#it was one of those stupid suggested posts that vaguely used a tag i followed because they decided to spam the tags

[vagueshape]

I AM GOING TO FUCKING SCREAM STOP USING SCHIZOPHRENIA AS A COOL """"CREEPY, HORRORCORE, WEIRDCORE, GRUNGECORE (?????)"""" AESTHETIC

[gallavictorious]

I saw your tags and I think you might need to write that fic of Ian and Mickey recreating their first time when Ian gets a tire iron. 🧐☺️

Okay, so this took me a hot minute, and I did it as a kind of speedwrite so it's rather short and not exactly thought out. I also went off (my own) script a little bit and it got unexpectedly sappy there for a moment... But! Have 1,4k very silly words of Ian and Mickey roleplaying their first proper get together because Mickey gave Ian a tire iron. I hope you enjoy it, dear one – thank you so much for the prompt! I had unexpected fun with it. ❤️

(Oh, and tags in questions are the ones on this post, so all credit to @jenatte for providing the original inspiration.)’

ETA: It’s on AO3 now too.

---

Ow. The fuck?

Reluctantly, Mickey blinked awake. The bright light suggested it was already near noon, but that wasn't what had woken it, that wasn't–

It came again: a hard poke to his back. Not the good kind, either, of Ian pressing his hard-on against Mickey's rear while they were snuggled close, but something cold and sharp. Insistent.

”What the fuck?” Mickey groaned, rolling over on his side and peering up at–

–his husband standing over him with... a fucking tire iron in his hands? Not just any tire iron either, but the one Mickey had gotten him as a gift for their anniversary as a mix of a joke, sentimentality and practicality; it was how they started, sure, and meaningful for it, but also a damn good thing to have, no home was complete without it. He thought that maybe Ian had overlooked the practial aspects, though, in favour of going a little misty-eyed before he started dropping half-assed quips about hard lenghts and Mickey had to roll his eyes and punch his husband in the arm a little bit.

Now Mickey's brow furrowed further as he tried to make sense of the scene. For a brief, terrifying moment, apprehension siezed his gut: was Ian having a manic episode, seeing enemies where there was none? But no; though he feigned a fearsome scowl, there was that glitter in Ian's eyes and a small quirk to his lips that spoke little of mania and everything of being a fucking dork and a tease.

”Give me the gun, Mickey,” he intoned, and Mickey was about to ask again what the hell and what fucking gun and maybe are you feeling okay man because perhaps Mickey didn't have quite as good a read on his husband as he thought he had–

–and then he got it, memory reasserting itself, and he could feel the fucking grin growing on his face quite of its own accord. He'd have felt stupid for not immediately catching on, but give him a fucking break, he'd been sleeping two seconds ago and his days of waking up with a start and ready to fight were slowly and thankfully becoming a thing of the past.

Ian's faux frown broke, as he was unable to contain an answering smile. He seemed inordinately pleased with himself, and with Mickey for getting it. Mickey would tell him he was a fucking idiot, but Ian looked so expectant that Mickey decided to play along instead. No harm in a little weird roleplay to make his husband happy, right?

Besides, it wasn't like Ian standing over him and looking vaguely threatening and very hot didn't do it for Mickey on several levels.

”Okay, fine,” he said, climbing to his feet while doing his very best to appear drowsy and uninterested. It had been instinctive back then, the plan of lulling the irate kid into a false sense of security before pouncing on him and kicking his teeth in for having the fucking gall to march into Mickey's room and demand things.

Mickey made a show of slowly turning towards the nightstand, just as he had all those years ago. He could feel Ian's eyes track his every movement, ready to react to the sneak attack he knew was coming. There'd be no taking him by surprise this time.

His face turned away and unseen, Mickey smiled. Or would it?

He grabbed hold of the bottle of lube on the table and spun around to throw it at Ian's head, took a quick step up and to the side, and as Ian gave a short yelp and involuntary raised his hands to protect his face, Mickey rushed him from the side to push him down on the bed. Ian went with a thud and an oof and Mickey didn't hesitate; he was on his husband in a second, straddling his chest and wrestling the tire iron from him grip.

”What the hell, Mick?” Ian demanded, not bothering to struggle but glaring up at Mickey with wide reproachful eyes. ”This isn't how it went!”

Mickey grinned. ”How it went is I kicked your scrawny ass,” he said smugly. ”Now, how am I gonna do that if you know which way I'm gonna move?”

”I was going to let you win!” Ian protested.

Mickey's eyebrows rose. ”Oh, you were gonna let me, huh?”

”Yeah,” Ian said slowly, eyes narrowing, ”I was going to let you.” And with that he grabbed hold of Mickey's arms and pushed him to the side while using his greater body weight as leverage to flip them around.

”Fucker,” Mickey spat, kicking at Ian's shins. He dropped the tire iron – not like he was actually going to hit Ian with it – to have both his hands free for a renewed assault on his sneaky little shit of a husband, but Ian had already wrapped his his stupidly big hands around Mickey's wrists and was pushing him down into the mattress, grinning triumphantly while Mickey struggled and squirmed beneath him.

”Guess I had a change of heart,” Ian said.

Mickey stilled, biting at his bottom lip as he considered. He was pretty sure he could still take Ian if he really wanted to, mostly on account of him being a ruthless motherfucker with no interest whatsoever in fighting fair. However, that required a level of playing dirty and pulling nasty jabs that went far beyond what he felt comfortable doing to his husband these days.

”Uh-huh, and what's the plan now, genius?” he demanded, opting for snark instead of violence.

Ian didn't answer. The look in his eyes had shifted from triumphant to something thoughtful, and softer.

”Do you think it'd have gone the same way if it'd been me on top of you instead of the other way around back then?” he wondered aloud.

Mickey made a face. It fucking figured that his sap of a husband would turn a promising round of foreplay into a game of sentimental what-if.

”I dunno,” he said, wriggling his hips a little to remind Ian that there were otherstuff they could be doing right now, stuff way more exciting than having a goddamn conversation. ”Does it fucking matter? It didn'thappen like that, and it never would have happened like that either, 'cause back then I didn't give a shit about fucking you up too bad, so I'd bashed your fucking brains out before letting get on top of me.”

He wanted to bite his tongue as soon as he'd said it, but it was too late: Ian's eyes had lit up and his thoughtful look transformed into a smirk. ”Well, I mean,” he drawled, leaning down to put his mouth to Mickey's neck, just for a moment, just a little bit of teeth in the brief touch.

”Fuck off,” Mickey said, but he was laughing. Ian's weight pinning him down was as exciting as it was annoying, as it was grounding.

Ian just hummed. He'd straightened again and was gazing down on Mickey with a look that was so damned fond it made a small blush work its way up Mickey's neck.

”I think we'd have ended up here anyway,” Ian decided. ”Somehow.”

”Oh yeah?”

”Yeah.”

Soft smiles then, as something warm and happy bloomed in Mickey's chest. For a moment, they just looked at each other, eyes resting on the face each of them knew best, loved best.

Ian let go of Mickey's wrist to put his hand on the side of his head, fingers tangling in Mickey's hair as Ian ran a thumb over his husband's cheek. He bent down again, but this time to capture Mickey's lips in a long, lingering kiss.

”I think I was always going to have you,” Ian murmured as they broke apart, forehead pressed against forehead.

A second later he yelped in surprised outrage as Mickey took advantage of his lapse in vigilance to grab hold of his hair and yank his head sharply to the side while pushing up to get Ian off him and halfway down onto the floor. Mickey followed him with a snicker, and off they went again, tousling and laughing and absolutely heedless of any noise they might make.

[sarahwroteathing]

Take a Chance (2)

[Sam Wilson x Reader]

Word Count: 1062

Summary: Sam draws you out of your comfort zone to spend an evening with the team.

Warnings: Vague social anxiety

A/N: Look at me posting twice in a week! Wack. Chapter 1 if you missed it

@star-spangled-bingo​ 2021 Square Fill: Cuddling

That weekend, after much coaxing (whining), arguing (complaining), and outright bribery (outright bribery), Sam convinced you to spend an evening with him and his fellow Avengers. A hard won victory considering you generally spent any time off as far away from the compound and all associated individuals as possible. 

“You are going to owe me at least ten favors for this,” you sighed when Sam met you at the elevator, tugging self consciously at the hem of your skirt.

“And here I was about to tell you how nice you look. I’m gonna owe you favors for hanging out with me?” Sam offered you his arm with a curious smile, and you took it without hesitation, eyes still flashing around the room, cataloguing the showroom- esque furnishings and the impressive people they supported. Bucky and Steve lounging on a couch, beers in hand. Clint sprawled on the floor, apparently already asleep while Wanda tossed pretzels at him. The relative relaxation in the room didn’t ease your tension in the slightest.

“You’re gonna owe me favors for making me come back here and spend my day off with people who probably consider themselves my bosses,” you corrected in a low voice, flashing a smile and wave at the few calls of greeting your entrance had prompted. 

“Oh trust me, nobody here is stupid enough to try bossing you around,” a new voice cut in, making both you and Sam jolt in surprise. Natasha materialized at your side, linking her arm with yours in a familiar way Sam wasn't sure your relationship warranted. “Steve might even be scared of you.”

“Please,” you scoffed. “He is in no way afraid of me. What am I gonna do? Write a strongly worded email?”

“He’s impressed by you. Which I think is the closest he gets to being scared of someone,” Sam said, not missing the pleased little smirk that flickered across your lips for a moment. 

“You been bragging on me, Sam?” you asked, leaning your head on his shoulder and fluttering your eyelashes in a way that made his stomach flip despite your teasing smile. 

“Constantly,” Natasha answered as she started to steer you towards the low couches on the right side of the room. 

“Interesting.” You dragged Sam along with you, keeping a firm grip on his arm to avoid separation. “And here I thought all he did was complain about how much time I spend at work.”

“He does that too,” Bucky mumbled from his place on the couch, leveling a baleful look at Sam. “It’s annoying.” 

“It is annoying,” you agreed, earning a begrudging nod of approval from Barnes before Steve hopped up from his seat with a polite smile.

“It’s nice to see you out from behind the desk though. Thanks for joining us.” He offered you his hand, but Sam slapped it down.

“Man, you’re not interviewing her. This is a movie night.”

Steve held up his hands in surrender, an annoyingly knowing smile on his lips. 

“Fine. Plenty of food and drinks on the table. Help yourself since manners are off limits.”

Sam rolled his eyes and followed you to the table as Natasha shook a dozing Clint awake. 

“What movie are we watching?” you asked quietly, nudging Sam gently as he poured your drinks.

Natasha is the one who answered.

“We’ve been doing a tour of the genre classics. Tonight is the original Friday the 13th.”

“Brace yourself for Kevin Bacon in tiny red shorts,” Clint said with a yawn. “It's a lot to handle sober, so I suggest drinking. Heavily.”

“Can’t be any smaller than the blue ones Steve used to wear,” Bucky commented mildly. “But maybe the tights helped.”

“Wait - ”

“What?”

“What?”

“You have no proof,” Steve responded smugly.

“I’m sure some of those posters survived.”

“None that made the shorts obvious.”

“There will obviously be some in-depth internet searching after this is over, but let’s focus up. We’ve got a movie to heckle,” Sam cut in as you tugged him onto an empty couch with you. 

There was a chorus of sighs and vague shuffling as everyone claimed their spaces and settled in. 

Under different circumstances, Sam might have considered this a successful movie night. Clint and Natasha offered well-timed commentary, and Steve and Wanda’s purposefully stupid questions made even Bucky laugh. But while you smiled along and responded cheerfully to any comments directed your way, you never seemed fully engaged. Your posture just a bit too stiff, laughter coming a beat too late, like you weren’t sure it was welcome. Like you didn’t know it was Sam’s favorite sound.

You were out of your element here, far past the bounds of your comfort zone, and it showed. But it was a sacrifice you were making for him, because he wanted you here, because he’d asked. 

Most days, Sam couldn’t tell whether you liked him the way that he liked you. He still couldn’t. But maybe you being here meant something. So he decided to try again.

Sam carefully slid his hand into yours, keeping his eyes fixed on the screen as another camp counselor met a grizzly fate. He caught your glance in his peripheral vision but didn’t turn, keeping his demeanor casual and calm as your fingers laced together and you scooted closer on the couch.

“All the things you’ve seen, and scary movies can still getcha, huh?” you whispered, giving his hand a squeeze. 

And no that wasn’t at all why he wanted to hold your hand, but it was hard to correct you when you were looking at him like that. Your eyes were sympathetic, smile comforting, as you reached to press his hand between both of yours. 

“Guess so,” Sam answered evenly, thoroughly enjoying the way your thumb stroked gently over his wrist. 

A conspiratorial spark flickered into your eyes and you leaned a bit closer. 

“As long as you don’t sleep with Kevin Bacon I think you should be fine.”

“Damn. There go my evening plans.”

There was a laugh, a genuine one, sudden enough to make you snort as you dropped your head against his shoulder to muffle the sound. Sam grinned as you made an effort to calm yourself. You turned to face the movie again but stayed nestled against his shoulder, giving his hand another squeeze when he tilted his head to rest it against yours.

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

We’ve got these two crazy kids cuddling, and that’s what I call PROGRESS. What’s the mood? How are we feeling about their prospects? What would you like to see from them?

Reblogs, comments, and asks make the world go round!

Chapter 3

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

Tags: @shifutheshihtzu​ @internalbullshit​ @lilasiannerd-blog​ @kennadance14 @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory​ @iwillbeinmynest​ @scotlandasshole​ @netflixa​ @hardcorehippos​ @singingprincessstudent​ @sophiealiice​ @blue1928​ @tinuviel015​ @jacks-on-krack​ @a-book-pressed-rose​ @fvckjamesbarnes​ @bbparker​ @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @breezy1415  @orangespocks 

[isamijoo]

Lose

This is written for @gameofdrarry Exploding Snap 2021. My card is on ‘Fake Dating’:

Write a Drarry fic of 823-1149 words following this prompt: Harry agrees to pretend to date Draco to get Draco's father off his back.

Title: Lose

Author: isamijoo

Rating: T

Word Count: 1097

Tags: EWE, Post-Hogwarts, Auror Harry, Curse Breaker Draco

Thank you to @shigacajun for the beta!

READ ON AO3

When Harry reached the front door of Malfoy Manor and knocked, he expected to be greeted by a house-elf or, if he was lucky, Draco himself.

The last person he expected to open the door was Lucius Malfoy.

It had been seven years since the fall of Voldemort, but only six months since Lucius was released from Azkaban. His long hair fell like curtains around his face and his shoulders, his complexion sickly pallid. He glared at Harry like a hunter who is ready to pull the trigger on its prey, or cast the Killing Curse.

“Potter,” he drawled, skipping any meaningless greetings. “What intentions do you have with my son?”

Draco had foreseen this happening, so he had coached Harry on the fake backstory he had constructed, something ridiculous about them falling in love over cups of tea at the Ministry canteen. Harry found this story absurd for a number of reasons.

One, the Ministry canteen’s teas were shite.

Two, Harry had already been falling in love with Draco ever since they started working together — Harry as an Auror, Draco as a Curse-Breaker, for almost two years now. Nothing to do with tea.

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but stopped when Draco suddenly appeared behind Lucius. Draco greeted Harry with an excited “Hi!” and pushed through the narrow space between his father and the doorframe, forcing Lucius to step back with a grimace. Harry found that he enjoyed the look of scorn on the older man’s face.

Outside the manor gates and the wards, Draco smoothed back his short white-blond hair, glancing at the front door, where Lucius still stood, possibly glaring at them. "Where are we going?"

Harry shrugged. He wanted to touch Draco’s hair —it looked so silky— but he kept his hands in his jacket pockets. "Where do you want to go?"

Draco gaped, aghast. "You didn't make any reservations? Anywhere?"

"There are a couple of places I know where I don't require a reservation to get in. But I couldn't decide which one to take you."

"Is the Saviour going to flaunt his special privileges to get us a table?” said Draco incredulously, a hand over his chest. “For me?"

"Just for you, Malfoy,” Harry teased, holding out his arm.

Draco laughed as he linked his arm around Harry’s and they Disapparated.

///

Draco was indecisive, so Harry brought him to a fancy South East Asian Fusion restaurant, where they sat side-by-side in a booth filled with soft cushions.

"So,” Harry said in the middle of their meal, “what's up with your dad?"

"He wants to betroth me to Daphne's little sister," Draco answered while attempting to cut a piece of flatbread with a knife.

Harry vaguely remembered a Slytherin girl by that name in their year at Hogwarts.

"I told him I wasn't interested,” Draco continued, sighing. “But he wasn't having it. I… lost my temper and yelled that I'm a raging homosexual. That would be terribly unfair to the Greengrasses. When he asked whether I had a 'male lover', I knew if I had said no, he'd proceed with the engagement anyway. So I lied.”

Harry watched Draco closely, as he often did whenever they worked together. He couldn’t help himself; they were sitting so close together, the yellow lighting highlighting Draco’s sharp facial features, he looked stunning. “And I’m the first person that came to your mind?”

“I don’t know many people whose… inclinations,” Draco made a face, “align with mine. You’re the only openly bisexual wizard I know.”

“You don’t — I don’t know — go to gay clubs? Or something?”

Draco looked at him as though he couldn’t believe Harry could be so stupid. “No, Potter. I don’t frequent those kinds of establishments. I'm appalled that you would even suggest I partake in such activities.”

“Okay, I’m sorry!" Harry raised his left hand in surrender; he had been using his right hand to eat and he didn’t want drops of curry to fly around. “You’re posh. I get it. Old pureblood family and all that.”

“Yes,” Draco replied curtly, returning his attention to his meal. “I’m glad you understand.”

Harry watched in amusement as Draco, forehead creased in concentration, figured out how to eat roti canai using cutlery. He had refused to follow Harry’s example of using his hands and had declined his help. Harry could tell Draco enjoyed a puzzle, and this was another puzzle with which Draco had challenged himself.

“How long do we have to keep this up?” Harry asked later, when they were on their way back to the Apparition Point. “This fake dating?”

“I suppose until I find a real ‘male lover’.” Draco imitated Lucius when he said the last two words, unexpectedly making Harry laugh.

At Malfoy Manor’s front door, Draco thanked him for the meal. Before he could open the door, Harry took his hand and turned him around so that they faced each other.

“Do you think your dad is watching us right now?” Harry whispered.

Draco glanced around them. “Possibly. I wouldn’t put it past him to put surveillance charms around the manor. It’s definitely something he would do.”

Harry rubbed his thumb along Draco’s bony knuckles. “You want your dad off your back, right?”

“Yes,” Draco muttered, eyeing their clasped hands.

“Then I think we should kiss.”

Draco’s cheeks flushed adorably pink. “You think?”

“I want to,” Harry said clearly.

Draco had no witty comeback for that, only a slack jaw and wide eyes.

Harry stepped closer until their faces were only inches apart. “May I?”

Draco gazed at Harry’s lips, initially with longing, then with uncertainty and confusion. “This isn’t funny, Potter.”

“I’m being serious,” Harry countered gently, taking Draco’s other hand in his. “I would love to take you out on another date. A real one.”

“If we…” Draco left the words unspoken, licking his lips instead, “what would that make us?”

“Boyfriends? I don’t really care about labels, as long as—”

Harry had to swallow the rest of the sentence because Draco had lunged forwards and pressed his mouth against his. Pleasantly surprised, Harry quickly wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist while the blond held Harry's face. They tilted their heads so that they could deepen the kiss. Shivers shot down Harry’s spine when Draco moaned into his mouth.

They abruptly stopped when they heard a loud sound of glass breaking, followed by enraged screams.

“That sounds like my father.” Draco withdrew sheepishly. “I should get inside.”

Harry released him with great reluctance. “Good night, Draco.”

Draco smiled, effectively taking Harry’s breath away. “Good night, Harry.”

AO3

[doctormage]

ok as promised here's my whole thedosian astrology spiral in one big post

underneath a read more bc i love you all

starting w my tags from the first post bc context:

#bc i saw a post that put the zodiac seasons (for thedas) roughly from the 20th of one month to the 20th of the next #like it is irl #but the zodiac seasons coincide w the actual seasons #the start of aries season is the vernal equinox #the start of cancer season is the summer solstice #the start of libra season is the autumnal equinox #the start of capricorn season is the winter solstice #and (to my knowledge??) the seasons in thedas start with their annum holidays or whatever #wintersend = beginning of spring #summerday = beginning of summer #all souls day = beginning of fall #satinalia = beginning of winter #(someone PLEASE correct me if im wrong on that) #well i know summerday and satinalia are right but #ANYWAY #using that logic the zodiac seasons would also start on those days #thedas-aries season would run from the 1st to the 30th of guardian #thedas-taurus would be 1-30 drakonis #thedas-gemini would be 1-30 cloudreach #so that thedas-cancer aka the start of summer aka summerday aka THE FIRST OF BLOOMINGTIDE #kSLFdfslkdFDKs #anyway. now i have to be Right about this#my previous hyperfixation and my current one.....coming together....to make me into a Massive Bitch<3

when would the zodiac signs' seasons take place in the thedosian calendar?

so bc the zodiac signs are based on constellations and all the lore etc that accompanies them i'm not even gonna touch that (YET.....yet...) but since spring, summer, autumn, and winter start on the first days of guardian, bloomingtide, august, and firstfall, respectively, so would those particular seasons of the zodiac

thedas-equivalent-of-aries season would just be 1-30 guardian, bc irl the beginning of aries season coincides with the beginning of spring and continues until the sun moves into taurus; all the cardinal signs (aries, cancer, libra, capricorn) begin on the first of the season like that, so we can assume that – IF there are 12 zodiac signs in thedas – the sun is in each sign for approximately a month. so that in 3 months the next cardinal sign can coincide w the beginning of that season

imo it makes sense that (if we're assuming thedas also has 12 signs and that their sun spends roughly equal time in all of them) four of them would coincide w the beginning of the seasons. so like yeah thedas is fake and for all we know they have 10 zodiac signs and they all start on wildly different days, but then everything is just shooting in the dark and where's the fun in that. obviously the changing of the seasons is important to them bc their holidays center around them, therefore i don't think it's wildly out of the blue to think that whatever star sign system they have going on would similarly coincide w the changing seasons

again i'm not currently bothering with picking constellations/symbols/stories/traits/etc for each sign so i'll just say first, second, third etc. point being the seasons of the zodiac would actually be like they are below, rather than how they are irl (aka the 20th-ish of each month to the 20th-ish of the next; it's like that irl bc our calendar is stupid and the beginning of the seasons randomly happens 2/3 of the way thru the month):

first sign = begins spring, 1-30 guardian

second sign ≈ 1-30 drakonis

third sign ≈ 1-30 cloudreach

fourth sign = begins summer, 1-30 bloomingtide

fifth sign ≈ 1-30 justinian

sixth sign ≈ 1-30 solace

seventh sign = begins autumn, 1-30 august

eighth sign ≈ 1-30 kingsway

ninth sign ≈ 1-30 harvestmere

tenth sign = begins winter, 1-30 firstfall

eleventh sign ≈ 1-30 haring

twelfth sign ≈ 1-30 wintermarch

okay so we have cardinal signs, what about fixed and mutable signs?

the cardinal signs are CALLED the cardinal signs bc they begin the seasons; they're the ~get up and goers~ of the zodiac, motivated, leaders, trail blazers, energetic, etc. they litchrally bring in the changes of the season so that makes sense right

so IF we are to continue w that logic — and here's where i'm getting (even more) conjecture-y, but i feel p confident that since 4 of the 5 major holidays in thedas are based on the changing seasons aka thats important — then the traits of the thedas-equivalent of those signs would also have similarities to the irl cardinal signs (namely the traits listed above)

but there are also FIXED signs and MUTABLE signs: so called bc fixed signs are firmly planted in the middle of each season (taurus in spring, leo in summer, scorpio in autumn, aquarius in winter) and bc mutable signs precede the major change from one season to the next (gemini from spring to summer, virgo from summer to autumn, sagittarius from autumn to winter, pisces from winter-to-spring)

and again bc these are based on the seasons, it also makes sense to me that, generally speaking, the signs in the middle and at the end of the seasons would also be distinct in some way. and probably have similarities to irl fixed and mutable signs, tho i'm not as obstinate about that as i am abt the cardinal signs. but anyway MOVING ON

[the one section with the fan-made sky map ended up being relatively useless even tho the sky map was in fact very cool]

general disclaimer that at this point i’m literally just. straight up guessing lmao

also since we only have so many constellations we see in-game, and since they each come with a codex giving us at least a little background info (aka CRUMBS), any suggestions of which constellations are part of the zodiac are based on those specifically. obviously in real life theres a bazillion constellations that aren’t part of the zodiac, but we do not have the luxury of knowing every constellation in thedas so i am going with what we got

the thedosian constellation map (the canon one) is different than the fan-made sky map, but because i highly doubt anyone at bioware could’ve predicted someone would be As Insane As I Am Being Right Now about it, i don’t think they probably put a lot of thought into making it lmao. the fan made sky map DID have thought put into it tho, and it actually features the constellations we see in-game, so i’m going w that one ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

AND. i’m gonna look at the names of the months (both the fancy ancient tevinter names and the ~low/common~ names) in comparison w the constellations we have at our disposal bc why the fuck wouldn’t they be related in some way. this has no basis in any deeper logic than “maybe the fact that the ‘common’ name for this month is drakonis has somethinng to do with the constellation draconis idfk” but like. it’s literally the same name but with one letter (that makes the same sound) changed. i don’t think i’m asking too much here lmao

signs that start the seasons

wintersend is canonically associated with the old god urthemiel; the codex entry for the constellation bellitanus states it (is believed that it) was originally associated with urthemiel. using the same reasoning as with satinalis/satinalia, i’m gonna assume that bellitanus-as-a-zodiac-season would start with wintersend and last through the whole of guardian

summerday was once called andoralis, dedicated to the old god andoral; the codex entry for the constellation servani states it is thought to be representative of andoral, but where the wiki says andoral is the god of unity, the codex says andoral was the god of slaves. (doesn’t clarify if andoral is like, a figure to which the enslaved would turn to in their plight, as like a savior? or whether andoral is...just associated with slaves in some way.) i have no idea what the fuck to do w that except assume bioware is back on their bullshit! i’m gonna come back to this later

all soul’s day was once funalis, dedicated to dumat, old god of silence; the codex entry for the constellation silentir (which literally means ‘silence’ lmao) is usually said to represent dumat. so by this logic we might say the zodiac season for silentir begins with all soul’s day and ends with the last day of august

the constellation satinalis is canonically associated with satinalia, so it makes sense to me that if satinalis is part of the zodiac, its season would start with satinalia / last through the month in which the holiday takes place. aka firstfall

with these in mind, we have (tentatively) 3 of our 4 cardinal signs aka the signs that begin the seasons: bellitanus for spring, silentir for autumn, and satinalis for winter

looking at the fan-made sky map, these aren’t super evenly spaced apart (but then again neither are irl constellations perfectly proportioned so whatever!) HOWEVER. they do still, at least vaguely 😭, follow a clockwise pattern in the correct order of guardian/spring → summerday/bloomingtide → all soul’s day/august → satinalia/firstfall. it’s about the small victories ok *inquisitor ameridan voice* take moments of happiness where you find them or whatever

what about the other 8 signs???

great question!!! haha!!!

✨I Am Once Again About To Start Guessing Wildly✨

because even tho the “cardinal signs” go clockwise and in order, there’s still an uneven amount of constellations BETWEEN them. there should be 2 between each but, for example, silentir and satinalis only have tenebrium between them. and there are fucking....TEN constellations between satinalis and bellitanus so we’re going to have to get even more creative somehow<3 lmao these are all taken from the codex entries for the constellations (the names are links!)

TOTH: tevinter old god of fire, thats p much it. the codex does say sometimes toth is depicted as a “flaming orb” which maybe i truly have succumbed to the brain worms but i hear ‘orb’ and ‘god’ and ‘flame’ (aka light/energy/etc or perhaps idk a fucking explosion) and yall already know where my dumb ass is going w that 🥴

since the rules are made up and the points dont matter, i have decided Fuck Bioware, toth is going with summerday now. i dont give a rats ass about andoral since apparently they dont care to tell us what he was actually god of, so welcome toth you are now in charge of the beginning of summer bc i said so

TENEBRIUM: associated with lusacan, tevinter old god of darkess/night. also obvious associations with falon’din, elven god of death, whose sacred animal is an owl

pea brain analysis: its dark in winter lol; slightly larger, maybe lima-bean-sized brain analysis: the beginning of a new year (aka first day aka first of wintermarch) could hypothetically be associated w the past ‘dying.’ and also the holiday was originally an annual check to make sure everyone was alive, so i don’t see why gods of death can’t be associated w making sure all your loved ones weren’t taken by said god of death lol

ELUVIA: commonly called “sacrifice,” it’s (apparently) based on an orlesian tale in which a woman is saved from a “””lustful mage””” (i love bioware i love this frachise) by being placed in the sky and becoming a constellation. before this inspiring tale that is definitely not anti mage propaganda, eluvia may have represented razikale, tevinter old god of mystery. the imagery of this constellation is a seated woman with a cloud right above her - literally like her head is in the clouds (also bc it sounds like ‘eluvian’ i’m like 👀)

i’m inclined to pair this one up with cloudreach both bc the ancient tevinter name is “eluviesta” and bc the woman in the story is literally. in the clouds. simple enough

PERAQUIALUS: it’s a boat! but apparently a “primitive vessel” sailed by ancient peoples like the neromenians. according to the codex the translation is usually ‘across the sea’ rather than ‘boat’ but that doesnt rly help me lol

sorry my beloved. before me stand 10 beautiful constellations but i only have 9 pictures in my hands. you are not thedas’s next top zodiac sign

DRACONIS: obviously its a dragon lol

i think the drakonis (the month) / draconis (this constellation) correlation is. pretty evident lmao and since we have all but thrown credible hypothesizing out the window, why NOT?? why not make drakonis the season of draconis!!! 🤡

FERVENIAL: an oak; some believe it could be representative of andruil, elven goddess of the hunt, as the vir tanadhal (“way of the three trees”) is her whole thing

sigh idk *spins wheel* leaves start changing color in mid-late autumn so *spins wheel again* fervenial can go with harvestmere which is thedas-october it’s fine

JUDEX: a big ol sword, sometimes called the “sword of mercy,” referring to pre-andrastian concepts of justice in ancient tevinter

speaking of pulling ideas right out of my ass, if this constellation is associated w justice it makes sense to me that its season would be in the month of justinian. bc again why the fuck not!

EQUINOR: the stallion / a horse, sometimes depicted as a seated griffon. some speculate the original imagery was a halla, linking the constellation to the elven god ghilan’nain aka “mother of the halla”

i am really grasping at straws here HAHA but the word haring (as a gerund/present participle of the verb ‘hare’) can mean to run or go with great speed. horses go fast, ghilan’nain is invoked when elves want to travel quickly, blah blah blah. whatever

SOLIUM: the sun; one interpretation is that it indicates an ancient fascination with ALL objects in the sky (aka both the sun and moon[s]), another interpretation associates it with the elven god elgar’nan, aka “eldest of the sun”

alright i know the name ‘solas’ means pride in elvhen and the word ‘solace’ means like comfort/consolation, neither of which have jack shit to do with the sun, so i shouldn’t assume solis is associated with solium exclusively bc they start with ‘sol’ and sol means sun in...a lot of irl languages lol HOWEVER. i have an even worse reasoning we can fall back on which is that it’s in summer and it’s...fucking sunny??? LMAO im so sorry

FENRIR: the white wolf 👁👄👁 scholars apparently dont know wtf to do w this one; obviously there is a case to be made about its association with fen’harel

i have talked myself in circles on this one but whenever i try to type it out it makes Zero Fucking Sense lmao so. i may come back and edit this but for now just know it’s going with kingsway and i want yall to know i do have some stupid nebulous reasoning for that in my silly little brain but communicating it is simply not in the cards for me today god bless 🙏

alright so what bullshit have you proposed at the end of all this EXTREMELY shaky guesswork, queen?

HERE YOU GO I GUESS

Bellitanus: begins spring, 1-30 Guardian

Draconis: 1-30 Drakonis

Eluvia: 1-30 Cloudreach

Toth: begins summer, 1-30 Bloomingtide

Judex: 1-30 Justinian

Solium: 1-30 Solace

Silentir: begins autumn, 1-30 August

Fenrir: 1-30 Kingsway

Fervenial: 1-30 Harvestmere

Satinalis: begins winter, 1-30 Firstfall

Equinor: 1-30 Haring

Tenebrium: 1-30 Wintermarch

next time i have a death wish i will come back and speculate what kind of traits would be associated w these signs (based on the ~lore~ surrounding the constellations, their tentative places as cardinal/fixed/mutable, etc) but i just wasted precious hours of my life on this and i cant look at it anymore!!!

also want to reiterate that, regarding the post i saw earlier that i disagreed with, my refutation of that argument ended like 2 reblogs many sections ago lol. the only thing i feel confident defending is that the different seasons of the zodiac would – based on the actual changing 4 seasons – start on the first of each month and end on the last day of each month, as opposed to the way it is in real life western astrology

all this other bullshit is just for fun (??? i guess????) and based ALMOST entirely on my own assumptions. informed by actual shit from the games ofc but mainly me just

EDIT: would like to add that i don't have world of thedas or any other supplementary shit; all i have at my disposal is the 3 games, their DLCs, and the wiki lol. so if there's anything here that WOT (or smth else) contradicts please lmk! and also sorry for any typos lmao

hope yall enjoyed witnessing this fully unhinged moment w me bye<3

[sob-dylan]

ranking of bcs season 5 episodes based on how sexy i found them

10. Namaste dir. & writ. Gordon Smith

good ep, not sexy. jimmy commits his first hate crime against the dandy howard hamlin. hostile work environment at los pollos. the return of the uncomfortably stereotypical thugs that beat up mike. very let down because gordon smith has written some of bcs’s sexiest episodes in past seasons, including gloves off, chicanery, & something beautiful. the car chase intercut with lyle cleaning the fryer was pretty sexy tho. 2/10

9. Dedicado a Max dir. Jim McKay, writ. Heather Marion

this ep ranks so low because of what it could have been. was expecting it to be the sexiest episode, but was given very little of what was promised. the fountain was sexy, scheming kim was sexy, any invocation of revenge is sexy. that’s about it. 2.5/10

8. Wexler v. Goodman dir. Michael Morris, writ. Thomas Schnauz

first we’ve seen of nacho in a long time, but as usual it’s not nearly enough. he is reunited with mike, giving him the opportunity to play a bargaining chip for the first time in two seasons, which is sexy of him, but also reminded me of the how little he’s done since he became fring’s dog. nacho being underutilized is not sexy. (i could go on a whole rant about the poker chip we’ve seen nacho fiddling with a few times during different collection scenes, but i don’t think i quite understand it enough). kim suffers the worst day of her professional career because jimmy decided he knew what she wanted instead of listening to her. not sexy. lalo getting arrested was, of course, very sexy. 4/10

7. Magic Man directed by Bronwen Hughes, written by Peter Gould

sexy episode, but it all rests on the shoulders of lalo, nacho, & gus (+ a very timid domingo-- i’m into that). the mcwexler stuff just made me sad. lalo’s lounging in el michoacáno with his blue loafers kicked up? much appreciated. lalo and nacho constantly calling each other “man”? nice! the sit down between lalo and gus was very sexy, but the sexiest part of this episode for me was the trap house, especially the beginning sequence. loved the scene starting from inside the car with some great tunes, the camera following the meth down the drainpipe, lalo’s erratic driving and his refusal to acknowledge arlo, the power that nacho has demonstrated by arlo shutting up when he gets out of the car, the slightly shaky camera work in this moment, nacho leaping up those stairs and then pounding on the door before gently telling mouse it’s okay. all incredibly sexy! 6/10

6. JMM dir. Melissa Bernstein, writ. Alison Tatlock

pretty fucking sexy for production legend melissa bernstein’s directorial debut.  not only is it the first bit of substantial lalo content in a while, it’s the debut of jorge de guzman! the shot of him from the shoulders down with the focus on his tattoo? sneaking a phone in so he can tell nacho to burn down los pollos? the arson itself? very, very sexy. vague allusions to what went down in santiago? frustrating, but sexy. kim and jimmy consummating the most ill-advised marriage ever authorized by the state of new mexico? sexy, (especially kim’s hair). lydia rodarte-quayle! “shanked and shivved and whatnot.” that was a very sexy suggestion, lydia, keep ‘em coming! 7/10

5. Bagman dir. Vince Gilligan, writ. Gordon Smith

vince gilligan’s triumphant and very sexy return. the shoot out! the time lapse of the clouds while jimmy and mike walk along at a normal speed! “my wife” & “mrs. goodman!” and of course, the sexiest thing of all, the meeting between kim and lalo. gordon smith redeemed himself with this one. despite the piss-drinking, a very sexy episode indeed. 7.8/10

4. The Guy For This dir. Michael Morris, writ. Ann Cherkis 

a very, very sexy ep! a swarm of ants set to yodeling isn’t in itself sexy, but i respect the symbolism and the bold creative choice. but then! the garage scene! imo this was the sexiest scene of the season. everything from the blocking to the lighting, not to mention the Acting. i’ve rewatched that scene many, many times. other sexy things about this episode: kim yelling at acker, kim opening up, nacho’s lounging-at-home-watching-soccer outfit, amber & jo, the one genuine smile nacho has all season (at the beginning of a devastating conversation with his father), lalo making jimmy and nacho watch him drive his car, “you’ll make time!”, nacho’s signature car-leaning, & “once you’re in, you’re in.” 8/10

3. 50% Off dir. Norberto Barba, writ. Alison Tatlock

look: i can admit that this hole ranking system is heavily dependent on how much nacho & lalo there was in an episode. this episode started with a home invasion at casa de varga so that gus could intimidate nacho in his underwear and ended with nacho rolling up on jimmy and then making him drop his mint chip in the street. and in between? the poker game. the birth of ocho loco/krazy-8. THE PARKOUR. “ignacio varga, eres un chingon.” the small expression of pride on nacho’s face when lalo says “it’s your call.” nacho finally accepting food from lalo, only to find it’s a trap! lalo using his own brand of the lie detector to make nacho offer to kill his oldest friend. dear god! this ep marked the explosion of the eduardo “lalo” salamanca/ignacio “nacho” varga tag on ao3. it’s an inspiring kind of sexiness. mike’s story was compelling, but a boner-killer. 8.9/10

2.  Bad Choice Road dir. & writ. Thomas Schnauz

ah! the something stupid callback! jimmy falling to his knees when he finally gets a signal! kim crying! jimmy’s trauma! the godfather reference with the oranges! (and no, i didn’t pull that out of my ass. peter gould mentioned it on the podcast) the care-taking, despite kim having every right to be furious with jimmy! the tender and heartbroken look on lalo’s face when he leaves the nursing home! lalo impatiently ordering his new chauffeur nacho around! the way lalo stands when nacho drops him off at the well! how happy nacho is to finally be rid of lalo for just 3 seconds before lalo gets back in the car! the lalo leap! the final scene! rhea claiming her emmy! but ultimately what’s so sexy about this ep is how well it encapsulated the ethos of the show. i’m still salty about the dinner party (???) with lalo, nacho, and nacho’s girlfriends getting cut, tho. 9/10

1. Something Unforgivable dir. Peter Gould, writ. Peter Gould & Ariel Levine

i don’t consider it the best episode of the season (that would be bagman), nor is it my favorite (that would be 50% off), but imo it is the sexiest episode of bcs yet. slippin’ kimmy! the finger guns! the kansas city royals shirt! kim laughing in howard’s face! the post-coital mcwexler scheming! and of course every single scene in mexico! nacho’s forced smiles! lalo’s unmitigated excitement at returning home! “nachito!” lalo’s despicable but still somehow sexy attitude toward that poor kid ciro! the scene where he’s fixing the car! lalo’s praise of nacho! lalo being the life of the party! everyone adoring him expect for juan bolsa! lalo’s party shirt! nacho’s tough but respectful chain-over-a-fully-buttoned-shirt-cause-it’s-time-to-meet-the-don look! nacho spelling out exactly what he wants! lalo closely watching nacho and don eladio! the intimate, late-night fireside conversation! the beautiful emotional asymmetry of that scene! a man who is finally ready to allow himself to trust someone choosing the wrong person! (in other words: lalo lowkey trying to get laid while nacho’s actively trying to facilitate his assassination!) nacho being the resourceful little bitch we all love! lalo immediately blaming poor ciro! (seriously, what is the story there??) the frying pan! the fucking tunnel! lalo kneeling over that dying hitman, peeling off the mask that’s melted to his face, and gently telling him “esta bien” ! lalo limping out of his estate with murder in his eyes, ready to hunt down the only man not carrying the Salamanca name he’s ever trusted! if this ep had included nacho regaining a shred of agency over his situation, it could have a perfect score. 9.9/10

[splendidlyimperfect]

When Natsu runs into five-year-old Sting and Rogue at the Grand Magic Games, he thinks they're cute kids with a serious case of hero worship. But when it turns out that they're both Dragon Slayers and they belong to the ruthless Sabertooth Guild, something doesn't feel quite right. Natsu and Gray quickly grow protective of the two little kids, and they do their best to build a relationship with them to try to keep them safe and figure out what exactly is going on at Sabertooth.

alternate chapter art here

Chapter Summary: Natsu and Gray are both unsettled by the revelation about Sting and Rogue's dragon slaying powers, and Gray realizes he has something in common with Rogue.

Chapters (2/?): 1 | 2 Fandom: Fairy Tail Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Rogue Cheney/Sting Eucliffe, Laxus Dreyar/Freed Justine Additional Tags: Canon Universe, Not Canon Compliant, like not even close, Dai Matou Enbu | Grand Magic Games Arc, Sort Of, Childhood Friends, Cute Kids, Hero Worship, Fairy Tail Dragon Slayers, Protectiveness, protective Natsu, Protective Gray, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Parenthood, sorta - Freeform, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trans Character, Nonbinary Character, Trans Gray, Trans Sting, Nonbinary Rogue, they're just adorable baby dragon slayers and Natsu wants to adopt them, and kind of does, Mutual Pining, because Gray and Natsu are idiots

-----

The walk back to the inn was quiet. Erza and Lucy quickly slipped into a recap of the day’s events, but Natsu was edgy and distracted, still trying his hardest to figure out what had felt wrong about the two boys.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself if you think too hard.” Gray appeared beside Natsu and bumped his shoulder, knocking him out of step.

“Hilarious.” Natsu nudged him back, but it lacked the usual enthusiasm of their bickering.

“I try.” Gray shoved his hands into his pockets, staying next to Natsu as they made their way through the dark streets. He didn’t say anything, which wasn’t unusual for him, but Natsu felt like there was a weight behind the lack of words.

“It doesn’t feel right,” Natsu finally said once they had arrived at the inn and the girls had headed in to sleep. He leaned against the wall next to Gray and stared up at the sky. The sun had set, and the sky was a dark tapestry littered with pinpricks of stars. “I dunno why it’s bugging me so much. We weren’t much older when we joined Fairy Tail.”

Gray nodded, absently patting his pocket where he used to keep his cigarettes. Natsu batted his hand away, trying to ignore the warm spark when their fingers touched.

It doesn’t mean anything, Natsu thought as he pulled his hand back and shoved it in his pocket. He’s your best friend.

Continue reading on AO3

Gray didn’t answer for a while. The silence that settled between them was easy and familiar, and Natsu felt himself unconsciously leaning closer to Gray. Everyone always teased Natsu about how much he talked, but when he was alone with Gray, it didn’t feel necessary. The urgent need to fill the air with cheerful words was replaced by a deep, quiet sense of familiarity that felt like home.

“I think,” Gray said after a while, keeping his gaze on the sky, “it feels wrong because they’re alone. I mean, not alone, but there aren’t any other kids in their guild.” He kicked at a rock, watching it bounce across the street and clatter down into the gutter. “They’re so young. And nobody’s looking out for them.”

“Yukino is,” Natsu pointed out, and Gray nodded. “But she seems…”

“Afraid?”

“Mm. She doesn’t really fit with them either.” Natsu sighed, prodding at a bruise that was still forming on his ribs. It was courtesy of a vicious kick from Orga during their fight that morning – one that Natsu and Gray had nearly lost to Sabertooth’s ruthless tactics.

Silence fell between them again. The soft chill that normally radiated from Gray was tempered by Natsu’s heat, keeping them both comfortably warm in the cool spring air. Natsu absently held out his hand and summoned a small flame, running it back and forth across his knuckles. Gray blew a stream of frosty air at it, and it froze for a second, glinting orange and gold in the dim light of the streetlamp.

“I think Sting’s trans,” Gray said as the flame went out.

Natsu raised an eyebrow, tipping his head to look at the soft expression on Gray’s face. Natsu still remembered the day he’d come out, even though it was years ago. They’d been nine or ten, sparring as usual, and Droy had told Natsu that he shouldn’t hit girls. Gray had yelled that he wasn’t a girl, said some words that he’d probably picked up from Gildarts, then punched Droy and stormed away from the guild. Natsu had followed him down to the river and they’d spent the afternoon together, carefully holding hands and watching the water sparkle in the afternoon sun.

Nothing had changed. Gray was still Gray, and Natsu had still loved him just as fiercely.

“How do you know?”

Gray shrugged. “I dunno, something…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely. Natsu nodded. He’d known right away that Rogue wasn’t a boy or a girl, just like Freed, but he couldn’t quite explain how.

“I wish they could come with us,” Natsu said. “There’s something off – not just about Sabertooth, about them. I can’t figure it out and it’s driving me crazy.”

“You could try to talk to Yukino,” Gray suggested. “Not to take them or anything, just to maybe, I dunno, offer to help them. Train them, I mean. With the dragon slayer stuff. Jiemma might go for that if that’s what he’s… keeping them for.”

“That’s… actually a good idea.”

“I happen to have those sometimes.”

“Only when you’re inspired by my brilliance.”

Gray laughed – a rare, quiet sound that made Natsu’s cheeks warm and his stomach twist in a gentle, familiar way.

“C’mon,” Gray said, pushing himself off the wall and nudging Natsu’s arm. “It’s late, let’s go to bed.”

Natsu swallowed back the disappointment that washed over him – he wanted to stay here, shoulders touching, talking quietly in the night. He liked having Gray to himself. It happened so rarely now that they were adults, and Natsu missed the afternoons they used to spend by the river. He missed holding hands. He missed falling asleep together under the afternoon sun and waking up with his head on Gray’s shoulder.

“I’ll be right in,” he said, forcing himself to smile.

Gray frowned. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Natsu said quickly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

~

“You shouldn’t drink so much of that; you’re going to have a heart attack.”

Gray glared half-heartedly at Lucy over his fourth cup of coffee. Even with that much caffeine flowing through him, he was still exhausted. Sleep had evaded him for most of the night. At first, he’d spent his time waiting for Natsu to come inside, wishing he’d stayed out with him. Then, once Natsu had finally crawled into the bed across from Gray and was snoring softly, the nightmares had started.

Gray hadn’t dreamed about his mom in a long time. He’d woken up in the early hours of the morning, skin and sheets covered in a thick layer of frost, and had been surprised to find tears frozen to his cheeks.

“’m fine,” he mumbled. “Stupid beds are uncomfortable.”

Lucy nodded sympathetically as she sat down at the table across from him. The inn had its own small kitchen, and Gray was grateful for the option to eat here, mostly alone, instead of heading to the market to find food with everyone else. He still felt unsettled and wasn’t quite ready to face the world.

“Are you okay?” Lucy’s gentle question made the fragile barrier around Gray’s heart splinter a little and he sighed, dropping his head into his hands. Somehow, she was always able to see past his bullshit.

“Just bad dreams.”

“Is it because of the kids?”

Gray peeked up at her. “You’re freakishly perceptive, you know that, right?”

Lucy laughed, poking at her pancakes. “So that’s a yes, then.”

“I guess.” Gray rubbed his face. “I dunno. They’re little and alone.” The words stuck in his throat and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself together. “It just…”

“Reminds you of yourself?”

“Would you stop that?”

“Nope.”

Gray groaned. “Yes, okay? And I know a lot of us had shitty childhoods, but it made me think about my mom, and how it sucks they don’t have their parents. That’s all.”

Lucy reached across the table and took Gray’s hand, squeezing it gently. “It’s okay to miss your mom,” she said gently. “I miss mine, too. And I know that Natsu’s thinking about his dad. You’re not alone, Gray.”

He let out a noisy breath and tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Yeah, I know.” He squeezed her hand, giving her a small half-smile before letting go and grabbing his coffee again. The taste was bitter as he downed it in one gulp, then stood up and pushed his chair away from the table.

“You’d better get going,” Lucy said, gesturing at the clock on the wall behind him. “I’m pretty sure you’re up first this morning.”

“Mm.” Gray stretched, then leaned across the table and quickly kissed the top of Lucy’s head. He pulled away before she could say anything, turning toward the door so she couldn’t see the redness in his cheeks. “See you later?” For some reason it came out as a question, almost seeking reassurance.

Of course, Lucy provided it. “I’ll be cheering for you,” she said. “Good luck!”

~

The fight was exhausting. Gray was matched one-on-one against someone named Renne from a guild he couldn’t even remember, and the lack of sleep caught up to him halfway through the fight. Something hit him hard in the forehead and he stumbled backward, blinking when blood dripped into his eyes.

C’mon, Princess. Natsu’s voice filled Gray’s mind and for a moment, he thought it was his imagination. Then he glanced up into the stands and realized that Natsu was staring down at him with Max by his side, borrowing his telepathic magic. You’ve got this.

Gray shook his head to clear his blurred vision, launching a barrage of ice blades from his hands as Renne teleported behind him. Another hit landed on his jaw and he grunted in pain, stumbling forward and cursing under his breath. Frustration and embarrassment washed over him as blood filled his mouth.

The kids are watching. Natsu’s voice appeared again. Look up.

Gray spun around, gaze moving from Natsu’s grinning face to the enormous screen that panned across the crowd. Right now, it was focused on Sabertooth, and there, leaning against the railing, were Sting and Rogue. Sting had a wild grin on his face and was bouncing up and down in excitement, turning to talk to Yukino as he pointed at Gray. Rogue was standing behind him, looking much more subdued, but when Gray realized they were still holding the snake he’d made, something warm flooded through him.

Fuck this, he thought, spitting blood onto the ground and turning back to Renne. I’m not gonna lose. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

As soon as he thought about it, the devil slayer magic he’d been ignoring for so long started to thrum under his skin. An anticipation grew along with the power, layered with an irritated almost-whisper of, why did you wait so long, let me out, let me free, let me destroy.

Gray gritted his teeth, pushing back against the destructive desires of the magic. It itched and stung, just like every time he called on it, pushing at him like it didn’t quite fit in his body. The black marks raced across his skin like ink on parchment, twisting in patterns that Gray still didn’t understand. He didn’t use the magic often – even after a year, the new powers still unsettled him.

He exhaled, letting the tension and fatigue flow out of his body, then looked up at Renne again. Everything about her was sharper. Gray could see her magic now; a purplish-blue aura that darted around her, quick and nimble. It tasted bitter, overpowering the coppery tang of blood that clung to the inside of his mouth.

A look of surprise appeared on her face that was quickly replaced by disgust, and she cursed as she charged at him. Her magic flowed just ahead of her, and Gray watched the movements carefully, stepping out of the way of her attack. She stumbled uncertainly, then glared at him as she disappeared in a burst of light.

Gray closed his eyes, letting the magic flow out of him like a sixth sense, feeling through the air until it found a heartbeat. He whipped around as the magic snapped back to him, crystallizing along his arms until sharp blades spread from his fingers to elbows. Renne appeared exactly where he’d expected, and her nasty grin was quickly replaced by a look of surprise when he caught her blow one-handed and tossed her to the ground.

A hungry sensation raced through Gray at the expression on her face, but he pushed it back, refusing to give in to the vicious desires of his magic. The commentators shouted something, and a cheer spread through the crowd, but it all turned to a dull roar as Gray pushed the magic out again, letting it crystallize into a group of wicked-looking ice shards that hung around Renne.

“What the hell kind of magic is this?” she hissed, pushing herself to her feet. The shards moved closer to her, bathing her in the bruised purple light of the devil slayer’s ice.

“Mine,” Gray said simply. Then he closed his fist and detonated the ice. It exploded into thousands of tiny fragments that whipped around Rennee, sharp and deadly. She swore as one of them nicked her arm, then scowled at Gray and teleported away.

He closed his eyes again, following the magic as it moved. It darted back and forth around him and through the air, leaving behind a sour, acidic smell, then stopped on near the edge of the stadium. Gray quickly dropped to one knee, pressing his hands to the ground and sending out a shockwave that culminated in a mass of razor-sharp ice spikes exploding underneath where Rennee reappeared.

She disappeared again and Gray could feel her anger and resentment, a dark blue color seething through the lines of her magic. It made her even easier to track. He kept his eyes closed, shifting to follow each teleport and block it with the hungry magic that flowed through him.

A few attempts later, he caught her. She materialized into a prison of dark purple ice that raced across her skin until it covered her torso and pinned her arms to her chest. She stumbled forward, landing on her knees and not standing again.

The commentator’s voices were fuzzy as a cheer raced through the stadium and the Fairy Tail logo filled the screen. Gray exhaled in relief as he released the magic around Renne, pulling it back to him and letting it dissolve. The marks quickly disappeared into his skin, leaving him worn out and oddly cold.

“Freak,” Renne hissed as she stumbled to her feet. “That magic is evil. What the hell is wrong with you?”

Gray didn’t have an answer for her, and he dropped his gaze to the ground as she turned on her heel and walked away.

I knew you could do it. Natsu’s voice appeared in Gray’s head again and he looked up to see the stupid, brilliant smile that always made his heart ache. You looked pretty badass, too. Gray was glad he was far enough away from Natsu that he couldn’t see the embarrassed flush that crept into his cheeks. I think you’ve got a new fan, Natsu added, nodding to the screen again.

The camera had panned to the left, but the edge of the screen still caught the Sabertooth viewing area. Sting had been cut out of the picture, but Rogue was still there, clutching the snake to their chest and gazing down at Gray with a wide-eyed look of adoration. The warm feeling from earlier swelled in Gray’s chest again – for some reason, that look was worth more than all the cheers from the rest of the stadium.

~

The dizzy, uncomfortable feeling that always appeared after using the devil slayer magic plagued Gray for the rest of the day. He tried his best to shake it off and cheer for his team, but the feeling dug its claws into him and wouldn’t let go.

Freak.

Evil.

Demon.

The echo of Renne’s voice drifted around in his mind, next to the headache and the unsettling feeling of his skin not fitting quite right.

“You okay?” Natsu asked once they’d left the stadium for the day. The evening sky was a soft pink and cast gentle shadows across the cobblestone street. The market was closed for the evening and the quiet was a calm reprieve from the shouts and excitement of the games.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Gray grumbled. “I’m fine.”

“Liar.” Natsu gave him a sideways look but Gray refused to return it. “You look like shit.”

Gray snorted. “Thanks.”

“It’s what I’m here for.” Gray caught Natsu’s grin out of the corner of his eye. “Seriously, though. You used the magic.”

Gray’s stomach twisted. “Of course I used magic,” he said quickly. “It’s called the Grand Magic Games.”

“That’s not what I meant, idiot, and you know it.”  

Gray sighed, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. He missed being able to hold Natsu’s hand. They’d done it for years, and the gentle warmth of Natsu’s palm against his had always been enough to make Gray feel safe. Then they’d grown up and it had started to feel like something else, and it hurt Gray too much to keep touching Natsu and knowing he couldn’t have him like that.  

“I just—”

Gray’s words were interrupted by a yell, and a familiar voice shouting, “Stop it!”

“Sting?” Gray frowned at Natsu, looking around the empty market for the little boy. It took a second and another shout for him to see the head of curly blond hair on the other side of the fountain in the center of the square.  

“Are they out here again by themselves?” Natsu asked, sighing in exasperation as they both quickened their pace and headed toward Sting. “I swear, I’m gonna—”

“Leave them alone!”

Sting yelled again, and they arrived at the fountain just in time to see someone shove him. It was a boy who looked to be a couple years older than Sting and Rogue, and an ugly look crossed his face as Sting stumbled backward.

“He’s stupid and you are too,” the boy said, hands clenching into fists. A terrified-looking Rogue stood just behind Sting, and a spark of protective anger flared in Gray’s chest. Sting’s cheeks were red, and he looked like he was about to cry, but he didn’t back down. His hands shook as the boy took a step toward him.

“Hey!” Natsu’s shout caught the boy’s attention as he stepped forward, and he whipped around to face them. His eyes widened when he realized who Natsu was. “What do you think you’re—”

Before Gray could grab him, the boy was gone, darting out of the market and into the maze of alleys that wound through the city.

There was a moment of silence, and then Sting burst into tears.

“Hey bud.” Natsu’s voice was gentle as he crouched down next to Sting. “Are you okay?” Sting shook his head, and Natsu made a sad sound, pulling the little boy into a hug. “It’s okay,” Natsu said softly as Sting pressed his face into his shoulder. “You’re safe.”

Gray turned to Rogue, who was staring uncertainly at Sting and Natsu. Gray hesitated, not quite sure if he should step in or let Natsu handle it. Kids weren’t his forte – even with Asuka he sometimes felt awkward and out of place, unsure of how to respond to her exuberance and desire to play.

Then Rogue rubbed their face and Gray realized they were about to cry as well.

“Hey, c’mere,” Gray said gently, holding out his hand. Rogue stared at Sting for a few more seconds, then cautiously took Gray’s hand and followed him over to the fountain. Gray sat down on the edge and lifted Rogue up to sit beside him, surprised by how light they were. Rogue quickly curled up against him as they sniffled and tried to hide their tears.

“Is Sting in trouble?”

“Of course not,” Gray reassured them, wrapping his arm around them as they snuggled closer to him. The easy trust that Rogue seemed to have in him made Gray feel warm and important. “That kid was a jerk,” he said. “Neither of you did anything wrong. Did he hurt you?”

Rogue shook their head, sniffing and wiping their face with their sleeve. “He said my eyes was weird,” they said quietly. Anger flared up in Gray’s chest again and he contemplated chasing the kid down. “Sting telled him to go away but he didn’t listen. Why he was mean?”

“I don’t know,” Gray said honestly. “Sometimes people aren’t very nice and there isn’t a good reason for it.”

Rogue didn’t answer, just rested their head against Gray’s shoulder and played with the frayed edge of their sleeve. Gray looked back at Natsu, who was still crouched next to Sting with a hand on his arm. Sting had stopped crying and his face was set in a stubborn frown, and Gray almost laughed when he realized it was the same look Natsu had always worn at that age.

“You’re nice,” Rogue said, pulling Gray’s attention back to them. “I like you.”

Gray stilled, not quite sure why the words made his cheeks burn. “I like you too,” he said carefully. He looked back at Natsu, who had managed to get Sting to smile, then back down at Rogue. He felt wildly out of his element and he had no idea how to make Rogue feel better. Then he thought of the way Rogue’s face had lit up at the snake sculpture he’d made the day before.

“Hey, you wanna see something cool?”

Rogue looked up at him, half of their face hidden behind a curtain of dark hair. “See what?”

Gray held out both hands, summoning his magic as slowly as he could. Snowflakes drifted up and around his palms as they started to glow with a faint blue light. Rogue’s face immediately brightened with excitement and they leaned forward, staring at the magic.

“You can make a snake again?” they asked as they gazed at the soft blue light.

“Sure,” Gray said, relaxing as Rogue’s tearful expression transformed into a small, shy smile. “I can make anything you want.”

“Anything?” Rogue’s eyes widened further.

“Yep.” Gray moved his fingers and the ice twisted into a snake again, then into a thin, delicate snowflake, then into a small cat. Rogue watched the whole time, head tilted to the side, entranced by the movements.

“You can do it black?” they asked, looking down at their own hands.  

Gray frowned. “Black?” Rogue touched Gray’s forearm and his eyes widened as he realized they meant the devil slayer marks.

“That’s sort of—”

“Like mine.” Rogue held his palm out next to Gray’s and a tiny, black wisp appeared. “See?” Gray watched as it flickered and twisted, then dropped back down onto Rogue’s hand. A bit of it spread out under their skin for a moment, just like the marks on Gray’s arms. “It’s only little cause I did a big one and it scareded Yukino but it was an accident. I didn’t mean to.”

The uncertainty and shame in Rogue’s voice made Gray’s heart ache.

“I’m sure she was just surprised,” he reassured Rogue. Then he pushed away his exhaustion and slowly pulled at the devil slayer magic until a pattern of dark marks swirled across his arms. The soft blue glow in his palms darkened as he focused the magic, keeping it from overwhelming him. He jumped when he felt something on his wrist, but it was just Rogue’s fingertips, tracing the pattern of the marks.

“Show me yours again,” Gray said, nudging Rogue’s hands. They hesitated, then held up their palm next to Gray’s, summoning another wisp of shadow that danced along their fingers. “You can make it bigger,” Gray said. Rogue gave him a dubious look. “It’s okay, I promise.”

“’kay.” Rogue squirmed forward, bringing their other hand up as the shadow grew, spiraling and flickering until it was nearly the size of a house cat. Gray nudged it with his own magic, drawing the shadow into the cloud of dark snowflakes.

“See?” He smiled at the delighted expression on Rogue’s face. “It’s not scary. It’s pretty.” The marks on his arms shifted again and he felt the magic trying to stretch. “What should we make?” he asked, trying to ignore the sensation.

“A frog?” Rogue asked. “I like frogs.”

Gray laughed, shifting his magic alongside Rogue’s and molding it into the shape of a small frog that fit in the palm of their hand. Instead of the bright, clear blue from the other day, this one was deep purple, with wisps of shadow twisted inside the ice. It was beautiful, in a strange way.

“Thank you.” Rogue tipped their head onto Gray’s shoulder, letting out a happy sigh and snuggling close as they ran their fingers over the frog. He exhaled, letting the magic sink back into his skin as he wrapped his arm around Rogue again.

They sat in silence for a while as Gray watched Natsu and Sting. Natsu had moved to sit cross-legged on the ground and Sting was in his lap, still red-eyed but no longer crying. The soft, fond feelings that Gray tried so hard to keep to himself surfaced easily as he watched the two of them. Natsu’s smile was genuine and his hands were gentle, and he was beautiful in the shadows of the setting sun.

“All right, you two,” Natsu said eventually, standing and scooping Sting into his arms. “Oof, you’re heavy.”

“I’m five,” Sting said, managing to look indignant even while wrapping his arms around Natsu’s neck. “That’s big.”

“That is big,” Natsu agreed, giving Gray a soft smile as he stood as well, holding a sleepy Rogue in his arms. “Now, let’s go find Yukino.”

[concealeddarkness13]

WHG Post Games Nesri Part 5

Tagging: @ratracechronicler (also thanks for Elvira and Rebecca!), @maple-writes (also thanks for Asher and Cirrus!), @nightskywriter, @rhikasa, @pen-of-roses (also thanks for Rowan!), @aeslin-writes, @the-moving-finger-writes, @knmartinshouldbewriting, @makeitmonstrous, and @timefirewrites!

Zenith glanced at the overturned furniture and crossed his arms. “Now, we’ve got to get this furniture back to where it was before.”

I shook my head. “Nah. It’s more comfortable this way.”

No one objected. Rowan asked if anyone wanted food, and they went into the kitchen to make the food. I followed to make some more popcorn for the extra special announcement. When I came back into the living room, Asher and Cirrus were sitting beside each other. I grinned at them and sat on the other side of Cirrus, and I offered him some popcorn as I turned on the TV. Rebecca had moved to the chair she had sat in previously, and Elvira was sitting on the floor in front of her.

The stupid Capitol fanfare started up, and I sighed and leaned against Cirrus, glancing over at him to make sure it was okay. He didn’t seem to mind. Caesar was standing up, energizing the crowd as Evie and Lynn were seated behind him. They looked profoundly uncomfortable as another “wonderful” guest sat beside them. President Snow, the smug bastard, was smiling vaguely at the crowd.

Caesar laughed. “Welcome to another special interview! This time, our esteemed President Snow has decided to join us! So, let’s get going!” I frowned as he looked over at Snow, across Evie and Lynn. Were they just props? Why were they even here? “So, I heard that you are planning something special for the tributes who survived the arena!”

President Snow laughed. “I want to celebrate the ones who survived the arena: the Victor: Poli, Lynn, and Evelynne by hosting a party with them as special guests.” The crowd roared.

“How generous, putting them on display like prizes or cattle for the Capitol to fawn over even more, and here I had somehow believed they couldn’t sink any lower,” Rowan muttered. Asher nodded.

Caesar waited for the crowd to quiet down before continuing. “But it’s not going to be just any party, is it? Could you give us all the juicy details?”

“This party will actually be a cruise on my personal yachts, and the party will last two nights, with special guests being able to stay overnight near the tributes who survived the arena. And this was suggested by Alastair, who will also be a special guest at the party. It will be a themed party. Everyone is encouraged to dress as a pirate to fit the theme.” Evie hid a smile behind her hand at the announcement, and I grinned as the crowd roared again.

Rebecca sat up straighter. “I bet my stylist influenced that choice cuz of me.”

I laughed as Cirrus looked excited. “This is brilliant! Triel won’t believe it!” I grabbed out my phone and texted her about the cruise and the costumes.

Rowan looked thoughtful. “That’s good, Lynn can swim, he’s a very strong swimmer, that’s very good.”

“Captain Skeates will likely turn up uninvited,” Elvira muttered, rubbing one of her temples. I felt a thrill at that. Triel had mentioned Captain Skeates in the past.

Asher looked thoughtful. “Does he mean, on the ocean?”

I shrugged, trying to remember what Triel said about the geography of the Capitol. “Probably at the lake neighboring the Capitol. I hope they wouldn’t go to such extremes to go on the ocean. But, this is the Capitol, so I could be wrong.”

Zenith nodded. “The president’s yachts are outfitted to go on the lake.” He looked embarrassed and added quickly, mumbling, “I was invited there when I was working for the Capitol before.”

“They won’t recognize you and give us away, will they?” Elvira asked carefully.

He paused. “”The only people I really interacted with before I left was my team and some high ups in the Capitol. If I avoid them, I should be safe. Well, as safe as a former tribute could be. Any other person would recognize me as a former tribute instead.” Rebecca winced and nodded at that.

“Yeah, but that’s also a problem, isn’t it?” Cirrus added. “If they know we’re all tributes?”

I waved it off. “Triel has the best disguises.” Then added in a mumble. “But she’ll probably make us all wear wide brimmed hats and long coats.”

“For your entire faces?” Elvira asked.

I nodded. “She knows how to hide in plain sight. The hats will help too.”

Cirrus sighed. “We’re all going to look like umbrellas with those hats.”

I laughed. “Nah. The hats always flatter the person wearing them. I think you, especially, will look good dressed as a pirate.”

“It’s umbrellas or being spotted and as someone who’s done my best to avoid being noticed, I’d rather be an umbrella.” Rowan winced. “Though I’ve never actually stayed hidden for long.”

“Fine.” Cirrus leaned back into the couch. “If I have to.”

Caesar, luckily, had to wait longer for the crowd to quiet down. “So, how does one get these special tickets? And regular tickets, for that matter!”

Snow clasped his hands and smirked at the camera. “You will sign up for a drawing, and you will be pulled from the pool at a later date. Think of it as our own Hunger Games.” He chuckled at that. “Only fifty lucky guests will be able to stay overnight.”

My phone buzzed. It was a message from Triel. I relayed it to the rest of them. “Triel says this is fortunate for us. She’ll be able to get costumes for all of us. And she says that Alastair already contacted her, saying that he pulled some strings and secured the special guest tickets for us.”

“And we’ll be overstaying our welcome.” Rebecca chuckled darkly.

“Well, that’s part of the plan taken care of. ‘Our own Hunger Games.’ I’ve known animals with more humanity,” Rowan said.

I grinned. “And we get to screw with them and show them how stupid and not in control the are! Excellent!”

“That’s a lot of days undercover.” Asher was looking nervous. “There’s a lot that can happen.”

Zenith was frowning. “So, we go in our disguises, stay overnight, and what? How are we going to get them out from under the Capitol’s nose? And how many people are we going to get? I would assume the other person they showed off, Laurel I think, will be there too. Who knows who else will be there?” His eyes flickered over to me. “What if Churi is there?”

I kept my face neutral, even as I tensed against Cirrus. “Then I’ll avoid him.”

He shook his head. “What if you can’t?”

Cirrus shrugged. “Beat the shit out of him if he gets close?”

While I appreciated the sentiment, that wouldn’t work. I swallowed hard. “He’s not exactly a…physical being. It won’t work as well as you’d like. He can recover from any injury to his physical body in a second.” I looked over at Zenith. “I could ask you the same question with avoiding your team. But…I’ll try to figure it out.”

Elvira cut in. “We can spend the first day doing recon on our targets, then split ourselves between them to spring them simultaneously, hopefully with guards of our own to spare for whatever goes wrong.”

Zenith nodded, tearing his scrutinizing eyes away from me. “That is a good plan.”

I took a deep breath, composing myself. I forced a smile. “We’ll have to blend in. And that means dance lessons! Who’s already learned?” In the background, Caesar was asking Evie and Lynn what they thought about the party, and they were giving the expected, fake excited responses.

Zenith raised his hand. “Arque thought it was good training.”

Rowan raised their hand. “From my mother.”

Rebecca’s mouth dropped open. “That means dance lessons, why?”

I laughed. “Because we have to pretend we’re fancy Capitol idiots. We have to act the part. They depend on dancing for their daily exercise.”

Rebecca thought about it, grabbed her sword, swung out her leg, and made a motion as if to chop off her own leg. She already had the dramatic part down for pretending to be a Capitol idiot. Elvira sighed and pulled the sword away. “I’ll teach you. Behave and I’ll even let you lead.” Rebecca scowled but lowered both the sword and her leg.

Cirrus smiled at Rebecca. “I’ve never danced like this before but it can’t be that hard.”

“Speak for yourself,” Asher added. “I had to do it once way back in school and it didn’t go well.”

I leaned forward and grinned at both of them. “I can be your lead while Triel teaches!”

Zenith frowned. “So, we have the costumes, the dance lessons, and the tickets. Is there anything that we’re missing?”

“Snorkels?” Rebecca suggested. “How’re we gonna bail once we got the bounty? Is it a hit-and-run-and-hope-we-can-outrun-them thing, or do we try and keep it quiet and let them figure it out in the morning?”

Shine texted my phone, and I relayed their message. (Yeah, the author did not know that Shine was nonbinary, preferring he/him and they/them pronouns until last week, and Shine had indicated that they preferred they/them currently over he/him today). I relayed the message. “I have a machine that can keep our airship invisible, so we can get away without the Capitol noticing if you can figure out how to sneak them onto the airship.”

“If it’s a fancy yacht it should have an open air deck or something, right?” Asher leaned forward to look at me. “Could we pull them up from there?”

I nodded. “That would work, if the deck is crowded. If we want to be sneaky about it.”

“Definitely a lido deck at least, and they should cover the pool overnight to prevent drunken passengers from falling in. Whether they actually will remains to be seen,” Elvira pointed it out.

“Right, it’ll be a possibly crowded ship.” Rowan ran a hand through their hair.

“Maybe we can push some of them in before we leave,” I mumbled before I spoke louder. “That would work too! Shine will be piloting the airship, and he can bring it anywhere we need it.” I looked over at Rowan. “Then we’ll just have to make sure that they’re all drunk before we head out!” I gave him a thumbs up while I grinned.

They laughed a little uneasily. “If anything, having them drunk might make it worse and they’ll accidentally stumble in on us.”

“They won’t understand what they’re seeing, and then they’ll forget it all by morning!” I said.

“We can lure them away by smuggling some moonshine aboard and whispering that to a few people and make sure the word gets around by telling people not to tell anyone,” Rebecca offered. “Stash it or distribute it far off from the pickup point or the targets or whatever, huh?”

Zenith nodded. No hint of a smile or levity. Wow. “That would work. The Capitol citizens are suckers for alcohol. But I’m worried that the captured tributes might have too many visitors overnight.”

“Why shouldn’t such visitors include ourselves if we are, after all, esteemed guests from the Capitol?” Elvira asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It could lead to the Capitol learning they’re gone sooner than we’d like,” Zenith said.

“If they’re something more entertaining they’ll probably flock towards it.” Cirrus shrugged. “Might give us an opening.”

“That’s a good point, we need to make sure there is enough time to actually get everyone, somehow get everyone to the same spot, get rid of the shockers, and get away,” Rowan said. Rebecca winced at the mention of the shockers.

Zenith cocked an eyebrow. “What could we do that would be more interesting than the stars of the party?”

“Man overboard?” Cirrus suggested.

Brilliant! And at the same time Rebecca, me, and Asher spoke.

“Caesar overboard,” Rebecca breathed, with stars in her eyes.

I grinned. “President Snow overboard!”

Asher grinned. “President overboard?”

Rowan considered the suggestions. “Alright, how do we get  to the most important person on the ship to push him over?”

Rebecca rubbed her chin, thinking, but I spoke up first. I eyed Elvira. “The non-tributes. Triel and Elvira won’t be as easily recognized, so they should be able to get closer. How about that?”

A faint smile played on Elvira’s lips. “I accept.”

Perfect! Everything was getting figured out well! Just as I thought that, Rowan paled. “I just had a truly terrible thought that I hope is years of paranoia speaking and has no actual basis in reality because how could it right?”

Zenith tensed. “What was it?”

“What do they know about us escaping?”

“The Capitol probably didn’t tell them the truth about what happened to us. They could actually be using us against them.”

“Like, our friends think we got captured too, maybe, and the Cap’s threatening us, so that’ll keep them obedient? Or something like that?” Rebecca asked, sounding confused.

Zenith nodded. “Possibly. I’ve heard of the Capitol doing it before.”

“Would they believe us if we told them we aren’t captured?” Asher asked. “Or would they be suspicious?”

“Would the Capitol at all expect us to be looking to help them?” Rowan asked.

All this guesswork went way over what I wanted to think about. So, I just stayed quiet. Zenith nodded, looking thoughtful. “I think we could prove to them that we weren’t captured. We don’t have shockers like they do, for example. But Rowan brings up a good point. The Capitol will be expecting us to do something. Alastair getting extra tickets for special guests could already look suspicious to them.”

“Or I could be wrong really, that’s still a possibility, after all they’re the Capitol maybe they think they’re invincible and, Goddess, please let me be wrong.” Rowan runs a hand through their hair.

“If they’re expecting us to be active in undermining them, I feel they would’ve found us by now—or at least we’d know they were looking,” Elvira pointed out calmly. “The fact that we haven’t been approached means we aren’t seen as a threat.”

I sat up and nodded, actually trying to look serious. “That’s a good point, and also, we’ve already defied the Capitol once, when they were watching. We can do it again!” I smiled now. “Zenith knows all these people, so he can just scowl at them, and they’d be intimidated!”

He scowled at me, and I was super intimidated. “That wouldn’t work. Most of them don’t know me.”

“You don’t need to recognize the caliber of the bullet in your skull before it can kill you,” Rebecca snorted.

Cirrus shrugged. “If we don’t get recognized we don’t have to worry about suspicious anyway, right?” He glanced at me. “If Triel can disguise us all we have to do is act the part.” He paused. “How many of you have been to anything like this? Any of you know how to order a servant to do something for you without sticking out?”

“Usually the one being ordered,” Rowan muttered.

Zenith frowned. “Kind of. But I wouldn’t be too proficient at sounding rich. I was there as a soldier.”

I laughed. “I have no idea. Triel knows from pretending to be rich to get information, though.”

Rebecca cringed, chewing on knuckle. “I’ve…seen it happen. If that counts. I stalked an upper-class guy for two years cuz I thought we were in love. It’s morbidly fascinating. They just play gods twenty-four-seven.”

Cirrus nodded. “We’ll work on it then.” He smirked. “I was a prince once, you know.”

Asher laughed. “And an entitled ass.”

Rowan frowned. “You were? Wait, right, not important right now.”

“Technically still am, but it’s a long story.”Cirrus sighed.

Wow. Made more sense why he lost his cool so easily when I teased him during the fight. I grinned. “Thankfully, you’re not one of the annoying ones. At least not too annoying.”

“Do you play harpsichord?” Rebecca whispered suspiciously.

Cirrus twisted to face her. “The what?”

She relaxed. “You’re fine.”

Cirrus looked confused, but shook it off. “Anyway, I can help you out with that.” He pointed at Rowan. “You and Asher especially.”

Aw. I wasn’t part of the list. He believed in me. I grinned. “I’ll throw popcorn at you during your training, and you’ll have to ignore it!”

“Me?” Rowan asked.

Cirrus nodded. “You’re…” He thought for a little bit. “You seem like a considerate person and all but you don’t want to come off as too nice, not in front of the other guests.”

“Of course that’s the reason.” Rowan sighed but nodded.

I nodded, but my eyes were starting to feel heavy, and my brain was moving slower. “So, that’s all figured out! We can get started tomorrow. I’ll have to make sure to make a lot of popcorn!”

Cirrus mumbled something about me eating too much popcorn, but he agreed. I just made sure to make a face at him before we left to go to our own rooms.

[kisskissbanggang]

Surreptitious

[15min. Read/3.7k words -- Mystery Member👀xFemale Reader -- Idol!AU, NSFW/Smut -- Spoilers in Tags, Dubcon, Ethical Grey Areas, Paranoia, Dirty Secrets, Stuck/Trapped]

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You don’t really think I’d be like that, do you?

The cryptic message echoed in your mind as you worked. Someone in this very home knew what you didn’t even think you’d have to hide, and you couldn’t begin to figure out who. The anonymous message had shown up a couple nights ago – long after you’d stopped posting on your blog. Nearly half a year ago, you came on your student visa and packed up your blog, taking a small hiatus from this hobby that took up so much of your time. You loved learning everything you could about Korea, especially after already spending years learning the language. However, it wasn’t long before spending money was tight, and it looked like it may be time for a part-time job. Housekeeping wasn’t your first, or second, or even tenth choice, but here you were.

A couple months into your new job, and you were handed a new assignment: a few days a week at a high-profile home. What you weren’t prepared for, though, was whose home. The door opened and after you brought in some of your cleaning supplies, you finally caught glimpse of one of your clients… And nearly fell over. You were positive that out of the corner of your eye you just seen Jung Jaehyun. But that clearly couldn’t be the case, right?

Wrong. Sure enough, you met most of the members that day, doing a much better job than you’d hoped you would in containing how ridiculous this all was. Being a housekeeper for NCT was, quite honestly, something that sounded like the worst fan-fiction on the planet, which is what ultimately led to you revisiting your blog.

You had started writing fanfiction a couple years ago, just something fun to take your mind off the stress of school that would keep you mentally stimulated. The emergence of smut, however, was unexpected. You had gone through a rut of stress, anxiety over school and work, and too much inconvenient arousal, that it all culminated in a particularly surprising way during the process of a fic you had been stuck in. The reception to it was equally surprising, your followers both new and old voicing their approval of this direction. That development made it even harder to put the blog down, so you decided not to delete it. You never regretted it… Until now.

Admittedly, it was your new assignment that made you curious to visit your old blog. Would it feel eerie, actually knowing these boys in real life? Of course, you had also been excited to see what all your old friends had been up to, what everyone thought of any new developments since you’d been away, but now you were growing concerned that you would hate everything you’d done. You checked your notifications, the comments on your posts. The messages that had stacked up in your inbox were mostly sweet, though some were from antsy followers who were curious if and when you would return. Then, there was the message that was now currently bothering you.

You don’t really think I’d be like that, do you?

The wording perturbed you. It felt immediately unlikely that it was a typo. Was someone playing a joke on you? It was obviously referring to something you’d written, but what? The idea that it was one of the members certainly came to mind, but it seemed to be too ludicrous to be true. However, now that the thought was planted, it grew weeds quickly. You took solace in the fact that even if it were one of the members, they would have no way of knowing it was you… Right?

You had been scrubbing the hardwood in the living room when your worry really began taking shape. You were so engrossed in your work, frustrated in a particularly stubborn stain in the wood grain that you hadn’t noticed Yuta walk in, apparently amused at your focus. Only when he sat on the couch did you notice, startled into yelping and falling back on your ass.

“Jumpy, noona?” Yuta laughed, his warm smile offering more sympathy than his joke implied. You smiled back until you noticed he was holding up his phone.

“You didn’t catch that on camera, did you?” You nervously joked as you turned back to your work.

Yuta shook his head. “Oh! No, I’m just reading. Have you ever seen some of the stuff our fans write about us?”

You almost fell over again. “No,” you vaguely chuckled, “like what? Fan-fiction?”

“No,” Yuta replied, “I found this message board where this fan is picking apart all the outfits we wear to the airport. It’s interesting, but I really just threw on something from the rack.”

“Oh!” You quickly recovered, “But that begs the question: do you ever read fan-fiction?”

You turned back to see Yuta shrug from over your shoulder. “Not all of it. Just what’s written in Japanese or Korean. If it’s not translated well, a lot of it gets lost. And I never get paired up with Jaehyun for some reason. I’d read that no matter what language it’s in.”

The two of you had shared a laugh over his observation, but you felt a little sick until you got home that night. All your fics were written in English, but now you were absolutely never translating them. If you even kept your blog, that is. It felt oddly needling to have confirmation that any of the members really did read fan-fiction. You pulled open the blog again that night to see if, in fact, Yuta’s suggested pairing really didn’t exist, when you saw a new message.

So do you think of me when you write about me?

This was clearly a joke by some fan and you were insane to think otherwise. And, again, even if a member had found your blog, which was still so unlikely, they had no way of knowing it was you running it. Anyhow, what a silly question to propose. Of course you thought about each member you wrote about, but now those almost affectionate thoughts were laced with guilt.

The next day you were at the dorm, you had taken a few minutes before catching your bus home to relax, to collect your thoughts and breathe. You were enjoying a quick glass of wine in the kitchen, something the boys had regularly offered at the end of your day since you’d started here, and you hadn’t even noticed Johnny enter the room until you turned away from the counter. You yelped and nearly dropped your glass, much to Johnny’s chagrin.

“Are you okay?” Johnny asked, sweet as ever. “You seem tense.”

“Oh! No, no, just a lot on my mind.”

Johnny walked over and opened the fridge. “Anything you want to talk about?”

“No, it’s okay,” you reassured. Johnny smiled warmly as he retrieved a soda from the fridge, popping it open and taking a sip as he turned to leave. “Well…” You bit at your lip as he paused, expectantly waiting. “This is such a dumb question, but your fans seem so… Passionate. Do you ever read what they write about you?”

Johnny thought about it and shrugged. “I try not to, to tell you the truth. It goes to my head or weirds me out, and no in between. But I’m glad they think I’d be a good dad. I want to be when I’m ready.” Johnny turned and left, leaving you to finish off your wine in silence as you thought.

The bus ride had been annoying, your mind clogged with what Johnny had said and feeling even dirtier and guiltier. Which response would your own writing stir in him? He’d said there’s no in between. If he’d ever found your work, would he be cocky or disgusted? And, above all that, now you were haunted by Johnny’s only real takeaway had been that the fans appreciated how much he wanted to have a family. What a good guy. And you had written filthy scenarios about him. You felt queasy for the rest of the trip home.

Another message had been waiting for you when you got home and opened your blog, your curiosity begging you to find something wholesome about Johnny starting a family.

You do know that you posted a picture with that bag you wear to the dorm, right?

You knew exactly what picture the message was referring to and went to go find it. The last thing you’d posted before putting the blog down was a photo of this very room, the caption simply “My new home for the next year.” Sure enough, there was your stupid bag sitting by the door. You felt so dumb. You felt so disgusting. You felt so exposed. Someone in the dorm really did know. Did you rather it be one of the members, or one of the staff, a possibility you’d barely dared consider? Your blog stared back at you, imploring you to put it out of its misery and delete it. No, you decided. No more childish paranoia. You would go to the dorm and figure out who was sending the messages, and then have a good conversation about what they would like you to do.

Then again, in all honesty, you should’ve expected this to be much harder than it sounded. The next time you were at the dorm, you inspected everyone’s faces for a knowing look of some kind and came up short. You had even changed out the bag you brought to the dorm, hoping to catch the attention of your mysterious messenger, but to no avail. It would’ve helped to feel bold enough to actually talk and figure it out, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. What would you even say? I’ve written graphic porn about the group but please let me keep my job didn’t exactly have a nice ring to it.

You helped yourself to a glass of wine once the house appeared empty in the afternoon. Everyone was out, running errands or busy with schedules, leaving you time and room to take down the curtains and wash them. You had just piled one set of curtains into the dryer in the small laundry room when you were finally relaxing and taking your break. Maybe you even had an opportunity to lightly snoop, to observe the living spaces and rooms and see if you could suss out who your anonymous friend was. Your planning was cut short, however.

“Did you come today since I was staying home?” Someone chuckled behind you, cut short as you whipped around in surprise, sending your wine glass all over Jaehyun’s chest and then clanging onto the floor. You sighed exasperatedly, immediately grabbing a roll of paper towels and blotting up the wine. “Oh, noona, I’m so sorry,” Jaehyun apologized, stooping down and helping you clean. You shook your head, not thinking as you hurried before the stain set in. You quickly diluted the remnants before wiping it up.

“Just because you were my bias, Jaehyun, doesn’t mean I’m trying to get you alone,” you laughed. Both yours and his ears turned red as you realized what a horribly inappropriate joke that was. “Oh, god, Jaehyun,” you winced, “I’m sorry. That was gross and uncalled for. Here,” you gestured down the hall to the laundry room, “I’m doing some laundry. You can bring me your shirt and I’ll clean it for you.”

“Really? Thank you.” Jaehyun smiled slyly before pulling the soaked shirt over his head and handing it to you. “I’m always surprised by how gracious our fans are,” he smirked, with a wink to top it off.

“What were you doing in here anyway?” You asked quietly to mask the waver in your voice. Jaehyun took another step closer, the subtle heat coming off his bare chest making you back up into the counter. He reached up and opened a cupboard before pulling down a box.

“Nothing,” he nonchalantly shrugged as he opened the box, “just grabbing a snack. Want some?” You could hear Jaehyun laugh quietly to himself behind you as you hurried down the hall, still blushing crimson as you rushed to the laundry room.

What the good hell was that about? Your thoughts ran wild as you yanked the dry curtains from the dryer and put the next set in before vigorously cleaning Jaehyun’s shirt for him. You were just getting the washing together when you realized the dryer wouldn’t start. Frantic, you checked to make sure the damn thing was plugged in and on in the first place, and then that the lint trap was clear. You opened the dryer, kneeling down to look inside. The curtain had snagged on the vent in the back of the dryer drum. Cursing to yourself, you elbowed your way into the dryer, trying to see in the dim light as you attempted to free the fabric without further damaging it.

Soon you were yanking at the dumb thing, trying to hold it together amidst all your frustration. Had Jaehyun really made you so flustered? Why did he suddenly ambush you today after having hardly interacted with you since you began here? All these questions swirled around your mind, distracting you more than enough until you were startled by something pushing you firmly further into the dryer. You cried out, muffled as you fell into the damp curtains, your exclamation continuing as you felt a pair of hands grip onto your waist.

Jaehyun exhaled a soft laugh behind you. “Why didn’t you tell me I was your bias, noona? We probably could’ve become fast friends if I’d known I’m your favorite.”

“Jaehyun,” you called back, “I’m sorry for what I said! It was horribly unprofessional. You can let me out now.”

“And,” Jaehyun continued, “I’m willing to bet that if I’m your bias, then you definitely do think about me when you write your little stories about me.”

“You!” You shrieked, surprised at your own fortitude as you struggled in Jaehyun’s grip. He still held fast, chuckling to himself in satisfaction. “You’re the one that’s been messing with me!”

“And you’re the one who’s been a bit naughty, haven’t you?” Jaehyun laughed behind you.

“Now who’s being inappropriate?” You asked accusingly. Jaehyun ignored you. His hips pressed into you, sending shivers straight through to your fingertips.

“I wonder if you get off on it,” he mused quietly, his thumbs massaging under the waistband of your jeans. “I wonder if you get excited, writing your fantasies.”

“What are you doing?” You asked nervously as Jaehyun teased the waist of your jeans lower onto your hips.

“I’m just acting the way you write me in your stories,” he said matter-of-factly, “you’ve thought about this, haven’t you?”

“I mean, of course I have,” you stammered, eyes widening as you felt Jaehyun stiffen behind you, “but that’s different, that’s just–”

“Online?” He countered. “In your stories? Sure. But this is real life. Wouldn’t you be crazy to pass this up? What, do you not want to?”

“I…” You trailed off as you thought, “No, it’s not that I don’t want to, I just–”

“If you don’t want to, we don’t have to. I can just tell the staff that they hired a pervert,” Jaehyun laughed heartily as he easily stilled your sudden thrashing. “Calm down,” he admonished, “I’m just joking.”

“It’s not funny when it’s my job you’re talking about,” you bit back.

“But it is funny that it was me who found out. The guys wouldn’t be as into it. So feel relieved, because I would,” Jaehyun prodded you along, making you jump as his hands circled your waist to unbutton your jeans. His fingers were surprisingly gentle as he slid them down to your knees, traveling back up to softly touch the growing damp spot on your panties. “Do you know how much I’ve been thinking of this?” He asked quietly, almost a whisper.

“You have?” You shivered as he took his time pushing your panties down to your knees as well.

“Of course I have,” he replied, keeping a hand pressed down on the small of your back as he pushed his sweats down enough to let his cock spring free, “don’t you realize how excited I was when I realized you were who I was certain you are?”

You bit into your lip as Jaehyun firmly rubbed his length against your ass. “But I stopped writing,” you meekly offered.

“Why?” Jaehyun asked, groaning quietly as he teased the head of his cock against your dripping entrance. “Isn’t this the sort of thing your followers would go crazy over?”

You gasped sharply, reactively pushing your back hand against Jaehyun’s thigh as he worked his length into you. He waited a moment to see if you were adjusted before grabbing your hand and pulling it up behind your back. You both shared a moan as he nestled deep inside you. The whole scene must’ve looked surreal, your ass hanging out of the clothes dryer and Jaehyun holding you down to fuck you. He was right. Your followers would kill for this opportunity, or at least experience it the way you’d write it.

“Why am I always so rough in your writing?” Jaehyun asked, almost casually as he fucked you. “Do you really think I’m like that?”

You groaned as Jaehyun rocked you firm against the dryer walls. “No, it’s not that,” you struggled, “it’s that you have this confidence that suggests it,” you managed to get out between moans, “they’re really drawn to it… I’m really drawn to it.”

Jaehyun groaned deep at your words, his grip on the arm behind your back tightening as he thrust harder. You found yourself spreading your legs further. His length really filled you out, gave you just enough stretch in a way you’d only wondered about.

“Why were you so excited for this?” You asked. You’d already crossed so many lines, you may as well get answers.

“Wouldn’t you be? Someone who clearly likes you and thinks of you like that, it just makes sense to want to make it happen.”

“Sounds about right,” you mused to yourself, masked through moans as Jaehyun’s hips snapped against you. His other hand ran up your back to your hair, gripping tight at the root and tugging in time with his thrusts. He finally dropped your arm from his grasp, instead reaching down to rub your clit. You responded eagerly, angling your hips to get a better angle from both sensations and quickly contributing to your building orgasm.

“You sound so cute when you moan, baby,” Jaehyun said, “I never expected you to sound so dirty and adorable.”

You blushed deep again, yelping as Jaehyun let go of your hair to smack and grab onto your ass. His fingers smoothly circled your clit, slick with how aroused he made you. Even though you were more aware of it now, you couldn’t stop from moaning louder, your peak steadily building whether you wanted it or not. He gently pinched and rolled your clit between his fingers, surprising you into hitting your climax. Your dripping pussy clamped onto his cock, pulsing and milking him as you whimpered and moaned through your orgasm.

“Is that how you wanted me to fuck you, baby?” Jaehyun asked, voice saccharine behind you. You breathed hard, letting yourself come down before pushing him back an inch.

“I want you to fuck me like you would fuck me.”

Jaehyun actually stilled behind you, as if he had to think about that and consider it. He gently pulled you out of the dryer, helping you to stand on your shaky legs before picking you up and setting you on the edge of the machine. He pushed your jeans and panties down to your ankles to more easily spread your legs and step between them. His cock prodded back up against your opening. Jaehyun tentatively lifted your shirt and bra over your breasts, pausing a moment to look before he leaned down and kissed each. He stood back upright, taking a second to look into your eyes before he pressed a single kiss to the crook of your neck. You watched, curious and pleased as he took your face in his hands. Jaehyun kissed you, simply and affectionately as he sank his cock back into your heat. His arms wrapped around you, and you took in his scent as he held you close. His pace was gentler now, but not without the same he’d been maintaining. His surprisingly cute moans were muffled into your shoulder, earnestly growing quicker, more desperate with each thrust. It was easy to feel sweet towards this side of Jaehyun, much more easily approachable than how evilly playful he was just a minute ago.

“Baby, do you want to cum?” You asked nicely in his ear, clutching your knees around his hips as he methodically slid in and out of you.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jaehyun panted, “I’m getting there… But there’s one more thing.”

“What’s that, baby?” You asked.

“I know I always finish inside in your writing, but I hope you understand if I don’t this time.”

You both shared a breathless laugh before his moans hit a fever pitch. Jaehyun’s eyes scrunched shut in his intense pleasure, even as he pulled out. He firmly pumped his cock in his hands, groaning languidly as his cum shot onto the lips of your exhausted pussy. You both rested for a second, your fingers caressing the back of his neck as he caught his breath. He aimed the remnants towards your panties as he pulled them back up to your knees for you.

The air had shifted between the two of you. You knew what had changed, but it was hard to place Jaehyun’s feelings. His expression was a mystery as he adjusted himself back into his sweatpants.

“So…” You prodded, “what now?”

You were both startled as the front door opened, someone outside announcing their return home. You hopped off the dryer and scrambled to make yourself presentable again. The cum in your panties was cold and damp up against you. Jaehyun simply grinned that same playful grin at you.

“I don’t know. How good are you at keeping secrets?”

“Pretty good,” you replied, suddenly wary, “but what about you?”

Jaehyun shook his head as he kissed the top of your head before heading towards the laundry room door. “I’m perfectly fine at it, but what you should really be asking is… why should I?”

You watched, unsure and still painfully excited as he winked and walked out into the hall.

[terrifying-testicles]

Sugar Daddy!Bakugou x Reader Ch. 2

All right you heathens, it’s here! I want you all to know that pretty much all of this gets written in my free time at my internship lol. I was asked to tag someone in future updates, so if you want to be tagged in the future just lemme know!

The outfits mentioned in the fic appear in this order: 1 2 3

Words: 5.8k

_-_-_-_-_

Bakugou stares at his laptop screen, a deep frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. It had been a week since his friends had suggested being a sugar daddy. Sero and Kaminari had been making jokes at his expense any chance they got. Between missions and patrols, texting him horribly lewd memes. The last time it had happened, Kaminari had been two floors below Bakugou. He was awfully surprised when the ash blond barged in on him training, strolled straight over to Kaminari’s gym bag, grabbed his phone and looked him dead in the eyes as he blew it apart. Mouth agape, Kaminari was speechless as he watched Bakugou saunter out smugly. Kirishima had the decency to only bring it up when they were hanging out outside of work, and was serious about it. Sometimes he threw a joke around, but he chose his words wisely. Bakugou grumbles as he drags his hands down his face. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been curious about what it would be like to be a sugar daddy. He scoured forums and read accounts from daddies and babies alike, as well as suggestions. The more he considered it, the more he was into the idea. The only problem now was that Bakugou had no clue what to do about his profile. He’d compared different websites used for arrangements, and once he chose one, he went to sign up but…he was unsure. Grey catches his eye, Bakugou turning his head to find dark orange eyes staring back at him. He sighs through his nose and scoots his computer further down his lap. The cat’s eyes light up and he leaps up, settling against Bakugou’s chest. The hero brings his right hand up to scratch between his ears. “Katsuuuuki!” A shrill voice rings out, followed immediately by the slamming of his door. Bakugou groans loudly. Footsteps echo through his apartment before pink fills the doorway to his bedroom. Mina leans against the door frame, hands on either side, reminding Bakugou of a pin-up girl. “How’s my favorite blasty boy?” she asks, grin full of pearly teeth. “Who the fuck gave you a key?” Mina laughs and strolls towards the bed, reaching out to pet his cat. “Senshi, actually.”

The cat purrs loudly in response. That stupid cat adored Mina, always preferring her over any company if she was present. He wouldn’t put it past the ashy feline if the damn thing wasn’t such an idiot most of the time. Mina looks over to the laptop on Bakugou’s knees and gasps loudly. “Is that a sugar daddy site!?” she shrieks. Bakugou sputters and reaches to slam the screen closed but Mina is already snatching it up and jumping over him to land on the bed with a subdued bounce. Senshi leaps off of Bakugou, the Chartreux settling into Mina’s side, purring not unlike that of a boat. Bakugou scoffs at the traitor. “Give that back, freak!” He reaches for his computer but Mina slaps his hand harshly. “I would if this were a joke and it wasn’t you.” The pinkette fixes Bakugou with a sly look. “So, have you made an account, yet?” Bakugou narrows his eyes. “…no.” Mina squeals. “Good! I can help you, then!” “No way!” Bakugou tries once again to take his laptop and is, yet again, smacked away. “Oh, come on,” she whines. “There’s no way you could make a profile that doesn’t come off as scary or too vague.” “Shut up, just give it back.” “No!” Mina brings her legs under her in a crisscross and turns her back to the blond. Senshi yowls in complaint. “I won’t question your decisions, because let’s face it Katsu, you’re hot as fuck and you’re letting it go to waste! I just want you to be successful in your sugar daddy endeavors.” Bakugou had pressed himself against her back, reaching around to grab the laptop, but stops his struggle as Mina finishes talking. He frowns, staring at the Log In or Sign Up page, mulling over her words. Prideful as he is, Bakugou has to admit she’s not wrong. He’s not the most charming person, and he’s not the best at talking about himself in a way that isn’t pure bravado or defensiveness. Mina, on the other hand, is stupidly charismatic and knows her friends to a terrifying degree. Bakugou growls. “Fine, you can help me, but nothing gets posted unless I say so.” Mina whoops and gets to work signing him up. “Hot stuff?” Bakugou asks incredulously. “I’m not going to make you Lord Explosion.” She quips without taking her eyes away from the screen. He just huffs and settles his chin against her shoulder. “I’m guessing you don’t want others to know you’re a pro hero, right?” Mina feels him nod. “Hmm…” Bakugou glances at her, whose brows are drawn in a determined fashion, lips pursed. After a moment she grins and begins typing away, Bakugou barely able to keep up with her wild key strokes. “Hey, don’t make me sound too cocky.” he snaps. Mina rolls her eyes and deletes a few words before rewriting it. “How’s that, then?” Bakugou gives a scrutinizing look, but Mina knows it’s only for show. When he finally nods, Mina tosses the laptop to the side, earning a surprised sound from the man behind her. “Now we need a picture,” she pulls out her phone. “Normally, I’d say only a partial face pic, but it might be easier to recognize you as a hero that way. Plus, you’ve got a killer profile and it’d be a disservice to every prospective baby to hide it.” Bakugou wants to protest, but Mina’s flattery gets her surprisingly far with him at times. This is one of them, so he just puffs out a tired sigh and gestures for her to continue. “To the balcony!”

It’s well past dark when Bakugou finally manages to usher his friend out. Living in the same building as her proved to be a test of his patience on many occasions. Since he got her out, he’s been busying himself with browsing through profiles of women in his area. He’s not sure how to approach anyone on here and suddenly wishes he hadn’t kicked Mina out. Some babies play up the innocence, reminding him of actual adolescent girls, so Bakugou avidly avoids those profiles. Some express their sex appeal loudly, which is definitely not what he’s looking for. He’s getting ready to throw the damn laptop when a familiar face catches his eye. Bakugou clicks on ‘AngelEnergi’ and blanches at the picture. [h/c] ringlets cascading delicately over [s/c] shoulders and exposed collarbone, framing [e/c] eyes and pouty lips. A beautiful sigh, but all Bakugou can see is the mocking face of the woman who took his job into her hands. Bakugou can’t believe his luck, jaw clenching at the embarrassing memory. Her face had been haunting him all week, anger at her actions flaring up at full force and— And what? What could he do? Bakugou isn’t the kind of person to turn her in for unlawful quirk use when she still saved someone. He wasn’t going to message her just to bitch her out, either. In all honesty, he’d been intrigued by her. Loathe as he was to admit it, whatever drove her to act as if a pro hero, while irritating, was still attractive. Not everyone is made to be a hero, but she stepped up, despite the risk she faced. It’s an admirable trait. Bakugou takes a breath to level himself. He scrolls down and looks at her full profile. ‘You can call me Angel, though I may not always be one ;) I’m 23 and work all day in a lab, so from time to time I’d like a little luxury on the side. I’m great conversation and don’t mind being pure arm candy. I’m sweet enough~ My arrangements are preferred to be nonsexual. If you’d like to work something out, just give me a time and place for dinner – has to be somewhere public! – and I will let you know if I’m interested. My available times are below.’ Bakugou glances over the times before opening up her photo album. Beside her profile picture, there’s one of her in a blue, form-fitting evening gown, and another of her in a lingerie set from only the neck down. Bakugou flushes at the last one, quickly clicking out of it. Sure, she’d put the picture up willingly, but he wasn’t one to ogle unless they were face to face. That thought sends the hero into a full force blush that extends down his neck and across the tip of his ears. Senshi pads across the couch and nestles himself against Bakugou’s thigh. Said man scratches the cat’s head with a long sigh. “What do you think?” He glances down at his furry companion, who gives a full-body purr. Bakugou snorts. “Of course you do.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………

You open the bathroom door, steam pouring out into her living room. You step out, towel around your chest and are wrapping another around your hair to set atop your head. You smile at the dog lying on his back in the armchair, snoring loudly. You start to head for your room when your phone dings. Curious, you cross to the coffee table and wake up your phone. The screen lights up with two notifications. You swipe away the game alert, but your thumb hovers over the alert from the dating site. ‘HotStuffZero has sent you a message.’ You raise your eyebrows. It’s been a bit since anyone has messaged you, so you’re somewhat surprised by the late-night contact. You tap the notification and unlock your phone. The message just says, “Friday @ 6” and a link. When you check it, you see it’s an upscale restaurant only a twenty minute train ride from where you live. You tap on the profile and can’t help the way you smile at the handsome face before you. His profile picture is of the man’s side profile, looking out at a presumed skyline, if the cityscape backdrop is anything to go by. His pale blond hair is wild, but his face is stern, all angles. You can’t help but admire the cut of his jaw for a moment. It’s the only picture on his profile so you move on to his bio. ’24, Taurus, feisty. Looking for someone to spoil with gifts and take to events. If you’re seeking out fancy dinner dates, extravagant galas, and no-limit shopping sprees, then let me know. No expectations.’ He’s young, you think. You had yet to meet a sugar daddy on here younger than mid-thirties. It was a pleasant surprise, though the last bit confused you. No expectations? Of me or of him? Either way, you could handle whatever came your way. You returned to your messages and shot off a quick “See you there” before locking your phone and throwing it atop the coffee table. This should be fun.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Bakugou really wasn’t a fan of upscale restaurants like this. Sure, he could afford it, had more than enough money to enjoy bougie spots and high-end meals, but he surely didn’t have the patience for the pompous pricks sat around him. They’d pay him no mind until he opened his mouth, then suddenly everyone within earshot was aghast, but would listen intently as if filling up their gossip arsenal. An ideal date for him would be set at home where he could cook a meal far better than some high-strung chef. Yet, all that he hates about these upscale places are exactly why he’s here, right? To show that he could afford something to ostentatious, that he was more than capable of spoiling his potential baby with absolute ease. Bakugou frowns, realizing he still doesn’t know her name. He can ask once she shows up, but he hates not knowing more about her beforehand. He likes having eh ball in his court, with every advantage he can manage. He made it here half an hour before their set time, with a seat near the back of the restaurant to give him a perfect view of the door and most of the establishment. He already has a wine picked out, waiting until she gets here to order it. Hell, he even knows that they’ve met before, while as far as she is aware he’s nothing but a stranger. Checking his phone, he sighs. Still fifteen minutes before they’d agreed to meet. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so early. His nerves are high, leg bouncing so badly the table has started a light tremor. It’s just a date, not even with a potential partner, but someone who doesn’t even have to like him, so long as the money is good. Bakugou’s stomach goes sour with that thought.

You shuffle up to the restaurant, anxiety nestled between ribs. The exterior is extravagant, taupe sponged brick and burgundy awnings sprouting forth above arched, stained windows. The doors are a dark oak with bronze in-lays that swirl along the edges. One heavy door is propped open, giving way to an even fancier entrance, the host dressed in a deep red dress, looking all the part of someone who belonged here. So much as you craved a luxurious lifestyle, it was still a foreign concept to you. You hadn’t even made it inside but you already felt like you stood out. You were happy to lounge at home in sweats and a tank top, though pants were optional if you had nothing to do that day. You walk in and take deep breaths through your nose and you approach the host stand. The woman glances up and gives a wide smile. “How may I help you, ma’am?” her tone is sugary, and you’re certain she’s actually genuine, your nerves settling somewhat. “Um, I’m meeting someone.” “Name?” the woman asks, opening up the black leather book on the stand. You bark out a laugh, shifting your weight between feet, and clear your throat. “Actually, I don’t know his name.” The host glances up at you, raising a brow. You bite your lip for a second. You almost make an excuse before wondering why the fuck you care what some host you’ll only meet once draws conclusions about from your dilemma. “He’s blond, spiky hair, very handsome,” you trail off, unsure the hostess would have any cue who you were talking about. “Ah,” the woman leans to the side, glancing around the slatted wall behind her to look across the dining room. She points to the back. “He should be right back there.” You smile and thank the hostess before making your way between tables. You spot him, drinking from a glass of water. He’s wearing a maroon button down, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow and the top two buttons open. The table cloth hides the rest of him but you’re sure he’s sporting nice shoes; he seems the type. He sets down his glass and suddenly vermilion stares back at you. Heat washes over you in a wave, a shy smile pulling at your lips. When you make it to the table he goes to stand, but you hold up a hand to stop him. “It’s fine.” You pull out the chair and sit, taking a deep breath. “I realized I probably should have asked your name.” you laugh. The man across from you curses under his breath. “Bakugou.” You smile “[L/N].” Bakugou clears his throat. “Uh, you look nice.” You were wearing a silver gown, off the shoulder, a quartz studded belt encircling your waist, the rest of the dress cascading in squared off bunches. Bakugou had caught a glimpse of strappy shoes and a toned thigh peeking through the slit in your dress. He was definitely not prepared to be left breathless by this woman. When they met, you were casual and he wanted nothing more than to tear you a new one. Now, you’re elegant and your smile is mesmerizing. Bakugou doesn’t know what to do about it. “So, um,” your voice brings him back. You had one hand on your glass, fingers tracing the condensation. You look nervous, so different from the defiant fire to your eyes from the previous week, and Bakugou is torn between hating it and loving that it’s probably because of him. “I’m not the kind of baby that asks for money up front, just so you know. I don’t want an allowance or anything like that.” “Right to business, huh?” Bakugou leans forward on his elbows, hands clasped in front of his mouth. You shift in your seat at the intensity of his gaze. You laugh curtly. “Yeah, I just like to get all of that out of the way so it’s less awkward when we get to know each other. I hate having it nag at me the whole time.” You take a sip of your water and glance around the restaurant. You don’t understand why you feel so nervous. Maybe because he’s the youngest sugar daddy you’ve met. Maybe it’s the heavy weight of those piercing eyes. Maybe it’s how unbelievably hot he is. Or is it D, all of the above? You think “So, what are you wanting, then?” You blink at him. “Oh, well. I guess I’m just looking to be pampered.” “Why—” “Good evening,” Both of you look at the server. Bakugou curls his lip, irked by the interruption. You greet him kindly before they are asked what they want. Bakugou orders the bottle of wine he’s been waiting for and turns to his date. “Know what you want?” he asks. You blush and quickly snatch the menu up. “No, I’m sorry.” He’s somewhat satisfied by your flustered state. “No worries. I shall return in a moment with your drinks.” The server leaves as quickly as he appeared. You chuckle nervously. “I should’ve checked first, sorry.” “Stop apologizing.” He snaps. He hadn’t meant for it to come out, but it’s become a reflex at this point after years spent shaking Kirishima out of his self-deprecating mindset. You look surprised for a moment, until a sly smile quirks the corner of your mouth. You are suddenly made aware that your date may be less reserved than you originally thought. “You were saying?” you prompt. Bakugou furrows his brows a moment before remembering what you’re referring to. “I was gonna ask why you don’t just date someone instead.” You purse your lips. He’s definitely bold, not holding his tongue for the sake of being polite. You appreciate it. “Well, I spend a lot of time at work and don’t really want to invest myself in looking for someone and settling down. I can’t risk being held back for a partner, no matter how much my mother hounds me for it.” Bakugou can’t help the smirk that makes its way to his expression. He’s quite similar in his reservations. “What about you?” she asks, eyes trained on the menu as she searches for something that sounds good. “I don’t have time to fuck around when I’m working to be the best.” He notices her quick glance up at the curse word, but she otherwise seems unbothered. “Interesting,” she murmurs, loud enough for him to hear. You are smirking, still reading the menu, not giving any explanation for what you mean. The server steps up to the table, wine bottle in hand. He pours you each a glass and sets the bottle on the table, taking your orders and scurrying off again. You drink from your glass while staring at Bakugou. He quirks a brow at you, one hand fiddling with his silverware while the other lays, palm flat to the table. “What?” You set your glass down but keep fingers wrapped around the stem, stare unwavering. “Have…you seem familiar.” Bakugou grins in an almost feral way. Your eyes narrow. You know that smile from somewhere, teeth bared in a subtly dangerous way. Wild hair and piercing red eyes… You open your mouth to speak, but Bakugou beats you to it. “I feel like I should be offended,” he leans in, smirk widening, and you tense. “After showing me up, playing hero,” At that your [e/c] eyes go wide. “you’d think you’d remember me.” You bush your chair back. “I’m sorry, I just– listen, I—” you start to stand, panic overtaking you, until fingers wrap tightly around your wrist. You heart stops for a second, meeting his stern glare. “Hold the fuck on. I’m not here to get you in trouble, idiot.” Bakugou wants to smack himself. He’s not trying to scare you off but he’d doing a damn good job of it. You hesitate. Slowly, you sit back in your seat, arm still held in a vice grip. “You’re…not? Even though I used my quirk in public like that?” He sighs and lets go of her wrist, leaning back in his chair. “No,” he takes a large drink of his wine before continuing. “When I realized it was you I was tempted, but…” Bakugou purses his lips, unsure of how to continue. “I don’t know. I wanted to see what kind of person pulls that kind of shit. I guess.” You eye him. He seems almost skittish, shoulders tensed up and holy shit you can see the muscles rippling under the button up. “I…so you’re Ground Zero?” her voice is barely above a whisper and Bakugou is thankful for the discretion. He nods. You nod in return, thinking. “I couldn’t help it. I just reacted, I guess.” Bakugou leans forward, prompting you to continue. “I always wanted to be a hero. My quirk is perfect for it, too.” You give a strained smile. “Energy manipulation and absorption. My hair acts as a conductor for me to draw in energy. Electric, kinetic, even drawing it from people if we touch skin-to-skin.” You wiggle your fingers around for emphasis. “I can take it and put that energy into my movements. As long as I move around I can channel it. Put extra power behind punches and jumps. Problem is, overuse leads to nosebleeds, migraines, and most importantly seizures.” You let out a heavy sigh through your nose, scooting your chair closer to the table and leaning forward. You keep your eyes off of Bakugou’s face, not keen on seeing how he reacts. “I had a pretty bad seizure when I was 14 and the doctor said if I pushed it I would be more prone to having them with future quirk use. So, being a hero was no longer an option. I mean, who wants a pro to go down in a fight due to a seizure? Too much risk.” Your voice trails off and you bite your lip. You glance up at Bakugou. His brow is pinched, a hard frown in place. “I didn’t mean to make it awkward—" “Shut up.” Your jaw clacks shut, eyes wide. Bakugou turns his head away with a huff. “It’s fine.” He flicks his eyes to match yours, one hand clenching and unclenching on the table. Bakugou wasn’t expecting that response. He’s only spoken with you for less than twenty minutes but he’s starting to understand that the woman seated across from him will not be anything he expects. It excites him. “What do you do instead?” he asks to change the subject. You light up almost immediately, smile spreading and bunching up your cheeks. Cute, he thinks. “I work in a lab! I’m the supervisor for my lab, actually. It’s a University funded lab, and my team works on experiments and studies related to physics with a little bit of kinesiology thrown in. Since my quirk has a lot to do with kinetic energy, I love conducting studies around it. We share somewhat with a team of chemists, but we generally get along.” Bakugou listens intently as you gush about your work and the seemingly crazy group you work with. Your food arrives and the two fall into a relative quiet as you eat. Bakugou is surprisingly comfortable with the lull in conversation. He’s used to Kirishima, who talks while stuffing his face, which usually turns into a lecture from the ash blond. On to pof that, his ex would get so caught up in talking that she’d let her food get cold. Bakugou finishes off his wine to drown the memory. You are mostly done with your meal when you prop your head in one hand and watch Bakugou. When his gaze lifts to yours, you smile softly. “What made you want to be a hero?” you ask with genuine curiosity behind bright [e/c]. Bakugou could give you an honest answer. He could tell you how he grew up being a big fan of All Might, became inspired by the number one hero to work hard and be even greater. If he were honest, he’d tell you that he still looks up to the former hero and has a faint desire to prove himself to his old teacher. But honesty is vulnerability, and Bakugou may as well have censored the entire concept of vulnerability from his mind entirely. Instead, he gives you a cocky smile and says, “With a quirk like mine, I knew I had to be the best.” You arch a brow, lips pressing together in a thin line. You hum noncommittally and Bakugou can tell you think his answer is bullshit. So used to his friends, he expects to be called out without mercy. For the third time that night you completely throw him for a loop. “Well, you’ve certainly made your way up there. Probably one of the best pros climbing the charts right now.” You know that he knows it’s purely said to sate him, but you bit back a smile when he visibly puffs up, a haughty demeanor taking root that’s near impossible to miss. “I’m not sure I ever imagined that the great Ground Zero would ever seek a sugar baby, much less of me.” You are pouring yourself another glass of wine as you say this. You lift the glass to your lips and lift your eyes to meet his. You’re startled by the sharp gaze that greets you. “If this is gonna happen then there’s gonna be rules,” he starts, tone eerily even. “First rule: don’t fucking sell yourself short. I’m the best and only accept the best, so quit shitting on yourself. I don’t wanna hear that self-deprecating bullshit.” All you can do is nod, throat tight. “Second,” Bakugou lounges back in his chair, not unlike a King who knows the power he holds over his court. You grip your glass tight, eye wide and attentive. He feels something warm swell in his chest at your undivided attention, warmth spindling up behind his sternum and into the dip where his throat meets collarbone. “I don’t want anyone to know I’m a sugar daddy. I don’t care what people think of me, but my PR agent would have my head if rumors like that went around. In public, we’re together, but no one needs details.” “You’re a private person, I take it?” your voice is quiet as you sip at the wine. “If I want someone to know my business, they will. My fans and the press don’t need to know shit about me outside of when I’m kickin’ ass.” He punctuates the sentiment with a deep scowl. You nod, smiling softly. “I agree. I’m not the kind of person to share my life with the world, only what I want them to see of me.” Bakugou grunts. “There’s gonna be events I take you to, public shit with press and all those fucking vultures. They’ll probably ask you about ‘us’ but you don’t gotta answer anything.” He narrows his eyes. “And if you do, watch what you say.” You chuckle. “You don’t need to worry.” Your smile widens, teeth on display and a playful glint in your eyes. “Do I get to call you any pet names?” “Not if you want to keep your tongue.” At that, you bust out in laughter. Patrons seated around you shoot glares your way, though neither seem to care. When you settle down, you tell him, “Noted. Anything else?” Bakugou flexes his jaw in thought. “Not right now but I’ll tell you if I think of anything.” The two fall into another comfortable silence as Bakugou finishes his meal. You observe the people around you, the way they hold an air of superiority about them despite no effort on their part, elegance second nature to them. You had worried that your date would leave you feeling inadequate, making you hyper aware of the role you were playing that felt so unfamiliar. Yet here you were with your favorite hero, feeling free to be as much yourself as the situation allowed. Hell, more so, even. The server comes by to leave the check and take their plates. Bakugou glances over the ticket, then reaches into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet. You expect a credit card, like the dates before him, but instead he pulls out large bills and tosses them onto the table. He stands and quickly moves to pull out your chair. He even goes so far as to offer his arm. You take it with a bashful smile. Once outside, you take a deep breath of the city air. This side of town was quieter, less pollution and traffic. Bakugou pulls away and faces you. “I’ll call you a cab.” “Oh no, I can take the train.” He shoots you a look that says ‘Excuse me?’ so you shut your mouth and look to your feet. The hero takes out his phone and taps away before putting it back in his pocket. “Are you telling me you took a fucking train to get here? In that?” Bakugou gives you a once over, jealously flaring inside his chest at the thought of others eyes you up like this. He’s unsure why he feels so strongly about it, but he’s long past the days of shoving his emotions into a box and wishes he just knew how to make the ugly feeling fuck right off. “Uh, yeah? I don’t have a car.” You shrug. A growl bubbles up from Bakugou’s throat and he takes a step closer to you. You straighten, face now mere inches from his, those vermilion orbs pinning you in place. “From now on, when we meet, I’ll pick you up.” You can only nod, voice gone under his gaze. He nods, stepping out of your space. You take a deep breath now that you feel you are able. “There’s a stupid gala in a week and a half. I’ll give you details later.” Bakugou holds out his hand and for a moment you stare at it, confused. He clears his throat. “I need your phone, dumbass.” You jolt with an “oh!” before pulling it from your purse and handing it to him. “It’s some fundraiser my agency and a couple others are throwing. I don’t remember what for, but heroes and other celebrities are gonna be there.” He hands you back the phone. “Be sure to dress nice. This is your debut.” As he says the last bit, he pulls a wad of cash from his wallet and holds it out to you. You balk, taking a moment to stare before your fingers timidly curl around the paper. “Buy something that’s solid. Even Mina is ditching print.” You have no idea who that is but just nod your head in understanding. He keeps making you feel like words are impossible to conjure. No one has ever made you so speechless. A car pulls up to the curb and Bakugou has the door open and is ushering you in before you even realize. From your seat, you blink up at your date owlishly. He leans on the car door, dim fairy lights casting a warm glow behind him. “And one last thing,” Bakugou leans in, forehead almost pressed to the car’s cool metal lip. His voice drops to a level only you can hear, a purr edging his words. “I better be the only you call Daddy. Got that?” You feel pins and needles prodding your cheeks and numbing your fingers. You nod dumbly. He shakes his head, arching a brow in expectation. Swallowing, you shift in your seat. “Yes, Daddy,” you whisper shyly. He rewards you with a wide smirk, teeth peeking out behind pink lips, and leans back, hand gripping the door and fuck you can’t stop gawking at those biceps. Bakugou feels pride at the way you eye his arms, and maybe he flexes a little just to show off. “Night, baby.” With that, the door slams shut and the car pulls away from the restaurant. You raise your voice enough to tell the driver your address, then return to the daze the hero had left you in. It takes a few long minutes before you are able to pull it together. You flip through the cash he gave you, eyes growing to saucers when you see he gave you a whole ¥50,000. You couldn’t believe he’d give you so much, and for a dress! You stuff it into your purse and pull out your phone, staring at the new contact. You huff at it, Bakugou having put his name, just plain and boring, and edit the contact, changing the name to Daddy followed by an explosion emoji. You pull up a new conversation and shoot off a text to ensure he has your number. The whole way home you grin like a maniac, a light buzzing resonating through your entire being. You’re in a daze as you climb up the 4 flights of stairs to your apartment, humming something random as you unlock your door, only grounding when Rōrupan barrels into you and sends you right on your ass. You place both hands on either side of the dog’s face, scratching intently and sighing dreamily. “It seems things are turning out pretty good for me, Rōru.” The rest of your night is a haze of excitement humming in your veins.

Bakugou makes it home, thoughts stuck on the woman he spent his evening with. When he walks through the door Senshi immediately appears at his feet, rubbing himself across Bakugou’s leg, purring loudly like he has a car engine for a heart. The blond picks him up and scratches under his chin while wandering around the loft aimlessly. He’s left with a light feeling, energy swimming through his body and he doesn’t understand it. All of this from one date? Bakugou scoffs as he sets Senshi on the bed. “You should have seen how gorgeous she was,” he mutters to the cat. He removes his shirt, receiving a chirp in response from his companion. “You’d like her…but I guess you’re a whore for anyone who will give you attention, huh?” Senshi rolls onto his back, wiggling and mewing, as if to say, “Why don’t you give me attention?” Bakugou rolls his eyes affectionately, then continues to get ready for bed. And if he dreams of carding his fingers through [h/c] hair and kissing soft skin, that’s only between him and his cat.

_-_-_-_-_

@sessi03

[hylianfury]

A castle in the woods

So, I’m going with it. Tomorrow I’ll write a new chapter of the zora fic which is my current priority but under the cut have a snipped about the whole Cursed!Link thing. With four major WIP (Sunstone, Zora, Parkour and the kid who doesn’t really like Sidon) and one planned (Concubine Link au) I don’t feel like turning THIS in a complete work but... in the meanwhile  I also won’t shy away from writing bits of it. 

Before we start: the original post and that one fanart that started it all.

Keep in mind this Link is really different from my usual take on him and largely socially inept because he hasn’t really, REALLY been around people for centuries. And this bit here starts after Sidon failed reaching one of the shrines. For the castle itself imagine a building surrounded by a korok-forest like forest. You can find it only if you truly want, you can leave whenever you decide a wish ain’t worth risking your life. Fic is under the cut since for now it doesn’t feel right putting it on AO3. Please check the tags for safety. will be tagged as “Castle!Au”

When Sidon regained consciousness all his body could register was pain, there wasn’t a single muscle that wasn’t aching and the large burn on his shoulder felt somehow even worse than before… and that filled him with relief.

If he could feel pain it meant he was still alive, he escaped the metallic spider abomination of the forest and its destructive rays even if Sidon could only barely remember making it to the castle’s entrance before falling on the cobblestone below the main stairway, he could remember the house’s master looking down at him from the balcony with his usual unreadable expression as he ran for his life, and… nothing else.

He made it inside, uh? Good. Sidon tried to stir, his eyes still closed, only to find out he lacked the energy even to lift a finger. He let out a small grunt as a pang of pain crossed through his shoulder and heard something move at his side. Who… a korok? But they made no sounds beside their ethereal laughters, they weren’t really corporeal enough to interact with anything but their master.

His eyelids were incredibly heavy but Sidon managed to push them open only to find himself staring at an old, purple drape looming over his head and bits of ceiling that could be seen through rips in the fabric. Where… he was on a bed? How. He could feel an old, uncomfortable mattress under his back, the next thing he processed was that his body felt cold and his clothes had been removed. And someone was touching him.

Sidon turned his head only to gasp finding the castle’s owner sitting by his side, he wasn’t looking directly at him but gently passing a towel over the open wound of his forearm. He… he tended to him, didn’t he? Most of the cuts he got were roughly covered in bandages even if it was a terrible work, and even in the darkness of the room he could tell he had been cleaned… more or less.

Oh, Hylia, was it necessary to take all his clothes off? At least he still had his underwear but… he knew he had open cuts everywhere but… not to mention the other man’s fingers were bloody cold, did he needed clothes or what?

No, no, he was in pain and getting angry over nothing, it was already a miracle he survived, Sidon couldn’t complain, no matter how weird and unpleasant the whole situation was. Being alive was good, he now knew what was awaiting him in the castle’s cursed forest and once he figured out how to deal with it he was going to be one step closer to get his wish fulfilled.

Sidon sighed looking away from his host, he knew he was trying to help, only Hylia knew why, but every touch was still painful and he didn’t want to look at his own flesh. Wait… was he in the forbidden room? The only place in the castle he had not been granted access? It seemed so and it wasn’t exactly what he expected.

Unlike the rest of the castle the bedroom seemed to belong to a different era, something he perhaps saw while studying medieval history when he was a kid, and it was falling apart. It wasn’t withered out only by time, furniture had been thrown around and broken into pieces, a sword was stuck in the wardrobe door and all mirrors had been shattered.

It was only when he stopped studying the dust covered curtains, one of the few still intact pieces of decoration, that he realized they were still up for a reason, no matters how time was slowly making them fall apart: there wasn’t a single forest spirit in the room, he couldn’t hear a single laughter, but right behind the window they were gathering in mass, enough to obscure the light coming from outside.

“Hungry. Tasty.”

Sidon’s head slowly turned to look at his host, he heard him talk only twice before and his voice was still more comparable to a low rasp than anything else. The master was still slowly treating his wounds, the basin of water he used to damp towels wasn’t the only thing covered in blood Sidon noticed looking at the other’s robe. And his hands were shaking. He could barely see it, the movement was barely perceptible, but it was there.

The hylian’s jaw dropped slightly as he tried to offer the other a questioning look, useless considering the blond man seemed dead set on avoiding his eyes, focusing instead on covering the burns with a brown, smelly paste.

Why… if he collapsed before reaching the main door how was he still alive? The spirits had shown multiple times interest in tasting his blood and he even noticed the master of the mansion eyeing him like he had a delicious steak in front instead… yet he still breathed, he didn’t wake up with the blonde’s teeth tearing him apart, he woke up on what Sidon could assume being his bed, naked, with most of his wounds roughly treated.

“Then...” His mouth felt so dry and he could barely whisper no matters how hard he tried ”why aren’t they feasting? I’m defenseless right now.”

For the first time since he woke up the owner decided to look at him, a short uncertain glance as he seemed to consider if he wanted to answer or not. His lips parted twice, not a sound coming from them, then he seemed to sigh in defeat.

“Can’t enter.”

“Then why am I here? Didn’t I lose your game?”

No reply came for a long moment and Sidon almost resigned himself once more to the owner’s usual silence when his host’s face contorted in rage. He literally slammed the bowl he was using to hold whatever medicinal paste he made against the floor opting to point a thin finger against Sidon’s chest.

“Big nosed idiot, take guardian here!”

Guardian. The bright spider thing he only managed to escape running zig zag between trees was a guardian, an appropriate name for a killing machine that almost managed to murder him as soon as he approached the shrine of courage.

It still didn’t explain why the other decided to drag him to safety, nor why he was trying to take care of him despite clear lack of knowledge about medicine. Wait. Wait… those black things on his legs were…

“Please tell me those aren’t leeches.”

He couldn’t even feel them biting his skin over the pain he felt on everything else but he was quite sure he lost enough blood as it was. The owner seemed just genuinely confused over Sidon’s reaction, that was probably the most expressive he had seen him since he crossed the gates.

“Always… good?”

“No. Never good. I don’t know how long you’ve been here but leeches aren’t good. I vaguely remember some mumbo jumbo about bad fluids from back in the dark days but it’s been proven false.”

He was greeted by a very skeptical glare but in the end the other moved, thin pale hands gathering the animals one by one, and left the bed. The wooden frame cracked loudly as the owner’s bed was lifted and Sidon almost attempted to offer a small joke, he wanted to take his head off the situation, but what he saw as the other opened the door made him freeze in fear.

There were enough koroks outside to make almost a wall with their bodies and for the first time he managed to see them without their usual mask: their little mouths were gaping holes full of teeth, their eyes empty black dots. They were pressing against each other trying to reach for him, growling and scratching the air but being kept at bay by… something. They scattered when the small hylian threw the blood filled leeches in their direction but only because they started fighting each other to get their hands on the apparently delicious treat.

‘you’re being bad now, Fallen One’ he heard a voice chirping, followed by another. And then another. ‘Fairy Boy is so selfish’ ‘We want to play too’ ‘You can’t keep him for yourself’ ‘Let us in’ ‘She can’t keep us out forever’ ‘Bad, Fairy Boy, bad’

As soon as the door was slammed in front of their face silence fell once more and the blonde man slowly returned to sit on the mattress with a weird expression on his face. Again, that was more feelings in the last ten minutes than Sidon had seen him show in weeks.

“Blood frenzy. Unsafe. When safer, you leave.”

That sounded like an order, not a suggestion like the last two times. He just didn’t understand why the master wanted him to leave so badly, the koroks were clearly awaiting his demise and- oh…

“You...” It was an absurd idea, he wanted to blame how stupid it was on his current situation and the blood loss, but it seemed to tie together some of the other man’s strange behaviors and why he went out of his way to drag Sidon’s bloodied body to his room. “...you are not their master.

Blue eyes widened just a little but the other seemed to regain composure quickly, his face returning unreadable as usual. It didn’t matter, what Sidon managed to see in that short instant was enough to confirm his suspicious. But… how? The blonde man lived with those creatures, if stories were true he had been part of the household from the very beginning as well, he was described as a fae-like creature who existed to lure unsuspecting men and maiden in.

Yet there he was, barely speaking, barely eating and while he couldn’t really deny how fair his features were he mostly wore old robes and didn’t seem to care about what Sidon thought of him. Not to mention he had been nowhere to be seen until he crossed the gate, the blonde didn’t really have a part in him finding the Castle.

“If you aren’t their master… then who are you?”

Not a single word escaped the other man’s lips, he simply got back up on his feet once more, walked to the door opening it again and, ignoring the snarling and loud Koroks he stepped between them, the spirits parting just enough to let him pass and ripping his clothes where Sidon’s blood stained them. He tried to call for him, honestly afraid of being left alone, but the door closed before he could get any word out.

And then there was only silence. 

[thisiskatsblog]

(1) Hi! :) I just saw the post you reblogged about the industry and the closeting, etc and I have a genuine question because I really don't understand and sorry if it's stupid sksksk- so if we take a louis, for example, his relationship with El are quite private and we know almost for a fact that they live together and go to a pubs together (locals saw them, not the fans),and plus the fans saw them together and kissing while no one was there...I don't think it's how a fake relationships works?

(2)Like with Danielle u could see that it was fake but with El it seems genuine, Louis even said that they went to see Jay together, why would Louis lie about that? Or they do all these things on purpose or something, to make he seem more genuine so people won't question it and definitely believe that they are together?

(3) like idk, to me it's easier to just do a pap walks every now and then but why would he live together with supposed beard? And go to a pubs and to clubs and stuff while no one there? That's just weird to me.

________________________

Hi there

Nice to meet you and thanks for questioning with an open mind.

Of course, it’s clear I have a different opinion, and I’ll try to explain why. 

Louis’ relationship with Eleanor is not what i would call quite private - it kicked off with a very public, staged pap shoot - and early on there was much confusion on the start date of that relationship - they couldn’t seem to remember when the anniversary is or how they met (eg did Harry introduce them? Or not?)

“Almost know for a fact” they live together: how? For me, photographs with dogs are not proof of living together. I invite you to share other evidence and I’ll be happy to have a look at it. 

Please also feel free to share any hard proof you have found of them kissing “while no one was there” and going to pubs together. I am afraid I am not aware of it. 

On Louis lying: well, closeting involves lying, so he would lie about that, yes. And that’s done, indeed, to make it seem more genuine. That is the essence of what closeting is. Lying to make it look like you are in a relationship with a woman and therefore heterosexual. It’s not pretty. It is what it is. This is life for LGBTQ+ people, whether Louis is one of us or not: a choice between lying (in the case of some bi people in different sex relationships, like me, by omission) and potentially subjecting yourself to prejudice and/or abuse. That’s usually not what happens, most people are okay, and times have definitely changed, but it’s the culture we were raised in, and this impacts us. 

I honestly do not think he lives together with Eleanor. Suggestions are made to make it look that way. But as long as I have been following fandom, he has shown no genuine interest in her, he is more engaged with fans than he is with her. He defended her at the airport though: rightly so, and good for him. He is a decent guy. 

As to going to pubs and clubs “when there is no one there” - there is always someone there in those pubs and clubs as that’s how it gets to the fandom - and more often than not (but you’d have to point me to specific evidence of specific instances) fans have been tipped off that they will see Louis there. At least in the cases that I have seen, but again, feel free to show me otherwise.

I am sorry if this argument is vague, that’s in part because yours are equally general and vague - the more specific evidence you can point me to, the better I can answer you - depends on how much you want to know. 

Please also look at my bearding tag, and to other people who are much more knowledgeable and have much more to say about Eleanor, Elounor, and the entire bearding thing than I do. 

The thing is: don’t take it at face value. Dare to look at all the evidence - for Louis being with Harry and Louis being with Eleanor; And come to your own conclusions. 

Also: if you were Eleanor, would you take him back after having been publicly dumped by a kiss in a swimming pool coming out; your boyfriend then having gotten a one night stand pregnant, only to start dating Danielle, until he “came to his senses” and wanted you again? Is that the kind of guy you think Louis is? Or do you think he’s kind, and loyal, and not perfect, but someone who fights for his long time relationship with someone who is also his best friend and bandmate? That he has actually been proven to live with #welivetogetherdealwithit #alwaysinmyheartyourssincerelylouis.

[theycallmebeccawrites]

Perfectly Imperfect: Chapter 6

With Tumblr holding my original writing blog @beccaheartschrisevans captive (aka flagged as explicit), I have made a secondary writing blog and may end up closing the other all together. In the meantime, I am reposting all of my stories on my new blog.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Wren Arnold (OFC)

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: n/a

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

Perfectly Imperfect Masterlist | Chris & Wren Masterlist

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

August through October 2020

After Wren left, Chris spent the first two days mad at her for the way she had forced him to tell her about Jessa. He'd already felt like a massive failure, but now that his best friend knew, he felt like even more of one.

Not to mention that he had been completely blindsided by her announcement. So much so that the full impact of her sudden departure didn't hit him until Sunday night when his brother showed up at the house with Addy, who'd spent the weekend with his mom. Wren being gone meant that he had no one to help him out with Addy for the next week or the weeks after that. He waited until after Addy was in bed to call his mom and see if she and/or his sisters could help him out at all.

The biggest adjustment to the schedule was that Addy started attending daycare every day. For the first two days, it was ok but by Wednesday the toddler started acting out. It started during dinner with his mom and siblings; Addy was fine one minute and then screaming and crying for Wren the next.

Chris did his best to console her, but nothing he did could change the fact that Wren had abandoned her. It took the better part of two hours to get Addy to fall asleep and then Chris had to leave her at his mom's house because he had an early call time the next morning. It broke his heart to leave his little girl there when she was so upset, but he didn't have a choice.

As the week progressed, Addy's temper tantrums got worse and began to remind Chris of the ones that they had experienced shortly after he and Addy had moved out of his mom's house. She would be perfectly fine one moment and then dissolve into a puddle of tears and flinging limbs. Each time, it took him hours to settle her down.

By Friday night, Chris's anger with Wren reached a boiling point. He was livid with her for the way that she had just waltzed out of their lives like it was no big deal, like they would be perfectly fine without her. Especially after she had all but forced him to tell her about Jessa not wanting Addy. That fact alone should have stopped her from leaving, but no, his former best friend had run out of their lives like her pants were on fire.

His mom's annual end of summer barbeque was that weekend and Chris hoped Wren would show up so he could have words with her, but unlike years previous, neither she nor her parents came. He tried to drink away the unease that settled in his chest over their absence, but it only proved to be his downfall. All the angry thoughts he'd had about Wren during the week forced themselves out of his mouth and he spewed them to anyone who would listen.

Chris woke up the next morning with a killer hangover and a sick feeling that had nothing to do with the amount of drinking he'd done the night before. He couldn't remember everything he had said, but he remembered enough to know it had been bad.

Scott was the one to draw the short straw, or so he claimed, and escorted Chris out of their mom's house with the promise of a greasy breakfast. It was over their choice hangover food at a local hole-in-the-wall dinner that Scott laid all the cards on the table.

"Wren did not abandon Addy," he stated. "She did not abandon you, either. She isn't Jessa, Chris. Besides, you knew from the very beginning of this whole arrangement that she was going to go back to work in the fall."

Chris didn't argue with him, because logically he knew that his brother was speaking the truth. It didn't, however, softened the blow that was Wren walking out of his and Addy's lives.

"Maybe you should talk to someone," his brother suggested. "What you went through with Jessa changed you, Chris. The past week shows that you're still holding onto a lot of anger towards her, but it came out towards Wren and not the person you're really mad at."

Chris took Scott's word to heart and arranged for a therapist to meet with him one day a week during his lunch break on set. The first session was the awkward get to know you type that left him feeling frustrated and ready to call it all off, but he stuck with it. Following the second and third appointments, he felt a little better after getting things off his chest. He found he was still angry with Jessa, but he didn't want to punch a wall every time he thought of her anymore.

As part of his healing process, Chris realize he had to change things for himself and Addy. His mom and sisters were making it work, but he hated the nights when Addy stayed with them and he hated that he hardly got to spend any time alone with her. Sure, they had their weekends, but they'd spent more of those weekends with her in front of the TV while he tried to tackle all the household chores that fell by the wayside during the week.

It was during one of their rare full weekends together that he finally had a chance to teach Addy how to ride a bicycle with training wheels. As he watched her pedal her heart out, the solution to his problem presented itself in the form of his next door neighbor, Miss Loretta. Addy was delighted to see the 60-something year-old woman and Chris vaguely recalled Wren mentioning the woman to him in one of their chats earlier in the summer.

Miss Loretta was a widowed woman whose four grandsons had been students of Wren's. She had retired shortly after her oldest grandson had been born and had spent the last several years playing nanny to her grandkids, but they were all in school now which left her lots of time for volunteering.

It took Chris a week after meeting Miss Loretta to offer her the job as Addy's nanny and his part time housekeeper. She accepted immediately and started the next week. The change in Addy was almost overnight after they'd gotten her back to the schedule she'd been on during the summer. She still attended daycare five days a week, but left either right before or right after lunch and took naps at home.

During the first week of October, Chris used a day off from filming to take Addy to see the therapist that was helping him work out his Jessa issues. Things had gotten better since Miss Loretta had taken over Addy's care, but Chris still wanted to make sure his little girl was ok. Having two women who she dearly loved walk out of her life within months of each other couldn't be good. Not that he had mentioned Wren to the therapist yet. That was a whole different situation, one that he himself wasn't entirely sure about.

Addy was hesitant, at first, when they arrived at the therapist's office, but once she saw all the toys there were to play with, she had all but run into the room. Chris sat in the room next door watching her interactions with the therapist through a one-way mirror. The session lasted only thirty minutes or so before the therapist came into where Chris was waiting and assured Chris that, at that time, Addy appeared to be a perfectly normal 3-year-old.

It wasn't until Chris's next session that the therapist brought up the topic that Addy had talked about most: Wren.

"Wren is or was, I don't know exactly what she is now, but we were best friends," Chris explained. "She helped me with Addy this summer, but took a job out of state in early August."

"And how did that make you feel?" the therapist asked. "Especially on the heels of Jessa leaving the two of you."

The question forced Chris to rehash what he had told the therapist during their first meeting, but this time, he had included the parts about Wren. The first time, he had sort of glossed over her, but he knew he couldn't this time. He found that once he started talking about Wren, he couldn't stop.

Even after his appointment ended, Wren stayed at the forefront of his mind. He was able to finish the work day and do what he needed with Addy, but after that, his mind became an instant replay of the moments in his and Wren's life together.

He remembered the first time he kissed her and the way his lips had tasted like her blue raspberry chapstick after the kiss. The fact that he remembered the flavor surprised him, especially since he couldn't remember recall what the perfumes that Jessa or any of his previous girlfriends had worn without walking past the scent.

From there, his mind traveled to his senior prom and the way that Wren had sought him out after his date had gotten back together with her ex. He had been ready to leave the prom, but she had talked him into staying and had even offered to be his date for the rest of the night since she'd come with a group of friends.

Then came the memories of the stupid antics they'd gotten into in their twenties. Like the time he'd visited her at school and snuck into the girls only dorm and then had nearly gotten discovered by the resident assistant. Or that New Year's Eve when they'd stayed up all night talking and hadn't gone to bed until the sun had come up on January 1st.

All that thinking led him to one conclusion: Wren had taken a piece of his heart with her when she'd left and, with every memory that flickered across his brain, the hole got a little bigger. It was in the wee hours of the morning that the truth of the situation punched him in the gut: he had lost his best friend and he had no one to blame but himself.

Chapter 7

Want to find me off tumblr? I'm @beccatheycallme on twitter. I also post my stories on AO3.

My tag list is always open, just let me know if you'd like to be added!

[cbk1000]

Jenn Recommends: Historical Fiction II

Welcome to another blog post in which I tell you what to read, and you just sit and passively do it because I have excellent taste in literature and also I’m kind of a bully. Check this tag for more recommendations.

Today we revisit historical fiction, because it’s one of my favourite genres and I have lots of suggestions, all of which you should definitely take to heart. My first list of historical fiction recs (which can be found here if you’re curious) was all gay, all the time; this list is slightly more heterosexual, although not much, because here be lesbians.

If You Like: Dickensian lesbians (and really, who doesn’t?)

Read: Fingersmith by Sarah Waters

I’m going to lift the summary from Goodreads, because it’s faster, and I’m lazy:  Sue Trinder is an orphan, left as an infant in the care of Mrs. Sucksby, a "baby farmer," who raised her with unusual tenderness, as if Sue were her own. Mrs. Sucksby’s household, with its fussy babies calmed with doses of gin, also hosts a transient family of petty thieves—fingersmiths—for whom this house in the heart of a mean London slum is home. One day, the most beloved thief of all arrives—Gentleman, an elegant con man, who carries with him an enticing proposition for Sue: If she wins a position as the maid to Maud Lilly, a naïve gentlewoman, and aids Gentleman in her seduction, then they will all share in Maud’s vast inheritance. Once the inheritance is secured, Maud will be disposed of—passed off as mad, and made to live out the rest of her days in a lunatic asylum. With dreams of paying back the kindness of her adopted family, Sue agrees to the plan. Once in, however, Sue begins to pity her helpless mark and care for Maud Lilly in unexpected ways...But no one and nothing is as it seems in this Dickensian novel of thrills and reversals.

This novel really hearkens back to ye old days of sensation fiction when literary thrillers were a bit slower, a little more cumbersome; they wanted more patience from the reader, who watches all the little threads get teased out bit by excruciating bit. There’s a sinister undercurrent you feel pulling at you till about the halfway point of the novel, when everything is suddenly upended and you sit up in bed screaming, “BRUH!!” because your stupid ass did NOT SEE THAT COMING EVEN A LITTLE BIT.

Waters is really good at this; her evocation of Victorian England is excellent, and transports you in a way that only the best historical fiction can manage. The narrative unfolds slowly in the first half, building upon itself with a sense of heightening doom that a faster pace could never achieve. As the reader, you’re in on the con (or are you?), and you know what’s going to happen, how it’s all going to end, where the burgeoning relationship between the two girls is painfully trundling along to--except you don’t. Waters pulls the rug out from under your feet, and she doesn’t just do it once, which is why I’m reluctant to say too much about the plot. AND--she does it all in really lovely prose that’s reminiscent of the time period she’s working in; I never really felt a modern hand guiding me. I could have been reading any piece of 19th century literature; the seams between the 21st century and the 19th are never visible, never jarring. If you, like me, are a slut for ornate Gothic literature, and/or you want your historical lesbians and you want them now, give this a try.

If You Like: Watching an oblivious pre-WWI Edwardian society hurtling to its inevitable doom through the eyes of a fucked-up family whose matriarch loses herself in the magic of her own fairytales instead of actually paying attention to the flesh and blood children they are based upon

Read: The Children’s Book by A.S. Byatt  

From Goodreads:  When Olive Wellwood’s oldest son discovers a runaway named Philip sketching in the basement of the new Victoria and Albert Museum—a talented working-class boy who could be a character out of one of Olive’s magical tales—she takes him into the storybook world of her family and friends. But the joyful bacchanals Olive hosts at her rambling country house—and the separate, private books she writes for each of her seven children—conceal more treachery and darkness than Philip has ever imagined. As these lives—of adults and children alike—unfold, lies are revealed, hearts are broken, and the damaging truth about the Wellwoods slowly emerges. But their personal struggles, their hidden desires, will soon be eclipsed by far greater forces, as the tides turn across Europe and a golden era comes to an end.

It actually took me about a month or so to read this book--not because I kept putting it down and then begrudgingly picking it back up again, but rather because I purposefully wanted to draw it out. The language, the atmosphere--it was all just something I needed to savour. This is a slow, thoughtful book that focuses rather minutely on the dramas of one family and the people who become entangled with it; it will not be for everyone (which is a caveat attached to every book, but I feel this one in particular requires the warning). This is a book about the creative process and the myriad escape hatches it offers us from the real world, sometimes to our own detriment. It is a book about WWI even though the actual war inhabits only the last quarter of the book. It is a book about the options of women in a time when society was still debating whether or not they should be considered full-fledged people. 

This is one of those books that sort of just crawled inside me and stayed; I didn’t want to leave it. I think part of my reluctance came in not wanting to reach the end, knowing WWI was bearing down on these characters, knowing many of them wouldn’t make it, because that’s what the war did to an entire generation: it erased it. I knew it was going to erase whole swathes of the story I had spent hours devoting myself to. I knew for so many of the characters there wasn’t going to be a tidy ending, and there wasn’t; they just stopped, abruptly. You follow generations of the family and in the end feel cheated, not through any failing of the author, but through the cruel and arbitrary machinations of history and the things it has perpetuated against the human race through our own blind stupidity (I’m still upset about WWI, ok??? please don’t touch me).

There was magic in this book, in Olive’s fairytales, in the puppet shows of a family friend: but it’s magic that the matriarch in particular is using to encapsulate herself. It’s not a childlike reverence for things we forget about as we age; it’s a hiding. It’s a sort of disappearance into ourselves and our storytelling because we can’t bring ourselves to look at the material world in all its varying shades of shit and wonder.

Anyway, I had feelings, ok?

If You Like: Italian people, anatomically impressive statues, and erotic descriptions of marble (seriously, I think my dude Michelangelo might have put his penis in a block or two of it)

Read: The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone 

This is a biographical novel of Michelangelo which begins when he is thirteen and still in the very beginning throes of his artistic talents. Stone apparently read through Michelangelo’s entire personal correspondence (and patiently waited years for it all to be translated) and also moved to Italy to write this, so that’s dedication, and the least you can do to repay it is sit through the sometimes vaguely uncomfortable descriptions of Michelangelo’s artwork and his sexual tension with it.

While this doesn’t have the literary merits of the previous recommendations, it’s meticulous historical fiction; Stone painstakingly recreated Michelangelo and his work. It’s an interesting peek into a niche section of art history and also covers part of the turbulent Renaissance period and the powerful politics at play which snare the hapless Michelangelo when all he wants to do is sculpt (and probably wank to) realistic marble people, goddammit. It’s entirely believable as a biography (though it is, in fact, fiction).

Bonus: Michelangelo’s poetry, which was not a thing I even knew about prior to reading this book.

[reaperofangelsao3]

Spin the Bottle Scene

So contrary to popular belief, I do write more than Harry Potter and Miraculous Ladybug fics. I’ve been working on and off on a book for about 5 years now and while I really just need to get my crap together and write it, I still need to get a proper feel for the characters since I never actually took the time to do that?

Anyway, this is just something I thought up while I was in the shower. It’s short and sweet, so I hope you enjoy.

You can also read this on my Ao3, here.

Also, this, and any other sub sequential writing Prompts I post for this will be under the tags “Academiae Wisp” (the title of the book) and “Academy Wisp” “Wisp Academy” because I can’t expect you people to remember how to spell Latin words since I can barely do it on a good day.

Thomas chuckled as he watched his friends whoop and holler and run around like animals. It was well into the summer at this point and he along with a decent group of students decided to stay on campus for the holidays, and they were all partying and drinking like soldiers come home from the war with the promise of not going back.

To say that they were completely out of control would be a gross understatement, but it was controlled chaos. They had spelled an area in which they had to stay in and even set up tents and everything, with spells to keep the girls in their tents and the boys in theirs. They only had about six acres of land they could royally fuck up, and had yet to do that five hours in, so that was at least a good sign, right?

They had had dinner, so people weren’t too drunk yet, but Thomas imagined that most everyone would be drunk before the end of the sixth or seventh hour, which would probably be coming faster than it seemed it would. It was a party full of magic-wielding teenagers, after all. It was hard not to have fun just watching them go nuts.

Thomas, though, soon noticed someone who really didn’t look like she was having fun. Someone he had gotten to know pretty well over the past few months, if he did say so himself, and yet somehow she still held back something that she didn’t seem willing to share with him, or… anyone else for that matter. Her friends seemed to know, but they wouldn’t tell him either.

So he walked over to the red haired beauty who was sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest, and sat down right next to her. The girl flinched a little and looked up at him with those striking green and gold eyes, staring up at him.

Thomas felt his voice get stuck in his throat for a moment. This was happening more and more frequently around her, he found, and it was a little disturbing to him. He had never lost his voice around girls before, or even guys for that matter. What made her different, aside from the fact that she was meant to be the new Lady of Time? No, that couldn’t be it, anyhow. He didn’t really get nervous around the Time Lord, after all.

“Hey, Rosetta. What are you doing here, sitting all alone? I thought you would be hanging out with Ed? Or Elina and Cassandra? Maybe even your brother?” He asked curiously, then looked over, spotting Will among a crowd of people near immediately. Will never got drunk, and now wasn’t an exception. He was probably the most sober person here, even if with the fumes from the magical drugs people were using to get high, since Guinevere didn’t have the proper conditions to grow pot or make the more dangerous variety of drugs on Infante or Florentia.

He looked further, and saw Cassandra, who looked drunker than anyone else there (that was saying something) with a glass of wine in one hand and clinging to Elina with the other, who was helping her stay up right, looking a little exasperated.

Ed was nowhere to be seen. He had a tendency to disappear at events such as these.

“Well, I would, but as you can see, I think they’re a little… uh… busy.”

“I do see that.” Thomas chuckled at her meek, quiet voice, the voice he could barely hear over all the racket, yet his hearing seemed to hone in on just naturally. “What do you think of this mini riot?”

“It’s... active.”

Thomas snorted. “Why so unenthusiastic, my Lady of Time?”

Rosetta’s face turned a little red and she shrugged, looking out over the crowd of dancing children. “It’s just sort of tame, you know?”

Thomas barked out a laugh. “No, I don’t. Enlighten me.”

“Well, I-”

“HEEEEYYYYYYYY!”

Rosetta and Thomas looked over at the sound of a girl yelling and saw one of their classmates, Heather, he believed, who was grinning and holding up a bottle of Serpent’s Venom Rum, the deep purple glass shining with the colors of the fire. The party quieted down a little and the majority of people looked over at her.

The brunette smirked, her hair bouncing a little as she hollered. “WHO WANTS TO PLAY SPIN THE BOTTLE?!” She yelled, and nearly thirty people cheered or whooped in response, which left less than half of the other students who weren’t in the game.

Thomas looked at Rosetta and smiled shyly before getting up and jogging over to join the game, knowing if he didn’t play, he would probably get heckled by the other students.

He hadn’t expected Rosetta to follow him, but when he saw her sit at the opposite side of the circle next to her brother, he figured she had. She smiled up at her brother, who smiled back, looking excited. Figures. Will was always excited for stupid drunk games.

Heather smiled and spelled the bottle, then had it float to the middle of the circle. A light shone from the bottle like a laser, pointing to her. “Okay, everybody got their wands?”

The students pulled out their wands in response.

“Good. Okay, this is how this works. There’s too many of us to reach and spin it, so we’re all going to use our wands to spin the bottle, no tricks to make it land on the person you want. I added a light to the bottle so we can see who it stops on. Now, some special rules!” She yelled, grinning. “Everyone knows the basic rules of Spin the Bottle, but just in case - your task is to spin the bottle, duh. You spin the bottle and whomever the bottleneck points to, you have to get up and go kiss that person. As for the special rules…

“First! Since we happen to have students who have siblings in this circle, if it lands on your sibling, you can either pass with a kiss on the cheek or you can respin. You can decide on this however you want.” She looked pointedly at Rosetta and Will, then at Thomas and glancing to his brother, who was also in the circle.

“Second! If you spin it and it lands in between two people, you gotta kiss them both! No playing favorites or this-person-isn’t-as-bad-as-the-other!

“Third! If it lands on the same gender as you, you still gotta kiss them, whether you happen to be straight or gay or indifferent!

“Forth! If you are absolutely adamant that you are not going to kiss whomever your spin lands on, or whose spun landed on you, you can roshambo it. If you win, you go scott free, but if you lose, you gotta do a dare that the winner gives you. You can only use this privilege three times! Everyone got that?”

Everyone looked at each other and there was a quiet murmur before all the students gave a vague nod.

“Good. Now, since I was the one who suggested it, I’ll nominate someone.” Heather looked among the other students for a candidate, smirking at a blonde fairy who was sitting a little too primly for her taste.

“Oh, Ver-oooonnn-i-caaaa.” The girl sang, and the fairy, Veronica, perked up, then sighed.

“Merlin, save us.” She mumbled. “Okay, Duke, geez.” The fairy said and pulled out her wand, waving it in a simple motion, and making the bottle spin in a frenzy, but staying glued to its spot on the ground.

And it all went downhill from there.

Veronica was made to kiss some guy names Kurt, then Kurt was made to kiss one of the boys from the soccer team, who then somehow won a round of roshambo to get out of a kiss from Angelica, who was known for being extremely lucky when it came to chance games. Angelica didn’t seem too phased when her spin landed on another girl and, in fact, kissed her quite vigorously, which surprised more than a couple people. That girl was forced to pass because she was too frazzled to spin the bottle correctly, so it went to the girl next to her, who spun it and got it on Will. Will had managed to get away with a light peck, as the girl didn’t seem too interested anyway.

When Will spun, and it landed on a boy, though, the boy suddenly looked a little nervous. It was obvious that boy had never had any intimate experience with anyone, but when Thomas saw the seemingly innocent smile on Will’s face, he was suddenly regretting it very much that he was sitting right next to said boy.

Thomas shifted away from the boy uneasily, and so did the guy on the boy’s other side, as Will stood up and stalked over to the boy. The poor guy fidgeted in his seat, looking nervous as all heck, as Will moved to stand over him, sitting down, straddling the boy’s lap.

“You look nervous.” He commented, and the other nodded a little quickly, which made Will snort softly. “Then let me help take the edge off.”

He grabbed the boy by his collar and kissed him, and Thomas was surprised to see the boy instantly relax, and he heard multiple girls squeal and cheer.

Will got up seconds later and went back to his seat by Rosetta, who was gagging playfully, to which he laughed at.

“Aw, what is it, sis?”

“I never needed to see my brother kiss another person, like, ever, in my life. I think I would have preferred to see you makeout with a toad than ever have you put me through seeing you kiss another human being.” She gagged again, but Will only laughed harder.

It went on like that for another couple rounds, with cheers and laughter and squeals all being shared, until Rosetta had to roshambo out of kissing some guy who looked all too happy to have gotten her as his spin, and she made him spell himself into a feather suit and do the chicken dance around the fire.

All eyes were on her now as she pulled her wand out, looking at the bottle like it was the bane of her existence.

He glanced over and watched as Heather muttered something under her breath and Thomas rose a brow, wondering what she could be doing, then heard cheering.

He glanced down and saw Rosetta staring right at him with Cassandra, Elina, Will, and quite a few of the other students cheering and yelling loudly. He wondered what for, then glanced down, and saw a shining red light on him.

Thomas felt his face heat up like a volcano ready to burst, and he looked back up at Rosetta, who was still sitting down. Will was laughing and nudging her to get up, and people started cheering her name.

“Go, Ro!” “Go get ‘em, girl!” “You can do it!”

And then gone was the shy girl he had come to know.

Gone was the meek, timid girl who liked to saunter during their recess period.

Gone was the girl who stumbled over herself whenever someone got her face to go pink like it was right now.

No, she stood right up, the flowers weaved into her braid, the ones that Cassandra had put in her hair before the poor Elf got drunk off wine, blooming brightly in her hair as she walked right up to him, and Thomas felt himself grow nervous. His heart started beating erratically, and he felt like a fox torn between getting the berries or going for the plump field mouse.

Rosetta got on her knees in front of him and started inching closer, and Thomas was stuttering out words he wasn’t thinking about nor sure he meant before he could stop himself. Why was she looking at him like that? Her emerald eyes were so big, so focus, watching him like hawk.

“R-Ro, you kn-know you don’t have to do this, r-right?” He stuttered out as she got closer, now practically in his lap, one knee on either side of his own knees as they lay stretched out on the ground, his back to the fire. He couldn’t even lean back of her because of that damned fire.

She didn’t say anything and just inched closer, now straddling him properly, her knees on either sides of his thighs, and her arms lifting up a little.

“I-I mean, I know that you don’t really like me like this, s-so you don’t have to kiss me or anything if you don’t w-want to-”

Her hands were on his shoulders and fucking fuck her eyes were distracting and her breath on his lips was making his head spin.

She did pause, though, looking a little confused as she glanced into his eyes once more.

“Now, Thomas, what would give you such a silly idea?”

That was all she said before her lips were on his, and her arms had slid up from his shoulders to trace over the sides of his neck, and all the tension left him so quickly he nearly fell back into the fire.

He now understood how the boy next to him had relaxed so quickly. If Will was as good as his little sister at this, then it was just too easy to just let go and kiss back. Her lips were so soft, and it was like she knew exactly where to touch to make shivers go up his spine and force his heart out of his chest and into the clouds. His brain had melted somewhere in between the beginning of the kiss and when she had slide her hand up into his hair and put the other around his neck, until he was just putty in her hands.

And then visions started filling his head, ones he didn’t understand. They weren’t of either of them or any of their friends. They were visions of complete strangers.

He watched as couples square danced at a wedding, with the bride laughing and desperately holding up her dress as she danced with her new husband. He heard fiddles and flutes, all playing some tune he didn’t recognize. Sure, he knew it was some folk or high-paced Celtic tune, but he hadn’t ever heard it in his life.

Soon there was cake, and the bride had grabbed a handful of it and pushed it into her groom’s mouth before kissing him like the pastor had just allowed it for a second time, and then there was more dancing, and laughing, and playing silly games. Dogs ran around and barked and hopped around the celebrating families, who fed them and played with them. Children were running around playing random games that probably didn’t make sense to anyone other than them, and at some point the bride and the groom had managed to sneak off, going deep into the woods and dancing in silence among a prearranged area, quiet and happy and exchanging silly sweet-nothings and kisses until night fell upon them, leaving them with fairy lights and fireflies to light up the forest around them.

Thomas was used to giving people happiness, not the other way around. Everywhere he went, people couldn’t help but be happy, and the only people who had any sort of defiance over that were the Council members and heirs to the Council. People couldn’t just make him happy, couldn’t just turn on the ‘joy’ switch inside his head like his presence did them.

But the scene of the wedding that flashed through his head, that made him so inexplicably happy. He couldn’t even tell you why. It’s not like he knew them. But the pure, raw happiness that the wedding just oozed was infectious and honestly, Rosetta’s kiss just magnified it several times.

So he was disappointed but still incredibly light-hearted when she pulled away, and he knew his eyes were shining just like hers were.

She smiled at him, and that’s when he registered that everyone around them was cheering. Her hand was still in his hair.

“That’s how I know this party is tame.” She whispered, grinning at him before getting up, turning around and swaying back to her spot next to her brother, who was laughing and cheering for her just like the rest of them, and he heard Angelica laugh loudly.

“Look at that, Ro! You kissed him so good, he’s staring after you like a lost puppy!” She laughed and tumbled back onto the ground.

Rosetta turned her head and winked at him playfully, causing his face to heat up, and he was sure from the increased volume, he was blushing.

Thomas decided it might be best he take a break to get himself back under control, but of course, when he got back in the game, it landed right back on Rosetta.

He was going to have a lot of things to remind him of this night, wasn’t he?

[psychictraineravery]

(PLEASE READ ALL OF THIS) intro, rules, guidelines, advice, and other info!

hi! on this blog, you can call me avery! (he/him only please)

i need more practice with my pendulum, so on this blog, i’ll be answering questions for free!

i’d call myself an amateur, even though it’s been a full year since i’ve started practicing witchcraft and divining.

this blog is exclusively for pendulum readings, but...if you want to pick my brain or something, you can ask me about stuff i like or what not. like, what my favorite pokemon is.

info

I answer questions privately! just make sure you have a blog, and specify that you want your question answered privately! it’s okay if you want to be vague, but i highly suggest sending in asks that are at least a little detailed; i believe my pendulum has an easier time answering questions accurately if given enough information, but, you do you!

you can ask test questions (aka, questions you already know the answer to) if you feel it’s necessary.

I will probably be closing my askbox once a certain number of asks in my inbox has been hit. Once my askbox closes, I will answer all the questions in my askbox. Then, I will open it back up again, and so on and so forth. i’ll make sure everyone knows whether my askbox is closed or open in my blogs description.

PLEASE do not accept all of my readings as fact, especially considering i have only opened this blog for practice. as many other readers have said, take the answers with grains of salt. this doesn’t necessarily mean my answers are incorrect though, things are constantly changing, and something that could’ve been a yes answer one minute might be a no answer the next minute. regardless, you can still change the outcome of things! things are never in stone, and this applies to the answers you get from me. 

If i’m uncomfortable with the question you asked me, I wont answer it. Whatever things i’ve realized I’m not okay with answering will be placed in the rules section accordingly.

I intend on answering questions as soon as i can, but this does not mean I will always answer your questions immediately.

rules

1. only 4 questions per ask. you can send in more than one ask, follow up questions, and rephrased versions of previous questions; i’m just asking you limit your questions to four per ask for the sake of ...uh, no clutter?

2. NO sexual questions. I’m a minor. and if i wasn’t, i still wouldn’t want to answer any sexual or nsfw questions. please find someone else to answer questions like those for you.

3. please don’t ask me any questions related to anything that would need to be “diagnosed.” if you need to self-diagnose, just do your research, do some self-introspection, and trust yourself. you know yourself best! you don’t need me to help you with this kind of thing!

4. As long as your questions meet the above criteria, you can ask me anything! Also, I’m otherkin and fictionkin, so, if you have any questions related to past lives or canons that you need me to answer, i’m your man.

guidelines and advice

if you’re going to be a recurring asker, i suggest you end your asks with a signature or pseudonym. You don’t have to tell me your name or anything - unless you want to? If you give me a pseudonym or nickname, i’ll start tagging your posts with the nickname so you can find the questions i have answered for you that are public more easily!

i HIGHLY suggest you give me feedback if possible. like i stated previously, I am doing this mostly for practice, and I wont be able to know whether or not i’m doing a good job if you dont tell me how i did. Of course, you don’t have to give me feedback as soon as i answer your ask; you can wait as long as necessary until you know for certain whether or not my responses were correct, or just send in an ask saying whether or not my responses resonated with you or felt correct to you at all.

If you find that you need my assistance more often than i am able to provide, I suggest you look into picking up divination and a pendulum yourself! i promise it’s not as hard as it looks; just a quick google search or search on tumblr itself can get you started! I’ll also update this section later with resources i’ve used myself in the past for those of you who are looking to become pendulum users yourselves. you can also ask me how i use my pendulum; i’ll be making a page detailing how i use mine later.

Looks like you’ve made it to the end of my post, congrats! sorry if it was needlessly lengthy or redundant at all, I’m stupid and not good at making things brief and to the point. as a reward, here’s an epic song.

hope to see you in my askbox soon! avery, teleport!