#of course the count lost my sympathy already

[lady-of-the-lotus]

wait you don't like novel xy? why not? 🤔

I should probably say I don't like the parts of him I've actually read or seen excerpts of.

I simply don't jibe with him.Much as I love me my villains, I don't wholeheartedly embrace all shapes and forms and draw the line at certain crimes and threats for personal reasons. Also, I actually usually get really into villains who are more along the lines of Loki, Magneto (#Magnetowasright), Erik (Phantom), Count Fosco (The Woman in White--one of my all-time favorite characters)--and from what I've seen of novel!XY, he's even further from my usual type than the cql version.

In short, there was some "that's too much for me" and there was no emotional clicking to compensate. I might like him better if I read the I-assume-better-translated version of him in the official novels. I very much rely on writing style and realistic dialogue when it comes to books, which is why I find it hard to connect to anyone in poor translations, no matter how good the original work. I recently gave up on The Man in the Iron Mask halfway through to wait for a different translation to come into the library as the one I was reading (from a major classics publisher!) was so poor as to be distracting. (Still bitter about how that one got published.)

I'm sure people have great reasons for liking novel!XY and am glad he made enough of an impression on readers for him to get the screen time he did in cql!

[shangchiswife]

logan howlett- a royal tea party

summary: you and logan spend the day babysitting your niece

logan x fem!reader with a smidge of wade x reader

warnings: cursing

word count: 2372

....

It was a bright, sunny morning when your phone buzzed with an urgent call from your cousin.

Her voice, usually calm and collected, was frantic this time.

"The babysitter just canceled on me!" she blurted out before you could even say hello. "I don’t know what to do! I need someone to watch Emma—can you please help?"

You could picture your cousin pacing in a mild panic, but instead of feeling worried, you couldn’t help but smile. The thought of spending time with your lively, giggly four-year-old niece was an easy yes.

“Of course, I’ll watch her,” you replied warmly, already imagining Emma’s excited face when she saw you.

She was adorable, with her chestnut hair always tied into playful pigtails, each one neatly fastened with matching pink bows. And she had the cutest little smile with a little gap in between her front teeth.

“Oh my god thank you so much, you’re such a lifesaver,” your cousin gushed as you laughed.

As you hung up the phone, you glanced over at the living room where Deadpool was lounging on the couch, munching on a bowl of Lucky Charms. 

He looked up, raising an eyebrow as he crunched loudly.

"Babysitting duty today, huh?" he quipped, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. 

“Good luck with that, kid. Tiny humans are way scarier than anything I’ve faced.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin.

Before you could respond, you felt a familiar presence behind you. Logan’s deep voice broke the moment. “Need some help with the kid?”

You turned to see him standing there, his rugged face softening just slightly as he met your gaze.

"I think I’ve got it," you replied, leaning in for a quick kiss. "But it might be fun to see you wrangle a four-year-old."

Logan smirked, his blue eyes gleaming with amusement. "I’ve faced worse."

"Yeah, like sharing a house with Deadpool," you teased.

"Hey, I heard that!" Deadpool shouted from the other room, waving his spoon in mock outrage. “You two would be lost without my sparkling personality.”

Before you could fire back with a retort, the doorbell rang, pulling your attention away.

Your heart skipped with excitement as you practically bounced to the door, eager to see your niece.

When you opened the door, there stood Emma dressed head to toe in a poofy purple princess gown. She had a sparkly tiara perched on her head and a glittery pink wand clutched in one hand and a small toy box in the other. Her eyes lit up when she saw you, and she twirled in place, showing off her dress with a proud little grin.

“Auntie, look! I’m a princess today!” she announced, her voice brimming with joy.

You couldn’t help but grin back. 

“You look absolutely perfect, Your Royal Highness,” you said, giving her a playful bow.

She giggled, clearly loving the attention, before running inside, her dress puffing out around her as she moved. Deadpool peeked his head out from the living room, eyes widening as he spotted her.

“Well who is this little ray of sunshine,” Wade said, abandoning his bowl of cereal and skipping over to your niece who gave him a little smile.

“Prepare yourself, young lady, for the greatest adventure of your day!” he declared with a flourish.

Just as he said that his phone started buzzing.

Deadpool glanced at it, his face dropping into an exaggerated frown of resignation.

“Looks like the universe demands my immediate attention,” he said dramatically, picking up his phone and reading the screen. “Vanessa’s having a crisis, and apparently, only I can save the day.”

Emma’s face fell a little at the thought of losing her new friend. “But… I wanted to play!”

Deadpool knelt to her level, giving her a sympathetic look. 

“I know, princess. But fear not! I shall return. In the meantime, you’ll have to make do with this mere mortal and the very grumpy Wolverine.”

He shot Logan a playful glance. Logan just raised an eyebrow but remained silent, his arms crossed as he watched the exchange.

“Alright, little one,” Deadpool said, giving Emma a gentle pat on the head. “You’re in good hands. Don’t let this place get too boring while I’m gone!”

With that, he dashed out of the house, his departure as dramatic as his entrance.

As the door closed behind him, Logan sighed and moved to sit on the couch, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he looked at you. “Well, looks like it’s just the three of us now.”

Emma tugged on your sleeve, looking up at you with big eyes.

“Auntie, I’m hungry! Can we have lunch?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” you replied, glancing at Logan. “How about you keep Wolverine entertained while I whip up something special?”

Emma’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she grabbed Logan’s hand and led him toward the toy box she brought.

Logan followed with a slightly apprehensive expression, looking back at you for help while you held back a laugh.

“Come on, Wolverine! We’re going to have a tea party!” Emma announced, her voice filled with anticipation.

Logan, sitting down on the floor next to her, looked unsure. He picked up a tiny plastic tea cup and held it awkwardly.

Emma, blissfully oblivious to his nervousness, was already setting up her tea party with a mix of stuffed animals, dolls, and plastic dishes.

As you cooked Emma’s favorite mac and cheese, the delicious smell of cheese and pasta filled the kitchen. 

From the living room, you could hear Emma’s excited chatter and the clink of plastic tea cups, along with Logan’s good-natured but slightly unsure replies.

Peeking into the living room, you saw Emma sitting cross-legged on a blanket, surrounded by her stuffed animals. 

Logan was next to her, still looking a bit unsure. 

He was trying his best to mimic Emma’s actions with a mix of seriousness and curiosity. 

The girl poured imaginary tea into Logan’s cup, and he took a careful, exaggerated sip, playing along with a grin.

“Thank you for the tea, Mr. Wolverine,” Emma said, giving a little curtsy and smiling brightly.

Logan managed a shy but genuine smile. “You’re welcome, Princess Emma. This is definitely the best tea party I’ve ever attended.”

Emma beamed and handed Logan a plate of plastic cookies with a flourish. Logan took the plate with a polite nod and pretended to take a bite. 

Emma giggled at his effort, clearly delighted by his participation.

Suddenly, Emma’s eyes lit up with an idea. She carefully removed her sparkly tiara and placed it on Logan’s head. “Now you’re a royal knight!” she declared with pride.

Logan looked a bit surprised but played along, adjusting the tiara with a small, amused smile.

Just then, as Logan reached for another imaginary cookie, the plastic teacup wobbled and fell to the floor with a soft clink. 

Emma’s eyes widened, and she burst into uncontrollable laughter. She rolled on the floor, her giggles filling the room and making her cheeks flush pink.

Logan glanced down at the fallen cup, then back at Emma, who was laughing so hard she could barely breathe. 

After a moment, he couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head with a laugh. 

“Looks like I’ve made quite the mess at this tea party.”

Emma, still laughing, managed to say, “You made it even funnier, Mr. Wolverine!”

As you walked into the room, carrying a tray of mac and cheese, you saw Logan wearing the tiara and Emma rolling on the floor with laughter. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Wow, I could get used to this sight,” you said with a grin, bending down to press a kiss to your partner’s cheek.

Logan shook his head good-naturedly. 

“Guess I’m officially part of the royal court now.”

Emma clapped her hands, delighted by your reaction. “And you look perfect!”

As you finished setting the table, the mouthwatering smell of mac and cheese filled the air. When you brought the steaming dish to the table, Emma’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“Yummy! Mac and cheese!” she exclaimed, eagerly scrambling off the blanket and rushing to her seat.

As you all sat down to eat, Emma chattered excitedly about her tea party.

Despite his initial nerves, Logan quickly warmed up, asking your niece about her imaginary kingdom and getting into the play with genuine enthusiasm.

“You know,” you said to Logan as you scooped some mac and cheese onto Emma’s plate, “seeing you play along like this with Emma, I can’t help but think about how amazing you’d be with our future kids.”

Logan looked up, his expression softening. “You think so?”

“Oh I know so,” you replied, giving his hand an affectionate squeeze.

Logan responded by bringing your hand to his lips, causing Emma to let out an exaggerated squeal. 

“Eww, no kissing!” she said, scrunching up her nose.

Logan chuckled, pulling back with a mock pout. 

“Alright, no kissing,” he said, giving Emma a playful wink. “But you have to admit, I’m pretty good at this tea party thing.”

Emma giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re the best knight ever!”

The doorbell rang suddenly, causing everyone to turn their heads. 

You went to answer it, and moments later, Deadpool burst back into the room. He froze mid-step when he saw Logan sitting there with Emma’s sparkly tiara perched on his head.

“Holy chimichangas, what’s this?” Deadpool exclaimed, his eyes widening in exaggerated disbelief. “Logan, is that a tiara on your head? Did you lose a bet or something?”

Logan looked up, clearly irritated, but trying to keep his cool. “You’re lucky Emma’s here otherwise I’d beat the shit out of you,” he said through gritted teeth as you put your hands on the little girl’s ears for the last part.

Deadpool laughed, dramatically holding his hands up in surrender. 

“Okay, okay! I’ll stop teasing. But I have to admit, you’re really rocking that tiara,” he said, blowing a kiss at him and making your boyfriend roll his eyes.

Emma giggled at the playful banter, clearly delighted by the attention. “Mr. Wolverine looks so funny!”

Logan shook his head with a smirk. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t expect me to wear this every day.”

As you all finished lunch and chatted, the room was filled with warmth and laughter. 

When it was time for Emma to head home, she gave everyone a big hug.

But as her mom arrived to pick her up, Emma’s smile began to waver. She looked up at Logan with big, pleading eyes. “Can’t I stay a little longer? I want to play more with Mr. Wolverine.”

Logan’s expression softened, and he crouched down to her level. 

“I’m sorry, princess, but it’s time for you to go home. But we’ll have another tea party soon, okay?”

Emma’s lower lip trembled, and she burst into tears. “But I don’t want to go! I want to stay with Mr. Wolverine!”

You quickly knelt beside her, gently rubbing her back. “I know, sweetie. I promise we’ll plan another playdate very soon. You had such a great time today, didn’t you?”

Emma sniffled, nodding reluctantly. “Okay...”

“Hey, don’t worry, kiddo. Next time, I’ll join in the fun too, and I promise not to embarrass Mr. Wolverine too much. Or at least, not more than he embarrasses himself.”

Emma managed a small smile through her tears. “Really? You won’t make fun of Mr. Wolverine?”

“Only if he’s wearing something less fabulous than this tiara!” Deadpool joked, pointing to Logan’s head. “I mean, look at that sparkle. How could I possibly top that?”

Emma managed a small smile through her tears, and with one last hug for Logan and you, she left with her mom.

As the door closed behind them, you looked at Logan, who was still wearing the tiara with a fond smile. 

“You know,” you said, stepping closer and adjusting the tiara slightly, “You really nailed the royal knight look today.”

Logan chuckled, tipping the tiara playfully. “Yeah, well, I guess it’s not every day I get to be the guest of honor at a tea party.”

Wade grinned from ear to ear sauntering over your way.

“I gotta say, peanut, you’ve set the bar pretty high. I mean, the tiara, the tea party etiquette—it’s like you were born for this.”

Logan’s eye twitched slightly. “Wade, if you don’t shut up, I’m gonna show you exactly what I was born for.”

Deadpool threw his hands up in surrender, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. 

“Alright, alright! No need for violence, big guy. I’m just saying, the whole tea-party-knight-in-shining-armor thing is really your hidden talent. You should lean into it more often.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, watching Logan trying to hold onto his patience. “You’re just jealous, Wade,” you said, giving Logan a supportive nudge. “Logan actually knows how to keep a princess happy.”

Wade scoffed in mock indignation. “Please, I’d be the best tea party guest ever. I’d bring the snacks, the party games, and maybe a little bit of chaos. You know, just to keep things interesting.”

Logan groaned, finally yanking the tiara off his head and tossing it onto the couch. “I’ve had enough of your kind of ‘interesting,’ Wade. You’re on thin ice.”

Deadpool grinned wider, clearly enjoying every second of Logan’s irritation. 

“You know you love me,” He raised his hands and shaped them into a heart, batting his eyelashes in exaggerated sweetness.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Logan muttered, though a small, reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

You shook your head, trying to suppress your laughter as Wade wiggled his eyebrows at Logan. “Face it, Logan,” you teased, “you’re stuck with us.”

Logan’s gaze softened as he looked at you. 

“Yeah, I guess I am,” he said, his voice tinged with fondness. 

Then, with a sideways glance at Wade, he added, “Though I could do with a little less chatter from some people.”

Wade threw his hands up in a dramatic shrug. 

“Hey, I’m just here to add spice to your otherwise dull existence. Admit it, you’d miss me if I were gone.”

Logan’s smirk grew as he leaned back into the couch, pulling you closer. 

“Don’t push your luck, Wade.”

[gangplanksorenji]

Kinknuary Day 12: Anal Sex

Pairing: ITZY Chaeryeong x Male Reader

Word Count: 5,264

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

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There’s a mere escapade of such delightful endeavors, and it’s not that difficult to be into one. Opting to find a way to find such delectability and genuine enjoyment, you started a truce between yourself to find real gratification and not get lost and fight with on what to really enjoy. Maybe, perhaps, you don’t need to swear yourself like that when someone piques your interest, your own self getting excited as she gets along and talks with you even more.

“Single?”

“Maybe I’ll say it’s a no.”

Chaeryeong snaps herself into reality, as she was shocked to know that you’re in a relationship when your mere demeanor doesn’t emit one, in her words. “Why the ‘maybe’? Something wrong that happened?” Chaeryeong furrowed her eyebrows as your response piques her interest on engaging and killing her curiosity, not before sipping on her sweet, alcoholic concoction to kick things off.

“I don’t really want to talk about it but—” You let out a deep sigh as you faintly winced, feeling the pain in your heart as it weighs down pretty heavily and Chaeryeong notices it right away but chooses to listen first. “—she cheated on me and it broke my heart when I knew that…”

Your tone was in faint melancholy and defeat as Chaeryeong shows little sympathy but nonetheless, her façade remains calm and stern, and then sipping another from her sweet cocktail. “She’s a total douche, then, hm?”

“Yah—don’t talk to her like that—”

“But she cheated on you, don’t you see it?” Chaeryeong gives you a defined glance as she wants to snap you to reality even though you can be as delusional as any unhinged person known to man, or perhaps, love making you act this way. She puts down her half-finished cocktail as she inches closer towards you, willing to let you know how this will end up bittersweet. “As much as you love her—this is just unhealthy and you’re not benefiting off of this.”

Maybe Chaeryeong was right about this; and it doesn’t stop there, it’s making you feel something that could absolutely ease the pain and by making it utterly equal. A man will be a man—with a beautiful and a hot girl talking right in front of you, feeling butterflies would be normal as it’s inevitable to feel such connections, maybe more than what words can imply. You brushed off those thoughts in a while yet it bothers you like a young child wanting to play with you, and you’re fighting it to the fullest. 

“I don’t know Chaeryeong—this seems crazy…”

And you’re finally opening your eyes to the reality of the world—brushing off the pain and delusion that made you vulnerable at this moment and it’s absolutely breaking you apart. 

The truth hurts—it does and there’s absolutely nothing you can’t do about it but you need to ease the pain with something and even if it means to do something devilish, then so be it.

“Hah—you know what? It’s going to be fine, honestly.” Chaeryeong smirks at you as she entices you with her charismatic aura, luring you in as she thinks of something that’ll help you with what you’re going through. “Why don’t you make it mutual against her?”

Your face is puzzled, confused on what Chaeryeong has enlightened you into but soon, you’ll know you’re going to get a grip on this but you need to know and make sure what she is thinking. “What do you mean by that?”

Chaeryeong knows how oblivious you will take this as neither party never knew this can end like this, mostly her knowing what to do and of course, she’s not going to let you down with your curiosity killing you slowly. “Aren’t you that oblivious, hm? Of course, you need to get some spicy revenge against her since she started this, no?”

Well, speak of the devil and the devil’s already knocking at your door. As for how wicked her suggestion can be, you can’t help but give in to your devilish side, opting for revenge since your girl has done the same as it totally crumbled your world, piece by piece. You love her, and that is what’s stopping you to submerge onto this possibly cruel act but your other side is reflecting, thinking that this is just going to be fair for both parties as it will hurt her how it hit like a truck on your side.

Maybe it’s time for a fair judgment, settling onto a plan that can get the best for both worlds—

“Come on, I know you’d want this—it would be just fair…” Chaeryeong pulls up a trick in her sleeve that would absolutely make her insatiable and almost nigh-impossible to resist: seduction. Her tone laces honey yet drips with lust; and her moves emanate grace yet dances like a vixen. Now falling under her spell slowly, you can’t help yourself but get riled up with her advancements as she doubles her effort onto luring you more.

Her fingers and her face, inching closer towards yours is the breaking point, let alone her fingers directing you up as her subtle movements on your chin seduces you further. It wasn’t long until the heat around the room ensues as she pulls you in for a kiss and it’s an intimate one. You can just find yourself being more indulged with the luscious taste of her cherry lips as the both of you savor each moment and finally, it wasn’t long until she pulled out and you were met with her beautiful, sincere smile.

“See? It wasn’t that hard…”

“You think this won’t go bad, Chaeryeong?”

Chaeryeong scoffs as her hubristic attitude paints a smug face right after, confident that this won’t hurt your fate in any way. “Of course it won’t—in fact, she’s the one getting the karma, so she deserves it.” Fully indulging onto her succulent taste, you find yourself pulling her for another kiss as she eagerly reciprocates and the heat being emanated by the both of you is skyrocketing and gladly, no one’s even bothering to check up on you but such a predicament will be stopped as you don’t want to get embarrassed further. 

“You’re cute, you know that?” Chaeryeong shyly compliments you as your cheeks flushed red after that, and so your ears show such a rosy hue. 

“Thanks—and also, you’re a great kisser, Chaeryeong—”

“Just call me Chaery, and also, thanks…” The both of you went shy after a wholesome moment but Chaeryeong, quickly changing her demeanor as she finally gets your whole attention, proposes such a risky idea that the both of you will benefit for and will make this night an absolute remarkable one. “How about we can take this somewhere privately?”

You fix yourself and squinted your eyes a little, in a thought if you will agree to her offer as thai deal is probably an act worth remembering, and as a tool for revenge, for her to learn her own lesson to not mess around and fuck with you. So, with such a deep yet quick conclusion, your hands went down on her small, slender waist as you initiated, “Alright, Chaery—we should take this somewhere where we could only see it.”

“Would love to be a part of that.”

And there your evil roots grow on you as the both of you course your way onto the nearest bathroom as it didn’t take some time to find one and here goes the exordium of your devilish desires.

---

“God, you’re such a hot girl, Chaery.” Your hands wonder (mostly at her waist and her buttocks) all over her impeccable features and her outfit that perfectly compliments her body, from top to bottom. Your eyes lit in amazement and awe, incredibly blown away with her body as she snaps you back onto her attention, uttering such words that further seduces you into giving in to your own sexual desires.

“Baby—tell me how you like my body. Tell me your favorite one, please…” Chaeryeong lets out a needy whimper as pleads to know what could be your favorite and you flash a smirk because of her wants. Every inch of her body should keep an eye on appreciated as she’s sculpted perfectly and everything is just flawless, and with that being said, it’s hard to really choose on a favorite but there’s one thing that really catches your eye and it’s pretty obvious until you admit it: it’s her thick, spankable butt.

You mutter it and Chaeryeong flashes a smile because of your pure sincerity—not to mention that your eyes glisten with lust and hunger whenever you say those words directed to her. With her hands all over your shoulders and her face painting such a smug expression, you know her confidence is all over the roof with all these comfortable actions of hers as she replies with your sincere thoughts about her body. “I love that you thought of my butt being your favorite baby. With that, don’t you want to touch or rather, feel it.”

Both choices are appealing and hot as fuck: the former already being done and just making both parties anticipate and keep the tempo running yet the latter is what really catches your eye—the urge to really rail her onto the bathroom sink and rail her from behind is such an arousing thought. You know that your primal desire is taking over and what you’re doing with Chaeryeong is wrong but like what you and she said earlier: it’s just fair for both parties and well, karma’s a bitch.

The both of you know where this will go, as it will end on a filthy note and that’s your goal for the time being. Chaeryeong lays her back flat onto the marbled concrete wall as she raises her arms up, making you eye her scrumptious body all you want as she took this as a complimentary move, letting out small whimpers as an encouragement for arousal and spicier foreplay.

“I guess you love my body, huh?”

“I do, Chaery—there’s nothing to dislike about it in any way. This is just perfect…” Catching her off-guard, your lips swiftly pecked her collarbones with kisses and you suckled onto the porcelain skin, but not enough to mark her.

“O-Oh god—that’s g-good—keep doing that…”

And you certainly did. Over the course of a minute, you give her kisses that implies peak affection and admiration as you shower them with it, not leaving any inch untouched with your soft flesh. You kept the atmosphere heated up with numerous pecks as she moaned in response, fueling you to keep up the good work that you bestowed upon her. It didn’t take too long for you to pull out as you’re satisfied with the message you’ve given her and Chaeryeong isn’t done yet, and demanding for more of it.

“You’ve got me riled up on the start, baby—now I gotta reward you for that.” Chaeryeong pushes herself out of her relaxed state, and stands closer towards you, leaning onto your ear and whispering, “How do you want me, for today, hm?”, and then leaning back with a wide grin full of anticipation and lust. 

There's a plethora of options you can possibly do with Chaeryeong, yet so little time to choose from them as you don’t want Chaeryeong to grow impatient. It didn’t take long before you come up with a final decision, and with a delightful smirk to finally live up to the anticipation, everything will be unveiled within seconds—

“I want you from behind and I want you to let me chose, Chaery.”

A simple wish but quite enough to make her mind go wider than the outskirts of her limits—all of the possible ways she could encourage you courses down her veins and this just fuels her enthusiasm more. With such anticipation stored from earlier now broken into pieces, she didn’t waste time to put on a spectacular show that will be surely remarkable as she strips off her clothing but before she continues, she wants to ask you something first and that alone, makes you anticipate even more.

“Would you like me fully-naked or—”

“All of your clothing stays on except your shorts and panties—these fishnets and your top is too hot to be taken off.”

Your wish will be fulfilled as her fingers starts to get a grip on the hem of her glittery, black short and with one, swift motion, it was now down to her ankles and you were revealed with a black thong that perfectly complimented her curves and as the cherry on top, her perfect, pink pussylips on display with just the thin fabric refraining you to see it whole. It didn’t last that long as she stripped her thong a second after, revealing such a scrumptious sight of her glistening pussy, full of arousal. Now bending over, and almost sitting at the sink, she spreads her legs to give you a better view of such pristine and beautiful art as it makes your member twitch inside your clothed prison.

“See how wet I am, darling? That’s because of you and no one else. It’s not fair for me to just show off mine and not yours—come on baby, strip for me.”

She then faces you again, and it’s a must: you don’t want her to grow impatient as your hands quickly course its way onto the button of your pants yet you ask her like what she did earlier. “Do you like me fully-naked or—”

“Whatever you want, darling. I just wanna see that cock raging and throbbing for me—go on, do it.”

You can literally see the need in Chaeryeong’s eyes when she said those words—she meant it and she wants to see what you’re packing too. You wanted to be on par in terms of the stage of nakedness with Chaeryeong, settled with just your bottom-half stripped away from its clothed prison as you swiftly removed the chains that had been shackling the feral beast inside you. With each second that’s passing, Chaeryeong eyes your every movement, with a finger in her lip, biting it as your iron walls goes down one by one, and when it’s finally the last one, her eyes fixated onto your member and immediately, you yanked your boxers off, falling on your ankles as she’s meet with your fully-erect member.

“Oh—fuck, that’s a good, fucking cock right there. Holy shit—that alone makes me want to suck and gag on it.”

“But you said you’d let me choose, right?”

Well, she said that and speaking of that, she offered you what could be the best memory you could attain in your whole life. With Chaeryeong still halfly-sitting on the concrete sink, she seduces you with her sultry voice and utters, “You’re damn right—so what’s it going to be, hm? Would you want it balls-deep inside this tight, juicy cunt that has been wet since you’ve made me horny earlier?” Her dainty fingers reach to her labia and then teased onto her wet folds, letting you anticipate and think further ahead;

“Or would you want to gag me and fuck my face like a fleshlight you could never buy—for sure, you’ll feel fucking good when I lay my lips onto this beautiful cock—” Chaeryeong points at her mouth as she licks her lips and gave you an inviting look to further indulge to your primal desires;

“Or would you want it inside my tight, snug hole where my tightness is unparalleled and you’ll spank me hard in each thrust you do—” God, Chaeryeong really knows how to invite you in the most seductive, arousing and persuasive way possible. All options are optimal as you wanted to try them all but your heart shines onto one thing and that thing only: the curvature of her ass and the puckered hole presented on your view as your cock twitched uncontrollably once she invited you onto her own anal kingdom. Knowing that it;s the obvious winner and your need to really pound her ass until she submits onto pure lust and cock-drunk—it’s only a matter of time before it really becomes a reality: a will to succumb and dive into your long-awaited desires of lust.

“I’d like it up your ass, Chaeryeong—your ass would feel—” You inch closer, your hands palming the circumference of her cheeks as you initiated a slap, “—fucking incredible, I guess.”

Well, you might not even need to guess to know if her walls would feel euphoric but you could never be so sure. Chaeryeong cocks an eyebrow at you as she is confident with what she’s about to take yet she prepares herself for the main event. “There’s no way this big cock’s gonna fit all inside my ass—god, you’re really gonna go for it huh?”

“Who wouldn’t be? Now turn around for me and bend over.” It was all quick and you’re taking the risk—Chaeryeong expected it from the beginning because on the way you eye her ass, she knows that’s going to be your endgame but she never thought that you’ll really go for it. She didn’t argue not to retaliate as she’s done what she’s been told, quickly swiveling her figure and bending over the sink as the coldness of the concrete made her yelp a little but she didn’t care.

“Do you have any lube, Chaery? ‘Cause I—”

“Check the front zipper of my bag, it should be there—t-the small bottle with the white tip.” And you were amazed that she’s prepared and ready, as it almost feels like she planned this all along—maybe she did, but you could never be so sure. You then grabbed her bag and got the lube after a few seconds of finding, Chaeryeong then letting out a deep breath as she relaxed herself on what she’s about to take, taking a firm grip onto the ends of the concrete sink. 

“So naughty having these things ready, huh, Chaery?”

You squeeze a dollop on the bottle as a favorable amount gets released, and you lathered your fingers around it. You then directed your fingers onto the hot rim of her asshole, making her moan between her words as it felt electrifying. “I guess you’ll never know—ooh, I love your fingers teasing m-me—ahh, so good!” 

You continue teasing her puckered hole as it clenches every time your fingers meet it, feeling aroused with the sight of the hole being pleasured by you. An unholy sound escapes Chaeryeong’s lips as you insert your index finger inside her snug walls, moving so sluggish with the thrusts you’re ensuing and wanting more. You pleasure her anally with even the slightest of events even happening inside it, what more wonders you can do once you’ve inserted your whole length inside her walls. You continue your anal fingering up in her ass as she can’t help but let out such erotic moans that it becomes a norm once you move your fingers in a bobbing motion. You twist, circle, withdraw, slam back in, vibrate and it repeats like a cycle, your actions aiming to give Chaeryeong the tease of her lifetime and in order to get her hole ready enough for an absolutely mindless gaping.

“Y-Your finger—up in m-my ass—oh god, i-it’s so good—-so, so fucking good!”

Chaeryeong couldn’t contain her moans as her needs are going absolutely out of hand, herself getting unhinged with the moment your fingers a knuckle-deep, lathering her walls with lube. With this hot scene being started because of you, her hands directly went to her glistening pussy as she tries to finger herself but your other hand stopped her, not wanting her needs to be fulfilled as yours should be attended first, not hers—it’s such a great time to have the higher authority.

“No—I’ll do the rest. Just relax yourself Chaery—god, your ass is so tight with even just my fingers, what more if my cock’s inside this?” You initiated another harsh spank while fingerfucking her ass, which earns the most erotic and hottest moans imaginable on this planet. That alone further ignites the flames of your ruthless teasing, but you can’t help but think of your temptations too, lying low onto the edge of the cliff waiting for someone to pay attention to them and it’s not going to be long until the climax of the show comes off to a start. Now lathering a copious amount of lube onto your shaft and spreading it, from base to tip, you know it’s about to be world-breaking once you feel her tight walls and knowing Chaeryeong is more than ready, you didn’t hesitate to set yourself closer to the promised land.

Without hesitation, you tease your engorged tip onto the rim of her seeking heat as she relaxes her anal muscles to aid for your comfort but it was just too impossible to not feel her utter tightness. Even with just the tip inside, Chaeryeong can’t help but let out her own profanities as your cock is just too pleasurable for her to handle. You tell Chaeryeong to relax herself and let your whole length discover new lengths of her velvety walls and she does so, but you can’t deny the peak tightness her ass is giving and god, it’s too euphoric to be felt as you savor every moment possible. 

“God—you’re so fucking tight, Chaery—damn, I’ll make sure you’re going leave out of restroom with a gaped hole and a load dripping down your thighs—s-shit, you’re so tight!”

“O-Oh g-god—gahh—baby, y-you’re so big—just k-keep it all the way in! Oh my fucking god!”

Mutual compliments and involuntary responses is a norm once you've felt each others’ touch as you find yourself relaxing even more, making room for you to plunge your whole length deeper. As you reach new depths of her snug walls, groans of pain and pleasure escape both your sinful mouths as Chaeryeong gets acquainted with the profound length of your whole cock, being buried down to the hilt. Once you’ve filled your entire length inside her, Chaeryeong didn’t let you thrust in for a while as she’s trying to be accustomed to your entire length that’s bound to break her in half on what you have in store.

Yet within seconds, she can’t resist the utter temptation that’s been consuming her earlier, unable to control it and let yourself be the man who will write this down in the history books.

And then, she snaps and lets her carnal desires win, “Now fuck me with everything you can, baby.”

Given the green light, you muster up the built-in energy that has been hibernating all through you and produced such an incredible pace to start this anal session. Chaeryeong’s composition and attunement of moans becomes a newly-profound act that blesses your ears and propels your hips to do such unstoppable thrusts. Gripping her hips for a better leverage, you fuck her in a pace that’s moderate yet every withdrawal with only the tip inside, and then the slamming of your pelvis and filling her up to hilt is hard—it’s so hard that it’s capable to produce such resonating sounds between the frequent clashing of both your bodies. Sounds of broken melodies can be heard around the restroom as inevitable, Chaeryeong drips like a waterfall in every thrust you do, forming a puddle on the marble floor which even fuels you more and arouses you into oblivion. With your hard thrusts, adding a remarkable element that’s poignant in her own view would be a sight to see. So, with that being said, you introduce such hard spanks in every oscillation you do and it just makes the devil inside you lure onto your absolute villainous desires—and it’s breaking you over the limit but you can just find yourself diving into the abyss deeper.

You could just find yourself onto the goal of breaking her apart and make her a tumultuous, whimpering mess and that’s what you need to make her to be at this given moment. You could never muster up a breakneck pace with her marvelous tightness yet you’re capable of mustering such harsh thrusts that everytime your bodies meets, it feels like titans had clashed against each others as the sound emits the epitome of sex and the jiggling of her thighs becomes an hypnotic sight. Every spank you do to her now rosy buttcheeks makes her snug walls clench harder, which makes her even tighter and that feeling is bittersweet—thanks to the lube, everything is just better and much easier. 

“Is this what you wanted, hm, Chaery? For your ass to get fucked like a fucking whore in this restroom and then drip like a broken faucet? Shit—you’re goddamn tight still—fuck!!”

“I w-wanted this for—ahh, fuck—s-so long! Pound m-me harder—o-open me and use me!”

Even with such harsh hammerings of your entire length inside her asshole, you still can't fathom how she’s still absurdly tight as it just surprises you that her walls grip like there’s no tomorrow, suffocating the entirety of your member in each thrust you ensue. She’s now being fully submitted onto submissiveness as she falls under the control of you as she’s now absolutely being drowned in the sea of lust and pleasure, absolutely in no man’s land as she tends to be lost in it. You tend to caress her porcelain skin while maintaining an incredible pace of thrusts, and then surprising her with an immediate spank which earns the most beautiful plethora of moans known to man. Your spanks became prominent to the point that Chaeryeong whines uncontrollably without your hand harshly landing a spank on her already red-hued buttcheeks. 

Knowing how Chaeryeong’s stimulation is now at an all-time high, you let down your guard and give her mercy as your fingers start swiping down her needy cunt and inserting it inside the velvety heat of her walls. In response, Chaeryeong lets out a cry (can be defined as scream because of how loud and high-pitched it is) as she voices out the marvelous quality of pleasure that has been coursing down her veins. With the harsh onslaught of hard thrusts that you’re giving her and your constant fingering of her wet folds, it didn’t take long for Chaeryeong to achieve her long-awaited orgasm as the constant clenching of both holes makes it evident, another dam bound to break and go loose.

“Oh god—baby, I’m—I’m g-going to cum!!”

“Damn, Chaeryeong—you’re going to cum with your ass getting fucked? Don’t worry, I’ll fulfill your wants right now…”

The prophecy should be fulfilled, and with your incredible acts of stimulation, Chaeryeong breaks loose as she sprays all over the marbled tiles of the sink and some on the floor, marking her earth-thudding orgasm of the day as you didn’t slow down nor get bothered to be concerned with her—Chaeryeong herself even begged for you to keep fucking her ass while she’s in a transcending state of bliss and you did just that. With the given scene of her cumming, it got you more riled up and aroused that you couldn’t contain the lust that has been inside you, shackled from its confines. Even with the cock-drunken Chaeryeong, she helped you achieve your own high by fucking herself onto your raging length and you can just find yourself in the paramount of happiness and there’s nothing you can ask for. 

Now with the blissful event coming onto a near close, you wanted to savor and make the best out of this. So, you immediately commanded her to take her hands off the sink and place it at the back of her waist and suddenly, she obliged onto your command and did it as you wrapped your hands around it and you made that as a leverage onto a mindless fuckery. You overdo yourself with your recent masterclass, further ramming in your hips into her snug hole and aiming to gape her open until you’re filling her up to the hilt. At this point, Chaeryeong is just in a pure state of bliss and incoherent to articulate such words yet she still manages to encourage you to cum sooner as she wants it for so long and she doesn’t need to wait further because it’s coming near.

“Come o-on—oh fuck—cum i-in my slutty, t-tight assho—le—fuck, just c-cum in please! Please, oh f-fuck!”

Giving her the last, few hard thrusts, you bury your entire length in her as you spray such copious amounts of semen that painted every inch of her anal walls white. Wanting to extend the orgasm, your hips oscillate more thrusts until you grow sensitive and then stop, your entire length just buried inside her ass and refusing to pull out. 

Yet there’s no way you can stay inside her forever even though you want to. So, you slowly pulled out with all of the strength you have as it’s so unbearably tight that you thought it would be possible to pull out of her snug hole. You took a moment to appreciate her completely gaped asshole, your cum oozing out of it as it slowly drips down to her thighs due to the vast volume of it. 

Guess rearranging her guts to the fullest and making her legs almost viable to give out is such a dream, and would want to live here forever.

“Congratulations, the both of you cheated against each other—hah~ you came a lot in me—oh…”

You don’t know whether you’ll be delighted or vexed with that though, yet you feel an immense amount of joy after having a rough, anal fucking with an incredibly hot girl named Lee Chaeryeong. 

“Yah—stop mentioning her but—god, that was good, Chaery…” You let out exasperated breaths as you can see Chaeryeong is doing the same, but she painted a satisfied grin onto the mirror before facing down and letting out more breaths. The both of you rushed to fix yourselves and dress up as you two completely forgot that you’re still in a public place and wanting to get out of this filthy, sinful place. After that, Chaeryeong pulls your wrist as you face her, giving an interesting look as you anticipate what she will say.

“Hey, give me your phone.”

“Why?” You reach out on your phone at your jacket as she grabs it swiftly, carefully tapping onto your phone as she answers, “I’m going to give you my number—you seem like an interesting guy.”

When she’s done, she gave it to you with a sincere smile on her face but it doesn’t end just like that, and gave her phone to you to enter yours so the both of you will now have contacts towards each other. You press multiple buttons while you hubristically talk with her, “You’re a nice girl too, Chaery—” You then give her phone back, not without a faint smile that emanates delight around the room. “—and thanks for the treat…”

Chaeryeong scoffs as she gets shy again, yet her eyes tell you how much she’s thankful for you. “Thanks too—you’re such a great fuck.” Chaeryeong then fixes her things and herself as she mutters one thing before leaving with you, “I’ll be expecting you tomorrow, at this bar, around 4 P.M., okay? I gotta get to know you better and hopefully you sort things out with her and leave that douchebag, okay?”

Your heart struck like you won a lottery and her boldness, fuck, you think that she’s really the perfect one for you and this is maybe the endeavor you’ve been looking for—and it’s just getting started.

[scififettuccine]

Victoria Neuman x Fem!Reader: Darts

Pairing: Victoria Neuman x Fem!Reader

Summary: Quick One-Shot Hurt/Comfort! Your girlfriend finds you playing darts in your office, and she can tell that something is up. If there's one thing Victoria doesn't like, it's seeing her girlfriend upset.

Word Count: 1.25k

Warnings: Darts (?), mentions of Homelander, mentions of Homelander being a whore, mentions of family death, glass cuts, corrupt government system, Vicky being a raging lesbian

Notes: I wrote this after playing darts for 3 hours. As you can see the concept has infected my brain. IF YOU DON"T UNDERSTAND HOW CRICKET WORKS WITH DARTS I'M VERY SORRY. (And honestly I don't know if the way my family plays is exactly right so don't come after me Dart Experts.) I know I put up a pole, and this option lost by a long shot, but half of it was already written and I needed to finish it since it was super gut wrenching <3

Your parents had added to the growing number of many unnecessary obituaries that came out of Homelander’s career. It happened around this time, ten years ago. Your parents had owned a bakery in the city, and on a hot day ten summers back, someone attempted to rob their small business. Of course, after the authorities were called, Vought added their golden boy to the scene. They must have expected some sort of heroic story, with a headline like “The Seven’s Homelander saves the lives of two elderly bakers, and keeps the beloved business open.” But instead of that headline, they weren't mentioned in any headline…Only in the obituary section of a few local newspapers due to Vought covering up Homelander’s sloppy use of his heat vision. The last you saw of your parents' bodies was the bottom half of one…and the top half of the other. You were twenty, planning your parent’s funeral all on your own from your dorm room halfway across the country. All Vought sent was a card extending their deepest condolences, signed by the company's CEO, and Homelander himself. Since then? You’ve had a vendetta against Homelander and Vought as a whole. Coincidentally, that's how you met your girlfriend, Victoria Neuman, and started working for The Federal Bureau of Superhuman Affairs.

You had been in your office all day, admittedly drowning yourself in work so you didn't have to think about it all. But once there was nothing else to drown yourself in, you cracked open another redbull and decided to play a game of darts. Since you didn't have a partner, you just decided to time yourself to see how long it would take you to clear the scoreboard: Three twenties, three nineteens, three eighteens, three seventeens, three sixteens, three fifteens, and three bullseyes. And of course…all your attempts were aimed at the sympathy card that had turned ten years old this morning. You played darts often, so you had gotten down to the bullseyes within 10 minutes. Yet the more you missed, the more you got upset…the more your mind drifted. You thought about what might have happened had you not gone off to college.

Double ninteens.

You thought about what might have happened had you just stayed and helped to better the family business.

Double sixteens.

You thought about what would have happened if you would have answered the phone when they called you earlier that day.

Shattered glass.

You gasped as the last dart you threw hit the frame you had hung on the wall, housing a photo of you and your parents holding a photo of you and your parents at your highschool graduation. You shook your head as you walked over to the mess…the dart you had thrown had pierced right through the center of the photo…right through your face. It was lodged deep into the wall, due to the force of your throw. You wanted to cry, scream out of frustration even…But a voice broke you out of your thoughts.

“Everything alright in here, pretty girl…?” You heard the voice of your girlfriend and turned around, stepping over a bit to try and hide the mess of glass shards. When your eyes met hers, there was a concerned look on her face.

“Yeah…Yeah. It’s all good, Vic. I just knocked a picture frame off the wall.” You said, desperately trying to make your voice sound a little more upbeat than it truly was. Vicky raised a brow and looked up at the dart sticking out of the wall, then over to the dart board, and then to the card that was push-pinned to the dart board. Her gaze immediately softened, and her heart dropped.

“Baby…” She started, walking further into your office so she could close the door behind her. You shook your head and turned back around, trying to pick up some of the bigger glass shards with your hands.

“I’m fine. It’s not-” You cut yourself off with a wince as a piece of the glass slit your palm. “Shit-” Vicky shook her head and quickly moved to your side. She took your hand and turned your palm so the glass you had collected would fall back into the pile.

“You’re not fine. And you’re clearly not thinking straight if you're picking up broken glass with your bare hands, you're smarter than that.” Vicky sighed, moving to untuck her dress shirt so she could wipe the blood from your palm. It was moments like these where you truly understood how much Vicky cared about you. She would ruin a perfectly white dress shirt just to wipe blood off of a small cut. “You’ve gotta talk to me, pretty girl…What’s going on? You’ve been in here all day, there's 3 empty cans of RedBull on your desk, and you just threw a dart through a picture frame. Talk. Now.” You sighed and tried to pull your hand away, to which she held it a bit tighter.

“I can’t fucking stand it. How Vought gets off scott free after every fucked up thing they do. I was twenty years old, planning my parents' funeral from my dorm room. And what was he doing? Probably getting sucked off by some higher up for ‘a job well done.’ My parents were the only people I had. I sat in the first pew of that church alone. Completely and utterly alone.” You paused to take a breath, and pointed to the card pinned to the dart board. “That’s all I got. That’s all I have to show for it. I got…what? A fifty cent card with a bogus apology and two signatures on it? My parents were-” You choked on your words. “My parents were fucking sliced in half-” Your voice seemed to have left you as Vicky pulled you against her chest, being careful of the pile of glass shards.

“I know, baby…I know.” She cooed softly, tracing patterns on your back. Admittedly, you just sobbed into her shoulder, clutching onto her blazer as if it would disappear if you didn't. The two of you just sat like that. You couldn't even say how long. It was just the two of you, Vicky whispering comforting words to you as you let the ten years of suppressed emotions finally find some relief. “You are so strong, honey…And so incredibly loved, I want you to know that. You never have to hide these things from me. Whenever you want to talk about it, I'm here. I don’t care if I’m at a meeting with the god damn president…I’ll get to you as fast as I can.” Vicky pulled your face off her shoulder, and wiped your tears ever so gently. “I love you…So fucking much. It hurts me to see you like this.” Vicky herself was almost choked up at the sight of you in such sadness. She kissed your lips softly, before she moved to press her forehead against yours, her hands holding both sides of your face. “What can I do to make you feel even just a little bit better…? Say the word and it's yours.” She whispered. You swallowed and took a breath as you placed your hands over hers.

“Ice cream…and a Band-Aid.” You replied softly. Vicky laughed and squeezed your cheeks ever so slightly. 

“That's it? Just ice cream and a Band-Aid? You could have anything and you chose ice cream and a Band-Aid?” She smiled and shook her head, pressing another gentle kiss to your lips.

“Yeah…That’s it.” You replied softly.

“Alright pretty girl…what flavor?”

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

Well...what can I say? Shes my favorite. Hope you liked it as much as I did, most likely starting either Butcher x Supe!Reader or Soldier Boy x Sidekick!Reader real soon depending on the results of the pole...It's been really really close! Adieu!

[hunny-beann]

Desiderium I

Loki Laufeyson x f!Reader

-> Part II

Note: This fic absolutely breaks cannon in multiple ways, but I felt the urge to write this and created it thus lol, so I hope you enjoy regardless (and for my own sanity, we'll just call this an avenger!Loki au).

Synopsis:

Loki is plagued by a dream thrust upon him as punishment during his imprisonment, and finds that even once he regains his freedom, he still can't move past the vision of the life he could have had with you. And when those around him struggle to understand his sorrows, he decides to show them firsthand what he endured while asleep that night, and all that he lost both by waking up, and by making all of the wrong choices for far too long.

Oh, but it's never truly over, is it?

And your sudden reappearance proves that.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of pregnancy

Word Count: 5,057

"Does he ever stop sulking?"

Tony muttered under his breath after sparing a quick glance toward the aesir God of Mischief that sat in the corner of the room, staring into a cloud of green created by his own hand with a type of longing he had worn almost constantly for months now.

At first, many had thought his sullen nature to be a result of his capture and subsequent imprisonment, but even now that he was far more free to roam and do what he pleased (within reason), his somber attitude still had yet to let up.

In fact, some would even swear that it had gotten worse.

The God of Thunder included, and also in particular.

From the beginning, Thor had perhaps been the biggest defender of his younger brother, and of course he had, how could he not be?

But even still, when it came to the questioning of Loki's less than enthusiastic (and at times, borderline concerning) behavior, Thor somehow managed to become even more defensive of his confusing family member and all of the quirks that he seemed to have.

This occasion included.

He turned toward Anthony Edward Stark with a slight frown, a sigh that seemed reserved purely for situations concerning Loki passing his lips,

"All of this has been rather... difficult for him. There is much that he misses about our realm, and even more that he has lost."

Tony rose a brow at that, fighting back a groan at the seemingly constant dramatics of the "Odinson" siblings.

Who would have thought that two gods could be so annoyingly theatrical?

"A lot of people have lost a lot of things, Point Break. Some of them at his hand, in case you need a reminder."

Tony muttered, struggling to find sympathy for the green themed deity sitting across the room, a look of deep longing and sorrow in his gaze as he continued staring into the cloud of his own creation.

Thor sighed again.

"I do not, Stark, nor does my brother. He had a multitude of things revealed to him in dreams delivered by the gods whilst locked away. He is... Not the same."

Tony sighed, shrugging his shoulders as he tried to return his focus toward what he'd been doing before he'd made the mistake of mentioning Loki to his older brother.

"Whatever you say, big guy. Just do me a favor though and ask him if he can practice his daily sulking rituals somewhere else. His whole 'woe is me' vibe makes it a little hard to focus."

Thor sighed again at his comrade's obvious lack of compassion toward his clearly suffering sibling, but he nodded nonetheless.

"I will see what I can do, Stark."

And with that, he was taking familiarly heavy steps toward Loki, each growing more hesitant than the last as he took in the full sight of him.

It was no wonder that Tony found his presence to be so distracting, because in truth, you could all but feel his angst rolling off of him in waves, strong and undeniably present in a manner that almost made the god himself shiver.

It was not easy for the god of mischief, what he was going through, but perhaps even Thor himself had managed to underestimate it.

Perhaps he should have been even more concerned than he already was.

"Loki."

He said stiffly upon his approach, watching as the god in question briefly glanced in his direction in acknowledgement before returning his gaze back to his seidr.

"I sympathize greatly with your sorrows, and I wish truly that I could do away with them for you, but a request has been made for you to better contain your bereavements, if possible, and I think it would be best for you to try."

Thor said calmly, though he could see as plain as day that his words had done no good, a fact made evident by the way that his brother turned to look at him, as if both wounded and infuriated at the very same time.

What a familiar look that was for the mischief god to wear these days.

He stood, green cloud disappearing as he did so, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.

"Do you believe somehow that I have not already done all that I can to contain my grief, you blithering fool?"

He all but hissed, anger controlling his words but a deep and pervasive sadness evident in his eyes, allowing the god of thunder to see far beyond the ruse his sibling was attempting to put up.

Loki was hurting, perhaps beyond anything that he had endured before, and Thor was unsure if that could have been made any more clear.

The god of mischief took a step closer, slowly, threateningly, as if he might frighten the being standing before him, the only one present that had ever truly seen the good in him, the angel before the fall.

A trickster to be sure, but the villain that he so desperately tried to make himself out to be? Thor could not see such a thing, not in the eyes of one he had grown up alongside of.

Not in his brother, regardless of blood.

Regardless of what was said or done.

"You haven't the slightest clue what I have endured, and yet you have the gall to request that I reign in my pain, as if it is not all that has been left of me? All that has not been so crudely taken?"

He snarled, coming closer, ignoring the heavy gaze of Anthony Stark as it landed upon him, and choosing to pay no mind to the fact that he had undoubtedly called the others in, a fact made clear by the large number of footfalls that grew nearer and nearer by the second.

Maybe Tony was simply a fool made cautious by what he had seen the god do in the past, or maybe he just wished to not be the only audience for this particular spat.

Either way, it mattered not to Loki.

The god in question was far too tired, far too angry, and far too confused to let such a disrespect as this pass.

If they did not understand, then he would make them, and maybe then they could comprehend the realness, the immense depth and crushing weight of his pain.

The burden he bore.

The reaping of what he had sowed long ago, without even realizing it.

The universe had never been fair, not to him, and it was apparent now that such a truth had persevered from the very start.

Back before his title had meant more than a whisper to him, before he had felt the need to prove he was more.

When there had been so much more kindness in his heart and light in his life.

When there had been hope,

When there had been you.

Thor put his hands up defensively, though how secure he truly felt in spite of this almost entirely symbolic and pleading gesture was made clear by his tone, which was pitying in every sense of the word.

"Calm down, brother, I meant no disrespect. I simply feel a deep worry for you, I do not want to watch you suffer any longer. It is a heavy weight upon me to know that you are so burdened."

He said appealingly, eyes full of a type of plea and concern that, once upon a time, might have caused the god of mischief to think for a moment, and perhaps even halt his actions altogether.

But now was not then, and after all that he had seen, all that was now and could have been, he found that his brother's words only served to make him angrier.

"You feel a heavy weight, do you?"

He said darkly, stalking ever forward, even as Thor backed away slowly with each step, not wishing to see his family member trapped in a cage once again as a result of some petty fight.

There was rage in Loki's eyes now, though it did nothing to cancel out the sadness there.

It was clear what was driving him, but even more evident was how upset the god was about that fact.

He did not like being so controlled by his emotions, resented the way that everyone could tell how he was feeling in spite of how hard he tried to hide it.

He had done his best to conceal his sorrows and this was what he had gotten? A request for more, as if he would not have hidden them away entirely in favor of allowing those who were once his enemies to see his weaknesses? The way that truth had changed him?

It infuriated him to no end.

"Can you even begin to imagine then,"

He started, voice low, but just loud enough so that every avenger who had now entered the room could hear it from where they stood together in silence, watching as Loki stalked ever closer to his brother, hands still clenched at his sides, jaw unfathomably tense, and muscles twitching with a quiet kind of rage.

"What I am feeling?"

He finished viciously.

Thor frowned, voice still full of pity and something akin to longing as he replied, tone still entirely bereft of fear,

"I know only what you have told me, dear brother."

He said, watching as Loki all but scoffed at his words,

"So in that way, yes, I suppose I am capable of imagining what you must feel."

The god of mischief laughed in response to this, a humorless and cold sound that was choked by some long abided pain, some endless suffering that only a god could understand, and that no mere mortal could ever endure and survive.

"I think not."

He snapped angrily, watching as Thor's brow creased in response, not understanding what about his reply had been so terribly wrong that it had brought about such a strong reaction from his sibling.

Loki continued,

"I think that if you could even begin to comprehend what I have seen, what I have lost, you would never even think to make an attempt at consoling or correcting me, nor could you ever deign to imagine believing that the small amounts of my grief witnessed through my behavior could be decreased any further. If you could truly understand, you would know the weight that I carry, and you would see that it could never be lessened, because there is truly no greater grief than that which I am suffering from!"

Thor stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, before finally he spoke up once more, voice slightly smaller, though still not lacking in compassion or empathy.

"Brother, I beg you to help me understand better so I may communicate this suffering of yours to those around us who do not know you as well as I. We are guests here on Midgard, and I cannot allow for you to push this pain of yours onto our hosts so endlessly without solution or a shared understanding in mind. How can you expect anyone to have faith or sympathy for you if you will not tell us what has happened?"

Thor's pleas caused yet another round of laughter to burst forth from the god of mischief, though this one was less pained and a bit more angry, a twinge of eagerness to it that did not spell out anything good, not for Thor nor any of the unwelcome audience present within the room alongside them.

"You wish for me to let them see? For me to grant you understanding?"

Loki hissed out, a familiar and volatile energy filling the room as he began to use his seidr to do just that.

"Loki-"

Thor warned, moving to take a step forward when suddenly, the entire room seemed to disappear beneath his feet, and without warning, he found himself in a place entirely unfamiliar to him, standing amongst his peers in a small crowd that occupied some unseen corner of whatever space this was.

He watched as Tony turned to look at him, frustration and confusion etched into his features and mouth opening to speak just as a familiar voice cut through the silence.

It was Loki, but not the one that those watching had come to know.

No, this was a Loki long forgotten by time and entirely unknown by the avengers present to witness this dream that the god of mischief had once so vaguely described to his brother while in the thralls of his pain.

This was the vision that the gods had shown to the adopted son of Odin during his imprisonment within the Avenger's tower months prior.

This was where his sadness, his grief, and his longing had stemmed from.

And it was clear, as they all watched on, why that may have been.

It was beautiful here, wherever here was.

The sun shone through every window, and this place, clearly a home, was adorned with stunning textiles and masonry, each detail obviously considered and brought to life with such care and intention that it could bring one to tears if they focused on it long enough.

Thankfully for the onlookers though, this would not be necessary, because the Loki in question who stood before them made for quite a distracting sight.

He looked younger here somehow, features untouched by some pervasive strain or anger that had long since gotten to the man that was so well known to them now.

His expression was peaceful, happy, so devoid of the angst or maliciousness that many were used to seeing.

This version of Loki, whoever he was, and whenever he had existed, was one that did not yet know the things that he did now, one that had found something that his truest self had not.

Happiness.

And it was clear, as this version of the god of mischief spoke, where that came from.

"Dearest Starlight, have you the faintest idea of how much I've missed you?"

He muttered into the hair of the woman standing before him, one arm wrapped around her while the other cupped the back of her head gently, lovingly, and with such fondness that it almost hurt to watch

This was a man overcome with, and undoubtedly changed by love.

They could see it in his eyes and the way that they lit up when the woman, whoever she was, moved away slightly to look up at him, and in the way that he pressed his forehead to hers with such love and clearly intentional gentleness.

He adored this person standing before him, and judging by the tears brimming in Thor's blue eyes, she was far more than a simple dream, or someone made up by the mind to have and to hold.

No, this was someone that they had known, perhaps long ago, perhaps yesterday, for the timing itself mattered ever so little.

What mattered instead, was that this individual, whoever she was, meant the world and more to the very person that the onlooking crowd had once believed to be devoid of the organ capable of love and affection.

She was important, and she was special, and above all else, she was seemingly a vast source of grief for the two son's of Odin, though one in particular far more than the other, the latter of which stood amongst them with a sadness that was almost assuredly not for himself evident within his gaze.

Thor may have known this girl, whoever she may be or have been, but his tears were not for his own loss of her, no, they were instead for Loki's. He watched the two of them with such rapt and sad fondness that it was all but impossible to deny that fact.

He adored what the two of them shared, and mourned its absence.

And in truth, the unwelcome onlookers could not help but feel similarly.

This woman was beautiful to be sure, with shining hair and twinkling eyes, and a gentle touch that she laid upon the deity standing before her with such care and devotion.

She smiled up at him lovingly, mouth still curved upward even as she spoke, her reply teasing, but far from mockery, mischievous in a way that was befitting of any love of Loki Laufeyson.

"Just me?"

She asked amusedly, carting her fingers through the god's soft black locks and watching with gentle laughter as he simply rolled his eyes in response before he leaned down to kiss her sweetly without a single word, the arm that was still wrapped around her waist tugging her closer before he finally pulled away a few seconds later, joy obvious within his expression, in spite of her ardent teasing.

"Do not ask me such foolish questions, my dear, or I may just be required to seal your lips against mine for all eternity to keep you quiet."

He murmured with his forehead pressed against hers, his nose brushing against her cheek for a few moments until he pulled back with a sigh,

"I suppose I should change before I make myself at home again, hmm?"

He asked with mock exasperation, tucking a few strands of the woman's hair behind her ear as she laughed in reply, nodding almost immediately.

"That would most certainly make me a happy wife, indeed."

She said, pulling further away from him before walking over to the kitchen area and removing something from the oven,

"Now hurry up and change before dinner gets too cold, foolish prince, or you may just find Thor helping himself to your portion again."

Loki gave an amused glare in response to this, but said nothing more, wandering swiftly down a long and dark hallway until he faded from view entirely.

After this, there was silence for a minute or two, a peaceful and joyous one that was occasionally interrupted by the sound of the woman's gentle humming, or one of a few a small noises from further down the hall, none of which seemed important enough to capture the woman in question's attention.

That being said, as Loki returned, something else did, though it notably grabbed hold of that of the audience as well, who stared on together in shock, though Thor was clearly the most baffled of them all.

For there was Loki Laufeyson, adopted son of Odin, Prince of Asgard, and god of mischief, with a child on his hip, one with hair the very color of his, and eyes that were an exact copy of his own.

The woman standing in the kitchen crossed her arms upon her husband's entrance into the room, raising a brow at him as she sighed and approached the two beings who had just graced her with their presence.

"And what business do you believe our daughter has with being up so late, Mr. Laufeyson?"

She questioned teasingly as she pressed a gentle kiss to the head of the little girl who was being held so affectionately within her father's arms, a sweet burble of laughter escaping her as the woman's lips tickled her skin.

The audience watched on in utter shock as Loki smiled softly at the sight, his shoulders shrugging slightly as he bounced the child, who appeared to be around a year old, upon his hip, arms keeping her steady with a well practiced and easy grace found only within a parent that had been present and involved enough to know their child like the back of their hand.

"I believe she has business with welcoming her dear father home regardless of the hour. Would you disagree, Mrs. Laufeyson?"

He murmured gently as he leaned forward to press a lingering kiss against his wife's lips, smirking at the sight of her reddened cheeks as he pulled away.

The wife in question sputtered for a brief moment before finally responding, glaring slightly up at the god of mischief for his antics, though they were no doubt familiar to her by now, judging by the ring wrapped around her finger and the child she had so plainly bore that sat now upon her husband's hip.

"I suppose not."

She replied gently, watching as Loki placed the child into her high chair, offering a toy of his very own creation to distract her with as he approached his spouse with a rather eager grin.

"No?"

He asked softly as he moved to stand behind her, his hands finding her shoulders and massaging the tense muscles there gently, his smile only growing as she sighed at the feeling and leaned into him with a practiced ease borne clearly of a long nurtured trust.

"How kind of you to see things my way for once, dear wife."

He murmured against the shell of the woman's ear, sending a shiver down her spine even as she rolled her eyes in response to his overly teasing tone and his seemingly ceaseless need to make an attempt at pushing her buttons.

"I wouldn't go as far as to say that, my prince."

She sighed out, still clearly pleased with the feeling of his hands rubbing practiced and efficient circles into her skin,

"I am simply allowing you this one small victory while you may still have it."

The god of mischief smirked upon hearing this, his brow raised and his voice low as he replied,

"Allowing me, hmm? What a benevolent ruler you are, starlight."

He all but purred out, and the woman nodded absently, still clearly wrapped up in the feeling of his hands on her body.

"Aren't I?"

She asked, a smile growing upon her face as she spoke,

"Allowing you to wake up our one year old daughter upon your return before you're forced to cease such childish behaviors once your son arrives in a few months time. How generous of me."

Loki hummed and replaced one of his hands that had been resting upon her shoulder with his chin, allowing his now free hand to travel down to her stomach, pressing against it and providing the opportunity for the onlookers to note for the very first time the way that it was rounded out slightly with child, yet another piece of evidence of the love that they shared.

A love that the Loki Laufeyson that they knew, the one that had been captured, imprisoned, and seemingly rehabilitated, had never known.

A love that he perhaps could have had, if only things had been different.

Slowly, faintly, at the sounds of softening laughter and contented discussions, the scene before everyone faded, and the harsh light of the tower persisted once more, blinding them all sharply in a way that the softness of the vision had not managed.

And there, before all of them, stood Loki, looking more than a little haggard with his hair out of place and his eyes brimming with tears.

It was Thor who spoke first.

"It was that which you saw, brother?"

He asked sympathetically, only for Loki to shake his head in response, tone far less angry and much more despondent as he spoke.

The sight of that vision, that memory of a dream delivered unto him one harsh evening to teach him some horrible lesson, had clearly hurt him far more than he wished to let on, and perhaps even more than he had thought it would.

"No."

He said,

"What I saw was far worse, I'm afraid."

Thor's eyebrows creased with both concern and confusion,

"Worse? Brother, I do not-"

"I had entire life with her, Thor."

Loki murmured gently, staring down at his own two shaking hands as if in disbelief that they belonged to him at all,

"I-I had thought truly that everything, all of this suffering and self-hatred had been the real dream all along, and that my time with her, beginning from back when we were all just children again, was reality."

He looked into his brother's eyes then, and allowed him to see the pain there, the sadness and longing for a life he had once believed himself to have lived, a life where he had chosen differently, and found better.

"I did everything the very same as in this lifetime, except instead of choosing power, or some poorly perceived form of acceptance at the hands of our father, I chose her every single time. I married her, brother, stood at the altar and watched her come to me, watched her be granted her rightful immortality at my side, built a house with her, for her, gave her a daughter, and a son, and many other children who I cannot bear to think about because I am in ruin over the fact that they were never real."

He paused, chest heaving, eyes never leaving those of his brother before finally, he continued,

"I know their names, Thor."

He choked out,

"The names of my children, every son and daughter born with some combination of my eyes and her smile, or her hair and my nose. I know their favorite foods, the toy they prefer over all of the rest, and the song that their mother would sing to put them to sleep the fastest."

His tears were beginning to run now, though if Loki noticed, he did not move to wipe them away or to hide them.

"I know everything about them, and yet they are not here, never were, and never will be, and it feels like I have lost all that I ever deigned to love. My wife, my children, a version of myself that I did not loathe, they are all lost to me, and I have died a thousand deaths for every waking moment spent without them by my side."

Thor's own eyes had grown teary now, and he stepped forward slowly, his arm outstretched, as if hoping to reach into his brother and take this pain away with his bare hands alone.

"Dear brother, forgive me."

He said softly, voice shaky in a way that was so very uncharacteristic of him,

"I did not know, I swear it."

Loki shook his head, some shadow of a smile, pained and without any semblance of joy finding his face,

"I know, Thor."

He said quietly,

"But do not waste your apologies on me. It is not your fault for not truly knowing, but mine for believing I could have her back again. She is gone, and I should have known that I could only ever have her in dreams."

Thor opened his mouth to speak, his expression flooded with sorrow, only to find that there was nothing that he could say.

The bridge to you was one that his brother had burned a long time ago, which had been lying in embers since.

Was he not right that you were largely gone from him? A memory of perhaps undeserved yet so very innocent love that he had shut out in order to keep moving forward until the gods had thrust what the two of you could have been upon him so cruelly?

It had been ages now, since Loki had seen or heard of you, and Thor was ashamed to admit that he too had locked you away in memory in favor of moving forward.

A childhood playmate, a most loyal friend far past adulthood, the once almost-lover of his mischievous younger brother, you were a great many things to him, and yet he could scarcely bear to think of you now.

Betrayal was what he had once thought of whenever you came to mind, but now, so many years later, he could see that you had never been the one to betray.

It had been him all along, him and Loki, albeit for two differing reasons.

Either way, the little witch they had once both known so fondly had been long dead to them for many moons now, until the very sight of you so happy, so alive, in spite of the fact that such a vision was a dream brought on by some vengeful deity, sent you careening back into their minds once more.

Where were you now? How had you fared without them, and possibly without your family as well? Were you even alive at all, after all of this time with only a witchling's feeble immortality to keep you alive rather than the godly kind that Loki had helped to bestow upon you within his dream?

Thor shook off these thoughts almost as quickly as they came, and watched on helplessly as Loki began to make his way toward the exit, eyes glued to the ground to avoid making eye contact with the small group of Avengers who had continued to watch on in surprise.

And perhaps, one of them may have piped up to say something, anything to provide comfort to the once so pesky god, had it not been for the sudden shift in the air, followed shortly thereafter by the very shredding of reality itself, as a tear opened up on the far wall, revealing a dark shimmering swirl of colors and lights that soon spat out a figure adorned in clothing that may have appeared foreign to any Midgardian, but was so very familiar to the one aesir god who stared on in utter shock.

Loki, on the other hand, seemed either entirely unaware of the strange circumstance occurring behind him, or uncaring of it, as he continued on his quest to leave the room entirely.

That is, until a voice so familiar that it all but snapped his heart in two called out to him.

"L-Loki?"

It asked weakly, strained and soft, but just barely loud enough to reach him where he stood.

The average man may have froze up entirely, disbelieving their own ears and blaming their minds for playing such cruel tricks on them, but Loki was no average man, and he did not believe his mind capable of making such a mistake.

He knew what he had heard.

He turned around instantly, already wide eyes growing wider when he found you on the floor there, an old cloak of his wrapped tightly around your shoulders.

"Starlight?"

He breathed out in utter disbelief, making his way over in just a few long and intentional strides before he all but collapsed to his knees in front of you.

[thisisourlovestory]

Safe and Sound

Finnick Odair x reader soulmate AU

Summary: you are a victor from district 4. The Quarter Quell has just been announced. How will you cope with the turn of events coming your way.

Word count- 2.8k

Notes: Happy New Year! Hope you enjoy this one. My phone deleted half of it so I had to rewrite it but that worked in my favour and I think it’s better than it was

Chapter 3

The next morning I was awoken by knocking at my door. Assuming it to be Lysander I ignored it and took my sweet time getting ready, taking a long shower under burning water, brushing my teeth vigorously, loosely clipping back the front strands of my hair and slipping on a pale blue dress from the wardrobe in the wall before making my way to the dining area. I followed the smell of freshly cooked bacon and pancakes, my mouth watering as I sat down and took a few pancakes, stacking them up, cutting a slab of butter that melted as soon as I dropped it on top, drizzling sticky sweet syrup over them and layering bacon on top. I grabbed a fork and dug into my towering pillar of food, the salty bacon contrasting with the sugary syrup. I polished it off in no time at all and reached for the piles of jewel like fruits, stacked in tiny ceramic bowls in the centre of the table. I had just bit into a slice of watermelon, pink juice dripping down the corner of my mouth, when Mags walked in with Lysander who flaunted a garish purple and gold striped suit and he began to speak as loudly as ever as I quickly wiped my chin.

“Good morning!” My head hit the table.

“Goodness Y/N, did you not get enough sleep last night?” He asked, looking at me with slight concern.

“I'm fine thank you for asking,” I answered, “Just woke up a bit too early.” I rubbed my head, smiling sheepishly and his gaze softened.

“That simply won't do!” He exclaimed, “We need you to be on top form for when you’re in the arena.”

“Lysander.” I called out softly, interrupting what was sure to be a long tirade. “I… I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for my outburst yesterday. I don't know what I was thinking. I suppose, well I suppose I was just a little overwhelmed by all this. I hope you can forgive me. “ I twisted a strand of my hair in my fingers and he took the bait immediately. I could almost see what he was thinking. Such a kind girl, she must be terrified, very sweet of her to apologise. His eyes gained a look of sympathy as he raised a hand to his heart and walked over to me.

“It's quite alright dear, no need for apologies. I completely understand you must be feeling absolutely terrified of all this. You did such a kind thing volunteering for Miss Cresta, so selfless, dear and I’m sure she appreciates it very much.” I nodded, going back to my food, and he clapped. “Now that's all sorted out, we need a plan for you.” He looked me up and down, assessing me as Mags grinned into her bowl at the look on my face. “I'm thinking we play the innocent card, the fact you were so young when you won will help with that a lot. You are one of the youngest in the games this year after all. We simply must also use the fact that you are a true performer and ballet is such a beautiful art form indeed so,” he turned to Mags, “I propose we paint her as an angel.”

I choked on a piece of watermelon, the apprehension on my face giving way to horror. Mags patted me gently on the back and I straightened in my seat, sending a grateful smile her way as Lysander continued, lost in his own world.

“Of course only your stylist can decide this but I’m fairly certain I can put in a word and if they didn't already have the same idea after watching the reaping then I'll eat my hat.” I eyed the purple monstrosity on his head and imagined it being stuffed into his mouth, wondering if maybe that would be the thing that would finally shut him up. I wanted to scream at him, tell him that I was no angel and he was a monster for finding some kind of pleasure in this, deciding what part I should play as I die. Instead I just smiled slightly and lowered my head to stop him from seeing the tears in my eyes. At that second Finnick walked in and Lysander's attention was immediately drawn to him. I sat silently as he practically interrogated him, asking how he was feeling, if he thought he could win. The answers were short, not letting anything interesting slip but giving enough to satisfy Lysander and fool him into thinking he was basically his new best friend. I zoned out part way through Lysanders rant about what the Gamemakers would throw at us this year- as if we hadn't all been thinking about it since they were announced. Suddenly, I was brought back to reality by the sound of my name.

“Y/N, Y/N.” I blinked and my gaze shifted to Lysander.

“Sorry.” I muttered

“Quite alright dear, you must be tired if you didn't get enough sleep. We're going to watch the games you were both in, for reference.” My mind didn't register the words and I simply nodded before I realised what he had said and my eyes widened in shock.

We watched Finnicks first, since he won before me. From the reaping all the way through to the crowning ceremony. He was confident in the interviews, dressed in the most impeccable suit and tie, clearly designed to show off his beauty, laughing at Caesar Flickerman's comments and responding with his own witty quips, not just a pretty face at all. Then utterly deadly in the arena. For the first few days he had lain low, not much excitement but enough to keep sponsors interested. Then he got the trident, the most expensive gift ever seen, and it was over. District 4 was fishing after all, and it seemed Finnick Odair was born to wield the trident. He captured tribute after tribute in a net and killed them all, offering no mercy. And finally the last cannon went off announcing him the winner. Fourteen years old and he had won, the youngest victor, the most handsome victor, the Capitol darling. Finnick Odair. If he was that good back then, I had no doubt he would be extraordinary now. He had it all as well, the looks which first made the Capitol love him, he was intelligent, and undoubtedly one of the best fighters that would be going into the arena. Mags and I sat there speechless as Lysander congratulated Finnick endlessly.

“And how you used that trident, extraordinary! I don't believe you'll struggle in these games now that you've had ten years to practise.” I could only think of how young he'd been, how he'd been forced to grow up so quickly after, how he'd won- but what was the cost?

Then my games were switched on; I saw myself going through it all over again. The walk up to the stage after my name was called, all eyes on me. The chariot ride where they had dressed me up as a mermaid, all shimmering fabrics and a golden crown. The interview, where Caesar asked me questions about my life back home and I answered quietly, barely audible, playing the sweet little girl as I danced for them momentarily. The arena, my frightened face as the boy from 10 died in front of me, running and hiding. Then a cut to as I made my first kills, I saw the light leave their eyes as the blood left their bodies. Another cut, to the chase and confrontation with Arion, the second the knife left my hand I closed my eyes and the thud as it hit him echoed in my ears.

They showed the crowning ceremony last, I stood calmly on the dais with my hands clasped in front of my body. I had been made to wear a white dress that fell to my knees and had a red bow tied around it. The same red adorned the pins in my hair, shaped like roses, and the single gem hanging from a silver chain around my neck. The significance was not lost on me, young as I was. I had killed three people in the arena so I wore three pieces of red. One for each of them, the crimson colour their blood on my hands. President Snow walked up slowly and placed the golden laurels on my head. He looked down at me, a small smile on his face as I gazed up at him, he whispered something that only I could hear. Words that left me pale and confused, words that could have been good but in the circumstances only sounded like the promise of a life of pain. His mouth moved on the screen and I read his lips.

“The Capitol will love you.” He stepped away and proclaimed me their victor. And it struck me how I looked so tiny compared to him and everyone around me, as the Capitol roared with applause and my big eyes stared out over them, disbelieving and uncertain before the tape ended leaving the compartment in silence.

I shoved my seat back, the legs screeching on the floor, and stood up quickly. Everyone turned to face me as I stayed still for a second.

“Y/N.” Lysander began but I cut him off.

“No, I just, I need to, I can't.” My brain was jumbled, old memories being dragged to the surface unwillingly. So I turned and I ran.

I sprinted along the train, pushing doors open as I ran through the compartments. Avoxes jumped out of my way as I barreled past them, looking at me in curiosity. I came to the end of the train and held my hands in front of me to push through the doors. I crashed through them and fell into the railing. I gripped onto the cold metal as if it was the only thing keeping me in reality, the wind rushed past me and my hair floated in front of me, strands whipping in the cold air. I could barely see, tears blurring my vision and hair covering my face. I took a shuddering breath, letting the cold air flood my lungs, and I broke. I cried and cried and cried. Letting out everything that I had kept bottled up for seven years. I had cried before, that day on the cliffs, that was for the games, for the fact that it was happening all over again for so many people across Panem. But this. This was for me. For every pain I had endured since I won, the evenings spent dancing and singing under lights focused solely on me, the fear of making a mistake stopping me from enjoying it fully, the nights spent alone, unable to sleep because of the nightmares, the days spent wandering around like a lost soul, wondering if it would ever be better than what it was.

So I cried for myself, in one selfish moment I allowed myself to only care about myself. Tears dripped down my face, droplets falling on the railing for what felt like forever. Eventually my throat grew raw and my eyes seemed to run out of tears to cry. I dropped my head forwards into my hands and my eyes glazed over with the memories I had suppressed.

I was no longer on the train headed to the Capitol. I was in the arena. Perched on an icy tree branch, pressed against the tree trunk to keep from slipping off. Hidden by the frozen leaves in the white fluffy clothing they had given us to wear. A tribute ran underneath my hiding spot, running away from something, two others followed chasing him. I immediately recognised them as career tributes, this was all just a game of cat and mouse to them. And they caught him. I shoved a piece of cloth in my mouth to stop myself from letting out any noise that would give myself away and clapped my hands over my ears to block out the noise of his screaming in pain and crying out for help from someone as they ripped into him, their laughter echoing in the otherwise silent forest. A warning that they were on the hunt and if you valued your life you would get out of there as soon as possible.

I had stayed in that tree for the first few days until I was eventually forced to move when the gamemakers released mutts into the arena. Great big slobbering beasts that lumbered along harmlessly until someone tried to kill one. Then all hell had broken loose as they chased tributes up trees and then hurled themselves unrelentingly at them, bringing them down and mauling them beyond recognition. They brought about the deaths of five tributes before they just disappeared, presumably called back out after doing their job.

I snapped out of my daze as I felt someone standing next to me. My gaze cleared as I pushed the memories back into a locked box in my mind. I didn’t need to look to know who it was, the mark on my wrist burning and on instinct I pulled my sleeve down and took a small step to the side to lessen the sting. It eased immediately from the small distance between us and faded to a dull throbbing. Finnick said nothing at my movement and we just looked out over the passing countryside, rolling green fields, trees that touched the sky and vast lakes stretching beyond the horizon. We stayed like that, peaceful, just taking it all in until he finally broke the silence.

“You were so young.”

I smiled bitterly, resting my chin on my open palm propped up on the railing.

“We all were but we had no choice. They just want to watch their games. And they don’t care if innocent children die so they can have them.” I laughed slightly. “Then they get the one that lives.” I shook my head, my fingers tightening on the rail, the cold metal biting into my skin. “They get to kill us then they get to keep us.” I turned around, leaning backwards onto the railing and looked up, watching the clouds move slowly away in the blue sea of the sky. Then the Capitol came into view, towering buildings taking up the skyline, marring it with grey,

“I'm going to go back in,” Finnick said, following my line of vision, “You should as well.” With that he stepped back into the train, not sparing a second glance as I watched him walk through a set of doors and out of sight. I relaxed as he left and stayed in my position, head tilted skywards, eyes closed until I felt tiny drops of water on my face. I opened my eyes to see rain falling, a light drizzle but enough to dampen my clothes and hair, I laughed slightly and walked inside, the warmth hitting me in a blast. I hadn't realised how cold I'd been before but the heat warmed me and my clothes quickly dried off. I looked over my shoulder as I walked through the doors that slid open, the rain pattering on the windows lightly, a last glimpse of normality.

I quickly made my way through the train, hearing Lysander screeching at unfortunate avoxes to find me as if I was missing and he had no idea where to find me. I stepped into the compartment to see him looking frazzled, he immediately caught sight of me standing unsurely at the edge of the room and gave a dramatic sigh of relief.

“Not to worry everyone she's here.” The train jolted to a stop. “We have arrived.” Lysander practically squealed and eyed me.” Dear, you should just fluff out your hair a bit, and try to look happy for the cameras.” I nod my head once and plaster a smile on my face. He nodded in approval.

We made our way to the doors. Finnick and I stood either side of Lysander and Mags was just behind us. I can see people through the windows already, screaming and shouting with excitement.

“Now everyone, remember this is the first time they will see you so make sure to leave a good impression. That means smile and wave, blow a few kisses if you have to.” Lysander told us, focusing his words mostly on me. A bell rang and he quickly turned around to me, perfecting everything he could see wrong, the tiniest hair out of place, my sleeves at different lengths and pushing my cheeks into a smile. Facing forward just in time as the doors slid open and we stepped out into the masses.

Taglist:

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[khattikeri]

the thing about wei wuxian’s victims is that calling them wei wuxian’s victims in the first place is nebulous.

that isn't to say those who died or were bereaved after nightless city or the first siege of the burial mounds weren't hurt by wei wuxian’s retaliation. but calling them "wei wuxian’s victims" while ignoring that cultivation society scapegoated and hunted him down, and that wei wuxian never attacked without being threatened first, is a massive oversimplification.

sure we have minor characters like the cultivator who lost his leg or the cultivator who lost his parents, and sure mxtx writes them as part of a mob of more unreasonable people who were largely not even present for these events, but the thing is... there are major named characters who were present, or who had loved ones there, and their grief and pain are given full attention by the story. they're called jiang cheng and jin ling.

my sister/my mother died at nightless city because of you! except no, jiang yanli actually died because an entirely different nameless cultivator stabbed her, and she intentionally pushed wei wuxian out of the way to protect him out of sincere love. it wasn't the first time. she already demonstrated this when she stood up for him and called him her blood brother in front of her fiance and his family at an event they were hosting, when she had zero backing support and could've easily been dumped and had her marriageability ruined for speaking out of turn.

who's to say that jiang yanli's death wasn't the only instance of cultivators dying at nightless city from friendly fire during all the chaos? we don't know. the one thing we do know for certain is that once it was all over, the survivors attributed the (dubiously counted) thousands of casualties to wei wuxian alone.

saying that wei wuxian was the sole cause is overly convenient for cultivation society. in particular the major sects politically did not want to help the wen remnants and were content to mistreat them in forced labor camps. they thought that wei wuxian was too dangerous with his unique ghost path of cultivation and use of resentful energy, so they gathered everyone up and tried TWO different times to assassinate him. the first time just killing wei wuxian alone. the next time, taking all the remaining wens out with him.

there's a lot left unsaid about these major battles and sieges which leads to a lot of our discourse as fans to begin with-- we have such limited information about all these major events of the past! and unfortunately for us, that's the point!

that's the thesis of the book! the details of the pain and grief you go through don't actually matter! regardless of it, you have to eventually move on. you have to actively choose good, to do what you think is right for the sake of doing the right thing, and not just to act based on your idea of fulfilling debts or deserving to be repaid a certain way!

what everyone claims as indisputable facts about wei wuxian are actually skewed not only by rumors, but by politics. mxtx doesn't depict these various randos to give them a brief beat of sympathy. nor does she do it just to make wei wuxian look better.

they are there because they are also angry and bitter, stewing in the past looking for someone to keep blaming (wei wuxian; the cultivation world decided thirteen years ago it would be wei wuxian) and demanding recompense from him. jiang cheng does the same for the entire damn book.

jin ling breaks the cycle; in spite of the rocky start he eventually chooses to trust wei wuxian and argue on his behalf even in front of his elders. even though he's the heir to a major sect. even though he has been taught his entire life to despise and be angry at wei wuxian for orphaning him.

mdzs is a complex story. it also happens to be a black and white story without gray morality. there are many what-ifs, actions that went poorly or circumstances that would've shifted the course of events if only things had gone well for everyone, but nobody acts in a legitimately morally grey way.

throughout the novels there is a clear delineation between good and bad, righteous and wrong; wei wuxian is clearly the former in both cases not because mxtx wanted to more easily depict her protagonist as a good guy, but because she consistently bases these dichotomies upon the fulcrum of hypocrisy.

supporting the use of resentful energy via ghost cultivation to kill your political enemies in wartime and then immediately turning on the person doing so for you once the war is over, blaming all evils on him and trying to get him killed because he's trying to help the few survivors of the opposing side (both because it's the right thing to do and to pay back a life debt he secretly owes that only two or three people know about, oops)-- that is hypocrisy.

if wei wuxian does it and we like it, it's expected of him and he deserves no praise, though he handles it all with charm and stride befitting the son of the illustrious cangse-sanren.

if wei wuxian does it and we don't like it, he's a murderous evildoer, the ungrateful and dangerous son of a servant (whose name we conveniently never say even though we all know who wei changze was).

mdzs is a book about the hypocrisy of the upper class. mdzs is a book about grief. mdzs is a book about society and rumors and politics and the pitfalls of chasing after what you are "owed". mdzs is a book about love and sticking to your own path and principles. wei wuxian is its protagonist, and by the novel's own values, he is indisputably good.

[xotaemintol]

BRATTY SWITCH!TAEMIN x BLACK FEM READER: SLAVE FOR YOU

“Baby, I'm a slave, baby I'm a slave for you.”

TWS: switch!idol, sub to slightly dom Taemin, dom reader, mommy kink, teasing, begging, hair pulling, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, grinding/dry humping, slightly bratty Taemin, pet names:(naughty kitty, kitten, good boy, pretty boy), dumbification, and praise.

PRONOUNS USED: None/fem implied (mommy/ma’am used)

WORD COUNT: 3486

Be warned, this might be slightly messy lol, I got sleepy while writing but wanted to post something a little longer for subby September, I would've continued it tomorrow but I would've lost the flow, so hopefully my sleepiness doesn't show lol, but enjoy, I'll end up editing it again (I did edit it once already) in the morning.

Taemin’s whole body feels hot to the touch, the slightest movement and he feels like he’d burst into flames from desire, losing his mind to lust he looks into your eyes, pouting as the submission takes over, there’s no more room to hide it or deny it, he needs you and he needs you now,

“Please, can I feel you?” He asked in a shaky and breathy voice, sounding unsure of himself since he knew himself that he had misbehaved enough to be told no and then some, but still, he can’t help but hope that you’ll go easy on him as he looked into your shiny eyes, your body on top of him felt so warm that he felt like he might explode from just the pressure of you, the way your eyes stare into his with that same amount of desire and sexual energy tells him that you want him too, but that telling grin on your pretty lips tell him that he won’t get anything that easily. As you look at him with a sense of faux sympathy and a teasing pout, you wrap your arms around his neck loosely and press your hips into him a little more, knowing how sensitive he must be by now. “Oh really?” You ask in a slightly condescending tone, keeping that same playful expression as you slowly rock your hips.

“How bad do you need me kitty?” His breath hitches and his body shivers from your teasing, your lips and body are addicting, just from looking at them and feeling you so close to him he was desperately trying to figure out how to get what he wanted without begging too much, “This is driving me insane”, He says in a small voice filled with pleas and desperation “Don’t torture me like this, please.” Taemin's simple request was left unfilled though and of course, it would be, Why would you let up on him so soon? That bulge in his underwear, soaked by your wetness and his precum isn’t enough to show just how badly he wanted you, no, it wasn’t nearly enough, you need him begging and crying with no shame, declaring loudly his selfish cravings for your body as if not a soul would ever hear it.

You playfully giggle as the sound of crackling thunder rings through the dimly lit apartment, the sound of the rain hitting the large windows makes the atmosphere all the more pleasant and intense, the glass of wine on the table half full with both your glasses empty and knocked over along with another that you had drank just before, nights like these, long, rainy, and dark with just Taemin by your side as he shows you just how badly he wants you always fills a certain part in you that has always been left empty by everyone else. “You think you deserve to be rewarded after behaving like a brat for so long?” You ask, you grin and gently tilt his head up to you, you look into his shiny doe eyes as they fill with desperation before leaning in as if you’ll kiss him and stopping, swiftly you lean close to his ear, softly whispering with your hands on his shoulders and your hips still against his: “Don’t get ahead of yourself, you’ve been a naughty kitty, Taemin, and a naughty kitty should be punished.”

His whole body convulses, and you can feel a soft throb underneath you as he whines, his whole body responds to your words, making him shiver and lose control, his mind going from sane to crazed by the instant “Please!” He whines, his face heating as he tries to control his breathing, still not wanting to beg to avoid embarrassment Taemin tries to find the words to say, but he can’t help it, he wants you to take control, for you to punish him for his misdeeds and make him your toy. He pouts and looks away as his body shivers in pleasure with the subtle and slight movement of your hips as you ask: “Please what?”, “Give me what I want” He answers in a slightly confident, yet submissive voice, There’s something about the way the rain hits the window and how this would be added to the moments he’d never forget that make him unable to control his urges anymore.

“And why should I?” You ask, your fingers trailing down his exposed chest, the buttons of his polka-dotted pajama shirt scattered across the cold floor and hanging by a thread to the soft material. “If you want it, you should prove it.” He looks up and takes in that mischievous smile on your pretty face, the way your lips curl so beautifully and how your brown skin is illuminated by the occasional thunder and the soft candle lights makes him want to scream, butterflies swarm his stomach as he whines and pouts, “I don’t want this to turn into a game, can’t you just see how bad I want you?” He asks as he grabs your hand and softly kisses it, his eyes close as his lips linger on the back of your hand, savoring the feeling of your skin against his even if it’s hardly anything, he lets out a small groan as his eyes roll back, once again, you rock your hips, ruthlessly teasing him as he tries his best to plead his case.

“It feels like I need you to survive,” He says, his voice cracks as he speaks, the waver in his voice as he swallows the saliva in his mouth to cure the dryness in his throat makes you throb on top of him, his cheeks flushed down to his neck and his eyebrows knot together as he places your hand on his chest and licks his plump, kiss swollen lips. “Please, don’t torture me like this, I learned my lesson.” You couldn’t deny yourself anymore, taking great pleasure in the way he expresses his thirst makes you feel that same undeniable heat, you don’t know how long you can go on like this. Suddenly the feeling of his underwear acting as a barrier between the two of you is agitating, every part of you wants to rip it off and feel him inside of you, sliding into you so sweetly that you could cry, You don’t see the point in making him beg any longer, not when it’s making you ache so badly too. So you quickly instruct him to take them off, leaving him completely naked on the soft sofa as you hover above his completely erect dick and kiss him.

Soft moans of satisfaction leave his mouth as he wraps his arms around your waist, he knows better than to lead you any further though, so he lets you take the lead, moaning softly as you slip your tongue past his thick lips and into his mouth, his body tensed as he awaits the feeling of your warmth around him, anticipating the sound you may make or how wet you’ll feel, how soft your walls will be and how hard it’ll be for him not to break at the slightest touch. You pull away, looking him in his eyes as you both pant like you had run a mile non-stop, he knows that look all too well, the look on your face when you want to keep control but feel just as needy as him when you want to punish him but feel too lost in your lust to keep up with what had gotten you in this position to begin with.

“I can’t wait anymore,” You say softly, he could swear right now that he’d evaporate into nothingness if you took even a second longer, “Please use me ma’am…make me your toy and please yourself.” You curse under your breath and bite your lip as you carefully line him up with your entrance, the feeling of his dick bumping against your cunt made you gasp softly, while you are still mostly fine, Taemin can’t help but cry weakly and roll his eyes back. “Fuck, you’re so…pretty,” You mutter, slowly you lower yourself onto him, even the head of him sliding into you with ease makes you struggle to breathe. You both jolt forward and gasp for air, your oversexed bodies feel sensitive to the touch, and going so slowly was only making it worse. “Oh god!” Taemin exclaimed as a burst of pleasure hit him, you want to degrade him or maybe poke at him for feeling so good from just the tip being inside but you are no different, gripping his shoulder as you bite your lip and slowly pace yourself.

Although you can take him, it feels too good to rush, wanting nothing more than to take it slow you pause for a second and kiss him again. You can feel yourself becoming wetter as you kiss him, the feeling much more immoral as your walls just barely clench around him, the moment he feels your wetness slowly dripping down his shaft he can’t take it anymore, lost in pure and unfiltered thirst he grabs your hips and begins to pull you down more. You break away, gasping as his length slides against your walls, already Your back begins to arch as your toes curl and your nails dig into his skin. As badly as you want to stop him, you feel too good to interfere just yet, so you allow him to guide you until he’s inside of you, nuzzled inside of you as he fills you up so beautifully, making you feel so full that you start to feel like you might shatter into a million pieces.

“F….Fuck…Oh my…” You stop as your body shivers, intense pleasure taking over as you sit on top of him and listen to his sweet cries, the way he grips your hips as if you’d fall apart gives you butterflies. “I’m so sorry…I’m sorry ma’am…I…I needed you so bad…I-“ He stops, a sinful whimper cutting through his words as he tries to speak, but it’s not like his words can save him anyways, despite your pleasured state you pull a wickedly sexual grin and grab his face gently, “You…aren’t sorry,” You say in between deep labored breaths, before you can even get anything else out you are overwhelmed with a urge to have him with no more delays, with not another word spoke you begin to slowly rock your hips back and forth. With even the slightest movement you are both sent spiraling into a pleasure that can only be described as heaven-sent, the way he presses so beautifully against your walls, how you convulse around him and the way your voices mingle together perfectly makes you both feel crazed with lust.

Neither of you want to stop and as you go faster and begin to bring yourself up and down all you can manage is broken praises, telling him how good he feels as you pick up the pace and bounce up and down on him, your skin slamming together as the sound of rain, thunder, and desperation mash together. Taemin can just barely stabilize his voice enough to thank you, crying out as his voice cracks and trembles, he can’t begin to form a sentence if he tried, and feeling you become so wet that it soaks his thighs only makes it harder for him to think. Truly falling victim to the drug that is lust you cling to him and start to move faster, Every time you move your hips he brings his towards yours, thrusting up into you as if he couldn’t bear a second without being inside of you.

“M-Mommy!” He cries out, “Oh fuck! You feel so good! Mommy! Please!” You groan and crumble against him as his voice hits a spot that makes you feel weak, your brain can hardly keep up with the different sensations, your mind goes completely blank as you become just as mindless as him and messily ride him. “Good! So good!” You scream out as your nails drag up his back, and your eyes roll back as he starts to thrust harder and holds your hips tighter, still sounding just as weak and submissive as before. “Am I doing a good job mommy?” He asks in a dangerously sexual and wicked tone, the way his eyebrows knot together with a pretty pout on his lips makes your whole body feel throb, “Am I fucking you how you like?” You almost cry as he bites his lip and looks you in your eyes, somehow that submission in his eyes is as strong as ever, even with his words being slightly more vulgar and aggressive, you know he’s only yearning for your sweet approval.

So you nod your empty head and roll your eyes back muttering: “G-Good…so good…” You lean your head against his shoulder and moan against his sweaty skin, biting down on his shoulder as he whines in your ear. “Let me take care of you, please ma’am, please let me be a good boy for you and make you cum,” Finding it impossible to deny him; and unreasonable to say no, you nod your head once again. You first expect him to go faster and slip his hand between your bodies to stimulate your clit, but your expectations are quickly derailed as he leads you to lay back on the sofa and gets between your legs. You aren’t going to tell him to stop though, you’d be crazy to turn him down when all he wants is to please you and make up for being such a brat, so as he begins to slowly eat you out you only encourage him. Your back arches as you sob softly and put your hand in his hair, pulling it as you roll your hips against his face just how he likes.

“F-Fuck! You’re doing so good baby, just like that,” You say with your eyes shut tightly, “Such…fuck…s-such a good boy! M-Mommy’s pretty boy!” Chills from all over your body, from head to toe You get an incredibly strong feeling of passionate lust that makes it impossible to think. Taemin’s mouth latches to you with his soft lips acting as pillows, his tongue massaging slow circles on your clit as his fingers stimulate it from the inside, pressure builds in your stomach as it tightens and your body begins to feel tense. His tongue feels like heaven and he shows no signs of stopping as he closes his eyes and reaches up with his other hand, rolling your nipple between his finger and thumb to add to the mind splitting pleasure. “Taemin! Oh fuck! I…shit!” You stop as you begin to pant and squirm under his touch, so close to the edge that you begin to tremble and your breathes become short and shorter, a white fog fills your mind as you pull his hair even harder and arch your back deeper with your toes curled so much that they might rip through the sofa.

“G-Good boy! Keep going! So close! So close! Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Taemin!” You scream out in chants as the feeling starts to overflow, his mouth feels too good for you to hold on any longer, and as soon as he started, you were already finished, but he doesn’t stop when you reach that peak, your walls flutter around his two fingers, and just like he expected you begin to gush just a little against his chest as he brings his body up and starts to fuck you with just his fingers. You can’t hold it in, you need him inside of you again and you need it now. “F-Fuck me, now.” That is all you have to say, he won’t deny you and he won’t waste another second, Taemin is quick to fulfill your needs and do whatever it takes to please you. As he slowly enters you again you both feel like you are ripping at the seams, The moment he bottomed out inside of you he tried to control himself but he was far too gone. “Do you want me to go slow ma’am?” He asks, already moving he doesn’t realize that you can hardly speak, but you don’t have to, he knows what you want because he wants it too.

Taemin grabs your legs and pushes them back, with your body folded he begins to slowly fuck you, although he moves at a slow pace his every stroke is aggressive and hard, yet so precise, he slams into you with so much force that it knocks the air out of your lungs with every movement and leaves you both screaming out to the heavens above. The sound of the rain is drowned out by Taemin’s voice begging for you, he trembles above you as beads of sweat drip down from his forehead to his chin and fall onto you, he feels so good, so pleased and grateful for you being too lenient that he starts to forget himself and with no shame calls out your name as he goes faster, an intense wave of chills rush up his spine and he hunches over as he grips the back of your knees tightly, his nails; just as yours did him, dig into your skin and his stomach muscles tighten. You can feel him pulsing inside of you, every movement is another kiss to the thousands of nerve endings that allow you to feel this good.

“Ma’am, Ma’am, I’m gonna cum…I-I I’m gonna cum!” He tries to warn you as he continues that same fast pace but you don’t respond, and when he looks at your face he sees why, your eyes are rolled back and your mouth is slightly open but no sound comes out, only short bursts of struggles for air as you slap your hand against the armrest, “Oh mommy, did…fuck…oh my god…” Taemin rolls his eyes and drops your legs to kiss you before whispering in a kitten-like voice, “Did I fuck you dumb?” You finally let out a soft moan, long and drawn out as you wrap your arms around him and hold him closely, knowing that this power switch won’t last long or end well for him Taemin kisses you again, “I’m…I’m sorry ma’am, I’ll behave next time,” he whimpers out, “I’ll be a good boy…I’ll be a good toy.” As his words come out even more rushed he once again warns you that he’s about to cum, and just like before, you don’t respond, you only weakly pull him closer to kiss him and mumble against his lips. “Good boy, good boy, my good boy, such a good boy.”

The feeling of a white wave of pleasure comes crashing down on him, chills cascade across his skin and he can hardly keep his body upright, his breathing is uneven and he feels tingles spread all over from his head to toes. Before he can stop himself or pull out, he melts inside of you, spilling his love deep inside your walls as he whimpers and holds onto you tightly.

“Fuck! Oh god! You feel…f-fuck!” As his climax hits him at a pace too fast and intense to keep up with, his perfect strokes become slightly sloppy yet deeper. Allowing that feeling to take over as he calls out your name and pouts, his eyebrows knot together and his voice becomes weaker and softer, “Y-You…feel so good” He says in a submissive voice, before the feeling can completely die down he leans back and pulls you on top of him, letting you fall onto him and lay against his chest as you both pant and try to recollect yourselves, your bodies buzz with delight as you silently lay together, allowing your bodies to become one in a more wholesome way for just a moment. Neither of you speak as you listen to the sound of the rain and thunder, and each other's breathing, you don’t say anything until you start to feel yourself dozing off, laughing as you catch yourself and open your eyes.

“You know, this doesn’t count as me punishing you,” Taemin smiles a little and pouts, as you look at him you smile at the sight of his eyes closed and a satisfied look on your face, “can’t you let me off the hook just this once?” He asks, “I promise that I’ll behave tomorrow…” You sigh happily and brush the hair that sticks his sweaty forehead away before kissing him lovingly, for a second you say nothing, just enjoying the feeling of each other for a little longer as you calm down. “Are we sleeping on the couch?” You ask, “If we are, we should at least get a blanket…what if someone sees us?” Taemin yawns and shrugs as he rolls over on his side, forcing you to turn over with him, leaving you trapped between his chest and the couch. “Let them, it’ll be their fault for walking in without a warning.”

[larsisfrommars]

The Light Won’t Die

Halsin x Tav

Rating: E for Everyone

Chapter: 1/??? (Next Chapter ->)

Word Count: 732

Genre: Adventure, Hurt/Comfort

Content: Halsin x Male!Tav, Fighter!Tav, The Blood of Lathander the goodest weapon, Act 2, The Shadow Curse, Halsin has unresolved PTSD and not enough people talk about it, Tadpole anxiety.

“Tav was haunted by the gnawing desire to pry into the Druid’s thoughts. He wasn’t sure whether that desire belonged to him, or to the mindflayer tadpole burrowing in his skull.”

———————✨🌿✨———————

The events at Crèche Y’llek had been harrowing to say the least. The return to camp was arduous, spells depleted, muscles aching. But the rewards had been undeniable.

Tav twirled his new mace in his hands “The Blood of Lathander” the beastie was called. Tav was not a holy man, but he’d be a fool to reject the aid of the divine. Especially one so tied to the daylight as Lathander when they approached a place so dangerously opposed to it.

It glowed with the warmth of day even as the sun sank behind the mountains for one last evening. With its sinking Tav’s stomach followed suit, he was not afraid of the dark. Did not fret even that the shadow curse would get the better of his ever mightier band of misfits.

But he would miss the sun.

Tav’s heart twinged knowing he was not the only one who’d be denied this simple pleasure. Who’d been denied it before for far longer than he would have to endure, he realized a bit shamefully. Yet he found they were not the ones he felt the most concern over.

Tav felt a large hand on his shoulder, to whom it belonged was unmistakable. As though his thoughts had summoned the Archdruid to his side. He looked up at the elf before they both turned their gaze to Tav’s prize once more.

“A fine weapon, you were wise to seek it out before approaching this place. The land now crawls with undead, all that’s left of those who could not escape.”

Halsin’s gaze turned toward the gnarled path ahead of them warily. The edges of the curse already made themselves known in a trail of dead animals and gnarled, diseased looking tree trunks. That alone Tav was sure would be enough to burden any Druid’s heart. Though based on what Halsin had told them so far, Tav had a gnawing sense there was more to it than that.

“How did you? Escape I mean.”

Halsin’s breath caught and grip on Tav’s shoulder squeezed somewhat before departing from it. He’d surprised him. Wherever Halsin’s mind had gone, it was no where pleasant.

“Apologies, I was… lost in thought. Perhaps that is a story for another time. Better to prepare for the spring than to dwell upon the strain of the winter.” He cracked smile that neither of them believed as he tried to move on to other matters.

“Anything more you could tell us would be helpful, if it comes down to it…“ the looming possibility of failing hung unspoken in Tav’s words.

“If things turn for the worse, then I shall tell you. I have spent a great deal of my long life seeking a way to end this curse. I don’t think it behooves us to speak of failure before we’ve even begun.” Halsin replied in earnest.

The normally affable Druid had a slight edge of desperation to his voice that bid Tav turn away from this line questioning. So he bit his tongue for the time being.

“Of course, sorry. I almost forgot that not all of us are heading to this place due to unwelcome guests. I’m sure lifting this curse means a lot to you.” Tav responded, sympathy seeping into his final words.

“Yes, it does.”

With that, Halsin walked away. Leaving Tav with a further steeled resolve, and a leaden ball of apprehension in his heart.

Though the camp chattered in its usual manner, nervousness, curiosity, and from their Cleric an unusual level of excitement. Tav felt disconnected from them all, save for the large elf across from him.

Though no words were exchanged, a mutual understanding of the gravity of what they must do hung between them. Halsin it would seem taking the majority of the weight, given his stony expression. The usual warmth in his eyes dampened, but not altogether smothered, to Tav’s comfort.

It was peculiar, considering that if they chose to, the party could read one another’s thoughts, save for Halsin. Perhaps it was the notion of forbidden fruit. Tav was haunted by the gnawing desire to pry into the Druid’s thoughts. He wasn’t sure whether that desire belonged to him, or to the mindflayer tadpole burrowing in his skull.

That worried him more than anything than he had heard shadow curse may throw at them. He resolved to respect the Druid’s privacy. No matter how much he wished to know what motivations lie behind his abdication and plunging into danger. No matter how concerned he felt for the Druid’s wellbeing. Even though it would be oh so very easy to enter his mind.

No, Halsin would come to Tav freely, or not at all.

[flatoutin-eaurouge]

Don't leave me alone in this cruel world. Part 1/2

Pairing: Mika Häkkinen x Michael Schumacher

A week ago a lovely anon 🫶 entered my askbox with a heart-breaking and very angsty prompt. Thank heavens, I was allowed to write a happy ending! I wanted to do this prompt justice so I decided to write it in two parts...

Amid the revelry at the afterparty of the FIA ​​Price Giving Gala of 2001, two rivals sat down for a chat in a quiet corner of the huge ballroom. Michael had perched himself on one of the lounge chairs, his shiny trophy proudly sitting next to him on a side table. This evening he was at the center of attention, but he gladly made time for his favourite rival.

Mika stared at the World Champion of 2001 sitting opposite to him and smiled. Michael was well on his way to become the greatest legend of the sport, if he wasn't already. Four championships and counting. He slapped the German on the thigh. "You're making it very difficult for me to catch up!"

Michael laughed, his lips quirking up in a warm, genuine smile. He grabbed Mika's hand and gave it a little squeeze. "I miss our battles, Mika! I miss fighting tooth and nail for championship points and I miss deciding a championship on the last race day."

Mika threw Michael a rueful smile and tilted his tumbler of Scotch, staring at the amber liquid inside the glass. "I've lost my spark, Michael. I don't know what it is, but DC seems to have surpassed me in terms of speed."

"That's nonsense, Mika!" Michael placed his own tumbler of Scotch on the salon table and spread his hands in front of the Finn, as if he was trying to make a point. "Your car is incredibly unreliable! It creates a distorted picture of the championship table. Remember Spain?"

"Of course I remember Spain. You were very sympathetic to me. I remember that!"

Michael nodded. "You know, I just feel a certain way towards you. Our battles were always fair and I appreciate you as a rival. Villeneuve and Hill wouldn't have deserved that kind of sympathy from me."

Mika chuckled. He studied the face of Der Kaiser and noticed the glimmer in his eyes. "Always fair? From your side as well?" he teased.

The German took Mika's comment in good humor, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Okay, Macau 1990 is debatable... but other than that?"

Mika winked at his rival. "All good."

Michael threw Mika a beaming smile and realized that their connection was really special. He would have never expected to feel genuine admiration for a fellow driver. But Mika and him had a long history. He could still remember the day they met. It was on a rainy day in Kerpen, Manheim. They were both lanky teenagers with questionable haircuts in cheap racing attire. They were always a bit distrustful towards each other, which was logical because they both still had a long way to go to get to F1. Over the course of years, they had grown into handsome adults and their interactions had grown more mature.

"Hey Michael." Mika snapped his fingers to pull Michael from his daydream. "I want to know your opinion on something."

"Oh sorry. I was fading a bit. I don't think you need my advice, but please go ahead."

Mika looked around nervously, making sure no one was in hearing distance and leaned a bit forward in his chair. "I am thinking about quitting," he whispered.

What?! Michael froze in position and blinked with his eyes. The ease and the swiftness in which Mika spoke these words startled him. It caught him by surprise completely. If he was drinking his whiskey right now, he would've probably spit it all out on the neatly ironed slacks of the Finn. "You say what?!"

"Sshhh." Mika pressed a finger to his lips. "Not so loud. Only Ron knows about it."

"Mika, you can't quit!"

"Michael, lower your voice, goddamnit!" Mika hissed. "There is too much press here!"

"Sorry!" Michael now whispered. "What did Ron say? I don't think he is happy?"

"Ron, told me to think about it very thoroughly. He is willing to give me a year off, like some sort of sabbatical for next season. So my decision won't be too definitive."

"Why would you want to quit though?"

Mika sighed as he downed his glass of Scotch. "I don't want to risk my life anymore with that unreliable car. I've had my shunt in 1995 at a time my journey wasn't complete, so I decided to return to racing as soon as my condition allowed it. But now... I have two world championships and Erja is at home taking care of my first born. I don't want Hugo to grow up without a father."

Michael swallowed as he stared at Mika intently. How could he forget? His rival had almost died that year. He rembered how upset he was. Even during his championship celebrations he spared a thought for his unfortunate childhood rival. "Your 1995 crash..."

Mika nodded. "Yeah, I don't want to relive that all over again! Especially not now I have a little family."

There fell a silence between them.

Michael stared at the floor and tried to smooth out the creases in his slacks. It was six years ago. So many things had changed. The FIA had obliged drivers to wear a HANS-device.

"Mika... would you consider driving for one more season? Just to see if Newey can make your car more reliable? To wipe the floor with David and battle against me?"

Mika bit his lip and thought for a moment. The images of his near-fatal crash flooded his mind "I don't know, Michael. At least two of my big crashes were because of a failing tyre suspension."

"You know how much the safety has improved since your crash in 1995!" Michael was shocked by his own words. Why did he make it seem like Mika's crash back then was no big deal?! Was he too selfish asking Mika to stay?

Mika quirked up an eyebrow. "What difference does one more season make, though? Do you really think this year will be different?"

"Mika, you're talented and fast! You deserve another world championship! Maybe you win 2002 and we will be sitting at the FIA Gala like we are now, staring at your shiny trophy."

Mika nodded. He didn't seem convinced but the twinkle in his eyes told a different story. "I will think about it."

Melbourne March 3 2002, Albert Park

There he was! Like nothing had changed. Michael let his eyes roam over the silver-white McLaren race suit. The garment hugging Mika's slender waist and making his shoulders look extra broad. It was the outfit he loved most on him, despite the garment wearing the badge of the arch rival.

Mika had grown his hair out again as if his renewed race spirit had begged him to go back to the good old times, where Michael and him had to fight for every championship point.

Michael watched as Mika's hand carded through that mop of thick blonde hair, making its golden layers cascade in the sunlight. It was really just like the old times!

The Finn walked past Michael and winked at him, as if he wanted to say: See! I listened to you! Here I am! Now make it memorable!

Michael felt a source of warmth send sparks through his body. The corners of his lips curled up in a genuine smile. He craved for the good old times! He craved for a season like 2000.

Yesterday, Mika had managed to qualify his McLaren MP4/17 on the first row next to Michael, proving that he had lost none of his spark.

"Now we will have to see if the car doesn't fall apart during the race. I have some bad memories from last season," Mika had said during the press conference.

Michael remembered that he had told Mika at the FIA Gala that he was convinced Adrian Newey would make it work. That man was genius! A genius that Ferrari would love to fit into their team.

But Newey was a McLaren guy just like his favourite rival, who was getting into his car right now. Michael watched as Mika put his blue and white helmet on and felt the heat from the core of his body travel to his cheeks when he noticed that Mika was smiling at him. He reveled in the Finn's cheeky twinkle. Gosh. Michael wanted to thank the heavens Mika qualified first row with him.

He sat down in his own car as all mechanics were ushered to leave the grid for the starting procedure. Michael flipped his visor down. He had an inkling he would be going to enjoy this race, driving wheel to wheel with his Mika.

With the formation lap done, Michael focused on the red lights flashing on one by one and engaged his throttle. Lights off...

The joy of a perfect start... Mika knew he was an excellent starter, but bringing the wheelspin to a minimum and flooring his pedal at just the right time sent a wave of serotin through his body. Could he miss this feeling? Was it the right decision to continue after all?

Michael saw him disappear into the horizon and he could feel the broad grin that tugged at the corners of his lips almost instantly.Yes! Let's go!

Mika's leap to the front lasted for a full fourteen laps before Michael saw the Finn's car gradually growing more prominent into his vision. That black, white and silver... not the black, white and silver of David Coulthard, but the right black, white and silver.

He grabbed the steering in a white-knuckled grip and almost jammed the throttle into the floor of his car. His engine roared. The chase had started...

He followed Mika, copied his racing line and tried to optimize it Schumi-style. It worked. He was swiftly approaching his rival.

Until a radio call stopped him from engaging in a battle with the Finn.

"Box, Box Michael. We're going for an undercut."

"Give me one more lap, please!"

"Negative."

Michael shook his head in annoyance. He craved for a wild, primal battle with that blonde stud. Maybe if he drove a little more on the limit he could get Mika before the pit entry!

He bit his lip and pressed down. The RPM reaching the limiter.

"Michael, what are you doing? Cool the engine!"

Michael could see the large back wing reading Mika's name on it only 1,5 second in front of him. A feeling of sudden happiness spread through his body. He was close...so close...

Until...

The entire tyre suspension on the front of Mika's car tore off, leaving debris all across the track. It sent the car into a wild spin. A spin at a speed of 300 km/h. Michael gasped as his eyes tracked the sudden movement. What the hell?! This can't be real!

The tyres of the black car scraped on the tarmac. Sparks jumped off of the broken metal of the tyre suspension. A large sausage curb sent Mika's car flying into the gravel trap with a heart-stopping speed.

Michael began to slow down in an instant and watched the silver McLaren crash into the barrier surrounding the track with a loud bang. His heart rate went up. It all went quiet for a moment as the agressive roars of Michael's engine starten to lessen. He steered his car onto the grass without hesitation.

Michael stopped his car and jumped out of it. My God, Mika! He beelined through the gravel trap all the way to the steaming wreckage. The race would probably be redflagged anyway... and even if it didn't... who cares! Mika was inside that wreckage. The man who didn't want to risk his life anymore. The man who wanted to see his firstborn grow up. The man he asked... no begged... to continue racing regardless!

Michael rushed to the cockpit of the car, his rapidly beating heart banging against his rib cage, afraid for what he would encounter.

He gasped in horror when he saw Mika's seemingly lifeless body hanging over the steering wheel. Michael didn't hesitate. He took Mika's helmet off to make sure he could breath freely, then gently pushed his body to lean back against the headrest. Oh Christ!

The Finn's balaclava was damp and dark red and his eyes were closed. No, Mika! Michael tugged at the drenched cotton, wincing at the warm and moist feel of it, then gently pulled the thing off.

Mein Gott! Like his balaclava, half of Mika's face was coated in blood. It streamed in waves of red from his nose and mouth, pooling in the collar of his race suit until it seeped down from underneath the velcro of his collar. It contrasted brutally with the silver-white of the McLaren overalls.

It was only five minutes that Michael was alone with Mika, but it felt like hours...

The tears streamed uncontrollably down Michael's cheeks. To watch the life literally pour out off his beloved rival broke his already aching heart beyond repair. This was his fault! He did this!

He gently caressed Mika's face and wiped the blonde hairs sticking to the blood on his face to the side. I'm sorry I did this to you! Michael's hands were shaking as he unclasped the Finn's safety belts and clutched his limp body to his chest. This should not have happened.

Even if this crash was like Adelaide '95 – meaning that Mika would recover... – it also meant he would have to go through all of that again! The pain, the anxiety, the loneliness and the boredom.

Michael held him as he cried bitter tears of emotion. He tried to cuddle the Finn's body to his chest and murmered encouraging words into Mika's ear. Stay with me, please! Please, Mika!

In the remaing minutes, Michael zipped the Finn's race suit open, looking for wounds that needed to be staunched. Where does all that blood come from!? Michael's hand ghosted over Mika's fireproofs, feeling for red, damp spots... until his fingers touched something cold and hard. He gasped loudly and tugged the sturdy textile of the race suit further open to see for himself how a long piece of debris from the car had impaled Mika's side. The steel rot stuck out from between his ribs. A dark red spot betrayed the severity of the wound.

Michael retrieved his hand and stared at his red, treacly fingers in terror. He shuddered all over. Bitte, helf mir mal! Jemand! His hands went down again, inside Mika's unzipped race suit. He grabbed the textile of the fireproofs surrounding the wound and pressed down to staunch the bleeding. Stop fucking bleeding!

He cried in frustration. His breathing hitched in his throat. Hot tears made his vision blur. Michael was in a shock. The guilt taking over his mind made him shiver in pure agony. This was his fault!

Closing his eyes and fearing for the worst he felt for Mika's pulse. Contrary to what he expected, the Finn's heart was racing, which meant he was still alive, but Michael knew the organ was fighting against the enormous loss of blood. Trying to dry the ocean with a thimble! Where were the goddamn medics?! Five minutes already!!!

And although those five minutes alone with Mika meant the world to him, he cursed those five minutes as well, because it all took too long. The life was literally pouring out of his rival.

Michael started to fear that this crash was nothing like Adelaide '95.

He held Mika's face in his hands, gently pressing a kiss to the Finn's temple. You are the most respected rival I've ever had! Don't go! Please don't go! He stared at the Finn's pale face, his colourless lips and his closed eyes. His expression was calm and serene like that of an angel, but his face was hellish red. Will you ever forgive me?

Michael watched apathetically as the medics pushed him aside to take over from him. He barely listened to the medic scolding him for removing Mika's helmet without stabilizing his neck first. All he could think of was his Mika, suffocating in waves of blood.

Michael was gently but firmly lead away from the scene of the crash, while he barely registered what was going on. They pushed him into a safety car and drove him back to the paddock.

He stared with tears in his eyes at the red flags that were being waved along the track. He sighed and closed his eyes. Why the hell did this happen? How could he ever live with himself?!

When he arrived at the paddock, Michael wiped his forehead and immediately realised that the blood he was smearing all over his skin with the action, was the blood of Mika.

Michael let out a heart wrenching sob and sagged down against a wall. He covered his face in his hands and didn't look up when people put a hand on his shoulder and spoke to him. He didn't dare to look at the tv screens inside the Ferrari garage that broadcasted the actions of the medics. He was in a world of his own. Praying he could reverse time...

[fanfic-compass]

~Doubt~

George Weasley X Fem!Reader

Summary: Since the birth of their twin kids, George and y/n's love life has been dead. Both worry that the other doesn't finf them attractive anymore.

Note: Sorry for any spelling mistakes

The last three months have been exhausting for y/n and her husband George but also so fulfilling. Y/n has given birth to their twin sons Anthony and Alastor. Redheads, of course,just like their father. Their nights were filled with crying babies, dirty diapers and a lack of sleep but they absolutely loved their children and they would do anything for them.

It's been little over a year after the Battle of Hogwarts where everyone lost friends, family members and loved ones. But now they were a real family and everything was perfect. Well, almost everything.

The love life of y/n and George was practically dead. Y/n knew that it was normal not to have sex the forst werks after giving birth but still George never even made a single move to change that now and it started to worry the young mother.

She was scared that he didn’t find her attractive anymore. She gained weight and got stretch marks which was actually normal during a pregnancy but she still believed that George didn’t like her appearance anymore.

What she didn't know was that George was struggling with himself too. And naturally he came to his best friend and twin brother Fred to talk to him about his own problem.

“I tell you, it’s been so long since we had sex…” He explained, worried.

Fred sighed. “Is this about you gaining weight again? I told you it’s sympathy weight. Nothing unusual for a guy”

“I know… but still. First I lost my ear and now I gained weight… I can't even believe she is still with me. She's crazy, there is no other explanation.”

George tried to sound funny as always but deep down he was still worried.

“Maybe we should make a potion to lose weight. We could make a lot of money with it… and I could test it on myself.”

Suddenly there was a knock on the door and y/n entered. She gave George a quick kiss, this was the only physical touch they shared, apart from loosely cuddling at night.

“The kids are asleep right now…” She told him.

Actually she came to talk to Fred but with George in the same room, she couldn’t. So they sat for a while in an awkward silence until one of the babies started crying. George stood up and walked out of the room to take care of it.

“So Freddie… I need your advice” Y/n started quickly. “I… have a little problem right now… about George…”

Fred could already guess what it was.

“Well… I think that George doesnt find me attractive anymore.”

“And why do you think that?” Fred was curious.

“Because… i gained weight during the pregnancy, i got stretchmarks and… and since the kids were born we never… got a little… closer than just a simple kiss.”

Fred laughed. For him it was like one of those comedy shows on the muggle tv that y/n once showed him. But she didn’t find it funny at all.

“Perhaps you could talk to your husband?”

“But what if he tells me that he really doesnt find me attractive anymore? What if he only stays because of the kids?”

“Come on, y/n. He has always been crazy for you. Ever since we were kids. I have an idea. How about you two go on a date tonight?”

“And the kids?”

“I will take care of them. They love their uncle Freddie. After all, I have never met someone who didn't like me.”

“Uh… Umbridge?”

“The evil toad doesn’t count. But seriously, tonight you're gonna go on a date.”

Y/n sighed but agreed. In the evening she and George were eating at a romantic restaurant and they finally had time for themselves again. They talked about things that they haven’t talked about in a long time and it felt refreshing to be together again. After their date they got back home. Fred put a note on the door, saying that the kids were in his room and that he would take care of them in the night. Then he put a little smirking smiley at the end of the note.

George and y/n went to their bedroom and got ready for bed. George sat on the bed and y/n came in with a beautiful set of lingerie on. She sat next to her husband and caressed his thigh. He, however, backed away.

“Georgie… we need to talk.” Y/n said in a serious tone.

“Yes, i think we need to talk…” George agreed.

“Do you still find me attractive?” Y/n bursted out.

“Of course. You are the sexiest woman ever.”

“Then why do you seem so uncomfortable with me touching you?”

“Because…” George sighed. “Because I am not attractive enough anymore. During your pregnancy I gained weight. And on top of that I’m still missing my ear… I just don’t want you to be repulsed by me…”

“Darling… I love you. I could never be repulsed by you. You are so sexy and handsome and attractive and… I just wish we would… have sex again. I miss the feeling.” Y/n took his hand and sat a little closer. “I just thought with my stretchmarks and my weight that you were repulsed by me.”

“You’re crazy. I love you. You are so sexy… and you look like you do because you carried our children. That’s the most beautiful thing in the world.”

“So can we… maybe… tonight…”

George cut his wife off by pressing his lips against hers in a passionate kiss. They kept kissing for so long and after a while he lifted her up and sat her down on his lap where they kept making out and caressing each other like they haven't done in so long. And with that they reignited the fire that burned so low after the past months. And oh, how they needed that.

[themessedupsonata]

A Little Favour

Edmund Pevensie x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friend Edmund (aka the love of your life) asks you to help him invite his crush on a date.

word count: 2.6 k

warnings: none ig. Slight angst but most fluff and a slight mention of sex but not really

A/N: I pictured this story happening post WW2, but I made no references to the 40s so it can be read as a modern au

“I have for the first time found what I can truly love–I have found you. You are my sympathy–my better self–my good angel–I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life...” 

Edward Rochester's speech was rudely interrupted by some inconvenient person who was knocking at your door. You rolled your eyes and mumbled a "come in" loud enough so whoever was on the other side of the door could hear you.

Edmund Pevensie's head popped through the small space of the half-opened door and you completely forgot why you were angry in the first place. 

"Hi Y/N/N. Can we talk?" He smiled nervously.

You nodded and he sat down on the small couch that was in front of your bed so you could look at each other comfortably.

"I missed you, ya know?"

"We saw each other yesterday afternoon, Ed."

"Yesterday didn't count, Y/N. We were with my siblings." He pointed.

Edmund had a point. You loved Peter, Susan and Lucy; but you had multiple intimate matters that you preferred to talk about with Ed only.

"What did you want to talk about? Sounds important."

You were always closest to Edmund than of the other Pevensies. Since the two of you were four, you've been best friends. People were right, you and Ed were always joined at the hip. It was always you and him against the world and you hoped it would stay that way forever.

"I'm in love."

Your world stopped. Well, apparently it wouldn't be just the two of you against the world anymore. Now you would have to share your best friend.

"Oh, Hm… I- didn't see that coming. I mean, that’s great! If…" You trailed off with the words, but Ed seemed too lost in his thoughts that most likely involved this girl to hear you. "If you're happy, so am I!"

You knew very well that it was selfish, but you wanted him to be happy with you. You knew him better than anyone, he loved your company and even though you doubted his words a little, he always said you were cute. Why weren't you good enough for the boy you’ve been in love with for six years?

You bit your bottom lip to keep your eyes from filling with tears and discreetly cleared your throat before leaning forward slightly from your spot on the bed to snap your fingers in front of Edmund’s face, who had his head in the clouds.

"Oh, sorry. I… I'm just kind of nervous, you know? That's why I came here. I need your help to ask her out on a date." He spoke so quickly that you almost didn't understand him. He was avoiding your eyes, clearly nervous.

You sighed tiredly and knelt in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

You weren't being fair. For years you were the most important girl in his life (after his sisters and his mother of course) and your approval clearly means the world to him. If you were as madly in love with someone as Ed seemed to be with this girl, you also would be heartbroken if your best friend didn't support you.

"Of course, I'll help you, Ed. I'm happy for you. What do you have in mind for the date?"

He sighed in relief and was already visibly more relaxed.

"I'm not sure. That's why I came to you. I suspect my siblings know, but I don't want to hear their taunts. Especially if she dumps me."

You ignored all the negative feelings that came with this sentence and focused only on your friend.

"Be optimistic, okay? You're an amazing guy and if she dumps you, it’s her loss. And I think I can help you much more if you tell me who she is." You suggested.

Edmund was never one to be easily embarrassed, but for some reason today he was blushing like there was no tomorrow.

"I don't think I have a chance with her, okay? I'd rather not say who she is for now. I trust you and know you'll know how to help me plan the perfect date."

Only a mad person could agree with …

"Of course I can help you, Ed."

Mad; that's what you are.

His face lit up

"Thank you so much, Y/N/N! You're the best!" He exclaimed, getting up to hug you.

You always forgot about the rest of the world when you were with Ed. You'd give anything to be able to smell his cologne, bury your face in his neck, and be held in his warm arms for eternity.

But that would never be possible.

Because he would never be yours.

***

You guys were meeting every day to decide how Ed could ask out the mysterious girl (Yes, he was still refusing to tell you who she was) a couple of weeks ago. You honestly had no idea who she could be because as far as you knew, you were the only girl he interacts with. Your only suspect was Chloe Chapman, the most beautiful girl of your school year. She lent her eraser to you in the biology class so she was probably very nice. But she had travelled to America with her family and she would spend the whole summer there and Edmund wanted to arrange the date for three days from now. There was no way it could be her.

Apparently, your best friend knew this girl very well. He knew her favourite flowers and snacks, (Which was very helpful as he wanted the date to be a picnic) Ed insisted it would be perfect as she wouldn't like something too expensive and elaborate while also wanting something special and unique. That day you cried yourself to sleep because a picnic was your idea of the perfect date and you loved to fantasize about sharing that experience with Edmund. But now he would realize your dream with someone else.

Life was very unfair.

To make everything worse, he begged you to wait with him until she arrived. Edmund would never ask you to stay on the date with him because he wanted to have a private moment with the girl of his dreams and didn't want to make you uncomfortable being the third wheel. But he wanted you to stay with him to give him moral support until she shows up.

That was the only time in your life you hated being best friends with him.

At that very moment, you were in Edmund's room. He told you he was going to ask the mysterious girl out this afternoon and he would be here any minute with her answer.

A part of you really wanted her to say 'yes' because Ed was madly in love with her and you didn't want him to be heartbroken if she rejected him. But you couldn't help but wish she would say' no' because if she accepts, you knew Edmund would fight until the end for their relationship to last and you would be obligated to be his maid of honour and eventually the godmother of his children. The thought made you shiver.

You nearly had a heart attack when the door burst open and Edmund appeared, looking like he had won a million pounds in a marathon.

"She said yes!" he exclaimed. You've never seen him so happy before

“Oh my God, Ed! I'm so happy for you!" You replied, doing your best to look enthusiastic.

The two of you held each other for a while until Edmund broke the comfortable silence.

“You will be there, right?” he murmured against your hair.

“Of course, Ed. I will always be there when you need me.” That was the first completely true sentence you've said to him since he told you about the mysterious girl.

"Good. Thank you for everything” He pulled away from you just enough so that he could look to your face.

You were almost sure he stared at your lips and he was just as stunned by the proximity as you were. But he gently turned away from you and went to his desk to get the little notebook you both were using to plan Edmund's date. You tweaked the last details for the rest of the afternoon, but you noticed the way he avoided your gaze the entire time and you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel like your heart had been ripped out of your chest.

***

Today was the big day. Edmund asked you to get ready because you were meeting the mysterious girl today and he really wanted you to make a good impression on her so you both could become friends.

Fantastic. Simply fantastic.

You picked up your favourite summer dress and put on some simple makeup. It was an outdoor picnic after all.

Edmund arranged for you to meet at 3:30 pm at a flower shop near Primrose Hill, the place where the date would happen. Arriving at the store, it wasn't long before you found him and you forgot how to breathe when you saw the owner of your heart wearing a plain blue sweater and comfy trousers that you'd never seen him wear before. Apparently, he took your advice and bought new clothes for the occasion. He looked adorable.

“Hi, Ed” You called out to get his attention.

He turned to you and you felt your cheeks heat up as you felt his gaze travel over your body.

“You are…Wow! Y/N…I don't even have the words to say how beautiful you look” he said nervously, the pure adoration in his voice making your stomach flutter.

“Thanks, Ed. You look good too” You smiled.

The two of you quickly pulled yourselves together and set out on a journey to buy the perfect flowers for his date. In addition to her favourite flowers (which coincidentally were your favourite flowers as well), he asked the seller for help buying flowers with specific meanings. You were passionate about flowers, but you never learned about their meanings and the only flower Edmund knew was the mysterious girl’s favourite. According to the seller, red roses mean romance, tulips are true love and alstroemerias mean loyalty. You were both completely embarrassed when the kind florist recommended with a smirk that Ed buy lilies too because they mean eroticism and sexuality. He bought five different types of flowers in addition to the mysterious girl's favourites and left the store.

You were slightly nervous to get to Primrose Hill because Edmund insisted on decorating it himself, despite your pleas. You loved his best friend, but he didn't have a lot of decorating sense.

He had specifically arranged for the date to be at Ed's favourite tree at 4:00 pm, the tree was set back from the rest of the park for privacy but it was still a beautiful spot. That was the two of you's favourite hangout spot since you were kids and you couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that he's using your two's special spot to have a date with a girl.

You were starting to worry that he would stop caring so much about you now that he had a possible girlfriend.

The two of you arrived on the date and you were shocked to see the most beautiful picnic setting ever. Indeed, the flowers were still missing to complete the decoration, but the delicate tablecloth was full of your favourite foods that looked absolutely delicious and the comical picnic basket gave it a special charm.

“It's way too beautiful. You didn't do this on your own.” That was the first thing you said.

Ed shrugged, but you didn't miss the boyish smile on his face.

“My sisters helped me. I thought I had already overloaded you so I asked for more help. But I am offended that you would assume that I couldn't make something beautiful on my own, Y/N/N.” He said, pretending to be offended.

You helped him put the finishing touches on with the flowers and you can't help but sigh as you look at the most adorable picnic you've ever seen.

You would give anything for Ed to have done all that specifically for you.

"It's 5 minutes to 4:00 pm" Ed commented while looking at his wristwatch.

You nodded and you two sat down next to each other.

“I don't know her” You broke the comfortable silence after a few minutes.

He looked at you with confusion written on his face.

“I don't know her, Ed. But I see how much she seems to make you happy and I've never seen your eyes so bright as when you talk about her. She clearly is your world and you wouldn't have made something so beautiful and special if you didn't love her. I'm so glad you found her, Edmund… I wish the world to you both because I feel like you were made for each other” You commented, surprised that your voice didn't choke.

Every word you said was like a knife in your heart, but it was the truth. You loved him unconditionally, and you knew that Edmund loved her as much as you loved him. He still looked confused by your words, but it didn't matter. You needed to accept that you both just weren't meant to be and that was okay. You were strong and deep down you knew you would get over it. The important thing is that Ed was happy and that you will never stop being best friends.

When you looked up from your lap, you looked at your best friend's face. He had a neutral expression that didn't give away what he was thinking, but you'd never seen him look so peaceful before.

He looked away from your gaze to look at the wristclock.

“It's 4:00 pm, Y/N. I think it's time.”

You nodded in acceptance with some unshed tears and got up off the ground, walking peacefully away from Ed so he could enjoy his long-awaited date.

“Y/N where are you going?” You heard Ed's voice after walking a little less than a meter.

You turned around, confused only to see an Edmund who was clearly trying very hard not to burst out laughing. The left hand was shoved in the pocket of the trousers and the right held the bouquet with the favourite flowers of the mysterious girl.

Wait…

are the mysterious girl, Y/N/N. I can't believe you didn't notice sooner!" He exclaimed with a huge smile on his face.

"What?!?"

“These are your favourite things, sweetheart. I wanted to know your opinion about everything because it was everything for you.

“But… That day you said she said yes” You pointed, still not believing the situation you were in.

“It needed to be believable. I really wanted to ask you out like a normal person, but I didn't want to ruin our friendship if you didn't feel the same way. I thought that if you saw how well I know you and how thoughtful I could be as a boyfriend you would want me. I'm sorry if I hurte--"

You threw yourself into his arms and kissed him passionately. His lips were as soft and sweet as you'd imagine. He tasted like home.

“Of course, I feel the same, Ed. It's impossible not to love you." You smiled, leaning your forehead against his.

He stole one more peck and held you by the hand so you could enjoy the picnic. The long-awaited date would be the beginning of the most beautiful love story between two soulmates.

[fuckin-sick-bih]

Tattoos and Tissues pt 3!

Fandom: Stranger Things Summary: No Upside Down. Tattoo Artist and Florist AU. Eddie goes to Steve's place to take care of his florist boyfriend who has fallen ill. CW: Mess, inducing, stuffy talk, illness, mentions of erections and adult themes/kink, Steve has the kink and Eddie likes indulging Word Count: 4.3k Author Note: I did it! I finished it! I finished a fic! Holy fuck! No one ever let me do this again... I am absolutely going to do this to myself again no questions, I just suck at pacing myself lmao. Honestly, the first draft was WAY more Adult lol But also I don't want this to be the end of this AU. I just don't wanna do another 3-part fic, I wanna do little mini fics or drabbles if ideas happen tbh. Regardless, enjoy. I am aware not all things resolve, but hey that's why it can be something cute and small and on-going, right? Eddie - bold Steve - Italics MINORS DNI

whats your address?

What? Why?

because i come baring gifts, Harrington. address, please, so i can figure out where the hell im going im so lost

413 Building D Maple Glen Apartments just off Terrace Street. I’ll buzz you in, just come up to the fourth floor, and I’ll be poking my head out.

When Eddie showed up at Building D of Maple Glen Apartments and saw he had four flights of stairs to climb, he decided he was going to strangle Steve instead of nurse him back to health. He adjusted the bags of goodies for Steve in his hands and began the climb up to the fourth floor. The top floor, of course. 

As he reached the top and exited the stairwell, he spotted Steve poking his head into the hallway as promised. Sure, Eddie was panting, but Steve looked wrecked. There were dark circles under his eyes, his nose was bright cherry red at the tip and rims, and the rest of his face was pale. 

“Jesus H. Christ, you weren’t kidding… You really are sick, huh?” Eddie said in a soft, somewhat concerned tone as he approached Steve.

The other’s pale cheeks seemed to flush up a dark shade of red at Eddie’s words. “What id the world are you doi’g here, Eddie?” Steve asked in a congested and raspy voice that made Eddie wince in sympathy for his throat. 

Instantly, Eddie went digging in his bags for the bag of cough drops. “Please suck on one of those, Harrington. Talking sounds like it hurts. And they’ve got menthol-y stuff in ‘em. It’ll help your nose, c’mon lemme in.” He shoulders his way into Steve’s apartment before the other can stop him. 

“Eddie!” Steve rasped out before turning away from the other to cough harshly into his arm. “You dod’t wadt to be id here, you’ll get s-siiih… IXXGH’T! Sick.” There had been just enough time for Steve’s hand to shoot up and pinch his nose to stifle what sounded like a powerful and still just barely restrained sneeze. It made Eddie wince to think how it must have hurt his ears. 

There was a scoff from the curly-haired tattoo artist, who was already unpacking his bag of goodies on the nearby countertop. At the same time, Steve shut the door, not protesting anymore. “Bless you and puhhh-lease. I don’t get sick, Steve. Munson Constitution. Allergies? Yes. Sick? No. I can’t even remember the last time I was sick. Wait-” He frowned as he tried to dig up the memory. “I think it was like 8th grade? And I had the flu? I dunno; Uncle Wayne came home to me curled up asleep in the empty tub with a fever. He couldn’t find me for like twenty minutes.” 

There was a mildly concerned but still somewhat fond smile on Steve’s face. “You’re a bess, Budsod.” He sniffled thickly and grabbed a tissue from the box beside the couch where it looked like Steve had taken up residence. A nest of blankets, a pillow from his bed, crumpled tissues surrounding the nest, and a few empty water bottles. “But seriously, you should go. Robid high-tailed it out of here to Dadcy’s the seco’d she heard I was sick.”

“All the more reason for me to stay!” Eddie chirped, stepping back to show Steve the menagerie of sick supplies he’d brought. “Not that you need a babysitter, and if you seriously wanna be left alone to your misery, I get it, but…” He side-stepped a little closer to bump their shoulders together. “I never liked being alone while sick.” He admits softly.

The little bump made Steve’s lips twitch, and Eddie counted it as a win. Then Steve moved forward to have a look at the supplies. “Jesus, you didd’t have to get b’me all this…”

Eddie pats Steve on the back as he moved with him, eyes scanning over the cold/flu meds, a couple cans of chicken noodle soup, some bottles of Gatorade, the cough drops he’d mentioned earlier, and even- “Those fucking dissolvable shower disks are evil, Harrington. That’s your treat if you’re a good boy and take your meds, deal?” He said with a smirk growing on his face now.

A sputtering noise from Steve turned into a coughing fit almost right away, bad enough that Eddie was rubbing his back through the end of it. “W-What the hell does that bead?” He choked out, eyes wide. “If they’re evil thed, why did you bri’g theb?”

A laugh escaped Eddie, who was now taking Steve’s hands to guide him back to the couch, settling the sick man down to wrap him back up in blankets. “Because they work and because you will probably love it.” He said playfully and hesitated momentarily, trying not to overthink it before pressing his lips to Steve’s forehead. “Not warm.” He whispered softly.

Steve let out an almost shuddering-sounding sigh like he was just happy to be touched. To be taken care of for once. They’d only started getting to know each other but had been texting a bit. With all those teens he babysat, Eddie could believe it. Between work, babysitting, and probably taking care of things at the apartment with his roommate… when did Steve get time to care for himself? No wonder he got sick, Eddie thought. 

“What do you say to some daytime cold meds, a cough drop, some Gatorade, and I’ll heat you up a can of soup in a bit?” Eddie asked Steve softly, running his fingers delicately through the other man’s messy bedhead. It was as if Steve was a cat, utterly leaning into the touch despite how sick he must feel with how he looked. 

There was a nod from Steve, so Eddie took that to mean go ahead with his plan. “Kinda glad to see you keep work at work.” He admits to Steve in a casually playful way while grabbing Steve a Gatorade and some pills. “Would’ve sucked if we were both sneezing our heads off- bless you, by the way.”

As Eddie spoke, Steve’s face had been going slowly slacker, and his eyes were unfocused in a classic pre-sneeze hang-up. “Ixx’TSH! IXGh’t! Oh god… I’b dot godda be able to stifle those buch lo’ger…” Steve mutters with a much soupier-sounding sniffle than Eddie expected for some pretty well-stifled sneezes. 

Nevertheless, Eddie pulled his bandana from his back pocket and swatted Steve with it before offering it out to him. “Here. Stop stifling then, jackass. Didn’t see me stifling for you, hm?” He pointed out, handed over the meds and drink, and gestured to the cough drops. “Try one. It’ll feel good on your throat and help your congestion.” 

Steve caught the bandana and gave Eddie an appreciative smile for the soft fabric against his nose. “Ugh, fide if it gets you to shut up.” He teased, punctuated by a weak cough after downing the meds. Then he grabs a menthol lozenge. After popping it into his mouth, Steve’s eyebrows raise. “I was expecti’g that to taste worse… cad defiditely still taste the bedthol…” He admits with a slight sniffle.

“Sorry… what were you sayi’g earlier?” Steve asked with another little sniffle as he settled on the couch, pressing the bandana to his nose some more. There’s the slightest flush that wasn’t there a little bit ago. Eddie would’ve remembered if it had been there or not. It’s too cute, barely spreading over his cheekbones and nose tip. 

Eddie was knocked out of his daydreaming by remembering he had to answer Steve. “Huh? Oh- thanking you for your lack of plants. That’s all.” He jokes and shakes his head. “It’s stupid, don’t worry about it. I’m just glad to get a break from being the sneezy one.” He teased.

A quiet, albeit raspy, chuckle escapes Steve while he sucks on the lozenge. “Ab I givi’g you a rud for you b-buhh…bodey yet? Or do I deed to snff let byself sdeeze bore for that?” With all the stopping to sniffle and how his nose seemed to be tickling, Eddie got the idea the menthol in the lozenge was working on Steve’s sinuses. 

“Well, I think you’re doomed to sneeze more soon either way, big boy.” Eddie teased as he watched the other man’s expression fall again into that pre-sneeze desperation. 

Still, Steve seemed to want to deny himself release. “D-D’noh idea… w-whhaahat you bead, Eds-” His breath was beginning to hitch dangerously now, coming closer and closer to its inevitable crescendo. 

Eddie took Steve’s hands, “Don’t stifle, Steve… just sneeze. It’s okay.” He urged the other, getting the feeling it was far more than just a matter of Steve not wanting to spread germs. Like he was still embarrassed and shy.

“Oh, okaaehh-! AeISHHue! HeiiISHhuh! Ngh- Ugh… Oh fuck. Still tickles.” Steve admits, scrunching and wriggling his nose in all sorts of ways Eddie found altogether too damn endearing. 

Eddie rolled his eyes and dropped down onto the couch with Steve. “Come here, sniffles.” And he can plainly see that has an effect on Steve from where he sits now. Steve’s breath catches, and there’s the slightest tent to the front of his Hawkins High Swim Team gray sweatpants. Whoever designed those pants for the swim team, Eddie could kiss them. “Oh, you like that?” He purred.

A shaky sort of breath left Steve, but Eddie wasn’t quite sure if it was from being teased or still needing to sneeze. Though Steve moved a bit closer, his eyes were watering a little now with the irritation that wouldn’t budge. “O-oh god, cobe o-ohhhih-!” Even with as desperate of a hitch as it sounded, Steve still faltered into sniffles and groaned. 

The curly-haired man looked at Steve with an exceptionally soft pout, one of distinct sympathy. “You want some help with that? Seriously, that looks like torture.” He tilted his head when Steve sniffled, and his eyes widened at Eddie’s offer. 

“I’b sorry, what’d you just ask, b’me?” Steve asked, like he wasn’t sure if he was hearing correctly. He was still rubbing his nose against the cuff of his hoodie; Eddie wasn’t sure if he was encouraging or fighting off the tickle anymore. 

Eddie raised a brow at Steve in confusion, “Do you need help with that stuck sneeze? You’re starting to look more miserable than me peak allergy season, Stevie.” He teased, watching as the other continued staring at him like a deer in headlights until it clicked for Eddie, and he had his lightbulb moment. “Wait! Does that turn you on?” He asked, sounding utterly delighted to have figured out how to get Steve going to the point where he was nearly speechless.

Instantly, Steve was sputtering, and it caused a few coughs to escape him. “Oh by god, you cad’t just say thi’gs like that to b’me, Eds…” He complained, leaning back against the couch to tip his head back while rubbing at his nose some more. “Fuck… ugh, bay- maehh… hehih-!” And once again, Eddie watched him wind up, only for nothing to happen. 

“Sooo…?” Eddie prompted and gave a vague wave of his hand as if gesturing Steve to continue. 

It was truly remarkable how red Steve’s face could flush, Eddie thought as he watched the lighter brunette make the internal debate. “Fide. Jesus, we practically flirt all the tibe adyway.” He reached forward to snatch a tissue, twisting the corner into a point.

Eddie’s brows furrowed as he watched in utter confusion while Steve strangled the tissue. “Okay, I gotta ask… what the fuck are you doing?” 

“I’b- ihhih… ugh, I’b baki’g sobethi’g for you to i’duce b’me.” He explained before handing the tissue, now twisted to a neatly pointed tip, over to Eddie. “Probably wod’t get bore thad ode use out of it because I’b all coldish, but iihh-! it should do the trick.”

After accepting the new tool, Eddie turned to face Steve more as he started to get the idea. “Ohh, I think I get it. Okay. Never actually thought to use a tissue like this, honestly.” He admits before smirking a little. This was Steve’s kink, and well… he wanted to perform for him a little. Make it fun for him. 

He trails the very tip of the twisted-up tissue end over the tip of Steve’s red nose and watches as his nostrils flare in response to even just that. “Jesus, someone’s sensitive.” It was just a stray comment. Sometimes, Eddie couldn’t keep his mouth shut, but judging by how Steve’s hips suddenly squirmed, he really enjoyed it. 

A grin split across Eddie’s face, and he suddenly moved to straddle Steve’s lap, “Think I need a better position for this, don’t you, sweetheart?” he asked teasingly and winked at his boyfriend, who was now bright red as he looked up at him. Eddie eased down to sit more in Steve’s lap, which caused the other man to groan softly. 

“Sure, E-Eddie…” Steve stuttered out, but this time, it clearly had nothing to do with his sensitive nostrils that Eddie was already getting back to teasing. “You cad go i-ihhh idside…” 

That made the darker-haired man raise his brows in mild surprise, but he nodded, gently slipping the tip of the tissue into Steve’s nose. He gently twirled the tissue curiously, which had Steve instantly gasping beneath him, and Eddie’s dick twitched at just how powerful he felt for a brief moment.

The twirl seemed to do the trick because Steve’s nostrils flared out, and his eyes fluttered closed with another desperate, hitching breath. Eddie’s hand shot back with the tissue still clutched between his fingers, the twisted tip now all damp and limp despite its short adventure. 

“Ihh… IXXTISHHUE!! HEIIISHUE! Uh… Hupt’IISHHuh… ugh oh by god…” Steve groaned out after the sneezes. The first two burst forth with a sudden intensity Eddie hadn’t been expecting at all. The lighter-haired brunette hastily grabbed a tissue to press to his face, cleaning himself up while a blush spread across his neck and cheeks. “Fuck that’s so e’barassi’g.” He whispered, but Eddie could feel Steve’s erection pressing firmly against him. 

The ease with which Eddie could get Steve so hard he was pressing up against him like that even while he was under the weather was borderline intoxicating. It didn’t matter that Steve had snapped right forward to sneeze, the spray misting briefly against Eddie’s forearm and stomach.

“Bless you, hey… it’s alright. You’re sick; gotta get that gunk outta you. Maybe a shower with one of those disks would be a good idea, actually… clear out some of that congestion, huh?” He offered and grabbed Steve another tissue to replace the one he’d just about soaked through by now.

Little, congested snuffles were coming from Steve constantly as Eddie sat back in his lap to let him tend to his leaking nose. “Baybe…” Steve relented a little, still seeming shy, and wiped away the tears at the edges of his eyes from sneezing. His sinuses were so utterly full it was hard not to tear up with every sneeze. “What uh… what exactly do they eved do? Dever really tried theb before.”

At that, Eddie perked up and grinned at Steve before moving out of his lap. “Oh, you’re gonna love this- c’mon, sniffles. Let’s get you in the nice warm shower with one of those disks then.” He slid backward off of Steve’s lap carefully. He offered his hands to pull him up, ensuring Steve was steady on his feet before grabbing one of said shower disks and being led to the bathroom. 

The bathroom was admittedly a little small for two people. Eddie wasn’t sure how Steve and his roommate managed it, but he went about getting the disk out of the packaging. Of course, the moment the menthol scent hit him, his eyes watered, and his nose prickled, making him pause to rub roughly at it with his hand.

A sudden hand on his arm made him pause, blinking over at Steve, who was looking at him with a concerned expression. “I cad oped it?” He offers softly, but Eddie takes a moment to look at him. Steve looks exhausted and sick, sure, but his pupils are wide and lust-blown. That hard-on from the couch is still half-present and painfully evident in those gray sweatpants, too.

“I got it, sweethhheart.” Eddie assures, wiggling the disk as his own breath tries to hitch, and he lets it for once. In fact, Eddie sniffs slightly, which only irritates his sensitive nose more, so his nostrils twitch and flare. “Told you… you’ll l-love.. thhhh… hEXZT’Shiew! Whew! Okay. You’ll love these.” And without another moment to waste, Eddie sets the little disk in the shower for Steve with a wink. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

Finally, Eddie sees Steve’s unfiltered reaction to one of his sneezes, similar to in the library. It was as if the poor man had completely bluescreened briefly before rebooting. Pupils wide and lust blown as he stared at Eddie, who still rubbed his nose. “Uh… yeah, so just… shower like dorbal?” he asked with another soupy sniffle and began to pull off his shirt, already starting to shiver.

Suddenly, Eddie’s throat felt dry as Steve began undressing with him in the bathroom, and he nodded. “Yep. That’s the idea. It’ll dissolve, and the scent will help clear out your sinuses. Want me to go sit on the couch and wait?” 

With his pants still on, Steve was reaching forward to crank the water as hot as it would go, still sniffling. “Uhm… ki’da… ki’da dizzy actually? Could you baybe like… keep close? Id case I deed you?” There was a quiet plea in Steve’s voice, the request coming out awkward and stunted like he wasn’t used to asking for help. 

Something in it tugged on Eddie’s shriveled heart, and he looked up at Steve with a soft expression. “Yeah, Stevie. I can stay. I’ll turn around so you can strip and get in, deal? Deal.” He agreed, tucking himself into the corner by the sink to stare at the wall. There was a good deal of shuffling behind him before he heard the shower curtain and the spray of water finally being interrupted. 

The menthol scent from the shower disk was already making Eddie’s nose twitch and tingle, so he closed the toilet seat lid, going to sit down on it. “Remember what I said earlier? We’re trying to get that gunk out of you, man. Trust me when I say I’m not gonna judge you or anything. Seriously, I’m sure you’ll get to see me peak allergy s-seeh-season, and you’ll get it.”

His idle chatter as Steve showered made the man give a quiet grunt. “You sure?” Steve’s voice was tired, nervous, and still congested, but it already sounded a little better than before. 

“P-Positiihh-“ But just as Eddie had been about to respond, his breath hitched dangerously, and his hand flung up to cover his mouth and nose. “IXT’SHiew! Ugh, positive! Sorry, sensitive nose.” Eddie admitted with a little sniffle and scrunched his nose up to try and dispel that tingling sort of itch. It wasn’t like his usual allergic itch, just maddening enough to make his sinuses wonder what was in the air to react to. “Hit’SHZiew! Snf! Motherfucker. It’s supposed to make you sneeze, not me!” 

A laugh escaped Steve, turning into some productive-sounding coughs that had Eddie grimacing in sympathy. “Give m’be a m’bidute, dod’t worry.” He assured, sniffling a little as the shower disk worked its magic while he went through his usual shower routine. 

It was barely a minute later when the bathroom had gone oddly quiet. “Heh… Gonna- HEIKTshuh! HI’TShue! Eh… ET’SHHue! HN’kt!” The last one sounded strange, and Eddie blinked a few times, wondering what in the hell Steve had done to make it sound like that. 

“You good, man?” Eddie checked in softly, almost tempted to peek over the shower curtain just to make sure he wasn’t going to pass out or anything.

A shaky breath left Steve, and Eddie saw one of his hands come up to grab the shower curtain rod for support. “Uh-huh… snff! Yeah, just-” Another little groan came from the lighter brunette, and Eddie felt worry fluttering in his ribcage like a frightened bird. “Dizzy… m’okay. Rad out of breath od that last sdeeze…” 

Something like a little cough slipped out of Steve, and Eddie stood to put a hand on top of Steve’s that had a white knuckle grip on the shower curtain rod. “Maybe it’s time to rinse off and get out, yeah? I’ll get your towel and look away so you can hop out.” He encouraged, already moving, to grab the fluffy maroon towel and hold it open. 

Only a few moments later, Steve sounded like he’d rinsed off, but then there was a soft catch of breath just above the spray before- “HeXT’SHHuh! EXT’SHHUE! Hihh… IXT’SHHuh IT’SHH! Oh by god…” If anything, Steve’s tone sounded exasperated, but the sneezes had sounded productive. “You were right. About the shower disk.” He groaned, and Eddie could hear the shower spray being disrupted again, making him smile a little before the water shut off.

“You’re kind of adorable when you’re sick, y’know that?” Eddie said as he shut his eyes, turning his face as he held out the towel for Steve. “I mean- you’re adorable in general, don’t get me wrong! But like… I dunno, man. I know you can take care of yourself, but I just wanna make sure you’re looked after.” 

There was another brief pause, and the continued silence as he felt Steve press into the towel had Eddie’s anxiety spiking. He wrapped the towel around the other’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze there. As the silence dragged on, Eddie felt a need to fill it, “Sorry, is that weird? I don’t wanna like- infantilize you or anything. I just… I wanna drag you to bed, wrap you in blankets, get you whatever you need until you feel better, y’know?”

“Would you lay with me?” Steve asked suddenly, voice right in front of him, and it shocked Eddie so much that his eyes snapped open. 

In front of him stood Steve. Hair dripping wet still, the towel now around his waist, and droplets of water running down his sinfully pretty chest. A more perverse part of Eddie had the intrusive thought of licking the water off him. Steve still had dark circles under his eyes, but those eyes were bright and pleading. “Of course I will, Stevie. We can get comfy and lay together as long as you want.”

Visibly, Steve’s shoulders relaxed, and he nodded with an almost pleading expression, pulling at his brows and lips. “Yes, please? That sounds- snf! fantastic.” He lifted a towel corner to dab at his sensitive, red nostrils with a bit of a wince. “Ugh, ow.”

With a little purse of his lips, Eddie made a sympathetic noise. “Nose all raw?” he asked, reaching out to open the bathroom door so Steve could lead the way to his bedroom. “I didn’t think to get any Vaseline; sorry, sweetheart.”

“S’okay. This always happens when I get si-ihh…. Ihih-!” Halfway down the short hallway, Steve paused with one hand on the wall as his breath began to hitch and his eyes fluttered. “Oh no come o-ohhhhh-!” Eddie watched as Steve’s hand hovered in front of his face, expression utterly helpless and slack before suddenly exploding. “IX’TSH! HiISHHue! Snf! Ugh- sorry.”

A little chuckle came from Eddie, who just shook his head, “I am the last one you have to go apologizing to for sneezing.” He assured Steve and put a hand on his lower back as he followed him. 

It didn’t take long for Steve to be dressed in some boxers and a sweatshirt since he was cold after his shower. Without even thinking about it, Eddie began pulling off his shirt and sat down on the bed to take off his shoes. The sudden sensation of fingers against his back made Eddie jump a little, and his head whipped around to find Steve tracing the dice tattoos along his spine. 

“Like what you see, Harrington?” Eddie asked in amusement as he finally kicked off his shoes to lie down beside Steve. He wiggled out of his dark pants, which got tossed to the floor as well, leaving him in boxers. Most of his upper half was covered in tattoos at this point. 

Some kind of sleepy slight hum came out of Steve, slightly congested again but not enough to hamper his speech yet. “They’re pretty. Your tattoos. Did you do them yourself?” He asked curiously, and his hand now strayed curiously over the large moth just below Eddie’s sternum. 

Eddie adjusted himself to get the blankets wrapped around them both, making sure Steve was tucked in properly before tossing the blankets over his legs. “Some smaller ones, yeah. Because I’m an idiot. Don’t tattoo yourself, Stevie. I mean it.” There’s amusement and a warning, but he leans to press his lips to Steve’s forehead again. Both checking his temperature and enjoying the simple intimacy. “Chrissy did a lot of them. Gareth, one or two, actually.”

This time, the hum from Steve was more distant, and when Eddie looked, he saw the other man was nearly asleep, tucked against him. “Get some rest, sleeping beauty. You need it. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Taking a deep, slow breath, Steve let out a long and decidedly sleepy sigh through his mouth. His nose was still a little too congested for such things. “Promise? You won’t leave?”

Something physically hurt inside Eddie to think once upon a time; Steve might’ve been in a similar spot, vulnerable and left completely alone when he didn’t want to be. “I’ll be here. I promise.” Eddie moved his hand to find one of Steve’s, interlocking their pinkies so he could squeeze the other man’s tight before bringing it up to kiss his knuckles. “I’m here, Steve.”

The reassurance was all he needed. Steve was out like a light, soft little congested snores sounding against Eddie’s shoulder as they cuddled beneath the blankets in the cozy queen-sized bed. And really… Eddie couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be. 

[kaepop-trash]

would u indulge us with a lil teaser from an update ur working on? 👀🤲

So I wasn't sure if I should post this because idk if I'll finish it, it's mostly just a worldbuilding experiment. I was writing this to work on this world so it's just a bunch of scenes with no continuity. That being said, this is the thing I have written the most in the past few months so this will have to do.

_

Summary: "This better be good." (Y/N) sighed into her coffee cup, less from sleep and more because of how awful the station's coffee machine was. "You've called me in exactly 8 hours into the one day I took off in two months."

"Two officers on night duty picked up a suspect near the meatpacking factory. I thought you would like to interview the potential suspect. Since this is your case." Kun shrugged, his holster rattling at the movement.

Warnings: Excessive exposition, no payoff

Word Count: 1666

_

When her fingers wrapped around the doorknob, there was a small shake in them. Her knuckles tightened in an effort to hide it, flexing just to be sure.

She spoke the moment the interrogation room door pushed open, “Your lawyer wanted me to ask you if you still don’t want him in here.” Talking to the floor, she turned to shut the thing behind her. A good enough start, she told herself.

“I apologise for his persistence. I asked him to leave but he is wary of his job.”

“It would be unfortunate to lose a client like you, I assume.” Kun spoke with his signature interrogation voice, impassive but with an edge of sympathy. The man laughed as she turned to face the room. Despite preparing herself this entire detour to meet his gaze head on, she lost her nerve and looked to Kun for some reassurance. He caught on, turning and giving her a pursed smile.

“Mr. Suh was just telling me about why he was in the area this late in the night.” Kun pointed at his pad, letting her know that he’d been taking his statement.

“I am looking to buy two of the five abandoned factories in the district. I was just scouting the area to assess my options.” He spoke slowly, his gaze dragging away from Kun in a leisurely stride before landing on her.

“At two in the morning?” She asked, the solid question giving her the confidence to finally meet his gaze.

“I’m a busy man.” He answered with laidback ease. Like he was having a dinner table conversation instead of being suspected for murder.

“And what do busy men like you do that require you loitering on private property at questionable hours?” She asked the question in her mind.

In response, his lips lifted in an amused smirk.

“She’s new here.” Kun spoke with an awkward weight on his tongue. The man seemed amused by the information, giving her a questioning look as Kun turned, “Johnny Suh is the sole owner of the Miti Conglomerates, the largest transportation service this far out on the edge of the known universe.”

“Well, on Xohorat I am mostly the owner of the only hotel on the planet. I am sure you had to stay there since you are new here.” He asked her, visible humour illuminating his eyes.

She did have to stay in that hotel, almost a year ago— when she was actually new to the planet. The most luxurious stay at the end of the universe. That is what the fliers over town and her transfer officer had informed her. In reality the room she could afford was the equivalent of an airport hotel way out on the opposite side of the universe. Her home. Not bad but more practical than luxury. It also hosted an interesting bar. All of this, of course, Johnny Suh already knew.

"Where were you on the twenty-fifth evening?" She asked him, fixing a discerning eye squarely on him.

"In my office. Working. I can provide the surveillance footage by tomorrow if that will help your investigation."

Overeager. She deduced, still keeping her eyes on his every movement. Despite the words, his body language was completely disarmed. There was no nervous shifting, no restless tapping, not even a frown.

"Did you ever have an association with a Mr. Pilem?" She pretended to look for the name in the file.

"I've never heard that name in my life." He answered after a pause to consider it. Perfectly orchestrated or the truth, she deduced. Those were the only two options she had.

"He was fairly well off. I'm sure on a planet as small as Xohorat, your circles might have overlapped?"

"Your partner told me he is a legislative clown,” He dragged his gaze from him to her, fixing her in place, “I don't mix with reformists."

"We are all reformists in this universe, Mr Suh." Kun chimed in, sounding rather serious.

"So you're a factionist?" She moved on, "Any animosity towards the government? Is that why you live this far out?"

"You live here too. What are your allegiances?" He pointed a finger at her. Despite the jest in his tone, he seemed to want an answer, "I am a man of business. Xohorat is a cheap hub for storing ships. The people of this colony are born engineers. My ships are the best in the galaxy at the fraction of the cost of the ones stored on moons closer to the reformer capital.” He sat back.

"The centre of the universe." Kun corrected him. That is what the capital was, after all. (Y/N) really had to curb the urge to tell Kun to drop it.

The words made the man look at Kun, his scoff that of pity, "The universe is the largest thing to exist. It's ceaseless pride that makes us think that we've discovered the centre of it."

Kun, she noted, looked momentarily taken aback. In his entire life, no one had said those words out loud to him. So obvious when spoken but never questioned. The outer planets were quite religious, she'd been surprised to learn. This far away from the influence of the capital, the laws were bleak. Her being here alone was a laughable matter, as she had learned pretty early into the job. Cops here only patrolled in cars and caught petty thieves. Detectives were simply government sanctioned employees chosen by the federal state. It was an illusion of order to keep up the illusion of empire this far.

Yet the reformist religion was stronger here than it was amongst the capital elite. Growing up, it had looked to her like people merely followed the tenets of the religion as a social obligation. For reformers, Wednesday evenings were for breaking fast with the community, a religious practice that made the community come together in the middle of the week to remember the gift of prophecy. The one that led the first explorers to the very centre of the universe. In the capital, the centre of the prophecies, Wednesday was a weekly dinner party to negotiate the happenings of government.

But here in the fringes of the capital's grasp, the religion was followed in the strictest ways. Here they still worshipped the original sun. The source of all energy that allowed the universe to be what it is today— inhabited by human beings. It was as if the world here had not moved past the exploration age, stuck in the beliefs that stopped the space farers from going insane on their long, tireless journeys to reach here.

If Kun had anything to say, he must have swallowed it. Instead, getting out of his chair.

"Would you like a cup of coffee, Mr. Suh?" He asked him, getting a nod in response. When Kun looked at her, she shook her head.

"Some water." She told him.

She followed Kun's retreating frame, so aware of the other pair of eyes on her that, for a moment, she felt like the one under scrutiny. The halogen bulb above them buzzed obnoxiously, filling the room with a sound that resembled the one in her head.

"An odd place for a factionist." She said out loud, aware by now that Kun had taken his place behind the glass in the small room right down this one. Watching as she did her thing.

"Where are you from, Detective (Y/L/N)?" He questioned, splaying his hand across the table and landing close to hers.

"Way out in the western reaches." She thought of the place she was born, balmy all year round.

The man, Johnny Suh, hummed, "Nice place?" He inquired.

"It can be. Why are you trying to buy abandoned factories on the bad side of town?"

"It is no more a bad side than this is the good. These are just some people looking for jobs."

She stared at the man, perhaps trying to reconstruct him from memory.

"And what about this murder that took place in the area?" She asked point blank.

"It didn't happen on any of my properties. Present or future. I simply assume it comes with the territory. It can be rough to live in that much poverty."

All his answers were deliberately diverted. Her brain itched in unreachable corners. Everything seemed okay but something seemed not. Something did not feel right.

"These murders were all people who did not belong to that side of town. People who would not usually be there." She explained.

"Rich people?" He sounded amused.

"Reformists. The important kind." She frowned, "In the past few months, enough have turned out dead in those parts that it would be concerning to anybody. Even those with a knack for philanthropy."

Johnny's lips twitched, and she had to sit up straight. Despite having seen the man naked, she remembered with a current of warmth sliding down her spine, she only now realised that she'd never seen him smile.

"I'm afraid I was just minding my own business. You can send someone to take a look at the tapes, I can't hand them to you as it's against company policy. Beyond that I can let you know if I hear something. I hope that's all?"

She stared at him, the strings at the back of her mind tugging but being unable to find any visible suspicion to act on.

"It must feel nice, though." She caved and asked the question raking her mind, "As a factionist, watching them all found dead. The chief planet advisor, the official notary's son, the Sol Pastor. All essential members of reformist society. All important contributors to the southern edge system."

"My condolences to them and their family." He didn't sound apologetic, “But I am not a facionist, merely someone who thinks.” She wanted to scoff at the jab, knowing Kun heard him loud and clear. Out of everything he said today though, this one she was sure was a lie.

[fixaidea]

Re: that last post about Xiaoge, I have a fic idea that keeps rattling around in my head...

It's a crossover with Guardian, set post-canon for both stories.

It starts with Shen Wei, on a random patrol as the Ghostslayer, finding Xiaoge caught in a death trap and saving him.

When regaining consciousness he tells the SID that a) he was there in the tomb with the rest of the Iron Triangle legally, as a group of acrhaeologists hired them as guards b) not long before being thrown into the trap he suffered a mild concussion and c) the person who led him into the trap and left him there looked like Wu Xie, but keeps swearing that it could not have possibly been the actual Wu Xie.

Zhao Yunlan is full of pity and sympathy, but for a long while he's pretty much convinced that the simplest explanation will end up being the right one, that it really was Wu Xie.

See, because of various complications the SID only learned about the Bronze Gate with a considerable lag, when it was already largely a moot point. But they DID learn, eventually, and they also learned about the complicated story of the Zhang, the Wang and Wu Xie around it*, so at this point Chief Zhao knows exactly how Wu Xie lost Zhang Qiling, how long he waited for him and what he did to get him back.

And then Zhang Qiling did come back. What if he wasn't worth it?

Wu Xie is only human, not an immortal with an immortal heart like Shen Wei, what if the real Zhang Qiling couldn't live up to the one in his memories? It would be more than enough to explain how the poor man found himself in a death trap, left to die alone**.

Of course that's not what happened. After combing through the crime scene once again, the SID finds a discarded face-mask and from there they are able to track down the actual culprit.

(It was one of the professors in the archaeology team. He was completely obsessed with some sort of ancient ritual and needed a sacrifice to complete it. This was why he insisted his team hire a group of ex-graverobbers instead of more respectable guides, because he counted on them not turning to the police, should one of them go missing.)

*part of the reason why Wu Xie is still free, despite the number of tombs he disturbed over the years. Zhao Yunlan counted his part in the saga as community service. Also any time he gets dangerously close to being caught Xie Yuchen bribes his way out for him.

**Wu Xie and Pangzi did not, in fact, just leave him but they needed to shake off the archaeology team and re-group before they could go back to look for him.

[pendragaryen]

The 100 rewatch 2023 S1 E1

First i wanna say some things in general. I’ll probably do my rewatch not on a frequent basis due to my job and other things that may happen to me or within my family atm. But today i started with watching the first two episodes.

I will sum up my feelings while i was watching. After that i’ll narrow it down to “What i liked”, “What i disliked”, “Fave quote(s)” and “Song i associate with the episode in general” -> whereas it doesn’t inevitably has to be the song that was played in the actual episode. It’s maybe just a song or songtext i connect with the episode or one particular moment or person IN said episode. For some episodes i won’t even have a special song in mind anyway. I’ll do this rewatch for fun and for entertainment - just writing down what’s on my mind. Maybe there are also many mistakes, since english isn’t my mother tongue. But i wanna give it a try.

I really missed my baby-delinquents. And Bellarke. And Bellamy... So... Here i go!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Episode “Pilot”

Baby-Clarke and the watch of her father. So he is dead, isn’t he? Aw man... Why? What happened to him? And why is that pretty girl imprisoned anyway? That is a harsh world we’re diving into here.

Everything happens so FAST! Boom, there are the 100 kids on their way down to earth already... I am NOT prepared.

Okay... Why does Clarke hate that Wells-guy so much? Mh...

Oh. Thelonious Jaha. I totally forgot that Mt. Weather was the delinquents’ destination in the first place.

Finn... I NEVER felt any sympathy for this big mouthed show-off. NEVEr. I see this hasn’t changed much.

BELLAMYYYY! His voice... I got goosebumps. Yes, i missed him dearly... And there’s little O! The Blake’s reunion happens. So much love... Sniff...

And then... Suddenly so much sunlight and so much GREEN! O as part of a shampoo-commercial. I don’t complain. But there... right there behind her...

THERE is the very reason i was hooked and almost FORCED to continue the watch after episode 1. THE very reason i fell in love with one particular character in just a hot second. I shit you not. There’s Bellamy and his brightest, most beautiful and honest smile!!! Omg! Who IS this guy anyway?! Why can’t i look away?! Oufff... i fell hard...

Radioactive. Of course. I am humming along. Very fitting song. Sung at so many The 100-conventions i lost count. A.k.a. OUR HYMN! <3<3<3

The ark and so many familiar faces already: Kane, Abby, SINCLAIR! JACKSON! Yes good. But who’s the “good guy” and who the “bad”?

On earth again: Clarke already taking over things with her Mt. Weather-speech. She’s right though. She really radiates some kind of authority already. Nice.

O in love with Finn... Where does THAT come from? Whatever. Ew...

The beautiful Blakes have another talk. I am intrigued by their utter beauty...

The dorky smartasses that is “Jonty” Jasper and Monty talking about poisoned flowers. I really liked these two from the start.

All these far too good looking kids seeing their first deer - and it’s deformed omG! Is the radiation still poisonous?

The ark again. Oh... Bellamy shot the chancellor? What? Why? What does this mean? Is he really the “evil guy”?

On earth we learn more about Murphy’s backstory. And he already has “the knife"! Oh- oh...

Bellamy talking to Murphy. It’s ominous but OH GOD... the beauty that is Bellamy Blake again... close-up and personal... I see SO MANY FRECKLES! (A word concerning his hair in this episode: Yes there’s far too much gel here and i understand most of the complaints about his lucious locks being restrained. BUT... I always saw the positive effect of this desastrous hairstyle too: You can see SO MUCH MORE of his beautiful face! Even his forehead! And all the more freckles! I wasn’t a fan of this hairstyle... but i didn’t condemn it either. Just my opinion.) They want to take off all the wristbands to seem “dead” to the people on the ark! OH, so Bellamy really just wants to save his own ass, doesn’t he? Bc he shot the chancellor, we know... So he IS an asshole... too sad...

Jasper in love with O. I remember he had been for quite some time in the first season. And the monster of the week in the water. I agree with Rowena @sometimesrosy here: There had been far too few monsters of the week down on earth the kids had to deal with.

While Fox gets her wristband off, Wells and Bellamy confront each other. Rebel Bellamy Blake but OH LOOK, I can understand where he’s coming from! His argumentation provides some things to think about. WHATEVER THE HELL WE WANT. Iconic. But ok. I take it back. He’s just a rebellious teen.

And there’s the first rain the kids ever experience! Aw...

On the ark again: Kane vs. Abby. I almost forgot. I really disliked Kane at first. But who didn’t.

Oh look, now there’s one of the scenes i’d usually skip while watching. Clarke and Finn in the glowing forest. Annoying Finn courting Clarke. I feel sick. How can she fall for such a slimey show-off?

Merciless Kane. Wait... Is Abby really about to DIE here? Ouff...

Bellamy threatening Wells with a gun to take off his wristband! OMG! But no, he doesn’t shoot, he leaves the dirty work to Murphy and the others... Wtf.

Abby shall be floated... BUT THERE’S CHANCELLOR JAHA TO THE RESCUE! Thank goodness... I like Jaha.

Back on earth Jasper swings over a river WE ARE APOGEE! yeah well... Lol

And in the end the teenager’s adventure-dream turns into an nightmare and we as audience realize, that we’re not watching just another Who’s-getting-who-show for teens.... Jasper gets impaled. I remember i shouted out loud while watching this for the first time ever. It was shocking! Nice cliffhanger. Omg is he still alive? He CAN’T possibly survive that?

Boom out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I admit it. It’s not a good episode. But there’s SO MANY THINGS happening that you don’t have time to think about this deeper. It’s entertaining. But yeah... what really hooked me to watch further was indeed Bellamy Blake and his beautiful smile. I wasn’t expecting much from the series back then. But i really thought okay, for this dude... i’ll stay tuned. Wanna know more about him. This is the plain truth. It wasn’t even the storyline itself. It was just for this one guy that i kept watching. And today, i am thankful that i did. Well... Most of the time that is... ;)

What i liked: Bellamy and his smile! The relationship of the Blakes!

What i disliked: Kane and Finns attitudes

Fave quote(s): “We’re back bitches!”  “Whatever the hell we want!” ICONIC

Song i associate with the episode: “Radioactive” by Imagine Dragons (of course ;) )