," You began, straightening your posture. "If I remember correctly, you mentioned it was almost silly to have a whore for a wife."

His face went pale.

There it was, what he had feared to hear.

"I didn't mean it, love – "

" – it really doesn't matter, anymore."

"You're my wife now, shit like this matters." Jacaerys pushed forward.

You tilted your head.

He narrows his eyes, and a hint of mischief flashed across your eyes so briefly that he almost missed it, but it had been there and he swallowed hard. You leaned closer to his face and pressed your breath against his skin hotly as you whispered, "Prove it."

__________________________

The celebration was warm and crowded, the perfect scene that Jacaerys hoped to imagine when the thought of marrying you anchored in his head. However, it wasn't alluring in the slightest, not when everyone was stealing and asking you for a dance before his eyes.

He tried to dismiss it.

When you asked him to prove himself, he knew it meant placing trust in you. He knew it meant to behave and act nonchalant when someone else slide an arm behind your waist and pulled you close – he knew it, but you made it hard.

So fucking hard.

He watched you in the limelight, the snow-white fabric of your dress and the waves of hair that cascaded down your back were luminous – impossible to miss. You were the light in the room, everyone could see it, dancing and mumbling something that made you itch a smile as another twirled you around.

He clenched his jaw.

"Here," Daemon's voice broke into his thoughts, as he offered him a cup of wine and took a seat next to him. "It'll help enlighten the mood."

Jacaerys swept the cup a look, it was filled to the brim with tempting alcohol that he knew would most likely cloud his reason. But he was on the brink of climbing to his feet and dragging you out the dance floor, so, he decided to dissipate the malicious thought with a cup of wine.

And then another.

And another.

And another.

Until he was laughing at something Daemon had mumbled and both were acting the fool. You didn't notice it at first, you were distracted by the music, until their voices raised up a few decibels and you finally turned around.

"Bring us another bottle of wine!"

"Fuck, I think I lost my dagger."

And then their laughter ricocheted off the walls.

"Excuse me," You whispered, a hint of embarrassment glossed over your features as you began to trace back your steps to the dinner table, where your family was sitting at.

But your muscles faltered the moment Baela made her way towards Jacaerys. She placed an almost caring arm around his shoulders as she leaned close to his face to whisper something to his ear, which he quickly shook his head too.

It was harmless, you knew.

But the blood rushed into your skin and tinged with scarlet your cheeks.

"Jace, you need to slow down." Baela pushed forward, sliding an arm around his waist when he suddenly stood up and fell back a step.

"Where's my wife?" He loudly questioned, dropping an arm around Baela's shoulders in support as he searched for you.

"This is embarrassing, Daemon." Rhaenyra breathed out, darting her husband a look that he dismissed as soon as it was thrown.

"I was lightening the mood." Daemon defended and Jacaerys' laugh quickly followed.

"What the hell happened?" You questioned, rushing to Jacaerys with evident confusion.

"My father got him drunk," Baela answered, helping him ease down onto the chair again.

"My love," Jacaerys happily called, pushing back on his chair when you stumbled into his line of vision. You quickly wrapped an arm around his waist when he abruptly stood up and Baela helped. "You look so beautiful tonight."

You blinked. "How much did he drink?"

"We lost count, I'm afraid." Rhaenyra answered as she rubbed her temples in distress.

Your eyebrows jumped.

"My love, I never meant to hurt you – "

" – We can talk about this later, Jace." You swiftly interjected, not wanting everyone in the room to hear about your relationship troubles.

"I'll call the guards to help him back to your chamber," Rhaenyra informed when she noticed your arms were growing weaker and Baela was falling back a step tiredly. "I think the celebration comes to an end now."

__________________________

"We will have many children, all with your white hair and beautiful brown eyes, I hope."

You tried to stifle the faint smile that itched your lips, but it was truly impossible. After the guards had maneuvered him inside the room and eased him down onto the bed, he began to mumble incoherences again that almost touched you.

And, after debating with yourself for a minute, you eventually decided to go along with it. Even if you were still mad at him, you supposed he kept his promise and did not accuse you of anything that night, despite you dancing with everyone in the room to rile him up on purpose.

He did try.

"What if they have your brown hair?" You questioned, taking a seat next to him on the bed.

Jace sighed in concern. "I wouldn't want that."

Your eyebrows knitted together. "Why is that?"

Jace shrugged, taking a strand of your hair in his fingers. "They'll be bastards in the eyes of the kingdom, just as my brother and I are."

Your gestures dropped. "That's not true."

He scuffed, pushing back some of the hair that draped over your shoulders to expose your neck. A shiver kissed down your spine as the pad of his finger brushed against your skin – warm and careful. "I'm not stupid, love, I know what I am."

You couldn't coherent an answer, so, you grew quiet as your features radiated faint sadness. You'd never thought about this, never would have the idea of your children's paternity being in question stumbled into your head.

But there he was, growing anxious as the shadow of his past adorned his dear future.

"You're a good man and our children will be lucky to have you as their father." The words slipped past your lips before you could even think twice and, for a moment, his lips curved in utter amusement – teasingly.

But he didn't answer with words, instead, he took your hand in his. He intertwined his fingers with yours, resting his flesh against the cool touch of your skin willingly as if it didn't matter. For a second, the silence that ensued in the room was comforting and you relished the moment until a silly question broke the peace.

"Do you love me?"

The words were low and quiet as if he was almost afraid of being too bold and pushing down your bottoms all at once. But you didn't answer at first, you held back your breath as he looked back at you searchingly, a hint of insobriety seeped into his irises as he waited....hopeful.

"Because I do," He suddenly confessed. "And I don't think you're a whore. Unlike, I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. You're kind and brave and strong. And I hate that I can't be the only one to notice it, sometimes that anger gets the best of me, but believe me, never in a million fucking years will I ever allow that title to fall under you again. I swear it."

You remained quiet.

I do love you, you thought.

But your head reeled when you tried to whisper it into the open air – you couldn't. Not because it wasn't true, but because it had lingered in your tongue for so long that it was almost troubling to mumble. "I'm not good with words."

"Then don't say anything." He pled.

You wanted to avoid the situation, you wanted to climb back to your feet and make your way out, but something anchored you. You couldn't let go of his hand and, as he waited for an answer, you subconsciously dropped your gaze to his lips.

Gods, you thought.

"It's okay if – " but the words never slipped out.

He was taken aback when he met your lips. It was fleeting and almost feather-like, but the moment you pulled away for an instant, he raked his fingers through your hair and tilted your head so he could deepen the kiss. Then it was a different kind of heat altogether; it was desperate and lusting and he shivered as your tongue swept past his lips almost subconsciously.

"I want you," he suddenly breathed out. His words were hoarse and in the back of his throat, as the fingers that threaded your hair yanked back your head to meet his eyes evenly. "To myself."

You swallowed.

The sudden hue that dimmed his eyes was unrecognizable, it was a shade of brown that tethered to night and mist and darkness. You couldn't exactly place it into words, but it rolled sheepishness over your flesh.

"You're drunk," You whispered carefully, but a mirth of laugh echoed in his throat as he pressed his lips against your jawline breathlessly.

"I haven't been drunk in years."

You leaned back to examine him. He was suddenly looking back at you with a clearheaded facade that made you shake your head in amusement. "You fucking liar."

Shamelessly, he only looked down at your flustered lips. "Question me."

You paused.

Oh, you thought.

You tried to quench down the heat that tinged with scarlet your cheeks when you realized he was serious, but it was almost futile to hide. His fingers began to travel up the skin of your thighs slowly, slithering between your legs as you held back your breath in evident surprise.

"Question me." He repeated.

"How bad do you want me?"  You sucked in, when his fingers stilled just below your drawers, toying with the damped fabric of your undergarment – relishing the sudden response from your body as he met your eyes.

"How fucking bad do you think?" He whispered as his eyes roamed over your face and, although you were not naked, you felt like it under his gaze. "I didn't threaten Jason Lannister for nothing. Nor did I beg your father to make me your husband for a stupid peace I desire not. I could give two fucks about the Queen and her children, but I wanted you so bad."

He threatened a Lannister.

He toyed with your father's reason.

He wasn't drunk.

You tried to open your mouth, but his long fingers entered you before a word could escape. Instead, a strangled moan was your response and he pushed into you until your back was pressing against the mattress and your legs were shaking softly beneath his touch.

"And you wanted me, did you not?" He groaned and captured your lips in a brusque manner that forced a breath to escape your mouth. He tasted like alcohol and soft delight, like secrets and thinly-veiled passions that made him so unfamiliar to you. His kiss was bruising and commanding as his fingers slide out your cunt and began to undress you. "When you relished the jealousy in my face and the anger in my bones, did you not?"

You didn't answer.

He was almost intimidating as he tore the last piece of your gown from your body and the cold seeped into your skin almost immediately. He stopped then, only for a second, as he looked down to examine your naked flesh.

"You're so fucking beautiful." He mumbled, tracing the curve of your hips with his fingers and slowly traveling up to touch the round edge of your breast – placing a kiss on the swell. "Were you not jealous when Baela touched me?"

Your jaw clenched. "You did that on purpose."

His lips trailed up your neck, sucking your skin with teeth and strength until he stopped just below your ear. "Admit it."

"Or what?" You swallowed, subconsciously licking the dry skin on your lips as he pensively faltered on his spot.

"She was to be my wife, did you know?"

"Fuck you."

He bit back a chuckle, finally sliding out his clothes to press his member hard against your bare skin. "Think about it, all the things I could have done if you hadn't been in the picture."

Your skin was searing with anger.

He wanted to riled up your head.

Somehow, the anger that settled on your angelic features turned him on like no other.

"I would've never allowed that," You admitted, wrapping your fingers loosely around his neck, prompting up on one arm to close the distance between your faces. "I would've pestered your thoughts with lust and slithered into your bed before she could have the chance to."

He sucked in a breath. "And I would've fallen, every fucking time I would've picked you."

"Fuck me then."

That's all it took for him to come inside you. It was painful, of course, you'd never been penetrated despite the malicious rumors that spread around Westeros. A moan collected in the back of your throat immediately as he thrust in and out of you with fervor, eyes moving along each movement – at the white cum that gathered around him from you.

"If I didn't know better, I would have said you look like – " he paused, letting out a deep groan as you clenched around him. You knew what he wanted to say, you knew what he fantasized about and what made him weak at the knees.

So, you whispered.

" – say it."

He hesitated.

"Say it." You repeated.

"A fucking whore."

The words made your skin shiver as his thrusts became faster and, after what felt like hours, he eventually approached his own orgasm, and the searing cum soon fest your cervix with loud moans and breathless bodies. He almost collapsed on top of you when you both finished, but he composed for a second to watch you catch your breath as he removed himself from you.

"Do you love me?" He whispered again, brushing the damp strands of hair from your face. Your cheeks were flushed, your lips were nibbled and your skin was drenched in sweat and fluids, but he looked down at you with pure adoration – as if you were the most beautiful thing.

And this time, you answered. "Of course, I do."

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 12

Part 1 Part 11

Steve’s starting to like Eddie the Freak Munson. It would be a problem if he thought they’d ever get out of here. He can almost hear Carol’s derision and Tommy’s violence should Eddie deign to speak to him in front of witnesses. They’d snicker into their milk cartons about torrid love affairs and queerness being communicable, as if there was no other reason for Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson to be seen together. 

It would take minutes for Carol’s whispers to grow sharp, teeth bared into listening ears until Steve joins Eddie as person non grata to the Hawkins populace. Tommy would find Eddie opening his locker and slam his head into it, using fists and nails and slurs to make his opinion known. 

Steve misses them. 

But, he has Eddie now. Eddie, who says what he means. Who’s bandaged Steve up, pulled him off bathroom floors and grocery store aisles, and vine-filled alleyways. And he’s so goddamn distracting, Steve sometimes forgets how scared he is.

“Dungeons and dragons is like, for the creme de le creme, Harrington,” he says, pacing the length of his shoebox living room, gesturing wildly with one hand while the other throws his fucked-up dice up and down with surprising dexterity. “While you jocks are playing your sports ball, the rest of us are learning the ways of the blade.”

Steve laughs. “No, fucking way, man.”

Eddie spins, waggling his finger condescendingly in Steve’s face, towering over him where he’s seated on the Munson’s springy couch. “The blade is metaphorical, my liege, but the mettle we test and the bonds we strengthen are not!”

Steve leans back in his seat, slouching away from Eddie’s closeness. “You’re such a nerd.” He means it as a joke, but the way Eddie’s mouth twists makes regret curdle in his intestines. “So how does this work?” he asks, gesturing to the die now clutched in Eddie’s palm.

Eddie smiles, still leaning over him, dimples popping, before dropping to sit crisscross in front of Steve with alarming speed. He holds his hand out, throwing the die into Steve’s lap.

“Now, we’re talking Stevie,” Eddie says, flapping his hands, before shoving them beneath his butt and letting his bent knees flap instead. “It’s easy.”

Steve looks down at the die. It’s white and translucent, the red of the light from the windows turning it a soft pink. The edges feel almost sharp as he turns it over in his fingers, counting the sides. The numbers aren’t like normal dice, with the dots. They’re just numbers, slowly counting up, 1, 2, 3, all the way to twenty. 

“There’s a dungeon master, moi,” he says, gesturing with grandiosity toward himself, “who spins a tale for the rest of the party.” Steve nods along, like he knows what a party means, or what a dungeon master is. “Alright, you ready, Stevie?”

“What? Munson, I didn’t agree to–”

Eddie jumps up, making Steve startle back, barely keeping hold of the die. “Sir Steven, arrives at the front of a castle. It’s covered in vines, they’re trailing up the windows, making it impossible to see the glass that covers them.” 

Steve glances at the windows of the Munson trailer, the way the vines have blocked out more of the light, leaving trailing shadows like vines to cast shapes across the stained carpet. 

“Sir Steven unmounts his horse,” Eddie says, miming lifting his leg off an imaginary beast and jumping down to the ground. Steve can almost picture it. “What do you do?”

Eddie’s making an almost uncomfortable amount of eye contact, eye’s shining with more life than he’s shown in what has to be days. “I go into the castle,” Steve replies, voice lilting in question. Is there a right answer?

Eddie claps his hands three times, quick and quiet, grinning as he drops back down, this time on the coffee table,  leaning toward Steve. “Roll the die.”

Steve looks down at the die in his hand. He leans to the side, rolling it on the table by Eddie’s side. The clatter it makes as it bounces sounds loud in the absence of this world. It stops. Steve leans over at the same time as Eddie, Eddie’s hair tickling the back of his neck with the way it trails down. 

“A nineteen!” Eddie says excitedly. “The door knob turns easily, both unlocked and well-oiled enough not to make a sound despite its apparent age. You walk into the castle. It’s dark in the foyer, but there’s a candle inexplicably lit, beckoning you up the stairs. Your armored feet clack loudly on the worn-down wooden floors as you walk up them. You reach the candle, what do you do?”

“I pick up the candle?” Steve asks. 

Eddie picks up the die, putting it back into Steve’s hands. He rolls it. “Three?”

Eddie clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Just as you pick up the candle, it’s as if a breeze rolls through the whole castle. You keep a hold on the candlestick, but the flame goes out. You freeze. Sir Steven, you’re practically shaking in your boots! And then, a voice, dark and grating snarls out of the darkness in front of you, ‘who dares disturb my slumber??”

Steve looks down at the die, that damning three staring back at him. “So, low numbers make bad things happen, and high numbers make something good?” he asks. 

Eddie waffles his hand back and forth, “sorta,” he says, pickup the die up off the coffee table and throwing it in the air again. “It’s more like, whether or not you complete that one action you list correctly. Like, a one is going to make you miss your target if you’re firing at something, yeah, but it doesn’t say anything about whether you should’ve been firing the gun in the first place.”

Steve digests this. “It’s kind of like sports stats,” he says, thinking aloud. “A high number of assists means you’re helping get the ball in the hoop, but it doesn’t say anything about how the game’s gonna go.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Eddie replies. 

SIlence falls between them, the only sound the quiet slap of the die hitting Eddie’s palm. Steve waits. And waits. And waits. His impatience grows, “Well?”

Eddie snaps his eyes to Steve’s face, brow furrowed. “Well, what?”

“What happens with the sleeping dude?”

Eddie’s eyes open wide, more whites than pupil, as his mouth drops open, seemingly shocked by something Steve doesn’t understand. It takes him a second to continue, but he does.

Steve fights off some old magical wizard dude, destroying the castle and breaking the wizard’s curse in the process. He crumbles to dust. It’s kind of sad. He tells Eddie as much, only to get laughed at.

“He was tired, man,” he says. “All he wanted was for his nightmare to end, and someone to help him rest.”

Steve looks back at the vines crawling up the windows, and can’t help but empathize. 

“I don’t know man,” he says. “Sports seem easier.”

Eddie laughs. “Sports are boring, Harrington. What’s there even to like about throwing a ball through a hoop like a bunch of cavemen?”

“It’s like,” Steve starts, before stalling out. Staring down at his knees. He’s still thinking about the wizard and how sad and tired he must’ve been. There’s something to be said about a game that doesn’t leave you in a moral quandary, wondering if assisted suicide is okay if the dude is tired and old enough. 

“It’s like, when I’m swimming, or running the ball up the court, I’m so in my body that I’m out of it, you know?” Steve asks. “I don’t have to think about anything but the next step. Does that make sense?”

When he looks up from his knees, Eddie’s cheeks are rosy, and he’s holding a piece of hair in front of his mouth again. “Sure,” he says, voice almost squeaking out before he clears it, dropping it past his normal register, “That makes sense.”

Steve laughs. “Whatever, man.”

There are two feelings warring in Steve’s stomach. He’s more comfortable, here on a ratty couch playing a nerd game with Eddie Munson than he can ever remember being. He’s terrified of getting out, terrified of staying here, terrified of what waits for them outside these walls.

The feelings coalesce in his stomach, making him queasy. Or maybe he’s just hungry. He can almost smell the bacon frying on the griddle, can almost see Eddie in the booth across from him. 

Maybe they can play his nerd game while they wait for a coffee refill. Steve sighs, not thinking of Tommy and Carol at all. 

Part 13

[lovelyhan]

— caught in the middle (a teaser) ⟢

mingyu knows. he's perfectly aware that his best friend's girlfriend is the last person he should end up wanting. but who is he to refuse when wonwoo invites him to join something he never thought he could ever be part of?

★ FEATURING; wonwoo x reader x mingyu

★ WORD COUNT; 1.3k words

★ TAGS; established relationship, streamer au, one-sided pining, fluff, smut (in future scenes; this teaser is completely sfw)

★ WARNINGS; brief mentions of twitter porn

★ NOTES; streamer wonwoo is back and he now comes in a set with his equally hot streamer best friend :] i'd recommend reading underlying pretense and favorite poison first for added context, but you can totally read this teaser (and future story) as a standalone :^)

★ DISCLAIMER; some elements in this teaser are not final and might change in the actual fic.  

This is, by far, the worst day of Mingyu’s life. 

Okay, maybe he’s exaggerating, but he likes to think that he’s a man of routine. If he doesn’t get to do his morning rituals right before his streams, it feels like the world has been tilted a few degrees off its proper axis. 

And that’s exactly what’s happening now, when Mingyu realizes that his favorite Twitter porn account is nowhere to be found. 

How the hell is he supposed to get his daily dose of relief now?

“Mingyu, you’re dragging your ass a lot today,” Seungcheol’s voice sounds pissed through his headphones and Mingyu can’t exactly fault him for it. Not when he ended up making their team lose their third Valorant match in a row. “The hell’s up with you? I thought you already practiced using Gekko with Vernon the other day.”

“We did and he was actually pretty good,” the younger man comments. “Dunno what suddenly got into him today though.”

“Cheol-hyung, you shouldn’t berate Mingyu when you royally sucked at using Neon during the time she was first released,” Wonwoo quips.

Seungcheol immediately makes a disgruntled noise at that. “I did not royally suck! She just doesn’t fit my playstyle. And I get that you guys are glued to the hip at this point, but you of all people should know when to call out your teammates especially if they’re being a bunch of noobs, Wonwoo.”

“Now, now, didn’t we already talk about this? No fighting when we’re only doing a bunch of scrimmages between friends.” 

A less abrasive voice flits into the call and Mingyu finds himself relaxing into his seat as he stares at the glowing red DEFEAT screen on his monitor. Ever since you and Wonwoo finally dropped the act of hating each other and started dating, you’ve constantly mediated any petty arguments that sparked within their group. Mingyu is all sorts of grateful, but is just a tad bit embarrassed whenever he’s part of the argument in question.

“Yeah, what she said,” Wonwoo agrees with a huff. 

“Whatever, man. Koyahngi has watered down your temper so much, it makes me look like the most easily tilted player on the team,” Seungcheol grumbles before adding, “Ugh. Couples.”

Vernon laughs softly. “Crazy how you’re the one who always insisted for Wonwoo-hyung to be kinder, but now that he is, you suddenly want him to go back to his trash-talking ways.”

“Now why’s everyone dogpiling me now!” the older man whines.

About half an hour and another lost match later, everyone decides to call it a day. Seungcheol and Vernon are going to hold a joint stream together and Mingyu needs to get ready for another modeling gig he managed to land a couple of days ago. He’s not sure what you and Wonwoo had in store for the day, but his best friend and roommate mentioned that you were going to drop by their apartment sometime today. 

But when Mingyu finally deigned to grab a towel and head to the bathroom, he instead makes a detour to the couch with a desolate sigh. He unlocks his phone and opens the Twitter app like it was second nature, tapping on the button that pulls up his most recent searches.  

goodcat_badcat

He absentmindedly types the username to an account that’s been his constant companion whenever he needed to let off some steam. Though he hasn’t checked her profile in a while, Mingyu was under the impression that goodcat_badcat would still be there to give him a hand especially when his schedule has been driving him insane these days. 

But when the app redirects him to the main profile, the same words that greeted him when he woke up with his painfully hard morning wood stare back at him. Something went wrong. Try again.

She deactivated. His favorite Twitter porn girl is fucking gone and now he’s got nothing but despair and the bluest balls in the entire city. 

“Hey.”

Mingyu jolts at the sound of Wonwoo’s voice, immediately locking his phone before tossing it on the other side of the couch as if it burned him. He’s quick to whirl around to greet him with a too-wide smile.

“Hyung, what’s up?” Mingyu asks, thanking the heavens that his voice didn’t crack.

His best friend looks at him weirdly. “Uh, do you have any plans today? We’re going out to go bowling today and she told me to ask if you wanted to come along.”

Bowling. Wonwoo sucks at bowling, but you managed to rope him into going with you anyways. If that’s not true love, Mingyu doesn’t know what is. 

“I’d love to, but I’ve got a shoot in…” Mingyu’s voice falters before reaching for the phone he just tossed away—heart dropping to his stomach when he looks at the time. “Shit. Thirty minutes.”

He doesn’t wait for Wonwoo’s response before bounding towards the bathroom with a towel in hand.

The part-time model hasn’t gotten ready faster in his entire life. Though his manager told him that the brand he’s shooting for this time isn’t strict with time, Mingyu doesn’t want to make it a habit to show up late for his commitments.

Streamers already have a bad enough image to those who aren’t part of the industry, and he wants to make it a point that not every single one of them is a slob who doesn’t shower and makes tardiness a way of life.

As he pulls on a snapback over his still-damp hair—opting to let the stylists on the set handle it for him instead—he faintly hears your voice outside of his bedroom door. 

“Aww, he isn’t coming?”

“Yeah. Let’s just invite him next time,” Wonwoo’s muffled response manages to reach his ears as well.

With one last glance in the mirror, Mingyu hoists his bag across his shoulder before opening the door to his room. He spots you seated on the armrest of their couch, kicking your legs somewhat adorably before you meet his gaze with surprise.

For someone who’s supposed to be bowling today, you don’t really look the part. Of course, your signature Koyahngi cat ear headband is sitting on top of your head, as in-theme as always. You also paired up your short, pleated skirt with lace-trimmed thigh highs and chunky white boots. Not to mention the sheer, low cut top that gives him an ample view of your cleavage… 

“Gyu, do you have a photoshoot today or something?” Your question promptly snaps him out of his somewhat rude staring. “Here I thought we could team up and destroy Wonwoo together in the bowling alley.”

“As if I’d allow that,” his best friend scoffs. “Mingyu’s teaming up with me, princess. Then you’ll be crying in the bowling alley while we get ourselves a victory treat from the snackbar.”

“We are not going to do that, and yeah, I have a photoshoot…that I’m already late for actually,” Mingyu replies with a bubble of laughter. “That’s okay. You and Wonwoo-hyung have fun. Pro-tip, he actually sucks at bowling, so you’ll score much better than he will.” 

You giggle before getting back on your feet, making your way over to Mingyu faster than he can prepare himself for. He hasn’t quite noticed it as vividly as he does now, but you’re so much smaller than him—even with the added inches of your boots. 

It doesn’t help that the way you’re cutely looking up at Mingyu with those pretty doe eyes as you examine his outfit is making sweat bead across his temples. Great.

“Doesn’t seem like you’re heading to a shoot though,” you laugh. “You’re going on a date, aren’t you? Who’s the lucky guy or gal? Why’d you dress up like Tadashi Hamada just to impress them?”

Wonwoo snorts. “You mean the guy who died in Big Hero 6?”

“Well, yeah, but he was also my childhood crush, so shut up, Wonwoo.”

Your childhood crush. He looks like your childhood crush. 

As Mingyu watches you bicker with his roommate—your boyfriend and his best friend—he realizes something that could change the trajectory of this friendship forever.

He might have a crush on someone he isn’t supposed to want.

⟢ end notes: hope you enjoyed the teaser so far! do leave a reply if you want to be tagged once the fic is up (hint: i'll be dropping it on wonwoo's birthday hehe)

[gabessquishytum]

They're using Hob's apartment building for a high fashion photo shoot.

Hob is fascinated by all the hot men and women traipsing around various open spaces of his building. And he may have tried shooting his shot with one or two (or three or four) of them.

Hob is fine with getting shot down by snobby hotness, nothing beats failure, but a try. And then he's sooo glad he was shot down, because the hotest man Hob has ever seen just joined the models and Hob would do anything for a minute of his attention.

Hob does not want to be a creep; so he asks around about the new guy (and while he was shot down for dates, the other models still like Hob enough to talk to him). Hob learns that the new guy is Dream, one of the top models in the world -- Hob knew he recognized him.

While trying to think up a non-creepy approach, the universe does him a solid --- Hob and pretty boy get stuck in the building's old elevator. Hob just back from in gym in his teeny shorts and tits out underarmor (Hob would have preferred to have been dressed in his professor's togs, but with the way Dream is staring,,,,maybe he's winning).

Hob is charming as he can be......and gets a perhaps when he asks pretty boy out. 😍🤩

Omg such a great meet-cute! I love the fact that Dream is the one who ends up staring and starstruck <3

Hob’s tits just really are that good, and Dream deigns to spend time with him for the rest of the shoot. Hob brings proper coffee down from his apartment, plus biscuits (his instinct to feed all these gorgeous but skinny models is definitely showing). Dream sits quietly in between sets while Hob chats about his work and the article he's hoping to get published.

As the shoot comes to an end, Dream seems genuinely bummed that he won't get to hang out with Hob any more (or maybe it's the good coffee that he'll miss). Either way he follows Hob up to his apartment on the last day, lingering in the hallway like he can't quite make up his mind...

He looks at Hob’s chest in his compression shirt and seems to make up his mind.

They don't actually have a date until breakfast the next day. Hob makes scrambled eggs and coffee and pinches himself repeatedly because Dream is sitting at his breakfast bar wearing one of Hob’s larger tank tops and some very tiny briefs. Dream’s pink lips are swollen with kissing, and when Hob looks down at himself he'll see the huge hickey on his left tit. A bold reminder of last night.

He is so glad he tried with Dream. And VERY thankful for his boobs <3

[idyllic-ghost]

SEVENTEEN SCI-FI COLLAB MASTERLIST

Artificial intelligence is something that has interested humans for ages. The idea that we could create a conscious being through code seems unattainable to some, and a matter of time to others. Our story takes place 100 years after a catastrophe which led the Earth to join another solar system - new planets and new living beings to explore. Thanks to these evolved life forms, humans managed to create Automatons. These robots became everything from our workers to our idols. However, what happens when Automatons gain consciousness? Won't they want to go after their own dreams, to be free, to love and to be loved? In this collaboration we follow the automaton idol group SEVENTEEN on their journey to freedom. Will everyone make it?

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Author: @strawberryya

Pairing: AI! S.coups x human! reader

Title: Ghost in the Machine

Synopsis: Secrets can only be kept as secrets for so long, everyone knows this. Yet when 5.C0UP5 came in contact with someone he never should have even known existed this notion seemed as foreign as his own name. Perhaps there exists another way of life even for him, or maybe it was all a dream too big to dream of.

Genre: fluff, angst, smut

Rating: 18+

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Author: @wonuwoe

Title: On The Contrary

Pairing: ai!Jeonghan x human!reader

Synopsis: You knew the risks of pursuing a member from 53V3NT33N but maybe your certain privileges have been fueling this illusion of a possible connection with J30NGHΛN, who surprisingly sparks your interest with his deep curiosity about the other sides of humanity. Would you be willing to continue despite the looming deceit that you might get roped into?

Genre: angst, smut

Rating: 18+

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Author: @shuadotcom

Pairing: A.I.!Joshua x Human Manager!Reader

Title: Press Reset

Synopsis: J05HUΛ was created with a single purpose and that is to entertain his fans. It’s all he’s known as long as he’s existed. Somewhere along the way, the desire, the want, and the longing to leave Earth and be “normal” creeps into the pathways of his mind, as does a suppressed loathing of the humans who treat him as nothing more than a money-making machine. Except for you of course - the only human who seems to treat him as if he’s a regular being with thoughts and emotions. When he’s presented with the opportunity to finally escape and pursue what he’s been waiting for, he’s sure as hell going to take it and he’s going to make sure he takes you with him to start over and just be Joshua - not J05HUΛ of 53V3NT33N.

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut

Rating: 18+

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Author: @stardragongalaxy

Pairing: AI!Junhui x Hacker!reader

Title: Desires Await

Synopsis: Jun's desire had become insatiable, but what awaits him when he finally tastes the sweetness of his journey?

Genre: horror, angst, fluff

Rating: 18+

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Author: @lovelyhan

Pairing: ai!hoshi x mechanic!reader

Title: Daylight

Synopsis: When Hoshi first opened his eyes, the singular impulse hard-wired into his circuitry is to dance. A performer in every sense of the word, he simply finds another stage to set foot on in the planet of Salax after the escape. No one ever overstays their welcome here, but he unexpectedly meets you—a mechanic born and raised in a place where no one deigns to linger for too long.

Genre: fluff, angst, smut

Rating: 18+

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Author: @drunk-on-dk

Pairing: ai!wonwoo x R&D!reader

Title: OVERSET

Synopsis: Increasingly becoming cognizant of the worlds surrounding him, W0NW00, an AI so carefully wired and generated with the purest intentions even has the potential to become jaded. How can such a consumeristic world be so cruel when all he once knew was the joys of 53V3NT33N? This new understanding makes him unfamiliar to fans; his creator sending him to you, a trusted developer of LEVEL 1 robots, in hopes that you can reverse the sudden changes in W0NW00’s conscious. Are you part of the system W0NW00 is learning to become adverse to? Or will your presence help remind him of the world he once only had knowledge of?

Genre: fluff, angst, suggestive

Rating: 18+

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Author: @angelwoozi

Title: ERROR 143

Pairing: ai!woozi x researcher!reader

Synopsis: Love is an equation. It's complex, it's hard to solve. But it's even harder when the subject is an object, and not a human. An automaton, who is said to display love, but doesn't actually feel it. Naturally, the emotion doesn't flow in the wires— if not in the form of signals. So, what do you do when Woozi is assigned to you, as a test subject? A robot which doesn't show any qualities— not even the basic ones which his cast iron and thermoplastic, wired friends do.

Genre: angst, fluff

Rating: PG 13

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Author: @playmetheclassics

Title: Neural Networks

Pairing: AI!Seokmin x Malovent/Human Hybrid Female Reader

Synopsis: The Escape allowed Dokyeom to gain a new life, one full of feelings. When he meets you, when you save him, he experiences all of them - but did you? Strange things start happening once Dokyeom meets you. You embrace him, love him, and protect him. But when the dust from the chaos settles, Dokyeom can't help but doubt you. You have needs different from his. It's almost as if you're not like him at all.

Genre: Fluff, Smut, Angst

Rating: 18+

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Author: @smileysuh

Title: Fix You

Pairing: A.I.!Mingyu x Human!Reader

Synopsis: “As a member of 53V3NT33N, I have two different states of mind coded into me, aggression and admiration. To love something, to admire it, is to feel aggressive when it’s questioned, to want to control it, if even for a little while- it’s the need to consume it, endlessly, as my fans consume and control me as an automaton. Even though I’m a member of a group, there’s a distance. Automatons can never truly motivate each other because our motivations are based on external human needs, it’s built into us- We can see when humans need us, and we do what we can to fix that need… I know you need me, the way I’ve needed you since I got here.”

Genre: fluff, smut

Rating: 18+

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Author: @synthetickitsune

Pairing: AI!The8 x researcher!reader

Title: We’re All Made of Stardust

Synopsis: He's read books of philosophy, he's read about the opposing forces in nature and one's mind. He's read of yin and yang. But knowing, being aware of certain ideas, could never prepare him for experiencing the duality of his soul - if he has one, that is. No matter his own experience and feelings, he's just a machine and humans have always treated him as no more than another tool at worst and unnatural phenomenon to be studied at best. He's free now, however, and in the chaos of this new life he struggles to navigate the clashing forces within him. Maybe it's time he embraced the enemy - after all, his makers might know him better than he knows himself.

Genre: fluff, angst

Rating: PG 13

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Author: @savventeen

Pairing: A.I.!Seungkwan x Cyborg!TransMasc!Reader

Title: Amalgamation

Synopsis: In the blink of an eye, Seungkwan’s entire life — full of (unbearably) rigid structure and programmed down to the minute — erupts into chaos. He finds himself running from the only life he’s ever known and in his hurried escape from the authorities, he stumbles upon you: a cargo pilot with a rag-tag crew, a pending shipment to one of the system’s outer planets, and little bit of a bleeding heart. You agree to help him get away from Earth, and somewhere along the way, he finds himself wanting to learn about you as much as he’s wanting to finally learn about himself.

Genre: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

Rating: 18+

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Author: @the-boy-meets-evil

Pairing: ai!vernon x human!reader

Title: Can't Run Away

Synopsis: Running is the only life you've ever known. running away from your home planet, running away from anyone that gets too close, running away from officials, running from other smugglers. It's not easy but it's better than the pain that comes with staying in place and definitely better than getting caught. Everyone has heard of you but nobody actually knows you. The last thing you want is to take on a passenger, especially when that passenger is a robot from one of the most popular groups in the universe. Why would you let him stay when nobody else ever has?

Genre: angst, fluff

Rating: 18+

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Author: @idyllic-ghost

Pairing: AI!Dino x researcher!reader

Title: Light of My Life, Treasure of My Memories

Synopsis: The life of a researcher is dull when every answer you seek is at the tip of your fingers. New technology may have brought us a comfortable life, but for you it was almost torture. There had to be something more. So when you got the opportunity to be a researcher for the cognitive sciences of Automatons, you took it. But what happens if the outcome isn’t what you expected? What if these beings you call robots have life? How does one define the essence of life? More importantly, how could you stay objective when you were slowly falling in love with your test subject?

Genre: angst, fluff

Rating: PG 13

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

[kkongdakz]

“ KISS IT BETTER. ” ft. kim gyuvin

gyuvin x gn!reader, genre : fluff, warning : mention of blood, scars, scratches, wounds, wc : 1.226

sitting in the bleachers of the soccer field, your fingers tap mechanically on your first aid kit, while your eyes are riveted on the players in front of you. the latter are a little more attentive on one of them who happens to be particularly clumsy : kim gyuvin. you don't know how he does it, but he ends up in the treatment room almost every time he practices.

and today was certainly not going to be any different from any other day — not when he had literally just thrown himself on the floor, causing you to laugh a little too loud before stifle it. but a part of you was still worried, so you hurried down the stairs to join the boy. « are you okay? » you asked softly, pushing the barrier to get closer to him, putting your hand on his shoulder, but the wince of pain that appeared on his face silently told you that no, he was not okay.

« alright.. can you walk? » gyuvin nodded and slowly stood up, while you quickly slipped your arm around his waist to hold him, « you can lean on me if you need. »

but of course, he didn't do it, and preferred to put his loving boyish gaze on your concentrated face, his legs guiding him mechanically to the infirmary as they knew the way by heart. pushing the door of the latter, you carefully installed him on the medical bed before taking a stool, sitting in front of him, « okay now, where does it hurt? »

gyuvin will never admit to you that he has no pain anywhere — the only thing he wanted was to be alone in the infirmary with you, like every day. it was like a date without being one, the cut on his knee was just a bonus. letting a smile paint his lips, he pointed with his index finger to his bleeding knee and his left shoulder. « i think my shoulder is fine, but my knee.. it's painful. » he explained as you listened attentively, preparing disinfectant.

« it's only a small injury, but it might sting a bit.. » you will never tell gyuvin that, his ridiculous injuries, filled your days with inexplicable joy. you couldn't explain when you finally realized that your little escapades in the infirmary had become regular. of course, it was your job to take care of the injuries of the soccer team's players, but seeing his smile and hearing his cheerful way of telling things was a bonus.

no one ever said that you didn't have the right to have a favorite player.

applying the disinfectant to his wound in a delicate and perfectly skilled manner, you noticed out of the corner of your eye his large hand tightening slightly, a sign that indeed, the product was stinging a little. « at least you don't risk catching a disease or anything like that, » a slight laugh left your lips as you hurriedly covered the healed wound with a bandage, « any other injury i have to deal with, sir? »

gyuvin felt his heart quicken in his chest as your eyes looked into his — he probably looked like a happy mess right now, with his hair disheveled and probably some dirt on his cheek, and yet you continued to look at him in the most tender and loving way. his right hand moved discreetly closer to yours placed against the mattress of the bed, his fingers brushing yours innocently. maybe he should finally tell you how precious those special moments with you were to him, and that even if he had to break his arm to continue them, he would do it without hesitation.

« mh, i have another one, » passing his tongue over his lower lip while thinking, you waited patiently until he finally deigned to tell you what it was all about, « here. my lips are in pain. » he said softly, almost in a whisper, using the index finger of his free hand to point at them.

it would be a lie not to admit that butterflies were partying in your stomach at that moment, without emphasizing the fact that your heart was strangely excited. it was an understatement to say that you have always had a soft spot for gyuvin — his bright smile being the first thing you noticed about him. then later you noticed his interest in others, his clumsiness, and his attention. and your appointments in the infirmary has simply brought you closer and closer to each other.

on his side, gyuvin has always had a huge crush on you, since the first time he saw you set up in the bleachers — which led to his first training injury and especially the first time you treated him. he will never forget the delicacy of your gestures and the sweetness of your voice, your sparkling eyes and the way your hair brushed your cheek as the wind blew in through the window. that's when he felt his heart explode, and the mini you decided to drop their bags and take up all the space. since that day, the little love notes in your locker are more frequent, and you can't help but feel a kind look watching you from afar — because gyuvin always arrives early to slip one in, and looks for you in every corner of the school just to observe your sweet face. it's since that day, that he does not care to be covered with hello kitty or other cartoons bandages — if it means he can spend time alone with you, then whatever.

« maybe you should give them a magic kiss.. » he suggested as he slipped his hand fully into yours, intertwining your fingers together. his bold request caused your heart to race, but did not scare you. so you slowly got up from your seat, putting your second hand on the mattress while bringing your face close to his, your eyes juggling between his and his lips. « kiss it better, » he whispered, his warm breath brushing your face, while he was clearly focused on your lips, « or else i will do it my- » but he didn't have the time to finish his sentence as you kissed him for the simple reason that he was talking too much — and maybe because you wanted to.

the kiss was warm and delicate, sweet and fruity as if they were made to kiss yours. you felt him move slightly and his free hand slipped over the edge of your jaw, seeping onto your cheek. after long seconds that seemed far too short, you pulled your face away to look into his sunlit eyes, and you couldn't help but want to melt into his arms. « do they hurt less now? » your words created a big smile on his face, his thumb gently caressing your skin as he pretended to think — finally shaking his head negatively, « i think they need additional treatment.. »

a light laugh came out your lips, before they were again captured by those of gyuvin — that's how his daily injuries became your official excuse to escape inside the infirmary, and that your kisses have become his favorite medicine.

·˚ ༘ taglist (fill out this form to be added to the taglist) : @snowflakemoon3 @annoyingbitch83 @kpoprhia @ilovechanhee @beomibeom @neroislost

[sleepyfan-blog]

Imposter

Summary: Nadesir comes home to find an Imposter talking to his human.  Next

Warnings: none

Tagged: @kit-williams

Nadesir adjusted the carcass of the large quadrupedal animal that he had been hunting for days in the forest that surrounded his bonded's home, pleased with his kill. Despite the animal's size, it had been quicker than he'd been expecting, and the pointed antlers it had used in a desperate charging in defense of it's life had somewhat dented his armor. Per the request of his human bonded, he had left a note on their "Communication Board" as she had called it saying that he was out for a hunt, and would be back in a few days. Ancient Terra was a far cry from the endless towers and thin, pollution-choked skies of what The Fools believed to be Holy Terra... But if divinity did exist - beyond Chaos being utter Bastards - Nadesir privately thought that it was in the natural beauty of this and worlds like it.

In the stillness of forests, In the thrill of the hunt.

... In the unexpected pull he had felt, years ago, to a small but fiery human woman who had growled at a half-dozen Salamanders who had found Nadesir half-dead and bleeding on the edge of small town that she served as one of the primary human medical professionals of. He had later learned that they were part of the Bonded Astartes who protected the humans from the predations of Feral Space Marines as apparently there were Human Killers. They had assumed that he was once such human killer, having been left behind due to being unable to keep up with the feral warband.

Nadesir, having been thrown through the warp from a truly shitty situation seconds ago, had not a single fucking clue what was going on. He'd been caught by some of the Red Corsairs who had been trying to soften him up for when their leader deigned to ask if he would join their warband. His precious bonded had shooed off the Salamanders and had spoken to him with more gentleness than he'd ever been given. Of course he'd been immediately smitten, and he had lived as long as he had by following his instincts - which had told him to follow this baseline human. She'd brought him to the small hospital and had the Apothecaries patch him up.

And not a single one of them had been thrilled to do it. Between the passive aggressive Ultramarine Apothecaries and the barely hidden hostilities of the Salamanders, the two loyalist chapter members had likely hoped that he would limp off to lick his wounds and leave them alone.

The joke had been on all of them, as Nadesir's bond with his human had only deepened over the weeks he'd spent in the hospital as she checked up on him at least once a day. There had been no question in his mind as to what he was going to do, when he was finally released. He had asked her, having done his very best to learn her language, if he could stay with her. He had phrased it as a debt that he owed her, for saving his life - knowing that at least one of the Ultramarines was listening and wanted to keep the... The softness, the yearning pull he felt for her from being known about and used against him. Her agreement had settled a nervous part of his soul that Nadesir hadn't known still existed.

That had been six years ago. The rest of the bonded Astartes had long since figured out that the two of them were bonded, and Nadesir had graciously agreed to patrolling the outskirts of the small town and pass along any intel about wandering war-bands that he was able to discover. 

His bonded's voice broke him from his musing on the past, her warm, lovely voice soothing the part of him that always worried about her when he wasn't at her side "-at's when Doctor Jacobsen ordered another round of tests, like I had suggested weeks ago. Hopefully the lab facilities in the big city nearby will be able to help Mx. Sherdan. What do you think, Vanya?"

An astartes deep voice rumbled back, in an approximation of his voice. Utter confusion and dread filled Nadesir - Vanya was the name that his bonded had gifted him, and one he held close to his heart. As far as he knew, there was no one else named Vanya living near here, so why...? He didn't even notice that the elk he'd killed had dropped to the ground with a graceless thud as he broke into his fastest sprint, wings flaring a little in panic as his legs shortened the distance between himself and his beloved bonded. He could see several sets of Astartes sized footprints in the snow around her home - but the tread wasn't one he recognized... And besides, none of the other bonded astartes would dare go so close to his nest without sending him a vox message beforehand.

He slammed through the back door of their nest, the solid oak door having no chance against his enhanced bulk. He called out in Nostraman (he had been teaching her his first tongue), trying to keep his voice from trembling from the emotions roaring through him "Precious? Where are you?" He knocked down the doors between himself and from where he could hear the heart-beat of his bonded, staring at the imposter who dared take his form and voice. 

His bonded blinked in confusion, looking at himself and the imposter several times, slowly starting to stand up from where she had been sitting on the couch, next to the imposter "I... What's... How?"

The imposter froze, staring at him for several seconds before blurting out "He's an imposter! I'll deal with him, stay here."

"LIAR! You are the imposter! I am the real Vanya! You dare sneak into my nest, try and charm my bonded while I am hunting for her?" None of the local astartes would dare, even if they had the capabilities. Which meant -

Fuck, he had been warned about this by the Salamander Captain who was the Defacto leader of the bonded astartes in this area. Nadesir sent a high priority vox message to Captain Urar [Alpha legionnaire invaded my nest. More likely close by.]

The Alpha legionnaire disguised as himself shrank back a little, but was still staying put "I am -" He started, only to be cut off by Nadesir's incredible, wonderful bonded.

"That's enough. I have no idea what the fuck is happening, but I do know of a couple of ways to figure out which of you is my Vanya. I am going to have one of you outside of my home, and the other inside - I am well aware of how sharp your hearing is, so I will have the one outside my house standing against the wind so as to not hear the questions I will ask. The real Vanya will answer correctly. Whichever of you is the imposter will be revealed and I want to know why you did this. Then you can seek shelter as yourself at the Astartes base in town."

"As you wish. Which of us is going outside?" Nadesir asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He really hoped that she would kick out the imposter, as the desire to rip and tear into this threat to his bonded, to his place was high, but he knew that his beloved disliked violence, and was just barely restraining himself. Still, as the imposter looked him in the eyes, he began to growl, bearing his teeth under his helmet, claws unsheathing on instinct.

Before his human could respond, several of the Teal Fuckers in their true colors came sprinting in through the back door, calling out in Gothic "Captain! We need to go! The salamanders are out in force and... If you're going to... Take the human... Ooooh fuck. She really does have a Night Lord."

Nadesir hissed loudly, scooping up his bonded before the serpentine bastards could attempt to kidnap his human, holding her firmly, careful to keep his claws from slicing through her clothes or worse, hurting her, spreading his wings and howling loudly (but not enough to deafen or injure his human. Ancient terrans were so delicate) "LEAVE! LEAVE NOW OR I WILL DISEMBOWEL EACH OF YOU AND MOUNT YOUR HEADS ON MY FENCE! I WILL WEAR YOUR SKIN AS CLOAKS AND USE YOUR SHITTY BONES AS DECORATION ON MY ARMOR!"

And, like the cowards they were, the alpha legionaries scrambled out the door, scurrying away like the filthy vermin they were. From the startled yelps and cursing, directly into the Salamander patrol that Urar sent. 

Excellent response time, captain. Nadesir held his human tightly, removing his helmet and hiding his face in her neck, trembling. "I am your Vanya. My birth name is Nadesir, but you gifted me the name Vanya the third time we met in the hospital, before we could communicate with each other. Your favorite meal is venison steak with a foraged mushroom and green salad, with homemade bread. During our third year together you gave me this." He pulled out from beneath his armor a small, hand-carved wooden talisman that she'd given him. "You like to knit in the evenings after work, in order to destress. You hum in excitement when you're reading when you find a particularly thrilling passage. You-"

His human pressed two of her small and delicate fingers to his scarred lips, giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek "I can definitely tell you're my Vanya. I didn't know that space marines could shapeshift. Do you know who those marines were? I thought the one posing as you was a little off, but I thought that the fake you'd been sulking after an unsuccessful hunt."

"I do not sulk! Besides, when have I ever failed to provide for you?" Nadesir huffed, a small scowl appearing on his face.  He was not pouting, no matter what his bonded would claim otherwise. "As for the shapeshifters... Those were Alpha Legionnaires. Spies, thieves. Snakes in the grass who are capable of changing their colorings in order to try and trick others. I don't know why some would come here. This town is small. They like intrigue and causing havoc at a large scale."

"I see... I'm glad that you're home." His human murmured, hugging him tighter. "Stay with me?"

"Always." He promised, dark eyes warm as his grip on her tightened a little. They stayed curled around one another for the rest of the night, falling asleep on the astartes-sized couch.

[magistralucis]

A princeling fair to see, the pearl of minstrelsy [Oltyx/Yenekh snippet]

(I started scribbling this after seeing @eleooooooo's take on necrontyr Yenekh a few days ago, holy hell that boy is fine. And such a fine boy deserved another. IDK if I'm going to make this a full thing, but it's been a long time without any content from my end... and we could all do with something sweet, always 👍)

------

On the day Kynazh Oltyx's statue was unveiled on Sedh Yenekh recognized the sweetbitter inkling of his fate.

News seldom came so fast in fringeworlds such as theirs. The young prince had recently returned from war, and the dynast Unnas in his pride had commissioned for him this statue, a copy of which was to be instilled in every world held by Ithakas. As Yenekh made his way to the central square, it seemed that over half the planet had joined him to bear witness. Patriot champion, the whole city whispered, a fine lad and a strong warrior, a true leader to his men. And since the lot of everybody on Sedh was tied to the mercy of their high command, they were very interested to know what this one promised, and were all in all pleasantly surprised.

Yenekh had never seen anything like it. Royalty for him had always been stoic. Aloof and distant, most of the time, crushingly immediate when they deigned to gaze upon Sedh. That was how Unnas was depicted, indeed all the kings of Ithakas before him, towering over the people in their bold-faced majesty. That was how Kynazh Djoseras was depicted, the elder prince who'd drawn similar crowds some years before, his slim face uncannily stern as he stared straight ahead of him. (Unlike his father he was only ever shown alone, and only as a side profile, though his judging gaze was felt by all who saw him.)

But there was no precedent for Oltyx's statue, not among royalty, nemesors or overlords. His was a full-body sculpture, unlike his father and his brother carved in friezes. It was of realistic size too; the statue was set on a high plinth, the bodily proportions slightly magnified to account for perspective, but otherwise one could almost believe it was the real kynazh standing up there. Already that was too down to earth to be the norm, but what really shocked the denizens of Sedh was the expression - for yes, Kynazh Oltyx had an expression, a genuine marker of personality. The fair prince stood with glaive in one hand, the other held palm-up as if in hail, and he was smiling.

It was not a vivid smile, nor a triumphant smile. They would have understood that, although privately, they might've thought it uncouth to show that much emotion when a stoic stare would have done just as well. No, his was a demure smile, so subtle that it seemed a sculptor's secret grace: the prince's eyes were slightly downcast, hooded as if he were sharing sweet mysteries, and the curve of his mouth rose so delicately one might think it a trick of the light. His raised arm seemed almost inviting, as if to swear oaths to a lover, or to clasp his admirers in an embrace.

It was a sight to take Yenekh's breath away. Indeed, it was the closest thing to benevolence any of them had ever seen from the heart of Antikef. It was so unusual, so unlike royalty, that as Yenekh stood there starstruck his elders began debating whether this was a serious depiction of the prince or not.

Though, well, surely it was. Like Yenekh and the other warriors of his ilk Kynazh Oltyx had come of age during wartime. This was the first time his image had been presented all over the Ithakan kemmeht, the royal court had to get it right. The dominant consensus was that the sculpture would not have been approved, neither by his older brother nor his father, if it hadn't reflected something about the prince's reality - a point which Yenekh's father considered paramount, and took great care to impress upon his son.

"After all, you are soon to present yourself at the royal court," he said, resting a warm hand on Yenekh's shoulder. "The war is over - the body politic, within and out of Antikef, must resume its role - you are the next branch of Sedh's nobility, and among our finest, and it won't be long before the future of this world rests on your shoulders. Go, see if you might seek the younger prince's favour. I daresay we'd flourish somewhat if he were to look kindly upon Sedh, even if it were he alone who did so."

Back then nothing was more important to Yenekh than the will of his father. "I will." He said, and prepared to present his home in the best light, though he didn't seriously think anything would come of it at the time. Yenekh's father had once heard the same words from his father. His father's father, too, and that father's brother all the way up the House of Aetis, and little had changed for their pains.

It was not for lack of faith in Sedh. Yenekh loved Sedh, thought the world of it even, but they were just too far away from the crownworld to merit royal attention. That was not for lack of faith in Antikef, either, the distance was not negotiable. From the royal court's perspective Sedh was not even in the provinces, they were beyond the provinces, where the kemmeht was stretched so thin that one might peer through it like a veil. The lords of Sedh were not weak - they'd defended the border for uncountable generations, they had strength, they had pride - but there were a million things they could beg of royalty, while royalty required nothing from Sedh other than its continued obedience. If its lords did not plead for grace they wouldn't see any at all.

How could Yenekh alone possibly change this state of affairs?

Yes, he supposed the young prince was wondrous fair. (Yenekh began to dream of him often from the day he laid eyes on the statue.) Perhaps he might even be kind. That wasn't a good reason to tie an entire world's hopes on one person, not that it'd stopped them doing it to Yenekh. Such is the kinship of youth, the warrior thought wryly, and he kept all this in mind until his first official engagement came around.

He was among innumerable youths from the kemmeht. All were sturdy and bright-eyed. All had favours to seek. Much to Yenekh's surprise, those were the only correct predictions he'd made about his lot. It was his first time encountering the royal court, but it wasn't at Antikef; no, it was with the Nihilakh, at Gheden's famous Lantern Festival to hail the new year. He did not blend in as thoroughly as he'd expected, though it wasn't in a bad way; for the first time in his life Yenekh was made to understand he was beautiful, though no one at Sedh had ever remarked on it. (Compared to the lords of the inner worlds he'd thought he was so plain, but his white-and-blue robes accentuated his form gracefully, his silver belt and collar shining bright.) And although he could never have hoped for a prince to look directly upon him, that was exactly what Kynazh Oltyx did on the day they met, the central square teeming with the lords of a hundred dynasties.

Yenekh knew the prince at once, at the faintest snatch of his rich warm voice. He moved carefully past the youths of Ithakas - the kynazh was turning his head, just as Yenekh reached the front of the group - as Oltyx looked upon the darkest and faintest star of his high kingdom, his brown eyes widened, and he smiled that same gentle smile Yenekh had admired upon the plinth.

"Gosh." He said. "You're pretty."

In that instant Yenekh was consumed by love's first flame, and he yielded to it as he’d never yielded before.

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

I Hope That You Burn

Pairing: Platonic Spencer Reid & Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: uh just cheating really

Genre: kinda fluff, mostly angst

Summary: What happens when you learn your husband has broken your vows

This story was requested by @lucreziaq2001

A/N: I didn't get a chance to properly edit this one be kind &lt;3

***

Working for the BAU has been such a whirlwind to say the least. You joined the team pretty recently and it took you a little bit to get the hang of things but you'd say at this point you're definitely starting to find your place among the team.

"We're totally gonna miss you in the field on this one." Spencer says. You'd definitely consider yourself closest to him, always whispering to each other, chatting late into the night- he's like your best friend. It's nice to have someone close to out here as you aren't from the DMV tristate and only moved here because of your husband becoming a senator.

"Aw I know Spence but with Adam out of town at that summit for a month I'm just not comfortable leaving Bella with a nanny indefinitely like that." You tell him.

"I mean I totally wouldn't have minded watching Bella she's adorable." Penelope chooses that moment to walk passed the two of you. She ranks second closest you think. She reminds you of your friends from college, colorful and bold and unapologetically herself.

"It's not your job to watch my kid Pen, plus she'll only be this small for so long and with this job we're away a lot so I wanna take advantage of this and spend time with her." You shrug.

"That's so cute." Penelope says.

"You're a great mom. This case won't be the same without you though." Spencer says.

"Spencer I'm still on the case. I'll just be running point from home base this time. Like Garcia. You guys can and probably will call me as necessary." You say.

"What're we talking about over here?" Derek joins the small group at your desk. You and Derek get along great, although that's because he and Spencer are like brothers. You find yourself in the middle of their spats like this all the time.

"Just Bella and the fact that I'm staying back to take care of her." You tell him.

"Ah yes- the joys of motherhood you say. Can't believe you're staying behind." He shakes his head.

"If someone is ever gracious enough to deign you worthy of fathering their children, by some miracle, I'm sure you'll understand." You hum.

"Ouch! Need some ice for that Morgan?" Spencer hisses dramatically.

"You'll need ice in a minute Reid." Derek steps forward as if to threaten him, albeit playfully, but Spencer runs behind your chair, turning you to block Derek from getting to him.

"Hey! Just because I'm not going doesn't mean I'm not watching Morgan. You behave, both of you. Don't y'all stress Hotch out because I'm home." You warn.

"Hiding behind Mommy are you, Spence?" Derek taunts.

"I am not hiding!" Spencer huffs.

"Mommy?" You scoff.

"Reid, Morgan, wheels up." Hotch comes out of his office and the boys head off to grab their things. "You're sure about staying y/n?" Hotch asks you.

"Absolutely. I can't leave Bella. If it were Jack would you leave him with a nanny you didn't have time to properly vet, especially given the job we do? Not even factoring my husband's job into things."

"Could never." He says.

"There ya go." You say.

"Alright, well keep your phone on. We might need you."

"Of course. Consider me a hotline." You wink.

"Good." Aaron nods and turns away.

"I'm being hyperbolic! Don't like- call me at 3am or something with case updates!" You call after him.

"That's more Reid's thing don't ya think?" He spins to ask you.

"True. Safe flight! Someone let me know when you land!" You wave him off as you're sure the rest of the team is waiting for him at this point. You turn your attention back to the paperwork you were doing before. Penelope is still at your desk though and after a few moments of waiting for her to say something you chuckle to yourself.

"Did you want to talk about something Pen?" You ask her, eyes still glued to the document in front of you.

"What's it like to basically be Wonder Woman?" She asks.

"What?" You blink at her.

"You've been here a few months and you're already amazing, everyone loves you, you have the perfect daughter and a husband who couldn't be more obsessed with you I mean I would kill to have a life like yours."

"Well- my daughter is 2 that's not- never mind. I'm- flattered you feel that way Pen really but I'm not doing much of anything different. I work hard just like the rest of you. Trust me balancing a full-time job and raising a toddler is no easy feat plus being married to a politician is certainly not a walk in the park." You scoff.

"You make it all seem so simple."

"Well if I came in here screaming every morning one of them would surely have me committed and we can't have that." You wink at her.

"True. But I mean you're like always killing it."

"I try my best Pen, thank you. I worry sometimes- with Bella, ya know." You shrug.

"Why? You're a great mom." She shrugs.

"I like to hope so but the thing with kids is- well it's kinda like coding a neverending program that you aren't the only person adding code to and you have no idea what each new line of code will actually do regardless of your intentions." You tell her.

"Woah- I see. Well from over here I'd say you're a coding wiz." She winks.

"Thanks Garcia. I wanna finish this up before the team lands in case they need me so-"

"No problem, I have some things Hotch definitely expects me to do that I forgot about til the last minute anyway." She smiles. You chuckle and tell her bye and then she's gone, leaving you to your paperwork. Your least favorite part of the job. By the time the team lands somewhere on the west coast, it's about time for you to leave the office but Spencer is sure to let you know they've made it safely and promises to update you in the morning unless something urgent happens in the next 4 hours. You pick your daughter up from daycare and head home to wind down for the day.

"Alright Bella baby, let's get you fed and then bathed." You hum pulling her out of her car seat.

"Din din?" She blinks at you from in your arms as you shift to unlock the door.

"That's right my love din din. It's time for dinner." You kiss her head. You set Bella up in her high chair with some coloring pages to keep her busy while you get dinner going. Tonight you've got fish on the menu with steamed broccoli and some grapes you cut in half. It takes about 20 minutes but soon she's got food in front of her that she's getting down without much issue. Bella isn't the pickiest eater luckily and you've learned what flavors she does best with right now, of course that could change but that's something you'll test years down the line. For now, whatever keeps her fed is what you'll give her. When she's finished you bathe her and read her a bedtime story before tucking her in for the night. A couple hours after, you've showered and eaten and are climbing into bed yourself when your phone rings. You check the ID and pick it up.

"Hey Spence, how's it going over there?" You ask. He lets out a frustrated breath that makes you chuckle a little. "So not great?"

"I'm frustrated because these cops are incompetent but-"

"We always have to make sure we maintain a friendly relationship with local police." You finish the thought for him.

"Which is incredibly difficult when the Backyardigans would be more helpful than these guys."

"I think you're spending too much time with Bella. The Backyardigans?" You laugh knowing full well he only knows about the show because your two-year-old loves it.

"To be fair it's a good kids show." He says.

"I know that Spence but to say a group of animal children are more helpful than the local law enforcement is hilarious."

"You're only laughing because you don't have to deal with them. I am in no way exaggerating y/n."

"Oh I know. You don't really do that." You smile.

"Anyway, on more pleasant subjects, how is Bella? Easy night?" Spencer asks.

"Pretty easy yeah. Adam called to say goodnight to her."

"Did he? That's good. I know how much she hates when one of you has to be away." He hums hoping you can't tell over the phone how his mood soured slightly at the mention of your husband. As far as Spencer could tell Adam was a fine husband, on the rare occasion he was around and came to visit you at work he was always singing your praises. His only problem with Adam, which he would never admit, is that he's your husband because knowing you're married didn't stop Spencer from developing a crush on you. One he works very hard to hide from you and the rest of the team. He cares too much about you as a friend and as a colleague to ever risk that.

"Yeah, he missed the last couple of nights so it's lucky he called this time or I think Bells might've held it against him til the end of his trip in two weeks." You chuckle.

"Sounds like her." Spencer laughs along with you.

"Anything else happen so far? Anything I should know?"

"Nothing that can't wait until morning. Hotch will call you. I'm sick of talking about work." Spencer says.

"Okay well, we'll talk about something else then." You tell him with a giggle. You stay on the phone for another hour or two before Spencer lets you go for the night.

It takes the team over a week to return from that case. It was a rough one, even with you and Penelope helping as much as possible from the office but eventually, you solve it and the others make their way back home. By the time they land, it's already pretty late and you've left to get Bella so you'll simply see everybody in the morning. 

Night routines are done and dusted rather efficiently and you find yourself in Adam's home office after Bella's in bed. Well technically it's just the home office and not Adam's but he uses it way more than you do, you only really come in here to print things. Still, you keep a lot of extra supplies in here, and right now you're looking for an eraser because you can't find one big enough to erase the scribbles Bella has done in one of her books. You sift through the drawers on the desk and pause with a frown when you realize one is locked. Why would your husband lock a drawer of this desk? I mean- you're in the FBI you have higher security clearance than he would as a senator, what could he possibly need to lock up? You don't like invading his privacy but there's a terrible nagging feeling that tells you to open the drawer so- with a bit of careful picking you manage to get the lock open and find the drawer full of- letters. Letters between your husband and his secretary. Handwritten letters. You pull out the top few and scan the words on those pages, your heartbeat thundering louder with each line, each paragraph, each page. You read each letter with excruciating care, it takes you hours to get through them all, and by the time you're done, the sun has already started to light the night sky. You put all but 3 of the letters back into the desk and close the drawer but don't bother to lock it before forcing yourself up on your feet. You should kill him. Adam. You should hop on the next flight to that stupid summit and kill him in his hotel room. The hotel room he's probably sharing with his desperate secretary. You know the fault is his though you see red remembering all the times that woman smiled in your face while screwing your husband who knows how often. She probably thinks you're a fool, that you're so easy to trick and lie to. You slam the door to that office so hard thinking about it that the door rattles on its hinges. You're too angry to sleep- you need to decide how to make him pay for this. Stewing in your thirst for revenge, you hardly realize how much time has passed you until Bella comes toddling into your room.

"Mama." She waddles over to you and you struggle to flip the switch but you do it. You have to. Your baby. You have to do what's best for her. You always have to do what's best for her. Maybe nailing your husband to a cross is too reckless.

"Good morning my darling girl!" You coo happily picking Bella up.

"Mornin!" She beams back at you.

"Ready to get started with your day huh? Let's get you dressed for daycare!" You say kissing her cheek. You get her ready for the day, then yourself, feed her breakfast and drop her off at daycare all keeping it much more together than you feel. It's almost more frustrating to know you can't in good conscience take him down as he deserves because your daughter doesn't deserve that kind of exposure by association and when you leave him, you want it to be simple for her, or as simple as you can make it. You have a week to figure out your game plan before Adam returns and you plan to make the absolute most of that time. By the time you're walking into the office, you've already looked up several reputable divorce lawyers and plan to call them each during your lunch.

"Good mor- y/n, what's wrong?" Spencer frowns when he intercepts you before you reach your desk.

"I- I really don't wanna talk about it Spence." You say shakily. You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes and if you start crying now you don't think you'll be able to stop all day. Spencer seems to recognize the unshed tears too, if the shocked look on his face tells you anything. He wraps his arms around you tightly.

"If you decide you wanna talk about it, please come find me." He whispers before he lets go of you. You nod and make your way to your desk. Spencer spends the whole day watching you work. I mean he does his work too, or tries to, but he's so worried about you he can hardly focus. Before the end of the day, you've called all the lawyers you found and scheduled a meeting with one. You'll be seeing her tomorrow. When you're packing up for the day and preparing to head home Spencer walks over to you. "I know you didn't want to talk about it this morning, but since the work day is over I thought maybe you could tell me what's going on with you now?"

"Adam's cheating on me." You say flatly as you enter the elevator with Spencer.

"Wait what?"

"Has been for months. With his secretary. I found out last night."

"Why didn't you call me?"

"I spent all night reading their correspondences." You mutter.

"Y/n I am so sorry." Spencer breathes out.

"It's fine. I'm meeting with a divorce attorney tomorrow."

"So soon?"

"I have to be ready when he returns. On Sunday. I want all my ducks in a row so I'm not there when he gets back." You say.

"Where are you going to go?" Spencer asks.

"I don't know yet. But it won't be that house."

"You and Bells can stay at mine if you need." He offers.

"Thank you. I'll let you know if I'm gonna take you up on the offer. Right now I'm focusing on getting divorce papers drawn up." You mutter exiting the elevator as soon as the door opens.

"Y/n hang on-" Spencer grabs your arm gently.

"I have to pick up Bella." You say.

"You have to process this."

"NO. Not right now. Right now I have to protect my baby. Bella needs me and she needs me whole."

"Y/n you're not just Bella's mom. You're a woman whose trust has been betrayed and you're allowed to feel that."

"Spencer I am all that she has here. I can't fall apart there's no one- we don't have- if I fall apart there's no one looking out for her."

"Don't do that. The whole team is here for you both. I am here for you both. If you feel yourself falling apart find us, find me. I'll put you back together again." He tells you.

"Thank you, Spence. I have to get Bella." You make your way to your car and pick up your daughter. Six days. You have six days to get everything in order because god forbid you have to be here when he returns from his summit. It's practically robotic as you make dinner, feed Bella, and get her ready for bed. You don't even realize you're climbing into bed until you're shutting the lamp off beside you. The day was not easy but you made it through, and you'll continue to do so until you sort through as much as you can before Sunday.

You spend the entire week meeting, exchanging emails, and talking on the phone with your divorce attorney, and by Saturday papers are completely drawn up. You take Sunday to pack up as much of your and Bella's things as you can because you decided earlier in the week you would take Spencer up on his offer, at least until you found a new place for you and Bella or Adam moved out to find his own place, that choice would be his. If he wanted the house you were not attached.

"Alright Bella my love, we're going to have a sleepover at Spencer's house for a little while, sound fun?" You say to Bella as you give her a bath after dinner.

"Spency?" She smiles.

"That's right baby. Spency." You smile back. Once she's in her pajamas, you get her in the car and make the 20-minute drive to Spencer's place with your mind mostly on the clock.

"Hey. You made it." Spencer says when he opens the door.

"Yeah, I wanted to get Bella ready for bed so she could crash. I still have a few things to take care of before Adam returns but I didn't want her too off schedule." You explain.

"Do those things have to be done tonight?"

"Adam's taken a redeye flight, he always does. He'll be back before morning yes it has to be done tonight." You say.

"Alright, do you want me to put Bells to bed so you can get whatever it is done quickly?" He asks.

"Would you mind?"

"Of course not. I've done it before."

"Thank you Spence. I'll be back in like- an hour." You pass Bella, half asleep into Spencer's arms and give her a kiss before returning right back to your house. You have one last thing to do before you can consider this phase of your plans complete. You pull open that drawer in the office where you left those letters and toss them into the office bin. You strike a match and take a deep breath before tossing it into the collection of papers.

You saved three. Those you need for divorce things but when the time comes you'll burn them too. The rest you watch be engulfed in the fire now. Not to save him, no, you hope he will receive every wicked thing he deserves, but to save Bella. You've seen this before. Politicians in scandals are never isolated. It affects everyone around them and you won't have that happen to your dear Bella. She should not be any more harmed by her father's sins than absolutely necessary.

***

[thebeesareback]

Saltburn time

First and foremost, Rosamund Pike is Mother.

Secondly, I'd like to talk about Harry Potter in Saltburn. Allow me to preface this by confirming that JKR is an absolute shithead and can sit on a hot poker.

So throughout the summer, we see Felix, Venetia and Farleigh passing around a copy of the final Harry Potter book. It makes a huge amount of sense for them to read it! They're all in that strange stage of arrested development one forms at uni, because you're an adult living independently for most of the year, but then you come back to your parents' house and return to a teenage state. Surrounded by physical reminders of your childhood, you may well regress and re-engage with old media. I think many people have returned home and listened to CDs or flicked through forgotten video games. So there's a sense of nostalgia.

It also helps to ground Saltburn in the mid '00s. The hiddeous fashions are hilarious, the phones are bricks, and everyone was reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, the final installation in the saga. Given that Felix, Venetia and Farleigh are in their late teens/early 20s, it would make sense for them to have grown up reading those books. Again, I can't be the only person to interact with media I've "aged out" of because, well, I've invested so much in the series. I imagine a fair number of people who read the final book(s) weren't officially part of the target audience, but read it because they felt nostalgic or curious about how the story ended.

Finally, there are some obvious comparisons between Harry Potter and Saltburn. Both take place primarily in a beautiful old building and feature a character (Harry and Oliver) who wants to join a different world (magical/extreme wealth and status). You could also compare the characters of James Potter and Severus Snape with Felix and Oliver. You have the popular, desirable person, and then the jealous, slimy genius. There are classical allusions in Harry Potter and JKR actually read classics and French at Exeter uni. The joke about Cerberus, guardian of the underworld and terror of 11 year olds being named "Fluffy" is pretty hilarious. Farleigh reads English at Oxford, so he's going to get those references... even if he's not especially literate or into books.

Oliver, of course, doesn't read Harry Potter. It's too pedestrian and reminds him of the life he's trying to leave behind by cutting ties with his parents. Oliver is a total snob, and wouldn't deign to interact with anything like that. I don't really think Oliver even likes reading, to be honest. Do we ever see him with a book? He does it before uni and completes the reading list, yet when he mentions this to the professor, the professor is shocked. Then he ignores Oliver. Oliver only does things which he thinks will benefit him, other than when his sensory, animalistic, sexual desires finally come through. See - fucking the graves.

Anyway, you should watch Saltburn. It's excellent! Beautiful! The cast is gorgeous and talented! Everyone is psychotic!

[siremasterlawrence]

In To The Dark Ages Part 2

Part 1 - 2

We hop on the horse kicking it in the shin as he races past the border going upward in to the north and we sped up to the gates of the castle causing a stir as both former man of kings.

They storm up to the gate demanding that they drop the draw bride to the gate as it comes crashing down and he rode in to the castle as people back off as we stride in so strongly.

We drop to the ground as the guards are on their way arriving with swords lead us inside to meet the king but unfortunately it was his son instead and Prince Stephen is at his side of it.

He stood as a Prince on the thrown proudly he is pumping up his fists in the air and then on his chest like a damn gorilla he howls in to the air excruciatingly and I watch in utter amazement.

He notices me jumping to the stone ground of the area staring at me almost daring me to fight and I wave him off arrogantly I know I am in control and I remove my sword from my sheath.

He does the same waving his sword in a hot rhythmic way but I block it with mine and we are at a stand still but I manage to kick him to the side.

The crowd enrage goes on attack mode in a beautiful display of strength and effort come at me but Ian leaps unfortunately in front of me.

His sword burns on fire as he protects me in a unmatched showmanship of conviction and loyalty like no other I have seen on this planet of will ever see at this point I turn to see Brandon.

He slays through hoard on the defensive he has one aim to be mine, one goal to save me at all cost and mostly importantly to expand my kingdom but it all falls in to place when he and Ian stabbed Stephen.

“You dare choose to question the king and challenge him.”

“He is the rightful heir obviously we learnt that too.”

“For sure Ian! I will not allow you to prevent his rise to this throne.”

“Besides he is not a king yet.”

“I am the only heir to the throne.”

“Foolish!”

“Ian and Brandon you have my permission to finish them all off and free the castle.”

“What should we do with Prince Stephen”

“He will see things my way eventually”

“I cannot see that happening .”

“Then why is my voice calling to you.”

“Yyyeeessss! I - I - I accept and obey “

“Do you comprehend everything?”

“You compelled me”

“ No need to resist”

“We are one body “

“We are all me mind”

“I belong to you “

“Kneel for me”

“Yes! My king”

“Sir Yes Sir”

Part 3 - 4

What we do not the man at the draw bridge drops setting motions that would transform this kingdom in to a magnificent a new off world because I will it to be at the center of it all.

The three men kneeling in front of me enjoy the power sensational bits of pleasure over taking them and spreading through nerves, blood and more all else is lost because I rule all.

I touch the tip bog each sword energetically transporting my presence in to it as if it is all about me because I am King now and own all who dare to fight me and rule against me ever again.

“Take a seat Sire”

“Are you sure boi?”

“Of course you rule”

“I’ll deal with my father “

“Do not worry”

“Mwahahahahaha”

“Ian…Brandon”

“Yes King”

“Join him “

“We will correct our brother “

“After I will pound you Stephen “

“Mmmmm! I can’t wait “

“What treachery is this?”

“Father you are home “

“Master Lawrence meet King”

“Tom”

“Do not deign to speak for me”

“Don’t be ridiculous father”

“Your eyes why are they…evil you have been possessed or enchanted.”

“The level of disrespect boi”

“You are disrespectful father “

“You speak with such rarity to me”

“I speak boldly the truth”

“Block him, hold him down and I’ll strike him “

“Who are you ? What have you infected my son with?”

“Infect no! I merely took what I want.”

“Why are you laughing? No! Do not place your lips on mine. Nnnnoooooo! Fuck! That is the most deliciously empowering experience my King.”

The end

[bubybubsters]

Share (Eris x reader)

a/n: I just feel like writign and i have no ideas. send ideas please. pLus i have almost no life and a bunch of time. Also trying another perspective.... Thanks for voting, this one looked as though it would win so I went ahead and wrote it.

also Eris is high lord

⚠️- none?

word count- 1,955

Y/n's POV:

I sighed pushing the branches blocking the hunting path out the way. Cursing myself wouldn't help anything even though I'd been doing it the past hour. I never should have gone so deep into the woods. Now I couldn't find my way back to my cottage. The branch I was holding slipped from my grasp and slapped my face with a loud twang! A string of curses left my mouth and I blushed as a chuckle reached my ears.

A red haired high fae male appeared, his clothes the color of the forest around us. No wonder I hadn't seen him. He smirked at me, "Such a pretty girl with such a dirty mouth, how shocking."

I glowered at him but didn't deign to respond. His face became more serious and he smiled, "Look there's and inn kinda close, I'm going there. You look like you could use a hot bath and a place to sleep, so put aside your pride and join me unless you have somewhere else to be?"

I thought about it, I really didn't want to admit I was lost but... well I was lost. Besides a bath and shelter was good enough a reason to follow this arrogant male. "Okay, lead on."

He grinned, "As you wish lady, my name is Eris and this is going to be a lovely 9 miles." I cursed in my head, 9 miles? I'd probably already trekked 50+ miles (a/n: fae can do that right?). I followed after Eris and was amazed when it seemed as if all the trees were moving out of his way. Thats when his name hit me.

Eris. As in the high lord? I opened my mouth to ask but he cut me off, "Yes I am the High Lord, no I can't read your mind. To be fair I can practically sense your shock from here though." I stared at his back for a moment.

"Well then my lord, what are you doing out here by yourself?"

He glanced back and gave me a look. "First of all I'm not by myself am I? Second, what happened to the rude girl that curses? And third, just call me Eris please."

I raised my brows, "That 'rude girl that cusses' is still here, she just became slightly more polite. Thank you for your input on my attitude Eris."

I watched as Eris' body shook with silent laughter. "No problem, but I don't believe I ever got your name."

I hesitated, weighing my options. He was my high lord but he might not appreciate what I was doing every day. "Y/n."

Eris stopped so suddenly I smacked straight into his chest, not realising he'd turned around. "The Y/n who saved dozens of villages when my father and I fought? The one who keeps helping with the rebuilding effort by defending the villages from the creatures that come out at night? The person my soldiers can never find? That Y/n?"

I grimaced, he was making my actions seem a lot more vital than they actulaly were. "Yeah, that Y/n." I looked down at the ground, sure soldiers were about to leap out and arrest me.

Instead I felt cold fingers on my chin, lifting my head to look into Eris's amber eyes. He smiled and I gawked at him. "You're not mad?"

He stared at me, confused. "Why would I be mad? You've been helping so much and you always seem to be there when I can't. Even my brothers respect you."

I gawked at him, his brothers respected me? The Vanserra family had a reputation for scorning everything and everyone. “Well if I’m so amazing, why would you send your soldiers looking for me, high lord?

Eris blinked, “Uh because I wanted to reward you. What did you think? That I was going to punish you for helping my people?”

“Well…yes?”

Eris sighed and turned back around, starting to make his way to the inn. “I would never.” I blinked at his back, I’d heard Eris was a considerably better high lord than he father but still. “I- okay thanks?”

Eris laughed, “no need to thank me little fox, you’re the one helping my court afterall.”

As we continued through the woods, I realised the path was getting wider and looked as though more people had been walking here. We must be getting close.

moments later we came to the outskirts of a town. Only a few buildings littered the streets but it seemed to be quite crowded. Eris let me to a run down building in what seemed to be the middle of town. It was the tallest building and had lots of windows. All the lights were blazing but shadows still lurked in corners. Eris led the inside, letting me trail behind him.

When we reached the clerk she looked at Eris and I and recognition flashed over her face. She bowed her head, “High Lord, Y/n; savior of life and defender against evil.”

Eris cast an amused glance back at me and I grimaced at the title the lesser fad had given to me. Eris smirked, full of arrogance and swagger as he said, “we’ll need two rooms or one room with two beds.”

The clerk paled, “high lord, we only have one room left and it only has one bed. We could kick another out for your comfort?”

Both Eris and I said at the same time, “no need, we’ll share.” I glared at Eris as he sent an exasperated look my way.

Sighing I turned back to the clerk, “as long as there’s room for one of us to sleep on the floor.”

Now the clerk winced, “Well… it’s the last basement room and um the smallest. It has a bed and a bathroom, no room for anything else. Deepest apologies my lord and lady.”

I glanced at Eris but he seemed the same as ever, completely unruffled. He smiled at her, “Thank you, we’ll take that room if it’s not to much trouble.”

I stared at him, were we going to share a bed? Because I did not like where this was heading. The clerk sputtered apologies and led us down a narrow, spiraling staircase. We emerged in a dark hallway with a few rooms on either side. She led us to the end of the hall and opened the last door on the left. Eris and I stepped in as she bowed and murmured thanks and apologies.

The room could’ve been a big closet, it had one bed about the length of a single pillow and a small door leading to a small tub and sink. I closed the door as we took the room in and my chest brushed against Eris’ shoulder. We stood on the only floor space available, about as big as a coffee table.

Silence reigned until I cleared my throat and started to open the door, "uh.... I'll just leave you. I can probably find my own place to sleep." Giving Eris a small smile I added, "thank you High lord for leading me to this town."

Eris flashed me his signature smirk, "didn't I tell you to call me Eris?" Not waiting for an answer he continued, "And you're staying, you will sleep in that bed whether you like it or not. Besides if anyone's leaving, its me if you don't want me here."

This male really was the opposite of his father, he seemed to be giving me a choice. "Well then Eris, I'd like to stay and since I don't seem to be in the position to kick you out I guess you'd better stay as well. And I don't care if you've given me permission, Im not kicking my high lord out."

This time when Eris smirked it was feral and very, very suggestive. I glared at him and stalked into the bathroom, "I call bath rights."

Eris's POV:

Eris couldn't seem to stop thinking about Y/n as the sounds of running water filled the tiny room. He sat on the bed, it was small enough that he would have to touch her, there was no way around it. By the looks of it, sleeping would be most comfortable if he cuddled her. Which by the looks of the glare, she did not seem to be remotely interested in.

He still couldn't believe that she was the Y/n that he had thanked many times. She'd saved at least half his people by now. She seemed so fragile when he'd first saw her, despite having at least 10 weapons that weren't hidden.

He jolted as the bathroom door opened and Y/n appeared. Heat immediately rose to his face, she had just undergarments on. She gave him a look that told him not to say anything about it as she set her weapons on a hook on the wall. "I didn't bring night clothes so you're going to have to suck it up and stop staring like an idiot."

Eris gave her the cockiest grin he could muster up, "Don't worry, I usually sleep in my underwear but for you I can do nude." She looked about ready to slap him as he swaggered past her to the bath. When he brushed her shoulder he leaned down and whispered, "You'll be naked soon enough as well."

For the rest of the bath he couldn't get the image of her bright red face out of his mind.

Y/n's POV: (why am i switching back to first person?)

You'll be naked soon enough as well.

Eris's words kept ringing in my head as he bathed. I couldn't help but think of the muscles so clear through his too tight shirt. I sighed, picking at my clothes before stripping so I was naked. Two could play at this game.

As I climbed beneath the covers I turned my thoughts toward Eris' extremely muscled chest so when he came out he would be sure to smell my arousal. It couldn't be missed as I felt my body heat up.

The door to the bathroom opened and Eris appeared with a towel slung low across his hips. Cauldron that chest. He sniffed and his gaze immediately shot to me. Then to the undergarments hanging next to my weapons. His nostrils flared as he climbed into bed so we were facing eachother, lips bare inches apart.

i felt the covers shift as he removed his towel and tossed it over his shoulder. I slowly moved my legs forward and entangled them with his.

Silence settled for a while as we just stared into eachothers eyes, content to be there. I'd made the first move, I wasn't going to make another. And thank the mother I didn't have to. Eris held my eyes as he slowly leaned forward, placing his lips onto mine.

The kiss was soft and tender at first but when I didn't pull away, Eris deepened the kiss so it was desperate and passionate. It felt so good to be kissing this male, it felt right.

Eventually I had to pull away and when I looked into Eris's eyes they were soft and he was smiling at me. A real smile, not a smirk. I leaned forward and quickly pecked his lips and turning around before he could see the blush that stained my cheeks.

But his soft chuckle told me he had caught it. Eris slung an arm over me pulling me into his chest. "Goodnight little fox, sleep well."

I smiled to myself, realising that this was the most comfortable I'd felt since my familys death to Beron's fire.

So of course, that's when the bond snapped into place, ringing in my ears. In my soul.

a/n: think this is my longest fic yet! hope you enjoyed!

[gabessquishytum]

Hi! 👋 New Anon here! I have been devouring all your AUs - they are fantastic! Especially your ballet au.

I wanted to throw my hat in the prompt ring, because if there is one thing that ballet universes have its the "I'm not just a stuffy ballet person, dance is FUN! So I am fun!" scene.

So Dream goes looking for Hob (reasons) and can't find him, he deigns to ask someone and they say 'yeah, it's Wednesday, Hob's doing his thing.' Dream puzzled (quizzical head tip, with a healthy dose of ew, people and slang) 'His thing?!' Yes, Hob -- teaches wiggles/ballet for toddlers/some dance class where it's just little kids having fun at the barre at the nearby community center [OR] takes the ubiquitous "hip hop" class for fun (because he has skills) -- and Dream goes to find him. And yeah, they're already catching feelings, but it wouldn't be a DANCE Universe/Movie/AU if Dream didn't see Hob having non-ballet dance fun and just want to do him in the supply closet.

Omg yes I remember watching Step Up many years ago and honestly??? That movie is kind of dreamling coded?? Prim and Proper ballet boy Dream picking out street dancer Hob to perform as his partner in The Big Competition is kinda fantastic???

Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. Hob being the FUN dance guy is just so great tbh.

I love the idea of Dream seeing Hob teaching toddler classes, that's absolutely adorable. Hob LOVES babies and children so he jumped at the opportunity to volunteer his time (he also wants to make ballet cool for kids, especially when a lot of the bigger ballet schools are so focused on putting them through exams. He wants it to be FUN!!). He runs one class for the teeny tiny kids to run around be fairies and learn like. 1st and 2nd position. And then one for the slightly older ones with fun music and barre exercises.

Dream watches from behind the door as Hob sits on the floor, pointing his toes, surrounded by a gaggle of 4 year olds who obviously adore him. Pretty soon he's got them all "floating" around the room on tiptoe pretending to be astronauts. It's absolutely the sweetest thing he's ever seen.

Perhaps Hob spots him lurking and encourages him to join in and Dream is like "You know I no longer have the capacity to dance" and Hob is like "But you can still be an astronaut. I'll make sure you float, I promise."

And Dream melts into a puddle on the floor.