#people try to describe what its like to fall in love and my mind is completely blank. theres no room for it

[pedgito]

𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 | dbf!Joel Miller x reader

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summary | you're stranded, you need help—of course, Joel Miller is your savior.

content warning | listen. i wrote this in 3 hours, idk what to say. i had a thot and it went from there. its completely p w/o p, dbf!joel, age gap, moodboard is for aesthetic and reader is mostly not described aside from hair long enough to be put up, unhinged popsicle eating, eye-fucking, public-ish unprotected p in v car sex. listen i'm on my period rn don't look at me and thank you for my love, my twin, @chaotic-mystery for constantly supporting my gremlin behavior

word count — 3.2k

Out of all the people you had the chance of running into—of course it was Joel.

The chances were slim, but not impossible. You knew his work schedule well enough, similar to that of your fathers. He worked early mornings into the late evening, taking his commute home just as the sun was starting to set.

You gripped the gas can in one hand as you made your way down the side road, the other hand placed over your eyes like a visor to block the sun away. You didn’t even have a cell signal out here, so the walk seemed fruitless.

But, you had to find a gas station. 

You thought you could make it home, which was clearly poor judgment, and the hair falling from the haphazardly tied knot on top of your head was sticking to your neck, eyes squinting as the truck pulled up next to you.

“Now, darlin’—the hell are you doin’ out here in the middle of nowhere?” Joel asks, the blast of AC hitting you in the face as he rolls down the window, arm leaned over the console as he looked you over. 

It was clear you’ve been out here longer than you should and Joel doesn’t even take a second to hesitate before he’s popping the handle on the passenger door and inviting you inside the cooler cabin of his truck.

“Where are you comin’ from?” He asks, shifting the truck into drive before he rests his palm over the gear shift.

“A friend, I thought I had enough gas to make it home but,” You shrug, waving vaguely at your car parked on the side of the road as he drives by.

What took a fifteen minute walk to where Joel had picked you up was only a minute or so drive back. Joel looks at you wearily and turns up the AC, blasting the stray hairs away from your face but the immediate burst of cold feels like absolute heaven.

“Grab a water out of my cooler, sweetheart,” He gestures with a thumb over his shoulder and you scramble, leaning over the center console with your ass popped up in the air.

Joel assumed it had to have been a pool party, the skirt covering your bottom half doing nothing to hide the thin, strappy bikini bottoms you wore underneath. 

Joel doesn’t mean to stare, but he’s worried that you might hurt yourself, his hand reaching out to wrap around your calf in an effort to keep you steady.

A subtle smirk plays at the corner of your mouth as you reach for the water inside the cooler and pop your head back up, your ass grazing his hand on the way down as you twist back into your seat.

Little touches were never a big thing with you two, normal and constant and nothing unusual.

A hand on your shoulder at family cookouts, his hands engulfing yours as he popped open the cap on your beer, a squeeze of his hand at the back of your neck when he hugged you after a month or two of not seeing you around your father’s house due to college or work, whatever was keeping you so busy. He didn’t try to pry, but you’ve been around less and less with each passing summer—so this unsuspecting time with you, he didn’t mind. It was nice.

Really nice.

You twist at the cap and take a drink of the water, so thirsty that it starts to drip out of your mouth, a small droplet down your chin, reaching your chest and down the center of your breasts.

“It ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Joel jokes, squinting his eyes as he hides the growing grin on his face with his usual frown.

“Sorry, being out in that heat like that…” You take a breath, recalling the bottle and putting it in the drink holder, “I just feel so stupid for thinking I could make it.“

When the street lights come into view, you know you're closer to actual civilization. And, just as Joel takes a right on the next intersection you stop at, there it was.

“It happens,” Joel comforts, “but you were lucky I was drivin’ home—can’t even think about what could have happened if I didn’t pass by.”

Joel pulls into the gas station and turns off the ignition.

“Well,” You flash a bright smile, squeezing at his shoulder—he’s got on a dark shirt plastered with the logo of the construction company he worked for, faded and slightly damp from his own sweat, “you did and I’m thankful for it, Joel.”

“Hand it over,” Joel motions toward the gas can, “I’ll fill ‘er up for you.”

“Joel, you don’t have to—“

Joel tilts his head toward the gas can at your feet, eyebrows raised and hand held out expectantly.

“Just hand it over.”

You sigh softly and relent, reaching between your legs to grab the plastic jug, knowing of the eyes that drag down your spine from the open back of your top, tied just as your neck and the side of your breasts spilling out of your swim top.

Joel knows a snag, just a simple hook of his fingers would send them spilling out into the cool air, nipples perked up under the mesh fabric of your top and—

“Joel.”

Joel’s eyes pull up suddenly, his face flushed but he’s lucked out by the redness of hot, summer heat on his face.. He clears his throat and grabs the gas can.

“Be right back,” He tells you, “stay put, alright?”

“And where would I go?” You retort playful, “I’m sure you’d find me again anyways.”

Joel chuckles to himself with a shake of his head as he departs into the store, handing a ten to the clerk before he takes a quick glance back at you, fanning yourself with your hand and chugging down another swig of water.

“Actually,” Joel pauses for a moment, holding a finger up as he lingers down the aisle toward the freezer and grabs out two popsicles, hoping that would quell some of the heat, even if for a moment—plus, he knew you had quite the sweet tooth, “there, just put whatever’s left on the pump and I’ll use that to fill it up.”

The clerk nods and scans the items, handing Joel off the receipt and he’s half jogging back toward his truck—quick to toss you the keys and the two popsicle’s he’d bought.

“What is this?” You ask cheerfully, eyes lighting up as they plopped into your lap.

Joel kept the driver's side open as he filled up the gas can, watching as you peeled eagerly at the popsicle, the red dye immediately dripping down your fingers as you pulled away the plastic.

“Just throw it on the floorboard—I’ll clean it up later,” Joel notes as you look around, placing the lid back on the gas can before climbing back into the truck, “you mind openin’ mine?”

You place the cherry flavored popsicle between your lips with an eagerness that forces Joel to look away, the sound of you peeling away plastic in his ear as he pulls out of the gas station and makes his way back toward your car.

“Thank you, baby,” He says casually—not all that odd either, he’s got a million nicknames for you, some trickier to let slip around others but there was an unspoken agreement. You never minded, never cared.

He was only ever Joel to you and he didn’t mind that either. 

“Of course,” You smile, before dragging your tongue along the bottom of the popsicle and back up, sinking it back between your lips.

Joel just bites at it, not one to savor things very often.

You giggle and roll your eyes, the popsicle tip just as the edge of your lips before Joel is looking over at you curiously, ignoring the red stain of popsicle on your tongue as it peeks out.

“What?”

“Just—you’re not even trying to enjoy it, Joel.”

“It’s meant to be eaten, right?”

“It’s hot—it’s a cold treat, you’re supposed to make it last a little. Come on,” You hold the popsicle out for demonstration before licking up the side, sinking your lips back down in a show that was more for yourself, knowing how he constantly looked at you—if Joel chokes on the bite of flavored ice in his mouth you don’t see it.

It wasn’t a secret, how he looked at you. It’s been a few years since you left for college and teetering that line, nearing your mid-twenties now it seemed like it had only gotten more and more obvious. Joel’s never made his own advances aside from the one time your drunken state made you a little too confident, sliding between his legs at one of your family parties late at night, pressing a kiss right against his lips that ended far too quickly. 

He did kiss you back though, you do remember that.

“Alright, alright,” Joel waves his hand at you nonchalantly, “you can cut that out.”

You raise an eyebrow, feeling the sticky sweet juice slip down your fingers as the popsicle starts to melt, nearly finished as Joel had already downed his own.

“I’m just eating the popsicle,” You brush him off, “that you bought me—“

“You know what I’m talkin’ about, sweetheart.”

You do, but that half second of lingering pause makes Joel worry he has read the situation completely wrong.

“What? Do you not like it?” You tease him, “Doesn’t it turn you on, Joel?”

You finish up the last bit before tucking the stick into the plastic and back on the ground, suddenly realizing the red dye had stained the front of your top, causing a frown to form on your face as you rubbed at the material.

“Shit,” You curse, ignoring the heated look on Joel’s face at your words, practically oblivious with the sudden distraction. You pull at the tie on the back of your top and bunch up the fabric as you stuff it between your lap, meeting Joel’s half-dumbstruck look as he tries to keep his eyes on the road but also can’t draw his eyes away from you, “what—I got it all over my shirt?”

Joel pulls to the side of the road in an instant, forcing the truck into park, “What are you playin’ at?”

You look at him with confusion, narrowing your eyes.

“What? Why did you pull over?”

“What are the chances of me findin’ you out here? On this road?” He raises his eyebrows expectantly, “Hm?”

You feign innocence for a few seconds before you cave, smiling with a devilish glint, resting your chin in your hand as you lean against the center console, your bikini top doing nothing to cover the plump of your breasts as the press against the fabric.

“Well, I mean—I figured they were pretty likely but—“

“Is your car even out of gas?”

You chew at your bottom lip thoughtfully, eyes tilting upwards in thought—truth…lie. 

Joel seemed set on getting the truth. So, you give it to him.

“No, but I had you going, didn’t I?”

Joel is silent for too long and you raise your eyebrows in question before Joel reaches forward, tugging at the lever under his seat to send him scooting back.

“Come here,” It’s simple. An instruction. 

But the look on his face—the intimidation shakes you to your core.

“Now, don’t back off,” Joel challenges, “it’s what you wanted, right?”

“As if you don’t want it either,” You counter, “you’ve been eye-fucking me since I got in your truck.”

Joel doesn’t even deny it, only waits. A simple nod of his head in a gesture for you to climb over and into his lap.

So, you do.

His hands immediately find your thighs and push up the denim skirt, your own hands resting at your sides as you scoot until your cunt is pressed up against the hard line of his zipper, the denim of his jeans so sensitive against your bare skin, feeling like all your senses were dialed up.

“We do this,” Joel starts, “there’s no going back. So, I need you to think if you really want this or—“

You surge forward, forcing the back of his head into the headrest as you swallow his words in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, tongues clashing with the taste of sugary sweetness.

“Gotta be quick,” Joel tells you, his words lost on deaf ears as your hands drag down his front, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne, the ironic freshness despite having worked in the heat all day, “can I fuck you, baby? S’that too much to ask?”

You shake your head, peppering soft kisses against his lips, along his jaw, feeling his fingers reach for each tie at your hips and pull, his hand immediately sliding over your cunt, cupping you with the warmth of his palm.

“Get it out, baby—got my hands a little busy right now.”

The heat in his words makes your pussy clench, but your hands move even faster, dragging over the front of his jeans and pulling at the zipper swiftly and Joel lifts his hips enough to get them down his thighs but that was it, hissing at the instant your hand closes around his cock.

“You got a problem with me fuckin’ you like this?” Joel asks, a true gentleman, but you roll your eyes. “Don’t even know why I asked—you’ve been beggin’ for it.”

You tilt your head, smiling at him playfully before you lick at your fingers and taste the remaining sticky sugar before pressing them along the center of your cunt, mixed with the already growing slick—Joel nudges at your entrance as you watch, the tip of his cock notched against your hole and your pussy quivers with the anticipation as he drags his cock up, down, up, before sliding in all at once.

It’s slow, but intense. Your eyes close, brow drawing together as he pulls you further and further down his cock.

“Open,” He breathes out, “open your eyes and look at how you’re takin’ me, baby.”

You blink quickly, grabbing onto his bicep for purchase as you look down, his hands squeezing at the tops of your thighs as he admired, watching the way his cock has you on the edge of near tears—a mix of overwhelming emotion and intense sensation.

Joel pulls at your top gently and it falls without much struggle, he bunches the material up and tosses it aside with your bottoms, massaging the swell of your tits under his palms as you rock your hips slowly, hearing the soft grunt behind his closed lips as you lean into his touch.

Flicking his thumb over your nipples, he admires the way the nubs hardered, like he’d imagine earlier—he tries not to dwell on how you both got here, like it wasn’t years of built up tension finally crumbling underneath you both.

“Don’t be shy,” He tells you, “take whatever you need, baby.”

As does he, leaning forward to press his lips against your breast, tongue lapping over the pert nipple before he sucks it into his mouth, drawing a soft sigh out of you.

You lift your hips, in time with the hand of his own that drops to your side to quicken your pace, “Wanna take my time with you but we can’t,” Joel admits, “gotta get home.”

You nod, knowing he had his own responsibilities as a father—you don’t argue, placing your hands against the headrest and raising your hips nearly off of his cock before sinking back down quickly, keeping that pace for as long as your body will allow, shared breaths into each others mouth as he hands travel from your tits to your face, the largeness of his palms engulfing your face as he brings his lips to your mouth again, again, soft whispers of words you know he doesn’t mean. Promises you know are fleeting and easy to break. 

You couldn’t be with him, but you would take whatever this is.

“Just like that, baby,” He murmurs, grunting harshly into your ear as you tuck your head into his neck, his hand buried into the hair at the back of your head as you sink down onto his cock desperately, crying out into the side of his throat as he snaps his hips roughly, hitting so deep inside of you it makes you clench, biting down gently on his skin, “I feel it, I felt it.”

You snake your hand between your legs, finding your clit quickly and rubbing over the swollen nub, and Joel can tell by the neediness in your tone, moans broken into his skin as he fucks into you, haphazardly scanning the road for any passing cars—but he knew this place was always deserted, a shitty road that no one ever took.

Not even you, but today—it wasn’t a coincidence. 

“That’s right, baby,” Joel sighs, head thrown back as he groaned out, “gon’ let me use this pussy, yeah?”

You nod instinctively, willing to agree with whatever Joel asked.

“Wanna fill her up,” Joel admits, forcing you to lift your head and look at him, head tilted down slightly to meet your eyes, “that alright, darlin’?”

You nod again, but coherent this time. 

He loosens the reins completely by then, practically hauling you over his shoulder as he pounds into you, encourage the hand on your clit as he squeezes a handful of your ass under his palm, marking the skin with a few firm slaps that has you moaning out loudly into the sacred space of the truck.

“Joel, please—“ You gasp, “I’m gonna—right there,”

“I know, baby. I know.” He says softly, but the strain in his voice is obvious, groaning through clenched teeth as your orgasm crests, warmth spreading as you gush over his cock, the momentary bliss of sensation making your forget where you were, suddenly wishing that this had been a little less impulsive, wondering how Joel would treat you within the walls of his bedroom, buried in the sheets of his bed.

When Joel comes, it’s intense. His hands squeezing at your waist hard, his hips jerking out of rhythm as he stills you, coming inside of you with a deep groan, pulling you in for a frenzied kiss, laughing at how your faces uncoordinatedly press together, your nose smushed against his own and he kisses at the tip of your own as you pull away, his hair messier than when you started from your insistent grabbing and pulling during the heat of your orgasm.

He looked a complete mess, actually.

“You okay?” He asks after a long pause, his hand rubbing at your back, cock still buried inside you on the side of an empty road. 

“Mhm,” You nod drearily.

“Baby, you gotta drive home now.” He tells you and you know—it doesn’t make it any easier, though. “Don’t pull this shit again, alright?”

If he’d see it any other way you would have flinched, but it was soft and comforting—not a warning.

“You need somethin’, you come knockin’ on my door.”

And you know he means it.

“Okay, I will.”

“Swear,” That was an order, “I need to hear it.”

“I swear.” You reply quietly.

Joel doesn’t push you away, though.

If anything, he savors the few moments he has in this dreamy afterglow, a taste of what could be—but you both know never will. 

divider creds: @/cafekitsune

[coralinnii]

❋ You said what now? ❋

↳ He accidentally found out your feelings

feat: Ruggie ⭑ Chenya ⭑ Lilia ⭑ Epel

genre: fluff (uhh for the most part), humour,

note: no pronouns used with the reader, no explicit spoilers for book 7 in Lilia’s section, reader is referred as human in Lilia’s section, reader is implied to be a first year in Epel’s section, bad cat-related wording in Chenya’s section

Fun fact: while not obvious in the English translation, if you listen to Chenya’s Japanese voice lines, he likes to say “nya” at the end of his sentences.

Will I keep that fact in mind anytime Chenya pops up? Absolutely.

Also, I just started my college classes again last week (which is why I didn’t post last week). All of my classes are dense with text and quizzes so…I need to study real hard which will most likely eat up my time for writing. Good ol’ inconsistent me~

Although, I’m taking History and we focus a bit on the age of nobility and old kingdoms…so maybe some inspiration for my villain/ess!au series (or maybe not cuz history is weirder than one thinks…)

How it happened

Perhaps a little sneaky, Ruggie is someone reliable, resourceful, and fun to be around. You started to fall for him and even that sneaky side of his became endearing to you.

But bigger, financial priorities occupy the hyena beastman’s mind more than anything else. Unless he can make a madol from it or get a freebie, his interest in anything else is seemingly non-existent. It was rather easy to keep your feelings to yourself when the topic of love rarely, if ever, comes up.

So it came to a surprise to you when the shaggy-haired sophomore mentioned his coworkers at a part-time job he picked up in town.

He started ranting about how a duo at his workplace started an unlikely relationship a few days ago. According to him, the two were from two different worlds and didn’t appear to be either of their types.

“Doesn’t make any sense if you ask me” he mumbled, scratching his fluffy head by the sudden revelation at his job.

You nodded and hummed as he recounted his workday with you, but in all honesty, you didn’t share his confusion over the so-called sudden pairing. By the way Ruggie described the couple, it does sound like their personalities wouldn’t mesh well and would theoretically clash too much for anything to bloom between them.

But attraction follows no simple formula. No one can stop themselves from falling for someone. You yourself were an example.

“Love is never predictable, Ruggie.” you commented without thinking, perhaps too distracted by the cute love story of Ruggie’s coworkers or it could be that you’re drowning in the warm feelings from being so close to your crush that your mouth is running too comfortably on its own. “I mean, I never thought you were my type but I still ended up-“

You shut your mouth before you could finish but looking at the wide-eyed expression on Ruggie’s face, the effort was moot.

“You still ended up?”

…Shoot.

What happens now?

Colour him shocked. Ruggie never entertained the idea that you would like him, out of all people.

He could’ve pretended not to figure it out, or convince himself that it was a misunderstanding. But he knew when he saw your flustered embarrassment and your cute stuttering trying to come up with an excuse, there was no misunderstanding. You like him.

Ruggie has a good amount of ego and he wouldn’t downplay his boyish good looks (odds are it got him out of a few close calls), but in a school of celebrities, royalty, and guys with money coming out the wazoo? He knows when he’s outmatched.

To be honest, his brain froze for a moment at your slip up. He clutched his heart which stuttered out of beat, his ears and tail stood in attention like a meerkat. Jack was worried watching his upperclassman in such a daze while folding laundry, heck it even got Leona raising a brow over the uncharacteristic clocked out look on his shorter dormmate.

But, Ruggie is a workaholic hyena. Always planning his way to work up the ladder to earn some good madol. Even if he likes the idea of making a family of his own, romance wasn’t in his peripheral vision at the moment. Not while he’s working multiple jobs at once. He would honestly feel a little bad because he knows he’ll end up ignoring any poor soul stuck with him.

As bad as it is, he might at first think to pretend he heard nothing about your feelings. He couldn’t bring himself to make you go through that, to be in a relationship where work takes precedence over you.

But then he thought it wouldn’t be so bad…snuggling up to you during one of his rare free time. Maybe you’re the type to surprise him with lunch and he could rest on your lap while you brush his hair. Would you maybe rub his sore muscles after an arduous club training session? Having boyfriend privileges means no one can complain when he slides up to your side, keeping your attention to himself without having to share…

Screw it, he’ll figure something out. He’s a greedy hyena through and through

Shyeheehee! Better be ready for what you’re asking for. Once I’ve set my eyes on something, I’m not lettin’ it get away!

How it happened

This man is a literal magic trick, appearing and disappearing to revel in the shock of his unsuspecting audience. As elusive as he is, the times he does show up brings a shock of joy and excitement to you.

It seems that the purple-haired student has made it a habit to join the Heartslabyul’s unbirthday parties from time to time, enjoying the occasional chaos and keeping you company to your conflicted delight.

You didn’t know why but Chenya made it his mission to fluster you every chance he gets, with cheeky comments and sly touches as he leads you away from incoming mishaps such as a stray splash of paint or a flying slice of cake. You don’t know why but the cat-like menace has taken a shine to teasing you out of the blue. Sometimes he would suddenly whisper nonsensical riddles into your ear, or tap your shoulder to then poke your cheek as you turn. Small silly pranks that should annoy you but your body becomes filled with butterflies when he smiles that charming grin at you.

How maddening, you thought as you fell for another sneaky surprise from the impish beastman. Once again, Chenya appeared right behind you, smiling just over your shoulder which gave you and your friends a fright (for different reasons) to which he took pleasure in, judging from the mischievous grin on his lips.

Your shouting caught the attention of the other Heartslabyul students and recognizing the white jacket and castle emblem, their eyes boiled with competitive rage. An RSA student? On Night Raven territory?!

“Ah, looks like fun time is over. I’ll just show meowself out~” and like a mirage, Chenya’s figure disappeared as the NRC students failed to catch even a strand of his fur. Not even when he took a second longer to fade out just so he could teasingly tickle the tip of your nose with his fluffy striped tail.

The students kept on making a fuss, eager to teach the mischief maker a lesson for trespassing on rival territory. You sighed at the wasteful effort, assuming that Chenya would be smart enough to have left long ago.

“Why must my crush be such a frustrating person?” Angry hollers and Riddle’s commanding cease-and-desist orders overwhelmed your tired voice, and your soft words ended up softly carried off into the wind.

But your words caught the interest of a curious ear before it disappeared.

What happens now?

Curiouser and curiouser. He was not expecting such a confession. Though to be fair, he supposed you didn’t mean for anyone to hear it.

Chenya found joy being in your company. The shock in your bright eyes followed by your cute laugh sends a warm, giddy feeling in his heart that he just could not stop. He had a feeling he knew what these feelings could be but he was content with what he could get in the rare moments he can see you.

But now, when he realized what your cute reactions meant? That sends whole new exciting feelings within him. It’s fuzzy and warm as usual, but now also shocking and thrilling. The sneaky beastman is grinning for more than one reason now.

He won’t immediately confess back. Considering this wonderful predicament where you don’t know he knows of your affections, his playful nature compels him to milk the fun of this situation for all its worth.

If you thought his cheeky antics were bad enough, you haven’t seen his flirty side till now. Playful taps on the shoulders become sneaky grabs by the waist, and just when you think he’s gone, his signature grin would grace your vision as he fades into view, a little too close to your own face. Sometimes when he feels emboldened, Chenya would sweep you off your feet for a spontaneous walk along the sweet breeze.

When you’re finally at your wit’s end, when all his teasing and heart-fluttering gestures fills you to the point of combusting in flustered frustration, that’s when he’ll finally tell you his reciprocated feelings, perhaps while stealing a quick kiss when you least suspect it. All to see that terribly adorable look on your pretty face.

Every adventure requires a first step. I’m excited to see where we’ll go together from meow on~

How it happened

See, you thought he already knew. You swore he did. Why else would he tease you so much with his sweet compliments and flirty jokes? The mysterious senior spoke to you as though you were a naive child crushing on their older peer, which you supposed wasn’t entirely wrong.

The way he treated you with so much care and love that you wondered if he already suspected of your feelings and was being considerate to you. He listens to your rambles as though he has all the time in the world for you, compliments you on your achievements as though he’s genuinely proud of your hard work, and he jokes with you with that boyish charm of his. But the scarlet-eyed fae never pursued further with advances with you, which made you think that perhaps this was just who Lilia was, a strange but friendly man, unwilling to hurt your feelings. Were you grasping at straws and misconstruing his intentions?

With a heavy heart, you tried your best to give up your hopes but maintained a cordial bond with Lilia, not wanting to avoid the jovial fae so suddenly (well, without having to explain why anyways)

But one day, when you were walking with the smiling senior, he started talking about a souvenir shirt that Kalim had given him during their club meeting. It was a shirt patterned erratically with various colours and pictures of tiny bats littered about. It was an eccentric visual of fabric but it strangely fits the equally eccentric man.

“What are your thoughts? Would I not look absolutely adorable in this?” Lilia asked, holding the shirt in front in his uniform with a boyish smile, his fangs peeking out slightly. But you rolled your eyes as you sighed exasperated by this man’s antics.

“Don’t you think that’s unfair for you to ask me?” You looked at him with a pout, somewhat irritated at the mature fae you’re trying to get over. “Of course I’d said you would, considering how much I like you”

For a rare moment, Lilia turned wide-eyed at your words. “Pardon? Do you by chance… harbour feelings for me?”

Turns out, he didn’t know at all

What happens now?

Guess you can still surprise this old man. He had his suspicions but for all he knew that was how the youth were these days. He was fond of your shy expressions whenever he was around and he could hear the quickening of your heartbeat, but he didn’t want to assume. Perhaps you were just more on the skittish side.

In the centuries he lived, he saw love in many forms. In the recent centuries he lived, he got to experience some of those forms of love he’s seen, with the pain and joy that comes with it. To him, it couldn’t ask for more as he lives out the last few centuries he has left.

You however, were still vibrant like a freshly bloomed flower in its prime. Was that why he just couldn’t take his eyes off you? He couldn’t help but watch in admiration as you lived with almost enviable vigour. He felt pulled, entranced to be by your side for even just a moment, just to see that beautiful gleam of life (and love, he realized) in your eyes.

But Lilia felt a beat of guilt in his heart. Your life is so short in comparison to his own. You should be sharing your youth with someone as brilliant as yourself, not pining over an old soul like himself. Humans are fickle creatures but he supposed with such short lives, it’s best to be curious and experience all one can without regrets.

He would be honest with you, sharing his thoughts with you as though warning that your affections were better spent with someone that suited you better. It would be up to you to convince the stubborn fae that he was your choice, that you already decided he suited you just fine. All you’re asking from him is if he shared the same feelings as you did.

“I may have tried to get rid of my feelings before, but I’m choosing not to run away this time,” in your eyes, Lilia sees that same vibrant gleam that mesmerized him, almost breathing a new sense of life into him. “All I ask is if you feel the same way”

And he does. He’s lying to himself if he hasn't thought of a life with you where he could steal surprise kisses throughout the day, where he could bring you to soar through the night skies as he takes you to explore the world with him. He imagines a life of silliness but also a life of blissful content as he gazes at you like a beacon of light in his life, a new reason to live a bit longer.

Lilia feels ensnared by love once more, but the burning warmth in his soul is just too invigorating. He’s looking forward to this new chapter in his life, with you.

I do hope you’ve prepared yourself, my dear. Eternal love with a fae should not be taken lightly. But rest assured, I look forward to our new adventure

How it happened

You were Epel’s close friend and confidant, someone who he can share his achievements and woes with. Being so new to the college, the two of you depend on each other through thick or thin and along the way, you grew to see the lavender-haired freshman as more than just a companion.

He has a bit of a temper and is quick to the jump at times, but he was always there for you and even though he doesn’t always see eye-to-eye with them at times, he respects his seniors and takes their lessons to heart.

When he talks about how much he dislikes his height or his feminine features, you nodded along for his sake but you couldn’t tell him that you were actually in disagreement. You adore his fluffy locks that you occasionally got to touch with his permission and his light blue eyes felt like calming waves of the purest lake. Epel constantly swore to you that he’ll have his growth spurt and will even tower Leona in height, but you like how you could hold him close to you without issue.

You love all that he is, even if he’s not too keen on some parts himself

But you kept this all to yourself. You thought Epel had other priorities on his mind and you were scared that confessing would ruin the friendship you’d built with him. For now, you were content to be by his side for however long you can.

You were dead tired during a particularly harsh Flying class with Coach Vargas and you were barely conscious enough to keep your eyes open. It took everything you had to just nod along to whatever Epel was saying, something about some Savanaclaw students?

“Who they think they are, callin’ me cute like that? I outta rip off their yapper for underestimatin’ me.” You weren’t helping his point when you thought how cute his accent was as he grumbled about his day. You were falling in and out of consciousness but thought you should at least reply back to your friend…anything at all…

“I’m sorry…that happened…even though…I think…you’re really cute…”

You were already out cold to notice your friend frozen in place as you finished your drowsy comment, your head landing on his stiff shoulders.

What happens now?

ALDFIUAHLBWAIGLH

Congratulations, you broke your friend and you don’t even remember it. When you woke up, you couldn’t figure out why Epel was as bright red as his hometown’s apples. Epel couldn’t even bring it up without getting too tongue-tied, his accent sputtering out incomprehensible words.

The blue-eyed freshman was raking his brain for an explanation. You thought he was cute…really cute to be precise, but what does that mean? Did you like him? As in like-like him? Is it normal for non-countryside folk to just say something like that? But most students around here tend to mean it like an insult but you weren’t like them, you would never do that to him. So what did you mean by it??

Left without a choice, Epel thought about who he could ask about this, maybe one of his seniors. But he immediately reconsidered when he realized who his seniors were (Vil and Rook will never let this go and there’s no way Leona would entertain this conversation) and turned to the only adult he can trust, his meemaw.

In his letter, he asked his grandma what it means when someone you cherish calls you cute (not mentioning who) and after a few days of fidgeting and awkward encounters with very confused you, he finally got an answer from her.

“STOP SITTIN’ ON YOUR KEISTER TWIDDLIN’ ‘ER THUMBS! GO AND ASK, DAGNABBIT!”

And that’s how you were confronted by a flustered Epel about your cute comment one random school day. To be fair, you probably didn’t fare any better when you realized you let your thoughts slip out.

You may have confessed your attraction to him but Epel can still be the first to make the first move. Relationships and dating are all new to the petite freshman and honestly he felt a little weak in the knees, all the nerves wracking his body like his first broom ride. But the past few days, he couldn’t stop thinking about being with you, sweeping you off your feet, impressing you the only way he can, to have your eyes solely on him like he does when you’re around. Heck, he thought what it’d be like to grow old with you, holding you like no one else can as you spend day and night by each other’s side. All these thoughts and more is what spur him to take the next step.

I ain’t too great on love and romance, but I’ll work hard to show ya how much ya mean to me. I promise that!

[henry7931]

Summer Bod Part 1 (SwapCorp Story)

Tons of people around the world are trying out the latest advancement in body swapping technology. All led by a company called SwapCorp. SwapCorp allows its clients to selectively choose an ideal body provided with what characteristics/ features the client wants. Once a suitable body is available, the client comes in with their body knowing some else will be using it and leaving with a new one.

This is where our story begins.

Justin Samuels (age 21, 5,3”, 145 pounds, caucasian, red hair, slim build) who is the first person he knows thats trying out SwapCorp. Justin describes himself as a bit of a book worm, has a small friend group, gay, and wants to try a more ‘muscular/ masculine body’. He wants to do a 3 month contract for his swap.

SwapCorp pairs him with David (age 25, 6,2”, 218 pounds,caucasian, dark brown hair, muscular build). David is a personal trainer who wants to explore the opposite gender. Luckily with SwapCorp their algorithm matches the precise swaps necessary for their client’s satisfaction.

So now let’s see how Justin is adjusting to his new body!

Justin:

God this all still feels so surreal, granted it’s only been one day since I got this new body from SwapCorp. But I’m so happy with my swap! I love this body!!

I feel sexy and confident with all of these muscles. And I can’t wait to show off my new temporary self this summer.

I was never the athletic type, I spent more time studying than going to the gym in college but that’s the reason why I’m so successful right now.. Started a part time job, graduated early, and I’m starting grad school in the fall that’s covering all of my bills.

So I figured why not splurge some of my savings and actually have a good time this summer.

And today feels like the true start of it. I’m planning on going to the beach with all of my friends and I can’t wait for them to see me! They are going to be so jealous.

Yesterday, after leaving SwapCorp I spent my entire time exploring this beautiful body. And I feel a little embarrassed to admit just how many times I jerked off.

But I can’t help it, I’m just so turned on by this body! Plus, I paid good money for it.

And speaking of jerking off, I’m already hard! What’s really been getting me are these sexy feet.

I know feet aren’t for everybody but I’ve always had a fetish for them. I’ve spent countless hours jerking off to jock feet porn on the internet. Even in school, when I’d see some of the jocks wearing sandals or chacos— it would take all of my energy not stare at their feet.

And now I have these gorgeous size 11s! They’re so much bigger than my size 9s. And I can do whatever I want with them. Sniff them for hours, run my tongue across the soles, I even came on them 2 times yesterday just to lick it off.

Oh boy all this talk about my big jock feet is making my new dick leak. Speaking of which this thing has a mind of its own!

It’s longer and thicker than mine paired off with a nice set of hairy balls. I had to trim back my pubes a bit. I can tell this is a straight guy’s body since he doesn’t manscape that much. ( Luckily, I took care of all that for him. )

But I can go rounds of jerking this big meat! Even back to back, somehow this body just continues to pour out cum.

I grab it and it’s so hard. I take the head and rub it on the sole of my foot.

“Fuuuuuck, that feels good!”

I start rubbing my dickhead faster on my foot and just feeling both touch sends shocks through me.

I lift up my hairy armpit and take sniff. Wow those stink!

I sit my foot down and start jerking my meat. I need to speed this up so I’m not late for my big new bod reveal.

I pump aggressively, I love how much this dick can handle versus my old one.

I go faster and faster… moaning loudly. My moans are almost like screams. I stair down at my fit stomach and hairy legs/feet.

It sends me over the edge and I squirt out so much cum. Before I get up, I take my thick jock fingers and grab all of the cum off my stomach. I lick each finger clean before heading over to my shower.

*30 minutes later*

Okay now I think I’m ready to introduce my new body to my friends.

My friends and I are a lot like. Alex, Max, Will, and I all share the same interests like our education, video games, comics, boys… I guess the only way to put it is that we are 4 gay nerds lol. But I love our little crew.

I head to the beach early and told them where to meet me. I haven’t sent any photos of my body yet so this should be fun!

I take off all of the clothes I had on over my new red speedo. I figure this is one way to make an impression. I run tanning oil all over my body and lay back waiting on them.

That’s when I see all three shuffling their way down the beach.

“Hey boys!” I holler out to them.

All of them look stunned by my presence.

“Oh my god, is that you Justin?,” says Alex.

I flex my arms just to show off a bit before saying, “Yep! This is the new me.”

“Holy crap! That body!!,” says Will.

I stand up and all of them are drooling over me. Mex even asks me if he can touch my abs.

“Go for it bro!”

Alex giggles, “oh so now we’re your bros.”

“Yeah with a body like this I have to get all of my ‘straight’ lingo down.”

“Shit, Justin how much was all of this? Do you have any side effects?”

“Surprisingly affordable and no I haven’t had any side effects.”

“Wow! This is so crazy, I can’t believe that’s you inside.”

I grin at all of my friends amazed by my new body.

We rented a boat to take on the water so we all hop on and all three of them can’t stop looking at me.

I sit in the back while Alex drove, Will and Max continue to ask me questions about the process.

Will even took a photo of me which I jokingly said to him, “hey don’t jerk to that pic later haha.”

“Lol no promises,” he says back.

All around it was a fun day, we ended up getting food afterwards and by the end we made plans for dinner tomorrow.

As I get back to my place, I wash off all of the salt water and sand. And went straight to my bed.

I laid in bed fully naked just gingerly fondling my dick and balls. All I can think about is how much my friends lusted after my new body.

I look down at my hard dick and grinned. Maybe it’s time to upload a couple of pics to Grindr. I’m ready for some real action!

*The Next Day*

I get a text from Alex that he has an emergency and for me to come over to his place immediately.

I quickly got dressed and rushed over. I get to his door and text that I’m here.

He responds, “it’s unlocked, come up to my bedroom.”

I thought the text was strange but Alex and I are probably the closest in our crew so I trust him.

I go up his stairs and open up his bedroom door.

And to my surprise I see a very hot guy laying in his bed.

“Surprise mothafucka!!”

“ALEX?!?”

“Yep! What do you think?”

“Holy shit! You went to SwapCorp? Oh wow you are… so freaking hot now!”

“Thanks! Now Justin we’re buddies, so why can’t we help eachother out a bit,” Alex pulls the blanket down realizing a massive hard on between his new legs.

“Wow! Are we about to hook up?”

“Only if you’re down!”

“Hell yeah!”

I strip off all of my clothes and hop into bed with him. We immediately start making out, we get so into it and I naturally gravitate my mouth down his chest to his cock.

I start sucking him off and he lets out these loud moans.

“Justin… god, this feels amazing!”

I lift my head up and I say, “this isn’t your first BJ right?”

He doesn’t say anything and just grins at me.

“Well… I guess I feel honored to your first.”

I fondle his balls while taking his dick deep down my throat. He’s convulsing from all of the pleasure.

“Oh god! Hold on Justin! I don’t wanna cum yet!”

I pull my mouth off and take my hand off of his balls.

“I have a weird request and you can say no to me,” he says nervously.

“Sure man!”

“Can I smell your feet?”

My eyes widen, holy crap Alex has a foot fetish?

“Oh my god yeah! As long as you let me smell your sexy toes!”

We both position ourselves to wear each others feet are directly in view.

His big jock feet are soooo hot!

I put my face into them and start licking between each of his toes.

I feel him tracing my soles and he says to me, “wait till you see Will and Max…”

“WHAT?!?”

God this is about to be the BEST summer!

[starsofmilos]

Holding Back (Adrian Chase x reader)

Synopsis: You're an immortal. Adrian is not. You fall in love with a version of him each and every time. Only to outlive him.

So I had this idea while listening to the song 'I Know You,' by Faye Webster. I recommend.

Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of sex, angst, fluff, cursing, mentions of violence, guns, blood, murder

"You're holding me and holding back I don't really care for that Just you"

Adrian didn't wanna go out tonight. He said he wouldn't, but the team wanted him to go.

So here he was sat here at the bar ordering a beer as he waited for Chris to show up. He didn't notice you.

The pretty girl who had been working the bar. The girl who couldn't help but look at him as if you saw a ghost. The girl who's hand shook as you handed him a beer.

"This isn't what I ordered miss-" Adrian froze as he looked up seeing you. Actually seeing you. He adjusted his glasses.

"Hi.." He breathed out. A warm feeling spread throughout him. He grinned at you.

It was like something struck his chest. He couldn't describe it but you were..

You were so beautiful..

"So this isn't your drink? I'm sorry call it an old habit I guess. I'll get you what you ordered sorry-"

"No no! I want this beer. I'll take it your fine." Adrian grinned at you. You gave him a nervous smile. He took it sipping it.

"Holy shit this is amazing." You fidgeted with your hands.

"Yeah I figured you would like that one." He couldn't stop staring at you. "Well I'll be getting back to work now."

"What's your name?" Adrian asked you.

"What?"

"Your name? I'm so sorry I must be acting like such a weirdo. I'm Adrian and I plan on ordering this beer again so incase I forget the name of it..Can I have your name?"

"Oh..I'm Y/N.." You gave him a smile.

"Y/N..that's such a pretty name.." You grew flustered as he couldn't help but stare at you.

"Thank you..Adrian.." You walked away giving him another glance. He looked just the same as always.

Adrian jumped feeling a hand on his shoulder. "Dude why are you staring at the bartender?" Chris had arrived.

"Oh I just ordered a drink."

"That's not your usual though." Chris gave him a confused look.

"I wanted to try something new okay!" Adrian snapped out. He shook his head.

Chris laughed a bit. "Alright dude my bad. You mind calling her back? I wanna order a drink now."

"Uh sure sure sure." Adrian looked at you giving you a grin again. You smiled waving at him. He waved you over.

"There's a pause between every minute Feelin' like I need something It's just you"

You giggled as Adrian kissed your neck. "Man am I so happy you came home with me."

"Well you're cute and you got me pizza so I couldn't pass up an opportunity to be with you." Adrian laughed kissing you.

"Now look I latched on and didn't let go and I will never let you go." You giggled kissing his lips. "I don't know how to explain it. I just felt attached to you. Like it happened so fast.”

Your smile faltered a bit at his words. Adrian lifted his head feeling you tense. “What’s wrong?” He asked caressing your cheek.

“Nothing..just happy to be here with you.” You relaxed again. He kissed your lips.

“I’m happy to be here with you too. Now wanna cuddle and watch movies?” He asked running his hand down your stomach. You giggled feeling ticklish.

“Yeah I’d love that a lot.” He smiled at your words kissing you again. He really couldn’t explain it. He just felt it in his heart.

“I know I know

I know I know

you..

You…”

“Adrian I don’t-“

“ITS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!!” Adrian shouted cutting you off. His hands urgently reaching for his mask.

You stood in shock feeling the blood soak through your shoes. Your socks now drenched.

In all the lives you’ve lived, you have seen your fair share of dead people. You’ve seen Adrian die in almost every life time you’ve been with him, but this was different.

You had never seen him standing over the dead people.

“Honey please please it’s not what it looks like.” He panted ripping his Vigilante mask off. “I swear please baby.” He reached for you desperate.

Your eyes snapped to his. Shock was coursing through you but the one thing that also flowed through you was love.

Adrian was and will always be the love of your life. No matter what.

Your hand lifted grasping his ignoring the blood on them. “It’s okay.” Adrian looked in shock by your words. You leaned in your lips meeting his gently. “I know you. It’s okay.” You reassured.

He grasped at you yanking your body to his. Neither of you caring of the blood all over or the dead body in the room. At least you knew in this lifetime Adrian could protect himself.

“I'll quiet down if it's what you want

I understand I'm not the only one

For you”

“So peacemaker and me totally fucking nerfed this guy and then he spit out a fucking Butterfly from his mouth! So I freak out and I shoot him-“

“Adrian you’re literally missing your pinky toe.” You lectured him as you tended to his wounds. “This is not funny to me. He let you get tortured.”

“Well yeah but he also couldn’t give up information so I understand-“

“Yeah well I don’t. You call him your best friend but he could even fucking stop a guy from torturing you.”

“Y/N…” Adrian sighed out. “It’s not a big deal-“

“Yes it is.” You cut him off. “I’m sorry honey but this is big deal to me. You’re hurting. And if this me sitting here instead you’d have a lot more to say.”

“Yeah but this isn’t you! God why do I even bother speaking you have some type of lecture waiting for me.” Adrian snapped out.

“You did not just say that to me.” You snapped out standing up. Adrian sighed looking away.

“Okay…make sure to keep your wounds clean.” Adrian’s eyes widened seeing you grab your bag.

“Baby where are you going-“

“Away from you since all I seem to do is fucking annoy you.” You yelled back as tears welled in your eyes.

“I didn’t say that!” Adrian argued. “You’re putting words in my mouth.”

“Every time I find you I get so happy but then forget how much of an ass you are.” You sniffled as you cried.

“Babe what do you mean?” He asked confused by your wording. You ignored him storming out.

“So tell me what you're looking for

Is it a picture-perfect girl

For you?”

You laid in bed replaying the argument with Adrian in your head. You loved him more than anything in your life.

Could this be the end? No it couldn’t possibly be? You’ve had worser disagreements in the past. Well your past lives that is.

It was exhausting losing Adrian.

A knock on your window interrupted your thoughts. Peeking through you sighed seeing Adrian as Vigilante.

“I don’t wanna talk to you.” You snapped out. Adrian groaned.

“Honey I’m sorry! You were right. I should be more angry about it. I don’t think you lecture me all the time and when you do I know it’s cause you care. I’m just an idiot!”

You opened the window glaring at him. “No you’re just sorry cause you want something not cause you mean it.”

“No I do mean it.” Adrian snapped out. “I do mean that I’m sorry for upsetting you and making you cry. I don’t like doing that.”

You rolled your eyes as he reached forward grasping your chin. “Hey.” He whispered out. “I do mean it. You’re right I’m not sorry for brushing the whole thing off but I am sorry for not taking your feelings into account and not listening to you and making you sad. You only speak to me cause you care and I love you and I’m not ready to lose you.” He whispered out.

You moved aside letting him in. He ripped his mask off lunging for you. His head buried in your neck as he held you. You sighed hugging him back.

“You were also right about another thing. I did come for something and that something is you.” He murmured out. “You’re mine. My girl and I don’t like it when we’re apart and you’re mad at me.” He kissed you softly.

“Here I was thinking you’d break up with me and find someone better.” You teased.

“Never.” Adrian looked at you seriously. “I could never.”

“I know

I know

You

You…”

“So you can’t die.” Adrian repeated your words softly. After project Butterfly, you decided it was finally time to tell Adrian your biggest secret.

“Yes..when I was younger I challenged one of the gods and I lost. He proceeded to curse me with immortality.” I sighed.

“That’s why you never age?” Adrian snapped out. A small short laugh bursted. Out of everything he could’ve said you weren’t expecting that.

“Yeah that’s why I don’t age. I’ve lived through it all Adrian.” You smiled at him. He sighed holding your hand.

“And you know me?..” He repeated again. You nodded standing up.

“This is my photo album that I’ve never shown you..it goes back to when cameras were invented.” Adrian looked through it shocked to see himself over and over.

“Y/N..you fall in love with me over and over again.” He whispered in shock.

“And I standby you as you die too.” You spoke. “I love you Adrian Chase. More than anything in this universe.”

Adrian stood up scooping you up in his arms. “I love you too..I don’t know what to say. This is crazy. Like it’s cool but also like wow. You’re telling me that you fall in love with me over and over?”

“It’s how I knew your favorite that night we met at the bar. I’ve gotten you that same drink so many times.” He laughed at your words.

“I wanna be with you forever.” He whispered out.

“I'm here regardless of the pain

Don't ever tell me to go away

From you”

“ADRIAN!” You yelled for him as you bursted through the hospital doors. Chris stood up going to meet you.

“Y/N! Hey hey calm down he’s in surgery right now as we speak.” He grasped your arm. You yanked away from him.

“You don’t talk to me! You could give two shits about him.” You snapped out. A nurse approached you both.

“Adrian Chase?” She spoke up. Your head snapped up.

“I’m his fiance.” You looked at her worriedly. It was seven pm when you got the call. Adrian had been in a tough fight and took a gunshot for Chris.

You had practically ran yourself here.

The nurse nodded. “He’s in the ICU asking to see you. I could take you back there with him?” She offered softly. “The doctor said his chances are not so good. The gun punctured his upper cavity..”

Your heart dropped at her words. You rushed with her seeing Adrian in his hospital bed. Tears welled in your eyes as you ran to him.

“Adrian..” You whispered out. Your hand grasped his. “I’m right here baby even if you can’t see me I’m right here. I’m not gonna go anywhere.”

Adrian laid barely able to speak. His hand gently squeezed yours back as you kissed his arm. Your head pressed against his shoulder.

“You’re gonna be okay. You have too. I can’t lose you so soon. Please don’t make me lose you so soon.” You sobbed against him.

“When we're old and have to leave the Earth

I'll still remember all I've learned

From you”

You had never once lost Adrian this soon. You were supposed to have a lifetime left before this happened again.

This wasn’t something you had prepared for. Adrian always was unpredictable.

He laid asleep in bed your hand still in his. You weren’t going to leave him. You refused too.

You’d do anything for him.

That includes giving your life away. You grasped his hand tightly.

Something filled you deeply. There was always a part of the curse you were bared that, you didn’t tell Adrian. The only way to cure the curse would be to past it on to the person you love the most.

Immortality was one of your greatest shames though. It wasn’t all it was thought out to be. You didn’t want Adrian to die though.

“This will kill me..” You spoke softly. The second the curse would leave your body, you’d die.

You smiled softly kissing him. “I love you. And I hope you find someone to love again. Maybe in another life we’re happy?..” A small sob left you as you caressed his head letting your life spill into him.

Adrian woke up alone.

[cherrrydragon]

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER FIVE: GOOD OLD-FASHIONED LOVER BOY

← back to chapter list

SUMMARY ↳ Spider-Man and homecoming, when did that ever end well? He clears his throat. “May I… have this dance?” You stare at him dumbly for a second, making him nervous. “W-What?” Well said. “Well, I can’t dance with you during homecoming, so… let’s dance now.” His face is set in an adorable determination. Your heart soars. pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: fear gas (people get affected but it's not described), spiking drinks (not with the intention of taking advantage of anyone) wc: 5.9k

Your mind is elsewhere as you perform your warm-up stretches in the dance studio. Progress with the particle accelerator had been slow. Tony Stark had access to all the materials he needed when he built it, but you don’t. Not to mention all of the welding, cutting and assembling you’ll have to do. You're occupied in your thoughts, but you still hear footsteps approaching.

Victoria. She has her hands on her hips and is looking at you like you’re the nasty chore she’s stuck with.

You raise a brow. “Yes, Vicky?”

Despite all of her faces of disgust when you call her that, she hasn’t demanded you stop calling her that.

“I don’t know why I expected you to be paying attention, clearly you are too airheaded otherwise,” she huffs.

“You’re right, dearest, I wasn’t paying attention. Please, enlighten me.”

“Our instructor has just announced a winter performance. For a grade, of course.”

You sigh. “Of course.”

“We,” she drags the word out, disgruntled, “are the leads.”

Your lips quirk up into a smile. “Oh. This’ll be fun.”

“I will not let you embarrass me, so I will make sure you are a suitable lead,” she huffs.

“And how do you plan to do that, my dear?” you sing, circling her. Your fingers tap her arms as you walk.

She clears her throat. “I will make sure you are paying well attention and are performing adequately.”

“Sounds good to me, princess,” you say, walking away and extending a hand to her. “Shall we?”

She sighs dramatically and puts her hand in yours. It’ll be a long couple of months.

Your extended leg rocks your web hammock back and forth as you think. A song is hummed under your breath, pondering your next move.

“How far is Metropolis from Gotham?”

“Depending on your method of travel, it could range from an hour to 4 hours.”

You have no doubt LexCorp is very well protected in terms of its security measures, but Lex Luther seems a bit of an arrogant man. If he were to find out you had managed to break in and swipe some material, he might not do anything in embarrassment of being had. On the other hand, he is also pretty paranoid, so you have no idea what type of crazy defenses he has.

WayneTech is a very hesitant maybe, for pretty much the same reasons. Batman will already be on alert from your little hacking show earlier.

“Perhaps we shall simply wait for the opportunity to present itself to us, [Name].”

“We’re trying to leave as soon as we can, K,” you whine, bouncing a web ball back and forth between the wall and you.

“You can’t rush perfection.”

“Oh, you flatter me, K.” You lean over and fall out of the hammock, landing gracefully. “But I can never argue with you, lovely. I guess I’ll just have to make due with stuff from the school.” Hopefully they don’t notice the decline of materials.

Patrol goes smoothly that night. You've gone back to listening to your certified patrol playlist now that you’ve gotten back in the groove of things. You hum to a beat as you walk alongside the roof, grooving slightly. You run through equations and formulas in your head as you think about your next headway with your project. You still notice the footsteps approaching, though.

“Which one are you?” you announce, shifting slightly. You don’t get an answer, so you turn around. The figure standing behind you is shrouded in darkness, but a glint of moonlight reveals a familiar silhouette.

“Nightwing!” you hum pleasantly. “Pleasure, quite a pleasure. To what do I owe the visit?”

Nightwing shrugs. “Standard stuff, really. Making sure Gothams latest pest problem isn’t up to no good.”

You chuckle. “That was pretty good.” You sit down on the ledge. “I assure you, blue, that I have Gotham’s best interest in mind.”

“Well I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear that Gotham likes you, for the most part.” Nightwing sits next to you. “Of course, the webs you leave irk them just a bit.”

“They dissolve,” you defend.

“They do,” he agrees, and lets the conversation die. Distant sounds of sirens fill the silence. You can see the blue and red lights from here. You and Nightwing share a moment of calm amidst the chaos.

“Every time I think Gotham can’t get any weirder, I hear news of a ‘giant spider’ terrorizing the criminal underworld.”

You snort, “yeah, that was my bad. I totally had rumors spread about that.” You can see his eyebrow raise underneath his domino. “It was funny!”

“I guess Gotham attracts all kinds of people,” he hums.

“And yet… it’s home,” you whisper.

Another brief silence settled between you, tinged with unspoken tension that always sneaks up on you in Gotham.

“So, did the big Bat put you up to this?” you ask, breaking the quietude.

Nightwing shrugs casually. “Nah, this is all me. Don’t worry though, I’m sure B will corner you eventually.”

“Charming,” you huff dryly against his chuckle.

“And of course, crime never sleeps in Gotham.”

“And so, neither do we,” you smile.

He turns to you. “Surely someone as young as you should be getting more sleep?”

You hum. “So Robin told you about little ole me, huh?” He shrugs sheepishly, in a can you blame him? kind of way. “Like I told him, I’ve been doing this for years.”

“So what’s a young person like you doing spending your nights fighting crime?”

You scoff, “oh, don’t give me that. The first Robin was barely out of diapers when Batman paraded him around.” You ignore Nightwings dramatic gasp of offense. “I’m doing the same as you, trying to make a difference.”

“But no one would blame you for just trying to live a normal life in spite of your abilities.” You’re not sure what exactly Nightwing is trying to achieve here other than getting you to spill something about yourself. What’s it to him what you do in your free time?

‘Yeah well, someone once told me something. Kind of changed my life a little.” You take a deep breath and recite the famous spidey quote, “With great power comes great responsibility.” You turn to face Nightwing. “I can’t in good faith live a normal life when there are people that need me. I have the power to help people, why wouldn’t I do just that?”

You hope your speech passes whatever test he had for you, and the way he stares at you before nodding suggests that you did.

“Just…” he hesitates. “... be careful out there. Gotham’s a tough place, even for someone with your talents.”

You’re not sure why he cares so much, but Dick Grayson does have a sort of a bleeding heart. You watch Nightwing stand, nodding at you before grappling away. It was nice to not have a more violent encounter with one of the Bats (looking at you, Damian). You’re left with the quiet of your own mind.

The next few weeks are a whirlwind of dance rehearsals and lab work. Victoria, true to her word, pushes you hard. She ensures every step, every movement is perfect. You can’t help but admire her dedication.

“Remember,” she snaps one day during a particularly grueling practice, “lean into the spin. It will further your momentum, making your performance overall smoother.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you smirk. Your classmates take notice of the way the two of you dance around each other. You’re sure you both appear really intense to them.

One new development you’ve reluctantly acknowledged is homecoming . You don’t care much for it, you’d rather spend it working on the badassium or patrolling. However, it’s a good way to sneak in and take some more material, so you’ll probably show up for a bit then sneak away. You just have to get through all of the sickeningly sweet hoco proposals.

In other news, you’ve finished your painting that you were assigned for art. You stole one of Miles’ designs from his spray-paint pieces, you hope he won’t mind. It’s a figure outlined many times in all kinds of vivid and bright colors.

“What is it?” Pipes up Damian from your side. Lately you haven’t really interacted much, you’re far too busy trying to make this universe's history books.

“My project,” you reply vaguely. At his unimpressed stare you elaborate, “it’s supposed to be a bunch of different versions of one person. Different people living the same life, one person living different lives, yadda yadda.”

Damian hums, satisfied. You take a breath, spinning in your chair to face him. “So, Damian,” you start, smiling at the way Damian’s face automatically scrunches in irritation. “Anyone special in mind for hoco?”

Damian tsk’s at the thought. “I will not waste my time indulging in such a frivolous activity.”

“Yeah, spiked punch and sweaty teens grinding on each other probably isn’t your vibe,” you agree.

“Then what better things do you plan on doing?” You rest your legs on his side of the table, invading his space. He ignores it, to his credit. He’s gotten used to your antics.

“Doing something far away from you.” You bark out a laugh at his response. You retract your legs and massage your feet. For all your super strength and resilience, ballet is still killer.

Damian eyes your movements. “How are your dance classes progressing?” Damian’s gotten better at conversing, you’re just surprised he chooses to do so with you. But then again, you’re sure he still thinks you’re the number one suspect as to who Spinnerette is.

“Victoria is a delight, as always,” you roll your eyes. “She’s more of a teacher to me than the actual instructor. She’s thorough though, knows her stuff.” You pause. “Think she’ll say yes if I ask her to hoco?”

His eyes narrow. “You jest.”

You close your eyes and nod. “I jest. I stand no chance because she’s waiting for you to ask her,” you grin, eyeing his eye roll. You furrow your brow in thought. “They accept people from other schools, right? Maybe I’ll ask Jon…”

He straightens in his seat. “Jon?”

“Oh yeah, you guys are friends, forgot.” You didn’t forget. “Yeah, we’ve been hanging out lately.” It’s true, Jon frequents at least once a week for movie night. You’ve also exchanged numbers, affectionately naming him ‘please get this boy some brown contacts’ in your phone. “You think he’d say yes?”

“Do not even think about asking him,” growls Damian. Woah.

You hold up your hands in defense. “My bad dude, didn’t know it was like that.” Jeez, it’s not like you're going to corrupt Jon or anything. Then, you slump in your seat. “Maybe I’ll just skip it, then. Going alone is only cool if you’re cool.”

“If it means so little to you, why bother?”

“Opportunities, D. It’s all about opportunities. Plus, who knows? I could be missing out on the chance for something big. Like my rich future spouse.” Damian scoffs, and the bell rings. You grab your stuff and set off to practice, Damian falling into step beside you. You groan.

“Come on, man. Vicky’ll put me through hell when she see you with me.”

‘Maybe that’s my plan,” he smirks.

“One moment of peace with you. That's all I want.” Predictably, Victoria’s eyes narrow when Damian drops you off at the studio. However, she doesn’t waste time fluttering her eyelashes at him.

“Hurry, get dressed,” she demands, turning away from you two. You share a look of surprise with Damian as you step inside. Perhaps this show is more important to her than you thought. You get changed in record time, hurrying back out lest you encourage Victoria’s wrath further.

The hour passes in a blur of graceful movements. Your hands grasp Victoria’s waist as you lift and spin her. She spreads her arms and legs with all the elegance of a true dancer. You wonder if she wasn’t set to inherit whatever her parent’s set aside for her, would she have pursued a career in dance?

“You’re getting the hang of it,” she admits, a hint of begrudging approval in her voice.

“Only because of you,” you flirt, smiling with your teeth. She rolls her eyes but says nothing.

A knock sounds on the door. The instructor gets a giddy grin on her face and practically hops over to open in. You and the rest of the students stop practicing in curiosity. Behind the door is your typical jock type, with a bouquet and a poster in his hands that says ‘Will you PLIÉse go to Hoco with me?’ It’s clever, you’ll give him that.

“Victoria Hearst, will you do me the honor of going to homecoming with me?” Your classmates clap and cheer in awe of it. Victoria gasps, walking up to the jock, but pausing. To your huge surprise, she turns to you. Her eyebrows are furrowed, like she’s confused.

You’re not sure why she’s looking at you. Maybe she’s waiting for your approval? You can’t think of why she would want it. Personally you wouldn’t be caught dead with his type, but maybe he’s sweet on the inside or something. You give a smile and gesture her forward.

She purses her lips, before smiling charmingly at the boy, nodding. The class erupts in cheers once again as the pair hug. The instructor, for all her giddiness earlier, quickly snaps at everyone to go back to their places. Practice continues well into the evening. You get a small wave from Victoria when you depart home, a pleasant surprise.

You end up outfit shopping with Jon the day before homecoming. The boutique you’re in isn’t too fancy, even though you can afford more with Bruce Wayne’s ever so gracious stipend.

“Maybe I should wear blue, the same shade as your eyes. I like them,” you mutter, thinking. Nothing here particularly catches your eye. You suppose you shouldn’t care so much, it makes no difference to you. Besides, you won’t be spending much time at the dance anyway, you’ve got material to steal after all. But Tony has instilled the art of appearances into you, and you don’t want to disgrace his teachings.

Jon gulps beside you, still not used to your random flirting's despite the fact it’s been weeks. “I thought you had a thing for hot pink?” he asks as you pick up some simple heeled dress shoes.

“Yeah, but I’m not going for a bold look this time around.” You place your hands on your hips. “Maybe just plain old black is the way to go,” you say, grabbing a black suit off the rack and examining it. You hang it over your arm, deciding that it will be the way to go. It’ll be easier to hide in the crowd when you look like the rest of ‘em. “Now, for accessories…” you mutter, looking at the earrings on display. You pick up some faux emerald studs and examine them.

“I like this ring,” Jon pipes up. You turn around and see he’s holding a simple flowery ring with a blue gemstone in it. You hold out a hand and he slips the band onto your ring finger. It looks at home.

“Looks good,” you agree. You pack up the earrings, ring and the suit and take it to the register. You pay for it and Jon picks up the bag for you. What a gentleman.

The walk back to your apartment is filled with mindless chatter between the two of you. Nari greets you when you open the door, meowing real cutely. You press a bunch of kisses on his skull, because he deserves them. Jon places the bag on your couch.

“Well, since I’m not allowed to ask you the hoco, I’ll try it on just for you, yeah?”

Jon blinks. “Not allowed?”

“I mentioned it to Damian, and he made it very clear I was not allowed to take you.” You lean in and whisper in his ear, “between you and me, I think it’s because he wants to ask you.”

Jon snorts. “I doubt that,” he mumbles, watching you go to your bedroom to change. “I would have had to say no anyway, I’m… busy that day.”

“Well, I guess I was saved from an awkward moment,” you holler through the door. You make sure you look clean and put together before stepping out. You spread your arms and do a twirl.

“Well?” you ask.

Jon’s mouth is ever so slightly agape. His eyes seem to sparkle a little as he looks at you. Blue meets blue when he stares at the ring on your finger. You watch as he stands up, walking over to you.

He clears his throat. “May I… have this dance?”

You stare at him dumbly for a second, making him nervous. “W-What?” Well said.

“Well, I can’t dance with you during homecoming, so… let’s dance now.” His face is set in an adorable determination. Your heart soars.

You chuckle, abashed. He holds out his hand for you, waiting.

“Oh, wait!” you gasp. You dash over to your laptop, opening youtube. Jon watches as your fingers dash over the keyboard. ‘Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy’ fills your apartment. The song has always reminded you of him. You race back to Jon, finally putting your hand in his. He quickly pulls you close to him.

“Queen?” he chuckles, placing his hands on your waist. You throw your hands over his shoulders, scoffing. “Nothing wrong with Queen.”

“No,” he agrees, swaying with you. You spend the rest of the evening together.

Walking into the academy’s gym, you’re immediately blasted with loud music and colorful lights. Everyone is looking quite dapper, but like you suspected, a bunch of black suits. You fit right in.

You sip a bit of the punch, grimacing. Nobody spiked it yet? You’re surprised. Yeah, this is a prestigious school or whatever, but teenagers will be teenagers. You guess they’re all too pussy to do it. No worries, you’ll do it for them.

“I don’t believe this is wise,” says Karen as you pour some alcohol into the bowl. “It’s only a little amount,” you reassure. “Drunk people are less likely to notice things.”

You observe the people of your school. They’ve long gotten used to your presence, hesitantly making room for you. Still, you aren’t really a part of them. You sigh. You know you sound like a broken record, but you really have to get back home. The last time someone stayed on an Earth not their own was Miguel, and well… you know how that ended.

In other news, you’ve spotted Victoria! She looks real pretty, all dolled up. Her hands grip a cup of punch as she stands next to whats-his-face. He’s chatting with his jock friends, completely ignoring her! Hell no, you’re not gonna let that slide.

You wait for his friends to go away before sneaking up on him. “You better dance with her, asshole.” It’s satisfying to see him jump and look around to see who said that, but you already walked away. He scratches his head, before walking over to Victoria. It’s satisfying to see her face light up as they walk to the dance floor. Your job here is done.

You find your way to the gym doors, peaking into the hallways. No one’s there, surprisingly. You scurry down the hall. You visit the lab first, swiping any and all things you think you might need. The blueprints left behind by Howard Stark are kind of obscure. They weren’t meant for anybody but Tony, after all.

Next you make headway to your engineering workshop. Seeing it now, it looks pretty spooky without the lights on. You walk into the storage closet where all the materials and parts are kept. It’s actually pretty big. You think you might be in Heaven. You set your backpack down and go through everything. You stuff various metals and scrap into it, tools and switches, fans and whatnot. Then, you spot it. A glass chamber, hidden in the corner.

You grab it carefully, examining it. It’s the perfect size for your nanite chamber! You grin. You have no idea why there’s a big glass tube just in here, but hey, you’re not complaining. You carefully make room for it in your bag, hauling it over your shoulder. You poke your head out in the hallway, no one’s there. You sigh, content with your scavenge. Humming under your breath, you make your way out of the school.

behind you right behind you grabbing yOU–!

You turn around quickly, eyes wide. You just looked around, there was no one there! A hand lays outstretched in the air before you. Your eyes travel up the offender's arm and meet green. Damian. Of course.

“I thought you didn’t have time for such frivolous activities,” you blurt, for lack of something better to say. You grip your bag strap tight.

“Who else would keep an eye on you?” he grunts. You coo, “do I attract your eye, then?” Performing a spin, you miss the way he looks you up and down.

He reaches out and flicks your emerald earring. “Tell me why I shouldn’t report you for theft,” he says as he gestures to your bag.

“Because I’m… awesome?” you try. It doesn’t work, clearly. Damian’s looking at you like you’re the very epitome of ‘human disaster’. “It’s for my personal project, lay off.”

Damian steps closer to you, and you finally have the time to really take him in. He’s got a simple dress shirt covered by a black vest. Dress pants, dress shoes, all looking very expensive. An elegant satin green tie pulls it all together. You hum appreciatively as you look him up and down.

“And what exactly does this ‘project’ entail?” he murmurs, grasping your hand and examining the ring. Flirting with you to get you to spill? Smooth.

“You like it?” you ask, referring to the ring. “Jon chose it.”

Damian furrows his brow immediately, looking at you. You grin. “He said he liked it on me, specifically.”

Damian huffs, dropping your hand. “I’m not building a world-ending weapon or anything. I’m allowed my hobbies,” you say, laying a hand on his chest as a way to calm him. “Honest.”

He looks into your eyes for a moment, opening his mouth to speak–

BOOM .

The ground rumbles, Damian grabbing you and you grabbing him. You stay locked together as you stand still, listening. Screams erupt, coming from the gym. Damian pushes you towards safety in a nearby janitor’s closet.

“Stay here, lock the door,” is all he says before running off towards the gym, no doubt planning to save the day as Robin. Way to be subtle.

Karen already knows what to do, letting the suit emerge from your bracelets under your sleeves. You sprint towards the gym, opening the doors silently. People are hiding behind and under tables, whimpering. There’s a gaping hole at the end of the gym, no doubt the loud explosion you heard earlier.

The one and only Scarecrow stands in the settling dust. He sure lives up to his name, that costume is frighteningly ugly. He raises his arms, canisters in hand, and throws them into the crowd. They explode with a hiss, releasing plumes of noxious gas. Hell. No.

You spring into action, webbing the canisters to try and block the spread of the fear gas quickly. A few gasps are heard from the students. You turn to them. “The fuck are you waiting around, for? Run!” They heed your call, quickly finding their way to the doors on the other side of the gym. Scarecrow tries to throw a canister at the running crowd, so you quickly web it, sticking it to the wall.

“You cannot save them,” he taunts, gesturing to the few students that still got hit with the fear gas. “Their fears will consume them, just as yours will consume you.” Ah, right. You are standing right in the middle of where his first cans exploded. Time to find out if your suit blocks the fumes.

A batarang appears, knocking Scarecrow's canisters out of his hands. Robin, the man himself, lands next to you. You can’t help but quip, “I thought such a prestigious school wouldn’t be so easy to break into?”

“It isn’t,” is Robin’s dry reply.

“Well, looks like someone missed the memo,” you retort, eyes locked on Scarecrow. You survey your surroundings, there’s still some lingering kids, plus the one’s victimized by the fear gas. “Handle him, I’ll get them out of here,” you command. Robin nods in understanding.

You jump away, quickly webbing up the fear gassed victims so they don’t hurt anyone or themselves. They scream and trash, making you wince and mutter rushed apologies. You kick up a table, depositing them behind it. Robin is holding his own against Scarecrow efficiently.

A couple of rushed whispers escape you as you encourage the leftover students to follow you out. You guide them, ducking under tables until you reach the doors. You breathe, the only one left is–

Victoria. Where’s her date? Did he leave her to save himself? Asshole, you swear. You call for her. “Hey!”

She turns to you, looking worse for wear. Her makeup is running down her face, carefully tied hair now loose in disarray. Poor girl. She runs over to you, tripping into your arms. “It’s okay,” you whisper as you usher her to the exit.

“Spinner!” Robin yells. You turn around in time to deflect a throwaway can of fear gas. Victoria whimpers in your arms. “It’s alright, Vicky,” you say breathlessly. The last you see of her is her wide eyes as you shut the door.

Scarecrow growls in frustration. “You!” he points at you. “Why are you not affected!?”

A clawed finger clinks against your mask as you tap it. “My suit’s really cool like that.” Thank God , you weren’t sure if it would repel the gas. With a flick of your wrist, you send a web at Scarecrow to restrain him. He dodges, just barely.

“Or maybe I’m just already living my worst nightmare: a villain with a bad fashion sense,” you quip, weaving around. “Now let’s wrap this up before I start critiquing your escape plan.” You launch a web up at the ceiling, letting it carry you up. More webs grasp at Scarecrow, tugging him to you. Robin watches as you tie him up, Scarecrow flailing uselessly in the air.

You ignore his speeches about how ‘fear is eternal’ and ‘you’re delusional if you think you can stop it’ in favor of dropping him to the floor, roughly. You land next to him, leaning down and dragging him with you to the hole in the wall. “I’ll leave you here as my thanks to the GCPD.”

Robin comes to a stop next to you. “Call me corny, but you and I make a pretty good team, no?” you say, crossing your arms as you look at him.

“Do not flatter yourself, I did most of the fighting.”

You snort. “Yeah, but I got him in the end, didn’t I?” Robin shakes his head. “I’m just surprised you’re not shriveled up in fear like the rest of them.”

Robin crosses his arms. “I am capable of holding my breath.” Your mind wanders to inappropriate trains of thought, making you grin. The sound of sirens get closer, signaling the approach of the GCPD, and probably the other Bats as well.

“Well, I get terrible police anxiety, you know how it is,” you say, taking steps out of the hole. Robin follows you out. “Bye,” you say, before swinging away. You round the building, letting the suit retract back into your bracelets. You enter through a back door, avoiding cameras. You quickly straighten out your ruffled appearance, making your way to the gym. Some students are lingering around on their phones, either showing each other what they recorded or calling somebody to pick them up.

You pass Victoria on the way. She’s holding her arms, hugging herself. She raises her head and stares at you as you approach. You pause in front of her, not really sure what to say. She probably doesn’t want your comfort, so you’ll keep it brief. “Glad you’re okay,” you say as you awkwardly pat her shoulder. You quickly scurry inside the gym, feeling what you’re sure is a judging stare.

Just as you thought, some of the Bats are here, administering the antidote to the victims. You make a show of looking for Damian, just in case he’s watching. There’s an incessant buzzing in your pocket. Pulling out your phone, you swipe open Jon’s messages.

please get this boy some brown contacts

why did i just turn on the news and ga was attacked

hello?????

are you okay??????

please be okay

why arent you answering are you dead

please dont be dead

Your heart churns at his worry. You just want to gnaw on him, he’s so cute. You send a selfie of you throwing up a peace sign with the police and Batman in the back.

yeah lmao im ok

shit was crazy but damian shoved me a closet all romantically and then ran off

looking for him rn hope he aint dead

he told me he wasnt even gna come what a liar

oh my gosh youre alive no way 

are you sure youre okay im pretty sure you just experienced something really traumatic

YES jon like i said i was in a closet the whole time

well im glad damian shoved you in there

also yeah he is a stinkin liar sometimes

You chuckle and let the conversation die. You make sure to answer Sam’s concerned messages with the same selfie and reassurance.

“I see you are alive and well,” comes Damian’s voice behind you. He’s got his hands in his pocket casually, looking completely put together and not like he just fought crime. He’s good.

You huff and turn around to face him. “Yeah well, it’s hard to die when you’re chilling in a closet that somebody shoved you into,” you snark accusingly.

He scoffs, ”I practically saved your life.”

“And then ran off. Where did you go, anyway?”

Damian turns his head, surveying the law enforcement as they work. “I helped in aiding the other students escape.” Yeah, whatever.

“Oh, really? We got ourselves a hero type over here.” You cross your arms and bump him gently. His head lolls with the movement. “Maybe you really are Robin.” He ‘tsk’s, but says nothing. You let the silence consume the both of you, eyes wandering the scene. Concerned parents cry in outrage at their fear gassed children. You wonder if they’ll sue. Then, you notice something.

“Why is Batman looking at me like I just cursed his entire bloodline?” you ask Damian, making him drop his arms and look to where your eyes are. You’re exaggerating, it’s hard to tell exactly how Batman’s looking at you with the cowl and the distance, but he isn’t exactly being subtle.

“That’s just how he usually looks,” says Damian, trying to remain casual. You are pretty damn sure he’s trying to signal to B that he needs to chill. Karen confirms that he actually is in your ear. Your mouth twitches as you wrangle a grin under control.

“Well, tonight was lame. I’m gonna go home before the big bad bat decides I need to be ‘vengeanced’ or something.” You turn around and begin walking away. “See you around, Dami.”

Damian grabs your arm before you can get far. “Let me walk you.”

You raise a brow. “Trying to figure out my base of operations?”

“It is late and you shouldn’t be going home alone. Especially after tonight,” he gestures to the scene.

You shrug. There’s really nothing to hide at your apartment, and he definitely already knows where you live regardless. “My hero. Okay, if you insist. But you’re paying for the ticket.”

“What ticket?” he scoffs. “My butler will be driving.” Oh. Right.

You scoff. “Of course you have a butler.”

He places a hand on your back to guide you out. You risk a subtle glance behind you and see that Batman is still looking, but more so at Damian now. You make a stop to the closet Damian shoves you into to pick up your haul, ignoring his side-eye. It seems he has let it go, for now.

Cold air greets you as you step outside with Damian. Arguably one of the coolest characters in the DC verse stands beside a sleek looking car, Alfred Pennyworth. You’re a big fan.

“Master Damian, Mx [Name].” He greets primly, stepping aside to open the door for you both. Damian nudges you in, and you make sure to thank Alfred and give him your address as you slip inside. Damian settles in beside you, his arm pressing into yours. You look out of the window as the drive commences. There’s not much to say.

“Tonight could’ve gone worse,” Damian says, breaking the silence. “I suppose we should be grateful for that.”

“Grateful, sure,” you reply, not taking your eyes off the city lights flashing by. “Though I wouldn’t have minded if it hadn’t happened at all.”

He nods, a slight smirk playing on his lips. “True. But then, I wouldn’t have had the chance to save you.”

You roll your eyes. “Is that what you’re going to hang over my head forever? ‘Remember that time I saved you in the school closet?’”

Damian chuckles, a rare sound that makes you glance at him. “Perhaps. But I think you’d do the same.”

“You know me so well,” you say, a small smile tugging at your lips.

You lean back in the comfortable leather seat of the car, feeling the tension of the night slowly ebbing away. The drive through Gotham's streets is surprisingly smooth, with only the occasional sound of sirens in the distance to remind you of the chaos that unfolded earlier.

As you pass under the shadow of skyscrapers, you steal a glance at Damian. His profile is illuminated by the faint glow of city lights filtering through the car window. Despite the adrenaline of the evening, he seems composed, almost serene.

He catches your glance and turns to meet your eyes, his own reflecting a mix of lingering intensity from the night's events and a quiet contemplation that seems to soften his usually sharp features. The silence between you feels comfortable now, no longer laden with the tension of earlier encounters or the urgency of the situation you just escaped. You offer a smile, and this time he doesn’t have any reaction. Just a calm expression.

“We have arrived,” Alfred announces softly as the car comes to a stop, almost hesitant to break the silence. You step out of the car, giving Alfred a nod of gratitude before heading up to your apartment. You turn back one last time, meeting Damian’s gaze before unlocking your door and heading inside. As you settle in, you can't help but feel a strange mix of emotions—relief, curiosity, and something else you can't quite place.

You drop your bag next to your bed and collapse in it. Nari comes trotting over, hopping onto your mattress and curling up next to you. Tonight was anything but lame. And as reluctant as you are to admit it, Damian’s presence made it a bit better.

You close your eyes, letting sleep take your mind.

notes: i know in a lot of peter parker in gotham fics they have that "dick grayson is richard parker in a different reality" storyline so i think im gonna try to reference that just a tad, since reader is peter parker just not yk.

in other news, im gonna TRY to update every weekend or so. keyword try.

[floralcyanide]

ɪ, ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ ― ᴘᴀᴜʟ ᴀᴛʀᴇɪᴅᴇs

paul atreides x fem!reader (nsfw)

You enjoy your wedding night with Paul in a daring way.

✣ warnings: smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, female anatomy described, knife play, fingering, mutual orgasm, aged-up paul, post-wedding sex

✣ word count: 1.2k

✣ author’s note: a surprise wip! it was even a surprise to me lol. I watched Dune/ Dune 2 a month ago but somehow just got the inspiration to write for Paul. I need to read the series, the size of the books intimidated me in middle school so I never read them lol ): anyway, I hope yall enjoy!

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

based on this song | i like the devil - purity ring

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

You’re standing in the mirror, admiring the off-white gown that flows behind you in a trail. It’s adorned in gold and pearl and fits you flawlessly. It’s the first moment of quiet you’ve had all day and your first time alone since this morning. It’s your wedding evening, and you’re now married to Duke Paul Atreides. This meant you’re the new Duchess of Caladan, a title that rolls off your tongue with satisfaction. Nothing seemed finer than being the leader of your people with your lover by your side. You are too busy in your thoughts and don’t notice Paul entering the suite and walking up behind you. He wraps his arms around you, resting his head on top of yours.

“What’s on your mind, my darling bride?”

“Nothing,” you smile, “It’s nice to hear that, though. Me being your bride.”

The sun is setting behind the cliffs of Caladan, showering the large bedroom in its golden glow through the windows of the Castle. The light falls onto Paul, his eyelashes casting shadows on his cheekbones. He looks at you with adoration through the reflection of the mirror. The same adoration he’s always looked at you with, but this time, his eyes are darker with a storm of desire. It’s the perfect evening to explore those desires, after all. Paul pulls away from you, beginning to unbutton his ceremonial wear, careful with the ancient fabric. You turn to help him with it, easing it off his shoulders. Paul doesn’t bother changing into something comfortable, knowing it won’t be on for long. He guides your dress down your arms and body, admiring the lace covering your most intimate parts. Paul takes your hand, kissing the top of it as he gets down on his knees before you. He pulls off your intricate shoes, the very ones that have been bothering your feet since this morning. You sigh in relief. Paul’s hand grasps your ankle as he brings it to his lips, kissing up the side of your calf as he makes his way to your thighs. He kisses your warm skin as he nears your clothed core. You hold your breath in anticipation, but before Paul reaches the desired destination, he removes his lips. 

“Come with me, my love,” Paul moves to lay on the large bed, beckoning you to follow him.

“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” you sigh, letting yourself relax into the cushy pillows.

“Don’t go sleeping on me yet,” Paul chuckles, hovering over you before pressing his lips to yours.

You grab his face, letting your hands slide through his mess of curls. He deepens the kiss before traveling to your neck, gently pecking your sensitive skin. Paul allows you to arch your back so he can unclasp and remove your bra. He then works your lacy garments down your legs and off your ankles. You’re entirely bare before him now, and this time around, it’s different. You belong to each other wholly now and can share intimacy knowing you’re forever bound. 

“Beautiful,” Paul whispers, letting his hands roam your body, “Can I try something?”

“Depends,” you bite your lip, “Will I like it?”

“Oh,” Paul scoffs, “You’ll love it. I know how you are, always wanting to try new and risky things.”

You quirk an eyebrow, “Risky?”

Paul leans over to the bedside table and retrieves a small dagger, one that had been gifted to him for your wedding. He hesitantly brings it to your throat, pressing the flat of the blade to your pulse.

“How about this, hmm?” Paul asks, searching your eyes for any indication of fear, but finds excitement instead, “You like it, my darling?”

“Yes,” you exhale, letting yourself melt into the bed despite the weapon at your throat. You fully trust Paul.

“Good,” he smiles, allowing one of his hands to slap your cunt, sending a surge of electricity through you as you yelp from the sudden movement. 

Paul circles your clit with a slow finger, biting his lip as your mouth gapes open in a silent cry. You buck your hips as you grow wet from the feeling of a dagger to your neck and Paul’s sensual touching. He gathers your wetness with his other finger before slipping it inside you, curling it immediately to stretch you out. He presses his thumb to your bundle of nerves as he pumps his middle finger in and out. Paul tosses one of your legs over his shoulder to get a better angle, adding another finger. He’s on his knees, firmly planted on either side of your legs, his lean body still hovering over you. You slide your hands over his torso before teasing the waistband of his underwear, which is growing a little tight. Paul pauses his movements to tear off the remaining clothing before he decides to lay on his stomach momentarily to get a taste of you. He licks a fat stripe up your weeping slit, suckling your clit to elicit a moan from you before resuming his previous position above you. Paul pumps himself a few times before gliding his tip along your entrance, gathering your arousal before slowly pushing in. 

“Paul,” you moan, throwing your head back as Paul presses the sharper edge of the dagger to your pulse point. 

Your heart roars in your ears at the adrenaline racing through your veins. One wrong move is all it takes. And it excites you. Paul finds himself fully sheathed inside you, catching his breath. You urge him to move, and he pulls himself almost entirely out of you before guiding himself back in. He picks up a rhythm, pounding into you as he holds the blade to your neck, his green eyes almost black now. You aren’t shy about how loud you are as Paul hits your g spot dead-on, and you try your best to be still when he does so the dagger doesn’t dig into your skin. Its sole purpose is to keep you under Paul’s control; you love every minute of it. Paul is gripping your hip with his other hand, helping you fuck yourself onto his length at the same time he’s thrusting into you. Paul moves the dagger down your chest to tease around the circumference of your breasts. You feel the familiar knot in your stomach tightening, and you warn Paul by wrapping your legs around his waist. He knows to pick up his pace when you do this. He completely discards the dagger beside you on the duvet, grabbing your hips with both hands as he slams into you, his grunts and moans growing louder. You can feel your arousal seeping out of you and surging around Paul’s cock, the sound of it mixing with the slapping of skin. 

“You’re so beautiful, my love. Will you cum for me?” Paul digs his fingernails into your hips, feeling himself growing closer to his orgasm.

“Yes,” you gasp, watching him move in and out of you, “I wanna cum for you, Paul.”

“Then let go, doll,” Paul coerces, his hair falling in his face.

You let your orgasm wash over you in a hot wave, your body going limp as Paul loses himself in the way your cunt clenches around him with a vice. His orgasm follows yours soon after, his cum filling you up. Your chest is heaving as Paul pulls out of you slowly before falling onto the bed next to you. He draws you into his chest, moving your hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. 

“So beautiful,” Paul whispers, and you smile before carefully turning to face him.

You stroke his cheek, “I’m so glad to be married to you.”

“And I to you,” Paul kisses your palm. 

[princesssmars]

practical magick

a stiles stilinski x witch!reader

plot : just when stiles thought he had gotten used to the dramatics of the supernatual, he happens across you performing magic in the forest. when you fail to wipe his memory, his thursday afternoon gets a whole lot weirder.

wc : 4.678

contains : sfw. kissing at the end. the picture for look inspo is fair-skinned but the reader's skin color is not described! reader has hair! google translated latin sorry 😞i like my men loserish and obsessed sorry.

a/n : yasss a little halloween special. rewatching teen wolf for the third time bc idfk. is it obvious i love witch!reader's yet.

for the first time in over a decade, stiles stilinksi was bored out of his mind.

he had previously thought that given his adhd gave him a deep desire to be doing literally anything all the time that the word bored wouldn't enter his daily vocabulary until he died.

yet here he is, kicking his feet at the dead leaves on the ground as he searched for any hidden traces of wolfsbane. the only reasons this had even happened was because he had opened his big mouth too many times and was sent on a busy quest by deaton, to "make sure the surrounding areas were safe for werewolves."

just reminding himself of what led him here was enough to tick him off again. it wasn't like the past two years have been easy, being under the constant threat of werewolves, werewolf hunters, kanimas, etcetera etcetera. it was enough to stress out the most stable of adults, and stiles was the direct opposite of that, so of course he got nervous and started talking over people and pissing them off.

"stupid wolfsbane, stupid werewolves," he mumbles, kicking at more of the dead brown leaves on the forest floor, tearing a line of the familiar purple plant up from the ground and stuffing it into the brown sack in his other hand. once he was done it was likely it would either be tucked in jars in deaton's stash or burned. he wouldn't mind seeing the latter.

its another twenty moments of grumbling and scavenging before a sound in the distance stops him in his tracks. he stands still, making sure that he barely breathes before he relaxes, figuring his anger and memories are making him paranoid of the woods.

a minute later he wishes his mind was playing tricks on him, because he nears the noise again, but this this its louder.

"its closer," he thinks.

he barely even registers when his legs start running. he may have a bag full of wolfsbane, but there was no guarantee the threat was something the plant could harm. and he didn't feel like tempting fate today.

at this point he's slightly lost his direction, but when he passes the stunted redwood stump he and scott carved their names into during the fifth grade he starts to understand where he is, and as his heart beats in his hears he knows if he turns right here he'll come up onto the old willow tree-

in the span of ten seconds he smacks head on into a hard object, falling on his ass and gasping as the air is knocked from his lungs. he blinks quickly to try to rid of the black spots in his vision, and before he can comprehend it he's making eye contact with you.

he's slightly embarrassed that the first thought that races across his mind is how pretty you are. he knows he should be wary of you, but he can't help it. your hair is a rich (h/c), seeming to almost shine despite the sun being blocked by clouds. your skin is smooth and your eyes are gorgeous and big and still staring straight at him.

you both rush to stand up. he holds his hands out in a way that you would calm a wild animal, hoping it doesn't piss you off.

you continue to stare at him. which isn't helping calm down his racing pulse.

"uh, alright. look, i'm not gonna hurt you, alright? i'm just...looking for something..."

before he can finish his sentence, you raise your hands to cup the sides of his face. his words die in his mouth and he feels his cheeks warm up to the point he's surprised they haven't burned your palms. you look determined, and for a second he feels like he's gone to heaven

"convertere et perge quid agas. oblivisceris quid hic vidisti."

turn around and continue what you're doing. you will forget what you saw here.

his mouth opens and his brows scrunch in shock. he never thought those latin lessons he took online and with lydia would pay off, but he's really glad he did them now.

he considers doing what you said, just turning around and forgetting all about this encounter. but unfortunately his curiosity is getting the better of him, and if his suspicions are correct he needs to know more about you.

"i'm gonna guess you just tried to put a spell on me, right?"

your eyes widen so largely he's afraid they're going to pop out of your skull.

"i..i don't understand, that should have worked. are you a warlock? druid?"

"no, no. i'm just stiles." he tells. his guess that you were something supernatural is partially confirmed, since you know about druids and the whole tried to put a spell on him thing.

"well, stiles, unless you tell me why my spell didn't work on you i'm most likely going to have to kill you." you deadpan.

he thinks you're kidding so he eta out a strained laugh. you don't even twitch.

he wracks his brain for a good enough excuse that will save his life before his arm moves without command and thrusts the bag in your direction.

"well, i have a uh, a bag full of wolfsbane, if that matters at all. pretty sure it does since…yeah…wolfsbane”

yours eyes dart from him to the bag, most likely not trusting that their isn’t some insta-death powder that will pop out as soon as you open it, so he looses his thumbs grip and steps closer so you can see the purple herbs inside.

“hate to admit it but you’re right,” you sigh, pushing back some hair from your face. his eyes follow the movement before darting back to yours.“ that much wolfsbane would make most supernatural or magical doings wonky.”

"yes, yes! exactly. that makes sense. im sorry about that-"

"why would you even have that much wolfsbane anyway? are you a hunter?"

"what? no, no! im not, i swear to you im not a hunter. i can explain this, really i can." he nearly chokes on his words at the speed he speaks.

you stare at him for a few seconds more before crossing your arms over your chest, hopefully about to let him explain why he has a bag filled to the brim with a dangerous plant on a random afternoon.

when you start to walk directly past him into the forest he doesn’t think he’s ever been more confused.

"fine. you can explain it on the way back.”

he’s as still as a statue as he process your words. you just accused him of being a hunter and now you want him to follow you to whatever mysterious place your going? even for him this is weird, and he’s ten seconds from refusing-

“hurry up.”

he rushes to catch up behind you.

after around twenty minutes of stiles repeatedly asking where you were going followed by silence on your end, you finally reach a clearing in the woods filled by a large victorian-era house, fully black with large looming windows lit up by warm golden lighting coming from inside. there's a nearly fully glass sunroom/greenhouse on the right side, and he can see from here the varying flowers and plants that fill the room. he wants to ask how a house like this could be kept under wraps from the rest of the town, but then he remembers.

magic, duh.

you lead him through the threshold of the home and down a hallway until you arrive in what must be your living room, not giving him a chance to admire the room before you're pushing on his shoulders so he sits in a loveseat, taking your own seat across from him. your legs spread and you rest your elbows on your knees as you glare at him, causing him to shift in his seat.

"why are you carrying a bag full of wolfsbane?"

"my friend's boss, deaton. he asked me to pick up any wolfsbane in the woods to make it safer for them when they do the whole wolfing out thing."

"deaton's working with werewolves again? does he have a death wish?" your brow raises in confusion, he notes how the fingers on your right-hand scratch at the skin on your right.

"i'll be honest, you're kind of creeping me out."

"thank you. why is he doing it?"

"my friend, scott. he's a werewolf. and so are our friends erica and boyd. and derek and his weird uncle peter-"

"the fucking hale's are back? are you kidding?" a scoff leaves you and you get up out of your chair, starting to pace back and forth in front of his chair.

"yeah, it was this whole thing with peter being evil and killing his niece, and he turned scott but scott thought it was derek who turned him. it was a whole thing. not to mention how peter came back from the dead-"

you continue to walk around the room while occasionally pausing to pay attention as the boy details the events that have happened in the past year. despite you being a stranger it felt oddly cathartic to vent about everything that had happened to him. admitting to the countless times he felt scared out of his mind but had to stay strong lest his enemies take advantage of it.

"that's a lot for a normal human to go through in just a year with no prior knowledge of the supernatural. i'm surprised your brain didn't implode from the stress."

he blinks. "thanks. i guess."

"you're welcome. i'm going to make some tea. stay here," you say, moving from standing across from him to heading to a room near the side of the room, able to faintly see some dark counters and pots and herbs hanging from the ceiling, "not like you'd be able to leave anyway."

that's reassuring, stiles thinks to himself, bouncing his leg up and down where he sits. after a minute he figures you won’t kill him horrendously if hes looks around a bit, so he gets up and starts observing the countless pictures on the walls. some are old, like the people in them are wearing outfits from a few hundred years ago, while some are colored and recent. in most of the recent ones, you’re with three older women who look just as dark but ethereal as you do.

he continues looking at some pictures and hung-up trinkets when you come back into the room with two cups of tea, handing one with a smile to the wary boy with a halfhearted promise that it’s “totally not poisoned.”

“can i ask you a question?” he asks, sipping at his tea after he discovers it’s not poisoned and actually really good. he was never really fond of tea, always preferring coffee or energy drinks when he was in a low-energy period. he remembers his mom liked chamomile tea.

“you just did. but go ahead.”

“why would you let me in here? you could have just questioned me at the willow tree, you didn’t have to let me into your house. not that i don’t like your house. i like the whole victorian gothic vibe.”

you don’t answer for a solid minute, slowly drinking from your cup as you stare into the lite fireplace.

“witches pride ourselves on our knowledge. to be aware of our abilities and surroundings at all times to best stimulate our growth. and as much as i’d like to be this powerhouse who could take down any threat, i know i’m not. if you actually were powerful and i tried to take you on myself? who knows what would happen.”

“and i’m guessing that magical barrier around the house would protect you in case i really did try anything?” he gently asks, not wanting to talk too loudly to distract you from opening up to him.

“exactly. plus if you tried anything my aunts probably would have put a curse on you and your loved ones. something not too flashy to attract attention, but enough to cause great suffering.” he notices your soft sigh when you stop talking, almost like you’re disappointed you won’t get to see this suffering play out.

“plus it’s better to know where your talents excel,” you continue, setting your cup down on a skull patterned coaster on the coffee table in front of you. “i’ve always been better at using my magic to investigate my surroundings. helps to find materials or signs of psychos roaming around.”

something you two have in common. it makes his mouth quirk up.

“so, the werewolves and all the other things being back in town, that’s a problem for you and your aunts, right?”

“yup. if it was just werewolves it’d be normal for beacon hills, but kanimas and a whole pack of alphas? who knows how much that can disrupt the natural balance and what more they’ll bring.”

he thinks over his next words carefully. scott would likely be upset at first at him for trusting you, but he was also the nicest person stiles had ever met. if you could help them then it was worth the risk.

“then how about a trade. you help us with this alpha problem, and you get the experience you need to become a great and all powerful witch. pretty soon you'll be riding your broom to your heart's content."

you can’t help but scoff a laugh as you think it over. he starts to think you’re about to reject the offer as you stare him down before you get up and offer him a hand.

“you’ve got a deal.”

after shaking on it, you send the boy back with his bag of wolfsbane and a few more helpful weeds from your greenhouse, giving him a note to give to deaton so he won’t ask too many questions.

when he returns to the vets office he dumps the materials on the operating table, ignoring isaacs joke about how if he took any longer they’d all be alpha chow by now. he can tell deaton is concerned about where he got the vials of strange red and yellow herbs, but when he reads the note his eyes widen and he lets out a mix between a laugh and a sigh. scott asked insistently what was on the note but his boss refused to tell him what it said.

before he left to drive home, deaton pulled stiles to a corner and told him that he had been in close contact with one of your aunts before something happened a few years after the hale fire that caused them to go into hiding and cut contact with all supernaturals they had previously been helping, including him as the emissary of the hale family.

as he lay in bed that night staring up at his ceiling, all he could think about was you. you were a welcome distraction from the chaos of his current life, a pretty distraction at that. if not a bit scary. which he didn't mind all that much.

the both of you spent more time together in the following weeks. at first, it was just simple conversations by the willow tree talking about the werewolf situations and checking what materials deaton needed from your family. as time went on his curiosity got the best of him and he started to ask you more questions about your life.

"so hit me if this is stupid but did you have any family in salem? or can you like make a potion ina cauldron to see if I did because I could use that as massive bargaining power in fights with issac-ow! why'd you hit me?"

"you said i could."

"yeah but not so hard. jeez, ever thought of quitting this witch thing and trying boxing."

"never thought of it. maybe i should start now. with your face."

"really funny."

(your threats kind of reminded him of derek, but had less of an 'i'm about to rip your throat out and eat your esophagus vibe.' slightly.)

but as time went on it got deeper. as he told him more about himself you started to do the same, once even apologizing for "giving off psycho killer bitch vibes" and chalking it up to being so isolated from people for most of your life. he told you he didn't mind the vibes, assuring you he liked it maybe a little too excitedly.

he could really feel the shift when one day he came up to the willow tree and he saw you, standing with a frame photo in your hands and nearly on the brink of tears. he was so shocked at seeing you show such intense emotion he wasn't watching where he was going and stepped on a branch, alarming you as your head whipped to him like a deer in headlights.

"i...im sorry. i can leave if you want."

"no no, it's," you shook your head, looking down at the photo once again. "it's fine. it doesn't matter."

"well if it's enough to make you cry id say its world ending-"

"could you just shut up? for once in your life?"

it's quiet for a minute, the only sound in the air being the gentle breeze. even thought the comment stings stiles knows all too well you're just lashing out in anger and hurt.

"im sorry."

"don't apologize. i get it, i do." he moves closer until he's standing beside you, walking slowly so he doesn't make you lash out again.

he looks down at the photo and he gets it. its you, about six or seven with a bright smile on your face and standing with two people he can tell are your parents. he can see the resemblance. you have one of their smiles and hair color, the other's nose, and by their clothes, the same dark style.

"its been over ten years. since i lost them," you whisper, your voice sounding more weak than he's ever heard it. "itd be nice if I was staying with my aunts for some sabrina the teenage witch reason but no. i don't have a choice."

he gently puts a hand on your shoulder. "i get it, i do. i lost my mom. every day i remember things about her in things i do. it hurts but its better than forgetting."

you sniff and hes about to back up when you put your hand over his on your shoulder, gripping it tightly. it hurts a bit. he doesn't really care.

"its not fair."

"its not."

"...thank you."

"don't mention it."

you give him with the materials and he's about to leave when you stop him, your hand grasping his wrist. he wants to ask whats wrong but he stops. you're staring right at him, into his soul he thinks, and all he wants is to hold you and tell you any pain he's suffered the past few years is worth it because it led him to you, that even if you asked him to sacrifice himself on an alter for a spell that would make you happy for a minute he would do it-

"this bracelet. i want you to wear it and don't take it off no matter what, all right?"

hey, that works for him.

as soon as the bracelet was clasped around his wrist he felt different. like his nerves were tingling and his brain was warm. he felt like he was going to get the most powerful migraine in existence and reached to take it off when you took his hand again.

"please. just give it a minute."

and so he did.

only thirty seconds of dull pain later and he felt normal, if not better. like when you're a kid and have the best day of your life and return home to a good meal. a nice bath, and a great night's rest. he feels almost powerful.

"hey what is this thing? did you just give me powers? is this gonna make me your servant or something?"

"bye stiles."

he gives deaton the materials after telling scott where he was ignoring the weird look on his face before the boy goes back to examining an adorable beagle on the operating table.

deaton takes the bag and bottles with an appreciative smile, his eyebrows scrunching up when he notices the jewelry on stiles wrist.

"where'd you get that bracelet?"

"uhh, i found it. at a thrift shop. thought it looked cool. why?"

deaton clearly doesn't believe him but decides to entertain stiles anyway. "the band is a normal bracelet but the charms are what makes it special. they're pagan."

"could you explain them to me? just because you know."

the vet just shakes his head and laughs before pointing to each one.

"this one, the witchs knot. standard symbol for warding off evil. its mostly used as a protection charm."

stiles admires the charm, the metal silver with the symbol burned into it. it looks like a circle with a line roped in and out of four points of it.

"this, hecates wheel. a goddess of magic, as you probably already know. symbolizes the power of knowledge and life."

this charm is a bit heavier, the stone looking weathered with a scratched labyrinth engraved on it, a distinct 'x' in the middle of it.

"and this one is..." deaton starts before his words trail off. stiles looks at it. it looks like four combined circles, each with symbols inside them. the two across from each other on the side looking like two crescent moons, the one on the top holding a basic pentagram. but he doesn't recognize the one on the bottom-two perpendicular lines forming an 'x' with little swirly lines coming from the middle on the top and bottom.

"what? what does it mean? is it bad?"

"no, it's not bad at all, stiles. the crescents and pentagram are used in another basic protection spell. more protection for the user."

"and the one on the bottom?"

"well, i don't honestly know what it is. its most likely a personal sigil made by the person who made it. but by my guess, based on others I've seen before, it might mean whoever made it has a deep love and affection for whoever they gifted the bracelet to."

stiles thought he was keeping his cool, but scott made extra sure to remind him the following days and the dumbass look on his face when deaton explained the symbol to him.

he didnt know what to do. this had to mean you felt the same way he did about you, right? why else would you gift him a love sigil on a bracelet you insisted he wear? for a second he considered it was a love spell you tried to put on him, but he was feeling iffy about that. mostly about how he wouldn't care that much.

(he apparently admitted that in a sleepy haze when he was sleeping over at scotts, and he's never wanted to die more than when he woke up and realized issac of all people heard him.)

the next time he saw you he tried as hard as he could to act casual. you asked him about ten times if he was okay, and he eventually came up with a good enough 'just a slight stomach bug' lie and regretted it immensely when you invited him back to your house, telling him you'd been practicing making simple health remedies and you had the perfect thing to fix him.

the whole walk to your house he was on edge, his palms feeling sweaty for the first time in his life as he repeatedly wiped them off on his pants. just like the first meeting, you tell him to wait on the couch and he lets out a shaky breath when you leave into the kitchen.

what does he do? does he confess? does he need to? he was so scared that he was being too obvious and maybe that's why you put the sigil on the bracelet, to let him know you returned his affections. but what is he wasn't obvious? and he was basically telling you he only liked you because you liked him? what if-

"stop staring into space and drink this tea, dummy."

he laughs awkwardly and takes the ornate cup from your hand, sniffing the tea before he drinks it. it's sweet but savory, smelling like nutmeg and milk. he can see little flakes and leaves floating on the top. he takes a sip and hums at the taste.

"screw boxing, you should be a professional chef. i'm gonna need you to give me this recipe."

"yeah right. a witch never reveals her secrets." you scoff before sitting down next to him on the couch. you put your arm up on the back and rest your head on your wrist as you cross your legs, your foot brushing against his leg. he nearly spills the tea over his lap.

he can't help but admire you. he had given you a few magazines he'd gotten from stores and stuff to better show you how people were dressing these days, and while you'd hated most of it you took to some trends, wearing a pair of black ripped skinny jeans and a pair of combat boots. he tried to focus on the rips in your jeans as to not let his eyes wander up, where you were wearing a leather halter camisole with nothing underneath. he can't help but laugh in his head when he thinks of the word camisole. maybe he was spending too much time around lydia.

"stiles? seriously are you possessed or something? normally you'd be talking my ear off trying to guess exactly what ingredients i used for the tea."

he sets the cup down after taking another long sip and turns his body to you, your eyebrows raising in what he can tell is amusement. most people could easily get annoyed by his theatrics, but after your near trauma bonding at the willow tree, you had always made sure to welcome them with a smile.

"look, i have something to say. which you probably already know, but i need to say it to you anyway to make sure you really know, y'know?"

you blink. "go ahead."

he breathes in and out a few times, his previous confidence suddenly disappearing.

"let me guess, you saw the sigil and now you're going to confess your love to me?"

he goes into a near coughing fit.

"how, well thanks because now i dont have to actually say it, but if you had given me a minute-"

before he knows it you're scooting closer, your faces just a few inches apart. you're staring at him with that same look you had when you gave him the bracelet. his breath is picking up and he bites his bottom lip, your eyes darting to the motion.

"can i kiss you?"

"yes, god yes-"

your hand grips his chin and brings his lips to yours, the intensity and plushness of it nearly driving him insane. he doesn't really know what to do with his hands, settling to just keep them on his lap before your other hand brings them to your waist and squeezes them in place. at this point you're nearly on his lap and that combined with the kiss and the fact he swears he just felt your tongue poke his lip is going to be the death of him.

he pulls away from the kiss and kneads his hands on your hips, able to feel the softness of your skin on the places where the camisole lifts up.

"wow. i mean just...arent you a recluse? where'd you learn to kiss like that? have you like, conjured up clones to practice with or something."

"stiles?"

"yeah?"

"shut up and kiss me again."

"whatever you say, babe."

for the first time in his life, stiles stilinksi thinks everything is gonna work out.

ty for reading! had to tell myself to get up off my ass and write at 3am and wrote about half of this so sorry for any dialogue inconsistencies. love you bye bye.

[artydonsgf]

Okay so hear me out. The daughter of a famous tennis player, she doesn’t play tennis (maybe she’a like into something completely different like painting lol), but falls in-love with Patrick. Just an idea lol. I guess it could work as headcanons but also like a proper Drabble or something. I think it would be an interesting dynamic.

anon you are a GENIUS. this is non tennis player reader x patrick!!

The ball soars in the air. Your eyes are steadily trained on the bright green ball heading toward you. Slowly, you bring your racquet level until you’re in position to smack the ball. You swing, fully expecting to hear the satisfying sound of connection. Instead, the racquet smacks open air and the ball hits the fence behind you. On the other side stands your mom, racquet in hand and exasperation etched on her face.

“Sweetheart! For the last time, fix your stance!” She cups her hands to yell. You flail your arms in response.

“Mom, maybe I’m not meant to be a tennis player,” you yell back, hands cupped. “You’ve been trying for five years and I still can’t hit the ball properly.” You drop your racquet, smiling when it hits the floor with a dull clang. Serves the cursed thing right. You plop down, closing your eyes to let the sun hit your face. Turning away from the sun, you let your eyes scan the empty seats surrounding the court, trying to imagine what it’s like playing in front of so many people. Mom described it as exhilarating but it only seemed scary to you. Your mom starts to yell something back but you tune her out, guilt free. Contrary to whatever the tabloids say about you, you weren’t sad about being a disaster on the court. Your mom was a tennis legend and everyone seemed to believe that not being able to carry on her legacy was a fate worse than death. To you, it was freedom to do whatever you wanted. The sound of loud whispers caught your ear. When you turned in the direction of the noise, you were met with the panicked look of two teenage boys. They were crouched behind the fence that surrounded the court, shoving each other. You gave them a frown, confused. Once they realized they were caught, they stood up straight with nervous smiles. You looked back to your mother only to discover she was gone. Great, she’s given up on you and now you had two weird boys staring you down. You heaved yourself off the ground and took a few steps until you could clearly make out their faces.

“Yes?” You ask, trying to mask your annoyance with a smile. Had they seen your awful display of tennis? Now that you were closer, you could tell they were handsome. The thought aggravated you more.

“You suck at tennis,” the brunette informed you, a hand weaving through his hair. Your jaw falls, shocked at his bluntness. The blonde one reaches over and smacks him instantly, eyes wide.

“Patrick! Why would you say that?” He turns away from you as if that motion would somehow make his words quiet to your ears. The two exchange a series of looks, the blonde one coming out on top when Patrick rolls his eyes and puts his hands up in surrender. The blonde turns back to you, a placating smile already working its way onto his delicate face.

“I’m really sorry about my friend here,” he gestures to the boy he called Patrick. “He’s not good at talking to girls,” Patrick is rubbing his ear, grumbling but lets the insult fly past him.

“I’m Art. Donaldson. I’m Art Donaldson,” He points to himself as if you’d somehow get the wrong idea and think he was someone else. You smile, finding it endearing. “This is Patrick,” he gestures to his friend again. Your eyes scan Patrick’s face.

“You’re a dick,” you pointedly inform him. He grins, all carefree and beautiful.

“I’m a dick who’s good at tennis,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Tennis isn’t my thing,” your eyes narrow and Art disappears from your mind. All you could focus on was this boy and his annoying smile.

“Why not? Your mom is a star, those genes didn’t get to you?” He gestures in the general direction of the door where your mom exited. You give him a tight lipped smile.

“I’m not good with a racquet. My strong suit is sewing,” you gesture to your outfit. “Home made.” You do a spin, pleased to see the way their eyes follow you. Being your own designer meant your ass would always look good in skirts.

“I’m good with a racquet,” he leans closer until his face is nearly pressed into the fence. “So is Art,” he waves to his friend. Your eyes dart to the locked door. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you run to unlock it. That’s how you spent the first day you met Patrick and Art. Smushed between them as they tried to show you all the tennis skills they were bragging about. It became apparent early on that Patrick was the expert between the two. He had a stance that your mother would praise and he knew it. Art was good but whenever he caught the cocky smile Patrick wore, his step faltered.

“You got it Art,” you were seated in the shade, your back against the fence, watching them play. He turned to give you a smile. Your eye caught on Patrick, who’s face had darkened. Art threw the ball and served with such strength, the ball didn’t even touch Patrick’s racquet before bouncing and flying behind him.

“Ace!” Art yelled, grinning. Patrick smiled at the display fondly before rolling his eyes. The game continued and Patrick came out on top. The two rushed over to where you still sat, your hands now occupied with a needle and thread.

“So?” Patrick plopped next to you, Art following immediately. You looked up from your project, confident enough you wouldn’t poke yourself.

“What?” You asked, confused. The boys exchanged looks, seemingly speaking to one another through those looks. Finally, Patrick makes a noise that could only signal defeat.

“Your number. We want your number,” he points at your phone sitting in your lap. You raise an eyebrow.

“Both of you?” Your eyes fall on Art before going back to Patrick. They nod eagerly. You stop sewing long enough to gesture between them. “Would joining this make me third place?” The moment the words leave your mouth, Art already has an explanation to shut it down.

“There is no this. Number?” He fishes his phone out of his pocket and drops it in front of you. You oblige, tapping your number in. He nods, satisfied and knudges Patrick to do the same. You hold your hand out for his phone but he instead reaches over to grab your phone. He gestures for you to unlock it and for some reason, you do.

“I’ll give you my number instead so when you’re thinking about me at 2 am, you can tell me,” he has the audacity to wink and your stomach has the audacity to flip. Art has a crumpled look on his face before he smooths it quickly. The boys stand up and leave, wiggling their fingers in goodbye. You look down at the new number in your phone, the only number in your phone at the current moment and smile. Being god awful at tennis finally did something for you, besides putting you on gossip sites. Maybe tennis wasn’t that bad.

hello! tbh i didn’t like this as much as my other writings but the show must go on😭 also it’s obvious but i kinda forgot my tennis terms, high school tennis wasn’t enough for my brain to remember apparently. please enjoy, i hope it’s obvious that this is about patrick.

[malarign]

heeseung as your boyfriend!

(soft moments with him)

contains: bf!Heeseung x gn!reader | genre: fluff, one of them is slightly suggestive, nothing crazy but still decided to point it out | tw! implications of sexual tensions (again, nothing happens) | wc: 1,4k

reblogs, likes and comments are highly appreaciated!!!

other members’ versions: PJS - SJY - PSH - KSW - YJW - NRK

➶ keeping passionate eye contact *ೃ༄

Heeseung is either a very confident or a complete shy mess, there’s no in-between. But when he does feel confident enough he would often keep a long and passionate eye contact with you. Usually does it pretty randomly, like when you’re waiting for your order at the restaurant, cuddling at home or even doing your groceries. He exactly knows the impact it has on you, even though you often try not to let him know the intimacy his eyes hold makes your knees weak.

You finished doing the dishes while Heeseung was helping you by drying them and putting them in their assigned cabinets. Accompanied by soft music, everything seemed to pass quicker, even if it was something like doing your hated house chores. You wanted to sit down after cleaning up when you noticed Heeseung offering his hand.

“May I have this dance with you, ma’am?” he asked suddenly all serious. Hearing your favorite song to have a slow dance with him you accepted his hand and soon you in his arms, swinging to the rhythm of the music.

His eyes didn’t leave yours for the whole time you danced. It conveyed so much that for a while you had to think about what exactly it was. Admiration mixed with joy caused by this moment topped by pure love he had for you. His stare wasn’t an intense look that makes you want to look somewhere else. It was soft and dreamy as if he wanted to tell you: “I love you so much, my dear.”

➶ giving you back rubs and head scratches *ೃ༄

If Heeseung was to describe in one or two words it would be comfort and peacefulness. Even though he has his hyperenergetic moments most of the time you spent with each other is rather calm, making both of you clear your minds. Those times also would include an intense amount of touch that at the beginning somehow overwhelmed you but after a while, you just started to melt in his touch. Especially the way his hand wandered the skin of your back or tangled in your hair while scratching your scalp helped you just instantly fall asleep, no matter what time of the day it was.

“Hi baby,” he said after you plopped next to him on the couch. You immediately found your favorite spot, by laying on top of him and burying your face in the crook of his neck, earning a breathy laugh from him. “How was your day, baby?”

“Tiring,” you mumbled, voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

You hummed in satisfaction as his hand went under your shirt to rub your back. Smiling to yourself you listened to his comforting words.

“You always work so hard, and I’m proud of you,” he spoke and pecked your hairline lovingly.

“I love you, Hee,” you confessed. “You always make me feel so loved.”

“Well, I’m glad, because I love you so much, my big baby.”

➶ laying his head on yours *ೃ༄

For some reason, Heeseung seems like a guy who loves touch that involves the head. Patting his partner's head, playing with each other's locks, brushing fingers through them, trying new hairstyles. All of them bring come different kinds of comfort that he can’t explain. Whenever you just hang out and sit next to each other, either sitting at the bus stop or in a cafe, he just lays his head on top of yours, bonus points if you just lean on his shoulder. The comfort of this position makes his heart feel at ease.

The business of people working in a coffee shop and the soft chatter of its customers surrounded you. The fuss didn’t bother any of you, as you just comfortably sipped on your beverages, sitting next to each other in the corner, having a perfect view of the whole cafe.

You laid your head on his shoulder, and soon he followed your action, his head landing on yours.

“Can I try yours?” Heeseung suddenly asked pointing to your drink and lifting his head. You just handed him the cup without saying a word. You waited for his reaction and looked up at him, noticing how his adam’s apple raised as he sipped. He hummed at the delicious taste of your order and handed it back to you. “I like it,” he said and his head once again laid on yours.

➶ sharing earphones *ೃ༄

Sharing the same or at least very similar music taste is for Heeseung a true game changer when it comes to relationships. Music plays an important part in his life, not only as a singer or dancer but as a person who just listens to it 24/7. Seeing him with earphones is natural, just like the fact that he doesn’t often share them with anybody. Anybody but you. Whenever he sees you while he’s listening to some music through earphones, he just makes you walk with him handing you one of them.

The rain poured hard, raindrops hitting the bus’s windows with strong impact. Behind it, you spotted a few people running to nearby stores to hide from it, while all your fellow passengers quietly observed the situation. Since some parts of the city were flooded, roads were full of cars and other buses that didn’t seem to move any minute.

Your thoughts were stopped when you noticed Heeseung handing you one of his wired earphones. Without saying a word you looked at him and put it in your right ear while he did the same. You peeked at his phone to see what he was about to play. You smiled at his choice, perfect for weather like tonight.

Leaning on his shoulder you closed your eyes, feeling his hands gently playing with your fingers. His touch along with relaxing rain and music sounds made you sleepy, you didn’t even realize when you dozed off.

➶ pulling you closer by your waist *ೃ༄ | slightly suggestive

What brings an indefinite amount of joy to his heart is seeing you all smiley or shy. Testing your reactions to different types of skin ship he finally found a perfect way to make your heart flutter as well as his, which was pulling you closer by your waist. Throughout your whole relationship, he did it so often that it became a casual way of him saying a whole bunch of different confessions, from “You’re so beautiful”, “I love you so much” and in specific moments “I want you so badly”.

Getting final touch-ups to your makeup you made your way to the living room where Heeseung waited for you, ready for your date night. The moment he saw you he couldn’t contain his smile, eyeing you up and down, making you shy. He stood up and in a swift motion pulled you closer by your waist. Your bodies clasped together and you tried to hold eye contact with him as long as you could.

“It should be illegal to look like this,” he said in a flirty tone.

“Like what?” you played along but he didn’t respond and just pulled you closer to kiss you passionately.

His lips were soft in contrary to the rough kiss. His hands wandered on your sides and hips as you tangled your fingers in his locks. Before it led to something more you pulled out earning a frown and unconscious pout on his lips.

“Let’s go,” you spoke innocently and took his hand in yours.

“Y/n, I swear to God, you’ll be the death of me.”

➶ making playlists with songs that remind him of you *ೃ༄

Just like I stated, Heeseung truly believes his whole life depends on and relies on the music. You could even say that music is somehow his default love language. He enjoys dancing, singing and just vibing to his favorite songs with you. What he does when he misses you or finds an album that he thinks you would like or just reminds him of you is just add it to a playlist with your initials as a title. Sometimes he forgets himself and spends the whole afternoon picking perfect matches before finally sending you a link to them.

“What are you doing?” you popped on the couch next to your boyfriend, who was busy the whole evening with his phone.

Curiosity killed you and you couldn’t stand it any more so you took a look at his phone and the view didn’t surprise you that much.

“Another one?” you asked smiling at the sight of another playlist named after you.

Heeseung just turned his head to face you, showing you the purest smile ever, a short peck on the corner of your lips following that.

“You’re gonna love this one, even more than the last one,” he spoke shaking his head, proud of his song choice.

You leaned your head on his shoulder and stole a sneaky peak at his phone once again. This time he hid it from you and sent you a playful look.

“Oh nah, you have to wait until I sent it to you to find out what’s there,” he spoke and wagged his finger at you.

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

permanent taglist: (send an ask to be added) @nicholasluvbot, @en-chantedtomeetyou, @kpopstanmeg, @skzenhalove, @nfrgirl, @edensgardenn (in bold can’t be tagged)

[paradoxbeta]

what do you think the ancients looked like under their masks?

ANON THANK YOU FOR ASKING I COULD CRY TEARS OF JOY

The short answer: Human-like, but dubiously. Very colorful, ornate, and diverse. Heavy on body modification: piercings, implants, tubes of all sorts, and dramatic face/eye changes are everywhere. It's hard to describe one thing they all are, because they're each so different.

The long answer: (my ocs are here!)

Okay, so, important bare minimums: They can have pretty much any skin tone, and come in all of the patterns and markings you can think of (whether they were born with them or had them added.) The default Ancient eye is exactly like a humans, but people can and often do get changes to their pupils and sclera/eye color. They have "hair" that sort of looks like worm grass. I figure some kinda splatoon inkling type logic applies when taking into mind haircuts and buzzes and all that. They generally have elven, goat-like, or other non-human type ears. Most if not all of them have openings in their bodies for tubes a la cyberpunk, because Ancient fashion gonna Ancient fashion.

Now for the fun/personalized part. Their faces!

Ancients come in a range from the most humanoid to the least. Note that "animaloid" is an EXTREMELY nebulous term and not exclusive to the one shown in the picture. I'm not yet sure how something like this would come about. I like to think this is a result of generations upon generations of extreme genome modification, or "animaloid" Ancients are a subspecies/branch off of whatever the humanoid Ancients are, OR they're the same species, but just have an insane amount of genetic variation. This is an issue for me to figure out another time. Regardless, there is no strict line between what constitutes an animaloid and what constitutes a humanoid. Both are bipedal and have a variable amount of pectorals/arms,* with the primary differences being in the face. There are some Ancients that you can look at and immediately classify as one of the two, but most of them fall somewhere in between, like "humanoid" Ancients with exaggerated facial proportions or "animaloid" Ancients that are just close enough to human looking that it becomes difficult to put a label on it. Trying to classify individual Ancients is often a fruitless endeavor, but having the general spectrum in mind is important.

*Can have 1-2 pairs of each: note that an Ancient with one pair of arms may have 2 pairs of pectorals but an Ancient with 2 pairs of arms cannot have only 1 pectoral set. Ancients with 2 pairs of arms are rare.

As mentioned a million times prior, Ancients are super gung ho about body modification, and things we deem extreme in human society are probably only uncommon or even unremarkable in Ancient society. Obviously, not every Ancient is making themselves into the next Rolf Buchholz. Some are more conservative about changing their body, some are more extreme. But the general idea is that not having ANY sort of change made, be it as minute as an ear piercing or as dramatic as horn implants, is bizarre.

I know there's other possible takes on the Ancients that are much more separated from human aesthetics, and I love those! But I wasn't really concerned about the spec bio-y aspect this time around. I have enough alien aliens in my roster already, so my Ancients are entirely a product of me having fun without much concern for making them super believable. Hopefully they look cool enough for that to be a valid excuse.

And finally, some pictures of my Ancients, because it's hard to get the full scope without examples. Some of these are from wips I hope to post someday, so you might see them again later. Also I'm trying to format them all nice and next to each other so they don't take up so much space, but tumblr is losing its mind right now so if it doesn't format right then whoops.

[axelsagewrites]

Absolutely love your writing would you mind doing another Robb Stark one where it’s kind like the Brienne Of Tarth one where y/n is Robert and Cersi daughter very nice and innocent and it an arranged marriage but they fall in love but this is set just when they meet and the royals arrive in winter fell and they’ve had a couple of conversations and maybe it’s their engagement party and y/n very overwhelmed so she goes outside and Robb follows her out worried. She’s nervous for the bedding ceremony cause Cersi has filled her head with these horrors of what it’s like wanting to protect her daughter in her own way so y/n is very clueless when it comes to anything concerning sex and being intimate.Y/n asks if they can kiss now so it’s like their first moment on their own without people watching them and he agrees and it’s starts off innocent but all y/n knows is that she likes kissing Robb and the way it feels so she just lets herself get lost in the moment as does Robb but when he gets a bit ‘exited’ he had to stop her wanting to be honourable to her but she’s like confused and Robb promises he’ll explain and show her when they r married so like kind of smutty as kissing can be a fluffy ending 💕

Robb Stark*Sweet Girl

Pairing: Robb x Baratheon F!Reader

Warnings: talks of sex, suggested assault, Cersei being herself

Word count: 4129

Masterlist Here

Everything was about to change. And if your mother was right then this was then Winterfell could have been a fate worse than death. For years your father told you stories from his life. In near everyone he would bring up the same name. Ned Stark. His brother in spirit, almost in marriage. The way your father spoke about Lynna was so beautiful that it almost made you forget he had a wife. His stories of the Starks were filled with honour and pride and love. When your father had first brought up the betrothal between you and Robb Stark for the rest of dinner you were excited. Then your mother invited you to her chambers for tea.

She poured it in silence before dismissing the maids and servants with a silent wave of her hand. The smile she wore was filled with sadness, anger, and a hint of love. Your mother tried to love you, she tried to love all her children, she just didn’t know how. The thing she always did was try and protect you, however.

The silence clung to the room like fog. Raising the cup to your lips, you took a small sip of the strong-smelling tea with a forced smile. “The teas lovely. Thank you, mother,”

Cersei smiled, not even picking up her own cup, “You have always been a sweet child,” You smiled at the compliment, but it was replaced with confusion as your mother continued, “Its one of my biggest regrets. My sweet girl you are to be married,” Cersei took your hands as your stomach bubbled with a mix of emotions, “And it is time you learned the truth of it all,”

“Your husband will not love you. he may like you; he could try love you, but he won’t,” as she spoke you felt your heart shatter in your chest, “The only ones you can count to love you are your children,” Cerci placed a hand over yours, but it was cold. “My sweet girl marriage is our war, and we fight the battles every day,” You knew there was no love lost between your parents but to hear her so crudely describe your future made the floor spin, “Sadly you’ve already bled but we’ll discuss the…details of what comes after another day,”

“What details?” you pressed.

Cerci sighed and looked off to the ceiling, “Men want one thing darling,”

“What do they want?” you asked, still clueless to what she was implying, “The septas always said I was a quick study, I can learn.”

Her hand dropped from yours with a hollow chuckle, “Oh sweet girl. Sweet, sweet girl. You really don’t know what you’re in for,”

You were to leave for Winterfell in less than a week and the whole week you spent listening into the whispers of lady’s gossip. It was also around this time you began to listen to how the men spoke. It made your skin crawl. Whenever you were in front of your father or siblings you did your best to seem happy for the wedding. You tried your best to be happy yourself. But your mothers’ words flashed over your mind every night. Maybe Robb would be different?

Travelling with your mother didn’t help much since she continued to tell you tales. She told you how to dress, how to act, how to conceal marks, how to flirt, how to act interested, how to lie. When you tried to ask how the deed was done, she did not have the heart to teach you. “Just lay their sweetheart. He’ll do the rest. Just don’t let him hear you cry,”

When you arrived at Winterfell all the joy you felt when your father first told you of the marriage was long gone. Despite this you tried you best to at least look happy. Maybe your mother was wrong after all. Anything was better than being trapped in this stuffy carriage for even another day. Clambering out of that carriage cage was like seeing sunlight for the first time.

The sight of people other than your mother and siblings made a smile appear on your face that for once wasn’t forced. Tommen clung to your side as your mother approached the Starks. Tommen tugged at your sleeve, and you pulled your gaze away from the tall walls of Winterfell to crouch down to him. “Which one are you marrying?” he whispered.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his words. “Take a guess,” you whispered back, still crouched, as you finally looked at the row of Stark children. You knew which one was Robb in an instant. He had gorgeous curly hair and blue eyes you could see from even this distant. The clean shave showed off his strong jaw and even under the fur you could tell he was strong. Tommen’s eyes scanned the children before he sheepishly pointed to Robb. “What a clever little prince,” you whispered, ruffling his hair as you stood. A proud smile fell on his face causing you to grin.

When you looked up from your brother you noticed the piercing blue eyes were now on you. you felt yourself flush at his gaze and quickly turned your attention elsewhere. It didn’t last long as your father soon excited the courtyard with the lord of Winterfell. “Perhaps its time the children finally long met,” You heard Catelyn Tully say.

She seemed kind despite the Norths reputation for harshness. Your mother had drilled it into you recently that looks could be deceiving, however. You tried to ignore how your stomach flipped as your mother silent nodded before approaching your siblings. She merely gestured her head at you before disappearing to talk to Uncle Jamie.

Taking a deep breath, you took Tommen and Marcellas hands and led them over to the Starks. Joffrey was dragging his feet behind you, and you knew he would be no help in this awkward introduction. “Lady Stark,” you greeted with a bow.

“Your graces,” she said, bowing further down. The children did the same.

When a couple moments passed you cringed before realising you had yet to tell them to stand. You quickly gestured for them to do so, glancing behind to look for your mother who had likely disappeared to find a case of wine. “Lady Stark I-,” you paused, glancing at the expecting looks before whispering, “I have no idea what im supposed to do in all honesty,”

The laugh she let out warmed your cheeks but the chuckle you heard from Robb made your stomach flutter. It was deep and hearty and made your skin tingle, “Its alright sweet girl,” Catelyn said, taking your hand, “Its an honour to have you here,”

“The honours your grace. I’ve never seen a more beautiful castle,” Joffrey scoffed at your words, and you turned to glare at the snotty boy who quickly shrunk under your look. “My siblings,” you tried to return to polite conversation, “Joffrey, Tommen, and Marcella, and I are grateful for your hospitality. Perhaps Tommen and Bran I believe would make good play mates. Marcella and Sansa and Arya as well of course. I did get the names, right?” you asked.

Catelyn smiled a wide motherly smile, “Yes, my dear. Then I also have my youngest Rickon,” she said gesturing to the small boy clung to her furs, “and my eldest, Robb,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Robb looked even more handsome up closely, a fact that made it hard not to flush red.  “Princess,” Robb bowed his head as he reached his hand out. You paused for a moment before quickly realising he was reaching for yours.

“Sorry,” you muttered, now sure you were blushing, before quickly reaching your hand out. Robb chuckled again as he took your hand and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. His lips on your skin made a shiver go up your spine. “We meet at last,” you said with an awkward smile. The warm smile that spread on his perfect lips made you internally die at how dumb his looks alone had rendered you.

You quickly moved your attention onto the next Stark, begging silently for your awkwardness to fade. You could feel Robbs eyes on you, but you didn’t yet know how your forgetfulness and sincerity had charmed him. Robb struggled in fact to keep his attention off you since your arrival.

Tommen and Bran had indeed got on well, a fact you were proud to have predicted. It surprised you slightly that Arya played more with Bran and Tommen than Sansa and Marcella, but you were just happy to watch the children get along. Joffrey was likely off tormenting or gloating while Sansa and Marcella had stayed inside to learn embroidery. Tommen and Bran practised pretend swords in the courtyard while you sat a few feet away watching on a bench.

You clapped as Tommen finally began to get a hang of the glorified stick and grinned at his dopey smile. “Who’s winning?” a thick northern accent said from behind you.

Jumping slightly, you turned to see Robb had approached you without you even realising. “I’d like to say Tommen,” you said lowly, “but that’d make me a liar,” you grinned. Robbs laugh still made your heart flutter after your first week in Winterfell. “Would you like to join me?” you asked.

“It would be my honour princess,” Robb said before joining you on the bench with a small smile.

You laughed lightly, “You don’t have to call me that,”

“I kinda do,” he chuckled.

“Well as your princess im ordering you not to,”

“Is that so?” Robb laughed at your fake seriousness, “What happens if I do? Will you poke me with a pin?”

You thought for a moment before grinning “I’ll get Tommen to duel you,”

As you said this Tommen was struggling to even swing the wooden sword he had. “You’re cruel,” his laugh warm as he watched your brother’s spar.

“The cruellest,” you grinned. “Its my reputation. Everyone at Kingslanding fears me,”

Robb couldn’t control his laughs, but you couldn’t help yourself from joining in, “No offence princess but I don’t think you could scare a fly,” you gently stomped your foot on his, “Hey!”

“I told you not to call me that,” you fake glared at him.

Robb held his hands up in fake surrender. “I take it back. Very frightening. My shoe is terrified,” the dopey smile he wore was far better than the serious face that had first greeted you. Robb looked out to where the boys practised. “I could teach him if you’d like,”

“Would you?” You asked, grabbing his arm without thinking, “Joffrey teases him horribly and it makes him not want to try. Before we left, he could hardly hold it let alone spar. He would only practise with me in private and im afraid im not a very good teacher,”

“You can use a sword?” Robb asked, eyebrow raised.

“Not very well,” you grinned, which was partly a lie. You could use one, but you were no Jamie Lannister.

Robb grinned, “Well after I teach Tommen maybe I could teach you,”

“Maybe you could,” you said with a small smile. Robb grinned before getting up and joining the boys. You bit your lip as you watched how careful he was with Tommen as he taught him how to swing the sword. For a moment you couldn’t help but imagine what Robb would be like with his own son. Your son.

You clapped as the boys sparred, laughed as they failed and succeeded, smiled the whole time. the perfect afternoon. Robb bid you farewell when you had to leave to prepare for dinner.

When you arrived at your chambers it wasn’t long until your mother arrived. “Go,” she told the maids as she snatched the hairbrush from them, “I’ll be doing her hair,” she smiled at you in the mirror, and you did your best to smile back as she began to brush it. “I hear you and the Stark boy had fun today,”

“He taught Tommen how to spar properly,” you smiled softly.

Your mother did not smile however, “We have knights for that,”

“Yes, but Tommen gets nervous,” you said, and she just hummed as she began to braid sections of your hair, “Robb was really good with him,”

“He was trying to impress you. it wont last,” she said.

You ignored the tugging and pulling off your hair. However, when your mother began to pin the braids up you spoke, “Robb likes it down,” you said.

Cerci paused for a moment before continuing her pinning, more harshly this time, “You’re a southerner. We wear it up,”

“Of course, mother,” you said unable to stop your eyes prickling.

As Cerci was almost finished your hair she spoke again “I just don’t want to see you get hurt sweet girl,”

“I wont mother. Robb has been nothing but kind,” you tried to assure her, but she just scoffed.

“For now. Trust me my sweet girl. He will hurt you and you will learn to endure it,” she said, starring off to the side, “it gets easier with time. with wine,” she chuckled as she looked at you in the mirror, “You look beautiful,” she smiled with her hands on your shoulders. You didn’t thank her.

“I don’t like wine,” you said.

She dropped her hands from your shoulders, “You will,” she said before leaving to prepare herself for the feast. You looked at yourself in the mirror and it felt like a stranger dressed as your mother stared back.

“I love your hair,” Sansa squealed as you took your seat with the Stark children and your siblings, “Will you teach me how to do mine like that?”

“I could,”

“I can’t wait to be sisters,” she squealed again. You forced the smile onto your face as you agreed with her but for the whole of dinner you could not bring yourself to look at Robb.

You noticed his looks and acknowledged his questions, but you kept moving the conversation back to another person. Robbs face grew duller as the night continued and his attempts lessened. Sansa and Marcella kept asking about the engagement celebration happening tomorrow and you did your best to seem happy however as soon as the dinner was over you excused yourself.

In your chambers you hastily took out all the pins your mother had shoved in and tried to untangle all the knots. It did little to help, however. No matter what you did your mothers words ate away at you.

With the betrothment terms scheduled, part of which included you staying in Winterfell as a ward on the lead up to the wedding, your father had insisted on an engagement celebration. A feast filled with drinking and dancing and eating and singing and noise. So much noise. From the gossip to the slurping to the giggles and music; you were drowning in a sea of noise.

You couldn’t understand how it was a celebration of you and Robb when you had only greeted each other since the festivities had started. Part of that admittedly being because of your avoidance of the Stark boy. “When I said you had to dance, I assumed you understood I meant with him also,” your mother whispered sharply in your ear before plastering on her smile again.

All you could do was nod as you drank more wine from your cup. You thought the sweet wine would sooth your stomach, but it only made your head spin more. When Robbs eyes locked with yours over the crowd you felt your stomach burbling but not with, he excitement it had before. Your gut said one thing your mother another. Who was right?

When you saw Robbs smile you couldn’t help feeling the butterflies but when he began to cross the hall, eyes on you, it was as if the butterflies had suddenly lost their wings. “I’m going for some air,” you whispered to Clegane who had been set to guard you. when he nodded and stood you shook your head, “Alone. I’ll be back before anyone notices I left,” You were glad he wasn’t much of a people’s person and did not question as you slipped out of the hall.

Once you were in the corridor you were able to let out a sigh of relief before quickly navigating the now familiar corridors to find the courtyard. You took in a deep breath of the cold Northern air before pressing forward in your journey to sit on a bench just out of sight of the windows. Despite hearing the noise of the festivities, the space made it less overwhelming at least.

The cold wind on your cheeks helping your flush from the crowded hall. You had assumed everyone had been too wrapped up in their own drinking to notice however when a hand touched your shoulder you jumped as you realised you were wrong. “Are you okay?” Robbs face was filled with worry as he stood over you.

You opened your mouth to speak but words stuck in your throat. Robb moved to sit on the bench beside you, taking your hand into his. “What’s the matter?” his thumb stroking over your knuckles.

“I don’t know what im doing,” you whispered, closing your eyes, and leaning your head back to rest on the stone wall behind the bench, “And im scared,”

“Scared of what?” Robbs eyes were filled with warmth despite the icy colour.

You sighed as you weighed up whether to tell him. “My mother has told me stories. Of marriage,” you said. Robb sighed, his eyes dropping into a sad smile, “Of how some men treat their women. Of what I should expect,”

“And your scared?” Robb asked and you nodded your head. Robb took both your hands into his with a gentle squeeze, “I don’t blame you. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be dragged halfway across Westeros for a new life. But I promise you this; I won’t let anything hurt you as long as I live. I couldn’t live with myself if I was to hurt you in anyway. Im sorry that I have frightened you princess,

“Its not you,” you sighed, sitting up properly, “Its just. I’ve heard a lot about the things. Like you know. that man and wife do,” you said, and you couldn’t help the flush on your cheeks, but Robb did not laugh or mock your nerves unlike others would, “People keep talking about the bedding ceremony,”

“We won’t have one of them,” Robb cut you off, “I respect you far too much to have some old creep in the room,” you couldn’t help but chuckle at his brashness. “We won’t do anything like that until you’re ready. I wont force myself on you,”

“My mother says you will,”

“That woman has said two words to me since she has met me. She does not know me,” Robb said. “When we are married it will be our marriage. Not hers, not my parents, ours. And we make the rules of it,”

“I’d like that,” you said, a shy smile finally returning to your face. Robb had a dopey grin on his face as you raised his hand to kiss the back of it. “Thank you, Robb,”

“Anything for you princess,” you slapped his shoulder at the name, “Okay fine,” Robb laughed. “I’m sorry,” he held his hands up in fake defence.

You laughed and took a moment to enjoy the comfortable silence, “Can I ask a favour?” you broke the silence. Robb nodded and you sighed. “Could we kiss?” You said, face flushing as Robb raised his eyebrows confused, “It’s just I know we will have to eventually and- “you began to ramble, “I just don’t wanna do it for the first time in front of everyone like it’d just be nice if like maybe we had like a moment like between us and I know its dumb,”

Your rapid-fire sentence was cut short when Robb lightly grabbed your chin, “Its not dumb,” he said softly, “I think its sweet,” his hand moved to hold your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek, “And if im honest I would quite like to kiss you,” he whispered.

“I’d like to kiss you too,” you whispered back.

Slowly Robb leaned forward, his hot breath fanning your face as his warm fingertips brushed your cheek. You shuffled forward slightly, your hand moving to rest on his shoulder. His lips, grazing over yours, waiting for you to close the gap. You did.

Your lips pressed together softly, moulding together for a short but sweet kiss. It broke after a couple of seconds and for a moment you gazed into Robbs eyes which gazed back at you. his lips were chapped but had felt so soft against yours. The seconds they had touched yours had already made you addicted to the sweet taste.

Your lips crashed back onto his, more needy than before. Robb did not stop your movements, instead his hand slid back to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer to him. Your hands gripped into his shoulders as your lips moulded with his. Air no longer felt important to your lungs when you felt his tongue brush against your bottom lip. You opened your mouth slightly, almost moaning when he slipped his tongue in. the sweet taste of his tongue made your head dizzy as his other hand gripped your waist.

After a few moments Robb suddenly pulled back, “We should stop,” his breath was heavy and uneven, but his lips were too far from yours.

Your hand moved behind his neck, “Not yet,” you said, pulling his lips back onto yours. Robb almost groaned into the kiss your tongue joined in, moving perfectly in sync. The kiss was hungry like with first love, and it only stopped this time when you heard Clegane call out your name. you pressed your finger against Robbs slightly swollen lips until you heard Clegane sigh and storm away. You couldn’t help but giggle.

Robb let out a soft laugh at how you were acting, “Did that help ease your nerves?” He asked.

“Very much so,” you grinned, “We should do it again sometime. Lots of times,”

Robb grinned and shook his head, “Don’t worry princess,” he said, and you rolled your eyes with a smile, “we will later,”

“Why not know?” you asked, and Robb let out an awkward laugh as he glanced down at his lap. Your eyes grew wide as you saw the bulge fighting against the fabric of his trousers, “Oh!”

“Sorry,” Robb pulled away from your grip.

You quickly took his hand, “Its okay,” you assured him, “Besides we are going to be man and wife so in a way it wouldn’t be so bad if we were to you know,” you said with a chuckle and a blush.

Robb laughed lightly as he took your hands into his, “As much as I would love to. And trust me I would,” he said squeezing your hands making you blush more, “I wont dishonour you like that,” he said, and you frowned. “We’ll have plenty of time for it once we’re married,”

You paused for a moment, “What exactly is it?” you asked, and Robb laughed, looking at the ground, “It’s just I’ve heard stories, but I don’t know if I believe them,”

“Good stories or bad?” he asked.

“A bit of both,” you confessed, “Mother said it’s like a battle, but I heard another girl talking about a kind of kiss some men give women further south and she got all giddy about it,” you said, and Robb couldn’t help his laugh, “What? Don’t make fun of me!” you protested.

“Im not it’s just,” Robb shook his head, “I just don’t know how to explain it to you without sounding like a creep or offending you,” Robb laughed as you sighed and pouted at his refusal, “Tell you what how about once we’re married, I show you how it all works?” He offered with his own flush on his cheeks.

“Fine deal. Only if it includes that thing she was talking about,” You said and Robb laughed again, “Hey! The way she was going on about it made the whole marriage thing seem far more appealing,”

“Well in that case it’ll be the first thing I show you,” Robb said, placing a kiss to the back of your hand, “and that is a promise,”

“Good,” you said, sitting triumphantly, “Well in that case I hope the weddings soon,”

Robb couldn’t believe how lucky he had gotten with this betrothal as he laughed at your sudden eagerness, “Neither can I,”

Sequel kinda thing here set during the war

Game of Thrones Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy 

[vlly-of-despair]

Ghosts in the Computer? It’s not what you think…

Ok I have very little to back up most of this BUT (spoilers for The Magnus Protocol so far)

I don’t think John/Martin/Jonah are stuck in the computer at all. I think they are stuck in the FEAR WORLD. Think about it, when John got sucked into the rift with Martin, he already became the Pupil and was bound immeasurably to all of the Fears, which mind you, are simply ONE being which can be extended to different ‘categories’. By the end of TMA, John wasn’t human at all. Martin even asks him,

“How much of you is even left now?”

“It’s still me, Martin. I’m still here.”

Yeah, John. Your consciousness and personality are still your own, but make no mistake my sweet man, you are full Eldritch horror now.

This could be the only conceivable way John could have survived being stabbed, then sacrilegiously torn throughout time and space. I mean, the spooky happenings and Avatars are described as this ‘Somewhere Else’ (🤨) bleeding into our world. But nobody has ever entered this other world, it’s beyond the human comprehension. Unless… perhaps you were to be the closest thing to a Fears’ grubby little Jesus and entwined further through tapes that stretched itself within this realm then ripped you through this passage…

Here is my current suggestion. Perhaps John is in the Fears layer in reality, the ‘Somewhere Else’ as I shall call it, by virtue of himself being in a sense, an extension of the Fears. As the Fears were categorized as different vital organs as a whole being, John may be an extension of this said being. The fears made manifest in a human-ish form; the fears brought in a sentient avatar. But make no mistake, John literally is fear now.

And perhaps this is what [ERROR] is as well, this mysterious creature ‘cloaked in whispers’ is John just… kind of body hopping into people (or even past Archivists which didn’t go as far along as he did in his lovely little Becoming) and trying to communicate with others who could understand him, maybe why he has recorders with him. These whispers are literally fear, he is wearing fear. He IS FEAR. And when he tries to speak, or speaks through another’s voice, he compels others to vomit up all their fear in incoherent ramblings because that is ALL THEY CAN SEE. The fear.

Fr3d1, or ‘Freddie’, on the other hand, is a device connected to the Somewhere Else long before John arrived there. My theory is that objects bound by Alchemy can act as conduits to the Somewhere Else and the Fears, such as the Fr3d1 program, and other cursed objects found throughout the series. And just as John could know into the truth of his world through the Eye, the land of the Fears can touch the minds of all worldly beings of this layer of reality, like a vast ocean… one in which John is fully submerged in.

The Magnus Institute program may have also been a program designed to seek out children who can nurture an ability to psychologically enter the Somewhere Else (as Hans Burger did in Ep 22 in his dream). Sam is being specifically targeted because HE can possibly have that capability to tap into that world and speak to John. It could also be an explanation for the act of ‘meditation’ causing reality jumps, specifically close to the Magnus Institute. Your consciousness briefly enters the Somewhere Else, and because this place resides in a world outside of the material world, you may fall back into reality misplaced. Slightly off center from your reality, and usually this journey is deadly…

Freddie, by its ability to touch the Somewhere Else, was a program designed with supernatural abilities to garner intell tied to this outer dimension. But now that John is in this dimension, he can manipulate the system to try to steer it in a direction which can ‘speak’ to the OIAR crew, try to explain his situation. You know, without the compelling, drowning, or scaring away the closest thing to allies he could have.

Now why are Martin and Jonah there? Well, for Martin, he was dragged with John and is only been able to stay alive this long because of him. He is an extension of John, and John is trying his darndest to keep him alive. The only problem is that Martin is mortal, or at least a hell of a lot more human than John. He probably can’t psychologically take the ‘I am living in fear’ quite literally, and this may be why all of the statements in Norris’s voice are about lost love, being lost in liminal spaces, or in hearing your beloved, only to be terrified by them as they are irrevocably warped into a horrific phantom of themselves. Perhaps that is all that Martin can see; that he is somewhere where he can’t escape, and John is terrifying. So very very terrifying, and wrong. He is incapable of comprehending anything else, he may even be in the Lonely state much like in MAG 170: Recollection. John can bare the weight of all of that perception, of fear, or knowing and seeing. He wished it could be horrible, but it feels ‘right’. Not for Martin though.

As for Jonah, my best approximation is that by virtue of being the previous Pupil and also being connected to the Eye so prolifically, even when dying, small remnants of him remained in the Somewhere Else as a figure of Fear much like John. However, he is much weaker on account of John both defeating him in their original universe and plain of existence, and the fact that ‘the Eye chose John’. Nevertheless, he’s still kicking around, his evil embers also fighting to communicate, albeit less so (his statements being infrequent). Perhaps the JMJ errors are the boys fighting for supremacy in the horrors mindscape. Jonah is losing, but he won’t go down and let John win without a fight.

Where does that leave us? Well, my guess is that our lovely Son of Fears needs to rise again, be called back to the material world through some sort of Alchemical ritual. Maybe by a dangerously curious guy whose life went downhill ever since he was rejected from the Magnus Institute for having a little too much empathy, but always knew his calling to tap into that power…

Hopefully he can unleash his judgement day, smite a few less than pleasurable Externals. And while he’s at it, return his boyfriend to the living world, and get rid of an annoying old man who just refuses to die.

[watchoutforthefanfics]

Ticking Love Bomb (Part Eight) || Eleventh Doctor × gn! Reader

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8...

Taglist: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @solitairemvp @idontevenknowwth @this-is-me-lolol @rokosbasalisk @solarbxby @thestrals-and-firewiskey @followingthefanfiction @stevenknightmarc @ahkmenrami @yellowsubiesdance @toobusymakingmyownreality @crowleythesexydemon

Summary: Your adventure with the Doctor and the Ponds takes a harsh turn when it seems you're targeted with a potion. A love potion, specifically the type where you fall in love with whoever's eyes you met first after "drinking" it. But what if you're already in love with him?

TWS: aliens, space, references of guns, smoke, unrequited love (but not really), self sacrificial attitudes, and purely oblivious people. Also, just a touch of angst (typical of a love confession).

[[A/N: so sorry about the wait, and I finally fixed the taglist!!! My bad for those who asked to be tagged and haven't been. Thanks for reading :)))]]

Before you could even blink, you hear the hiss of a needle prick your skin. It felt a little like heat travelling through your veins, passing through your limbs. Everything tingled for a moment before succumbing to a sort of numbness you'd kind of known by now.

Your legs were weak, or whatever they injected you with (again) was making your limbs heavy -the guiding force of the creature was the only thing that kept you standing.

In the back of your head, you could see the blur of grey passing your eyes. It was reminiscent of the walls from before, but you couldn't really see them. Not fully.

Your brain was still so fuzzy, almost in the same way with the roses, you couldn't quite notice anything around you. All you felt where the creature's hands on your shoulders, pushing you forward as your feet stumbled to match his pace.

Was he even walking? You weren't entirely sure he had feet.

"Y/N!" a voice interrupted your haze, Amy, you suddenly recognized, "-thank god, you're alive."

You slurred just a little, trying to look at her -everything was so blurry, "Amy...?"

"Are you okay?" she suddenly questioned, and you saw a blur of red beside you, "-Y/N, are you-"

"Stay away from the hostage," the creature's voice rang out through the air, "-Headmistress only requested this one."

"Hey, no," she sounded more distant -farther away, "-Rory, let me go-"

Then it all faded to quiet, the only noise being the lowest sort of rumble of the ship. It almost sounded mechanical, like maybe the engine, or some of its inner workings. You didn't really know that much about spaceships at all, other than what the Doctor had described to you. But at their core they had to be similar to a car right? They had an engine-

You almost relaxed into the noise, it was almost calming, when everything was so blurry and uncertain. You suppose that's why you immediately heard the opening of a door.

It was similar to when they opened the door that let the Doctor, Amy, and Rory out. A slow sort of hiss almost. In your delirious state, you couldn't tell if it was degrading on your ears -everything sounded so stuffy.

"Ah, here are our guests," a voice chimed, nearly melodic (you recognized it to be the voice over the intercom system). You felt a little like you were floating, as you tried languidly blinking to clear your surroundings -the Doctor was here.

Head swimming, your eyes smoothed across the room -hitching briefly on a woman with high hair and a pleasant sort of blue skin. Somehow, in your delirious mind, you saw her as pretty. Blinking, you moved further and caught the green you'd been looking for. (Even then, something in you relaxed.)

Doctor, Doctor, Doctor-

His eyes flicked up and down you a few times, taking you in -eyes holding on to the cuffs where you could see the cusps of a bruise forming underneath them (if you focused enough). Without a breath, the creature aimed the needle at your skin again -your tongue felt like cotton in your mouth.

Something in his jaw tightened.

"Doctor, don't hesitate to greet them on my behalf," she continued, rather casually, "-This is General Kilape of our fleet, I do hope the two of you get along, and well... you're much familiar with the human, aren't you?"

Doctor didn't respond to her, instead turning back to face her accusingly, "Why have you brought them into this? Is this not about me?"

"It is," the woman (who you still had no name for) clarified, "-Doctor, haven't you ever heard of something called collateral?"

His lips flattened into a straight line -sharp and deadly.

"What? Do you believe that I would just trust you?" She hummed, laughing, "-Doctor don't be silly, having them gives you two options-"

You blearily blinked, eyes detailing the stitching of his jacket and the hair at the nape of his neck. You kind of wanted the jacket, it probably smelt really good -like him. You wanted to smell like him-

"One," she echoed, eyes pointedly glaring at the doctor -before motioning for the creature (Kilape) to push you forward. Your head spun, and you felt the drag of green eyes on you -watching as everything on your body seemed to sink (it was all so heavy), "-you refuse our offer, and we kill them-"

"You wouldn't dare," he snapped back -eyes cold and something hardening in them that you had seen maybe once or twice before.

"-and use your grief, angry grief as the legends go, to our betterment, or two-"

Your eyes were getting so heavy.

She barely took a pause, "-you cooperate, and they are returned to your loving embrace. Truly, how inspiring."

The Doctor didn't say anything then, maybe deciding exactly what he wanted to. His eyes kept flicking to you, and the slight lull of your head -the way Kilape was holding you forward made your whole body feel limp. His lips fell into a frown, something softer passing through his eyes.

He loves me. It was still so hard to believe.

"Okay," his voice was quieter, less forceful, "-okay. Just give them to me, give them to me safely and I'll... I'll do as you wish."

"Wow," she tsked, tapping her fingers along her desk, "-the great Doctor, at the will of a human. You always were weak to your companions, weren't you?"

The Doctor's mouth flattened into a thin line.

"A fickle thing like love bringing him to his knees," she continued, carefully and you saw the Doctor stiffen -it made something in your stomach swirl (don't be upset, I love you, don't be upset), "-So disappointing."

You were barely awake, but you knew something was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. You weren't worth the universe, but the words were stuck in your throat. It was pounding in your head, the fate of it all, and he wanted to save you.

"General."

Before you could even focus on her words, you were thrown to the ground. Cold metal stinging against your skin, you think you hit your head. It made your head rattle a little, but still somehow made you a little more aware. Pushing yourself up on your forearms, your eyes skimming along the room -almost searching.

Hearing a gentle buzz, you felt the cuffs snap off your wrists.

Hands guiding you up, you felt warmth and that familiar fuzz of books flickering through your nose. Just as he sat you up, one hand on your shoulder and the other framing your face, you blinked at him slowly. Eyes flicking along his face, taking him in, you could do that now. He loved you, and you loved him. Wow-

Before you could say anything, he pulled you to his chest and stood -your knees wobbled in place but he neatly held you up. How long did this thing last?

"They stay with me," he spoke, icy, "-If any of you touch them, or my other companions for that matter, you are most certain to see the wrath that you are so desperate to. Understood?"

The woman was unmoved, "As long as you cooperate, Timelord, no issues will arise."

You were slowly starting to blink away the fuzz in your brain -your surroundings becoming clearer and voices less stuffy. You could feel the ground beneath your feet, and the strange sort of warmth of his body against yours (alien, right). Words were on the cusp of your tongue, rejection (you can't do this, not for just me).

"I will call on you again, Doctor," she hummed (you still didn't know her name, actually), and motioned for Kilape to guide the two of you out of the room.

He dutifully did so.

The Doctor was moving you gently, carefully, like perhaps you would break. Your mind was clearing up substantially at this point, but your body hadn't had the same effect. Your legs still felt weak, and you could only really feel the scratch of his coat against your skin -it grounded you, just like the mechanical hum had done before.

"Doctor?" You questioned, tone more sturdy -less slurred.

He didn't say anything, neatly pulling you onto a bench. Or a chair, it was actually kind of weird. You weren't sure what-

The Doctor threw the thoughts out of your head, gently grabbing your wrists -bruises now on full display. His fingertips were careful and eyes tediously examining every inch; they fanned over the bruise, but not enough to hurt. Just a gentle sort of brush. (It made your heart stutter in your chest.)

"Does it hurt?" He asked, tone quiet and gentle but something a little with an edge deep under it all (maybe because you were hurt).

You pursed your lips, responding slowly, "Only when you put pressure on it. Like... Like normal bruises."

He hummed, looking over it carefully before his eyes flicked back to yours as if he was trying to judge if you were lying. He probably could, if you were. His green eyes dipped along your features (softening slightly) -examining, a little like you were a fascinating rock and a little like you might be the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Something in your stomach swirled. God, he loves me.

"And the injections?" The Doctor quickly continued, trying to scan your skin, "-Where were they?"

"Uh, in my neck," you answered -obediently, "-somewhere close to the hinge of my jaw, I think."

He frowned a little, fingertips gently caressing your jaw -ever so careful, "Look up for me, yes?"

Your brain felt a little like it was on autopilot, but you did as asked. The Doctor seemed to pause for a moment, before gently moving your head slightly to the left -you mindlessly felt a sting, assumedly where the needles had been pressed into your skin.

His other hand moved to smooth along your skin -fingers trailing to the edge of the wound. You could feel it now, like maybe you just hadn't thought about it enough to realize it existed.

"Looks alright," he commented, before pulling your face back down to match his, "-I'd much prefer better than alright, but I suppose we're not really in a place for that, are we?"

You laughed a little, still a little dizzy from the casual closeness -especially now that you knew he loved you. God, he loves you.

"Not really," you replied, smiling just a little.

The Doctor's eyes twinkled in that familiar sort of way then, lips turning up into a grin -the kind that made your head spin. Your eyes naturally flickered along his face -just absorbing him for a spare moment.

It was almost like there wasn't any danger, like he wasn't choosing you over-

"Doctor," you spoke -suddenly more serious, "-what are you doing?"

"Well," he paused, rolling the thought around in his head -a little cheerfully, "-I'm always doing lots of things, you know that, my dearest Y/N. But, for the sake of clarity, what are we talking about in particular?"

"Doctor, I'm not..." you waited a moment, eyes falling all over his face (love, love, love), "-You're supposed to save the world. Not... not just me."

His lips fell into a frown.

"Doctor, all of this," you motioned, and maybe your eyes were burning a little bit, "-you need to stop it. It's people you're talking about, tons of people, and I'm just... I'm just me-"

"Stop, stop saying that," he interrupted you, gently bringing a hand to cradle your face -guide your eyes to his, "-'just you'? You are so much more than... than just, Y/N."

His words faltered off, and one of his hands curled a trail behind your hair -green eyes focused on you so gently that you felt a little like you might've swayed in place if you were standing.

"Human beings are extraordinary," the Doctor continued then, looking at you a little like you were something very precious, "-what you overcome, your passions, your flaws, your dreams, your hopes, and your feelings-"

You bit at your lip, eyes a little foggy.

"Humanity is quite the feat, believe me, but you? My darling Y/N-" his thumb gently brushing along your cheekbone, "-you're... you. One of kind that I'm so grateful to know in all my years-"

"Doctor," you tried to object, "-I believe you, I do. But you can't just give up."

The Doctor's eyes brushed along you.

"Those people, I don't know if you could call them people I guess," you continued, "-they're worth so much more. They're all one of a kind."

His lips pulled into a frown, but he didn't speak.

"You save people," you repeated, braving a hand forward on his face, "-don't be a prick and choose favorites."

He laughed a little then, and you realized it was a little wet -teary. It was quiet then for a moment, like he was trying to work up what he wanted to say.

"I can't lose you."

You pressed your lips together, trying to smile lightly and fight back tears. You couldn't do this if you cried, you couldn't leave him. He leaned into your hand then, connecting his own around your wrist.

You whispered out, smiling bittersweetly, "And I can't let you do this."

He frowned again.

"So, do it," you hummed, combing back his hair gently, "-save them. Even if it puts me in danger-"

"Y/N, I can't-"

"You don't have a choice," you stressed, "-I know you think you are that legend but you're not anymore. You save them, you always save them."

"What about you?" He questioned, "-Am I not supposed to save you?"

You smiled then, light and airy, ignoring the tears smoothing down your cheeks.

"Oh, Doctor," you let out a laugh, "-you already have."

[kusuokisser]

its my aroace duty to capitalize on aroace saiki angst. sorry folks.

we all know that sexual and romantic desires arent something saiki particularly experiences, but imagine him growing up waiting for that. hes always been told by his family (minus mama) that hes a monster or a freak or basically something inherently nonhuman. i imagine kid kusuo waiting to get a crush, waiting to at least have that shred of humanity that everyone else describes as being so vital. to have a chance at feeling human. but he never gets it, he's left in this entire other category of people who never get to experience falling in love or having a crush, people who dont get something seen as being so fundamentally human. he already knew in the back of his mind that hed never have a chance at being like everyone else, but imagine middle school/high school kusuo watching everyone around him fall in love and he is just waiting. he almost hopes he falls in love so that he can have a chance to be normal, a chance to be human.

his desires were never truly about romance or sex, but about being able to connect with the humans around him. they were about wanting to be normal. and of course he cant even have that, he is a monster after all, right? he was a fool to think he could experience the human emotion of love, right?

i can imagine freshman kusuo trying to force himself to feel anything romantic or sexual because he is so desperate to have that tie to his humanity that deep down he knows will never be there. not in that way. he knows he'll never be able to relate to his peers in that way, or any way really. he's so tired of always feeling different from the rest, but what can he expect anymore?

[uhohwhathaveidone]

Hello !! Can you do something about Sebastian and Hufflepuff Readers?

A lovely reader, gentle, friendly and kind. She didn't seem like someone who could hurt or kill anyone at all. But in fact, she could easily break someone's arm with her coolness. She looked terrifying and formidable every time she fought. (Sebastian hesitates to admit he's secretly scared of her, too.) It's like she's not the cute Hufflepuff he and his friends know.

But of course, she's still kind and sweet to him and her friends, but sometimes she's a little scary.

Me when I play any game that allows just straight murder

Loyal Hufflepuff (S.S)

I'm in here, look at me, bullying people, my favourite hobby. This has some death, because how are people supposed to fear you in battle if you don't protect your favourite boy from Rookwood's men by just bashing their heads in with a random anvil? Also, do any of your characters just randomly tell a goblin they defeat that their blood is on Ranrok's hands, because when mine said it i was just baffled like no don't say that little Hawke that's not very Hufflepuff of you to say. Anyway, enjoy <3

      Sebastian walked beside you, concerned as he watched the collection of plants in your arms tilt slightly. “Are you sure you don’t need any help?” He asked, showing you his free hand as you smiled, shaking your head. “I’m fine! Professor Garlick needed these right away, can’t waste much time trying to split them equally between us.” You breathed, peering over a pot to see where you were going. You wore your Hufflepuff uniform, your robe discarded back at your dorm as you opted to enjoy the decent weather. Sebastian had spotted you trying to open a door, failing as you tried to balance the many plants in one hand. He quickly hurried over and caught a pot that had begun to fall, confused as you thanked him. He decided to walk with you afterwards, opening doors for you and making sure you didn’t run into anyone, which you were grateful for.

      “Why does the professor need all these, anyway?” Sebastian asked, opening a door for you as you quickly squeezed by. “She didn’t really say, but I’m sure she has a plan for tomorrow’s class with them.” You replied, breathing a sigh of relief as you neared the Greenhouse. Sebastian shook his head, sighing. You continued to walk, chatting about small things that came to mind, when you felt a hit at your shoulder. You quickly turned your head, an apologetic smile on your face as you stopped. “I’m sorry! I didn’t see you there, I hope you’re all right!” You said, nodding your head slightly at the student you had bumped into. They smiled back at you, apologizing as well as they quickly walked away. You shifted the plants in your arms as you began walking again, hearing Sebastian scoff. “I don’t understand why you must apologize for that. You’re basically in the same state as Ominis, they could see that.” He said, grabbing two of the plants from your arms.

      You shook your head as you sent him a small smile. “I’m not blind, Sebastian. I wasn’t paying attention, and I’m sure they weren’t either. Just a simple mistake.” You said, watching your step as you descended down the steps, breathing in the earthy scent as you saw the doors to the classroom. Sebastian shook his head, sighing as he opened the door. Professor Garlick greeted the two of you as you carefully set down the pots. “Oh, I’m so glad you brought these over!” She said happily, picking up a pot of baby mandrake, inspecting its leaves. You smiled as you nodded, fixing up the order of plants in a way that she described on the list. “It was no problem, of course. Sebastian helped me get them all down here in one piece!” Sebastian smiled slightly as he avoided your gaze, nodding. Professor Garlick clapped her hands together happily. “Thank you so much, you two! Five points for Hufflepuff and Slytherin, of course. I’m excited to show you what I have planned for tomorrow!”

      The two of you left shortly afterwards, dusting the sleeves of your clothes for any stray dirt. “Thank you for helping me, Sebastian!” You said, smiling up at him. Sebastian nodded, smiling back at you as you walked through the halls. “Wasn’t any problem, gives me an idea about what we’ll be learning about tomorrow.” He said, a sly smile on his lips. You scoffed and shook your head, smiling. “Of course, a quick look into tomorrow’s assignment was your intention.” Sebastian furrowed his brows as he turned his head to you, continuing to walk. “What’s that supposed to mean, exactly?” You chuckled as you shook your head, pressing a finger to your lips. He sighed, opening his mouth to speak again before he was cut off. A student passed between the two of you, pushing his shoulders into both you and Sebastian as he stormed through. You hissed as you held your arm, frowning, while Sebastian quickly turned around to confront the student.

      “A simple excuse me would have been helpful, you know!” Sebastian shouted, walking over to the student as he stood a short distance away. You followed behind him, unsure what to do as the boy in front of you turned around, sneering at Sebastian. “Should be watching where you’re going, Sallow.” Sebastian scoffed, glaring at him as he crossed his arms. “I wouldn’t have to if students like you stopped trying to walk between two people as they talk, Hawke.” He spat back, scowling. The student scoffed as he took a quick look at you, shaking his head. “I’d watch your tone, if I were you. Wouldn’t want to lose another student like you did Anne, now would we?” Sebastian’s eyes widened as he felt his blood boil, ready to deck the boy in the face. He was too late, however, as he blinked and the boy was on the ground, nose dripping with blood as he looked in his direction in horror.

      Behind Sebastian, you straightened your vest and fixed you tie, grabbing Sebastian’s arm and steering him away. “Let’s not stick around for that, yeah?” You said, hurrying along the hall before the two of you disappeared down a corridor. Sebastian frowned at you as you continued to walk, unsure as to what happened. “Did you…punch him?” He asked, almost laughing at the idea. You shrugged, taking a glance behind you, as if on the look-out for anyone following you. “It wasn’t that hard of a punch, to be fair. I think he’s just fragile, clumsy even.” You said, turning down another hall, making your way to the Undercroft. Sebastian nodded, smiling as he looked at you.

      That was the first time you really acted out, and although it was funny to Sebastian, seeing you deck a kid in the face for him, he wondered about what else you would do. He loved to duel with you, and when you chose to go head-on with four other students in a duel, he watched in amazement as you took each of them out, barely getting hit the whole time. After each duel, of course, you would speak with your opponents, making sure they were ok and complimenting their style. It was only when the two of you decided to go explore some ruins that he saw the not-so-friendly side of you. Protective, would probably be a better word for it.

      “What are we supposed to do?” Sebastian whispered, keeping close to you as some of Rookwood’s goons surrounded you. You bit the inside of your cheek, listening to their taunts, begging you to try and escape. “They don’t seem too inclined to a friendly chat, if that’s what you’re asking.” You said, looking over at Sebastian with a frown. Sebastian sent a half-hearted glare your way, gesturing to the Dark Wizards. “Clearly. You’ve tangled with these guys before, right?” You nodded. “Then what do you think we should do?” You didn’t have time to respond as a light flashed in the corner of your eye, you hand flying up to cast a protection spell around the two of you. “Get the girl, she’s the one we need!” One of the masked men shouted, more spells flying your way.

      Sebastian hardly had time to keep an eye on you as the two of you were sent into the fight, desperately holding up a defensive position as more spells came at him. You were farther away, dodging and running as you sent your own spells out, downing one of the wizards as you spun to immediately shield yourself form another spell. Sebastian had no idea how you were able to hold up so well against so many attackers, finding himself against a stone wall as two wizards cornered him. “The boss only said the girl, didn’t say we had to keep any stragglers.” One said, chuckling as he raised his wand. Sebastian was stuck, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to go against two at once.

      “We could kill him quickly, if that’s what you want.” The other said, narrowing his eyes, a hidden smile pulling at his lips. Sebastian raised his wand, shaking as he prepared for the worst. He watched with wide eyes as they raised their wands, just seconds from casting who-knows at him, when a shout sounded behind them. “Mind your head!” You shouted, sending an anvil over, smashing into the head of one of the men, sending him to the ground instantly. Sebastian was sure that a blow like that would kill anyone, and stared in amazement as a pool of blood began to form under him. The other man shouted in surprise, turning to you as you ran over. Without hesitation, Sebastian watched you summon lightning, striking the man where he stood, sending him flying into a heap in a bush. You walked over to Sebastian and took his hand, pulling him with you as you stepped over the fallen wizards and exited the ruins, huffing in annoyance as you were met with Ranrok’s men next. “They just don’t stop, do they?” You asked nonchalantly, readying your wand.

      Once again, you made quick work of the goblins, finishing the battle when you sent one of their weapons flying back at them, their body dropping to the ground. You walked over to the goblin, watching as he struggled to breathe, slowly dying. Sebastian tried to catch his breath as he hurried to reach your side, hearing you speak to goblin just as he died. “You blood is on Ranrok’s hands.” Sebastian furrowed his brow as he snuck a glance at you, your eyes dark as you looked down at the body, frowning slightly before turning to Sebastian. “Are you alright?” You asked, your gaze softening immediately as you studied his face, noticing the small scratch on his cheek. “Yeah, I’m good. Mainly thanks to you, of course.” He said, whipping his face with his sleeve as he looked around. You smiled gently at him as you breathed a sigh of relief, picking up a small bag of coins from the ground. “Perhaps we should head back, I think we’ve had enough adventure for today.” Sebastian nodded, following you as you traveled out of the woods.

      It was amazing, in Sebastian’s eyes, how strong you were when it came to protecting people. You basically murdered people that wanted to kill him, even attacking a student when he stepped out of line. Yet, you were still friendly, smiling whenever someone greeted you, offering to help anyone that asked. It was terrifying yet endearing. You didn’t just stand up to people for Sebastian either, you seemingly appeared out of nowhere if one of your friends needed help. Just the other day, Sebastian watched you seemingly appear from behind him as you made your way over to Poppy, staring down the students that had taken to taunting her and making fun of the creatures she was so fond of. He couldn’t hear what you said to them as he walked over but watched as the leader of the group frowned as he turned, gesturing for his friends to follow him as they left.

      He mentioned this to Ominis one day, asking if he noticed how you could get scary sometimes. Ominis nodded, smirking as he recounted the events from earlier that day. “I was walking by myself to Charms, I believe you were already there. Someone bumped into me, I’m not sure who it was, though.” He started, biting the inside of his cheek. Sebastian furrowed his brows, frowning. “Did they say anything to you?” He asked, watching as Ominis nodded. “Told me to watch it. I wasn’t going to say anything about it, but he kept talking after that, saying something about Slytherins, I think.” Sebastian nodded, waiting for Ominis to continue. “Next thing I know, he’s next to me again, with Y/n. Apologized too. She told him to shove off and walked with me the rest of the way.” Sebastian’s eyes widened, smiling slightly. “So that’s why you arrived together. You should have seen your face, red as a tomato it was!” Ominis scoffed as he shook his head, his cheeks heating up slightly. “Oh hush! You’re not so different, you know? Heard you were a mess after she punched Hawke, Poppy claims you were stuttering the whole time you talked about it.”

      Sebastian shook his head, playfully glaring at Ominis. “She’s protective, I tell you. But I suppose that’s what you get when you hang out with a Hufflepuff.” Ominis nodded, smiling. “Loyal to the end.” “Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to an end.”

[patmax17]

I can't overstate how much I love the color wheel (or color pie) from Magic:The Gathering

I started playing magic back in 2001 when I was 14, Odyssey had just come out. I knew a bit of English, and I soon started reading Magic's website for news and spoilers. That's when I discovered @markrosewater 's column Making Magic. MaRo is both a great game designer and an impressive writer, his column was entertaining, witty, fun and informative. I consider Magic and especially his column to be the main reason I learned to read English so fast.

Now, 2001 was a period of transformation in Magic. The main saga in the story had just ended (consider Avengers:Endgame), and the people at WotC were reconsidering and rebalancing the color wheel. I remember there being weeks dedicated to the single colors, and MaRo's comulumn being deeeep dives into those colors.

Now, what's the color wheel? You see, in the universe of Magic: The Gathering the primordial energy and building block is mana, which comes in one of five colors: white, blue, black, red and green. Mechanically, each card is associated to one (or more) colors, and each color has mechanics that are typical for it, like green being the color of growth and big creatures, blue being the color of spells and flying, and black being the color of death and zombies. But the people at WotC put a lot of effort to also distinguish each color thematically, defining *why* each color has certain mechanics, what it says about the color's philosophy and values. Green is the color of nature and community, where the small ones help the big ones grow and foster. Blue is the color of knowledge and artificiality, black is the color.

It's pretty intuitive most of the time, but here's where it gets even better: the placing of the colors on the wheel has a meaning. Colors that are close to each other are "allied" colors and have something in common, while colors that are opposite of each other represent the two opposites on an axis:

I don't have the time (or skill) to go into detail here, but this system is so damn elegant. It has five basix building blocks but allows to represent an incredibly vast array of concepts, characters and behaviors.

The color wheel is still my favourite system to define/describe fictional characters, it's miles better than the alignment chart of D&D (or, like, hogwarts houses).

I find it incredibly fun to discuss what color(s) certain character fall into: is superman white, green? Is batman white, black, blue? A combination of those? Ryuko Matoi is red, Satsuki Kiryuin is white. Do you disagree? Perfect, tell me why, it's always super interesting to see which aspects of a character people consider the most prominent!

My favourite Magic blocks and sets were those playing with the color wheel and its concepts, mainly Planar Chaos but ESPECIALLY Ravnica. Man, I really need to play some rpg campaign set on Ravnica sooner or later.

I played magic for 5-6 years (until I finished high school), but the color wheel is ingrained in my mind. It was the main chitchat topic when I first started going out with my SO more than 15 years ago xD

So yeah, not sure who this is for, it's mainly me rambling and fanboying about one of my favourite game design and character creation concepts. If you don't know the color wheel, I suggest you try to read a bit about it. And if you do know it, what do you think? Is there anyone out there who used it as a basis for an rpg or foe writing?