#just felt necessary to get into a little bit; to clarify what i’m saying

[thestrangerblog]

Hair care

Author's note: Here comes my first Percabeth fanfic, a fluffy little showverse story, because I haven't read the books yet. I think Annabeth needs a little pampering and Percy is there to do it.

I'm white, so forgive me if I got the hair care for black girls wrong, all I know about that is from Youtube Videos.

Hair Care

Percy had just taken a much needed shower after returning to camp from his quest to find the lightning bolt. He was on his way back to the Poseidon cabin when he ran into Annabeth who was on her way to the camp showers. Percy stopped in his tracks and couldn’t help but stare.

Annabeth had unbraided her hair which totally changed her appearance. Her hair was all over her head in a wild mess. To him it looked like a halo or a gigantic crown.

“Shut your mouth, seaweed-brain or you’ll start drooling when you’re awake, too.”

Only now did Percy realize that he had been staring open-mouthed at Annabeth. He took her advice and quickly shut his mouth, only to open it again a moment later to say something.

“You look... different.”

“I unbraided my hair so I can wash it,” Annabeth said with an eye-roll.

“I didn’t realize your hair looks like this naturally.”

Percy felt really dumb, but that wasn’t unusual in Annabeth’ company.

“What, messy and filthy?” she asked aggressively.

“No! No, that’s not... I swear I didn’t mean that!” Percy stuttered, slightly panicked. “There’s just... so much of it. It looks fluffy.”

“Fluffy?” Annabeth asked, raising an eyebrow. “What am I, a rabbit?”

But she sounded amused, not angry, so Percy assumed he hadn’t offended her.

Percy laughed. “No, you don’t give rabbit vibes. I think you’d be something more impressive. And smarter of course. An owl maybe, with being Athena’s daughter and all.”

“And you’d be a monkey. One of those tiny ones, maybe a lemur. Loud, annoying, silly, but somehow you not only get away with it, but people even bring you treats,” Annabeth said.

“I don’t know if this was an insult or a compliment.”

“A bit of both, I guess.”

Percy didn’t know what else to say, but also didn’t want to just go away. During the last week he and Annabeth had nearly always been together and he had a feeling that he would feel lonely without her in the big, empty Poseidon cabin.

“Speaking of treats. I still have some of the candies my mother gave me before I left for camp. She works at a candy shop and gets to take home free samples sometimes. Want to come over and share them with me after your shower? Maybe we could borrow a laptop from someone and watch a movie.”

Percy saw Annabeth visibly hesitating.

“I’d really like that, but it’ll take a while for me to be done in the showers and I’m pretty tired. I guess I would just fall asleep 5 minutes into the movie.”

Percy was surprised at that. He had only taken 10 minutes in the shower even though he needed to wash off a week’s dirt. He hadn’t thought Annabeth was the high maintenance type of girl who took forever in the bathroom. Considering that Percy had had enough near death experiences over the past week he decided not to voice his thoughts. But apparently that wasn’t necessary. Either his facial expression had given him away or Annabeth could read his mind.

The girl rolled her eyes. “My hair needs a lot more work to not look like a mess then yours, seaweed-brain. Getting the tangles out takes forever and needs more than just shampoo.”

“Oh.”

Should he have known that? Was it dumb or insensitive of him not to know that?

“I could help,” he offered spontaneously. “With the hair, not with the shower!” he quickly clarified, blushing.

After everything Annabeth had done for him he really wanted to give something back. And he was somehow fascinated with the way her hair looked unbraided and really wanted to know how it felt to touch it.

“You want to come with me into the girls restrooms?” she asked.

“No, you could just come to my cabin after your shower.”

“Do you have a sink in your cabin?” Annabeth asked.

Now it was Percy’s turn to give Annabeth an eye-roll, a deeply satisfying experience.

“I’m the son of Poseidon, wise-girl. I don’t need a sink, I can just get a bucket of water and make the water move like with a shower-head.”

“Really?” Annabeth asked, sounding impressed. She was impressed by him!

Percy shrugged. “I practiced a little when I was alone in the cabin and couldn’t sleep.”

“Okay, I’ll humor you and let you give me a demonstration. But no sea water. That will only make it worse.”

Percy got the bucket he had for his water experiments from his cabin and filled it with warm water in the boys shower. Annabeth arrived at his cabin only a few minutes later. She had changed her clothes, but her hair was dry, meaning she apparently hadn’t started with whatever washing routine she had.

“Okay, I have the water and I know how to use shampoo, but apart from that I’m pretty lost, so I’ll need a bit of help,” Percy admitted.

Annabeth nodded. She had lived in a cabin with siblings of both sexes and from different ethnicities for five years now (apparently her mother didn’t have a type), so she knew that hair care was much easier for white kids, especially for boys.

“Okay, so, my hair needs a lot of moisture. I actually start with a conditioner and a lot of water and then slowly detangle my hair, first with my fingers, then with a tangle teaser brush. Then I use shampoo, then conditioner again and in the end I put oil in my hair and leave it in.”

Percy nodded. “Doesn’t sound too difficult.

Annabeth laughed. “You won’t repeat that after you have started getting the tangles out.”

“Okay, I thought you could just sit in a chair, I stand behind you and put the water bucket next to us.”

“Sounds good to me,” Annabeth said.

Annabeth sat down and Percy stood behind the chair and let the water come out of the basket in a little fountain that went to Annabeth head and then back into the basket and up again in a circuit.

Annabeth looked impressed. “You really have practiced a lot.”

Percy shrugged. “Not really. It didn’t take long for me to get it right. Anything with water comes naturally to me. Would you like a blanket or something for your neck to be more comfortable?”

Annabeth looked surprised to be asked that, but nodded. “That would be nice, thank you.”

Percy rolled the blanket from his bed and put it at the back of the chair so Annabeth could lean back comfortably. He gently put his hands on her hair and guided it to get it soaked with water. It really was fluffy. When Annabeth’ hair was thoroughly wet which took surprisingly long Percy took the conditioner Annabeth had brought with her and gently started untangling Annabeth hair. She had been right, it really wasn’t that easy to detangle the thick strands, but Percy didn’t mind. He started at the neck and gently untangled Annabeth’ hair strand for strand. Then he carefully brushed her hair out. Then he put shampoo in his hands and gently lathered Annabeth’ hair with it. Now he could easily get through her locks with his fingers. He made sure that the shampoo got everywhere, gently massaging Annabeth scalp while foaming the shampoo. Annabeth had closed her eyes during the detangling and was now leaning back in the chair to give Percy better access. Her face didn’t have her usual cool and aloof expression, she looked emotional and to Percy’s surprise a tear escaped her. Annabeth had apparently noticed that, too and tensed. Percy, who had gotten good at fast reactions, let a bit of water run down Annabeth’ cheeks.

“Sorry,” Percy mumbled, making it look like an accident.

“It’s okay,” Annabeth said and relaxed again, now that she didn’t have to worry about controlling her reactions to the tender care anymore.

Now it was Percy who had to control himself when he realized how foreign tenderness must be to Annabeth. He took a deep breath to control his sudden anger at Annabeth’ family and concentrated on the task at hand. In this moment he swore to himself to give Annabeth as much affection as possible whenever he got a chance.

Percy washed away the shampoo with water before stopping his make-shift fountain and then put conditioner in Annabeth hair again, spreading it thoroughly. Then he applied the oil and rubbed Annabeth’ hair with the towel until it wasn’t dripping anymore.

Annabeth stood up and faced Percy, looking insecure and almost shy, what was so strange for her.

“Thank you, Percy.”

Percy smiled. “You’re welcome. If you want to, I can always do your hair when we are at camp. You can teach me how to braid, if you want.”

“You’d do that?” Annabeth asked, surprised,

Percy nodded and hoped that it didn’t look too eager. He really loved going through Annabeth hair with his fingers and he enjoyed being able to spend time alone with her.

“Yes, I’d like that.”

[tizzypizza]

im not sure if posting about this is necessary, but for full transparency i wanted to say that i got rid of the little disclaimer under the trans blahaj post because after a user pointed it out i realized damn that does sour it a bit doesn’t it.

i do want to reiterate it here though for folks who may be coming in from that post— and this is just me recapping what i was basically saying— while i do love transmasc/enby shiver, it isn’t my main headcanon for them so you probably won’t be seeing much of that depiction on my profile. i wanted to clarify this to explain the lack of continuity in pronouns and depiction, given i have only ever used she/her for the character/sometimes have drawn them in an overtly feminine way. i don’t want to run the risk of making trans folk who find comfort in trans depictions of shiver uncomfortable by suddenly going back to posting them with, say, an unoperated chest after having just drawn them with top scars, so i wanted to flag people down. i do still love trans shiver (especially androgynous enby shiver), but it’s like a neighboring headcanon for me if that makes sense.

all of that being said, however, you are obviously free to interpret the shiver i draw as enby or transmasc if you’d like! i have both enby and transmasc mutuals who use she/her and MANY (most?) of them are non/pre-op. i just wanted to clarify my depiction of her if that makes sense. again i’m not even sure if this is necessary or if i even worded this right, but i felt like just getting rid of that disclaimer without any warning was weird. if i fucked something up feel free to flag me down!

[oddballwriter]

EMH Guys w/ a Vampire S/O

Warnings: mentions of vampires, drinking blood, biting. Evan and Jeff are lowkey freaky with it and so theres some suggestive content at the ends of their parts, watch for the bumper.

Author’s Snip: I’m having vampire brain rot yet again and I also don’t see anyone else making shit where the reader is the vampire so I guess I have carry us yet again.

Notes: Just as an fyi. Unlike my vampire with HABIT, you are a vampire who cares about humanity and people because that makes sense for them and also fuck you I make the rules lol. (lh) Also I’m writing this as an in general thing to their characters.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy!

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Evan

He gets it

He has an ancient multi-dimentional demon that likes to use him as a host to commit literal crimes against humanity and torture and kill his friends, and you have a hunger for blood that you always need to feed and that doesn’t really discriminate on the term of humanity and morals

So yeah he kind of gets it

Evan kind of levels with you a lot when you’re having a rough time considering you still have your humanity but need to do terrible things to feed something that you possibly didn’t ask to haveHe knows what that’s like

He will be your personal parasol and do everything in his power to keep you out of the sun 

He will also swear off eating anything garlic if you’re gonna be near him and or wearing silver around you

He also always invites you cause you know, you can’t enter houses cause all the doors and windows have a cross patterns on them

That is unless he left a window open though

He does get a little freaked out when you have to feed off something but he’ll get used to it

He asks if you have any special abilities like being able to shape shift or hang upside down 

He also asks what the turning process is and how you become a vampire

▀▄▀▄This bit is a bit suggestive and spicy so beware and MINORS GET OUT ▀▄▀▄

He’s asking this because he wants you to bite him, but he doesn’t know how if that’s how you turn, different iterations have different ways people turn, he needs to know

Listen he’s already got an actual demon in him who already has a blood thirst, he doesn’t need one of his own after fucking

But yeah, I’ll say it. The boy wants you to bite him

He thinks it’d be hot as fuck

He swears that he’ll be fine, he’ll tell you when he’s getting light headed

But you do need some self control because he might get too into it

He tries so hard to talk you into it 

I mentioned that he has a secret thing for marking in the hickey post okay??

Evan’s lowkey a horny and freaky bitch 

The fandom agrees with me on this

He is however, respectful if you don’t want to do that

Vinny

He’s scared of you a bit

Listen vampires don’t get a good wrap in fiction so who knows wtf you’re like

He makes you swear to never pull shit like try to bite him, which you keep by

You weren’t really planning it anyways

Vinny knows that he kind of shouldn’t be too scared because he’s seen what HABIT and Slender can do/have been doing so he kinda shouldn’t be scared of you but he still is

It takes him a while to get used to you and realize that you’re not a threat to him in anyway

He then asks some questions without being too invasive or too stupid

That’s when he learns that you kind of just have this never ending blood thirst that you just need to feed every once in a while

He does feel slightly inconvenienced that you can only come out at night cause of the sun

But he knows you can’t help it

Once he learns about the door and windows thing he lets you know that you’re always welcomed to his place so that you don’t need to ask every time

He does make you swear that you will only use doors and never use a window

That sounds dumb but he felt like that was necessary to clarify

He let you bite him once just to see what it felt like and it freaked him out too much

Even if he gets used to you, he’ll always be freaked out when you drink blood in front of him so he asks you not to do that 

Jeff

He’s freaked out about it but calms down once he realizes you still have your humanity

He thinks you’re pretty neat and will ask a bunch of questions

He asks what the vampire stories got wrong or right

He has trouble sleeping so he kind of doesn’t mind you only being around at night 

Similar to Evan, he makes sure you are as safe from the sun as possible and that he doesn’t have things that can hurt you

I’m not saying that you can, but if you wanna imagine that you can turn into a bat, he 100% holds you and has you in his pockets and hair all the time 

And I know that it’d be comfy af in there 

His hair looks s o f t

He won’t asked how you became a vampire in case its a bad memory for you 

 ▀▄▀▄This bit’s suggestive and spicy too MINORS GET OUT ▀▄▀▄

As soon as he finds out that (at least in the sake of this post) a bite doesn’t mean a turning...

He also very much, wants you to bite him cause he thinks it’s hot as fuck

It might not be a marking thing like with Ev but he’s still into it

Let him have this please

You probably need to practice or have some self control too cause he might get lost in it a bit

He won’t make you if you don’t want to either but if you’re down this man is giving full consent

Just do it in a spot like his collar cone or shoulder 

[commanderbuffy]

I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this since we found out Airk doesn’t know about Madmartigan, but I’m struggling to put my thoughts in order. I’m a little afraid you are going to take this as a critique, but I promise it’s not! I’m just having fun psychoanalyzing fictional situations. :)

I don’t see any difference between what Kit and Sorsha are doing to Airk in TTA and what everyone was doing to Kit in Armourium. I never really felt fully comfortable blaming people for keeping things from Kit in Armourium because they did it out of love. I especially didn’t like the idea that Kit never forgave Airk. He thought she might die, if he came clean! Was the outcome good? No. Were poor choices made on everyone’s part? Yes. The thing is, that they did this on the advice of professionals and all felt horrible and, deep down, knew it was a temporary fix.

In TTA, it seems genuinely cruel to keep this from Airk. This isn’t a life and death decision for his health, his dad (HIS DAD!) is alive and the people he loves most are keeping it from him. Keeping it from him as a child was probably not the best idea, but I fully understand it. But now, at 26, Airk deserves to know. Airk deserves to be angry. At his dad, obviously, but also at Sorsha and Kit. They kind of screwed him over. They need to sit down and apologize and explain everything from the beginning. This cat, literally, can’t stay in the bag. There’s no way this story is staying hidden until Airk’s death; the world doesn’t work that way. TTA Kit and Sorsha need to do better than the crew in Armourium, being willing to lose Airk in his anger for a while, with the hope that he will return. If they don’t, he will find out, and they might lose him forever.

To clarify: I know TTA is fiction, and it’s obviously not your responsibility to write this!! I’m just looking at this story and realizing that this is a problem with flawed, realistic, human characters, and I am imagining how things would need to go in the future after our girls get their HEA.

-Producer 3/Numbered Theories anon

hello! sorry it took a couple days for me to get to this ask. sometimes i put off answering asks that require me to think a good bit because I like to answer long ones from my computer vs. my phone, and sometimes the asks get buried as well (since I'm saving all the lovely playlist recommendation asks and they tend to bury asks some times)

I think the biggest distinction between Kit/Sorsha keeping Mads from Airk in TTA and everyone keeping secrets from Kit in Armouriam comes down to the secret that's being kept and how it relates to agency.

In Armouriam, the secrets being kept from Kit were Kit's life and history and truths about herself. Things that everyone in her life knew except her. Keeping the secrets kept Kit's agency away from her and the knowledge of decisions she herself had already made. With Airk in TTA, there's one secret and it's a decision someone else made (that of course impacts him).

Yes, there's overlap! Both involve keeping critical information from a family member that would inform their worldview and directly relates to them. And you raise a good point that in Armouriam, they thought keeping the secrets was necessary for Kit's health. And in Armouriam, I really leaned into that. It was messy and there wasn't a straightforward right answer. They weren't in the wrong for keeping the secrets even though it ended up being the wrong thing to do.

In TTA, Kit and Sorsha are hiding the secret from Airk to protect him. And you're right, that does take agency away from him. He should be allowed to know the truth. Sorsha's reasons for not telling Airk are both selfish and selfless. She doesn't want to cause Airk pain, but she also doesn't want him to hate her for A. not telling him sooner and B. not fighting harder for him to stay (which is not a reaction Airk would have, but a fear Sorsha has that that would be his reaction). On Kit's part, her reason for not telling Airk is more selfless. She knows her twin better than anyone in the world, and she knows how hurt he would be and how much he would blame himself for Kit's pain. So, she sees it as sparing him.

People are messy. I don't really think there is a right answer as to whether Kit should tell Airk or not. She was a child when she learned and it kinda fucked her up long term. She has really solid reasons not to tell Airk. They also have no reason to believe that there's any possibility Airk would find out without one of them telling him.

Airk is not going to learn the truth about Mads in TTA. Partially because it's not relevant to the arc of this story. That's not to say I might not explore that possibility in a one-shot though! You never know!

SORRY THIS WAS SUCH A LONG, RAMBLING RESPONSE.

[petracore101]

Don't you think the fallout from this finale is just like the response to vol.3? If you stayed after that why are you leaving now?

Honestly? No, I don’t really think the two responses are remotely the same. Nor were the emotional cores of the finales themselves.

(warning that this does get pretty critical, so.. yknow... dead dove, don’t eat.)

Don’t get me wrong, V3’s finale hurt. Even though a good chunk of the fandom saw the foreshadow-y writing on the wall, it still hurt. Our heroes failed, Beacon fell, Penny and Pyrrha died, and it was painful and tragic and heartbreaking. Especially coming after what was (for a lot of the fandom) a very difficult year. People took it hard, there was a lot of pain, and yeah, a fair bit of anger.

But there was nothing about the V3 finale that was unnecessary, from a writing perspective. The terrible things were the building blocks upon which the story could build- they lay the foundations for the arcs our characters needed to go through. And painful as they were, those moments were all treated with the utmost gravity and care within the narrative. Penny’s death in V3 was horrible, and that horror was reflected in the reactions of the crowd, of her friends, of Ruby. Yang’s maiming was brutal, and that brutality was reflected in the sudden style switch of the shot itself, in Blake’s desperate reaction, and in the response of her team when they reunited. Pyrrha’s death was tragic, and that tragedy was reflected in the buildup to her choice, in the efforts of her friends to save her, in the quiet sadness of her death, and in Ruby’s sorrow when she arrived too late. And in each case, we, the audience, were given time and attention within the narrative to come to terms with it. The lead up to the fall provided ample hints and foreshadowing. The groundwork was all there- we watched it unfold, saw the disaster coming before it struck. Simply rewatching the first 3 volumes makes it clear, this is where things were always headed. The tragedy was not simply that these things happened, but that they may have been prevented, if only our heroes had known some small piece of what we knew. Had seen what we had seen, as it was playing out. But they didn’t, so for them, it was all inevitable. Penny would always go cheerily into battle against an opponent who could unknowingly rip her to shreds. Yang would always launch herself at any danger to save Blake. Pyrrha would always give everything she had to protect those she loved. Even so, those moments were given such weight by the narrative. The pain of the characters and the audience was treated with care and respect, the scenes given time and a sorrowful focus as the truth of them sunk in. So while watching it play out was heartbreaking, it always made sense, always felt compelling. The characters did all they could with the knowledge they had, they just didn’t have the knowledge they needed. And even so, there was still hope. There was still light. There was still a chance for a better day.

And even while the fandom mourned, the overall response reflected those truths. We were heartbroken, but the focus was on coming to terms with the tragedy, not justifying how it was executed. But now? The conflict, the anger, the pain and frustration now? That’s not just coming from people trying to come to terms with Atlas’s fall or Penny’s death or RWBY’s plunge into the void... It’s coming from people upset with how they chose to do these things. Making Vine (who we have had maybe 1-2min worth of speaking lines from) blow himself up to save his teammates was tone deaf and lacked emotional depth, particularly after a series of events that relied on Harriet wanting to bomb a city of civilian refugees for reasons that were shakily developed at best. Turning Penny “human” just to kill her as bloodily as possible was unnecessary and cruel. And having her successfully commit suicide after a full volume of near-constant suicidal comments was just atrocious, no matter what warnings they put ahead of the ep. Having each member of RWB/Y fall (to their “deaths”, from the perspective of those still standing) after barely even landing hits on their opponents, then quickly moving on without pause was jarring and felt senseless. Lingering on Mantle and Atlas being utterly demolished but not showing any reaction from any of its former residents was callous and devoid of any emotional stakes. It leaves us with no hope, no depth, no stakes. Just shock, frustration, pain, confusion.

I liked V3 because the tragedy, the pain, it meant something. It made sense why things played out as they did, and that enhanced the tragedy of it all. But I did not like V7 or V8, because the plot points are not written to be meaningful, they are written to be painful for the sake of being painful. There’s no emotional depth to any of it, no time given to exploring the nuance of what it does to the characters involved, or narrative weight given to their response or that of the audience. The finale especially feels, to me, incredibly superficial. It is dark for the sake of darkness, like it resorts for shocking the audience as a cheap way to elicit an emotional response. And I have no interest in watching the characters I love be reduced to that kind of story. I’m not quitting the show because bad things happened. I’m out because I’m tired of incredibly serious things being treated so callously.

It’s fine if you disagree, it’s fine if you liked it, I’m not trying to ruin the show for anyone. If you continue to watch, I hope it continues to be what you’re looking for. But please do not act like those who are upset by this are simply angry it didn’t go their way. You do not have to agree with the criticisms or even understand where people are coming from. Just be kind.

[lavendermin]

from sea of flowers, garden of eternity | xiao

pairing | xiao/reader

word count | 2k

genre | pwp, fluff, light angst, brief smut

note | glaze lily spirit reader, you are also in perpetual pain I’m sorry

“Xiao…” he hears your voice meekly call.

The adeptus is already on his feet before you can fully enter the room, his eyes quickly focused on you. He scans your body language diligently, looking for signs of pain or discomfort. It’s become a routine by now.

“Are you…?” His voice trails off when you shake your head apologetically. The slight strain in your smile doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I’m alright for now. The pains haven’t started yet. I think I’m set for another few hours, a day if I’m lucky,” you reassure him. “I just— wanted to check on you.”

Xiao gives you a blank look, one you recognize as confusion. “Check… on me…?”

“Just to see how you’re doing,” you clarify with a shy smile. As you make your way to sit on the bed, you gently pat the space next to you.

There’s a slight red upon his cheeks as he chooses to take up your invitation. The bed dips under his weight, and words do not need to be spoken to know both your minds drift briefly to past trysts that took place where you sit.

“I’m heading out to patrol the area in an hour. If you need anything at all, speak my name,” Xiao announces quietly. It’s a brief awkward silence as he rigidly sits next to you—tense almost. You answer him with a simple nod, hands absentmindedly rubbing little circles on your legs to ease the tingles of pain that slowly resurfaced.

Conversation was scarce the past few months you were placed into his watchful guard. The relationship you both harbored was a blurred line you tried not to think about too much for fear of over-complicating it.

And with your entire being, you could say you came to the unfortunate doom of falling in love with him. The emotional distance he kept oftentimes only confused you as much as your own emotions left him puzzled and a little flustered.

He kept you alive. That was the simplicity of the details Xiao was given. Perhaps it was a favor he was doing you, but he diligently carried it out with all the steadfastness of a contract bestowed onto him by the former Lord of Geo.

—

“I’m sure you are aware of the situation near Qingce Village,” Zhongli had brought up upon summoning Xiao several moons after the stirrings of a slumbering god.

Though the situation was previously dire, all was settled—Xiao knew this as a fact, for he was the one that swiftly took care of the aftermath of a dormant god’s power seeping through the earth. So, the battle hadn’t ended then…

“I was careless—“

Zhongli cut him off, carefully setting down his cup in its saucer. “On the contrary, this was in no way able to be foreseen by you. The world has a way of ending and raising new questions, just as easily as it provides answers to those who seek them.”

On the small garden table, Zhongli’s eyes trail to the glaze lily that sits in a small decorative vase. Unlike most, this lone flower is fully bloomed despite the time of day. It glows ever so slightly—weakly almost.

“You are aware that glaze lilies grow in the Qingce area, and there are a few wild outcroppings that shy away from prying eyes,” Zhongli starts.

His gloved finger reaches out to tenderly graze the petals, and at once the flower closes up. The petals take on a dullness, and visibly they start to wilt in small patches.

“The reasons are uncertain, but rumor spread around the village of a wandering ghost that followed the moon aimlessly. A spirit born of glaze lilies appeared after the battle that took place near there. It seems the power seeped deep into cracked earth among the flowerbeds.”

The young adeptus remained quiet, taking in the information. What exactly did this have to do with him, he wondered?

With a hint of apprehension, Xiao asks, “This spirit—has it taken on a malevolent nature?”

Instead of answering straight away, Zhongli wordlessly stands and makes his way back indoors. Xiao obediently follows, curious of the nature of this spirit.

“Nothing of the sort. However, these glaze lilies fell victim to the corruption of your karmic debt and at the same time were nurtured by immense adeptal power. There is a wavering balance that must be kept, for her body is as fragile as a flower’s and cannot withstand the depletion and shifts of adeptal energy.” With graceful steps, Zhongli stops before a door. “No other adeptus has successfully remained compatible with the energy she needs. So far it has only brought excruciating pain for her, and I fear she may die at this rate.”

With a silent nod, Xiao processes this information. His gloved hand is unmoving on the door handle.

“What are the terms of this contract,” Xiao silently asks, amber eyes trained on the door in front of him.

“My time has long passed to give you a new contract, Adeptus Xiao.” Zhongli chuckles fondly at the serious habits of the adeptus before him. “This is a choice I am giving you. It may take centuries for her body to adjust to the adeptal power she now harbors. If she is compatible with you, it is up to you to decide whether you supply her with your adeptal energy, otherwise she may not make it past next week.”

Xiao remains quiet for a brief moment before speaking softly, “Her body is tearing itself apart…”

“Correct.”

There’s something in that fact that stirs feelings Xiao isn’t used to in his chest. He accepts, and the first memory of you that adorns his mind is one that clenches his heart in a way he rarely experiences. The pain that twists and contorts your face as you desperately heave, body seemingly tearing itself apart in a way the naked eye cannot see.

You’re a beautiful tragedy born of moonlight and sweet soil. And in that moment when your eyes meet his, a single tear rolls down your cheek. He cannot fathom the thought of letting your life end as quickly as it began.

The door behind him clicks shut, and he takes your fragile life into his hands.

—

The lights of the house are dim—a subtle golden glow against a comforting darkness in the blanket of night. A meadow of glaze lilies surrounds the little cottage in a sea of fragrance. A prominent mark of your abode.

The little house defended by mountains is secluded, one which Zhongli sent to be made for you while your body stabilizes.

And though the exterior is tranquil, within its walls come soft pants and gasps. Xiao’s brows are knit together in concentration as he ruts against you.

“Please—Ah…nnh a–again,” you beg against your trembling body’s protests.

And he wordlessly complies, folding your legs until your knees are practically at the sides of your head. His hips pick up the pace and his thrusts become desperate, bodies covered in a sheen of sweat. The moans you let out are loud—obscene as he fills you up until you’re overflowing. The pains have long subsided, and you choose to let him overcompensate in giving you the energy that will get you by another few days.

In the serene calm of night, the tranquility is drowned out by the squelching sounds of your bodies meeting each other through desperate thrusts as both of you are sent over the edge. His name falls from your lips in a melody Xiao has grown addicted to. For the nth time that night you come undone beneath him, your essence stabilized.

There’s a swelling warmth in your chest that blooms like spring meadows as Xiao buries his face in the crook of your neck. The tips of his ears are a bright scarlet and though he tries to control it, he is still left a breathless mess as he rides out his orgasm.

“Is it…enough?” Xiao asks between pants, his cock still buried deep within you.

He’s still twitching within you and your entire body shudders with delight at the feeling.

“You… haah—can keep… going if you want,” you offer weakly. There’s a dazed look in your half-lidded eyes that makes Xiao’s chest squeeze. “‘M full but you’re still…”

Hard.

You glance down to where you two are still joined together, the view of his come leaking out of you shamelessly sending heat between your legs again. The tips of Xiao’s ears turn bright red though he tries to remain composed.

“I’ll be fine. You should get some rest to preserve the energy longer.”

He pulls out and ignores the way your eyes look away dejectedly. Before he can stand to go, your hand gently tugs him back down. Xiao allows himself to be pulled against you, his head resting in the valley of your naked chest.

“Stay with me for a bit?”

Xiao doesn’t answer right away, and your heart leaps when he lets out a little sigh and agrees.

“Alright.”

The minutes tick by in tranquil silence. Both tired bodies ignore the sticky feeling of sweat and sex. It’s a feeling you’re both quite used to by now.

“Xiao?” you start quietly after a while. He hums in response, your fingers running through his dark hair soothingly. “Can I kiss you?”

The question is soft, self-conscious almost with the fear of rejection. But you were beyond a breaking point. The feelings were welling up in your chest like a high tide as you felt him tense up at your question.

Sex was common—quite often as a means of easily transferring adeptal energy to you. And because it was a painful process to take in, you found that this method dulled the pain through the twisted pleasures and mixed sensations.

But that’s all it was— a means to keep you alive. You could never say there was a time Xiao kissed you and he always showed restraint in touching your body more than necessary. His bodily needs were never foremost on his mind and he would never tell you how his hands ached to roam your body, how this arrangement became an illusion of a different reality he couldn’t have. And so he locked away his emotions for his own sake.

Xiao lifted his face from your chest, his golden eyes wide with momentary confusion—perhaps even shock. And your face… those wonderful sparkling eyes that glistened with glossy tears on the brink of rolling down your face. He wished he wasn’t the reason you were crying.

In an instant he propped himself up on his forearms, feeling you lightly tremble beneath him from holding back the urge to cry. A quiet hiccup left you as you were overwhelmed by bottled up feelings all at once, his thumb gently brushing your tears away.

“Why?” was all he asked.

Though it was a genuine question, his actions remained tender and calmed the anxiety that gripped your naive heart.

“Because I love you—because I think I love you.”

Quietly you hiccuped beneath him and Xiao gently rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed.

“Then love me if it makes you happy,” he responds softly. The tears that twinkle down your face like falling stars are gently kissed away by his soft lips. “I’m with you until the day I die, and if loving me makes living less painful for you then use me as an anchor to reality.”

Your soft crying is hushed as Xiao presses a tender kiss to your lips. It’s short and just enough to bloom your heart with newfound emotions you had yet to experience. Perhaps you reminded the adeptus of himself in a simpler time—naive, innocent. For that, he took pity on you, and also fell deeply in love with you though he would not know it for a long time.

Simply put, he wouldn’t allow himself to know it.

The flowers that surround the small house glow and dance in the night breeze. They bloom with your newfound knowledge—heartache.

[lazyliars]

/rp

Before I get into it, I want to state that is EXPLICITLY an analysis of the Characters, and is not intended to touch on how the cc’s played them in a meta sense unless specifically stated otherwise.

Also, this is technically a part two to my other post, which took a more in depth look at Techno and Phil’s reactions to Tommy’s death. It’s not necessary when reading this post, but I don’t address their reactions here.

So. The question must be asked.

Are we [the Syndicate] the baddies?

Yes.

The End.

 Why are the Syndicate the baddies?

They got damn logo is a wither skull.

The End.

That's not how this works.

Yeah, yeah. You’re right.

The Syndicate's goals as an organization are not inherently bad. They seem to have good intentions behind them, and the focus on the freedom of it's individual group members is important to remember when talking about it; It is not a government. There is no hierarchical power system. No one is forced to do anything against their will, or surrender any of their rights or power to remain a member. It is not a government.

I also want to address Techno and Phil backing Ranboo into a corner – I see them getting a lot of flack for this, but I personally do not think it is relevant to the greater discussion, or necessarily representative of any contradictions within the organization. It was clearly played for laughs, and after they back off they clarify to Ranboo that they won't force him. Then later when Phil and Ranboo are alone, Ranboo feels safe enough to express that he felt like he was pressured into it, and Phil assures him he is allowed to leave whenever he wants; He is not being forced to do anything, and he is not being coerced or blackmailed.

None of the Syndicate members have done any wrongs against each other in the context of the Syndicate, OR gone against any of the Syndicate's core principles.

That, said, holy shit are they the baddies.

Listen, there's trying to telegraph a meaning or message to the audience and then there's having your logo be wither skulls on blackstone. That is straight out of the skit I keep referencing, seriously.

Okay, but, they laughed at it! It was played as a joke, just like the Ranboo thing!

The Ranboo thing was improv, the Syndicate's headquarters were planned – the artistic choices that they made reflect on what role they want the build and the organization inhabiting it to play in the future storylines.

Wither Skulls kind of have some CONNOTATIONS. Techno is an English major, I don't think he chose the most threatening imagery possible on accident, and then joked about the way people would interpret it just to stir the pot. This reads as hugely intentional.

And beyond that, the jokes they make during this part aren't “haha yeah, we look bad but we're actually good!” they're “you can tell by looking at these that we're the good guys wink wink, this is good guy stuff right here :)” It is a joke about how they are definitely not the good guys. This isn't even a case of unreliable narrators, this is one step down from flat out saying the meta intent.

But okay, I hear you, I'm talking about things that haven't happened yet. The Syndicate hasn't used any Withers, they could be an aesthetic choice.  Lets look at what they do in practice.

So, they barge into private property, assess Snowchester's right to continue existing based entirely on their own ideals of what Freedom is, and then only once Tubbo assures them that they have no standing leader do they grant the place their approval to, and I gotta stress this part, continue existing.

 In my Quackity meta, I already talked about how Government in the context of a M1necraft RP cannot be compared to IRL Governments on a one-to-one scale. They don't serve the same purposes or have the same type of power. What I didn't talk about was Agency in the context of m1necraft governments.

In an irl government, if you are born into one, you can't really leave without committing a massive overhaul on your life, which can be expensive and difficult, if not impossible for many people. Even in a “benevolent” government, the simple physicality of where you were born can prevent you from leaving it easily.

The same hurdles do not exist in the Dream SMP. People who join M1necraft governments choose to. They want to, either at the beginning when they form one, or later on when they join up. So far, no Government has just Sprung Up and forced the current residents of an area to become dependent on them, except maybe the Eggpire, who's status as a government is... shakey.

And even when people want to leave or separate from the government, they have been historically able to do so without any trouble or any effort from said governments to stop them. Jack Manifold emancipated from Manberg. Fundy and Quackity both left to start new nations. In all cases they were allowed to do so without any attempts on the part of the governments to stop them, either through force, or institutions preventing them from doing so.

The most anyone has lost when leaving a government is their house, which is still usually their property anyway, and is something that is easily rebuilt elsewhere and is inconvenient to move anyway.

The only exceptions to this might be Schlatt exiling Wilbur and Tommy - but even then, they weren’t trying to leave, they were trying to get back in, and of course the original L’manberg revolution, where Dream attempted to force L’manberg back into the Dream SMP, which wasn’t even a government at that point in time.

I don’t consider Phil’s house arrest an example of a government forcing someone to stay a citizen - that was treated less as a matter of a citizen wanting to leave the country and more as a threat to national security. Still pretty fucked up, but it’s a different issue.

What I'm saying is, If Tubbo wants to create a government out in the middle of nowhere, threatening no one, forcing no one to join either through force or desperation, and allowing people to join willingly because they want to, then he should be allowed to do that.

The Irony of the Syndicate, a group of people consisting of some of the richest, strongest people on the server, going around and enforcing 'Freedom' that entails no one person having more power than any other, is absurd. 

It shows an extreme lack of self-awareness and/or self-righteousness, as they seem to think that they deserve to be the ones who decide what constitutes a government.

Snowchester is a small independent nation - they shouldn’t have to live in fear of being obliterated if they don’t walk on eggshells to meet an arbitrary standard decided by people who’s only authority on the matter COMES FROM THEIR PERSONAL POWER. No one elected them! No one chose them! They were not “approved” by the server at large to enact this kind of law.

The Syndicate are not a government, but they are an unsupervised power structure exerting their ideals on a land that did not ask for them. Like, These people have invented an actual Authoritarian-Anarchist faction. How the hell did they manage this?????

Back on topic.

Tubbo shows them the crater left by his nukes. The reaction is oddly positive – the nukes are fine by the morals of the Syndicate, apparently. I'd argue that they come across as more impressed than anything else; they seem to respect Tubbo for having gotten ahold of “real” power.

(There's a few good memes out there about “We can excuse nuclear weaponry, but we draw the line at Government!”)

So. By the Syndicate's standards: A single person or group of acceptably equal persons with weapons of mass-destruction are only worth “keeping an eye on” because they might provoke other people.

Like, I consider Project Dreamcatcher to be one of, if not the most morally ambiguous thing Tubbo has ever done, largely because it was all on his own initiative. He holds some culpability for The Butcher Army and Phil's house arrest, but they weren't his ideas and he was mostly following Quackity at that point.

And Phil tells Tubbo, IMMEDIATELY AFTER SEEING THE NUCLEAR CRATER:

“Looks like you've reformed a little bit Tubbo, I'm proud.”

And it's fine. Crimes against nature? Fine. A sign of healing in fact!! Tubbo is having a sweeeelll time and he definitely didn't make these nukes specifically in fear of being attacked by these exact people! Tubbo is doing great. Tubbo is doing fine. Tubbo. is. FINE.

Anyway.

I don't think this presentation of the Syndicate was an accident. Looking at the greater lore of SMP right now, after the Egg is done, their list of enemies is slim, and considering that they seem solely invested in taking down governments, that leaves maybe Snowchester, Kinoko Kingdom, and Eret and the greater Dream SMP.

Snowchester has not been shown to be corrupt, evil, or have any intent to go down that route. The most ambiguous thing they've done is, again, is the nukes. Other than that, it's pretty much your average cottagecore snow village.

Kinoko is presented in an even more morally 'good' light, Karl having founded it specifically for his Time-travel library purposes, which are currently being treated by the narrative as a selfless act, if not downright heroic.

Eret is also a fairly 'good' aligned character atm. He's been on that redemption grind since the og betrayal, and doesn't seem keen on backtracking. He's actively tried to leverage his position as king to make things better, and hasn't been quiet about that. He was also 'validated' by Tommy*, a character who has been described both by his allies and enemies as “the hero,” so take that as you will.

What I'm getting at is, all of the current potential enemies for the Syndicate aside from the Egg, are currently being cast as 'good,' and if they were to be attacked, they would undoubtedly have the moral high-ground, unless something drastically changed.

The only potential shakeups I can think of is are a Dream escape and/or a Wilbur revival, both of which could draw the Syndicate's attention and ire, depending on how things go. That said, it's just as likely that either or both of them would join the Syndicate – Dream still has that favor, and Phil and Techno both seemed to think Wilbur would've agreed with their blowing up L'manberg.

Both of those characters are currently **villains – the fact that they're both prime candidates for the Syndicate is a huge indication of the direction it's going to go as the plot moves forward.

((*I know some people are gonna come at me for painting Tommy as the “deciding factor” of what is morally good, so lemme just stop you there. I'm not talking about Tommy somehow having the 'right' to decide who is and isn't good, and definitely not the right to decide who should and shouldn't be king. I'm saying that Tommy, a character who the narrative treats as, if not a good person, then a person who is trying to be good, was in support of Eret, a character who has also been trying to be good.

Eret doesn't gain the moral highground because Tommy said so, he gets it because a character who the narrative treats as trying to do better, acknowledged Eret's earnest attempts at doing the same.

**I'm referring to Wilbur here as a villain because Tommy seemed convinced he would be if he were to be brought back. There is always the possibility that he's wrong.))

So, to summarize this: I read the Syndicate as being intentionally positioned as future antagonists, if not outright villains of a future arc. They are NOT a Government but their goals are contradictory with their means, and it is important to keep in mind that they plan to enforce their own brand of freedom on people who did not grant them either the authority or permission to do so.

So, uh. Can you tell I loved these streams? They were seriously so good. I kept switching between Ranboo and Techno's POV's trying to keep up with everything. I still have to watch Niki's!

All in all, I'm super, super excited for whats coming next, egg stuff, Syndicate stuff, Tommy stuff, all of it.

[bluejayblueskies]

Hello! I love your writing, the hand holding over the table was so much feelings <3 can I prompt 29. tickling the other one? No pressure :-)

touches prompt list

thank you for your patience with this anon! i offer you some scottish safehouse jonmartin fluff <3

.

It starts when Martin wraps his arms around Jon’s midsection while Jon is cooking, fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of Jon’s sides, and Jon flinches so hard he drops the wooden spoon in the pot of red sauce.

“Oh, shit. S-sorry,” Martin says. He pulls his hands back quickly, but they touch Jon’s sides again as he retracts them. Jon can’t help the high, reedy sound that escapes him, and he feels his cheeks grow warm.

“It’s—fine.” Jon fishes the spoon out of the pot, wrinkling his nose at it before depositing it unceremoniously in the sink. “Just, um.” He debates the pros and cons of being honest before mumbling, “I’m rather … ticklish.”

“Oh.” Martin’s forehead creases, like he can’t quite decide what he’s supposed to do with that information. “On your sides?”

“Y-yes. And, um.” Jon looks down at the ground, then at a random point over Martin’s shoulder. “A-and … everywhere?”

Martin raises an eyebrow. “Everywhere?” he echoes.

“Well.” Jon frowns. “N-not everywhere, I suppose. My nose is, er, relatively safe, a-and my fingers.” He taps his fingers on his thighs a few times. “I just … have really sensitive skin. A-and I don’t…”

He trails off. It feels too vulnerable, suddenly, to say that he’s really not touched often by gentle hands, so every feather-light brush of skin against his is like a shock to his system. “I don’t usually have to worry about it,” he says instead, which seems vague enough. He thinks Martin understands what he’s really saying, though, because a moment later, a hand is on his (touching, Jon notes, only the fingers) and a kiss is pressed gently to the tip of his nose.

“Well,” Martin says softly. “I can be more careful from now on if you’d like.”

Jon flushes. “Ah. It’s not…” He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, then settles for candor over subtlety. “It’s not a bad feeling.”

“Oh?”

Jon’s flush deepens, and he squeezes his eyes shut. “I … I like it when you touch me. A-and I don’t … want you to stop.”

Martin sounds amused—and slightly flustered—when he says, “I can touch you without tickling you, Jon.”

“I know,” Jon says, a bit petulantly. He takes a breath. “But I … I want you to.”

Martin lets out a small huff of laughter. “You want me to tickle you? Just … whenever?”

“If you don’t want to,” Jon says sullenly, “we don’t have to do it.”

“No, I—I do want to, I just…” Martin squeezes Jon’s hand once. “I want to make sure that I’m understanding you correctly.” Then, he brushes a finger gently along the inside of Jon’s wrist, and a small shudder runs through Jon’s body.

“Yes, that’s…” Jon trails off and simply nods. He hesitates, then reaches forward and takes Martin’s other hand in his so they’re clasped together, palm to palm. “I … I trust you, Martin. I—I know that you’d stop, if I asked, and … it’s nice. To be vulnerable like this.” Jon pinches his lips together for a moment. “Does—does that make any sense at all?”

“Yeah,” Martin says gently. “It does.” Then, quieter: “Thank you, Jon.”

Jon nods. The back of his throat is tight with unnamed emotions, and he swallows a few times in an attempt to clear them away. “A-and besides, I … I think this could be fun.”

Martin’s smile is gently teasing. “Fun? In this cottage? Surely not.”

“Ha ha.”

Martin’s smile widens, and he presses another quick kiss to Jon’s nose. “Okay, then. Let’s do it.” He rocks back and forth on his heels a few times, as if considering, before adding, “And you can try to tickle me back if you’d like.”

Jon raises an eyebrow. “Try to?”

Martin’s smile turns devious at the edges, and he doesn’t clarify. Instead, he squeezes Jon’s hands once more before releasing them. “This’ll be fun! I’m going to go start the laundry—let me know if you need any help with dinner?”

“Yes, of course.”

Jon watches Martin depart from the kitchen with a frown before returning to the pot and retrieving a new spoon from the drawer.

Try to? What did he mean by that?

Jon finds his answer a few days later when he casually brushes his fingers against Martin’s sides, just above his waist, and Martin doesn’t even twitch. A light touch to the soles of his feet elicits the same response, and a kiss on his neck results in only a smile and a kiss in return.

Martin is apparently, frustratingly, not ticklish.

This, naturally, escalates the game to outlandish proportions.

Jon will admit—albeit with some reluctance—that he is, in fact, a very competitive person. Board game nights and trivia always took on much higher stakes than strictly necessary, his research always had to be more thorough and comprehensive than that of his coworkers in the research department, and he felt a thrill of satisfaction every time he figured out the answer to a problem before anyone else. He just … doesn’t like to lose.

And Jon is currently losing against Martin. Quite badly, in fact. It only takes a few days of indignity and injustice for Jon to decide that enough is enough, and he is going to find Martin’s weakness and finally get ahead.

Every light kiss is accompanied by Jon’s fingers brushing against Martin’s stomach or sides. Every time Jon curls around Martin in bed, he’s sure to let his breath tickle the back of Martin’s neck and to trail his fingers up Martin’s spine. And every time Martin stubbornly refuses to react to Jon’s touch, Jon tries a new tactic, because something has to work. Martin can’t just be … immune. That would be cosmically unfair.

Because Martin takes every opportunity to tickle Jon in return. And the number of times that Jon has shrieked and dissolved into helpless giggles when Martin finds another spot on him that is, apparently, very ticklish is getting to be truly embarrassing.

Not that Jon is … complaining, necessarily. He likes the game—likes being touched by Martin in ways that continue to surprise him, without any expectation of something more. Martin stays clear of areas that make Jon uncomfortable, takes his hands away the moment Jon tells him to stop (usually in a fit of breathless giggles), and always entertains Jon’s attempts to tickle him in return, fruitless as they may be. He would just like it more if he weren’t losing quite so badly at it.

Not that he thinks Martin minds, judging by the fond smile that seems to be permanently etched onto his face lately. That same smile turns teasing, and a little bit smug, every time Jon fails to elicit the same breathless giggles out of Martin. Jon wishes the sight didn’t inspire such affection within him because he wants to be irritated by it.

His scowl never has any heat behind it.

A few days later, Jon finds himself ignoring the documentary they’ve put on the television in favor of skimming his fingers up and down Martin’s outer thigh. When Martin doesn’t move an inch, he grows bolder, then bolder still, until he finds himself on Martin’s lap, hands pressed firmly against his chest and lips trailing kisses down his jaw. He places a kiss on a spot that he knows is particularly ticklish on him, and when Martin still remains impassive, a noise of frustration escapes his throat.

Martin makes an amused sound. “Sorry,” he says in a distinctly unapologetic tone of voice. “I can see that you’re trying very hard.”

He sounds a bit breathless, Jon thinks with a hint of pride, even as he recognizes that that’s probably less a product of the tickling than it is of the fact that Jon is currently straddling him and kissing him quite thoroughly. Which is just ridiculous, in Jon’s opinion. Everyone is ticklish on their neck. It’s just human nature.

“I am,” Jon says primly, lips brushing against the underside of Martin’s jaw. Martin doesn’t so much as flinch. Bastard. “It’s rather rude that my efforts are going unappreciated.”

“Oh, I’m appreciating them. Very much. Feel free to continue, please.”

Jon pulls back and affixes Martin with the driest look he can muster. “I see you’re not sympathetic to my cause.”

Martin’s mouth falls into that same frustratingly smug smile. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” His hands, resting on Jon’s waist, skim upward suddenly and send a violent shudder through Jon’s body.

“This,” Jon says breathlessly, “is unfair. Cruel and unusual punishment. Torture of the highest order.”

“So you’re giving up, then?” Martin says sweetly. He punctuates his words with a quick pinch just above Jon’s waist that has him squeaking.

Jon scowls and pinches Martin’s waist in return, to no avail. “Don’t be absurd.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

Martin shrugs. “All right.” Then, he lifts Jon from his lap like he’s made of papier-mâché, settles him back down on the couch next to him, and proceeds to attack his sides and stomach and arms until Jon is wriggling and tears are budding at the corners of his eyes and his stomach is sore from laughing.

It's wonderful.

(And maybe Jon’s just a little bit afraid that, if he finally finds a way to make Martin jump beneath his fingers, the game will end and Martin will cease trying to find new and wonderful ways to touch him gently, to handle him like he’s something tender, to take him apart and hold him close in the same breath.

Not afraid enough to stop trying to find Martin’s weak spot. But the thought is there all the same.)

In the end, none of Jon’s agonizing and strategizing and consideration of variables makes much of a difference. Because when he finally manages to tickle Martin, it happens quite by accident.

They’ve been in the safehouse for nearly a month now, and the tickling has become part of the daily routine. Jon thinks, therefore, that he should have come to expect it by now, but Martin never quite does the same thing day-to-day. Sometimes, his hands on Jon’s waist in the morning as Jon cooks breakfast are firm and comforting, eliciting nothing from Jon but a pleased little hum and a soft good morning. Other times, his fingers drum a light staccato rhythm against the small rolls of fat that have begun to accumulate on Jon’s hips, and Jon wriggles, making Martin laugh and insist that I’m hardly even doing anything, Jon.

Jon had never really considered touch as something that could contain so much love and affection within it. He’s never been more glad to be proven wrong.

The morning it happens is quiet and cloudy. The sunlight through the window is tinged with gray, bringing with it a cold that cuts through the downy duvet they have. Jon rolls over in bed with a groan. He presses himself firmly against Martin’s back, draping one arm across Martin’s chest and shifting so his legs are flush with Martin’s in an effort to combine their body heat and stave off the chill. His foot, socked and a good deal colder than the rest of his body, brushes against the back of Martin’s knee.

Martin twitches, his leg jerking away from Jon’s involuntarily. With sleep still clinging tightly to him, it takes Jon a moment to realize what’s happened and a few moments more to identify what, exactly, he had done to warrant the reaction.

Experimentally, he shifts and touches his foot to the back of Martin’s knee again, feather-light and fleeting. And when Martin makes a small sound in the back of his throat, froggy with sleep, and twitches away again, Jon grins. He buries his face in the back of Martin’s neck to hide it. Then—because he’s a bit giddy and just can’t help himself—he rests his foot against the back of Martin’s knee and wiggles his toes.

Martin’s leg curls up against his chest, effectively locking away his figurative Achille’s heel, and he mumbles something incoherent in his sleep that sounds equal parts groggy and irritated.

Jon’s smile turns soft, and he presses a kiss to Martin’s shoulder before wrapping his arms securely around him. The warmth radiating from Martin is enough to lull him back to sleep—but not before he tucks this new, incredibly valuable piece of information away in the back of his mind for safekeeping.

Jon has, in his memory, never been described as a particularly patient person. He always skips the boring parts of books and movies, preferring something that can actually capture his attention and hold it firm. He used to send daily emails to colleagues until they sent him the research or information or supplies he needed. He never lets soups simmer as long as the recipes tell him to, and he firmly believes that it’s all right to set the oven temperature higher than recommended in order to cut down the cooking or baking time required.

Therefore, he thinks it’s rather impressive that he manages to avoid showing his hand until a full day later, when he walks into the kitchen in the morning to see Martin standing by the counter, his back to him as he fiddles with the teabags and mugs. The weather is still brisk, but there’s a fire going in the fireplace that makes the temperature in the safehouse tolerable. As such, Martin is clad in a (rather adorable) mixture of bright purple fuzzy socks, a thick woolen jumper, and boxer shorts with little dachshunds on them.

And, well. His knees are right there.

It has a certain kind of symmetry to it—Jon wrapping his arms around Martin’s waist, earning himself a hum and a gentle good morning, and nuzzling into the space between Martin’s shoulder blades. He stays there for a moment, relaxing into the warmth and softness of the jumper, before slowly and deliberately lifting his foot and brushing it against the back of Martin’s left knee. Except, instead of dropping a wooden spoon into a pot of red sauce, Martin startles so badly that the mug slips from his hand, shattering rather spectacularly on the floor beside them.

Jon freezes, staring down at the puddle of half-steeped tea as it slowly creeps toward his feet. “… Ah.”

Martin mutters a curse under his breath and extracts himself from Jon’s now-loose embrace, bending down to begin picking up the largest of the shards. Jon stands there for a moment, feeling a strange mix of sheepishness and pride bloom in his chest, before going to retrieve the broom.

The mess is gone in a matter of minutes. Martin throws the last shard into the bin, dusts his hands off to ensure that they’re free of ceramic, then turns to face Jon with a sigh that straddles the border between exasperated and affectionate. “While I was holding tea?” he says, clearly trying to fight back a smile.

“I didn’t know you’d drop it!” Jon says defensively, gesturing widely with the broom he’s still holding.

“Well—I didn’t mean to. You just … caught me off guard.”

Jon can’t help the smile that spreads across his face at that. “Did I? How terribly rude of me.”

“Yes, yes, congratulations. You’ve found my weakness.” Martin’s smile is dripping with fondness. “I’m still winning, you know.”

“For now.” Jon adjusts his grip on the broom, the plastic bristles at the perfect height for his purposes.

“There’s not a chance that—hey!”

Martin backs up against the counter as Jon lunges forward with the broom, trying to angle it so it reaches behind Martin’s legs. It’s deceptively difficult. Martin gives Jon a comically exaggerated look of betrayal. “I expose my weaknesses to you, and this is what I get. Treachery and deceit.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

Jon adjusts his grip on the broom, but before he can make another move, Martin leans forward and presses a quick, lingering kiss to his lips. Jon makes a noise of surprise, then one of contentment. He finds his eyes fluttering shut despite himself, the tension bleeding out of his shoulders, and he thinks he’d rather like to keep kissing Martin for the rest of the morning, and perhaps the early afternoon as well.

Which is why it’s rather unfair that when Martin pulls away, Jon opens his eyes to find that Martin’s sidestepped him and Jon has lost all tactical advantage.

“That’s cheating!” Jon says indignantly.

“That’s taking advantage of all the resources at my disposal,” Martin counters. It’s infuriating, and Jon loves him so very, very much.

What commences after that is a rather short, altogether too lively game of cat and mouse that mostly involves Jon running after Martin with a broom and Martin somehow managing to stay frustratingly out of reach. Martin’s laughter is lighter and more joyful than Jon thinks he’s ever heard it before, and Jon feels a childlike happiness blossoming in his chest as he nearly trips over the corner of a rug and just manages to catch himself on the back of the couch. Therefore, he can’t bring himself to feel too disappointed when Martin somehow manages to extract the broom from his hands and corner him on the couch. His fingers find the sensitive spots on Jon’s body as Jon giggles breathlessly and swats half-heartedly at Martin’s hands.

“All right, all right,” he manages to say between laughs. “You’ve made your point. I give up.”

Martin stills his hands, letting them rest gently on Jon’s shoulders with his thumbs brushing against Jon’s collarbones. He’s hovering over Jon, knees bracketing Jon’s thighs as the arm of the couch digs into the middle of Jon’s back. It’s a position that makes Jon feel small and enclosed, but also warm and happy and safe, because … it’s Martin. Martin, who only touches Jon as much as he wants him to and stops the moment it becomes too much. Martin, who apologized profusely the first time he accidentally rolled on top of Jon at night but who, upon Jon’s insistence that it was actually quite nice, has now taken to acting like Jon’s own very warm and very lovely weighted blanket. Martin, who looks at a body that has seen so many unkind hands and unspeakable horrors and presses kisses to the scars that lie upon it and reminds Jon with every touch what it is like to feel comfortable in his own skin.

“I love you,” Jon whispers, because he feels it so acutely in this moment that he thinks he might burst.

“I love you too,” Martin murmurs, rubbing his thumbs in careful circles on Jon’s collarbones so as to soothe rather than to tickle. The care behind that touch—the difference in intent from just a few moments prior—probably shouldn’t make Jon’s chest tighten and his stomach grow hollow and fluttering, but it does.

Martin presses a kiss to Jon’s forehead, soft and lingering and gentle, before pulling back and saying, “Tea?”

Jon can’t help leaning in to give Martin a chaste kiss on the nose, then another one quickly on the lips. The small noise that Martin makes with each touch is something that Jon boxes away and treasures forever. “Yes,” he says with a quiet smile. “That would be lovely.”

[jammatown919]

Best Laid Plans

Several months ago, an anon asked me to write a piece in which the group tries to play matchmaker for Ruby and Penny. This is what that turned into. 

Ruby liked Vacuo better than she'd thought she would. Sure, it was unbearably hot most days and a fair amount of the locals seemed rather disgruntled about having more refugees around, especially Atlesian ones,  but she'd take this over Atlas any day.

She was especially relived that she and her group had been allowed to enroll as students at Shade Academy rather than having their Huntsmen licenses renewed. They hadn't been at all ready for the position when General Ironwood had offered it to them, and while there was still a lot to worry about, everyone was glad to have some of the pressure taken off of them. Unfortunately, however, the lowered stress and extra free time had given them an opportunity to concern themselves with things that absolutely did not require their attention, such as Ruby's love life.

Two weeks ago, Ruby had made the horrible mistake of confiding in Yang about her crush on Penny, which had resulted in most of the rest of their friends knowing about it too. Most of them were alright about it, but Yang and Nora were absolutely hellbent on playing matchmaker, and they weren't taking no for an answer.

Every single time one of them caught Ruby alone, they'd plead with her for permission to set up a date so everyone wouldn't have to watch her 'pining' anymore, and no matter how many times she said she didn't want to burden Penny with her feelings, they persisted. Eventually she'd started trying to avoid them altogether, which was a lot easier with Nora than it was with Yang, considering they shared a room.

On their second Friday living at Shade Academy, also the second Friday since Ruby had confided in her sister, Yang found Ruby alone in the dorm and made what felt like her millionth plea of the week.

"For the last time," Ruby snapped, flopping down on her bed. "I don't want you to set up a date! It'll just make everything awkward."

She was trying to keep her cool, but honestly, this was starting to piss her off. This was none of Yang's business, or Nora's for that matter. She didn't need their input.

"Oh, come on, Ruby!" Yang groaned, her voice laced with exasperation. "You have to know she's into you!"

"Give me one good reason to believe she actually likes me back." Ruby retorted, rolling her eyes as Yang let out a dry laugh.

"I'll give you ten reasons," she said confidently. "You two are basically attached at the hip, she gets that little pouty face every time she gets told she can't pair with you for combat training, you literally share a bed-"

"Only because there weren't enough beds when we moved in!" Ruby quickly sat up, warmth rushing to her face.

"Yeah, but when Blake and I starting sharing, I asked Penny if she wanted my old bed and she just about cried." Yang replied. "Unless you want to sit here and argue that all of that is platonic, you know she likes you back. So why won't you just talk to her about it?"

"Look," Ruby sighed. "Even if you're right, I just don't want to give her anything else to worry about. She just lost her home, she's still getting used to being the Winter Maiden, and now she has all this human stuff to deal with. She needs my support right now, and I don't want to accidentally push her away."

Yang's expression softened at that, and she slowly crossed the room to sit down beside Ruby.

"I get that," she said quietly, suddenly much more sympathetic than frustrated. "And I know I'm being kind of pushy, but I don't want you to miss out. This could be your only chance for a while to actually go on dates and have fun with her."

Ruby let out another, heavier sigh and leaned back onto her hands, tilting her face toward the ceiling.

Yang was right. They might have a respite now, but Salem could show up any day. This chance to be students again wasn't going to last forever. They were getting to be kids one last time, and that would be over the moment Salem made herself known again. Then there would be no dates or time to worry about feelings, probably just regrets if she didn't do this now.

"What do I even say to her?" she asked quietly. "I've never liked someone like this before. What if I screw something up?"

"Just be honest with her." Yang put an arm around Ruby's shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze. "Tell her how you feel, ask her if she wants to go out, and let Nora and I take care of the rest. We'll find a nice place for you to go, and I'll tell you everything I know about impressing girls."

She winked good-naturedly and released Ruby, who then took a deep breath and stood. She didn't feel even remotely prepared for this, but there was a decent chance it could be now or never.

"I'm gonna go see if I can find her." Ruby decided, steeling herself. She made her way toward the door, giving her sister a nervous grin over her shoulder as she left. "Wish me luck."

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

Ruby found Penny an hour later in Shade's library, sitting at one of the tables with a pile of books. From the looks of it, she'd been here a while, possibly making her way through a series.

"Hey," Ruby said quietly as she reached Penny's table. "What are you reading?"

Penny glanced up, looking mildly startled.

"Oh, it's just a fantasy story," she replied sheepishly, lowering the book in her hands. "It's a bit silly, but I've never had time to just sit and read before. I'm finding it quite enjoyable!"

"That's good." Ruby smiled and took a seat across from Penny, clasping her hands anxiously in her lap. "Sorry if I'm interrupting you or anything, I just wanted to ask you something."

"Of course." Penny put her book down and leaned forward attentively.

"I was just wondering if, um..." Ruby squeezed her fingers, trying to steady her voice long enough to get the question out. "If you wanted to... go out with me sometime? Like, on a date? I-If not, it's totally cool, I just... y'know..."

Penny blinked at her slowly, and Ruby shrank back as much as the chair would allow her to.

"A date?" Penny inquired.

"Yeah," Ruby replied, her face burning. Dear God please let her know what a date is, she thought frantically. "I really like you, like more than just a friend. I've been wanting to tell you for a while, but I was scared of making you uncomfortable, but then I realized that with everything going on I might not get another chance for a while, and- Penny?"

Caught up in her rant, it had taken Ruby far to long to realize that Penny wasn't listening to her. Instead, she was just staring blankly, her expression completely unreadable.

"Are you okay?" Ruby leaned across the table and waved her hand in front of Penny's face. "Are you bluescreening?"

Back when she'd had a mechanical body, Penny had occasionally 'bluescreened' when struggling to process some new piece of information. She usually snapped out of it within a few minutes, so Ruby wasn't particularly concerned, but she had to admit she was surprised that Penny was still doing it even in a human body.

"Yes." Penny said suddenly, shaking herself a bit.

"I- what?"

"Yes, I will go on a date with you." Penny clarified, her face turning slightly pink. "I like you too, quite a lot."

"Really?" Ruby's shoulders sagged with relief, and she couldn't help the grin spreading across her face.

"Of course." Penny said with a little smile. "I would have said something much sooner if I had thought you might feel the same way."

"How could I not?" Ruby asked softly. "You're so sweet and beautiful and kind. It was kind of impossible not to fall in love with you."

Penny's blush intensified, and she looked away bashfully.

"You are all of those things too." she replied, her voice quiet and shy.

Ruby chuckled softly, then straightened herself and cleared her throat before either them could get any more flustered.

"So," she went on. "I was thinking maybe we could do dinner tomorrow around six? Or, well, Yang was thinking that, but I have no idea how to plan dates so I'm just listening to what she says."

"That sounds perfect." Penny said enthusiastically.

"Great," Ruby smiled and rose from her seat. "I'll let you get back to your reading. See you tomorrow."

Ruby turned to leave, barely hearing Penny's quiet "Goodnight," as she rushed out of the library. The moment the doors slammed shut behind her, she let out a loud, shaky laugh. She'd done it. She'd actually done it. She'd managed to land herself a date, and now all she had to do was survive it.

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

Penny had to admit, she'd been surprised to hear that her best friend had a crush on her. Delighted, of course, but so very surprised. She'd been planning to keep her own feelings a secret forever, lest Ruby find them unusual or inappropriate, but that was no longer necessary. Ruby shared the same feelings, and apparently they were quite normal.

It was a relief to know that, but Penny couldn't say that all of her anxieties had been quelled. According to Ruby, the next step after confessing their feelings was going on a date together, a concept with which Penny was not particularly familiar. She had a basic idea of how it was supposed to work, but she wasn't sure of the correct way to behave or what she was supposed to say while they were out.

Penny had gone to Nora with these concerns, hoping for some friendly advice, and had been promptly and quite literally dragged into Team JNPR's dorm room for a pre-date pep talk.

"You really don't have all that much to worry about." Nora said as she worked on lacing up the back of Penny's dress. It was quite similar to one she'd worn to Beacon's dance; light green, knee-length, and very soft. She'd borrowed it from an upperclassman named Velvet, who she knew by association due to her team's friendship with Team RWBY.

"But what if I say something wrong?" Penny asked anxiously, running her fingers through her hair. She'd already brushed through it twice, but perhaps one more time couldn't hurt.

"What would you say wrong?" Nora inquired as she finished with the dress. "You two are already friends, so you don't have to deal with any of that 'getting to know each other' business. Just go and have fun. And make sure you laugh at all her jokes."

"All of them?" Penny echoed unenthusiastically. Her sense of humor was quite different from the majority of her friends, and she sometimes had trouble discerning whether something was a joke. How would she know what to laugh at?

"Unless they're offensive or something, but it's Ruby so I doubt that." Nora shrugged and grabbed a bit of Penny's hair, gently fluffing it out. "Think you're ready?"

"Maybe?" Penny replied. "Do I look presentable?"

"You're gorgeous, Pebbles." Nora turned Penny around so they were face to face, placing two firm, comforting hands on her friend's shoulders. "Everything's gonna be fine, okay? You've gone places with Ruby hundreds of times; just act how you normally would."

"Okay." Penny nodded. She could do that.

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

The restaurant Penny had been invited to was a small café hardly a stone's throw from Shade's campus. From what Penny could tell, it seemed to be primarily frequented by the school's students, as the majority of the people sitting in the outdoor area were wearing school uniforms.

Of the three that were not, one was Ruby, clad in a black top and bright red skirt that just barely reached her knees. She spotted Penny from her table near the café's front window and waved her over with a shy smile.

"Hey," she greeted softly as Penny approached. "You look really nice."

"As do you." Penny replied politely, sincerely hoping that the grin on her face didn't look too silly. She stood there awkwardly for a moment before taking a seat, leaning forward so their table's umbrella could better protect her fair skin from the sun.

For a good two minutes, they sat there in silence, Ruby seemingly avoiding eye contact and Penny quietly fidgeting while she tried to think of something to say.

"This place is pretty cool, right?" Ruby offered at last, glancing in Penny's direction.

"I think it's quite hot, actually." Penny replied. Ruby let out a soft chuckle, and she quickly realized her mistake. "Oh! You meant- yes, it's very cool."

Penny briefly averted her gaze as her face grew warm, but she was saved from any further embarrassment by the arrival of a tired-looking waitress.

"Have you two decided on anything?" she asked, placing two glasses of water down on the table. As she did so, she fixed Penny with the same vaguely suspicious look every Atlesian refugee had been receiving from the locals.

It wasn't entirely uncalled for, considering everything her nation had done to theirs, but it made her uncomfortable nonetheless.

"Um..." Penny glanced down at the menu, eager to get the waitress's eyes off of her. Impulsively, she ordered the first thing she saw. "The fried scorpion, please."

"I'll have the same." Ruby said immediately.

"Interesting choice." The waitress remarked as she took their menus. 'For a couple of outsiders' was implied.

Penny watched her walk away, mildly dreading the sight of what she would return with.

"What the hell did we just order?" Ruby mumbled, so softly that Penny couldn't be entirely certain the words were for her.

"It will likely be fine," she answered anyway. "Scorpion is a common dish here."

"Yeah, I guess." Ruby replied, once again avoiding eye contact. Penny's brow furrowed and she leaned a bit closer to her date over the table.

Ruby seemed remarkably uncomfortable, wringing her hands and glancing about as if searching for a way out of the situation. Did she not want to be here? Had Penny done something wrong?

If so, she hadn't the slightest clue what her mistake could have been, but relationships were so complicated that she wouldn't be surprised if she'd broken some unspoken rule. Perhaps she'd missed a joke she was supposed to laugh at, or-

"Penny?"

Penny was jolted out of her thoughts, only just realizing that Ruby was waving a hand in front of her face. She blinked hard, mildly startled.

"Are you okay?" Ruby asked gently.

"Yes," Penny said with a quick nod. "Yes, I'm fine."

"You've got to stop bluescreening on me." Ruby gave her a small, kind smile. "What were you trying to figure out?"

Penny hesitated briefly. She almost didn't want to say it for fear that she might be right. Yet again, if she had somehow messed up the date, she wanted to know what she'd done wrong.

"It's just..." she began eventually. "You seem as if you don't want to be here. I was wondering if maybe I did something wrong? Or if you regret asking me out?"

"Of course not!" Ruby's eyes widened in mild alarm. "What made you think that?"

"You just seem so uncomfortable." For emphasis, Penny mimicked the hand-wringing motion Ruby had been doing. "I was worried you thought this was a mistake."

"God, no," Ruby reached across the table and gently took Penny's hands in her own. "You didn't do anything wrong, Penny. Asking you out was not a mistake."

She brushed her thumbs along the backs of Penny's hands; an intimate gesture, if Penny remembered correctly.

"I think letting someone else plan this for us might have been a mistake, though." Ruby admitted. "I don't think I'm really a dinner date person."

"What do you mean?" Penny inquired.

"I mean this all feels a little... stuffy, I guess." Ruby shrugged. "I don't like sitting here in formalwear trying to make awkward conversation with a bunch of other people around. This doesn't feel like us, y'know?"

"I think I understand." Penny nodded slowly. She had to admit, this wouldn't have been her first choice of venue either. "What do you think would feel like us?"

"Do you remember that night with the fireflies?" Ruby asked. Penny nodded again, a small smile spreading across her face. "That felt like us. It was just you and me having fun, enjoying nature and stuff."

"That was a very special night," Penny agreed fondly. "But I do not believe we would be able to recreate it here. As far as I know, no species of a firefly is native to Vacuo."

"It doesn't have to be exactly the same." Ruby seemed thoughtful for a moment, quietly drumming her fingers on the table. "What if we went up on the roof of Shade's dorms? We could be alone and just enjoy each other's company."

"I like the sound of that." Penny almost stood up, but suddenly remembered that they'd already ordered. Would it be considered rude to leave?

"It's alright," Ruby seemed to read Penny's mind as she rose from her seat. "I don't think it counts as dining and dashing if we haven't gotten our food yet."

Penny supposed that made sense. She hesitated a moment longer before standing up, glad that she wouldn't have to see that waitress again. Ruby extended her arm, and Penny linked it with her own as they began walking away from the restaurant. As soon as they'd cleared the tables, Ruby visibly relaxed.

"This already feels better," she remarked.

"It does." Penny agreed. They walked together in silence for a few minutes, Penny's face growing warm as an unfamiliar sensation spread throughout her body.

Suddenly overtaken with boldness, Penny leaned over and pressed her lips to Ruby's cheek, holding them there for a moment before slowly pulling away. Ruby's eyes widened in surprise, but she didn't seem at all bothered.

"Was that... okay?"

"It was more than okay," Ruby replied, glancing over at Penny with a smile. "That was perfect."

"It seems our night has been salvaged." Penny smiled back at her, faltering briefly as Ruby rested her head on her shoulder.

"Yeah," she said, her warm breath tickling the skin of Penny's neck. "It has."

--

If you enjoyed this piece, please consider reblogging to share it with others and help the post gain a bit of traction! It would absolutely make my day and make the three months I spent trying to finish this feel worth it! 

[wingsyliveblogs]

Can I tell you that we kinda know about Belos's whole deal is something we...know about now and that have effects on how we talk about him, even if we'll try our best to avoid spoilers

Alright, I've been putting this one off for a bit because I wasn't quite sure how to respond to it, but let's not delay this any longer.

So, first off, I'm assuming you meant well sending this ask, which is why I’m giving it a proper response. But I have to be honest: this ask kind of does rub me the wrong way a little, for a couple of reasons.

The first is that this information, in itself, could be considered a spoiler. I'm aware that Belos is a major antagonist for the series, and from that I can extrapolate that while I don't know much about him at this point in the series, there will be much more revealed about him at a later time. But if I didn't have reason to believe that, this would be telling me something about the series that I don't know, and that's still a spoiler, regardless of how it's phrased!

The other thing is... doesn't this go without saying?? As far as I know, everyone who's following along with this blog has watched the entirety of the series. That means that you all have way more information about the characters and the plot than I do, and naturally this means that there are certain subjects, and certain characters, that you really can't talk about properly while I'm still on episode 11 out of 40. I've never asked people to send me messages about things I don't know in the show, and I don't plan on doing so anytime soon. That's just how liveblogs work. So... I don't feel there's really a need to clarify this at all?

I know you can't talk about this guy without spoilers. That's why I haven't asked anyone to. Whenever I bring him up in a post or during my liveblog, I'm imagining him as a vague idea of a person in a position of power who's probably malevolent to some degree, which is the extent of what I know about him as a character at this point. I'm not expecting anyone to share their thoughts on him until, at the very least, he's been properly introduced. I don't even know what he looks like!

I'm sorry if this response seems a bit heated. I'm not upset, I just want to get my points across as clearly as I can. I can only guess at why you felt it was necessary to send this message, but I think the less said about the aspects of the show I'm not yet familiar with, the better. For now, I feel that there's simply no reason to send me any info about a character who hasn't made a single appearance in the show yet. That can come later!

[silverflame2724]

What if WWX succeeded in killing WR instead?

Ohhhh this is good. This is really good.

I’m mixing a bit of CQL here, but only in terms of Wen Ruohan choking Wei Wuxian.

But hmm, I don’t think much would change, but because you haven’t specified for a good or bad ending, I’ll give you a good ending!

(I also don’t know whether you’re asking me for my personal opinion or for a fic but here you go.)

Oh right, just to clarify in case you don’t read the tags but the only reason this is going to be a happy ending is because of a wonderful thing called a butterfly effect.

———————————

Wei Wuxian knew that something had to be done. As soon as Wen Ruohan stepped onto the battlefield, hundreds of their own died in an instant.

Something had to be done. And with all the dead around him, Wei Wuxian had more than enough resources to combat him. But he had to be sneaky. Wen Ruohan had cut down many of his corpses. He had to get close somehow and distract Wen Ruohan enough. He got the chance soon enough when he found himself gripped by the neck by Wen Ruohan.

As he ran out of breath, he slightly whistled, commanding a nearby corpse to rise and stick its arm through Wen Ruohan’s chest. He saw the movement of someone in the corner of his eyes but couldn’t pay attention as his vision started to turn black.

As he fainted, he idly wondered why it didn’t hurt as he fell to the ground.

…………..

Meng Yao felt like everything had slipped out of his hands. He had everything planned out.

He would go to the Wens and be a spy for the Sunshot alliance unless it came to a point where the alliance would lose. He’d stay on the Wen’s side if that happened. Otherwise, he’d wait for an opportune moment and kill Wen Ruohan himself. With the deed of doing that, Meng Yao would finally be able to gain the necessary means to get recognized by his father.

But no. He only managed to be a spy. And even then, he did give half completed information once and Nie Mingjue was captured and tortured. Meng Yao’s odds didn’t look good even though he managed to get into the good graces of Zewu-Jun.

Regardless, he did manage to become Jin Guangshan’s son because Zewu-Jun helped him, though he wasn’t recognized as an heir considering his name was Guangyao instead of Ziyao.

His father also didn’t seem to like him a lot…… Jin Guangyao sighed.

………………

Wei Wuxian woke up a few days later and attended the victory banquet that was held.

Many people congratulated him and clapped him on the back, though he stiffened at the gesture. After all that had happened to him, physical touch was something still unwelcoming to him.

But whatever. It was still nice to get a confirmation that he did indeed kill Wen Ruohan. He did manage to barely see his corpse stick its arm through the Wen sect leader’s chest, but he wasn’t sure he hit a vital point. His vision was starting to go black then.

He grimaced, though. After this, he’ll have to go back to Lotus Pier. And help rebuild. It’s not that he was unwilling to do so. It’s just.....without his core......what he could do was limited. Physically, at least. He could try to convince Jiang Cheng to give him more paperwork type stuff, but it was unlikely.

Ah.....this is why he was hoping, just a little, to die during the last battle. But he didn’t. And now he has to find a way to dodge Jiang Cheng every time he wants Wei Wuxian to do something that would involve his core.

*sighs* Wei Wuxian really was tired of all this.

............................

In the end, it was grating on their already strained relationship, but Wei Wuxian managed to dodge Jiang Cheng when it came to things involving core-related stuff.

But Jiang Cheng was really starting to show some genuine irritation at his behavior. 

Just as he wondered what to do, a familiar face brought him out of his thoughts. “Wen Qing?!”

.........................

They ended up breaking into Qiongqi Path where the Wen civilians - civilians for crying out loud - were being beaten and tortured to death.

As much as Wei Wuxian wanted to kill the Jin inspectors where they stood, Wen Qing told him to calm down otherwise, it would be a political mishap. 

“The only reason you’re this calm is because you see Wen Ning.” Wei Wuxian pouted.

Wen Qing rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. If she hadn’t seen A’ Ning helping the others with their rather ridiculous tasks, there’s no way that she would have been as calm as she is now.

“It doesn’t matter. Wait till they don’t pay attention and sneak them out one by one! It’s not like the guards will actually notice until they’re all gone.”

“Hmm.”

.

.

.

In the end, the guards all fell asleep as they did this. But Wei Wuxian needed to think of a long term plan. They were all clothed in Wen sect garments so the first step would be to get them a change of clothes. He had sufficient funds from his duties as head disciple - though he wasn’t really performing those duties per say - as well as funds Shijie had given him.

So he got them a change of clothes. And a map. And told them to head to Dongying since it was far removed from any sects. Wen Qing gave him a hug, which surprised him and she asked for some paper, writing something down and handing him some notes.

“I always felt guilty about the transfer. So throughout the war, I came up with this. Your meridians are still intact, after all.”

“Wen Qing....” Wei Wuxian was stunned.

“It is the least I could do. After all that you have done for my family.”

Wei Wuxian did not cry.

He did not.

...................................

Time passed. 

And eventually, Wei Wuxian formed a new golden core. It was not through traditional techniques though. Of course it couldn’t be. He was in his twenties and forming a golden core would be nigh impossible.

Wen Qing’s notes gave some insights though they were not complete. Wei Wuxian had to refine the method she had started. 

And so, through the use of medicines and his own genius, a fledgling core formed after two years. How was he able to have that much time on his hands, you ask?

He may or may not have told Jiang Cheng and Shijie that in order to purify the resentful energy in him that he had to go into secluded cultivation. 

They both reluctantly agreed but not before Wei Wuxian trained a successor, someone to take his place.

And now. Two years later, he has finally purified the last bit of resentment in him, has properly sealed the Seal away, and has finally formed a golden core.

[russadler]

Work Hard, Play Harder - Prologue

Russell Adler x Female OC

The mission sounds simple enough, but the devil was definitely in the details.

A/N: This is something completely new and separate from ‘A Little Death’ and NOT a Russell Adler x Bell. After coming to terms with the issues with that pairing, it was difficult to continue that fic even though I loved it as much as I did. It was devastating to do so, but I’m hoping to create something completely new and fun. I guess this is sort of similar to ‘A Little Death’ in a way but completely different at the same time. This is just the prologue, setting the scene for the fic, but let me know what you guys think <3

June 7, 1982

Langley, Virginia

She’s not entirely sure what she expected, but it wasn’t this. 

Her day starts out simple enough. Write memos, respond to emails, read and scribble in the growing stack of files on her desk. Then her department lead tells her Jason Hudson needs to see her and from then on things get very interesting, very fast. 

The brunette makes her way to the briefing room with haste, lithe legs carrying her at the fastest pace considered appropriate in Langley’s corridors. Everyone knew Jason Hudson to be a notorious hardass, but he was a decorated one. A long list of achievements had ensured he sat at the echelon of the clandestine operations unit. 

Now he wanted her. Getting called on by Mr. Shades himself was the lifelong dream of the many that worked at Langley, but now that it’s happening the woman can’t deny the sense of apprehension at the prospect. She had worked minor roles under the direction of other handlers in a few of the smaller ops he’s overseen over the years, but felt she had done nothing then to warrant his attention whatsoever. 

There’s little time to ponder, and before long the briefing room door she’d been directed to enters her field of vision. Shoulders squared and breathing deeply through her nose, knuckles meet the worn wood in delicate but firm raps. A deep voice beckons her forth, and she enters. 

Hudson stands at the far end of the table, one hand in his pocket and the other sifting through a stack of papers currently occupying the surface in front of him. 

“Agent Fletcher.” He greets flatly, not even sparing her a glance as he focuses his gaze on the aforementioned sheets of paper.

“Sir.” She returns, thankful that she’s managed to keep the nervous tremble from her voice and replace it with something pleasant and airy instead. Taking a seat, her delicate hands flatten her pressed slacks as she moves. Her selected chair is close, but maintains a respectable enough distance from her superior.  

“Are you familiar with the name Anthony Lipovetsky, agent?” Hudson cuts to the chase, starting as soon as she’s settled. His cold stare shifts to acknowledge her presence, and a chill comes over her as she stares into those signature reflective shades.

They both knew the answer to his question. Aria Fletcher worked mainly in the drug and contraband trafficking sector of the CIA. 

Of course she knew who he was. 

Anthony Lipovetsky had steadily become a pain in the DEA’s ass recently, according to what she had been hearing. Though he wasn’t anyone particularly prolific that warranted the CIA’s attention like some others had. Out of the many individuals Hudson could have pulled her here to ask about, the Russian - American was the least expected.

“Drug trafficker making some big moves along the east coast, but he’s not the biggest fish in the pond.” Aria answers, sounding matter of fact as she stares back at the other. It’s more of a question of a statement. Why him? 

“You’re right. He isn’t, but it’s recently come to our attention that he’s been dabbling into arms smuggling.” Hudson counters, but it still isn’t the answer she’s looking for. 

“Unsurprising. He’s not the first and certainly won’t be the last.” The younger states, but there’s more to this and she knows it. She takes a gamble and makes an educated guess. “Would I be correct in guessing we’re here right now because of his choice in clientele?” 

The female agent can only hope Hudson doesn’t think she’s trying to be a smartass, but all she can do is speculate. It’s the only reasonable assumption that comes to mind seeing as the The CIA doesn’t like it very much when people sell guns to the bad guys, and they especially don’t like it if they’re the type of bad guys who like terrorism. 

“Precisely.” Hudson answers, and the agent has to fight the urge to smile. Right on the ball.

“We have solid intel that he’s been in contact with a soviet agent named Perseus.” The elder continues even seriously, voice grim as he makes the acknowledgment.

Oh. Oh. 

The name Perseus wasn’t one she was familiar with, but the words Soviet Agent had stood out. This was bigger than the domestic drug trade, this was the Soviet Union making way into their backyard. 

This is bad. Very, very bad. 

“So, what’s the plan?” The young woman queries, a touch hesitant at what role she has to play in something that now seems entirely out of her league. 

Hudson’s mouth parts, but a knock at the door interrupts. Her head snaps towards the door as Hudson grants entrance, and in walks Russell Adler. 

Langley legend, ‘America’s Monster’ The man’s in a different league even when compared to a heavyweight like Hudson. He’s pretty much a myth. She’s heard the stories about him, both personal and professional. His portfolio of work is way above her pay grade, and his presence immediately makes the entire thing immensely more interesting. 

She rode an elevator with him once, almost a year back. The encounter was barely a minute long, but she never forgot how devastatingly attractive the man was, with looks that easily could have landed him in Hollywood. Not to mention the way the man carried himself, assertive and with an undeniable dominance. 

Adler doesn’t introduce himself, and doesn’t even spare her a glance nor a word as he takes the seat adjacent to Hudson. His shaded eyes are focused straight ahead as he pulls a cigarette from the pack he seemingly carried in, perching the stick between his lips and igniting it with a zippo lighter that had appeared from God knows where. 

Aria hadn’t realized she had been staring until Hudson tosses something at her from his place at the table, the sound jolting her back to attention. A manila folder glides quietly across the stained wood to land neatly in front of her, only two words on the front.

Operation Ocelot. 

“Let’s get started.” Hudson announces. She opens the file, and things begin to unravel. 

——————————————————————

As it turns out, Operation Ocelot consists of a covert insertion of two agents into Anthony Lipovetsky’s Miami home. That part sounds simple enough, but the devil is definitely in the details.

For the time being, it was prudent Lipovetsky’s connection to Perseus remained intact. They needed a paper trail to follow, and one they could follow without arousing Lipovetsky’s suspicion. There was no real point in spying on someone if they knew they were being spied on.

“The target is well guarded, the man has a price on his head and he’s well aware. Armed security teams around the clock, cameras around the house, the whole package.” Hudson states, slides on the projector screen behind him changing to show a floorplan of the house. 

“Is this where I come in?” Aria questions, it’s easy to assume that’s the only reason why she’s here. 

It seems they’ve selected her to be the honeypot, an unfortunate consequence of being at the very least a mildly attractive woman in the CIA. Sexuality had proven to be man’s greatest weakness time and time again, and it become just a part of the job. She knew if it was something she didn’t want to do, she could easily say no. But then again, she had killed many people in her time as an agent, and one had quickly learned how to detach emotions from entire aspects of life as necessary. 

It’s a blink and you’ll miss it moment, but she swears she sees Hudson and Adler share a look before the former answers her. “It’s where you and Adler come in.” 

Adler in the meanwhile, hasn’t spoken throughout the entire thing. He hadn’t even looked at her yet, his sightline having been maintained firmly on the projector screen ahead as Hudson led the briefing. The end of his cigarette had burned red in the darkness as he took steady pulls from it throughout, the only sign of life in an otherwise detached and glacial man. 

And now, Russell Adler is looking at her. Dark aviators like twin blackholes that threaten to swallow her whole. 

At this point the young agent is visibly confused, as demonstrated by Hudson moving to clarify the statement. “Through our surveillance program we’ve been able to observe the targets' routines and behaviours, and it has been noted that Lipovetsky has a particular…habit.” 

“He wants a threesome?” Aria blurts, now fiddling with the gold chain on her neck. 

This whole thing just got really fucking weird. 

Hudson’s mouth parts, likely looking for a way to word the whole thing professionally, but to her utter surprise Adler is the one who decides to cut to the chase. 

“He likes taking home married couples.” He states bluntly, nonchalant as he focuses on crushing the charred stub of his cigarette in the ashtray in front of him. 

It’s the first time she’s ever heard Adler speak, his voice low and warm. Though it’s not the sort of warmth one would typically associate with kindness, but rather it brings to mind the heat of a fire and danger. There’s a roughness there too, likely from his smoking, but oh how well does it suit him.

“Oh. Well, that’s…interesting.” Aria huffs with a laugh, feeling honestly a bit relieved. There were definitely weirder things in the world that people were into that she feared. Instead, her body tingles with interest. Married couple. 

“Why me then? This isn’t necessarily my normal line of work.” The woman questions. They could have chosen anyone, but they had chosen her. Hundreds of beautiful women worked here everyday but they somehow settled on her? 

“You both make an…attractive pair. You fit the bill in terms of the target’s preferences, as well the vacation demographic in the city.” Hudson says, arms crossed at his chest. “Apart from that, you’ve so far had an impressive field career, your performance is consistent and high quality.” 

The female agent can’t help the pride that burns in her chest at the praise from such a distinguished and highly respected man like Jason Hudson. Everything suddenly felt like a dream. 

“There’s a lot to lose here, we need more than a pretty face. You’ve got what we need.” Hudson emphasizes, the importance of this mission heavily ingrained to the back of her mind. 

“So…I’m going to play Adler’s pretty little trophy wife and then we’re going to collectively seduce our way into his house?” Aria wonders aloud, Adler and Hudson not moving to interrupt and permitting her speculation to continue. “And then what? Are we expected to fuck the information out of him?” 

Hudson sighs, pinching at his brow in exasperation. Adler jumps in once more, saving Hudson from further embarrassment. “We’re gonna slip him a sedative before things get to that. Special cocktail that’ll make him think he just drank a little too much.”

“Oh, thank god.” The youngest utters under her breath, relieved. Things were definitely easier that way.

“Once he’s out, we’ll mess with the camera system, do recon, collect intel, then get the fuck out.” Adler finishes, intense stare levelled right at her once more. She couldn’t help but squirm, he was almost too much to handle just by existing.

And God, she could listen to that voice all day. She was going to listen to it all day in a short matter of time.

She really loved her job sometimes.

“Sounds simple enough.” Aria resigns, casual as she accepted that her life was just really going to be this outlandish for the next little while. 

“You and Adler will set out the day before and go through the motions and leave a paper trail of your own. The target might try and track you both down just to check his bases.” Hudson adds, arms crossed as he switches his gaze back and forth between her and Adler. 

“If we leave evidence that we’re just a normal couple doing normal things, it’ll reassure the target there wasn’t any outside involvement and we weren’t up to no good.” Aria finishes, one arm perched on the armrest of her chair and the other fiddling with her pen as she returns Hudson’s gaze. 

“Precisely.” Hudson agrees, voice carrying the smallest hint of sympathy. 

It’s almost like he feels bad for her. 

Hudson dismisses them soon after, handing them directives on the particulars of their individual roles and aliases. Adler storms ahead of her to the exit, moving out without so much as acknowledging her once again.

He was an asshole, but a ridiculously good looking one. She would learn to play his game soon enough, and oh, she would press his buttons.

Hudson is quick to catch her disgruntled reaction at Adler’s behaviour. “Adler’s not the most personable, but he’s a damn good agent. He’ll have your back.” The elder reassures, perhaps seeking to soothe the burn of the other’s abrasive nature. 

The woman sighs, turning to flash Hudson a tight lipped smile. “I’ll figure him out, I’m not worried.”

She finishes packing away her items and gets ready to leave, eager to get started on the work ahead. Hudson calls her again as she reaches the door, making her pause in her tracks.

“Remember agent, don’t let me down.” 

Nodding with silent determination, she leaves.

[chosenimagines]

To the rescue (Dr Spencer Reid)

Universe: (H) Criminal Minds Summary: Reader goes as every morning into the same coffee shop. The good morning turns into horror (Reader is named Alia) Used Prompts: - Warnings: sexual assault  Language: English Request: Yes/No

Request: Hey! So, I had this idea of Spencer meeting reader(can be fem, male,or GN; I don’t really mind) in a coffee shop. They’re both neighbours, go to the same coffee shop and order similar coffee everyday. Neither of them ever say anything, just wave and smile. It’s obvious that they both have a crush on each other. One day, either a persistent random or ex won’t leave reader alone, and Spencer comes to the rescue and pretends to be their boyfriend. Also, wanna add they both know each other’s names from when the barista calls out their names.Also, can Derek and Penelope feature! I just love them so much. Like imagine as Spencer is introducing himself as reader’s boyfriend and they walk in and hear. Honestly, you can tweak and change the request as much as you want. I just think coffee shop Spencer is a cute trope (by izraahh1)

Requests [Open]

A/N: Thank you very much for your request @izraahh1 I enjoyed writting it! Enjoy <3

 My requests are open on Wattpad and Tumblr

🖊️    🖊️    🖊️  

️____________________________________________

Accompanied by a delicate bell, I entered the well-filled shop. Fortunately, no one stood at the checkout, but waited for her order off the beaten track. As joyful as I was, I stepped up to the counter. "Hi."

Friendly as always! Nevertheless, I put a radiant smile on my lips. "A wonderful good morning, Jazzy! I take a cappuccino with caramel sauce please and a chocolate croissant." "Name?" Was she being serious? Okay, the answer was obvious! But it was difficult to take seriously as I was here once or twice a day and often placed the same order and every morning Jazzy stands behind the counter. But that was fine with me! "Alia! A-L-I-A.", I spelled patiently. Not even Jazzy could spoil my good mood! I had had a great morning. I had bought a new book with a free bookmark; the course had been postponed and in a seconde I would get my life-saving coffee and something to eat. It couldn't get any better on a Monday morning! I was just happy, which I also showed uninhibitedly. Annoyed, Jazzy nodded, tapping rougher than necessary on the display of the cash register. Her fingernails caused a repetitive clacking, which I sometimes knew from myself when I used my phone. But when I typed it was not half as continuous as with the young cashier, because her modeled fingernails were longer than my natural nails, which is why the recurring tone made sense. "Next!", moaned Jazzy and I trotted to the side to wait for my name to be called. It was always a pleasure to see Jazzy! Sometimes I wondered why she was working at the checkout. I pushed the thought of her aside. I really shouldn't continue thinking about her negative nature! My foot tapped to the rhythm of the song that was playing in the coffee shop. But I didn't pay much attention to it, because I buried my nose again in my book. Much to my chagrin, I had barely read half a page when I was disturbed. Someone strangely pushed towards me. I took a step to the side over and over again, but the person just moved in. "Well! How are you?" I knew the voice! I jerked my head and Robert's dull blue eyes stared at me. There was a mischievous sparkle in them, which I didn't like at all. It scared me! "Leave me alone!", I hissed. I prayed fervently that my voice wouldn’t shake and that he wouldn’t hear my fear. I didn't want to show any weakness towards him! "Why so scratchy? Is that how you greet your boyfriend?" "Ex-boyfriend.", I clarified. "And this has been the case for three months." I must have dropped my book, because it was no longer in my hand when I crossed my arms in front of my chest. "Nonsense, we just took a little break," said Robert, stepping even closer. "No! I broke up with you. There was no small break, Robert and now please leave me alone!", I demanded. Even I heard how much my voice trembled. It didn't sound determined but anxious! That didn't help me in the slightest. My goose was cooked! "I'm really interested in whether I'm still going to turn you on." he said- quite loudly, considering that sex was less widely used as a topic in public. His fingers enclosed the waistband of my pants. "Leave me alone!", I said weakly. My panic paralyzed me. "The lady told you to stop!" Robert was already stumbling backwards due to external influence. I was more than grateful for the distance! My cute neighbor Spencer, whom I met here every morning, stood next to me protectively.  I had never been this happy to see him in my life! I didn't want to imagine what would have happened otherwise... "What are you supposed to be?", Robert blared at him. My fingers dug into the sleeve of Spencer's cardigan. I didn't notice it until he released them from his arm. Then he crossed the fingers of my right hand with his right hand and put said arm around my shoulders. "I am her boyfriend! If I may introduce myself, I am SSA Dr Reid." The words sounded friendly, but Spencer exuded strength, confidence and authority. Robert pulled up his shoulders. "SSA?", he repeated shyly. Spencer nodded. "I'm an FBI agent.", he added. "Sorry, sir! I didn't want to bother your girlfriend. I'm already gone! Have a nice day, sir!", my ex babbled to himself and run as fast as possible. Relieved, I exhaled. Immediately my muscles loosened and I felt comfortable in my own skin again. Spencer loosened our fingers. Then he stood in front of me, gently caressing my upper arms as he looked at me from top to bottom. "Are you doing well, Alia? Did he do something to you physically?", Spencer asked. But I shook my head. "Fortunately not. Thanks to you! I don't know what he would have done if you hadn't helped me. How am I supposed to thank you for that?" Suddenly, his cheeks took on a slight shade of red. "That goes without saying." he said. "It's not," I countered. That's when a idea came to my head! "It's not much for your heroic deed, but I invite you to your coffee. That's the least I can do!" My neighbor quickly gave in. "If you insist!" I grinned at him. "You said it!" But Spencer took a few steps away and knelt before coming back to me. He held something to me. My book! I had completely forgotten that. "It suffered underneath the feet of this-" Spencer broke off, took a deep breath before continuing to speak. "Your book unfortunately suffered a bit, but of course I wanted to help you first and then save the book." Smiling, I accepted it. "Two heroic deeds in one day! Spencer, a bit more and I will die in despair because I don't know how to thank you.", I teased him and gently nudged him with my shoulder. His cheeks turned darker. "The coffee is enough for me. Thank you!", he coughed. Once again, I noticed how cute Spencer was! I already liked him. "Spencer!" "Alia!" Now I had to laugh. "What a coincidence that we are being called out at the same time!", I said. Now my rescuer was also smiling. "Yes! A nice coincidence.", he commented. After I had paid, we walked together to exit. But Spencer suddenly stopped. "Morgan, Garcia, what are you doing here?" A remarkably dressed woman and a casual-looking man came up to us. Both wore a broad grin on their lips. I had clearly missed out on something! "We're going to university today, pretty boy! We should pick you up. Did you forget that?", said the man. Spencer shook his head. "We just wanted to get a coffee beforehand. Who can guess that our pretty doctor will save his beautiful girlfriend?", the woman added. Then she hold out her hand to me. "Penelope Garcia! Colleague and friend of Reid." "She's not my girlfriend.", Spencer croaked.  But I would like to be... "Then you should change that quickly! The way you two look at each other, I assumed that I have been swearing you two have been together for a long time." How do we look at each other? Puzzled Spencer looked at me. I swallowed hard and remembered the man's initial statement - I believed his name was Morgan. "Which college do you have to go to?", I wanted to know. He told me the name with the grin not leaving his face for a second. "I have to go there too! Would there be a problem taking me there as well?" Penelope raked in with me. "Of course not! And now tell me since when you know our beloved Reid!”, she demanded as pulling me out of the cafe. I could hear Morgan's laughter behind me. What unique people!

[buckyownsmylife]

Burn - Henry Cavill smut

The one where Henry’s blindfolded.

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: p in v, oral (f and m), curse words, one mention of daddy! kink, unprotected sex (I don’t recommend it), restraints and blindfolds. Also, the reader is trying to be a dom in this one, but she’s pretty soft.

A/N: day 11 of kinktober and the prompts were blindfold + “Hold it”. Once again, the smut is coming without revision and I’m still taking up friendship applications and beta applications which may or may not coincide. Hope you like this one, because I’m feeling dead inside.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Rationally, I knew it was stupid to feel this way. I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to a date with Henry, but the truth was, nothing could have prepared me to what it would feel like to see him kissing someone else, having to sell that he was in love with another woman because that was a part of what he did to make a living.

But I had the best boyfriend, and he seemed to know exactly what I needed to feel better about the entire situation.

“How are you feeling, baby?” I asked as I slowly grinded against his belly muscles, appreciating the view of my very strong boyfriend stripped naked, blindfolded and handcuffed to the bed. 

“I-I’m okay,” he answered in the form of a whisper, almost like he was afraid to break the sexual atmosphere of the room, but I pouted. That wasn’t the answer I wanted to hear. It made me feel like I wasn’t doing my job right.

“Only okay?” I had to clarify, running one of my fingers over his bottom lip, before pulling it down and biting it until I heard him gasp. “You’re breaking my heart, honey. Would you prefer if it was Keyra doing this with you?”

The reaction was immediate. His body tensed up, and by the abrupt movement of his arms, I could see he had tried to move them to hold me, but the restraints made it impossible for him to do so.

“No, darling. Absolutely not. You’re the only one I want like this, the only one I trust enough to share this experience with.” I melted. Who wouldn’t, after such a declaration from the man you love?

“I know, baby,” I calmed him, leaning down to press a quick kiss on his lips, watching in amusement as he tried to follow me in the hopes of deepening it. “I’m only messing with you.” I resumed the movements over his abs, needing to feel a little bit more friction on my clit. His answering groan warned me of how truly pained he was feeling at the whole situation.

“Not being able to see you grinding against my chest is the most terrible punishment you could administer.” I had to giggle at his dramatics. Only my bear of a boyfriend would feel so terrible at having his girlfriend controlling his pleasure for once.

“Well, maybe this way you can understand how I feel everytime you film a love scene with another person.” He sucked in a breath, immediately shutting up, and I almost felt bad about my honest remark, but I decided he was mature enough to be able to suck it up. He was the one to suggest our current activity, after all.

“You know what? I don’t see why your punishment should be mine, too. I wanna cum, and you’re gonna make me cum.” I climbed over his body until my legs were on each side of his face, and I tried to ignore the cheshire cat smile Henry was trying very hard to suppress at the prospect of eating me out. “You remember what you have to do when you need to come up for air? Ok.”

After making sure he was reminded of the safe gesture we had anticipated for this kind of activity (a bite on my inner thigh), I lowered myself to meet his waiting tongue, that stood perfectly pointed up at me.

“Fuck,” I immediately breathed out, as always pleasantly surprised at just how incredible Henry was at eating pussy. He treated it like some sort of exotic, delicious dish, and he loved how wet he could make me get just so there was more for him to taste. “You’re too good at this,” I jested, wrapping my fingers around his curls, taking advantage of the fact that he had allowed his hair to get longer for this last role. I loved it like this, I loved being able to use it to try to control his movements.

But tonight, I didn’t have to try. I was the one in control. 

I rode Henry’s face slowly, still too self-aware in this position, but the second his lips wrapped around my clit, I was a goner. Gripping the headboard in front of me, I let myself sit more comfortably in his face, trusting in his use of the safety measure if it was necessary, and I relaxed, enjoying the filthy symphony that my moans and his slurping sounds created in our bedroom. 

As my high approached, he must have sensed it, because his licking became more feral, growls escaping his lips and reverberating against me as I started to fully grind my pussy against his face, crying out every time I bumped on his nose.

And then, I flooded his lips with my essence, temporarily blacking out before scrambling to get out of his face, so he could properly breathe again. I felt like my heart was fluttering at the sight of his perfect lips arranged in a full-on pout.

“You didn’t let me enjoy my meal properly!”

“You’re not supposed to enjoy this at all, remember?” He still looked like I had deeply hurt him, so I leaned down to properly kiss him for the first time that night. Henry moaned against my lips when I deepened our kiss, allowing his tongue to dance with mine as I appreciated my own taste. When we separated again, I was slightly out of breath and his lips were a shade of pink that denounced just how roughly we’d been kissing.

“Didn’t take you for having an asphyxiation kink,” I whispered against his lips, making him smile. “Now, I think it’s about time I take care of you, huh? Let me help you.” Henry didn’t say anything to that, knowing a trap when he heard one. In fact, I could see that he was holding his breath, as I made my way down his body, until I was staring at his perfect cock. The second I wrapped my hand around it, a deep, guttural groan escaped from Henry’s chest.

“Well, someone’s been feeling deprived.” I smiled at my boyfriends chuckle, knowing that was the very idea of the exercise we were currently partaking in, only now it was time for the real torture. Slowly, I licked a strip from the base of his cock until his leaking head, allowing myself to shallowly suck the precum there before immediately releasing his member.  

“You do taste wonderfully,” I teased, licking my own lips to chase the remnants of his taste. My only response was another groan, this one more tortured than the last. “And we’re only getting started, baby.”

I leaned down to wrap my lips around his dick once more, this time going further down after spending a few minutes sucking on the head of his member. Each new inch I uncovered had me retreating until only the head was between my lips, until I was bobbing my head and sucking the life out of him.

Henry’s P.O.V.

Going from practically no stimulation to the best blowjob of my life was making me feral with the intensity of the reactions she provoked on my body. My heartbeat had accelerated to a point not even running could achieve, and I swear that if I was standing, my knees would have given out on me.

Within minutes, I could feel my sack weighing heavier, signaling a fast approaching release I knew she wouldn’t grant me. Still, I allowed myself to entertain the idea of cumming on her perfect mouth, filling her up with my seed and hearing her satisfied little moan at my taste on her tongue. 

“Hold it.” Two words, and yet the effect was instantaneous, if only because at the sight of me fighting against my restraints as my orgasm approached, she immediately retreated until only her fist remained on my erection, massaging it just enough to keep it alive.

The slow, shallow movements were worse than nothing at all, somehow. I couldn’t keep the disappointed groan that made her laugh from showing just how devastated I truly was, but her answering laugh came with the feeling of her warm cunt rubbing against the blunt head of my cock, so I felt like a reward was on the horizon for me.

“Do you miss this?” I knew what she was referring to, and I also knew the answer without even needing to think about it. There were few things I loved in life more than being inside of her, and in that moment, I couldn’t remember any of them.

“Madly.” She chuckled at my answer, and I could perfectly imagine her shaking her head at me, a cute little smile on her face as she averted her gaze, still incapable of accepting just how much I truly loved and desired her.

“How is it that you always know just what to say?” It was my turn to chuckle, but it turned into a hiss as she calmly positioned my cock over her hole and leisurely sat down on it, like it was no big deal at all.

I knew better, however. It was in the way her nails bit on my navel as the muscles in her thighs struggled to accept the tempo of the movement she was performing. I knew she was relishing in the burn of my member stretching her, like it always did anytime I penetrated her, no matter how thoroughly I fucked her nightly. She always struggled to take me in, and I can’t say it wasn’t a huge ego booster.

“Tell me what you want,” she ordered, and I licked my lips at the prospect of finally getting my way. 

“I want to fill that perfect little pussy until it’s dripping out of you, even with my cock still buried in there.” I didn’t have to see to know that she shivered at my words. I could feel it through the connection between our bodies, and I took devious delight in it.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Well, I couldn’t say that he didn’t earn it. Just his words were enough to get me hornier than I’d ever been before I met Henry, and my hips moved on their own accord, until I was riding him with an ardor I hadn’t known I was capable of feeling. I didn’t even know I had the muscle strength to express it.

Nonetheless, we’re capable of a lot when we’re thrown in the fits of passion, I’d come to learn. And for Henry, I was pretty much down to do anything. So I just accepted the burst of energy and held on his chest for the ride, taking the opportunity to oggle my boyfriend freely even though I could see his beautiful eyes staring back at me. 

He still looked perfect, and absolutely ruined, his mouth open in a silent O as he panted and tried to thrust up against me as I fucked myself on his cock, but his desperation didn’t allow him to match our tempos. 

I still knew just how to make him cum with me, though.

Planting my knees on the mattress more firmly, I leaned over him to change the angle he was hitting inside of me, making sure the head of his cock was pounding against my sweet spot each time he was snuggled deep inside of me. And then, I threw myself back at his member furiously, determined to reach my own high and bring him with me. 

“Come on, honey, didn’t you say you wanted to fill me up? Here’s your chance. Fill me up, daddy. I wanna have your cum dripping out of me, making a mess on our bed. Please, cum inside of me. Please, please, please.” Each word that came out of my lips was accompanied by a jolt of my hips, and soon enough, Henry’s cock was twitching inside of me just when I, too, reached that euphoric high. 

I’d barely caught my breath and he was already struggling against the restraints, wordlessly begging me to release him, and I had to roll my eyes at his antics. “There you go, was that really so hard?” I asked after I’d freed him from the handcuffs and he immediately took off the blindfold, his hands coming up to squeeze a breast before rubbing all over my body, like he was trying to make up for lost time. 

“Darling, I think you know better than anyone just how hard I was.” I had to laugh, thankful to have his hands on me again after, in reality, depriving myself of his touch, but he really wasn’t wrong in what he was saying.

“Oh, yeah, I can attest to that. Specially since you’re still pretty hard inside of me.” Before I could understand what was happening, he had rolled us over until he was the one hovering over me, his cock still nested deep inside my pussy.

“And I know just the way to solve that problem.”

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

What’s your opinion for Leo’s reaction to finding out the mc was immortal as well- not necessarily a vampire, maybe they’re some other type of supernatural. I’m really curious because Leo seems like he’s mainly in love with the mc bec they are human.

Hi lovely!!! Always wonderful to see you, hope you’re well! 💛💛💛💛💛

Tbh I think my opinion remains the same about something like this? I'm going to link to an ask I wrote up a while ago, only because it's v pertinent to the subject matter and good background for what I’m going to expand on here.

That being said, I'm happy to kind of tl;dr/expand on what I talked about there. Basically I had the feeling that Leonardo choosing MC as a lover was more circumstantial--regarding the state of his life in the moment, regarding his general feelings about vampires and vampire society, and regarding his unresolved trauma as a young kid.

I guess my answer to that question--and forgive me if it seems like a cop out--is that it really depends, I feel? I think his attraction has a lot more to do with the kind of person somebody is, their sensibility, more than it has to do with mortal vs immortal. If it was an immortal MC that showed ridiculous fortitude and self-control, measured patience and maturity, I really don’t see him not noticing that? I think he would be wary at first (assuming it’s all a front) but with time would likely feel a great deal of love if they were interested in a life together. If they were able to see and understand what he needs and answered those needs, I guess I just really doubt his ability to say no. It’s all he’s really looking for, and the fact that he hasn’t found it after so long really speaks to his frightened evasiveness and the rare nature of that kind of unshakeable strength.

I also think a lot of his hinging away from purebloods (true immortals, in other words) is that he 100% does not want his familia having any involvement in his meaningful relationships. Which might be why he shows more acceptance towards turned vampires, or potentially different supernatural beings.

But I also don’t like giving a vague answer without some kind of explanation as to how I got, to that conclusion, so a boatload of analysis follows below the content warning.

Spoilers for Leonardo’s route and a few mentions of JPN ver content:

I think he has less of an obsession with the idea of mortality, and more like a constant association of goodness and freedom and maturity with humanity. And while it's understandable, there are signs that--when he has the proper time and space to heal--his views seem to soften from those extremes. I mean his decision to live with Comte is pretty much his first step in that direction; it was him acknowledging for the first time that vampires aren't inherently loathsome or incapable of normal living. (On a revealing note, I think it says a lot that he agrees with MC that she is living in a “wolves’ den” but also feels the need to clarify the men are basically the domesticated equivalent. They don’t pose the same threat other vampires typically do to humans because of their lifestyle and sire.) Additionally, his tsun-like behavior towards Comte also seems to solidify this concept for me: Leonardo’s trying to come to terms with something he's sworn to reject since he was young, but also can't entirely deny that Comte is as chill and mature as purebloods come lmao

[There was also an event in the JPN ver–which seems to be approaching the ENG version rapidly, though only the first part is here right now–in which Leonardo fully offers to turn her. MC is essentially on her death bed, and Leonardo doesn’t want to lose her after so little time together; it’s MC that rejects the future as a vampire out of sheer principle. Even more noteworthy is that, when a reincarnation of MC is reunited with Leonardo in modern times, he is revealed to be exceptionally shaken by that loss. There are suggestions he can’t take losing her again, which could mean succumbing to the desire to bite her.]

Two things I feel are necessary to hit home:

The first being that, at least within the storyline so far, the most mature and human-like vampires we’ve seen are Leonardo and Comte. They seek to emulate the maturity they see reflected in the human beings they’ve known all their lives. Given how vampire society and their hierarchies work, I get the feeling humans are nothing more than amusing tools to them--a way to survive and creatures to exercise control over. There’s an objectification and delusion that comes with what I’ve seen, and I think it’s important in this discussion? If the vast majority of vampires behave this way (because I’m ngl, Leonardo and Comte don’t seem very keen on remaining in touch with other vampires all that much) then it only makes sense they prefer the company of humans who can at least share this sensibility of “been there, done that--stop hurting people bc you’re bored/repressed, grow up.”

One event story where this was exceedingly evident was actually Leonardo’s proposal story. If y’all remember, an old pal/acquaintance of Leonardo’s finds out he’s gunning for a human woman and basically goes “lmao not on my watch.” His name was Adam iirc, and he felt he had every liberty to try and pressure Leonardo into turning MC. Failing that, he insisted they should break up and not be together anymore. Now, on the one hand, it’s fair to say that he was looking out for Leonardo in a way–he didn’t want him to end up miserable and alone when she was gone. But at the same time I feel that Adam’s behavior is deeply revealing of vampire society as well lmao. He doesn’t really try to understand the situation, just immediately assumes it’s the only appropriate outcome. It does insinuate a lowkey cultural disdain for humanity: they are imperfect, they do not last or cannot have real value without preservation. If Adam was really Leonardo’s friend, wouldn’t he realize that Leonardo considers vampirism nothing more than a burden that he would wish on no one, much less his future wife? Additionally, wouldn’t he also keep in mind that Leonardo considers human beings beautiful just as they are? Since he fails these basic requirements to understand Leonardo, my impression is that he is influenced by the larger vampire culture to some extent. Furthermore, it underscores just how thoroughly Leonardo has been trained to keep his cards close to his chest for fear of ridicule/violent reprisal: no vampires know his true feelings on the matter because he would be vehemently rejected outright.

[One can also offer that maybe Adam wasn’t being malicious, maybe vampires find human women they fall in love with all the time and turn them (or any other permutation of companionship that occurs), so he doesn’t understand why Leonardo wouldn’t. But even then, to try to force them to break up if she doesn’t turn? A bit overkill imo but also revealing--Leonardo’s will is being ignored for the sake of upholding a kind of ill-founded superiority complex lmao]

While Leonardo does have a somewhat overbearing need to control the pacing of his relationship and who sacrifices what, I don’t think it’s wrong to be cautious--to want to think things through. I think it’s fair to be afraid that the person you’re with can’t handle what you’ve seen/known. But that also leads me to a core issue I have with MC: she doesn’t inspire much confidence that she can handle the life he’s lived, and that’s a problem of both incapacity and incompatibility. I have to wonder how he reacts when he’s with somebody at the same maturity level, or at the very least somebody with whom he can see her strength with time. When MC’s life was dying out he was desperate enough to accept biting her because he didn’t want to lose her–human or not. It’s MC that rejects this solution, which leads me to further believe that he just doesn’t care about the divide when it comes down to it; it has more to do with his difficulty with being vulnerable and fully trusting someone to care about him. (Assuming they also have the fortitude to stay hopeful and relatively strong over the course of a very long life.)

In line with that, the second thing I think it’s important to acknowledge is how deeply hurt Leonardo is as a result of his family treating him like a fool/black sheep. He outright says and heavily insinuates that his family would write her off as worthless, that they’d never accept her--that's his first thought:

Leonardo: “My familia would call you frail. I think you’re strong and beautiful. You do more with your time than we try to do with ours.”

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MC: “And those letters were from your familia?”

Leonardo: “Yeah. I don’t talk to them or see them anymore. We don’t agree...on a lot of things.”

[Brief intermission here. But lmao. Who does that sound like? If any of you guessed Isaac, that’s exactly what I’m alluding to. Isaac says in his own route smth along the lines of “Why bother trying to get through to people when no amount of talking does any good or gets you any closer to being understood?” Which also explains the way they get along to uncanny degrees: they find comfort in making things/researching because it means being able to avoid the distress that comes with being blatantly misunderstood by others. Their pain simply comes in different dimensions; for Leo it’s about loss and hiding who he is out of fear of rejection, for Isaac it’s about betrayal and people turning on him--ultimately abandonment for both. But I digress, back to the main argument.]

Leonardo: “Once they discovered my location, they began hounding me with letters again. They don’t want me to be with just anyone...They want more purebloods. I’m no more than one half of an equation for them.”

There is a clear implication that his desire to choose somebody that truly makes him happy means jack shit to them. They keep talking over him and trying to wear him down to force him into what they want. It’s no wonder--imo--that he has such a hard time just saying what he wants in his life, to feel like he has the freedom to wish and pursue anything freely. It’s no wonder he just expects MC to spit on everything that’s important to him. It appears as though only other human beings in general and Comte have ever come close to understanding him.

At some point MC realizes that his insistence on being compagni provvisori was originally just another act of sacrifice, and that he was fine with giving up his time and a little privacy if it meant she would be safe. The thing she doesn’t seem to realize in the course of this--and he struggles to say it until later on--is that it stopped being blind generosity. He really did start to fall in love with her, and that’s the whole reason things became even more messy; because he didn’t anticipate not being able to let go on top of the vulnerability. And it’s a big part of why he’s hesitating to speak. He feels he has no right to those feelings, and that he’s imposing on her--not that he’ll be welcome.

And when she did finally admit those feelings were welcome, it was compounded by the parroted views of his family and larger vampire society as a whole. Saying that she herself wasn’t enough, that she had to become a vampire to make him happy. Imo that sounds very potentially retraumatizing given his experiences (people trying to force him into marriages with other vampires who didn’t remotely understand or care about him because it was “the right way of things”). It’s no wonder he freaks out and does something incredibly stupid and insensitive–which is pretty insanely ooc for him.

Leonardo: “...It shocked them. Quieted them down a bit. Hard to get peace when your familia is immortal. Grazie, cara mia.”

Leonardo: “You’re strong, and you’re kind. So probably you won’t cry while I’m here to see it. But when I’m not looking, you’ll cry. If I had done that to you (bitten her, in other words), you’d still be crying when I wasn’t watching... Maybe it’s selfish of me, after what I did, but I just wanted to make you happy. You always look pretty, cara mia, but your smile takes my breath away...It’s not your destiny to love someone who will only make you cry.”

This man literally cannot handle anyone deeply sad or in despair. He’s always going to try to cheer people up and care about them, but general tragedy/emotional discord affects him very powerfully--and it’s likely a reflection of what I’ve mentioned before. He can’t bear to see people feeling helpless or miserable because he’s just been there too many times to be able to cope. He wants to help and heal (even if he’s suffering from prolonged compassion fatigue), but he knows that his powers are limited--even if he is a pureblood.

And the thing is? While it’s misguided to believe she would cry alone when it comes to the context of healthy romantic love (bc the idea would be that you lean on each other when something upsetting happens) he has zero reference point. He was not born as a result of authentic love (his parents never married, he was the result of a procreative arrangement), his family talks over every wish and belief he has and they still claim it’s done out of love/honest concern for him. One can only imagine the serpentine and obnoxious lengths to which his family has deceived or tried to force him into reconnecting with them. Every person that ever did know him/care about him in a real way is gone. Love, for him, has only been a series of losses that left his heart hollowed out; I don’t really blame him for expecting further disappointment and isolation and exhaustion. 

He’s also not wrong in the sense that he partially saw MC do what he outlined, and it’s a big part about what he loves about her. When she was feeling alone and lost–powerless–all she did was shrug and move forward. That doesn’t make it hurt any less, but focusing on what you can do instead of what you can’t do is healthier. And they both have the tendency to hide when they’re in pain or feeling lost, all because they don’t want to trouble anyone. Remember that when he says this, it’s a reflection of himself too: because even if he was heartbroken beyond measure, all he would do is hide it every second; he would never expect anyone to see right through him or care.

I mean I tend think of that one post I saw that talked about how people often see themselves as a social burden when most of their life has just been a series of neglect and loss. They don’t really have a concept of “you’re not heavy because I want to stay with you. It’s my choice to care about you.” How do you feel worthwhile an existence when four hundred years later your family still won’t treat you with basic dignity. The men in the mansion also all look to him for guidance and soothing because of the kind of person he is–he’s either silent in the periphery or helping. He never betrays so much as an inkling of insecurity or distress. 

I mean the whole reason Leonardo comes to the mansion is because he has absolutely no issue helping Comte in a pivotal time of need without seeking much of anything in return. Remember that Comte explains how Leonardo came to the mansion in response to Comte’s distress about the future. This makes sense considering Comte was rapidly trying to stop Vlad by beating him to the punch, and had only enough time to plan the basics. He had no certainty things would work out, much less that his boys would thrive. But Comte, unlike the boys, has become acutely aware of how much Leonardo is hiding his fatigue and despair in the course of being helped. As such, he wants to return the favor--and tries to be a good friend to him as much as he can (handles his insane familia, keeps things light and silly time between them, takes him seriously as a person, doesn’t pry beyond what’s fair.)

[I also think of that psychology concept of “the good enough mother.” It’s not always about being perfect every second of your life. It’s about paying attention and acting where it really counts. I feel like people who grow up under an enormous burden of neglect or parental/mentor abuse have a hard time coming to terms with the idea. This notion that just trying is enough for a lot of people, that showing them they’re not alone is enough to make  difficult memories bearable. Because it’s the oppressive silence and apathy that tends to kills people, imo--not people who mean well. But Leonardo doesn’t really understand any kind of reciprocal or non-self-emptying model because the concept is beyond him. He has no experience with it beyond Comte and a select few humans he’s befriended.]

Let’s continue on this point of MC crying where he can’t see her, shall we? The reason this scares him so much is not because he doesn’t care, or doesn’t want to make the effort. It’s precisely that he cares to the point of madness. It’s that he is legitimately convinced nothing he has to say, nothing that he can do, no part of him is enough to ease what she will have to trade away to stay with him. The core issue is not one of disregard or objectification, I find it to be more about his belief that he just isn’t enough. He doesn’t trust that anyone can love him to the point where just the sight of him or time with him can heal. And while there is a foolishness to this belief, it’s understandable when you consider where he’s coming from. You can call it selfishness, but it just feels involuntary--he has a lot of fear when it comes to love.

I mean Comte even says it himself? His words here always strike me: “I want you to understand, it’s because he cherishes you just as you are--more than he cares about his future or his well-being.”

Comte is openly identifying the way that Leonardo has a tendency to give more than is healthy. That Leonardo isn’t hesitating because his feelings are lacking, he’s doing it because he knows it’s going to hurt like a bitch trying to love her and never ask beyond what feels reasonable. (Spoilers: no request is reasonable. That’s the problem here. He’s convinced he deserves nothing.) Therefore turning her into a vampire to stay with him is--consequently, to Leonardo--out of the question. This is the literal hingepoint at which Comte and Leonardo divide; Comte simply tells MC he’ll take full responsibility for asking so much of her. He intends to make her happy with every single resource and skill he has at his disposal. Even if he doubts his ability or fears losing her to vampire rhetoric madness, he’d rather try than live with the regret and immediate loss. Leonardo is more resistant because of his dour outlook, that her fear of immortality is never going to be something that either of them can overcome. And/or he’s likely afraid she’s only going to regret being together after so long, and might succumb to the ridiculous sort of power/greed complexes vampires seem so attracted to by nature.

I think Leonardo is still coming to terms with the idea that he isn't alone in the world in a lot of ways, and I think he's also coming to terms with the idea that immortality does not equate to evil. Sure, human beings on average are probably more open to flexible modes of thinking and living compared to vampires--their maturity is in some ways guaranteed due to the instances they're forced to adapt to survive. However, just one look at the ruling class and oligarchies of all kinds (even just stubborn human beings) reveals how they are not immune to the same sort of megalomania, arrogance, and thoughtless violence purebloods/vampires are capable of.

So I guess I hesitate when it comes to the thought that he only loves her because she's human. If anything, I think he loves her for the fact that she's very rooted in reality--not quite so bound by the extremes that trouble him. It's one of the many reasons I believe Leonardo needs a lot of maturity and patience; the ability to differentiate between his panicked/overwhelmed/hurt reactions versus his calm is a skill in and of itself considering his capacity for concealment. To say nothing of getting him to slow down when this happens, too.

I suppose I think about it in a way that’s similar to how Napoleon’s main story narrative is framed. While Leonardo’s route doesn’t focus on the grandeur of being a former emperor, there is a clear insinuation here that he also craves normalcy? Just a little life, with a person he loves dearly, where he can rest and be himself for once. I think because he gives off such an appearance of steadiness, people fail to see that he is barely holding on--not to mention the kind of experiences he’s been deprived of (the exact security and understanding he so expertly emulates).

Closer to your question, it’s worth mentioning that Leonardo’s life goal for a while was the creation of an immortal human being--in that he fully recognized human beings could not offer what he needed as they were.

He loves humans because of their adaptability, their frequent desire to keep seeking out hope and making the best of the broken pieces they have. But then again, it has more to do with the nature of how frequently that sensibility occurs in humans vs vampires (and immortality in general): mortality does demand some level of necessity to change and grow. Which is one of the largest trauma points for him; the vampires around him just refused to grow up, always demanding at him like children and obsessed with their power complexes.

Thing is I also don't know enough about vampire society to know how correct this perceived ratio is. However, given Comte's similar avoidance of other vampires and general inability to live with them (he and Vlad were literal childhood best friends and Comte can't stand him anymore lmao) I think Leonardo may have more validity here than people give him credit for. Which begs the question--why did he quit trying to make a human immortal? What was it that stopped him? Was it the horror of what needed to be done to achieve it? Or would a potential companion start to fall more in love with the idea of immortality than they do with life itself/him? I think it’s a worthwhile question to ask, given the disdain he seems to aim at Shakespeare in particular--once human, but now emulates all of the violence and insatiability marked by vampirism.

This is where the transition from human to vampire/immortal contains another hingepoint: is Leonardo so incapable of finding a middle ground because he feels like any choice he makes will be a wrong one? Marry a human, deprive them of a normal love where they can grow old together. Marry a human and turn them, what if they are reborn with immortal wounds/psychological harm? What if time proves they get bored of him or hateful, what if they begin to act like the predatory purebloods he hates so much? Marry a pureblood/immortal, and be hounded by his family for heirs--risk being with somebody who will never love him or their children, and only inspire more misery in the world.

Does it make sense how this can really start to become an anxious downspiral for someone like him? How the personal insecurity and life history comes together to just compound stress endlessly?

That's the thing that's important here, I think. Leonardo just needs somebody who is open-minded, firm, and not easily deceived. If one takes a look at Leonardo's main story route, the whole reason everything goes to shit so disastrously is because MC stops listening at a critical point. Granted Leonardo could have been more forthcoming for sure, but when she started assuming Shakespeare was right instead of seeing how Leonardo was feeling/reacting, she responded in ways Leonardo wasn't prepared for. He never wanted to shake her faith or insinuate whatever she is is not good enough for him, and tbh I think Leonardo downspiraled because it was just the same thing all over again. What he is--a vampire and immortal--keeps ruining everything he wants with his life. 

[buckysforever]

telling bucky you’re pregnant

PLEASE READ BEFORE YOU ENGAGE: i am a minor, i think it goes without saying that minors can read my work if they want to, but i do want to clarify that if you are an adult you can interact with my work (if you feel comfortable), if you are an 18+ blog you can interact with my work (if you feel comfortable, and i will not interact with yours). i only read and write fluff and angst, and small amounts of mature topics, the pinned post on my page goes more into detail. i write with black women in mind but most of my fics will have no physical description of y/n. trigger warnings are tagged! if you would like to learn more about my blog (which i highly encourage) please refer to the post on my blog titled “PLEASE READ”. thank you and happy reading! 

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trigger warnings: fluff, angst (?), pregnancy, cursing, abortion, anxiety, pet names, throwing up

word count: 1,297

a/n: there are multiple times where i mention a tiny life or a baby and i would like to make it clear that the reader is 2 weeks pregnant and is not carrying a baby. she is carrying a fetus, this is a pro choice blog and i will not tolerate any pro life propaganda being spread, i chose to use those words because i thought they fit well, but like the rest of this story they are fiction. on a lighter note, is overexaggeration not a word?? i really thought it was a word. i was going to write “what bucky would be like while you’re pregnant” next but i’m open to feedback and future ideas, so if you would like to please send in a request!  i would love to hear what you guys want to see, thank you and happy reading!

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so many emotions. i’m sure the pregnancy is partially to blame but if i’m being honest, i have no idea what bucky’s going to think. we’ve talked about kids and marriage and it’s something we both want in the future, not right now. our one year anniversary was just last month, i don’t want to ruin what we have, but i know i have to tell him. it wouldn’t be fair to keep this from him, if he doesn’t want it then i’ll abort it. being a mom is something i’ve always wanted, and i know bucky would make a great dad, and i think a part of him knows it too. i’m not going to jeopardize his progress over an accident, even if a part of me wants to keep it. the bump, hearing the heartbeat, painting the nursery, buying the small clothes, watching bucky holding our child, i want that, i really really want that. but if he doesn’t, i’m okay with that. i love bucky, and i will wait until a time where he is ready and as eager as i am to have a baby. 

time skip: 2 days later 

i got a blood test just to make sure, i couldn’t help myself from crying when i saw that i was actually pregnant. two weeks along with bucky barnes’ baby. the nurse told me that i would need to figure out what i was going to do with it before the symptoms started to set in. i didn’t mention that i was already feeling pretty under the whether and i guess thats due to the serum. i wasn’t really listening to her, so fixated on the tiny life growing inside of me. bucky would be home soon and i need to tell him, even though i feel like shit and i've already detected the miserable feeling of nausea creeping though my body, he needs to know. how exactly i’m going to tell him? no idea. i know i’m going to sit him down, i don’t know if i’ll be able to say it if i’m looking at him so maybe i’ll have my back to his chest. i could make him some tea first, that would make him calm before i completely shift his reality. my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening and bucky’s soft voice calling out for me, asking me what room i’m in. 

“y/n?”, how long has he been standing there? he looks worried, have i told him yet? i can’t seem to piece myself together, i thought this would be easier. i’ve told this man everything about me, he knows every secret i thought no one would ever want to hear. he knows every stupid thing i thought wasn’t worth mentioning, he knows me.

“honey you don’t look so good”, he muttered out while placing his right hand on my forehead. i noticed the thin layer of sweat that stuck itself to my skin when i felt calloused fingers make contact. 

“no fever. you feeling ok?”, i could feel the tears coming, my vision becoming blurry. despite my hazy surroundings i could make out his face, it was filled with concern. and yet i couldn’t make a sound, the fear of potential rejection was the only thing on my mind. my eyes overflowed, and he sat down alongside me on the couch.

“y/n. what’s wrong? can you talk to me sweetheart?”, the beginning of the plan i thought i had was set on fire and thrown out the window the second i heard the door open. i gathered all of my remaining strength and wiped my eyes with shaky hands. 

“i’m pregnant”, the words came out broken and not at all clear. i watched his reaction, eyes going wide, face getting a little paler. it seemed like every emotion known to mankind was flashing before his eyes.

when he finally did speak, he said something i wasn’t at all expecting, “i’m gonna be a dad?” his eyes now filled with tears, his shaking hands grasping mine. 

“yes, if you want to keep it, yes.”, part of me couldn’t believe that he was even considering this. 

“i want to keep it, oh my god of course i want to keep it. do you?”, all i could do was nod before i was pulled into what felt like the tightest hug of my life.

he pulled back pretty quickly, noticing how much strength he put into it, “are you okay? i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to squeeze you to death.” before i could open my mouth to answer, the nausea from earlier came back, much much stronger. running to the bathroom with a very confused bucky not far behind, i lowered myself to my knees and felt the joy of motherhood start, this time in the form of morning sickness. 

when i was done, bucky removed his hands that were stroking my back and pulled me into his chest. “you alright?” the words were muffled due to the kisses he was placing into the crown of my head. after i hummed out a yes, we continued to sit there, enjoying each other’s company. he got up first, helping me up with him, leading me to the sink, he picked me up and placed me on the counter. as he started to get my toothbrush ready i couldn’t help but notice the huge grin on his face, he shook his head slightly and i knew exactly what he was thinking. 

“i can’t believe i get to live this life with you” 

he’s said it a million times before, no words are necessary to get the his point across. 

“how far along are you”

“about two weeks, i a blood test to be certain, i just got the results this morning.”

i could see a worried look coming back onto his face, “is everything okay, with the serum and everything? is that gonna mess anything up for you or the baby?” 

“the nurse said something about it, i’m gonna be honest i wasn’t really listening.” 

“y/n”, he groaned out. i took that as my cue to start brushing my teeth so i wouldn’t have to respond to the lecture that was about to start. 

he shook his head for a second before his mouth opened, “it’s okay honey, you were probably so nervous, we can go tomorrow. how are you feeling right now?”

i reached my hand up to feel his forehead, returning the favor, he quickly pushed it down. “i’m not kidding y/n, how are you.”

after emptying my mouth and rinsing off my toothbrush i replied, “i’m not gonna lie i’m more worried about you, if i’m not getting scolded for my “lack of regard for my own personal safety” as you would say.”

the look i got from bucky convinced me to fess up, “i’m kind of tired, and obviously still a bit nauseous, but mainly just tired.” 

he seemed pretty content with that and he went to pick me up again, “i can walk you know?”

“you’re gonna have to get used to this y/n, what if you collapsed from exhaustion?” 

i rolled my eyes at his overexaggeration of my condition and allowed him to lift me off the counter, i watched him make his way towards our bed. after i was gracefully placed onto my side of the mattress he said, “i’m gonna get you some water, you’re going to drink at lest half of it, then we’re gonna schedule an appointment for tomorrow, okay?” 

after simultaneously yawning and nodding he left, and a smile crept up onto my face, thinking of watching bucky holding our tiny child in his big arms. and with that thought, i fell asleep.