#poor woman over here trying to survive just like. by herself and now two dumb boys drop into her life that need to learn how to survive too

[spotsupstuff]

Mind me asking, what was the friendship between Zephyr and the two ancients like?

teacher-like! she can be soft and more motherly with them too (especially later down the line when their relationship becomes more certain), but she's mainly trying to set them right so they can have a chance at surviving. so strict-n-firm™ Zeph™

[scarletwidowaf]

Yelena Belova x reader “fake dating” to actual!!!!

Plssssss :) 🥲💛

Moral Of The Story

Yelena Belova x female reader, scarlewidow mentioned.

A/N: might be messy, might be cheesy, but I truly don't care because I live for this chaotic due.

warning: stupidity maybe

words: 2000ish- probably more. 

masterlist

You don't know how but somehow training with Yelena always ended up with you being pinned down on the training mat.

"Fuck" you cursed frustrated as she pinned you down for the 3d time in a row. Yelena laughed before she stood up and held out her hand for you to take.

"I let you win!" You said as she pulled you up.

"Sure you did" she joked.

"Seriously. I let you stomp on my dignity because I have a favor to ask!" you said back, a goofy grin playing on your lips as you passed her one of the water bottles.

"Now, that's gonna be interesting" she said as she sat on the floor, her back facing the wall. She gratefully took the bottle from your hand as she waited for you to talk.

"be my girlfriend" you said. The two of you were always comically stupid, so of course that you said that at the same moment she was taking a gulp from her bottle and of course she choked- and of course you laughed.

"I'm Sorry" the blonde glared at you.

"You're not" she responded in between coughing.

After a few moments, she finally stopped coughing and your laugh dyed out as well.

"You're right. I wasn't." You laughed again and she shoved you playfully.

"So, did you seriously just asked me to be your girlfriend?" She asked. Her lips forming her famous-troubled-maker cheeky grin.

"Well.. my fake girlfriend to be exact" you corrected yourself and she laughed again.

"You know you could've started with that, right?"

"And what's the fun in that?"

You smirked at her, knowing full well she found the random question amusing.

"So Why me, anyway..? - Wait, Let me guess.. kate and carol said no and you're scared of Wanda?"

"Okay first I'm not scared of Wanda, I'm scared of your sister.. there's a difference. And Second; my parents in town.. and I kinda told them I have a girlfriend.."

"Oh, now that's classic" Yelena, obviously, found the situation hilarious and you couldn't blame her since you found this dumb conversation amusing as well.

"Does it mean you'll do it?" You asked.

"Yeah why not" she responded you raised an eyebrow at her waiting for the catch. With Yelena, there's always a catch or at least a stupid comment.

"Yeah. I want to meet the poor souls who had to deal with your stupidity on a daily basis for the last 20 years..."

And here it is. You thought.

"I will punch you" you threaten her.

"Kinky" she smirked.

"Whatever stupid. I'll pick you up tomorrow at 8" you said as you got up from the spot next to her.

"Wear something nice"

_______________________________

The thing about Yelena is that you can never know what to expect. No matter how much time you spent with her, and it was a lot, she somehow still managed to surprise you.

This time was no different. but in her defense, this time the blame is definitely on you. You saw Yelena wear different kinds of outfits, from gear to fancy dresses, yet for some reason, you just didn't expect the other girl to wear a suit, and damn she looked good.

The gray suit fit her perfectly and her long blonde hair was down. She looked painfully beautiful and you couldn't help but stare- and she couldn't help but notice.

She wasn't doing better, on your defense. The blonde checked you out shamelessly before she sent you a smirk "How lucky I am" she joked and you rolled your eyes.

"Very lucky.. and so am i" Yelena smiled at you and held her hand out for you to take.

The ride was short and 15 minutes later you were standing outside the restaurant.

You could feel Yelena's gaze on you as you bit your lip nervously. "It will be alright" she assured you as she interviewed your hands together. "Thank you" you looked at her gratefully "Don't sweat it" she replayed with a soft smile.

That was the thing about Yelena, people always misguided her for someone she wasn't and it always made you mad. God, Of course, she was strong and fierce and brave and absolutely terrifying at times- but She was so much more than that. She was sweet and loyal and caring, and kinda funny (don't tell her) and absolutely beautiful- inside and out. One of your favorite things about her was her shy and sincere smile, which seemed reserved only for you.

"You ready?" She squeezed your hand. you took a small shaky breath before smiling back at her. "As ready as ill ever be"

The restaurant wasn't busy and it didn't take you long to catch your parents in a corner in the far back of the room. Both smiling wide as you walked towards them. Your mother's smile was contagious and you couldn't help but smile back. God, you missed them.

"We've missed you so much" your father said as he hugged you, your mother doing the same.

"I've missed you too" you confessed before tugging Yelena forwards them.

"I'm assuming that's the girlfriend," Your father said and you nodded. God, You were nervous and Yelena could sense it as she reached for your father's hand.

"Yelena." She introduced herself As they shook hands. Her grip firm and her smile dazzling. "I'm Y/D/N and this is my wife Y/M/N" he introduced himself as well.

"Glad to finally meet you. I heard a lot of great things about you" She said with a confident smile.

Both of you could tell the older man was impressed by the blonde and you couldn't help but smile.

"Were happy to finally meet you as well- although we can't say the same since pumpkin over here hasn't said much about you"

Yelena smirked at you as you blushed deeply. You knew she wouldn't let you forget about the nickname. Like, never. "Yeah, it's actually pretty new. It wasn't really planned neither" she explained.

Your mother, God bless her, wasn't the one to shook hands. The moment Yelena was free from your father's grip she found herself in the woman's warm embrace.

"Okay... I think we should start ordering" you said when Yelena was free again. Her cheeks were a bit flushed. The Russian Assassin wasn't used to be hugged and you couldn't help but smile.

The conversation was light, the wine was good and most importantly, your parents loved Yelena. which was understandable considering the fact she was annoyingly charming.

The Yelena that sat next to you with her hand on your lap was the best version the blonde could pull and you felt stupid for being worried in the first place. Yelena led the conversation with politeness, charm, and grace that you never knew she had in her- and your mom seemed impressed. Impressing your dad was even easier- Yelena didn't even have to try, all she had to do was show her intelligence and add some light humor.

After an hour of light and mostly general conversation, amazing food, many embarrassing stories of you on both sides, and 2 glasses of wine, your mom decided to take the conversation into her hands.

"So Yelena. Tell us about yourself."

Oh boy. Now that might be a problem.

"Well... I joined the avengers a few months ago" she explained "Not long after I met your daughter actually," she said simply.

"That's nice, and before that?" The older woman asked.

"I was a freelance.." Yelena gulped. Her hand squeezes yours

"As?" Your mom asked. You knew she didn't try to push Yelena into this corner, she wasn't this kind of person, but she definitely put the blonde on the spot.

"Well... I was involved with the black market and different criminal organizations. Jobs like getting undercover to dig information or well.. getting rid of powerful men in the criminal world.."

Your parent's eyes went wide. Your dad stared at her with wide eyes and your mom cleared her throat.

"I don't do it anymore" she continued. The blonde seemed as nervous as you felt.

"How did you ended up in this line of work? If I may ask?"

"Mom I don't think-" you started and Yelena smiled at you.

"No, It's fine babe.." she said before moving her attention back to your parents "Sometimes life gets you to places where you have to do bad things to survive."

Your dad's expression was unreadable and your mom seemed worried as she glanced at you.

"Yelena and I met when her sister recruited and pulled her out of this life. Yelena is a good person, despite everything she's been through. That's what I love the most about her." You said.

Yelena smiled softly and your parents exchanged looks.

"I'm a different person now" Yelena promised

"We believe you... but I can't help but worry for my daughter, as you can surely understand. What if the people you've been involved with. Try to get to you through Y\N"

Your father asked calmly. Both were taking it better than you expected and you couldn't blame them for being worried.

"Dad. I know it might come as shocking.. but I'm a big girl and I'm well aware of the risk of being involved with Yelena. I need you to trust me when I say that risks, some worse than the mafia, were a part of my life long before we met."

Yelena bit her lip to hold a smile and you interviewed your hands again.

"You're a doctor" your mom argued "I'm a field doctor. Of the avengers." you corrected her. "which means I'm more of capable of taking care of myself."

Your dad nodded softly to your mom before he smiled at you. "You're are.. Don't you?" He laughed. "Mu little pumpkin.." he sIgh and your mother smiled as well

"I just want you to understand that all we want for you is to be safe and happy. And even a blind man can see Yelena gives you that." He sent Yelena a soft smile. Yelena smiled back at him.

"Take care of my daughter.. she's a keeper" your father said firmly.

"She is. And trust me, I will" she promised.

_______________________________

"Well, that went well" you laughed when you got into the passenger seat. Yelena volunteered to drive which was a relief since you were exhausted.

After the two of you got into your seats the blonde sent you a small smile and took something out of her pocket.

"Is that? A bullet..?" You asked confused as you took the copper cylinder from her hand.

Yelena laughed softly.

"It is. It's the same bullet you stopped me from shooting at Natasha"  she confessed.

"I was in such a bad place back then and I blamed Natasha for it. If it weren't for you things would've been very different now" Yelena whispered

"Yeah, both of you were dead since you would've shot her, and Wanda would've probably hunted you down and kill you" you laughed and Yelena's shoulders relaxed.

"Probably" she said. "But with all seriousness... I was aiming a gun at my own sister and instead of pulling your own gun at me, you decided to shield her with your own body and dare me to shoot you as well. Who does that!?."

"You thought I was insane" you laughed.

"I thought you were stupid, putting your life at risk to save someone fucked up like us! someone like me.." She confessed and it downed on you.

No matter what happened or how many good things Yelena had done in her life, she couldn't let go of who she was trained to be. She still blamed herself for all the terrible things she did back at the red room and she constantly tried to get closure by doing the exact opposite- which was probably the reason she killed all these bad men in the first place. But then Natasha came back for her, and Yelena blamed her for leaving her behind to live with the things they did. She felt betrayed and broken, and Natasha's return only made it worse. Like she was just pitting her broken sister.

"All I know is that the Yelena I stood up to and the Natasha I saved that day were not the villains the red room tried to create." You whispered.

"You truly believed that? Even then?" Yelena was crying softly and you cupped her cheek.

"Especially then! I know you don't see it, but I'm here to remind you, you're a good person. Truly. You have a good heart- and I've seen it"

Yelena's cheeks were stained with tears, her eyes red and puffy and her famous crooked smile was plastered on her lips.

"And that's why you love me?"

She was a mess just like back then- when she was aiming a gun at her own sister as who she thought she was and who she truly is were fighting for dominance.

She was tragically beautiful and scared both then and now, yet somehow at the same time, she was more sure and confident than ever before. And I guess that what life is all about. Sometimes, things start to make sense only when everything else doesn't.

"Wasn't it obvious, stupid?" You said and stroked her cheek carefully as she melted into your touch.

Yelena smiled before kissing your hand softly, without breaking eye contact with you.

"You're the stupid one and you know it. Taking an assassin as your dinner date." She joked and you nodded and looked briefly at her lips.

"Well, stupid or not, I still manage to get a kiss at the end of it." Yelena laughed and got closer to you.

"Yeah you did" she whispered and kissed you.

And that was the thing about Yelena. She was good and kind and loyal. And a damn good kisser.

[distinctlywhumpthing]

Together 4: Glass.

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CW: explicit language and content, torture, captivity, wounds, implied sex work, strangulation, choking, suicide (hanging), suicidal thoughts/explicit planning, mouth whump description (bleeding, asphyxiation, choking), breathing, attempted noncon, bruises, beating, conditioning, dehumanization, noncon touching, drugs, alcohol, multiple whumpees, multiple whumpers, whumpee as caretaker, letmeknowifimissedany

August once asked what they do to me. Mouthed it, like he couldn’t stop himself from forming the words, but didn’t bother voicing it out of horror or just because he knew I couldn’t answer. I wouldn’t fucking know where to begin anyway.

Probably down on my knees.

At this point, our situation boggles my mind even more than when they trained me to be silent. That was logical when you psychoanalyzed it but shit got fucked sideways when August came into the picture. It’s just senseless now, an unending labyrinth of manipulation and control. Double the captives means double the fun. I was lucky to be alone for so long. There were two others before him but never like this. In the grand scheme of things, they’re all mere drops of water in the swimming pool of my time here. It was another woman first, although I never learned her name. She seemed like a Tiffany or a Heather and was really pretty, too but never trusted me. Wouldn’t even look at me, as if I wasn’t just as much of a prisoner as her.

Poor thing was in the wrong place at the wrong time and saw something she shouldn’t have. She didn’t last long at all. Unraveled faster than you can say, “Money’s on the table.” You’d think she’d have a little more grit. I mean you hear stories and can only imagine the shit they put up with in that industry, but it was like something out of an exorcist movie. Crying hysterically, throwing herself at the walls and doors, and trying to strangle the life out of me like I was sitting on a key. They came in and intervened but not before she’d purpled my neck so I could barely breathe. That was the only time they ever took the shock collar off. She spent the next bit catatonic and then one day when they brought me back, she was dangling by her own diamond-studded jeggings from a pipe on the ceiling, toes just a few inches from the ground. Damn slow way to die. They took out the pipe.

I’ve given it a hell of a lot of thought myself. She’d obviously been trying something similar with smacking herself into the concrete walls, but that will only get you a concussion that makes it feel like you’ve gone a few rings deeper into Hell. No, thank you. My choice would be the naked lightbulb on the wall, next to the door. If I shoved it far enough down my throat before it broke, I’m pretty sure I would asphyxiate before they could do anything. The key would be to bleed enough into my bronchial tube and inhale enough shards of glass to shred my lungs a bit. A little internal bleeding down my esophagus wouldn’t hinder the cause but certainly wouldn’t be fatal on its own, never mind the risk of just cutting my tongue and mouth to ribbons if it breaks too early. In that case, I’d be fucked. That’s why Wyatt leaves it there, uncovered, even though other lightbulbs down the hallway have metal cages screwed over them. Tempting me to risk it. He also knows that, now, I’d never leave August. I feel responsible and that’s why he holds my life in his hands. The torture will never stop and August is better off with me to take care of him in whatever way I can, even if it doesn’t even come close to reparation.

—

The next guy was probably mid-thirties and built like a truck. I can’t begin to imagine what he did to wind up here. He didn’t take to captivity well either. Everything they’d put into him, he’d let out onto me. The first time, he was angling to get a sweeter kind of release than just wailing on me. I was pretzeled around one of the legs of my bed frame, while he punched and clawed at me, so hell-bent on not letting go, I was screaming my head off for help despite the collar. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that Wyatt doesn’t like anyone to touch me. That went over like a lead balloon. Playing off his proclivity like somehow I had any right to decide not to be raped. Wyatt would have stopped it anyway and I could have saved myself the next few days of my bunkmate beating the living shit out of me undisturbed as long as he left it at just that. As soon as Wyatt decided I’d learned my lesson, or was sick of seeing me limping and bruised, that guy was fish food.

The second bed was empty for a long time after that even though I’m sure there were others. Wyatt has a list a mile-long of people he’d like to get his hands on for one reason or another, but I never saw them. Wyatt would still bring me out to toy with me in his usual ways. The buffoons would bring me out when he wasn’t around for entertainment but they know better than to touch me more than cursory shoves to keep me cooperating and even then, more often with their phones or other inanimate objects, rather than their hands. To them, it was endlessly entertaining to get me high out of my mind and mess with me or make me play Emma Fortyhands until I puked all over myself. I should have known Wyatt wasn’t wasting any time during this plateau of suffering. From what August says, he was here for a handful of days, maybe even two weeks, before they made us roommates. Wyatt just talked to him, drilling him for hours. He had been screening him, looking for the perfect match before binding us together in torment.

They always take me first and bring me straight to Wyatt. He likes to talk to me about what he has planned for August, trying to get a rise out of me. Like I’d be dumb enough to think that any amount of disgust or fear on my part would make a lick of difference for August. If anything, Wyatt would double it just for my reaction. Next, Wyatt makes sure I’ll make it through what he has planned for me without passing out. The humane thing would be to give me a second meal or something but instead, he gives me whatever his henchmen have lying around. An unpredictable twist added to my slow destruction. I’m lucky if it’s an energy shot or some gross drink that tastes like fruit-flavored battery acid and leaves me shaking. More often, it’s “just a bump” of something that makes my heart race and the whole session so unbearable I’m screaming in my head at the top of my lungs until I come down.

One time, he gave me a tab of acid. His favorite kind of experiment, the ultimate demonstration of his success. To no one’s surprise, I’m conditioned enough that I still didn’t speak and followed every instruction. That was, no contest, my worst day on this fucked-sideways merry-go-round. I was tripping so hard. Too slow and too fast at the same time, no distinction between myself and everything around me. Wyatt’s barbaric plan turned into a barbaric fuck-up. A small part of me understood what I had done even before I came down and when I stumbled out, I was met by silence instead of the usual dumb peanut-gallery comments. They threw me into the shower after, like always, but left me there for hours since I was still tripping. I was hysterical by the time they let me out. By some miracle, or just Wyatt perversely delaying the end, he had actually called a real doctor.

—

Today, Wyatt hands me a double shot of whiskey because it’s “cute” to watch me struggle when I’m tipsy. I knock it back in one swallow, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much that frightens me. He finishes getting me ready and then smacks me on the ass to get me moving. Once I’m in the room, he starts feeding me instructions even though I already know what he wants from me today. This way, he’s in control of my every action, like he’s thinking for me, while I just focus on getting air into my lungs, fighting through the alcohol hitting my bloodstream and burning in my empty stomach. I can throw it up in the shower later if I need to. I just need to survive this.

By the time I stumble out, I’m inevitably a mess. Crying, shaking, and covered in sweat, even on the days I get the raw, straight edge experience. One of the baboons walks me to the small concrete room, empty except the industrial-looking shower head in the ceiling above the drain. The controls are on the outside of the room which is how they make sure the water is ice cold and stays on for exactly five minutes. They take the collar off and I get a bar of soap before they lock me in. It used to be orange soap bars that made my skin feel dry even wet. After that, it was green with the same problem but a stronger smell that clung to me all the time, which wasn’t half bad. Lately, it’s a white, rounder bar, that’s distinctly feminine, and leaves my skin soft, which would be concerning if I wasn’t already too balls-deep in my worst nightmare to care.

I used to dance in and out of the freezing shower while I soaped up but now I stay under the whole time. It’s the only thing that makes any damn sense anymore, the one small touch of reality in this shit storm. I stand under the frigid water and then shake and shiver once it’s turned off until the cold becomes a buzz on my skin and in my veins. Depending on the day, I wait for seconds or hours until they toss me a small, scratchy towel and clean clothes. The waiting is part of it. Not because I’m covered in goosebumps, muscles cramping so that I have to curl in on myself for heat, but because of what I know is waiting for me next.

When they finally let me out and lock me into the collar, it’s all I can do not to run back to our basement hole as fast as my legs will carry me to make sure August hasn’t bled out or gone into shock while they kept me from him. It’s all I care about anymore, helping him survive, making him as comfortable as possible. Honestly, it is the least I can do. It’s my fault he’s here at all, kept to be part of a set. Not to mention the heinous torture. If I had known, I would have done my damndest to kill him before it ever even started.

And I would have inhaled that fucking lightbulb immediately after.

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Taglist: @deluxewhump

[elias-veturius-laia-of-serra]

Why Elias And Laia Mean So Much To Me

Okay so I’ve been wanting to write this for a while but knew it would be long and that I’d need some time to get my thoughts in order. So without a further ado here is my attempt:

Why is Elaia so important to me. Well to start off, Laia Of Serra in particular is very important and inspirational to me. She is not only a brown girl who is a hero but she is the most realistic hero I’ve ever had the honor of meeting. I’m so used to white female main characters that are badass warriors who are smart, beautiful, strong, special, that everyone is attracted to, and who fight for their people. I grew up on books like that. In which don’t get me wrong I still greatly enjoyed those stories and some of them are still my favorite to this day.

However I could never relate to those characters and it really solidified the belief that I most likely could never be a hero cause I could never fit that mold. And for the longest time I thought I was okay with that and I never really understood how much physical and emotional representation could mean to me until, Laia Of Serra.

Laia is a brown girl that is afraid, insecure, oppressed, sheltered, poor, weak, with no fighting experience, kind, emotional, girly, and self deprecating. She’s scared and second guesses herself all the time. It’s hard for her to phantom that she’s good enough to make the right choices or save anyone or anything. Which is exactly what I struggle with on the daily let alone in the middle of a war. I first read aeita when I was 17, the same age as Laia. So meeting a heroine that made mistakes, berated herself, cracked under pressure, had no clue what she was doing, let herself cry, understood that in a place filled with skilled deathly warriors she was weak, and let people trample over her. It was so relatable and heart wrenching. Especially when I’ve been wired to think girls like her are useless and typically the first to die or used as a stepping stool for the real hero.

Seeing her continue to fight with what she can and however she can made my heart soar. There were so many times she wanted to give up and feared death. However in time she grew and instead of fearing death she embraced the possibility of it in order to fight for what is right and for the people she loved. She stayed true to herself and became a badass without the need of having to kill people. Laia detested killing people especially after having to see how her people got killed all the time. She’s filled with understanding, love, forgiveness, sensitivity, kindness, and determination. No matter how many times she got knocked down she kept getting back up.

She gave and still gives me hope. Hope for who I am today and who I can grow into the future. She’s a symbol that you can be strong in other ways. That physical strength isn’t the only way to be a hero. Her bravery to face things head on, her compassion towards everyone, her determination to reach her goal, and her heart always willing to accept others is what makes her a hero. Even when it came to the final battle. It wasn’t her powers or weapons that got her to win the war. It was her kindness and understanding and love.

I understand people are disappointed that she wasn’t as “brutal” or stabby as other heroines. I love stabby women as well! But I think her depiction of strength and heroism is so important. It really shines a light on the meek and shy and scared and shows that it’s okay to feel like that. How that doesn’t automatically make you weak and how you can be just as important in the world.

I also love that Laia isn’t reduced or or shown as “not like other girls”. Laia loves to dress up, she likes to look pretty, she does think about boys, she is bossy, she is emotional, often has break downs, and she’s just so human. I find that a lot of the most badass heroines are always the ones that don’t like dressing up and finds it a waste of time, doesn’t fit in with other women, is stoic, cold, good with swords but not with words, and violent. Im not saying that these characters shouldn’t be allowed, but I feel like it reinforces the idea that the normal things a woman feels or behaves is considered weak. Not saying that all women are emotional, but we do feel. We do stress and some of us do love to put on make up and dresses. That shouldn’t be demonized or looked down upon.

That’s why I adore Laia. She’s a normal teenage girl that IS like most girls. And she gets praise and stronger because of it. Also people need to realize that at the start of the series Laia is a 17 year old girl with zero survival training skills. Elias and Helene have been training since they were literal children. Their whole lives revolves around fighting. Laia’s didn’t. So it makes sense and is realistic why she isn’t as “strong” or “skilled” as them.

To expect her to be at their level within the three year timeline between these books is impossible. I feel like people are so used to heroines that know how to fight or learn to become the most badass fighter through mere chapter montages that seeing a realistic depiction of a teenage girl that’s never fought in her life is displeasing. But I love that about her. She always becomes stronger in spirit, braver at heart, but at her core she is still Laia. A teenage girl trying her best.

Her needing help or needing a team to fulfill her goals shouldn’t be looked down on. It’s shown through even real history some of the best fighters or leaders needed a team. Needed support, right hand man, etc. Which is why I feel so connected to her and wish she wasn’t so underrated or looked down upon. Cause I feel like she’s a voice for girls like us that so desperately needed a way to be heard. She’s someone I can look up to and remember and find comfort in when times get stressful or dark.

Now as for why Elias and Laia’s relationship mean a lot to me. It’s simple. They’re a healthy brown couple and I love finally seeing a girl that looks and acts like me get praise and love. I love that Elias sees her strength and admires her for who she is. And how he actually finds comfort in a person like her. How he views her at times even stronger than him and everyone else.

Girls/characters like Laia are always reduced to a side character, the best friend, the second choice for the love interest, the death that motivates the main character, and or the character that pops in and out to give moral support. However under Elias’s eyes she IS the main character. She IS the only girl for him. He loves everything about her and was the first to believe she’s strong. He chooses her above all. Above anything and anyone else.

As a brown girl as shallow or dumb as it may sound it really does feel touching to see us described as not only just strong and desirable but loved and wanted by the warrior. The main love interest. That in his eyes this brown girl that others deem as weak, useless, boring, and a waste of time. To him she is everything. She is brave, smart, powerful, beautiful, admirable, and perfect. It means the world to me. Especially with how characters like her especially in fantasy is seen as never good enough or tossed aside.

I also love that Elias shows the struggles on what it means to be “strong”. How a lot of learning to be the best fighter happened through a lot of trauma, shame, and guilt. He does show how physical strength isn’t the only way to be strong. Which is why Laia is his balance. She is the peace and freedom he yearns for while Elias is the strength, power, and love she’s always yearned for. Where she falls in believing herself he is always the first to count his vote on her. They compliment each other perfectly. Countermelodies. True loves.

They show me a healthy version of love. One of the purest and sweetest kinds of love. Elias is always soft, kind, and patient with her. He’s proud of her even if she feels like it’s undeserved. She sees the good in him even if he feels like he’s a monster. They see each other for who they are and love that about each other. They love each other so much and I’d never seen two characters be as in love as these two are. They are utterly devoted to each other and constantly fought for their way back to each other. It’s been five years and rereading their scenes still makes me smile and feel butterflies, like it’s the first time all over again.

Even now seeing any content of them is like a shot of straight up serotonin. They are my comfort ship. Despite the stress these past five years of being with them and shipping them has brought me. They also bring me great happiness and excitement and I wish I never had to say goodbye.

Though here’s to hoping that maybe we can have an Elaia novella, at the least, in the future 👀🤞

♥️♥️♥️ Elaia Forever ♥️♥️♥️

[vivithefolle]

Not sure if you already talked about this. (I’m pretty sure you have) but someone seemed to notice that when the trio get into fights, Hermione’s always in the right. Even when she’s supposed to be wrong she always seems to be half right. That kind of bothers me. Especially since it’s evident in the whole Scabbers situation.

I have indeed, on Quora, so let’s move yet another answer of mine to Tumblr!

Hermione is seldom wrong in the Harry Potter books. Sometimes she makes mistakes but those mistakes are either completely swept under the rug or downright ignored.

It’s partly due to lazy writing and partly due to Rowling’s own growing bias in favour of her Author Avatar that was fuelled by Steve Kloves, the primary advocate of the Hermione Granger Is The Perfect Girl Ever line of thinking (an utterly ridiculous line of thinking mind you).

Lizo: Steve, Hermione is a character that you have said is one of your favorites. Has that made her easier to write?

Steve: Yeah, I mean, I like writing all three, but I've always loved writing Hermione. Because, I just, one, she's a tremendous character for a lot of reasons for a writer, which also is she can carry exposition in a wonderful way because you just assume she read it in a book. If I need to tell the audience something...

JKR: Absolutely right, I find that all the time in the book, if you need to tell your readers something just put it in her. There are only two characters that you can put it convincingly into their dialogue. One is Hermione, the other is Dumbledore. In both cases you accept, it's plausible that they have, well Dumbledore knows pretty much everything anyway, but that Hermione has read it somewhere. So, she's handy.

Now this, right here, is the exact core of the problem.

Rowling herself admits it: if she wants the readers to have information, she puts Hermione in the scene. Hermione is our primary means of exposition because, like *grits teeth* Sssssteve puts it, it’s easy to assume that she’s read about it somewhere and it makes sense.

That’s all well and good but at first, if you notice, Ron also gave us exposition about the wizarding world, mostly about its culture. He was able to recall the exact year of the Wizarding Confederation that outlawed dragon breeding in Philosopher’s Stone! He explained what were respectively a “Mudblood”, a “Squib”, and Parseltongue, Hermione doing a little exposition about the history of that last one! He was also able to identify Sirius, after being dragged into the Whomping Willow, as an Animagi!

But then Goblet of Fire happens and you can notice the first change that will exponentially grow through the books: instead of Ron, pureblood Ron, born-before-the-end-of-the-war Ron, lived-through-the-aftermath-of-the-war Ron, identifying the Dark Mark, it’s instead Hermione, muggleborn Hermione, lived-as-a-Muggle-for-most-of-her-life Hermione, has-no-idea-about-the-emotional-impact-of-the-Mark Hermione who looks terrified as the Dark Mark shoots into the sky!

And it only will get worse, by the end of the series, Hermione pretty much knows about everything the plot needs her to know, instead of having to work with things she knows but can’t always apply to the situation:

Suddenly has a deep knowledge of Magical Law (in the will of Dumbledore’s chapter, while we had Rufus Scrimgeour who could have provided it to us, or to a lesser extent, Ron could have explained how a wizarding will basically worked)

Is suddenly an expert at finding edible plants and mushrooms. Apparently books are always the goddamn answer in JKR’s world, you can literally learn anything from them

She can decipher all the Tales of Beedle the Bard (may I remind you that they were written in Runes, okay Hermione may have a few years of Ancient Runes education BUT I once tried to translate a 3k+ story I had written for fun, from French to English, which means I knew what the subtleties and intentions were, I knew which turns of phrase I had to preserve so it would make sense in the end, and it still took me two gruelling weeks to get a satisfying result!)

Has suddenly grown a sense of quick-thinking (escaping Xenophilius’ house, using the jinx to make Harry’s face weird-looking) despite it being the only remaining flaw she had at the time (remember when she turned her back on her enemy while he was still conscious just to compliment Harry, and almost died as a result, even though she had been training in the DA to learn how to fight Death Eaters?) Quick-thinking under pressure can be learned, but it takes time and a lot of work to force your brain to override its instinct - and it’s fine because we’re all human and different. But no suddenly Hermione is the Greatest Strategist Evah™ and those silly boys (who actually were the original quick-thinking ones, and one of them was established as the strategist early on) better be grateful for this literal goddess because she protects them from all harm with her superhuman brain.

Somehow knows about Quidditch stuff - she knows about a Snitch’s “memory-touch”. Why should she give all the answers? Why can’t Ron give us this particular tidbit of information?

And then when we come to something Ron actually knows, the damn narration itself goes “woah a book that Ron has read but Hermione hasn’t??? shocking!! incredible!! Ron is not dumb, somebody call the news channel”. But… is that really so surprising? We’ve never seen Hermione read wizarding fiction or even Muggle fiction. We’ve never seen Hermione with anything other than schoolbooks in her hands. Of course Ron has read books she hasn’t read since she doesn’t seem to read fiction at all!

Sorry, bit of a tangent over here.

There are only two characters that you can put it convincingly into their dialogue.

So, that’s one part of the problem: the fact that Rowling, after making Ron our insight into magical culture and Hermione our provider of knowledge, ended up saying “eh whatever I guess Hermione can tell us everything we gotta know because it’s more convenient for me”. Which is a decision that was not based on Hermione’s character, but simply lazy writing. Long story short, it probably went: “Could Ron explain this bit of trivia? Meh, better make Hermione say it cause she’ll have read it in a book. It’s convenient and I won’t need to bother myself with exploring Ron’s characterisation.”

(And thus completely forgetting that Ron could maybe ask his big brothers via owl and provide us with a good heap of extra advanced knowledge - Bill is supposed to have aced his NEWTs after all.)

The other part of the problem is quite simply that Hermione is more often than not, either painted as a victim by the narrative (which makes more people take her side, classic manipulation tactic), or made to be right anytime it’s about a plot point.

Hermione’s mistakes are never explicitly stated, corrected, or even pointed out as being unethical.

Hermione only gets one mistake expressedly pointed out as being a mistake: her misadventure in Polyjuice Potion. The rest of them? Even her crush on Lockhart can’t be counted as a mistake - people get crushes all the time, based solely on physical appearance, it’s not something awful or terrible (Except when it’s Ron who crushes on someone. Ron crushing on someone is absolutely forbidden, and he must be punished with much ridicule and humiliation if he thinks he can get away with not worshipping Hermione like the goddess she is. The nerve of him, really.).

Throughout the books Hermione eventually morphs into Rowling’s Powerful Angel of Vengeance, that punishes the people who dared to do something she disliked - Rita is silenced but at a very ethically dubious price; Marietta gets scarred for life because she was more loyal to her mother than to a bunch of people her friend insisted she hang out with; Umbridge is led to a very, very alarming fate that is never made clear but some people have ideas and they’re not all very kid-friendly; Ron first is “helped” without knowing it because Hermione can’t be bothered to have faith in his capabilities, then when he fails to dutifully reward her for “helping” him, she causes him bodily harm before actively bullying him for not mind-reading her interest in him; causes even more bodily harm to Ron because that’s how feminism works; etc.

Hermione’s mistakes are always justified through the plot itself (which is lazy writing).

Turning into a cat? Only affects her.

The Firebolt? Scabbers? Well, in the end, it was really sent by Sirius Black and Crookshanks really wasn’t the culprit. Therefore all the feelings that were hurt and all the trust lost are irrelevant because Hermione was right all along.

Trying to free the house-elves? Well, it’s the intent that counts, right? And we’re never told enough about house-elf lore to know whether they’re poor brainwashed victims or powerful Penate-like symbiotes who need to serve a wizard to survive?

Kidnapping Rita Skeeter, trapping her and blackmailing her? Rita may be one foul little beetle, but that’s going a bit far, isn’t it? Harry approves? Oh, well, I guess it’s okay then…? A main character can’t have a dubious morality, right?

Manipulating Harry into forming Dumbledore’s Army and forcing him to relive a traumatic event with the same woman she’s kidnapped and blackmail and that she knows he hates? In the end, it all works out for the best and Harry’s hurt feelings don’t matter since it’s all about the greater good.

Using the centaurs to get rid of Umbridge (which poses the highly distressing question of what did the centaurs do to her?), realizing that the centaurs aren’t nice little horsies that are going to gently obey her every orders like good Disney princess’ companions, my goodness could this be an opportunity for character growth - nevermind, here comes Grawp the Giant Ex Machina, saving her arse and protecting Hermione from all that scary possibility of introspection. Thanks, Grawp Ex Machina.

Trying to dissuade a highly stressed-out and irrational Harry from rescuing Sirius by telling him exactly what he needed not to hear, a.k.a. “you have a saving people-thing” which causes Harry to completely go bonkers and go save his godfather without thinking twice? Well she was right after all, it was a trap! Nevermind how mind-boggingly insenstive and inadept at dealing with someone else’s feelings she was being, she was right! That means it wasn’t Hermione’s mistake!… probably. (Geez, I’m sensing a pattern here…)

Endangering Cormac’s life (Confunding him WHILE HE’S ON HIS BROOM) to promote Ron’s success? Oh but that’s so romantic! (Yeaaaah, how romantic to display exactly how much faith you lack in your crush. Top it off with a broken neck and that’s a picture perfect first date!)

Assaulting Ron with magic and causing him even more scars than he already had? But he was being cold with her first, right? And he totally should have known she was asking him out! It’s not like her invitation was even worse than his attempt to ask her out two years earlier! Plus she’s just a teenage girl expressing her emotions, anyone who tries to find fault in this is a disgusting abusive misogynist pig! Ha!

Getting all jealous that Harry is better than her at Potions, then pretending she’s not jealous by claiming that TEH BOOK IS EVIL, HARRY, and giving him the cold shoulder too? But no, she’s right, look, Harry used Sectumsempra and he almost killed Draco, nevermind that he’s very horrified about it! Hermione was right, like she always is!

Hermione Obliviating her parents, which pulls her from the “ethically dubious” zone into the “wow okay I’m pretty sure that this counts as a violation of basic human rights” zone, makes her one of those quirky wizardfolk who have the privilege to control those simple-minded Muggles because it’s for the greater good? But nooo she’s crying about it so it’s obviously very sad and angsty and it shows her devotion to the cause!

Splinching Ron while fleeing from the Ministry? Eeeh, but he’s fine, they’ve got Dittany, he’s good as new!… blood loss? Anaemia? What’s that?

Hermione was wrong about the Deathly Hallows not existing? Um, um, that doesn’t matter, LOOK DOBBY IS DEAD AND HARRY IS BACK TO LOOKING FOR THE HORCRUXES!! Therefore Hermione was right, the Hallows weren’t important for their quest, therefore the Hallows might as well not exist, HERMIONE WAS RIGHT NO REALLY I’VE GOT RECEIPTS -

The books never forget to remind Harry and Ron of their own shortcomings and moments of weakness.

Harry’s wrath and recklessness cost Sirius his life. This is the lesson he has to learn from his entitled behaviour in OotP: actions have consequences, and the greater your responsibility, the greater the cost will be.

Ron’s envy and insecurity lead him astray; they’re used to humiliate, ridicule and torture him throughout the books. They’re supposed to teach him that he’s worth something - but how is he supposed to believe that, when nobody ever tells him he’s worth anything? When nobody ever apologizes to him? When his feelings are taken for granted over and over? When his two friends seem to discard him whenever he does one thing wrong?

Hermione is never punished. Hermione is never said to be wrong, never shown to be wrong, never called out on her behaviour. From Prisoner of Azkaban to mid-Deathly Hallows, she stays exactly the same character. She doesn’t grow up. She doesn’t learn. She doesn’t change. She has virtually no character arc.

The only time, THE ONLY TIME IN SEVEN BOOKS, the only time we have something remotely resembling a call-out of Hermione’s horrible behaviour is with this sole quote in HBP:

Harry was left to ponder in silence the depths to which girls would sink to get revenge.

Note how it’s about “girls” and not Hermione in particular, which implies that any girl would do what Hermione does to Ron. Thanks for the generalization, JKR, but I like to believe I’m actually a decent sort of person that doesn’t resort to petty cruelty and exploits my friends’ insecurities whenever I’m angry with them.

Hermione NEVER has to apologize. Hermione NEVER has to learn from her mistakes because she’s always presented as a victim when she really isn’t. Hermione NEVER develops into something more - she’s emotionally stuck at fourteen years old. Even less than that when you consider that her reaction to Ron’s return in Deathly Hallows is to trash him with her fists - and she was going to get her wand!! The utter psychopathic b- wanted TO THROW BIRDS AT HIM AGAIN!!! - and this reaction is an appropriate one for a four-years old girl, but certainly not for a supposedly “mature” seventeen-years old.

(Yes, because what separates a child from an adult is the ability to reign in your emotions and not succumb to your impulses. Exactly what Ron did when he left the tent (notice that he had drawn his wand, then he left before he could start hexing Harry), he left to calm himself down. Exactly what Hermione fails to do when Ron returns (she has the impulse to strike him and immediately succumbs to it, which proves to us that The Brightest Witch Of Her Age has all the maturity of a very small child).)

All of that, on top of the awful portrayal in the movies which removes all of Ron’s characteristics to stuff them into Hermione and turns her into some impossible epitome of perfection, eventually contributed to the portrayal of Hermione as the one who is always right and knows everything.

Add to it JKR’s own ridiculous bias (“Ron was quite emotionally immature compared to the other two”, yeah right I don’t see him trying to force freedom onto unwilling creatures or making Harry fly into an irrational rage with mere words but you do you, Jo) and the sexist misconception that “girls are innately more mature than boys”, and you get yourself this apparent behemoth of righteousness that was literally the sole reason why those two silly boys survived everything, and don’t you dare criticize this angel of perfection OR ELSE.

[idiopath-fic-smile]

more 1950s lesbian amis

continued from this.

in which grantaire makes coffee, and a friend.

“Good morning,” said Chester. “Is that a new dress?”

It was not. Grantaire looked up warily from her sketchpad. She wasn’t good-looking enough for this to be anything but a ploy.

“Do you need something, Chester?” she asked in her sweetest voice, all cotton candy fumes.

“Secretary’s out this morning,” he told her. “That’s why there’s no coffee yet.” And there, it all clicked into place. 

Grantaire schooled her face as blank as she could make it; if she was going to reach his conclusion, he’d have to drag her there.

“Thank you but I picked up a cup on my way here,” she said, nodding at her half-empty styrofoam cup. After last night’s disaster at the Musain, she had been unable to even imagine the L ride to the office without a fortifying blast of caffeine. 

Chester stared meaningfully; Grantaire stared back, meaningless.

“Grantaire,” said Chester, as if talking to one very stupid, “do you think you could brew us a pot?”

Grantaire blinked. “Does this normally fall to the staff cartoonist when the secretary’s away?”

Chester made a suppressed sound of deep irritation. He spread his hands, appealing. “Listen, I could struggle through trying to make coffee for the office and no doubt poison everyone trying, or you could do it, and add that homey little touch I know all the fellas would appreciate.”

Homey. It was not a word you’d apply to Grantaire’s garden-level one-bedroom, which boasted stained wallpaper and a stove straight out of the Coolidge administration. Homely, maybe. Chester was the one with a home, and a wife, and a fat little baby and the money for a comfortable life.

“It’s only fair to divide the work according to natural aptitude, sweetheart,” Chester was saying, and it was the sweetheart that snapped Grantaire like a rubber band, that word deployed like a pat on the head, like penny candy for a crying baby, like a scrap of baloney to a dog, like it could only ever be the bitterest pity or the cruelest joke in concert with Grantaire’s face, with Grantaire’s entire being.

“‘From each according to their ability, to each according to their needs,’” she murmured in an agreeing tone.

“Now you got it,” Chester started, then frowned.

“Karl Marx, Chester,” said Grantaire. “Keep up, or someone might need to place a call to ol’ Joe.”

Chester’s entire countenance soured. “This is why you should leave it to the men to make the jokes,” he said, “and stick to what you can do--”

Grantaire stood. “I’ll make the coffee,” she said.

“There,” said Chester, “did that need to be such a production?”

The “Golden Ratio,” according to a high school Home Economics course which Grantaire had frankly passed by the skin of her teeth, was one to two tablespoons of coffee for every six ounces of hot water. Grantaire remembered this by virtue of having gotten it wrong many, many times. She was no good with math but the machine took thirty-six ounces of water, which meant the ideal amount of grounds was somewhere between six and twelve tablespoons.

“Stars shining bright above you,” Grantaire hummed under her breath, measuring and dumping coffee grounds into the filter. One, two, three, four, five.

Grantaire had gotten it wrong in high school because nobody in her house drank coffee. She hadn’t discovered the jolting benefits herself until her first year of art school, as the deadlines began to pile and the available time to meet them began to wane.

“Night breezes seem to whisper, I love you,” Grantaire hummed. Six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

If there had been a way to brave the choppy academic waters of work and criticism without chemical assistance, that path had been invisible to Grantaire. She had tried, she had cried, she had turned down “diet pills” that the other girl in her program swore by only because Grantaire figured her own figure couldn’t afford to be more unflatteringly stick-thin.

“Birds singing in the sycamore trees--” Eleven, twelve. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen.

The scrutiny and the pressure tempered the freedom of those heady days away from her parents. The expectation that Grantaire was only studying art as a way of killing time, until some charitable man came along to marry her, unless the poor dear simply couldn’t find anyone--she had found a survival strategy of her own, a roughly stitched-together patchwork of sarcasm and wine and more sarcasm, and coffee brewed so thick and strong it barely qualified as liquid.

“Dream a little dream of me.” Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty. Grantaire went ahead and dumped in the rest of the bag.

Grantaire was making shaky progress on her first deadline when Douglas stopped by her desk.

“Listen,” he blustered, “is this some kind of a joke?”

“Hm?”

“Your coffee’s undrinkable, it’s--” he faltered as Grantaire took a long swallow of the tarry substance in her mug. It was gritty and bitter, but by the standards of her art school years, only qualified as “medium dark.”

“Doug,” she said calmly, “if it’s too strong for you, you’re free to add plenty of milk and sugar.” She took another sip, meeting his eyes all the while. 

He spun on the heel of his expensive dress shoe. As he stormed away, she could hear him mutter, at a passive-aggressive volume designed to be just-barely audible, but audible nonetheless, “No wonder she doesn’t have a man yet, can’t even make coffee right.”

“Grantaire?”

She looked up. The secretary was back from wherever she’d been, apparently.

“Hello,” said Grantaire, hoping that if she kept a friendly enough countenance, the secretary might not notice that Grantaire did not remember her name. “Are you feeling better?”

The secretary smiled, polite. She was young but plain, although not as plain as Grantaire. “Thank you, it was my mother, actually. She’s a little under the weather so I stopped home to bring her some soup and heat it up for her.” Grantaire nodded as if that kind of filial duty was a part of her daily life, too. 

“Well, I hope her condition improves soon.” “Thank you, that’s very kind.” An awkward pause began to bloom. Into it, Grantaire blurted, “Sorry if you had the coffee today.” “Oh,” said the secretary, “no, no, I drink tea.” Of course she did, thought Grantaire. She had the look of someone well acquainted with the proper use of a cup and saucer. She lowered her voice slightly. “Douglas informed me all about this morning’s coffee maker adventure.” She lowered her voice a little more. “In some detail.” “Yes, I must have lost count spooning in the grounds,” said Grantaire blandly. “I can’t imagine how it slipped my mind.” “I can,” said the secretary with a crooked smile. Somehow, with both eyes wide open, she gave the impression of winking. “Say, Grantaire. I don’t suppose you could take your lunch break with me? There’s a park across the street, it’s very quiet. Private.” Grantaire nodded. “Good,” said the secretary. That crooked smile again. “My name is Combeferre, by the way.”

“You know, I saw you the other day,” said Combeferre as she neatly removed a packet of celery sticks wrapped in waxed paper from her lunch bag. “Did you.” Grantaire ran through her mental list of places she’d been over the past several days. If she was very, very lucky, maybe Combeferre simply meant that she’d glimpsed Grantaire at the Jewel, picking up some groceries for her tragically empty fridge. Combeferre glanced around the park in a very natural, off-hand way. “At the Musain,” she said. Grantaire’s stomach dropped. She could feel her grip on her turkey sandwich going white-knuckled. “Chester and Murray, such a pair of jokesters,” she said at last. “I suppose I was being hazed last night--” “No, I saw you last Thursday,” said Combeferre quiety. “By yourself.” Grantaire hadn’t been in there for more than forty-five seconds. Had all of Chicago seen? She felt something bubble up inside her. “So,” said Grantaire, trying to match Combeferre’s even, calm voice. “Is this blackmail, then? I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until I’ve gotten my first check, I’m a bit light at the moment.” Combeferre blinked. “Oh dear,” she said, “oh no, you misunderstand me completely. I saw you from inside.” “You were there?” said Grantaire, feeling very dumb for not having picked up on any sign of Sapphism earlier. There was nothing obvious in her manner or dress. The comment about stopping home to see her mother might have suggested she was still living with her parents, and thus unmarried, but plenty of girls did that. Of course, not every woman of a woman-loving bent chose to broadcast it to the world like that short-haired Amazon in the bar restroom. Combeferre’s hairdo and clothes were no doubt chosen for hiding, like Grantaire’s. “Do you have plans this weekend?” Combeferre asked, and Grantaire attempted not to look entirely pole-axed. Was this a pass? Grantaire felt no immediate pull, but, wretchedly, she realized she was lonely enough to consider it. She raised her eyebrows. “You see, I belong to, um, a social organization,” Combeferre continued, unaware. “We could use some new members, and it would be so nice to know someone else at work--” “Is it a book group?” said Grantaire. “A tupperware exchange? A cat appreciation society?” Combeferre smiled. “I do like cats,” she said. “No, we’re. Hm. The Chicago branch of a group of like-minded individuals who find ourselves on a slightly divergent path from the majority of mankind. It’s a very relaxed, informal thing. We’re meeting at the apartment of a friend for spaghetti dinner on Saturday. I can give you the details if you’re interested.” “And you’re all women?” Grantaire said. “We are,” said Combeferre. What the hell. It wasn’t as if there was a line of people waiting to make Saturday night plans with her. “Alright,” said Grantaire. “Wonderful.” Combeferre gave her an address, although Grantaire didn’t know the city well enough for it to mean much without a map. Her eyes briefly scanned the park again. “And I should add that you don’t have to use your real name,” she said. “In fact, I think most of us don’t.” “Some tupperware club you’re running, lady,” said Grantaire, and Combeferre half-laughed. “I was going to leave you a note,” said Combeferre, “on your desk, explaining everything in advance, but then my mother was sick and there wasn’t any time.” “If anyone saw what you wrote,” Grantaire started. “In shorthand, of course. None of the men would understand.” “I can’t read shorthand,” said Grantaire. “I took a course on it but that was about the time I realized my future would need to be elsewhere.” “I was going to be a physician,” said Combeferre dreamily. Grantaire turned to face her. “I had the grades, you know. Biology was my best subject, and I enjoy helping people.” “What happened?” Grantaire asked uneasily.

“Oh,” said Combeferre. “I had a marvelous professor. I’d asked him to write me a recommendation, and he pulled me aside and explained that if I’d have to do twice the work for half the respect, which was of course the truth. I considered nursing, but a life of emptying bedpans and dodging the head doctor’s wandering hands didn’t appeal.” “So instead you empty inboxes and dodge Richard’s wandering hands,” said Grantaire. “You’ll fit right in with my friends,” Combeferre said with another smile. “I’m sorry about what my friend said to you last night. She has an excellent heart and is a key part of our set, but she can be somewhat severe.”

“Do you mean the Hippolyta who cornered me in the powder room?” “Undoubtedly,” said Combeferre. Then, “oh, and definitely don’t call her that!” “Wouldn’t dream of it,” said Grantaire.

[bbykpoper]

Chapter 1 // Masterlist

GENRE: mafia au, fluff, a bit of smut, a smudge of angst if you squint your eyes hard enough, possible fantasy????

SYNOPSIS: A centuries old feud which kept itself silent suddenly ignites once again as two warring gangs face each other for the first time. A family of established immortals who came together after the war, a band of humans who began remembering their past lives and officials breathing down their neck threaten the world once again as fantasy and reality clash in the form of a young man hell bent on being in the lead and a young woman hell bent on ending this meaningless feud. A story will unfold before you now, questioning your morals as well as grinding your nerves to the edge.

“A princess turned assassin?”

“A coward turned prince?”

Who will survive the last wave of this war?

°˖✧

“My hands are stained with blood... yet again...” There came a soft whisper in the distance as droplets of red fell to the floor.

The strong stench of blood glided to the young man’s nostrils as he observed the scene before him. A body laid on the ground, it’s face unrecognizable as a young woman of short stature stood, her fists slightly bruised and bloody. Her strong willed eyes were trained on him and he extended his arm to beckon her towards him. 

“You’re becoming more vicious in your battles.” He spoke as the young woman moved towards him, jumping down from the ring in which two other men began cleaning the now deceased body. “What seems to be bothering you?”

“It seems our rivals have decided to invade our business inside the ring.” The girl let her companion clean her fists as she observed the body being thrown out. “The boy they sent was said to be a rising star in their ranks, his ego decided to challenge me and he ended up where he is now. It angers me how much they seem to refuse to stay in peace and in their own lanes.”

“It seems that they wish to take over the underworld.” The man’s groaning blue eyes met her dark ones. “Forcas calls for us all. It seems he has had enough of peace as well.”

With a small nod she went after the taller man, covering her face more with the black mask she grew used to. It was rare to see her without it, but today she decided to keep her face free, so that it would be the last thing her poor oponent saw before she beat him to death without mercy. 

“Would you like my jacket?” Her companion asked her as he noticed the attire she sported. A simple sports bra and leggings. 

Not exactly an outfit she would like to show herself in before the head of their family, but the meeting seemed urgent, and she didn’t have time to change.

“No, it’s quite fine.” She simply stated, climbing into the black SUV after him. “The meeting seems urgent, has he finally come to terms with what it is we are to do?”

“By his tone of voice, I would say it’s quite serious.” Her companion placed his hand on hers, his eyes trained on the clear night sky as the stars twinkled in his eyes. “The stars have shifted drastically. Our futures are in danger Fae. Yours more so than ours.”

The woman didn’t say anything as she kept quiet beside him, allowing their fingers to weave together. They both felt each others pulse through their wrist, something which calmed them down and finally the woman could breathe more calmly and freely. The car took a swift turn into the outskirts of town and headed down the road, getting further on the outskirts. Soon enough the car pulled up to a large mansion in the middle of nowhere, two large men opening the doors for the two passengers.

“Good evening Miss, Sir.” They greeted them and both nodded their heads in greeting. “Leader is waiting for you in the war room.”

The small woman rolled her eyes at the mention of the room but still obediently followed their guide. As they entered she felt a sudden warmth crawl up her skin and she moved to the left, evading the overly excited man-child that hit her companion straight on. 

“Why did you move?” He whinned turning to her. “I don’t want to hug Tae, I wanted to hug you y/n.”

“Stop whinning Jungkook.” Her companion spoke up as he helped steady him on his legs. “She did that to tease you.” He rolled his eyes along.

“Is that true?” He went over to her.

“A little bit.” She answered him with a small giggle. “You’re just super cute when you get frustrated.” She pinched his cheeks, laughing when he slapped her hand away.

“I’m a grown man, older than you not to mention and handsome.” He gritted out with a pout. “I’m not cute.”

The trio went further into the large mansion, small talk flowing between them with ease. The room they were going to was located on the first floor but deeper into the mansion, closer to the west wing. The interior was decorated like a European museum if you asked any person that came to visit. Golden chandeliers, paintings lining the walls, an elaborate statue here and there, and of course high doors and even higher ceilings. The young woman and her companion still kept holding hands as they were announced in the room and they took their respected seats at the oval shapped table housing 8 seats that were now finally full.

“Congradulations on your win y/n.” The tallest amongs them spoke up, a soft smile on his features. “I hear the young boy is unrecognizable.”

“Thank you. I tried to not let my emotions take over me.” She spoke up, swiftly taking off her mask. “But then he decided to open his mouth and I just didn’t have the strength to control myself anymore.”

“I’ve heard.” A small hologram began showing the file of the man who she had her fight with earlier this night. “Na Jaemin. The boy wonder of NCT who was supposed to quietly climb up in the ring but he just had to run his mouth next to our little y/n here.” The man laughed. “It seems he was favoured by their bomb expert Taeil.” 

“Does this mean they will retaliate by blowing me up?” The girl raised her eyebrow earning a hearty laugh from her left.

“No no, they aren’t that dumb.” The man who sat next to her had the widest smile on his face, bopping the girl’s nose with little to no force at all. “They don’t know he is dead. Well, not yet at least.” 

“They don’t know?” Tae asked from her right side.

“No. We made sure that people think that we just kindly locked him up somewhere.” A man next to Jungkook spoke up, drawing their attention to him. “For now, we made sure that nobody from that match says a word outside on the streets. We don’t need children on our doorstep seeking vengance.”

“I’m sorry.” She spoke up.

“Why are you apologizing?” The head of the table asked, visibly confused.

“I let my emotions take over and I killed him.” She sighed, slumping in her seat.

“Kid, your job is to kill off the pests we don’t need.” The man with distinctive red eyes spoke up to her, he stood up and walked over to her, earning Taehyung’s side eye. “Everybody that goes up against you in the ring knows what the fate is if it’s your bad day.” The man squated next to her, sliding his hand up her arm to cup her cheek. “Now I know you weren’t having a bad day, so what did he say to you that made you so angry?”

“He commented how he’d easily take me down and make me his little cock hold afterwards.” She said with an unamused facial expression, which had seven different men stare at her with wide, angry eyes.

“I say, we kill the whole den of idiots.” Jungkook said, already on his feet ready to leave.

“Take a seat Azazel.” The head of the table spoke up, silencing the whole room. 

“My poor baby.” The hand gently caressed her cheek, pulling back and standing straight. “What should we do Forcas? The NCT pests have been getting bolder. And now they are trying to take us out from the business we began?”

“I know, though I have this idea which I think you will like.” The head of the table, a tall man with sleeked back grey hair, smirked with danger in his golden eyes. 

°˖✧

On the other side of the city, deep in the abandoned district of Seoul, a group of men decided to come together this night, worried faces painting all of the newcommers. The two people standing guard at the front looked at each other when the final car pulled up and the two men walked in.

“Isn’t it weird that the big bosses are here?” One of the men spoke up.

“Yeah, but to be honest are you surprised?” The other sighed. 

The inside was fairly nicely decorated, the inspiration coming from old Italian mafia films, the distinctive arches holding up most of the structure. The dinning room was currently occupied with seven people, two of them standing and facing each other in a heated argument. The newcommers that took a seat at the table sighed as they calmly looked up at the two standing men in the middle of an argument. 

“Both of you, that’s enough.” One of the men spoke, his dark blue hair neatly styled as his eyebrow stood up in disapprovement. “Lucas, Baby. Sit down.”

With a groan the two addressed sat down with glares still present on their faces. 

“Is everyone present?” He added on, looking over to his right hand man, a tall, fair haired young man.

“Everyone that needs to be.” He answered.

“Good. Johnny you may take over with the report.” The blue haired man said, loosening the tie around his neck while the fair haired man stood up and went over to the head of the dinning table.

“Thank you Boss.” Johnny spoke up and looked over his notes, his eyes stopping at the picture of the masked girl. “As you all know, we’ve successfully infeltrated the underground fight ring of the Bangtan hold and I’ve recieved intel that Na Jaemin has progressed in the ring. Sooner or later he will be going up against their top fighters. However, he has not conntacted his superior so what’s the deal with that Taeil?”

“I don’t know, he had strict instructions to conntact me when he jumped ranks in the ring but he hasn’t.” An aggitated man answered his question, barely looking up from his laptop.

“I’m telling you, the kid is fine. He’s probably just shagging a girl or two. Typical Jaemin stuff.” One of the men who was standing and arguing earlier spoke up, Lucas to be more precise.

“No! He is not.” The other, Haechan cut in. “He’s dead. He was made and they probably killed him!”

“Calm down both of you!” The dark blue haired man, Boss, yelled out. The silence following becoming eerie. “Let Johnny finnish and then on your own time go and beat it out or shoot each other but not now!”

“Thank you Boss.” Johnny smirked, turning to the table and throwing down a letter and a few pictures. “Haechan was right about one thing. Na Jaemin was made and we got this letter delivered today.” The reactions to the news of one of their own being made had them all turn serious, eyes fixed on the pictures on the table. “These are the three Bangtan members responsible for the underground fight scene.” He pointed to the first picture. “Azazel, lead recruiter whose blessing you need to enter the ring or even be thought of participating.” His finger moved to the second picture and his breath withered a bit in his thorat as he said the name. “Fae, leader and fighter. She is the one responsible and the big boss down there. They say nobody survives a fight with her.” His gaze stayed lingering on the picture until Boss cleared his throat and Johnny moved on to the last picture. “And lastly Solas, Fae’s right hand man, always by her side.” Then he raised the piece of paper from the table. “This is an invitation letter to a race they are holding tomorrow night. It’s signed by Forcas, their leader and it states that if we wish to know more information about Na Jaemin’s situation we better show up.It’s addressed to you personaly Moon Taeil.”

“What is their game?” The person in question turned his head to face the taller boy. “Why address it to me?”

“They are aware that Jaemin was under you. Which makes me wonder what more are they aware of?” Boss spoke, glancing at Johnny. “Brain, Johnny and Bulls Eye. You three will visit the race. Take one of the cars if yoou have to. Find out what they want, but be careful. We may never know what awaits at those organized races they hold.”

[kyanitegemverse]

Reunion - Ark AU -

Here we are! A bit about two idiots in love seeing each other again. 

some things will have links to help with some context! 

It was dawn when Avry woke up. The little makeshift camp she and Bishop had set up was hardly comfortable, what with the two of them and Bishop’s Argentavis all huddled under one roof. She groaned as she sat up, her back making a loud snap as she stretched. How long has it been now that she and Bishop had been stuck away from the rest of their little group? She wasn’t too sure. The days all seemed to blur together since she woke up here. How long exactly had it been? A few months? It had to have been considering the lunar cycle had gone through at least a few times. Her brow furrowed, a frown making its way onto her freckled face as thoughts came rushing back. Sometimes it was impossible to not think of how she was so far from everyone she cared about. All it took sometimes was the littlest things to remind her.

A stupid pun here, an excited tangent there. Thoughts of orange fur, red hair Avry had dyed, and long black expressive ears came bursting through. A reminder of a friend who put everyone else before herself. A reminder of warm fuzzy hugs just when Avry needed them. Off key duets belted out at the tops of lungs without a care in the world, and tired blue eyes that hid the stress the twitching tail betrayed. Sure they made her sad and gave her a dull ache, wishing for nothing more than for one of Aurora’s bone crushing hugs. But this? This was different.

The Moon and stars were a nightly reminder of the one person she loved more than anything. The one person who had stuck with her through everything. It reminded her of countless nights in her teenage years, looking up at the stars and the full moon, wondering if she was looking at them too.  The tears of joy the two shared at their first in person meeting at the airport that one spring. The many many nights they had stayed up way too late, talking about everything, nothing and all in between. Of how the sun shone on her skin and the wind tossed her hair during a Totally-Not-A-Date flight around town. Where one glance over at her with those violet eyes had stolen the breath right from Avry’s lungs and set a fire under her skin. If it weren’t for the whistling wind around them Avry was sure her pounding heart would have been heard. ‘Oh’ she had thought at the realization, and the questions that swarmed her mind as she could have sworn she saw the faintest dusting of pink on the shapeshifters cheeks. A first kiss, awkward and clumsy, with foreheads crashing into one another. Giddy nervous laughter as a second attempt is made with better results. 

The thoughts made Avry wonder. Did the others know she was stuck here? Did they care? ‘No of course they care!’ a voice cried out inside, trying to reason with her doubts and worries. But what if they didn’t? We’re they looking for her? Was she thinking of all their shared experiences too? ‘Does she miss me like I miss her?’ 

Something hard and cold brushed against her shoulder, snapping her out of her thought spiral. She was curled up against one of the shack walls, arms wrapped tightly around her legs. How long had she been crying? Red eyes looked over to see the beak of Macaw resting gently on her arm. “Hey buddy don’t worry I’m okay.” Her voice croaked out, reaching over to give the giant bird a scratch on the top of its head. The poor thing had been through just as much as Bishop and herself. A broken wing was objectively worse than an aching heart, especially now that the bird was their only real  means to getting back to their camp. Something did strike her as odd though. It had been at least a few days or so since the trip out to scout out the area just south of them. Surely the other three would have at least tried to look for them? She looked over at the bird again, noticing the expectant look in its eyes. “You must be hungry  huh. How about I try and get us something to eat.” 

With that Avry stood up, Stretching as best she could in the cramped space before grabbing her spear. Macaw turned to follow before Avry held up her hand. “You stay here okay? Make sure he doesn’t get hurt.” She said, nodding over to where Bishop was curled up. She made her way outside of the shack before the bird could attempt to follow her and set off hunting. 

It didn’t take her long to scavenge a decent amount of the edible berries Colby had taught her about. “Red, Blue, and Yellow. Don’t eat the black or purple ones.”  came the voice of the cook in her mind. 

Avry rolled her eyes at the phantom reminder. “But what if I want to try the purple ones.” She eyed the one on the bush in front of her. It was just sitting there. Taunting her with its inability to be eaten. Just one wouldn’t hurt right? She could finally figure out why her stegosaurus was so wild about them. They had to taste good then right? Right? Was she really going to try this? Avry looked up and around, knowing full well she was alone and far enough away from the prying eyes of her group mates and their judgement on these sorts of dumb ideas. Yes. She absolutely was going to try this. Plucking the purple berry from the tree, she held it up, sticking her tongue out to give it a little taste test. Or at least she would have if a loud thunderous roar didn’t cause her to toss the thing as it shocked her out of her concentration. Whipping her head around to the direction of the roaring, her eyes widened as panic set in. It wasn’t hard to see the Carnotaurus  in the distance, hell she could practically feel the ground shaking beneath her as it walked this way. If she moved on from here now she could avoid running into it for longer. “Alright I guess I’ll have to figure that out another time.” She muttered to herself as she wandered off, away from the destination of the titanic carnivore. 

A few hours passed and Avry was beginning to remember why exactly she left the hunting side of this to Cheddar. These obnoxious birds had been ever so slightly out of her range for who knows how long now. Perhaps longer than Avry would like to admit. But she had them now. There was no escape for these little dodo bastards. Finally some good fucking food. Or at least it would be if she could just catch the thing on the end of her spear. She broke out into a sprint from her hiding spot at one of the little flightless birds. It squawked and bolted off in a random direction in a panic with Avry close behind. It ducked past a few trees and took a sharp turn to the right, missing the sharp tip of the spear by a feather. “Are you kidding me?!” the woman growled in frustration before continuing her pursuit of the stupid bird.  Taking the sharp turn she found herself tumbling to the ground. She had tripped on something. A root? This was just her luck. The carnivore earlier, now losing her  potential dinner? She frowned as she sat up. “Good one Rayne. Can’t even catch a bird that has no self preservation instincts. Oh yeah Avry Rayne, hunter of the year right here.” She stopped herself as she turned to look at what she had actually tripped on. 

That was no root. Oh. Oh no. No.. that was absolutely a foot. A foot belonging to a rather familiar looking carnivore. “Oh fuck.” she muttered under her breath, unsure of what to do. How had she not heard the Carnotaurus coming? Was she really that focused on her hunt that she failed to see the danger that was so close to her? Wow this day really was getting worse by the minute wasn’t it. 

It was about to get a whole lot worse as the dinosaur above her moved as she was stuck frozen to the spot. The creature let out a low rumbling, almost sounding confused as to what had just happened itself. Avry could only watch from her spot on the ground as it turned. This was no place to stay but she really had no chance of out running this thing. If she remembered all the books she had as a kid, this thing could run at a max of fifty kilometers an hour. She always wondered why that exact fact stood out to her after all these years. Maybe she was about to figure out why. Funny how things like that work out.

Given there really was no hope in running from this beast, the best hope Avry had at not becoming lunch herself was to deter it with the spear. Backing up against one of the trees, she used it to stand herself up, shaking hands pointing the spear up at the thing that was absolutely going to send her back to the camp in just about the worst way she could think of.  The beast seemed to be eyeing her, a low growl in its throat as it stepped closer.

“S-stay back!” She warned, knowing full well the thing wouldn’t understand a word she said. “Trust me buddy I’m kinda lanky. “ She let out a nervous laugh. “Y-yeah that's right. I’m all stringy and gross and probably taste really game-y. There's really not enough meat here to be a snack! You’d be better off with a few dodos!” 

The Carnotaurus was still looking at her, moving its head from side to side, as if it was curious in its own meat eating way. The low growl continued to rumble in its throat as it stood up a little straighter, causing Avry to flinch. She held the spear out, tensing her muscles and shutting her eyes tight. This was it. This was how she died. Died stumbling through unknown territory doing her best to survive. But as with most things it seemed like her best just wasn’t good enough. She hadn’t felt this small and helpless in a long time as she waited for the feeling of sharp teeth clamping down on her.

But the feeling never came.

In fact the low rumble had stopped as well. But it hadn’t wandered off or she would have felt the heavy steps of it walking off completely disinterested. So what was it doing? Why was it taking so long?

“Avry?”

The sound of a familiar voice made her heart miss a beat. Daring to open her eyes, the sight before her caused Avry to gasp. The large prehistoric predator that was staring her down in her final moments had all but vanished. In its place however, was a person. Someone she had figured she may never see again. Was she dreaming? Because if she was this would be the point where she’d wake up back in her bed at camp. She did no such thing however as she stared at the shapeshifter in front of her with disbelief, shoulders slowly lowering as the tension in her body was let go. Avry opened her mouth to speak, hardly able to form words due to the emotional whiplash she was experiencing. 

“Avry is that really you?” The person called out to her again, sounding on the verge of tears herself. She too was frozen in place, mind racing probably much like her own was.

“Jess?” The name escaped her as if on its own, And Avry watched as the person responded. Straightening their posture a little bit, the hint of a smile making its way onto her face. Avry’s vision blurred as the mix of emotions came welling up to the surface. Without so much as a second thought, she tossed the spear to the side and broke out into a run. “JESSI!” 

“It is you!” The shapeshifter exclaimed, breaking out into a run towards her girlfriend. The two met in the middle, practically crashing into each other as they met in the middle of the space that had been between them. Avry wrapped her arms around Jessi the moment she was able to, burying her face into the crook of the other woman’s neck. She was openly sobbing at this point, hands grabbing at the fabric of Jessi’s shirt, as if needing some way of knowing this was all real. A moment later she could feel the shapeshifter’s arms wrap tightly around her, trying to pull her impossibly closer. Time seemed to stand still for the pair as they shared their first embrace in who knows how long. No words could exactly describe the mix of emotions Avry was experiencing. How long? How long had Jessi been there just ever so out of reach? Could she have found her sooner? If she had only looked then maybe just maybe the pair of them could have been surviving together from the beginning. 

“I thought I’d never see you again.” Avry said, voice muffled slightly from being up against the were-dragon's neck. She felt one of Jessi’s arms move, hand going to gently play with Avry’s hair - an action that did wonders for calming her down. 

“I’ve missed you so much Raynedrop.” Jessi murmured, tightening her grip around Avry’s waist. “There hasn’t been a day that's gone by where you weren’t in my thoughts.” The shapeshifter let out a shaky breath. “Everyday and night I that I could was filled with wishing to have you in my arms again.” The shapeshifter chuckled at her own mushy bullshit. “And now here you are, stumbling into my life by pure chance once again. It's almost like you’re supposed to be here or something.” 

Avry didn’t need to look at Jessi to know there was one of those lopsided grins on her face. “Oh can it you big sap.” She said with a laugh, moving to look into those stunning violet eyes. “I missed you too.” Sure enough, that lopsided grin had made its way onto Jessi’s face. She brought her hand to cup Avry’s cheek, thumb wiping away a stray tear. Avry leaned into the affectionate gesture, a lovestruck look on her face. For once the world was still. Nothing seemed to dare disturb the pair and their reunion and for the first in a long time, everything felt like it was going to be okay.

 The shapeshifter let out a happy sigh, placing a gentle kiss to Avry’s forehead. “Just wait till you meet the others at camp. I’m sure they’ll be surprised to see another person with me.” Jessi said with a grin.

“Wait. Others?” Avry questioned, raising an eyebrow. Then the realization hit her. “Oh fuck. Jess I can’t go! Not yet. I still have to get back to the makeshift camp! I’ve got another person and an injured giant vulture with me. Ah shit Bishop’s gonna kill me if I don't come back with some sort of food. They’re both probably starving.” A worried look made its way onto Avry’s face as Jessi moved her hand to brush some of her bangs out of the way and tuck them away behind Avry’s ear. 

“Woah hey it's all good! Tell you what. I have some extra rations with me. We’ll get something on the way back for the bird and all of us can head back to my camp. Okay?” The shapeshifter let go of the embrace, walking over to pick up the spear Avry had dropped not that long ago. “You also might want this. Just don’t point it at me alright?”

Avry turned to watch where Jess was going and put her hands on her hips at the remark. “Oh well excuse me. Need I remind you that you were a giant meat eating dinosaur? What the hell were  you even doing transformed like that? I didn’t realize you could shift into dinos!” She took the spear as the pair began to walk back the way Avry had come from earlier. 

“I couldn’t. At least not before waking up here. Now I can’t really change into anything else.” She answered with a shrug. “Now come on let's get travelling in style.” Jessi stretched out her arms as the changed, bright red scales flowing down them like a wave out to her hands which now had talons adorning each digit. A pair of wings stretched out from her back, ripping part of her shirt in the process. Lastly a long scaly tail with that iconic arrow head tail tip protruded from the base of the shapeshifters spine. “It’s been awhile since we did this so I thought it might be kind of nice.” 

“You want to sweep me off my feet again? Aww babe that's so sweet!” Avry leapt into Jessi’s outstretched arms without hesitation, wrapping an arm around her neck. “Hope you don’t mind me backseat flying again.” 

“Oh no don’t worry. I expect you to navigate at least part of the way back.” The response came with unfurled wings and a running start as Jess lifted off the ground, the pair setting off back to the makeshift shack. Together.

[conaionaru]

Honor and Blood (Ivar the Boneless)

Brother and Sister

Synopsis: Silas and Vanya talk on her name day. The pregnancy is coming to an end soon.

Warnings: Silas, Toxic family, sibling rivalry, mentions of murder, angst, fluff

Tags:

@queenbeeta @heavenly1927 @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @lol-haha-joke @youbloodymadgenius​ @didiintheblog​

P.S. Anything in cursive is Old Norse. Anything in bold and cursive is a memory.

I don’t own the gifs. Also, thank you for your support. I really appreciate it. If you want to be tagged please write me<3

f there was one thing Vanya hated, then it's definitely seeing Silas walking around looking down at everyone. Or maybe it's just Silas himself; after all, he isn't exactly the most likable person. Stithulf is probably the only one who truly cares for Vanya's cruel brother and not for his title. The blond knight seemed to her like a good influence on her brother. He cared about the people and Silas's survival, which no one else bothered to do up until now. She just hopes that his concern is sincere and not a front he put on to win her trust.

"I was never happier that I didn't have a sister. Just imagining him as our brother in law makes me sick." Sigurd commented, sitting next to her on his bench, tuning his oud as she stitched a pattern on Ubbe's new shirt.

Vanya shrugged at his choice of words and looked down at her stitching. She was so absorbed into her thoughts and watching Silas that she butchered a part of her work. The ginger cursed under her breath and tried fixing it. Her husband's older brother snickered at her adorable rage, but shut up when she glared at him.

"You do have a sister now. And she doesn't like you talking about her brother that way." She snapped angrily as Sigurd raised an eyebrow at her tone.

"Please don't tell me you like him. I get that he is your family, but Silas doesn't seem like a good brother. When was he ever nice to you?" Sigurd asked, thinking back to his own brother. He and Ivar were brothers, but if someone were to treat him the way Silas treats Vanya, he would kill them. Only Sigurd gets to insult Ivar and get away with it. Afterall they are brothers; it would get boring if everybody were nice to each other.

Vanya saw Stithulf leave her brother's side and walk over to the other knights, both Silas and the knight seemed annoyed and sour. "When were you ever nice to Ivar?"

"When he was a babe. Things were easier when he couldn't talk."

"You mean when neither of you talked." Vanya pointed out, walking over to her brother's side, gathering all her courage to talk to him. "Are you alright?"

Silas glared down at his redheaded sibling and walked away from her. He stomped his way past two of his knights who looked at him, terrified. "Get out of my way, you lowlife filth!" He spat at them as they made a path for him.

"I am sorry, I am sure you bathe regularly. Have a nice day!" Vanya apologized in her brother's stead as she heard Sigurd run after her, cursing her sudden getaway.

"Stop following me!" Silas spat at her, turning on his heal. His nostrils flared in rage; the king looked like a bull ready to charge. "What do you want, Vanya?"

"I want to talk. Like civilized people would."

"Do you take me for uncivilized, you worthless bitch?"

She definitely didn't miss these types of conversations with him. Why does she even try? "I don't want to fight. I want to talk to you privately, without it seeming like you will kill me."

Silas huffed at her comment and mentioned for the shore. She sat down on the pier to rest her legs while he stood over her, glaring at the water instead of her. "Talk, or I will leave."

"What did you argue with Stithulf about?" She tried not to sound demanding and timid to soothe his anger a little bit. It would be easier if he were less murderous.

Silas sighed and gave her a letter from his pocket. It held the royal seal of Slegia, which could only mean that their mother sent it. Vanya opened it and read over the writing in astonishment. "Dear King Silas, I wish to inform you that I got married again while you were away. Me and Lord Ceolmund will continue living in the castle. Have a safe journey, and greet Vanya for me. Greetings, Queen Mother Siflæd." It was short and to the point, and an obvious dismissal of Silas's authority as she married without his consent or knowledge.  

"She did it to spite me. I forbid her to bring any more lovers to the castle, so she married the one that would anger me the most." He seethed, tearing the letter out of her hands and ripping it into pieces that he threw into the sea. "I want to raise my armies and cut off his head!"

"Maybe she did it out of love. Or she is with child. Whatever the reason, he is our new father now. Murdering him isn't a wise choice." Vanya reasoned, trying to remember if she ever met this Lord Ceolmund.

Silas shook his head and slammed his hand against the post he leaned on. Vanya jumped at the sudden outburst. "Oh, he is as much of father to us as Siflæd was a mother. Ceolmund is rich and young, a perfect victim to her charms. The moment he returns to his senses, she will drop him, pregnant or not."

"If you know that, then why fight with Stithulf? Why plan a murder if the outcome is obvious?" Vanya pressed, trying to decipher her brother's thinking process.

The King spat on the ground in disgust and looked at her stomach. "Because this poses a problem for my marriage."

"Your marriage? You will take a wife?" Vanya questioned, failing to imagine Silas as a husband. He always seemed like the type that wouldn't marry even if his life depended on it.

He leaned into her face and smirked. "I am supposed to marry Lady Eoforhild. She will give me an heir and connect Slegia with Ecbert. Considering that she is his brother's granddaughter, he will support us against threats to keep her safe. But Mother destroyed the plan the moment she married that halfwit."

"How does that destroy your plan? You can still marry her."

"Ceolmund is Eoforhild's father, you dumb cow. The deal was to marry her, as it is the honorable thing to do after I took her maidenhead, leaving her no longer a virgin and unfit to marry anyone. She seduced me at a dance on my name day, that bought dishonor on their family name, so Ecbert offered me her hand in exchange for his armies. They keep their reputation and get some form of power over Slegia, while I get allies and heirs. And that option is now out of question when Mother went behind my back and married my betrothed's father!"

"And now the church won't allow you to marry her anymore." The ginger sighed in defeat, seeing the reason behind his anger. Their mother destroyed a chance of protection and the poor girl's life.

Silas rolled his eyes at that and looked back at Sigurd, who stood behind them, glaring at Silas as if he will beat him with his oud soon. "Mother did it to gain back some sense of control. She has been throwing tantrums since you left; she is humiliating herself and the whole kingdom. She always hated being in the background; that's why she acts out like a child. Just like when Father was alive. That's the truth of it all."

Vanya knew what he was talking about, when Osmond was still alive Siflæd paraded her lovers around to spite him and his lovers. Their relationship was anything but love; they hated each other and fought daily behind closed doors. After his funeral, the vicious cycle was over, and she could do as she pleased. That is till Silas got fed up with her behavior and forbid her to take any more lovers. And now she married his future father in law.

"The truth is always either terrible or boring. Why can't there be a middle ground? Like she married him out of love and not spite."

"She doesn't know love, not to me or anyone else. She is a dark pit of hate and selfishness. Siflæd never held her tongue about me being a monster, but we both know she is no better. The only difference is that I have no problem showing it." He sneered in his rage, stomping off to either brood or plan murder. Whatever it was, Vanya understood his feelings. A perfect opportunity thrown out of the window because Siflæd got something to prove.

"Well, that was eventful," Sigurd commented, helping Vanya up. The ginger flinched in pain, causing the Ragnarsson to panic. "Is it the babe? Is it coming? Please say no, you can't give birth here!"

Vanya rolled her eyes at his hysterics and wrapped her arm around his. "Just a kick. The child is stronger than one would think." Sigurd sighed and helped her walk back to the Great hall to collect her stitching.

"A gift, Princess. A pretty rose for a pretty girl." A woman stopped them, giving the Saxon a flower before walking away.

"Well, that was strange," Vanya muttered, cradling the gift in her hand, smelling the sweet aroma.

Sigurd snorted and pointed at the rose. "Maybe it's an offering. Hvitserk heard some people say you are Freyja or Frigg in disguise."

The pregnant girl gawked at him in shock. How could the people even think of her as a goddess? What about her seemed divine and godlike? "I am not a goddess, Sigurd! I am human, just like the rest of you. I'm not special, who am I to think I am special?."

"Pretty, smart, kind, selfless, lots of patience considering your husband. You are right, nothing special at all. I guess we are all just naive." The sarcasm was strong with that one, and it made her smile. It was nice to be seen, but she would prefer a little less worship. She wasn't a god or anything near Freyja and Frigg. Vanya is and always was a plain mortal born into money. There are thousands of them all over Midgard. "And you should get used to getting gifts. It is your name day today. You are seventeen now, Little bird."

Vanya chuckled and smiled at the passing people. A year ago, she wasn't pregnant, married, or living in Kattegat. Things change so fast it's almost scary. Everything she went through in the last year feels like it happened a decade ago. "Oh I will still complain about getting gifts, I will just limit for Ivar's ear before we go to bed.

"Well, I hope you won't complain about my gift. I think you will like it."

"No promises, Brother." She teased as he snorted, shaking his head.

[scoobydoominuscoobydoo]

Can you write and example of "good shaphne angst?"

Oh there are so many different categories of angst that could be considered good but this tends to be my default so here you go!

(This was a slow process and I’m super sorry for the wait but writers block was intense the past couple of weeks!)

-

Daphne was no novice when it came to being tied up.

The whole routine of getting constricted by a bunch of rope and tossed into the nearest crypt or sarcophagus had gotten old and the amount of time it took for the gang to find her again was shrinking. It gave her just enough time to assess the damages done to her manicure or wonder how well she did on her chemistry test that Monday. It had all become rather lighthearted to her (at this point she had to get used to it the poor girl practically carried a big neon sign begging criminals in rubber masks to kidnap her).

That is - when she didn’t sense any immediate danger.

Men in masks had the tendency to just toss their hostages (Daphne) somewhere (see previous crypts or sarcophagus) and then forget about them which had worked out in Daph’s favor for the most part.

She’s really trying to separate herself entirely from the situation she’s in now. Being handcuffed to a lead pipe was not the same as being tied up with rope. The rope would start to scratch and burn her skin at this point if she was still struggling to get out of it. She usually wasn’t, just to avoid the aforementioned scratching and burning. The handcuffs however, started digging into her wrists right from the get-go and even if Daphne was perfectly still she could feel how raw the skin was becoming.

She wasn’t stowed away in some abandoned storage shed behind the creepy house at the end of the street that nobody talks about. No - Daph was actually cuffed to a lead pipe and sitting right behind the man who had captured her. That was all she was able to discern about her captor; the broad shoulders and large hands couldn’t belong to a woman. Although she has been surprised before. The space seemed to be some sort of rinky dink office with file cabinets and a big mahogany desk in the center of the room.

The man in the mask was currently sitting at this desk.

It sounded like he was shuffling through papers, Daphne would occasionally hear the scratch of a pencil. She noted that he was very careful not to speak around her - she wondered if she would recognize his voice if he spoke. I wasn’t much of a clue but Daph was doing anything she could to not let the nerves get to her.

‘Amazing that being tied up and alone in a crypt is more relaxing than this.’ Daphne thought, joking about the situation made her feel a little more at ease.

Shaggy was a lot better at it but he wasn’t here and Daph kept being plagued by the terrible thought that him and the rest of the gang had no earthly idea where she was.

If her mouth wasn’t sealed by a strip of duct tape than you would see her lower lip tremble. The image of Fred breaking down the door to this office was becoming more and more akin to a hopeless dream. Daphne was losing hope and she was losing it fast.

She ran scenarios in her head of the worst possible things this man could do to her and shuddered at all of the ones she genuinely feared. Over and over again, on repeat in her mind. Daph had no clue how long she was in that office but by the time her captor had stood from his chair and pressed the foul smelling cloth to her nose - Daphne’s legs had gone numb.

The last thing she remembered before darkness were vibrant green eyes. Eyes she had definitely seen somewhere before.

Daph awoke to a jarring change in scenery.

The cramped office was now what looked to be an abandoned warehouse. Although her vision was semi-blurry and her head was killing her, Daphne knew where she was. They had been here once before while investigating the case but had quickly ruled it as a dead end and crossed it off the map. She then noticed a second thing - it was nighttime.

Daph had first been taken in the late afternoon and thrown in the trunk of an old  blue Mustang. She stayed there for a little bit (she actually fell asleep at one point because this wasn’t her first time being locked in the trunk of a car) and when she was eventually taken out night had already fallen.

‘I’ve been missing for at least two days then...’ She thought as her head began to clear up.

She, once again, had both hands cuffed to a lead pipe (this one was a little bigger though) and was resting on her knees. The concrete floor of the building was a little too cold to be comforting and that was the first time Daphne noticed her shoes were missing.

‘Ugh and I just bought those too!’

The tape was still over her mouth, although Daph didn’t see much point in shouting for help since there wasn’t much of a chance anyone would hear her. It was at that point that Daphne realized she was currently alone.

‘Has that asshole finally decided to ditch me?’

She barely had time to consider it when a loud creaking echoed throughout the area. Her heart leapt for a moment, against all odds somebody had decided to investigate this seemingly inconspicuous location. Then everything in her went cold when she saw the familiar white coat of the man who kidnapped her.

The culprit’s whole shtick was somewhere along the lines of zombie mad scientist. Which - as dumb as it sounds - is surprisingly intimidating. Maybe it’s just how realistic the details of his mask are.

‘Nothing is truly creepier than the uncanny valley. And mullets.’ Daphne could almost picture the eye rolls that comment would earn from the gang. It embarrassed her since humor wasn’t exactly her forte but it never stopped Daph from giving it a shot. Plus, every so often her attempts at jokes would earn a soft laugh from Shaggy. And those laughs sent butterflies storming in her stomach.

Suddenly, the lump is back in her throat.

She misses him. She misses them. And she’s worried that they’re pulling their hair out trying to find her. Daphne hates seeing her friends so distressed.

She almost jumps out of her own skin when she sees that Zombie Albert Einstein is standing directly in front of her, just staring down at her.  

Without missing a beat, Daphne glares up at him and desperately hopes that it doesn’t look like she’s a step away from bursting into tears. Those green eyes seem to crinkle in amusement - evidently her anger wasn’t all that convincing. Daph’s shoulders droop and she tries with all of her might to swallow the lump in her throat.

And most likely with the desire of prolonging her suffering, Albert decides to rip the tape off her mouth.

The sudden sting is just enough to bring tears pooling in her eyes.

“Ouch...” she murmurs with a shaky gasp. Biting down hard on her lip with the hope of pulling it together. When Daphne let herself go hysterical then she went hysterical to the highest degree and then she wasn’t any help to anyone.

But then she hears a chuckle; it’s low and gravelly and so dang familiar that it’s killing her. And it’s telling her one thing:

She’s giving him exactly what he wanted.

All of her efforts to remain calm and collected have failed because he can still see how she really feels. He can see how hopeless Daphne feels.

She sucks in a deep breath through her teeth, trying desperately to hold onto that composure; trying so hard to put a face to that laugh. And it’s just not working - he’s still looking down at her like the game is finished and she never had a fighting chance.

As he turns his back to her and walks away, Daph bows her head and tries her best to cry silently. Not that there’s any point to it, Mr. Einstein already knows that she’s given up. She coughs out a laugh at the nickname she’s christened her kidnapper with in between her sobs - she can still find the humor in the situation and that brings her some comfort.

Shaggy did that all the time without any effort at all, boosting moral without even realizing it.

Daphne wonders how worried he is, if he’s able to keep the mood light so that Fred and Velma can stay focused. God she hoped so.

He was always the one to keep everyone grounded despite not ever being grounded himself. Daph couldn’t help but wish she tried more to be that for him; wish she was brave enough to say all of the things resting on her tongue.

Not just that she loved him (even though that was a biggie) but that he was valuable and mattered so much to not just her but the rest of the gang.

It was hard not to just force him to gain the self-confidence he lacked (since that was her main way of solving problems) but she knew that wasn’t what he needed.

Damn it she wished she knew what he did need.

If she ever made it out of this alive, she was gonna figure it out.

She sobbed softly through the night and eventually woke up to sunlight pouring in from the large windows and skylights above her. Leaving Daph to wonder when exactly she fell asleep and how long she’s been out.

Her decomposing captor was nowhere to be seen which fills her with a small amount of relief.

Judging by the color of the light and the angle that it was shining in on it had to be late afternoon-ish.

‘It’s been three days...’

At that thought, Daphne suddenly realized how hungry and thirsty she was. Her head was pounding her tongue was almost totally dry (which she was sure was really bad). She remained dizzy after waking up even after waiting for around an hour and Daph wondered if Albert had any intention of keeping her alive.

‘Ugh and I had just cried all night too! I just want to waste water and die of dehydration.’

She also noted that her body was still sweating, or at least trying to. This was not good, Daphne knew that she could survive for a while without food but water needed to be going through her constantly.

‘This is gonna make my skin look awful.’ Daph thought, finding it harder to make jokes about the impending doom her body was facing.

She could feel herself trembling and her stomach began to twist in knots as the whole warehouse seemed to start spinning.

Suddenly, she was shaken awake by the sound of one of the huge doors creaking open. Her whole body felt as if it was frozen inside a huge ice cube even though she knew it wasn’t cold. A shaken examination of the area showed that night had already fallen. The fact that she had lost consciousness without recollection was seriously concerning but she didn’t have time to worry about her health. Because Albert was dragging in another body.

The room may have been spinning and noises sounded a little echoey but she didn’t need to be at full strength to recognize that familiar shade of green.

Instantly her body became alert and she leaned forward, being stopped by the damned handcuffs. She’s soon able to process all the muffled noise as Shaggy talking a mile a minute.

“Listen- I-.. I don’t think you understand dude. Like we’re living in the 20th century and kidnapping minors - and probably eating them - is totally not okay! Look I get it... Entering into the workforce as a respected American citizen is hard and seems like a... like a major sacrifice of your time - not to mention your social life - but I promise you - anything is better than eating people!”

He’s being dragged in by his ankles and - despite the fact that he isn’t tied up - he isn’t making any move to escape. Which doesn’t seem on brand for the gang’s own Harry Houdini.

As Shaggy continued to nervously ramble, Albert dragged him to the center of the room beneath the largest skylight where most of the moonlight was pooling in. He was about 20 feet directly in front of her and right when Daphne was about to announce her presence to the highly distracted boy, she choked.

Daph fell into a violent coughing fit as her throat complained about the lack of moisture.

She begins to tear up and bows her head as she tries to calm the whole situation. When she looks up again, lungs on fire, her eyes lock onto Shaggy’s brown ones. He’s seen her.

Instantly his eyes widen and he begins to struggle with Albert for the freedom of his legs, “Daphne! You’re alive!”

Daph finds herself filled with so many conflicting emotions that she isn’t sure if she should laugh, cry, or yell at him for getting captured. Especially since it’s almost impossible to catch him.

Not that it matters anyway, she’s afraid to try and speak again. That fit had caused her head to pound even worse than before and now she could barely hear Shaggy over the drumming.

The fight for the freedom of Shag’s legs is brought to an abrupt end when Albert simply lets go. Shaggy’s heels crash hard into the concrete and Daph can barely make out his face contorting in pain. She pulls against the handcuffs again and this time she is aware of how irate the skin of her wrists is. Ignoring it, Daphne continues to try and lean further toward him only with the hope of seeing him in a clearer focus.

“Sha-...Shaggy...” She just barely rasps out and after a moment she can tell he probably didn’t hear her.

Perhaps because he’s a tad distracted, what with the massive demon in a lab coat pinning him down by pressing a knee right to the center of Shaggy’s chest.

“Alright! Agh- Okay!” He coughs, “You’ve made your point! A-And who...who am I to argue really?! Especially when you outweigh me by like 800 tofu dogs!” He lets out a nervous laugh and Daphne wants to cry again because she can just hear the trembling in that laugh.

She presses her forehead down against the cool warehouse floor; she can’t handle watching one of her best friends get hurt while she remains powerless to do something.

“Like, do you really wanna add assaulting a minor to the list of charges stacking up against you buddy?” Now the shaking in his voice is so clear it’s making Daph’s toes curl, she bites her lip.

A few seconds pass and Daph finds that she doesn’t hear anything, no cries of pain or anything. She has no time to deliberate if this is a good or bad thing because another few seconds go by and suddenly warm hands are gripping her shoulders. She gasps and looks up before shoving herself roughly against the wall in an effort to distance herself from whoever grabbed her. This doesn’t entirely work out in her favor because she forgot that there was a large lead pipe behind her and she had just slammed her lower back into it head-on. A loud clang echos throughout the building.

Daphne lets another shaky gasp, this time in response to the pain running all over her body.

“Jesus Daph... Like are you alright?” The warmth is back on her shoulders and it sends a wave a relief that almost overpowers all of her other senses. Evidently, Albert had been swayed by Shag’s persuasive words.

She nods slowly, “How-” Did you find me? Instead of choking out the rest of that sentence, Daphne rests her forehead on his shoulder.

Not that she even needed to finish the question - Daph knows that he understood. Shaggy just barely whispers out his answer against her ear and my God she is just so happy to hear his voice.

“Well we had gone back to ask the HR guy some more questions when we saw your shoes just chilling under a chair in the waiting room. Professor Freakenstein over there had left a note demanding some things in exchange for your location.” He said with a touch of annoyance at the end.

Daphne nodded against him, “I-... I was wondering where they were...” Whispering is so much easier than talking

“Yeah, like mystery solved.” He deadpans, she smiles in response, “Anyway... I wanted to go to the fucking police but you know how Mr. and Mrs Taking Matters Into Our Own Hands answered.

Her body tensed, “Is that why you’re here?”

There was silence for a moment and Daphne was building up quite the lecture when she saw Fred and Velma again. If she saw Fred and Velma again.

“Like, to be fair we all thought Fred’s trap was gonna work...” He mumbled. He explains that the note had a time and location for a meeting and so Fred and Velms had spent the day setting up a trap in the area. But she isn’t listening.

Daphne groaned, “I thought we agreed that ransom notes were when we actually get qualified adults involved. The vote was unanimous on that movement!”

“I don’t really think they pay attention during our staff meetings.” He replies with a lilt of amusement.

“They’re not staff meetings! They’re discussions on our code of conduct, we need rules Shags! Order!”

He lets out a short laugh before wrapping his arms around her neck and saying, “Shit I was so worried about you...”

Daphne feels her chest go warm and her cheeks heat up - she nuzzles further into the crook of his neck.

‘Shit I am so in love with you...’

She thinks.

And then... blackness.

When she awakes she hears the almost heavenly beeping of a heart monitor.

The second she opens her eyes three teenagers and dog practically jump on top of her. All of their words are overlapping and Scooby is licking at her face ferociously so Daphne doesn’t even bother trying to glean anything. The one thing she does do is reach out and grab onto Shaggy’s hand in a sort of death grip - something she wasn’t able to do with her wrists cuffed.

Fred and Velma both excitedly recount the details of tracking down Shaggy all the way back to the warehouse through tire tracks and corresponding surveillance footage. It truly was a riveting tale that Daphne couldn’t be bothered to listen to, she was way too exhausted. Plus, Shag was looking down at her with those beautiful eyes and how the hell was she supposed to look away.

“And! And - you’re gonna love this Daph - we called the police!” Fred stated proudly, eyes glittering like he was a child who cleaned his room without his mother asking him to.

Daphne’s eyes widened and she smiled, “Wow! I’m really proud of you two!”

Velma rolled her eyes, picking up on the sarcasm, “Whatever the big issue is that asshole got away.”

“Albert Einstein?”

“Professor Freakenstein?”

Daphne and Shag inquired at the same time, they both looked at each other and Shaggy smirked. Daph blushed.

“Riiigghtt... I’m sticking with that asshole.” Velma stated.

Suddenly, Daphne perked up, “Shags... You said that you guys found my shoes at the office building where Mr. Griesling worked right?”

Shaggy nodded and squeezed her hand; she squeezed back.

“Well before he moved me to the warehouse, I was kept in a private office-thingy. And this whole time I swore I had recognized the guy’s eyes before. I mean they were practically glowing green there is no way I would miss them!” She can feel her voice shake as she recalls the way those eyes pushed down on her when she believed she was gonna die.

Shaggy squeezes her hand again.

She takes in a breath and then says, “Well I was thinking about it for a moment and I remember that I saw one of the interns that worked for Mr. Griesling’s department had these gorgeous eyes and I was this close to complimenting him on them!”

Velma and Fred’s eyes widen and Shaggy gasps before saying, “Oh my God that fucking gigantic college sophomore! We’re idiots!”

Velms plants her face in her hands and Fred sighs, “Good thing we had Daphne and her attention to seemingly unimportant details.”

Daph smirks and shrugs, “Just make sure to keep me far away from him.”

“Like we will Daphne.” Shaggy says gently and the tone is enough to soothe all of the dread latched onto her.

[neowinestainedress]

drunk on you, now i’m wasted

There was no way Sicheng was wasting a second not admiring him when he was just so painfully beautiful like that. All spread out for her to fill him up completely. His cheeks flushed and wet, his lips plump and red, his hair stuck against his sweaty forehead. And it was so exciting for Sicheng to know that that was the same Jaehyun that easily fucked her against a wall mercilessly. Sicheng felt so good knowing she was the only one who could get him on his knees and make a mess out of him.

Or where it doesn't take much for Jaehyun to get drunk on Sicheng and feel wasted.

-warnings: smut; foursome; cock warming; pegging; dirty talk; slight verbal humiliation; praise kink; oral sex; orgasm delay/denial; multiple orgasms; sex toys; mommy kink; aftercare  yes, Sicheng is a woman

The JohnJaeTeWin smut nobody asked for, but I’m sorry I love them and we need more sub-jaehyun.

ao3 link

 "What are you thinking about?" Ten asked leaning closer to Sicheng from behind. His lips brushing timidly on her neck. "Just at how it's been a month since you bought me the new strap-on, and I still hadn't had the chance to use it." Sicheng replied with a sad expression on her face. Ten pouted. "Oh, poor baby. You want to top someone?" Ten was taunting, and Sicheng rolled her eyes, she didn't need this, not now when the only thought in her mind was Jaehyun at complete disposal for her to do anything with him. "I'm here if you want." He kept teasing, slowly unbuttoning his shirt with a smirk on his face.

"Ugh, you know what I want." And it was true, Ten knew it perfectly. Honestly, that was what he wanted too. It was strange how all of a sudden Ten and Sicheng started to be this close when at the start Ten couldn't even stand to hear her name. Three of them in a relationship weren't enough? And why the hell the fourth had to be a woman? He couldn't get it, to read: he was way to petty to act like a proper adult who knew that that could've happened since the first day he got into that type of relationship with two bisexual men. After three months of acting like a bitch, he started to get closer to Sicheng (mostly because Johnny and Jaehyun deprived him of sex) and found out that Sicheng was cool, cooler than he hoped she would be. And that they actually made a great duo. It took him two more months to get over the idea of vaginas as terrifying things and discover that playing with Sicheng was funny. So here they were now, being two bratty partners in crime who loved making Jaehyun and Johnny going crazy.

"Ask him." Ten said now sitting on her lap as his fingers were playing with her long wavy brown hair. "But...I'm shy." She whispered, her cheeks turned red. Ten laughed straight to her face. "I'm sorry, honey. But we both know that's a lie." He added after he saw her smile fall. "What if he doesn't want that?" She said seriously, Ten simply smiled at her and started to caress her face. It was kinda cute how Sicheng would worry so much about everything, even after a year together. Everything still felt new to her and she wasn't as brave as Ten at testing new unexplored territory with their boyfriends. In fact, Sicheng wanted to peg them for ages, it had always been stuck on her mind but she was too embarrassed -and scared of having them laugh at her face- to ask anything. It was thanks to Ten that Sicheng effectively got to do it just about four months before. Ten couldn't get it quite well, but he understood that he was shameless and knew the other boys longer than Sicheng did, so he also knew that they were pretty much down for everything as long as everyone involved was fine with it.

"You know he loves it, don't make me ask for it, again." He admonished. She sighed and then patted his thighs to make him stand up. "Fine, I will."

꧁꧂

Fun thing, Sicheng never asked. Three days had passed since their conversation, all mostly like Ten sending her glare to tell her to talk to Jaehyun and Sicheng mouthing 'later', followed by Ten rolling his eyes and Johnny watching them with a frown on his face not understanding what was going on between them. It was a late evening on Friday when Sicheng felt particularly brave and decided to -practically- do something and not only whine and cry on how much she needed to fuck someone. Nobody was home, Sicheng had finished her turn before so she had all the time by herself to get ready and put in action what she was fantasizing about. After eating something that was left in the fridge -hoping it wasn't something poisonous cooked by Ten, who then decided to keep it anyway just to get rid of someone of them- Sicheng took off her working clothes and took a swift shower. "Bitch, is you home?" Rolling her eyes at the sound of Ten entering the house, Sicheng peeked down the stairs and stuck her tongue out at him. "Why are you like this?" Sicheng then added puffing as she entered the kitchen. "No, why are -you- like this?" Ten asked cheeking her out from head to toe. Sicheng had nothing on but a towel who barely covered her slim and tall body -she was taller than him, and at the start that was one of the many of the other reasons why Ten hated her. "Want to impress someone? Maybe showering made you grown some guts and you finally decided to talk to him?" He smirked as he bit a mouthful of a toast he made in like one, two minutes? Sicheng doesn't know and honestly doesn't want to. "Oh, shut up and don't waste my time. I've got a surprise." Sicheng said turning around making her back sway as she left the room. "Wait, I wanna know. Sicheng -fuck." He said as a piece of bread got stuck in his throat while he was calling for Sicheng. "I'll kill her one day."

꧁꧂

"Honey, we're home." Johnny's low voice resounded around the house who seemed way too calm knowing the two subjects who were inside. As soon as Jaehyun and him glared at each other, questioning what was going on, a sound of heels on the floor made their head turn around. "Fuck." Jaehyun breathed out, his mind went blank as he immediately felt a shiver run down his spine. Sicheng was leaning against the handrail of the stairs. Her already long legs looked even longer in that black tight suit pants and the five-inch red decollete. But, damn, that wasn't the most breathtaking thing in front of their eyes. Her boobs were perfectly wrapped by the white blouse, so tight the bottoms could barely keep it together, and suspenders were placed at the side of her chest. A tie tightened around her neck finished the look as her long hair was raised in a ponytail. Sicheng looked so powerful like this. Sicheng was powerful. And Johnny and Jaehyun felt defenceless at that sight. Her body moved gracefully in the air as she made her way closer to the boys, and there, when a shy ray of moonlight hit her better, Jaehyun eyes got caught by something else. She was wearing a strap-on, it was clear by the prominence on her low waist. "Fuck." He cursed again, he was already getting hard. "You're keeping it quiet, now?" Sicheng asked, she was in front of him and he didn't even realize that. "You'll be screaming it louder later tonight." She whispered the last words in his ear, her hot breath hitting his neck causing him to bit his lips. He wanted to curse again, and again. It was always like that when Sicheng decided to switch, and to him, it was unbelievable how she could just be the best submissive person ever and then turn to be -this- dominant, sometimes even more than him. It drove him crazy, it fucked him up. And while he was lost in his thoughts, trying to gain back all the sanity Sicheng drained from his soul since they first met, he didn't see how Johnny was wiping away with kisses the beautifully wore red lipstick from her face. "You're so hot like this, babe." Johnny whispered pulling away, his big hands were cupped around Sicheng's ass. "I know, don't need to remind me." Yeah, also that, Sicheng could be very full of herself if she wanted to. "Hey, what have you done to him?" Again, way too immersed in admiring his partner's bodies he didn't see Ten coming down from upstairs and placing right in front of him, ready to mock him, as always. And, as expected, he was pointing at his already visible boner. "I'll get my revenge." He simply thought, but that was for later. Right now he was the target, and he knew that they wouldn't let him breathe -in any sense- that night. Not that he minded, but he had other things to think about, like trying not to lose his dignity when they didn't even start, yet, just because he was way too whipped for Sicheng. Check, failed. "Me? Nothing?" Sicheng answered with an angelic tone in her voice as she turned around facing both Ten and Jaehyun. The younger huffed and rolled his eyes, seriously? She had the audacity to say it wasn't her fault when she was just so breathtaking, sexy, beautiful and hot and fuck-maybe Jaehyun loved Sicheng a little too much. A slap followed his actions. "Hey!" He screamed. He knew exactly why she did that and it didn't even hurt much but learning from the best -Ten- putting on a scene always made things better. "I know what you're thinking, but it wasn't for that." Sicheng said slipping a hand through his light brown hair. "Aren't you a little bit too greedy, pup?" Jaehyun closed his eyes, a dumb smile on his face, he really wanted to make it disappear but his mind was already too far gone. He won't survive the night, he knows it damn well. He knows himself, and how much he likes all this shit. And he knows his partners would never lose the change to take him to the edge and make a mess out of him. "Look at you, you like it?" Sicheng smaller hands cupped his face and forced him to look at her in her eyes. "Just got home and you're already extremely hard. Baby boy wants to get fucked, doesn't he?" She whispered, her voice was always warm and somehow low, but in this situation, it was just so raspy and hot that sometimes Jaehyun felt like he could come by that only -and he probably really could, didn't try, yet. "Yes, please." His voice sounded like a cry, already desperate, and his cheeks and ears turned red as his brain suddenly realized that Johnny and Ten were also there, staring right at him. "Gettin shy?" Talk about the devil. Johnny's voice made his dick throb in his tight jeans, the moments when he and Johnny got to have fun together were rare, it was always three of them, all together or one of them with Ten and Sicheng, but rarely them two. That didn't stop them from loving each other and neither loving to have fun with each other. But he wasn't that used to have that kind of attention from him. "Not answering? That's kinda rude since you're asking us to fuck you." Johnny said again, this time more stern and dominant. A shiver run down Jaehyun's spine -and dick. "N-no, I...yes." He mumbled out the first words that came in his mind not knowing quite well what to say. Well, ten minutes into this and he was already brain dead. Good job, Jaehyun. "Stupid puppy." Sicheng said, and both Ten and Johnny laughed at him. His ears turned as red as Sicheng's lipstick if that was even possible but he seriously felt stupid at that moment. "Why don't you go upstairs and wait for us with your pretty ass up in the air?" Sicheng asked gently stroking his face, her thumb on his soft lips. She wanted to kiss him so bad.

Jaehyun simply nodded -not able to create a comprehensible phrase, and without any other words, he ran upstairs.

꧁꧂

Jaehyun didn't waste a moment to get rid of his clothes, he wanted to throw them on the floor and swiftly get ready on the bed but at the same time he didn't want to seem so desperate, he knew he would give them other reasons to make fun of him through the night and he had already started in the worst way, recovering now was a good option. After having piled his clothes on the desk he moved to the bed, his right cheek pressed against the pillow, staring at the door in anticipation, and ass up in the air, firstly because they told him to and secondly because the slight brush of his dick on the covers would've got him shaking. "Look at you." Sicheng voice made him open his eyes wide, the room was kinda dark as the only light came from the abatjour on the desk opposite to the bed. He couldn't see well, also due to the position he was. But he liked it, not knowing who was near him or what they were gonna do to him, okay, maybe he loved it since thinking about it made his cock throb another time. A hand placed around his ass cheek, it was smooth and small, he could tell it was Ten's. "Isn't he beautiful?" He said caressing him, and a smile painted Jaehyun face as pride rushed over him. "So soft and pale, it feels like I'm touching porcelain." He said moving closer to Jahyun's ring of nerves, teasing it lightly with his thumb. A soft moan escaped his lips. "So fragile, maybe I should stop touching or it will break." Ten said pulling away. "No." Jaehyun exclaimed, his voice breaking in his throat. Sicheng laughed, it was definitely her. "Baby, baby, you should be more patient." She said leaning closer to him, her hands were messing his hair and he wanted to move, seeking for more contact and affection. But he couldn't. "But I've been." He whispered, no he didn't, but he couldn't care less. It hadn't even been bad so there was no reason for not wanting more. A huff left Johnny's lips "You shouldn't lie." He warned slapping his ass. Jaehyun leapt. "Please..." Jaehyun cried out. "Please what, pup? Tell us what you want." She said, her fingers making her way to his mouth asking for permission to enter. He opened up. "Tou-touch me." Jaehyun hardly said trying to breathe. "How you want to be touched, pup?" Jaehyun moaned as Sicheng kept pushing her fingers inside his mouth, maybe he had a problem with his oral fixation. Yes, he surely had it. But that wouldn't be the biggest problem. "Ten, please." "I said how, not, who. Are you that stupid?" Sicheng said in a stern voice pulling her fingers out. "No, I-" Jaehyun tried to mumble out but his voice got stuck in his mouth when another slap ended on his ass. It was Sicheng this time. "You're not even good at listening, I don't think you deserve these attentions." She said rubbing the redder part of his body. "No, please, Sicheng." Her fingers tangled through his hair and she pulled strongly against herself causing his lower back to arch up. "What? Say it again, pup, if you dare." "Mommy, I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Jaehyun cried out tightening his eyes. Not able to keep eye contact with her. "Good boy." Sicheng said letting go the grip suddenly, causing his head to bob against the pillow. "Since you can't answer we'll decide, okay?" She said gesturing Ten to take care of him. Jaehyun simply nodded, at this point, everything was fine as long as they touched him. "You wanted me, right baby?" Ten said getting on the bed, Jaehyun could feel the movement of the mattress under him.

"Yes..." He said in a shaky voice, pushing his ass higher in the air, his back arched perfectly. He just wanted to be ruined, couldn't care much of anything else, not even how pathetic he looked.

"You're so fucking desperate." Ten said getting closer to him, his lower back making contact with Jaehyun's ass. "Now suck." He ordered putting two digits in his mouth, not so sweetly. And Jaehyun did. Closing his pinky lips around them and then swirling his tongue in his mouth. His eyelashes fluttered on his cheeks as he enjoyed the feeling.

"Fucking beautiful." Johnny whispered. He couldn't see him, but from his voice, he could tell he was beside the bed. "Stop. We got better things to do." Ten said pulling away. Jaehyun whined but the Thai boy didn't listen and moved his fingers down to his ass. "Want to suck something?" Johnny was now in front of Jaehyun, towering over him. His pants were gone, and the only thing covering his boner was his underwear. "You want something to stuff that pretty mouth of yours?" Jaehyun nodded trying to hold back the moans caused by Ten's attention down there and the things Johnny was saying. "Can you keep daddy's dick warm while Ten eats you out?" He asked caressing his cheeks and Jaehyun nodded, a shy smile on his face. "Really? Sicheng do you think he can?" He asked mockingly.

"No, that pretty mouth is too small for your cock, isn't it, pup?"

"No, I'm good, daddy. I can take, I- fuck." He mumbled out, he felt dizzy. Trying to keep attention at the two of them felt impossible when Ten was working him open, his fingers entering him slowly and brushing his most sensitive spots.

"I'll be a good boy and keep your cock warm." He finished holding back moans. Without adding another word, Johnny got on the bed, sitting with his legs open on the pillow beneath Jaehyun's head. And so Jaehyun did it. Resting his cheeks on Johnny's thigh he tried to take in his mouth as much of Johnny's dick he could. But fuck, Johnny was so big, and he wasn't the one sucking cocks usually. He wanted to do it, though, he promised Johnny and for personal pride -he had to -and he also just wanted something to suck.

"Good boy, just like that." Johnny whispered running his fingers through his hair to make him relax as he felt his dick rest on Jaehyun's tongue.

"Fuck, you're so tight." This time Ten was talking, his three fingers were buried deep inside Jaehyun and he could perfectly feel how tight he was as he clenched around him.

"But you're so...pretty like that." Ten emphasised the word 'pretty', he knew Jaehyun loved to be called that and it worked since a soft moan left his lips -well, what could be heard of that since the position he was. "So pink and hot for me, for us." He kept praising him leaning closer with his mouth. Jahyun whimpered when Ten's tongue licked his entrance and swirled around, his dick was leaking pre-cum and he already felt so close. A muffled 'fuck' left his mouth, as he tried to steady his breath through his nose, it was harder than he expected. Johnny's big cock blocked all the air from the mouth and sucking sent him into other space, which made it hard for him to focus on something that was actually pretty important -breathing. And the amazing oral sex Ten was giving him wasn't helping. "A beautiful peach." Sicheng said. Jaehyun couldn't see her, she was probably looking at him from behind, enjoying the best view Jaehyun offered. His cheeks turned red at the thought, he could kinda feel Sicheng's burning gaze on his skin, and that was so hot. Sicheng eyes were so beautiful and intense, so much that sometimes it felt impossible for him to look at her. And fuck, he just hated how powerful she was over him because even now, that he had Johnny and Ten taking care of him, the thing that turned him on the most was Sicheng looking at him, seeing how good he was being, how beautiful he was just for them, for her. And all of that put together was just too much for him, he couldn't take it anymore. Not letting go of Johnny's dick he muffled a shy 'please' as tears were streaming down his face and a groan left the oldest's mouth. "Please what?" Sicheng asked. "Wanna com-ah." Johnny pulled him away, the vibrations he sent were too much, Jahyun wasn't truly sucking him, but the warmth of his mouth and the random sucking were enough to drive him crazy.

"Hold on a little bit more, Ten will let you come, right baby?" Ten whispered a 'yes' against his sensible ring of nerves and Jaehyun dick throbbed. With his mouth now free he could let out all the moans he had to suppress before. Ten was just so fucking good he could see stars. "I don't think his pretty little hole is ready to take mommy's big cock." Sicheng said sitting on the other side of the bed. Jaehyun's head snapped up, his eyes now open were looking straight at hers. "No, I am. I will take you so good, mommy." He cried out in a soft breathy voice. But then, without a warning, Ten spat on his asshole and pushed four fingers inside. "Fuck." Jaehyun screamed closing his eyes, his head fell back on Johny's tight and then he felt his hands in his hair, massaging his scalp. Ten started to fuck him mercilessly, pumping hard inside out causing tears to roll down his pretty flushed cheeks. And damn, Jaehyun was so hot like that. Ten wanted so bad to fuck him, it was such a waste to a have a masterpiece like this in front of him and not being able to come, but he knew that somebody else was in line for that and, to be honest, seeing Sicheng fuck him was way hotter than him fucking Jaehyun. "Ten, please..." Jaehyun barely spat out, his moans getting in the way, his orgasm building up in his stomach -again. But this time he wouldn't have been able to stop it. And he didn't, when Ten touched his prostate, again and again, he lost it, coming all over the sheets beneath him, a particularly long low moan left his mouth as his chest panted heavily, still shaking from the pleasure. Silence filled the room as Ten pulled out, just an almost silent curse could be heard when Ten gasped seeing Jaehyun's hole gape, clenching into nothing. "Oh, what do we have to do with you." Sicheng said, her hands grabbed his waist making him turn around, now his back was laying flat against the mattress, and fuck, Sicheng's breath got stuck in her throat because Jaehyun was just way too beautiful like this. His face all flushed red, cheeks wet for the tears and lips red and swollen. A work of art, the most beautiful one Sicheng ever seen. His eyelashes fluttered and she felt her heart skip a bit, Sicheng couldn't believe he was her baby. When did she get so lucky? "You look so wasted already, do you think my puppy can take more?" As much as she wanted to praise him out loud she knew she couldn't loosen the grip. "Yes, please mommy, I need you." He whispered. "Wasn't Ten enough?" She teased getting up from the bed, just to get rid of her pants and heels. Like this Jaehyun could see better the outlines of the strap-on hidden behind her red laced culotte. A moan left his mouth as his dick was starting to get hard again. "She asked you something." Johnny said bringing him back to reality. "Yes, I mean no, I-" Again, he couldn't get nothing that made sense out of his brain. "I think Ten was more than enough." She said leaving Jaehyun speechless. Rationally, he knew that Sicheng wouldn't have got away with that only but right now his rationality wasn't there -actually, it abandoned him at the start of the night. So shy huffs came from him as he moved on the bed, trying to adjust himself, whine and grab attention. "You came without permission, I thought you said you were going to be a good boy." Sicheng said, leaning now closer to Ten who was sitting at the edge of the other side of the bed. "Maybe he could show you how to be a good boy." A grin grew on Ten's face as Jaehyun felt his anger and jealousy rush in his vein. Bingo. Sicheng thought. Putting Ten and Jaehyun, two of the most competitive people she knew, against each other? While they were both cravings for praises and dick? A hell of a ride. Johnny smiled at her, knowing well that from now on it would've been even funnier. Ten couldn't complain, that night his dominant role had lasted more than enough, he liked it, surely, but nothing was better than having all the attention on him and being praised for his body and the things he could do. And showing off how to be the best baby boy he could? Damn, he was totally there for it. Jaehyun, instead, wanted to complain, a lot. He hated competition -being honest, he hated competition when he knew he couldn't win. And with Ten he couldn't, as much as he wanted to, as much as he tried. He simply didn't have the stamina the older had. There was no way he could be better. But he hated losing, he wanted to be praised, to ear from Sicheng that he was good, that he was her good beautiful boy. He wanted to show off how good he was -because he was. Maybe not as Ten, but he was. And he was beautiful, he knew that. He just needed to hear them say it. He wanted to complain out loud but Ten was faster than him and with a swift move he found himself on Johnny's lap. Jaehyun rolled his eyes, Sicheng saw it from her peripherical view but let it go. He couldn't believe him, he was pulling the 'watch how I take him in one go' card just to brag about how it seemed he was made for Johnny's dick. "Come here." Sicheng patted the space in front of her, she was sitting cross-legged at the opposite side of them, she could see them perfectly, but Sicheng wanted Jaehyun to see them. "Good, on your knees now." Sicheng demanded. "Eyes focused on them." She then whispered in his ear, turning his face directly at their boyfriends. Johnny was fingering Ten as the younger was grinding against him. Hot. But Jaehyun couldn't enjoy it completely. He just wanted one thing, but he knew that to get it he had to listen, and so he did. Getting on his knees he kept his attention on the boys. Sicheng left for a brief moment, he wanted to turn around, to check that she didn't leave him all alone, but he couldn't. Coming back behind him, Jaehyun could feel the texture of a rope closing around his wrists. "Fuck." He cried out, his dick getting now completely hard due to the sight in front of him and the sensation of the rope that was being tightened around his hands. "Now stay still and enjoy the show." Sicheng whispered in his ear. He nodded but he felt like he wanted to cry when she sat closer to the two and not next to him. Mind reminder for himself: hug Sicheng for a whole day as a revenge for this contact deprivation. All the softness fell apart when suddenly Ten aligned Johnny's dick to his entrance and took him in one go. Ten softer moans mixed with Johnny's deep groans, as the younger went down completely. And fuck, that was just so hot. Jaehyun couldn't take his eyes away from the space were his boyfriends were united. They fitted so perfectly, they were made for each other, and as much he thought that maybe Ten liked to brag a little too much, he simply thought it was amazing how well he could take Johnny so easily. "God, Ten, you're so good." As Johnny said that, Jaehyun's dick throbbed. His low, raspy voice was so sexy. But Johnny himself sent him to heaven. The way his black hair was now a mess with few strands falling on his face, or how his lashes fell beautifully on his cheeks as he enjoyed the feeling of Ten riding him. Or how his muscles tensed making him look even hotter. A breathy moan left his lips as he let his head fall back, just how much he wanted to be Ten right now. "Like what you see?" The oldest in the room asked teasingly looking at him for a moment. Jaehyun nodded, not able to do anything else. "Could have been you, but you don't know how to behave." He finished with a smirk on his face, that soon after was also painted on Ten's face, that little bitch and his super-ego. A groan left Jaehyun's mouth and then he huffed. He had been good, they just liked to make him go crazy. "Daddy, fuck, you're so big." Ten brought all of the attention back on him, as his hips kept moving up and down, creating lewd noises as their skin clapped against each other. "But you're so good for me, baby. Look at how well you take me." Johnny praised him and a stupid smile plastered on his face. Jaehyun wanted to cry, maybe scream, do anything to gain a little attention from them but he knew that he would've worsened the situation, so he tried to keep quiet, ignore the almost painful boner he had between his legs and wished for them to finish faster. Or at least for Sicheng to have some mercy and maybe take care of him, just a little, he wasn't asking for much. But nothing, Sicheng eyes were fixed on their boyfriends' bodies, paying more attention at her he noticed how one hand was playing with herself down between her legs and another moan escaped his mouth. Sicheng turned to him and caught him staring. A devilish smile crept on her face. "Bet you want to be the one touching me, am I right?" Jaehyun nodded energetically, he knew that by now Sicheng was dripping wet, there was no way she hadn't been affected by all of this and he just wanted to eat her out like she deserved. He was hoping for something to change but no, they weren't done teasing. Johnny's hands swiftly reached for her body, unbuttoning the blouse. Sicheg's boobs sprang free as soon as the top was off and fuck, they were so beautiful. They weren't particularly big, more like medium but they were so full and soft. Johnny wasted no time sucking the right nipple and then slightly pulling away holding it between his teeth. Sicheng's head rolled back as a soft moan left her mouth. Her hands tangled around Johnny's hair as he kept working on her. And Jaehyun felt so close again because the sight in front of him was too much to take. Ten bouncing on Johnny's cock, with his eyes closed and his lips parted letting free the most beautiful moans ever. Johnny trying to meet him midway while he also stayed focused on Sicheng while her red lips were being bitten to quite down the messy sounds she was doing. And then him, tightened and in a corner, hard as hell as he just wanted to touch them or being touched by them. "You're so hot, fuck." He breathed out, trying desperately to remind them he was there too -they knew it perfectly, and it was even more frustrating. "You too, baby." Sicheng moaned, but his pride had no time to build up that got destroyed again "All hot and bothered waiting patiently for us, looking like the most desperate puppy needing for attention." "Yes, I am. Please, please." He cried out nervously moving on the bed, he was desperate, he knew that. For them? He would've never stopped being it. "Later." Sicheng tone got deeper, almost as if she disconnected from her state of mind absorbed in Johnny's touch, Jaehyun gulped and lowered his head. Later. "I'm so close, god-" Ten said in a breathy voice. His eyes were now open, staring at the view in front of him. Johnny pulled away from Sicheng making a sad sigh escape from her mouth. "Come with me, baby." Johnny's deep voice was the last thing Ten needed to get off completely, with one last strong movement of their hips meeting midway they both came, Ten all over Johnny's torso and the older inside of him. Still riding their orgasms, their chest panted quickly, their forehead rested on each other, as their lips crushed together in sloppy and messy kisses. Jaehyun sighed, he just wanted to be kissed too. Fortunately, this time, his wish was granted pretty soon. Sicheng turned around and crawled to him, her hands rubbing his thighs. His fogged eyes were staring right into hers, silently begging for more. Rising her upper body, Sicheng made their lips collide for the first time that night and Jaehyun felt like flying. It had been waiting all night just for that. It started slowly, almost painfully, but soon enough it turned messier and rougher. Jaehyun moaned in the kiss, Sicheng plump and soft lips sent him straight to heaven. Her hands were roaming on his body, making him crave for more, he just wanted to touch her too, to kiss every inch of Sicheng's perfect skin, but the rope kept him from doing it. He whined. "You've been so good, pup." Sicheng breathed out in the middle of one of their kisses and Jaehyun smiled. "Tell me what you want." "You." He breathed out, his voice shaking. He should've elaborate better but right now, that was the most sincere thing he could say. He had been waiting all night for Sicheng to touch him, kiss him, ruin him. He couldn't care, he just wanted to become a mess under her hands. And Sicheng didn't complain, not asking for more explanation. The teasing has lasted long enough, and by this point, not even she could take it anymore. So Sicheng moved her hands to free him from the rope and then gestured him to lay on the bed. "Look at your hard thick cock, isn't it a waste not to use it?" Sicheng asked starting to pump up and down. "No, I want you- fuck." Jaehyun shook his head fastly. "But your pretty dick is so big, it fills me up so good. I could ride you." Sicheng said brushing her thumb on the slit on the head. Jaehyun rolled his eyes from the pleasure he was receiving and bit his lips trying to find the words to say. "No, please, mommy. Fuck me, ah." His voice trembled from the stimulation she was giving him. "Are you sure you want that? Leaving your dick laying there?" "Yes, please mommy fuck me 'till I can't breathe." He said desperately, and that was everything Sicheng needed to get free from her panties and align her strap-on at his entrance. Ten had fingered him before but Jaehyun wasn't so used at this, so she took anyway a little bit of time to finger him. "I'm ready, I can take it, plea-" His begs died in his throat when Sicheng entered him decisively, not giving him time to finish. She pulled his legs around her waist and sunk down completely, the tip of the dildo touching his sensitive spot. "Fuck, see, you're as good as Ten." Sicheng praised and Jaehyun heart skipped a beat, a smile appeared on his face as he heard Ten huff at the side of the bed, followed by a slap on his ass by Johnny and an "ouch". But right now he couldn't think of Ten's show, he had Sicheng right where he wanted and that was all that mattered. Sicheng started moving slowly, her hips going inside out, rotating too. She was so good at it, knowing exactly how to move and the right angulation that drove him crazy. "It feels so good." Jaehyun said keeping his eyes closed. "God! Fuck-" Jaehyun gasped. Lost in his pleasure, Jaehyun didn't hear the sound of something vibrating, so when the vibrator made contact with his sensitive head he couldn't help but be surprised.

"Wher-" "Shh, will you be a good boy for mommy?" Sicheng hushed him down, placing her hand around his neck, choking him slightly. Jaehyun simply nodded, not being able to do anything else. "Like this, you're so hot and wet for me, baby." She said thrusting hard inside of him as the other hand held the vibrator still on his throbbing dick. "Mommy, please. It's too much." Jaehyun mumbled out, tears were rolling down his face as he could feel another orgasm build up in his stomach, his visions get blurry and his muscles trembling. He had only come once properly but for the whole night he kept on killing more oncoming orgasms, and Sicheng was just too hot for him, with her long hair falling in her face as the tail loosened, and her boobs bouncing up and down. "We just started, you don't want this do end yet." Sicheng managed to say through her moans, the vibrations sent by the dildo inside of her and Jaehyun in front of her were starting to make her lose points. She let go of her hold on his neck just to leave kisses there and bite makrs. "But mommy." Jaehyun cried out, suddenly he felt two pair of lips on his, completely dizzy it took some seconds to understand it was Ten.

"You're such a good boy, peach." Ten whispered close to him, running his fingers through his hair, trying to calm him down. "I'm not." Jaehyun mumbled out closing his legs around Sicheng's waist. He just wished he was as good as Ten at holding on and controlling his orgasms but he wasn't, not when he was deep in his sub-space.

"Yes, you are." The Chinese girl said, removing the vibrator from his sensitive spot. She leaned down reaching for his lips, trying to comfort him.

"Are you with me?" Sicheng asked, stopping for a moment since Jaehyun appeared spaced out.

"Y-yes, go on, please. Ruin me." Jaehyun said looking at Sicheng in the eyes. They kissed another time, sloppily and roughly. Then Sicheng started where she stopped. Grabbing Jaehyun waist she raised him a little, making him tightening his hold around her, this way she could get a lot deeper. Jaehyun was feeling every inch.

"Mommy fucks you so good." Ten said while playing with Jaehyun's left nipple.

"And you look so, so pretty, Jae." The older started kissing him slowly, pushing his moans back in his throat. Jaehyun tiredly tried to kiss him back but he felt like he couldn't command his body anymore, he felt like he had left his soul in Sicheng's hands and trusted her with it.

"Your pink little hole is so tight, baby." Sicheng let out a raspy moan as she threw her head back, just to get back to the main subject of the night. Jaehyun. There was no way Sicheng was wasting a second not admiring him when he was just so painfully beautiful like that. All spread out for her to fill him up completely. His cheeks flushed and wet, his lips plump and red, his hair stuck against his sweaty forehead. And it was so exciting for Sicheng to know that that was the same Jaehyun that easily fucked her against a wall mercilessly. Sicheng felt so good knowing she was the only one who could get him on his knees and make a mess out of him.

"You are a masterpiece completely ruined." She breathed out.

"Fuck, look at your teary eyes still begging for more, it's never enough for you, right?" Jaehyun nodded and let out an airy 'yes'. His hands were frenetically trying to grab onto something and the closest thing he found was Johnny's hand.

"Mommy, harder please." He begged, trying to meet her in the middle. The vibrator was put aside, throw somewhere behind them so that Sicheng could completely focus on him and her movements.

"Yes, like that." He mewled as Sicheng brushed against his prostate.

"Oh, pretty boy, you were made for mommy's cock, weren't you?" Sicheng started praising him, she knew he loved it and well, he deserved it.

"You're being so good for us."

Jaehyun dumbly smiled through his whines and Ten's kisses.

"You're so hot that Ten and I are hard again." Johnny said, his voice was low as it was usually when he was about to come and, sliding out of his deepest subspace for a moment, Jaehyun could hear the sound of him jerking off.

"Daddy," He rolled his eyes as a particularly deep and hard thrust hit him "please, on -on my face."

"Are you sure?" Johnny asked moving closer to his face as he held his dick in his hands.

"Yes, please, give it to me." He urged looking at him with doe eyes, his wet long eyelashes fluttering.

"Jesus," Johnny groaned at the sight gripping tightly the base of his cock "If that's what you want."

"You're such a slut." Sicheng said slapping lightly his cheek making his head turn to the side. Then Johnny spurted out, covering his face in white. Jaehyun opened his mouth wide, trying to grab a taste of the white substance coming out from his boyfriend.

"God, you're so greedy, babe." Ten mocked him as he collected some of Johnny's cum just to push it down Jaehyun's mouth, making him swallow. "Bet you would take the both of 'em at the same time." He pinched his nipple and Jaehyun simply nodded, it was getting too much. Sicheng moaned higher as she pictured him being fucked by the two of them. If she could barely take this view how was she going to survive that?

"Would you?" Ten asked with a stern voice, demanding attentions Jaehyun wasn't really able of giving him.

"Y-yes." He stuttered, the thought turned him on even more, being fucked by Johnny and Sicheng at the same time, all the marks and bruises to remind him nobody else could see him like this, or how full he would be. His dick throbbed. "Thinking about it, peach?" Ten asked not so sweetly as he licked a bit of Johnny's cum from his lips. "Yeah." Jaehyun sobbed. "But you're hole so little, you could never. I could." He teased and Jaehyun mumbled a 'no' in response shaking his head. Then everything disappeared, he felt a knot in his stomach and his thighs started shaking. "I'm close, I'm-" "Let it go, puppy. Come with me, fuck." Sicheng said leaning closer to him, her orgasm was there too, her thrusts were now a mess, as she tried to ride both of their pleasures. And he let go, holding on her tiny waist and throwing his head back he came all over his chest with a loud cry. His walls clenched around the plastic and it was a shame that Sicheng couldn't really feel it, but seeing his hole thighing was enough for her to get off. "Baby, fuck." She screamed as her orgasm hit her slightly after Jaehyun's. Sicheng fell on top of Jaehyun, not really minding all the cum that covered him. They would've thought about it later, even tomorrow. Then she pulled out slowly and rolled to the side, falling behind him. Jaehyun's eyes were closed as he tried to come back on heart, getting out of his subspace.

꧁꧂

"It was so intense." He breathed out, his chest was still moving erratically. "Yes, it was." Sicheng smiled pulling out of her the double end strap-on.

"You did so well." Ten praised climbing on top of him leaving few kisses here and there. "And we also did a mess." Johnny said coming back inside the room with two wet towels, he soon started to clean Jaehyun up, they would've thought about the rest tomorrow.

"It was worthy, I guess." Sicheng said propping on her elbows to look at her oldest boyfriend.

"You were so good, baby." Sicheng then whispered turning her attention at Jaehyun as she caressed his hair out of his face. "You look so sweet like this, you know. Sweet and deadly." She susurrated staring at his parted lips. Jaehyun was beautiful like a poisonous flower, so enchanting it attracted everybody close just to eat them up completely. Sicheng remembers when they first met, and how intimidating he seemed, walking around like a God -she is still convinced he is- and how she thought it was impossible getting close to him. It seemed like a joke that now she was the one who made him weak and how intimate they got, knowing each other so deeply to the point the shared their most fragile parts.

"Please, I want cuddles." Jaehyun begged in a soft voice bringing her back to reality. "Can we do it all together?" He pouted.

"Of course, babe." Sicheng answered. And so they were laying in their king-size bed, Johnny and Ten at the extreme while Sicheng and Jaehyun were in the middle. Jaehyun held on Sicheng's body like a koala, resting his face on her boob, and Ten hugged him from behind, his mouth against his neck. Meanwhile, Johnny was hugging Sicheng as he stretched his arm out to hug them all.

"You know I love you all so much." Jaehyun muttered after some minutes of silence where they simply enjoyed each other presence.

"Of course, we love you too." Johnny said smiling fondly.

"Really, you are the best things that ever been mine and life could give me. I don't know what I would be without you." He said in a more serious voice.

"Fuck, Jae. It's not the right time to make me cry." Ten said sniffing through his nose.

"I'm sorry, I changed my mind, you're the only one I don't love." Jaehyun said ironically but Ten, being the drama queen he is, gasped and pulled away from the boy. They all laughed, except Ten of course. But Ten sad face was soon enough swept away by Jaehyun's kisses on his lips, causing Ten to smile through them and giggle lightly.

"I think we're all really glad we got each other. It's family, right?" Sicheng said as she leaned her head on Johnny's chest and caressed Jaehyun and Ten hair.

"Family." They answered as one.

As darkness surrounded them and silence fall between them, sleep started to wash over them. But all of a sudden Johnny talked.

"So, the bet for the double is still open?" Johnny asked giggling.

"Oh, shut up. Let me breathe." Jaehyun cursed under his teeth as he rolled his eyes causing everyone to laugh.

But deep down they all knew that, sooner or later, it will happen because now that Ten put it in everyone's mind there was no way they would've stopped thinking about it. Especially Jaehyun.

[distinctlywhumpthing]

4&5

Reposting without fear/threat/mention of noncon, please note all of the other CWs before for each part. Happy to answer questions or help with censoring.

4.

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CW: explicit language and content, torture, captivity, wounds, implied sex work, strangulation, choking, suicide (hanging), suicidal thoughts/explicit planning, mouth whump description (bleeding, asphyxiation, choking), breathing, bruises, beating, conditioning, dehumanization, noncon touching (non sexual), drugs, alcohol, multiple whumpees, multiple whumpers, whumpee as caretaker,

August once asked what they do to me. Mouthed it, like he couldn’t stop himself from forming the words, but didn’t bother voicing it out of horror or just because he knew I couldn’t answer. I wouldn’t fucking know where to begin anyway.

Probably down on my knees.

At this point, our situation boggles my mind even more than when they trained me to be silent. That was logical when you psychoanalyzed it but shit got fucked sideways when August came into the picture. It’s just senseless now, an unending labyrinth of manipulation and control. Double the captives means double the fun. I was lucky to be alone for so long. There were two others before him but never like this. In the grand scheme of things, they’re all mere drops of water in the swimming pool of my time here. It was another woman first, although I never learned her name. She seemed like a Tiffany or a Heather and was really pretty, too but never trusted me. Wouldn’t even look at me, as if I wasn’t just as much of a prisoner as her.

Poor thing was in the wrong place at the wrong time and saw something she shouldn’t have. She didn’t last long at all. Unraveled faster than you can say, “Money’s on the table.” You’d think she’d have a little more grit. I mean you hear stories and can only imagine the shit they put up with in that industry, but it was like something out of an exorcist movie. Crying hysterically, throwing herself at the walls and doors, and trying to strangle the life out of me like I was sitting on a key. They came in and intervened but not before she’d purpled my neck so I could barely breathe. That was the only time they ever took the shock collar off. She spent the next bit catatonic and then one day when they brought me back, she was dangling by her own diamond-studded jeggings from a pipe on the ceiling, toes just a few inches from the ground. Damn slow way to die. They took out the pipe.

I’ve given it a hell of a lot of thought myself. She’d obviously been trying something similar with smacking herself into the concrete walls, but that will only get you a concussion that makes it feel like you’ve gone a few rings deeper into Hell. No, thank you. My choice would be the naked lightbulb on the wall, next to the door. If I shoved it far enough down my throat before it broke, I’m pretty sure I would asphyxiate before they could do anything. The key would be to bleed enough into my bronchial tube and inhale enough shards of glass to shred my lungs a bit. A little internal bleeding down my esophagus wouldn’t hinder the cause but certainly wouldn’t be fatal on its own, never mind the risk of just cutting my tongue and mouth to ribbons if it breaks too early. In that case, I’d be fucked. That’s why Wyatt leaves it there, uncovered, even though other lightbulbs down the hallway have metal cages screwed over them. Tempting me to risk it. He also knows that, now, I’d never leave August. I feel responsible and that’s why he holds my life in his hands. The torture will never stop and August is better off with me to take care of him in whatever way I can, even if it doesn’t even come close to reparation.

—

The next guy was probably mid-thirties and built like a truck. I can’t begin to imagine what he did to wind up here. He didn’t take to captivity well either. Everything they’d put into him, he’d let out onto me. The first time, I was pretzeled around one of the legs of my bed frame, while he punched and clawed at me, so hell-bent on not letting go, I was screaming my head off for help despite the collar. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that Wyatt doesn’t like anyone to touch me. That went over like a lead balloon. Playing off his proclivity like somehow I had any right to decide not to be beaten. Wyatt would have stopped it anyway and I could have saved myself the next few days of my bunkmate beating the living shit out of me undisturbed as long as he left it at just that. As soon as Wyatt decided I’d learned my lesson, or was sick of seeing me limping and bruised, that guy was fish food.

The second bed was empty for a long time after that even though I’m sure there were others. Wyatt has a list a mile-long of people he’d like to get his hands on for one reason or another, but I never saw them. Wyatt would still bring me out to toy with me in his usual ways. The buffoons would bring me out when he wasn’t around for entertainment but they know better than to touch me more than cursory shoves to keep me cooperating and even then, more often with their phones or other inanimate objects, rather than their hands. To them, it was endlessly entertaining to get me high out of my mind and mess with me or make me play Emma Fortyhands until I puked all over myself. I should have known Wyatt wasn’t wasting any time during this plateau of suffering. From what August says, he was here for a handful of days, maybe even two weeks, before they made us roommates. Wyatt just talked to him, drilling him for hours. He had been screening him, looking for the perfect match before binding us together in torment.

They always take me first and bring me straight to Wyatt. He likes to talk to me about what he has planned for August, trying to get a rise out of me. Like I’d be dumb enough to think that any amount of disgust or fear on my part would make a lick of difference for August. If anything, Wyatt would double it just for my reaction. Next, Wyatt makes sure I’ll make it through what he has planned for me without passing out. The humane thing would be to give me a second meal or something but instead, he gives me whatever his henchmen have lying around. An unpredictable twist added to my slow destruction. I’m lucky if it’s an energy shot or some gross drink that tastes like fruit-flavored battery acid and leaves me shaking. More often, it’s “just a bump” of something that makes my heart race and the whole session so unbearable I’m screaming in my head at the top of my lungs until I come down.

One time, he gave me a tab of acid. His favorite kind of experiment, the ultimate demonstration of his success. To no one’s surprise, I’m conditioned enough that I still didn’t speak and followed every instruction. That was, no contest, my worst day on this fucked-sideways merry-go-round. I was tripping so hard. Too slow and too fast at the same time, no distinction between myself and everything around me. Wyatt’s barbaric plan turned into a barbaric fuck-up. A small part of me understood what I had done even before I came down and when I stumbled out, I was met by silence instead of the usual dumb peanut-gallery comments. They threw me into the shower after, like always, but left me there for hours since I was still tripping. I was hysterical by the time they let me out. By some miracle, or just Wyatt perversely delaying the end, he had actually called a real doctor.

—

Today, Wyatt hands me a double shot of whiskey because it’s “cute” to watch me struggle when I’m tipsy. I knock it back in one swallow, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much that frightens me. He finishes getting me ready and then smacks me on the ass to get me moving. Once I’m in the room, he starts feeding me instructions even though I already know what he wants from me today. This way, he’s in control of my every action, like he’s thinking for me, while I just focus on getting air into my lungs, fighting through the alcohol hitting my bloodstream and burning in my empty stomach. I can throw it up in the shower later if I need to. I just need to survive this.

By the time I stumble out, I’m inevitably a mess. Crying, shaking, and covered in sweat, even on the days I get the raw, straight edge experience. One of the baboons walks me to the small concrete room, empty except the industrial-looking shower head in the ceiling above the drain. The controls are on the outside of the room which is how they make sure the water is ice cold and stays on for exactly five minutes. They take the collar off and I get a bar of soap before they lock me in. It used to be orange soap bars that made my skin feel dry even wet. After that, it was green with the same problem but a stronger smell that clung to me all the time, which wasn’t half bad. Lately, it’s a white, rounder bar, that’s distinctly feminine, and leaves my skin soft, which would be concerning if I wasn’t already too balls-deep in my worst nightmare to care.

I used to dance in and out of the freezing shower while I soaped up but now I stay under the whole time. It’s the only thing that makes any damn sense anymore, the one small touch of reality in this shit storm. I stand under the frigid water and then shake and shiver once it’s turned off until the cold becomes a buzz on my skin and in my veins. Depending on the day, I wait for seconds or hours until they toss me a small, scratchy towel and clean clothes. The waiting is part of it. Not because I’m covered in goosebumps, muscles cramping so that I have to curl in on myself for heat, but because of what I know is waiting for me next.

When they finally let me out and lock me into the collar, it’s all I can do not to run back to our basement hole as fast as my legs will carry me to make sure August hasn’t bled out or gone into shock while they kept me from him. It’s all I care about anymore, helping him survive, making him as comfortable as possible. Honestly, it is the least I can do. It’s my fault he’s here at all, kept to be part of a set. Not to mention the heinous torture. If I had known, I would have done my damndest to kill him before it ever even started

And I would have inhaled that fucking lightbulb immediately after.

5.

CW: explicit language and content, torture, captivity, conditioning, dehumanization, electrocution, shock collar, being watched, multiple whumpees, multiple whumpers, possessive whumper, whumpee as caretaker, letmeknowifimissedany

He looks young, too young, like the kind of barely-adult who’s still carrying around a duct tape wallet they made themselves in high school. Maybe old enough to have graduated from college, but still doing whatever he can to delay wearing a tie behind a desk for the rest of his life. Even if that means working at a job that doesn’t even require a diploma so long as he can still surf on weekdays before work. Considering grad school just to avoid working a forty-hour week and his parents will pay for it anyway.

“Hey, I’m August,” he says, giving me a confident smile and holding out his hand as he towers over me.

I back into the wall, shake my head and wonder if I’ll get a warning shock even though I dodged his handshake. None comes, but I don’t take it as an invitation. Those don’t exist in this universe.

“It’s okay, Honey. Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you,” he says, tilting his head to the side so his bangs clear off his eye and backing away to sit on the bed with his hands held up.

God, he’s like a poster boy for Division One lacrosse. All tan, lithe muscle, white teeth, and that stupid, floppy hair. He looks out of place not wearing some bullshit nautical motif printed chino shorts with a collared shirt tucked in—probably a polo. The type to drive his Audi (his mom’s old car) into the seedy part of the city to buy pot but he’ll 'never smoke before a game.' Christ, what was this dipshit doing mixed up with Wyatt?

I push off the wall, staying out of arms reach, and go sit on my bed across from him. I pull my legs up off the floor for good measure and settle into staring him down. He better not try anything.

He looks around the room again before returning his gaze to me. “I’m not really sure what the etiquette is here. Should I make small talk and ask you where you grew up?” he asks, sounding as much like a tool as he looks.

No, Jackass, you should keep your fucking mouth shut so I don’t wind up paying for your uninspired commentary.

“Can’t really tell what the weather is like with no windows,” he comments.

Please stop talking. Don’t you dare start—

“Honestly, it’s not as bad as I thought. I was terrified when they first—”

The electricity zips through me, tensing every muscle.

A warning buzz, the lowest setting, but still strong enough that I have to catch my breath after. I keep it soft and quiet always careful not to double-dip by being loud. “Seen, not heard, Pretty Thing,” is what Wyatt had said, years ago, when he introduced me to my new constant companion. Sound activated and remote-controlled with several levels of intensity for all your everyday sadistic needs. The first week was an awful cycle of fuck ups. They were constantly shocking me with the remote. I’d cry out, only to be shocked by the human-bark-collar feature and wind up trying to claw it off, which would get me a third shock. Each time, the voltage increasing, over and over, until I’d pass out.

He’s paled at the sight of me. “Uh, you okay, Sweetheart?” His voice is lower, softer, like it was before when he said he wouldn’t hurt me.

I glare at him. No, Fuckface, I’m the unlucky, unwitting barometer for the class. I just got electrocuted because you started talking about a no-no subject.

I consider putting a finger to my lips to tell him to shutthehellup even though I know I’ll get a shock for the gesture. If I do it with my middle finger, will they shock me twice for killing two birds with one stone? Is it worth it anyway?

I look at the camera.

I’m sure Wyatt is watching. He lives for this. He watches every time his henchmen toy with me, too, even though that usually happens when he’s busy or away, so it’s on a recording. He loves watching me be as he made me. Pushing, testing, and dissecting his intrinsic control in different contexts. I know he loves correcting me, for the thrill of it, but it’s always with a hint of disappointment because perfection is what that twisted motherfucker is chasing.

August—shit, what a name—follows my gaze and must be noticing the camera for the first time because he swallows audibly and looks back at me with wide eyes.

This one’s going to fold like a lawn chair. He’ll be unhinged the first time they hurt him. By the looks of him, that hasn’t happened yet, which is a bad sign for sure. Hopefully, he gets that this isn’t open mic night, but he still looks anxiously confused. It’s not like I can pull down the top of my shirt to show him the collar either. That will get me a top-notch, skip all the low gears and jump straight to the chip-my-teeth, muscles-sore-for-hours, flooring-it kind of shock. Although, if I pass out, he’ll probably can it.

“I—” He stops, shakes his head, and drops it into his hands. Whispers, “Oh, man,” under his breath.

Idiot. What did you think this was? A chance to network?

I watch him try to collect himself. He’s raking through his auburn hair one hand at a time while he keeps his head hung. He might be the same age as me. I have no idea what year it is. Time flies when you’re having imprisoned in a windowless basement. August looks like he’s just been hit by reality.

Damn, kid. Don’t fall apart yet.

I rise to get him a drink of water before he completely loses it.

He watches me out of the corner of his eye but doesn’t lift his head until I’m holding the cup out beside him. He sniffles and wipes his face with the back of his hand pathetically before taking the little paper cup.

“Thanks, Angel,” he says huskily.

Drop the pet names, you’re not a southern grandma. I refrain from rolling my eyes. That one is a grey area. Sometimes Wyatt thinks it’s funny, other times, not so much. I go back to my bed and hug my legs to my chest so I can rest my chin on my knees.

August tosses back the water like it’s a shot and then leans over to put the cup on top of the cabinet. He scoots back so he’s leaning on the wall and fiddles with a paracord bracelet on his wrist. I’m surprised they let him keep that. He’s clearly not wearing his own clothes, just some cut-off sweatpants, and a plain white t-shirt. Either that or they abducted him in his pajamas.

He’s quiet until the light shuts off a little while later.

“What’s going on?” he asks. He must have stood up because a second later he walks into the foot of my bed. “Ow, sorry, I can’t see.”

No shit, Numb Nuts. Go sit back down before you hurt yourself.

He finally does and when my eyes adjust, I see that he’s lying down, but facing me with his head propped up on one hand. “I guess if you’re not freaking out, this must be normal. Does this mean it’s night? I was hoping we’d get to eat something. Did you eat already? I haven’t eaten today. I think it’s been—”

It’s too dark for him to see my reaction when they shock me. Assholes. It’s not going to work to stop his chatting unless he sees the consequences of his topic choice for himself.

“—a few days since I got here, but I don’t know for sure. I’ve been in—”

Another shock, stronger than the last. Fuck me, he’s not going to stop talking.

“—basement rooms the whole time, but it hasn’t been that bad. All they ever did was—”

I’m having trouble fully catching my breath with how fast these are coming, the voltage ramping up each time. God, just go to sleep, please.

“—ask me a whole lot of questions. It reminded me of my college admissions interview but more like a—”

Holy hell does it hurt. It’s been a while since I was reprimanded up to this level. I’m not stupid or brazen enough to fuck up twice in a row anymore, let alone four times. There are tears running down my face. I guess this is more about telling me not to listen. If I block my ears will they stop? Probably not and that’s way too close to touching the collar anyway.

“—personality quiz. I guess that’s over now. I don’t know what’s going to happen—”

Stopstopstopstop.

“—next but I’m happy to have some company. Although, I guess you don’t talk much…”

Breathe, Emma, justfuckingbreathe. I do it through clenched teeth. My face is wet with tears and snot from the last two. I never have figured out if the duration of the shocks increases as the voltage does or if it just takes my body longer to recover. I can barely hear August ask if I’m okay over the sound of my pulse hammering in my head and my own breathing. Fuck. Get it together before you give yourself the shock that knocks you out.

Something taps me in the arm. I open my eyes as I shove myself back into the wall. August quickly steps away from the edge of my bed.

Ohmygod, Dumbass. Did you just touch me? Can’t give me a goddamn minute? I hold my breath but nothing happens.

“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you, Baby,” August repeats in a whisper, “I just brought you some water.” He holds out the cup, staying a full arms-length away, fingers gripping the top like a claw. He must have tapped the bottom of it against my elbow if they haven’t shocked me. It wasn’t his hand after all.

I exhale and carefully take the water by the bottom, trying not to shake so much that it spills.

He moves away, slowly, keeping his hands out at his sides again like I’m holding him at gunpoint. “I’m sorry,” he says, so softly I almost don’t hear it.

He thinks I was emotionally upset by his monologue. If only you knew, buddy. At least he won’t do it again or mention anything similar.

Eventually, he falls asleep and I’m thankful for the silence. Wyatt and his goonies talk to me plenty but it’s different when someone is expecting me to answer, and then I can’t. I stay up as long as I can because once I’m sleeping, I get shocked on a timer. Thankfully just with the lowest setting, but I’m not in any rush to feel it again. Sometimes, I swear it's every twenty minutes. Wyatt intentionally varies it. Snapping me back to my jacked-beyond-belief reality so I don’t ever forget it. As if my dreams haven’t also bowed to Wyatt’s will, but he knows that, of course.

He likes me better on my toes.

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[suca-loca]

the wolf always blames the food chain.

Pairing: Demus, Intruality /kinda, but not really, let me know if I should remove the Intruality one/

Warnings: Gore, murder, death, eating human beings, ghouls, cursing, lewd language, morally gray!Janus, morally gray!Remus

Authors note: Inspired by the anime Tokyo Ghoul. You don’t really need background knowledge of the show to read this, but it would be best to search up “Ghoul, Tokyo Ghoul” to get a better understanding of what a kagune is and to see what a ghoul’s form looks like.

Summary: Patton doesn’t mean to kill her as much as he doesn’t mean to get caught.

——

“I’m sorry,” Patton sobs, spit and bits of human liver coming from his mouth more than words do. “I’m so so sorry, Remus.” 

He holds her insides in his hands, but it is he who feels cracked open. The sins he’s worked so hard to keep at bay strewn out and about and on the walls for all the world to see. Because even when there’s a heart throbbing against his palm - not really pulsating at all, but moving so lifelike from how hard he shakes - he always ends up here. Making it about himself. 

Remus inhales, a juxtapose to the very still chest merely a few feet away. “You’re a ghoul.” 

He says it so calmly. Like he expected to walk into this scene after finishing a night shift at the hospital. As if this isn’t the first time he’s realized his roommate isn’t human. 

Patton glances at the broken body sprawled between his legs. At the woman who now looks more like a ragged doll than the neighbor who helped carry his groceries just a day before. And then he stares at his kagune, bright and blue and solid, but with the fluidity of a river, cocooning itself between the split of skin on her stomach, stretching the wound more and more until the sound of blood oozing onto the living room carpet roars like a waterfall. 

He looks up at his roommate, sclera coated in black instead of white and irises a shade lighter than the heavy red dripping from Patton’s chin. “I don’t wanna be.

“I want to be forgiven.” Patton wipes away the snot that drips from his nose, the tears that slide down his cheeks, unaware of the smears of blood he leaves in their place.“I want to be good. So, please, don’t turn me in.” 

Remus grins. Like a monster under the bed would. Like Patton should. “Liar.” 

Patton flinches back, more so from the shock than the accusation. This is not the reaction of a man terrified for his life. This is a man at the dealers’ table, holding the winning cards and knows it. “I’m not a liar! Who would choose this life? Having to constantly look over my shoulder, outcasted by the world, the killings - ”

“The power.” Remus cuts in. 

Something snarls in Patton’s gut. “I don’t care for that.” 

“Liiiiiiiiiaaaaar.” 

“I am not a liar!” The thing inside him raises its hackles, pacing slowly. He releases a sob. “Lying is wrong!” 

Remus laughs. Somehow a more sickening sound than the squelch coming from Patton’s kagune ripping itself free from the girl’s abdomen. “Nice to know the ghoul I caught red-handed - literally red-handed -  has a good sense of morality. What’s next? You’re waiting for marriage? Haven’t even touched yourself yet to preserve some purity bullshit?” 

“It’s because I’m a ghoul I’m so strict on myself about lying!” Patton cries. “The horrible things I’ve done to survive - ”

And like a drunk driver who thinks nothing can go wrong, Patton sees headlights in the shape of familiar amber eyes and there’s no time to step on the brakes before everything falls away. Please, she bawls, barely able to string the vowels together as easily as Patton can string her large intestine along and along and along and along. Please don’t do this. 

Patton avoids looking at the crumpled body he towers over. “Why bother with the little sins when you’re doing the big ones?” 

“Sins?” Remus’ eyes flicker to the cross around Patton’s neck. It hits Patton then that Remus’ gaze has been locked in on him this whole time, with the exception of the ten seconds he stared at the corpse when he first walked in. Patton should be glad the attention is gone, so why does he wish for it back? “Even after all this, you believe there’s a God? That you earned your way to the pearly gates despite all the lives you’ve fucked enough times over to make your bitch?” 

Patton can’t help but instinctively clutch the jewelry. “Belief is all I have. I don’t deserve a place in heaven, but the least I can do is try to do better in other ways to make up for the hurt I’ve caused. That has to count for something.” When he lets go he realizes his cross is now covered in blood. “It has to.” 

Remus steps closer, daring to enter the pool of blood that Patton was foolish enough to believe acted as a barrier, a warning. A threat.

“I can’t believe this shit I’m hearing! Do you mean to tell me murder cancels out because you tipped the pizza delivery guy more than twenty percent?!” Remus is shrieking now. He’s a city wire, spitting rogue sparks at Patton’s skin. “You don’t get to repent when you’re just going to do it again! There’s no point! As pointless as the creation made by your God where the left testicle hangs lower than the right one!”

Patton jumps to his feet, but it isn’t solid ground he stands on. The floor is slipping beneath him, with nowhere stable to go to. 

“The point is to be a good person! I don’t get to just stop, Remus! I have to eat! I didn’t even let her in with the intent to kill her! I let her in because she wanted to borrow eggs and I didn’t realize she cut herself on something until I opened the door and smelled the blood!”  

His hunger shrieks at the door because she’s there too. Two creatures as alive as the other. But this is a gladiator fight. The door shuts. He places his bets. 

He didn’t know not to open the door, but he knew better than to close it. 

Patton expects his voice to shake. He nearly flinches when what comes out is a deep rasp from the back of his throat. “I didn’t want to kill her. I… I just get so hungry.” 

A grin slides over Remus’ face, as direct and chilling as a hammer to the skull, and the thought that comes next hits Patton just as hard.

He needs to get out of this mess the same way he got in it.

“The wolf always blames the food chain,” the hammer says, and Patton breaks. 

The thing in Patton’s gut snaps its jaw, then strikes. 

His kagune reacts first, shoving Remus to the wall so hard an audible crack whips through the air. His legs comprehend the danger - the thrill - right after, seemingly gliding over the floor from how fast he moves. By the time the human has opened his eyes his hands are pinned against his head and Patton’s kagune hovers just a centimeter above the center of his chest. 

All done in less than three seconds. A testament to how inhuman Patton is, and yet he’s forced to wear their skin. 

“I’m a good person.” His breath ghosts over Remus’ lips. Is it wrong he wonders if it tickles or stings? 

Remus smirks. 

Patton hopes it’s both. 

“What you are,” Remus says, tilting his head to the right so that his cheek brushes against Patton’s forearm, smiling as if he isn’t the rodent in this mouse and cat game, “is a beast.” 

Color spreads to Patton’s cheeks, sitting there like it has a weight of its own, reminding him of how wrong this is. How wrong he and Remus are, whether separate or together. 

“There’s a wolf in you, pacing for the next chase. The poor thing’s been without a pack for so long,” Remus says softly. If Patton closes his eyes, he can almost feel Remus’ hands trailing up and down his stomach, softly, attentively - dare he say- adoringly, trying to find the lump of the wolf. Nails softly dragging before Remus’ fingers rest in between the curve of fat that ends where his hips start.

Perhaps it’s the thought of someone wanting to touch him willingly, wantingly, outside of those who hit or scratch or slap when he’s trying to fill his stomach for the day, that keeps the memories of why he’s been alone so long at bay. Better to focus on Remus’ half-lidded eyes than the day he was hidden under the floorboards by his parents at nine-years-old moments before ghoul investigators kicked down the door. 

“How much longer do I have to rile you up before I can get you to face me as who you truly are?” Remus asks, slightly purring. 

Kill him. 

Patton should. Should kiss him and shove his tongue through the gap he always considered adorable before tearing out the teeth Remus still has left. Should kiss the scar under his chin that Patton bandaged after a bar fight went wrong and replace it with a newer, deeper, and unhealable one. Should kiss the freckles scattered across his cheeks like a galaxy and use the constellations to find out what order he should rip them out in. 

Kiss him kill him kiss him kill him kiss him kill him kiss him kill him kiss him kill -

Remus turns his head slightly to, as if reading Patton’s mind, brush his lips against Patton’s forearms. “Not much longer, it seems,” Remus hums. 

A gasp leaves Patton’s mouth. He steps back immediately, forearm burning. 

But that’s not the only thing that burns. 

“How dare you.” He spits, eyes wild, and kagune flickering like a hungry tongue. “Do not speak as if you know me when you have no idea what it means to be born wrong.” 

At that response, anger flares up in Remus’ eyes. Patton almost sighs in relief when he sees it. It’s both relieving and terrifying to see Remus read him so clearly while Patton has no idea what’s going on in Remus’ playground of a brain. 

And then he realizes he was a fool to think he understood Remus at all because a second later the human pulls off his shirt. 

“Remus!” Patton stutters, face burning such an intense color of pink it makes up for the devoid of color on the corpses’ body at his feet. Before he can embarrass himself further with a failed attempt at a coherent sentence, Remus turns around and Patton’s eyes - curse his dumb eyes - don’t look away. 

An unwelcome jolt of desire shoots through him, but it is instantly squashed when he realizes what he’s really supposed to be looking at. Multiple slashes, old, deep, and that look to be caused at the hands of a wooden ruler, vertically run along Remus’ back. 

“You’re right. I wasn’t born wrong.” Remus looks over his shoulder, voice losing the edge of madness that makes him so him. “But my parents thought differently. So I understand the pain and hurt that comes with it.” 

Remus throws the shirt aside and begins stalking towards him, somehow still talking in the present while Patton is stuck in the six seconds before when he realized Remus also has freckles on his back. “I could tell right away that you were like me. Deceiving others. Deceiving yourself. I just didn’t know why, so I promised myself not to say anything until I had all the facts. For the first fourteen years of my life, I tried to fit in the mold my parents made for me before I realized this isn’t a Cinderella story where the shoe fucking fits in the end. My mother thought the scars on my back were punishment for playing the note of a violin incorrectly. She couldn’t be more wrong. It was a punishment for lying to myself for so long. It came to me then that I can’t be what I’m not. I can’t lie to myself or others anymore.” 

Patton doesn’t move away as Remus stops before him with the confidence of a man who didn’t just step over a dead body, too busy being pulled under by unending tides every time he gets too close to shore. 

For a long time, he told himself lying was not as easy to stomach as mankind. And yet it’s all he’s ever done. All he knows. He rips his roots out from one life to the next. Created new identities whenever the police got too close to the truth. Learned to turn around when someone’s order got called out. He had that name once. He had them all. A coffee mocha for the Dylan that was friends with a boy who had purple hair and skin so pale Dylan thought bleeding would do him good. Four cheese empanadas for Barry, who coincidentally met a man named Logan Berry, who didn’t like him all that much but would punch in a discount for him, so Barry would leave a nice tip because that’s what nice people did and he wanted to be like those people. Not the wolf in sheep’s clothing. 

When he resurfaced from the floorboards that day he was reborn amongst the cheers and applause of his neighbors congratulating the ghoul investigators for freeing the world from two evils. With his parents’ fresh blood squishing underneath his shoes as he made his escape out the back a horrible thought came to him. 

The world thought him better off not being born at all. 

Is that what would happen when death inevitably claimed him? No one to wail or grieve to prove he was loved. Not even a grave. His existence was despised. His death was cause for celebration. 

And what was a nine-year-old to do with that information but change?

He is drowning. He can’t even scream unless he wants to make the death more painful. Maybe he should. Self-destruction is a very human thing. 

Remus’ cups the ghoul’s face in his hands. A life raft Patton instantly clings to. 

“And that’s the difference between you and me,” Remus says, voice the gentlest it can be with the edge of permanent madness laced around his tongue. “This goody two shoes people pleasure you play? It’s not you. It never was. So cut the bullshit. You are so much better than that. You always were. Live for yourself, not for others.” 

Patton holds onto Remus’ hands, afraid once it leaves - because everyone always leaves - he’ll be made much emptier without it. He should not be feeling these things, least of all for this man, this human, when the air around him crackles with such a wrongness that it out wins Patton’s. No, worse. Better. It compliments his. 

If she hadn’t been nice, hadn’t been so her, she wouldn’t have helped Patton carry his groceries. And so she wouldn’t have known he had a batch of plentiful eggs to lend after realizing she had none to make the brownies for her nieces’ upcoming birthday. She’s on the walls, on the carpet, on the couch, on his clothes, because she was what the world took advantage of: kind. 

And that is why creatures like Patton survive. You do not make company with survivors and expect to leave in one piece. 

He’s at the shore now. But he’s not the same man who went into the water. He has been homesick for a person he could never be.

“Why are you telling me this?” Patton asks, while also wondering what could possibly be, in the already long list of things, more wrong with him that he finds the calluses on Remus’ hands make his touch more comforting than it already was. 

Remus presses their foreheads together. “Because I want you to know you don’t need to hide who you are around me. Ghoul or something else. You’re not alone anymore.” 

Patton doesn’t know what it means that his kagune, a literal weapon of destruction, tentatively lingers around Remus’ waist wanting to wrap around it in a mockery of a hug. Or how he feels about his soulless eyes, meant to strike horror and fear into the hearts of his food, soften as it drinks up the dimples on Remus’ face and the crook of his nose. 

He is saved from thinking too much about it when Remus speaks again. 

“You’re beautiful.” 

A beat of silence. At least, Patton thinks there’s one, the only beat he hears is the erratic beating of his heart against his chest. 

“You… you can’t believe that” is what Patton finally says. Eyes wide and the room suddenly too hot and the smell of her is starting to fill up the room which is definitely what’s keeping him from thinking clearly, even though the smell of rotting flesh is not new to him at all. 

Remus raises an eyebrow. “Well, it seems you missed the conversation we just had about not lying for others, so I guess I’ll have to start from the beginning. Ahem, you’re a ghoul - ” 

“You’re insane.” Patton rolls his eyes, unable to stop the totally unnoticeable and not at all loud snort that escapes a second later. He nearly flinches a second later when he realizes how mean it could come across. Patton never said anything mean. Who is he now? Is this another mask or is the real him slowly peeking through?

Remus smiles. “And so are you. Let’s lose our minds together and drive off a cliff like Thelma and Louise.” 

It isn’t a nice smile. Too much red gums and canine teeth, not sharp at all but giving off the impression that they should be. Everything about this human is sharp in the most troubling way. And yet, although it wasn’t the prettiest thing to look at, that doesn’t mean it didn’t make Patton feel something. 

He’s pretty sure it’s the first real thing he’s felt in a long time. 

With the last of his reserve crumbling away, he wraps his kagune around Remus and allows himself to indulge in the moment by closing his eyes. His hands pressed against the edge of his folded legs, pinky outstretched to lightly brush against Remus’ knee. It’s the smallest of contact, still, the pad of that same finger buzzes and sizzles in the most delicious way. 

“All the prettiest flowers have thorns,” Remus speaks, an earnest look in his eyes that almost undoes the chords of chaos that make him up. “Flowers don’t cry when they prick someone’s thumb. So why should you? We are what we do to survive. You can either take accountability for your actions or let the shame eat you as easily as you eat others. The choice is yours, but dammit - ” 

Remus pulls back slightly to get a good look at Patton’s face. There is an intensity and purpose in his body so rigid Patton fears he’ll break apart. 

“I want you to choose to not only survive but to live, Patton.” 

Patton stills, mouth suddenly dry. “... That’s not my name.”

Remus blinks. “Record scratch?” 

“Patton was a name I gave myself not too long ago,” the ghoul forces out. “I’ve had others. As fake as the one I have now. My real name…” He takes a deep breath, feeling the water of the crashing tides lick at his heels, ready to pull him back in. “My real name is Janus.” 

It goes quiet. 

It can’t be an eternity, but that’s what it feels like to Pa - no, to Janus. If it’s weird on his own tongue, then what could it possibly feel like to Remus? Is this where Janus has crossed the line? A fake name somehow more of a deal-breaker than eating mankind? 

His heart lurches at having had a taste of something… something he can’t really put his finger on, but he knows it’s something more, only to have it pulled out from underneath him. Will the pain in his heart stop if he rips it out? If that was what made this horrible emotion, this terrifying and numb feeling of loss to something that he shouldn’t have allowed to be his in the first place, stop he’d gladly do it. 

Then, because Remus is full of surprises, Janus is pulled by the hem of his shirt into a kiss. 

The kiss is anything but quiet. The kind of smooch you hear in some trashy, cheap porn production from a store that would allow a seven-year-old to walk out with. Remus shouldn’t be making out with him like this. Not when the crust of dried blood still lingers on Janus’ lips. Or when the stench of his latest kill sticks to him so thick his own kagune couldn’t pierce through it. 

Yet Remus shows no sign of stopping. 

Remus bites Janus’ lower lip and oh. Stars aren’t normally this close to the earth, right? Because that’s all Janus sees. In an instant his hands are gripping at Remus’ waist, holding on for dear life as Remus moves on to using his tongue for something other than giving Janus a harsh - but much needed - reality check. 

When Remus pulls back, Janus unconsciously brings his hands to his lips, as if the action will somehow replay the moment. How is it that someone so human can unravel a monster such as himself so easily as breathing? 

“Janus,” Remus says in awe, like his name consists of all the most heavenly sounds in a single word. Janus could listen to Remus say his name for eternity. 

“Janus, Janus, Janus, Janus. I love it! I've never met someone who has a name with the word anu - ” 

”We’re pronouncing it Ja-nice from now on, ” Janus says, immediately snapped out of daydream mode. 

Remus pouts. ”Fine. You're no fun.” 

”Am I?” Janus blurts out before he can stop himself. 

There is so much he doesn’t know about himself. Where does he even begin to piece together who he really is? 

Remus comfortingly squeezes Janus’ hand.  ”Don't worry. We’ll find out. Together.” 

Janus allows a small smile to slip on his face. He may not know who he is, but he knows what he wants. 

“I’d like that.”

The two get to their feet, now that the moment has passed they are acutely aware of the underlying problem in the room. 

“So, what are you going to do with the rest of the body?” Remus asks, approaching it to poke it with the front of his boot. 

“Eat it, of course. I’m still terribly hungry.” 

Remus whirls around immediately, a glint in his eyes similar to the ones found in kids wandering around Disneyland. “Can I watch?” 

Obviously, Janus should be disgusted. Instead, a small blush coats his cheeks and he finds himself star-struck at the sight of the cute gap in Remus’ lopsided grin.

“Oh,” Janus purrs, already rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, “please do.” 

[eugenesmorphine]

Hate To Love // Bill Leyden Imagine

Taglist: @alienoresimagines​

Words: 2,641

Y/N L/N was a Corpsman in the Pacific, only female in the Islands. What a wonderful time. She was first shipped to the Island of Peleliu. Which is where she met her best friend Merriell Shelton, Eugene Sledge, and a few other Marines. And where she thought she had met her enemy. Bill Leyden. Y/N was an overall nice woman, being mean when she had to be. Those moments such as when Marines don't follow her medical orders, Marines that put her down and or catcalling and being creepy just because of her Gender, towards Japanese POWs. Though, with Bill Leyden, it was a completely different story. Ever since they had first met when she joined the company, the smaller male seemed to have a problem with her. Harassing the poor Corpsman, making fun of her, shoulder checking her when she got the chance. The young female tried her best to keep her composure, knowing in the day of age, that is how men were towards women. Though, deep down, the comments got to her. Though, Y/N couldn't let those show because hell, they were in the middle of the war.

///

   Y/N sat in her tent, getting rid of old or used medical supplies, resupplying her med bag, and counting supplies. When her little chores were finished, she had decided that she would walk around the camp for a bit, seeing if every Marine was well enough to fight. She grabbed her bag's strap and placed in on her shoulders. Placing her helmet on her head and set out to walk around her camp. Of course, the female set off to find her friend group first. She hummed as she walked past other Marines, checking up on them. Ignoring the few wolf whistles and few cat calls as she walked by. When she heard Eugene call her over, she smiled and made her way over.

  "What's up Sledgehammer?" she asked, sitting on a crate. Y/N looked around the group, smiling at all her friends. Though, when she met eyes with Mr. Leyden, she frowned. She immediately looked away. She glanced at him through the side of her eyes, seeing him scoff and roll his eyes. A devilish smirk on his face. You could already see Eugene's and Snafu's face fill with annoyance. They didn't like how Bill treated Y/N. They knew she didn't deserve it, they didn't really know why they didn't get along. More of why Bill was so mean to her.

 "Nothing much there N/N. Just sitting in a shit storm of heat and being eaten alive by mosquito and waiting to go and kill some more Japs, " Snafu answered for Eugene. Y/N laughed softly, pulling out her Canteen and taking a sip, placing besides her on the crate she was sitting on.

  All was fine as the group chatted. All until Bill had been just a little too quiet. Y/N didn't pay attention to it, for which she was distracted by her friends. She didn't see Bill lift his foot and kick over your canteen, spilling all the water within it over you and the floor. It wouldn't have been that big of a problem if clean water wasn't limited down here in the Pacific. Y/N stood up, picking up her now empty metal canteen, snapping her head to look at Bill. A shit eating grin was plastered on his face as he saw the angry look she was giving him. Though, tears built up in her eyes from both frustration, hurt, and anger. She slammed the canteen onto the ground, surely leaving a dent in it. A loud clatter sounded as everyone in the tent jumped slightly. Even Bill Leyden. She watched as the male leaned back, crossing his arms.

 "What are you going to do little miss Y/N? Poke me with a needle, cut me then have to stitch me back up? Cry?" he spoke, his voice radiated asshole talk. He watched, seeming to enjoy Y/N's eyes fill with more tears and she pressed her lips into a thin line. Her face reddened. And then, Y/N exploded.

  "What the absolute FUCK is your problem Bill Leyden?! What did I do to make you hate me so goddamn much?! I have done nothing to deserve this bullshit from you! And when I'm scraping you up after the Japs eat you up and then spit you out, you will regret the shit you put me through! Fuck you Bill Leyden!" she yelled. A few tears fell as her chest rose and fell heavily. She threw her empty canteen at the now shocked Bill Leyden. He caught the canteen and  looked at the woman in front of her. She threw her arms up, huffing loudly, trying wipe her eyes as she stormed out of the tent. All eyes landed on Bill. Who was left staring at the canteen that Y/N had thrown into his hands. Merriell lit a cigarette and placed it between his lips loosely.

  "Not cool Bill Leyden. See what happens when you push poor little old Y/N over the edge. You are a grade A asshole," he spoke, his voice smooth like butter. Though anger was still laced in his words. The cigarette bounced between his lips as he spoke, he looked at Bill out of the corner of his eyes. Eugene sat, glaring at the man, shaking his head slightly. Bill just looked between the two men. Deep down he knew what he was doing was wrong. It wasn't that he enjoyed what he did. It was his bodies way to escape and deny the feelings he was having. But everyday, they just got stronger and harder to manage. So, the meaner he got.

  Bill Leyden wasn't being so mean to Y/N because he hated her. He didn't hate you at all. He couldn't. Mr. Bill Leyden was in love with the Corpsman. Though, the idea of falling for someone during the war, especially the only woman that was with them all the time, was terrifying. Bill knew that Y/N die any moment, the Japs didn't care if she was Corpsman, they killed anyone and everyone. He didn't want to be hurt if he lost her. So, with the help of burying the feelings he had for the female and just be mean towards her. Maybe it would make her stop coming around. Maybe it would suppress his feelings and make them not exist. Though, when she yelled at him, when she threw the canteen at him, it hurt to hear the words she used. And when he actually put his mind to it, he actually thought about how hurt Y/N must've been. The guilt finally hit him and his face softened.  He now felt like the real asshole that he was pretending to be. And he had no idea how to make up for it. So now he sat in the tent, Eugene and Snafu had left. Now it was just him and his thoughts.

  Y/N sat in her tent. Thankfully no one was injured so she didn't need to fix anyone up while feeling the way she was. The young Corpsman sat on a crate, a few stray tears were rushing down her face. Her heart hurt, along with her head. She understood she had feelings for Bill. Though, she was naive to think that it was just a simple crush. Nothing more. Though, after today. Seeing the grin on his face, and how he looked at her when he saw the tears in her eyes. The way it hurt even more than the other petty comments he would make, and the other dumb things he would do. She knew it was more than just a stupid little crush now. How could it be though? They barely spoke and if they did, it was either just him being a dick or the two bickering. Y/N hated it. Hated the fact that it made her think so much. Hated how much it hurt to hear him be so mean to her for no reason. She just couldn't wrap her mind around it.

///

  Here the Marines were. Bloody Nose Ridge. Y/N was running back in forth, trying to treat Marines from all different sorts of wounds. Running out to pull them to safety, getting herself covered in their blood in hopes to save them. Obvious some make it. And some don't. And some wounded survive the night from their wounds. But, Miss L/N couldn't worry about that. Just at the task at hand. Save just as many lives as she could. And not get killed by the Japanese soldiers that were killing her fellow Marines. She wanted nothing more than all the Marines to live, save all of them and everyone make it home safe. Alas, Y/N knew life wasn't like that though. All she could do was do her best. And hopefully save as many lives as she could.

  Y/N had been sprinting around, going man to man. And she looked up just in time to see Bill. The two of them hadn't spoke ever since Y/N laid into him. They hadn't even been seen together for a while. They completely avoided each other. But, the feelings between the two were still strong. Bill had been running, he stopped to shoot a few Japs in front of him. Y/N stood and watched. And she saw everything he was doing. But when she saw a Japanese grenade land about five feet in front of him, she felt a cold feeling in her body as her heart dropped. Time seemed to slow down. The Corpsman was already in a full sprint to get to him, but she couldn't get there fast enough it seemed. She saw the fear on Bill's face as he noticed the explosive. He turned to dive back away from it, which he did. Though, the percussion of the grenade blast and the shrapnel that spurted around hit him. That's when all of it went back to normal in Y/N's head. It wasn't slow motion anymore, she could hear everything going on around her. She froze for a quick second. Bill was about twenty or thirty feet in front of her. She watched as he groaned loudly in pain, writhing on the dirt and mud. When she saw the blood staining his clothes from different parts of him, it snapped the woman back to her senses.

   "Leyden!" she screamed over the sounds of gunshots and explosions. She ran, probably faster than she ever had in her life. She ran over quickly grabbing anti-clotting powder and pouring it onto the wounds that littered his body. Nothing that seemed to be fatal. Y/N let out a short breath of relief as she worked to patch him up. Things around her seemed to calm down as she was helping roughed up Bill to the wounded tent. He still needed to be fixed up, badly. She placed him on a cot. He could hear the Marine groan in pain. She turned and looked at him, placing some alcohol onto his wounds. She began trying to hush his groans, trying to calm him. "You're fine Bill, come on, you're going to be okay," she told him. Her tone hushed as she began stitching up certain areas and bandaging others. Her lips were pressed into a thin line as she focused on fixing the man up.

  He had lost a decent amount of blood from the wounds. Nothing too life threatening. But enough for him fall asleep. It was fine though because he needed it. Y/N had already fixed him up and she had been working on others in the larger med tent. The rest of the Japanese had retreated after about another thirty minutes of fighting. Now the Y/N had the job of tending on the rest of the wounded men.

  Y/N walked over to the unconscious Bill Leyden. She assumed he would be being sent to a hospital any day now. She sighed, checking his vitals and checking the stitching for any signs of infection. Y/N turned and went to leave until she felt a hand grip tightly onto her wrist. She looked down at her wrist, and followed the arm to the obvious Bill Leyden. His eyes opened tiredly. A small smile on his face. A red tint rushed to Y/n's face as she had a straight face. Why did he grab her hand? Didn't he hate her? She stared at him, he released her wrist and his hand fell to his side loosely. A smile still on his face.

  "Hey little Miss L/N," he said. His voice still raspy and weak. Signs of blood loss. She couldn't help but smile. His voice sounded nice, not mean, sarcastic or anything like that. "Thanks for fixing me up," he added. Y/N didn't really know what to say. So an awkward silence filled the area. That was, until Bill finally spoke after clearing his throat. "Hey, Uh, Y/N? I'm sorry for being an asshole. I know an 'I'm Sorry,' won't fix anything. And it is so hard to explain why I was such an asshole. and ugh. I'm just so, so sorry," Bill preached. He sounded sincere. Y/N stood there shocked. Her mouth slightly open, she was trying to find words to say but she just couldn't. No day in her life did she link Bill Leyden would be nice to her. Hell! Even apologize for being a total dick! The tint on her face grew. She knew Bill had more to say to her. So she closed her mouth and got ready to listen. "God Y/N, I just.... I just need to tell you," he started, propping himself up so he was sitting. His cheeks grew pink and he looked at the blanket that covered his lap. He looked up at her and it seemed like tears were in his eyes. "I'm so in love with you. Like completely head over heals. I was so scared about my feelings, and I thought if I was an ass towards you, maybe you would stop coming around and I would lose feelings. But the feelings kept growing more and more," his voice cracked mid sentence. He felt terrible. Embarrassed and ashamed he was. A few tears slipped down his face. He just kept thinking about how he could've died, and the last words the girl he was in love with said to him was her cussing him out. He quickly wiped his eyes, looking away.

  Y/N went and wrapped her arms around him gently. Not saying a word. Felling him tightly wrap his arms around her torso tightly. He buried his face in the crook of her neck. "Bill, I'm so happy you said that," she breathed out. A small chuckle leaving her lips as the released each other from the hug. Staring at each other. Both of them had a small smile on their faces. That was till Bill glanced down at her lips and back up at her eyes. He took it upon himself to bring his right hand to hold her head and placed his left hand on her waist. Pulling her in and softly placing his lips onto hers. Y/N began moving her lips against his perfectly. They pulled away after about fifteen seconds and stared at each other.

 "Y/N, promise me you'll be here when I get out of that stupid hospital," he asked, cupping her face. He stared deep into her eyes. His face dusted pink. Y'N smiled at him, giving him a peck on the lips and looked back at him.

  "For you Bill Leydon, I'd promise the world."

[ellsey]

Agents of Shield Rewatch 1x19 The Only Light In the Darkness

A romantic title for a semi-romantic episode. Wheeeeeeeee!

This guy borrowed Dumblydore’s Put-outer?

Jk he has random light powers or something

That includes like your soul light I guess? Honestly I have no clue.

It doesn’t really matter this guy is not the point.

Fitz is super concerned about his “buddy” Ward

Nice juxtaposition of what Ward is telling them vs what he actually did

Coulson looks vaguely suspicious of Ward?

Orientation! I have a looooooooooooooot of thoughts about this. Sorry in advance.

JK I’m not.

I’m going to separate this out by person.

May: This is where we find out May’s been married. Once. She looks perfectly at ease here. This is not her first rodeo. On the egg and rock question, May is very no-nonsense. In other words, she’s very Melinda May. Again with the deserted island box question, May wants a weapon she can use to defend herself and feed herself. Melinda May is a woman who knows what it’s like to have to survive without any backup. When asked why she’s still there though, she very readily answers, “Coulson.” That’s the reason she’s doing everything she’s done. Which makes their fighting even more painful.

Fitz: Fitz looks kind of uncomfortable, but more interested in how it’s all working? So typical Fitz. It’s just him and him mum he says. I feel like this can explain some of his reticence to say anything to Jemma. He’s been abandoned before. On the egg and rock question, Fitz (and Simmons) take this as a chance to analyze it from every different angle. So once again, very Fitz. And then we get to the deserted island box question. At first, Fitz clearly wants to over analyze everything again, but when forced to give an immediate answer he says, “Simmons.” For him, the one thing he never wants to be without is Simmons. He knows they can survive anything if only they are together. So for him, the box contains the only thing he really needs in this world-his partner. In answer to the question as to why he’s still there, Fitz says he’s got to stay close to the people he trusts. It’s obvious he’s very rattled by everything going on.

Simmons: I love that Simmons and Fitz clearly are giving the same answer here on the egg and rock question. PSYCHICALLY LINKED. For the deserted island box question, Simmons chooses the Tardis. I know this is kind of a throw away line to relax some of the tension in the scene, but it shows just how different a place she and Fitz are in. Fitz has had to consider his life without Jemma multiple times. Jemma hasn’t really had to as much. I think that’s part of why Fitz’s confession under the water in a few eps seems to be a shock to her. Picturing life without Fitz just isn’t something she’s doing at this point. In answer to the why are you here question, Jemma very honestly says she’s not sure. I think this is the first clue that she’s starting to realize how much her life is changing.

Daisy: Mary Sue Poots is an awful name. I don’t blame her for taking a different one. Poor Daisy is also having to reevaluate her place in this world again, and I think that’s reflected in her answer to the deserted island box question. She’s just so unsure. This is backed up when asked why she’s still there. She says it’s the only home she’s ever known. She doesn’t know where she fits in anymore, but she knows this is her family.

Trip: Aha! So Trip’s grandfather was a Howling Commando. He’s so awesome y’all. In contrast to May, when Trip answers the deserted island box question, he says a sat phone. While this is a very good and valid answer, it shows that he is used to having backup. While I’m sure he knows how to survive, he’s used to having a team there. Which follows considering the second he knew what Garrett really was he latched on to Coulson’s team immediately. I mean he obviously liked them, but I think Trip very strongly needs to have a team. In answer to the question of why he’s still here, Trip gives a marvelous answer about his legacy and the good guys winning which is so Trip because IT’S JUST SO PURE LIKE HIM.

Ward: I mean the beginning questions are easy for him. He doesn’t even have to lie really. Note he does want a weapon in the box though. And not a useful one like May. One to take out people. I mean I guess it could take out animals too, but I doubt that’s what he’s thinking of. And now Ward is having to lie about being an agent which is HILARIOUS to me. Oh how I wish Koenig would have just shot him already. In the end though he’s able to just tell the truth and say Daisy, so I don’t know what all this rigmarole was all about anyway. You’re so dumb Ward.

Ok they explained the bad guy’s powers but eh it’s not important at this point.

Haha Fitz’s face at having Trip be their pilot is funny, but also be nice Fitz. Trip is a good guy.

I understand though.

Ward and Fitz’s exchange is veeerrryyy interesting here. I do think that Ward was being genuine here. First of all he obviously knows that Fitz is in love with Simmons, but he takes it one step further by telling Fitz to tell her how he feels. I almost think Ward is still hoping to find a way to get the job done without having to cross every one off. Despite himself he has come to care for them in his own way, no matter what he says. Or maybe he just wants Fitz to have a moment of happiness because Ward knows he’s supposed to kill them soon. At any rate, Ward is correct that Fitz needs to just tell her.

Phil is a super bitter Betty about May. I do understand, but also be nice to her Phil. She just loves you.

Uh oh, this is clearly Audrey Nathan and she’s in trouble

Whaaaaaaat? Shield was being shady and trying to make him stronger??? Color me shocked.

Except not.

“Let’s live dangerously” oohhhh poor Koenig if only you knew

Ha Simmons has read enough fanfic to figure out the plot of this story that Audrey is telling about the Shield agent swooping in

Fitz has clearly not

Again, Ward is being sincere with May here. He’s talking about following orders because he’s having to do it even if he’s starting to question some of them

:( Don’t go May

Anyway if I had any slight sympathy for Ward I don’t anymore. Monster.

“Our best agents are watching” more like our two most lovesick agents

The things Daisy is saying about May is clearly VERY APPLICABLE to Ward here

She just doesn’t know it

Awww Fitz is very clearly watching Jemma and admitting he’s too scared to talk to her MY HEART

Man, I think we’re getting more honesty from Ward in this episode than in this entire season so far

I still find it hard to tell what is true about Ward’s family and what’s not

Eww this is not the kissing couple I requested

What a beautiful juxtaposition of these two scenes though

The terror of both Audrey and Daisy at the affection of two very dangerous men

Not to mention, it’s put up against the very pure love that two other men have. Coulson and Fitz are willing to put the well-being of the objects of their affection before their own in every way possible. LEARN SOMETHING WARD AND CREEPY CELLO GROUPIE.

Daisy figuring out Ward is Hydra kills me every time

I’m glad Phil got a moment with Audrey, even if he couldn’t stay

Daisy is so strong here. Queen.

Coulson now realizes he needs to make things right with May, but unfortunately it’s too late

Poor Fitz looked like he was going to say something to Jemma for a hot second, but he changed his mind. Sigh.

Daisy needs to decrypt the hard drive, and Ward must really be blindly in love with her because you can definitely see her wheels spinning here

I love May’s mom with all my heart

May’s going to find Maria Hill!

Man I had a lot more feelings about this episode than I thought. It’s just so dense though. It get’s a 10/10 on the JUST TELL HER YOU LOVE HER ALREADY scale and a 10/10 on the Ladies Who Are Scared to Death but Still Getting Things Done scare. My ladies really stepped it up this ep.

The song for this episode is the very aptly titled “Tell Her You Love Her (Acoustic)” by Echosmith because LISTEN TO THE WORDS PHIL AND FITZ AND JUST SAY IT ALREADY.

This is legit one of my all-time favorite songs, and it fits so well with this episode so I’m excited to get to use it.

[feed-the-birdss]

Let Your Hair Down

Authors Note: I wrote another Jily Fanfic based on the song “Let Your Hair Down” by MAGIC! This fic is dedicated to the Toronto Maple Leafs (who are, to my utter devastation, officially out after tonight’s game, but I just might survive), and to @blitheringmcgonagall for being so amazingly supportive lately <3

Summary: James and Lily are in their seventh year at Hogwarts, and the stress about being the perfect muggleborn Head Girl has been getting to Lily lately.

Read it on Fanfic.net

“I’ll see you later. I have a meeting with McGonagall,” murmured Lily as she got up from the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall leaving a half-eaten plate of her lunch. Just as she was about to walk away from the table, James grabbed her hand and looked at her with furrowed brows and a concerned look in his eyes.

Lily paused and looked back at him with a small smile as she gave his hand a squeeze with hers, making James’ expression soften in response, and she used her free hand to gently run her fingers through his hair unruly messy black hair as she walked past him to exit the Hall.

James watched her long red ponytail swing back and forth as she walked away from him with a dumb look on his face. All he could think was “there she goes, there she goes”. To him, there’s nothing better than her.

However, James’ train of thought about his beautiful woman was quickly interrupted when Sirius, who was sitting across from him, smacked him over the head. “OI!” yelled James to Sirius, “what the bloody Hell was that for!?”

“You looked like a fool just staring after her Prongs,” lectured Sirius as he continued to shovel food into his mouth.

“Whatever mate,” muttered James with a scowl as he too proceeded to finish his meal.

“What’s going on with her anyway?” asked Sirius before gulping down the rest of his pumpkin juice and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “She seems more stressed out than usual. Remus agrees.”

James sighed and pushed his plate of unfinished food away from him, “Yeah, apparently Mulciber’s dad, who’s on the Board, asked Dumbledore to remove her as Head Girl all because of some dumb ass uniform infraction he noticed when he came to the school last week. Dumbledore refused, obviously, but still…”

“The fuck!? That’s Bullshit. Every sodding student wears their uniform wrong. It’s a rite of passage for any poor bloke or bird who’s forced to wear this ridiculous monkey suit,” he hollered. “They can’t honestly expect us to have our top buttons done up all the time!? It’s a fucking death trap. I feel like I am going to choke whenever it’s done up,” ranted Sirius. “But Lily’s uniform is always near perfect though!? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her with her top button undone…fuck, how on earth does she manage that,” he paused. “Small neck must be. Do you know what he said was wrong?”

“Fucking prick said her shirt was wrinkly, and that her kilt was an inch above the approved kilt length,” fumed James as he turned around with clenched fists to look at Mulciber chortling with his friends at the Slytherin table.

“WHAT!?” bellowed Sirius causing many heads to look in their direction and for Professor Flitwick to throw them a warning look. “Kilt length. That cunt is attacking Kilt length!? They’ll have to kill me before I let the misogynist villains on the board try to actually regulate Kilt length! If a bird wants to show off her arse, who the fuck are they to stop her?”

“I know, mate, but now Lily’s not only all worried about being the perfect Head Girl, but also making sure she looks perfect too.”

“Well shit, they actually got to her?”

“I mean, she says she doesn’t care what Mulciber’s dad thinks of her, but she loves being Head Girl, and she sees the difference she’s making with the other muggleborns in the school. So she’s refusing to let herself give Mulciber’s dad, or any of the Slytherins really, any excuse to call for her removal, and that has added a Hell of a lot of pressure on her,

‘Like, I’ve never seen her wear a ponytail as often as she does now. This morning she actually steamed her school shirt, and worst of all,” sighed James with hunched shoulders, “she almost didn’t want to risk sleeping in the same bed last night.”

“Well I’m sure you did a good job of convincing her not to do that, right Prongs?” asked Sirius with a smirk.

James smirked back, and his eyes started to glaze over as if reliving a memory, “maybe.”

“Good man,” congratulated Sirius while reaching over the table to give James two pats on the back, “and now, we leave to meet Moony at the greenhouses,” he declared as he grabbed James’ collar to drag him to the greenhouse with him.

A few hours later, James was strutting down an empty corridor with his broom hung over his shoulder sporting his red and gold practice quidditch robes. Just then, he saw Lily turn a corner at the opposite end of the corridor.

She stopped once she saw him, surprised. He, on the other hand, quickened his pace.

“All right, Evans?” asked James with his customary smirk that brought Lily back to the days of when he used to ask her out repeatedly.

Lily started to walk toward him as well returning his smirk with one of her own, “I’m good Potter. You off to quidditch practice?”

“Yep,” answered James once her finally reached her. He dipped his head so he could kiss her, but Lily swerved her head away.

“James, we can’t. I don’t want to get in trouble about kissing in public,” fretted Lily as she quickly turned her head to look behind her and see if anyone saw. “Other students can’t do it. So we can’t either.”

“Lils,” he implored as he cupped her cheek softly with his broom-free hand, “there’s no one around right now though.”

“I know love, but I can’t risk it right now,” she warned with pleading eyes. She then carefully took his hand from her cheek and lightly kissed it before putting back beside him. “McGonagall warned me that the pureblood fanatics on the Board and the Slytherins are desperate to see me out because I’ve given a lot of the muggleborns here enough hope to stick around.”

That’s when James took a good look at her. His eyes moved over her from behind his spectacles, and he saw her polished black flats, her uniform approved grey socks ending just before her knees, he kilt exactly 5 inches above her knees, her crisp white shirt perfectly pressed with the top button done up, her red and gold tie tightly knotted against her collar, her black wrinkle-free robes, her perfectly groomed eyebrows, and her red hair slicked back into a perfect high ponytail hiding the waves he loves to run his fingers through.

He sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean to risk that for you. I just love you.”

“I know you do,” she said with an appreciative smile.

“Just, if you can, please tell me when I can steal that kiss from ya, okay?” he smirked.

Lily rolled her eyes, but her smile still remained. “Anyway, you should head to practice Captain. I’ll meet you after my rounds in our dorm.”  She then continued to head down the corridor.

After quidditch practice and his shower in the locker rooms, James went to his and Lily’s dorm to finish up his homework and get started on the Prefect’s schedule for next week.

When he heard the door opened he immediately looked up to see his beautiful girlfriend walk in with her red hair still done up in a tight ponytail.

“Hey,” he smiled as he got up to greet her properly. Her words about kissing echoed in his head, but he figured that they were alone in their private dorms, the water is warmer here; so he grabbed her around the waist and dived right in putting his lips on hers.

To James’ relief, he was met with no resistance. Lily’s hands went straight for his messy hair, and when he started sucking on her bottom lip, she moaned in response. His lips then left hers to follow her jaw down to her neck and nip at the soft freckled skin there while his hands started travelling up from her waist.

However, he paused when his hands reached the back of her bare neck. James’ lips broke away from her skin to look at her with an expression Lily couldn’t quite place. So, Lily, the crazy girl she could sometimes be, stuck her tongue from out between her lips and licked James’ face starting at his chin and reaching it as high as she could go.

“Ew Lils,” cried James as Lily burst out into a fit of giggles. James started laughing too while wiping his face with the back of his hand, “what was that for?”

“You stopped,” confessed Lily with the mischievous glint still in her green eyes. “I was just trying to get you out of your own fat head.”

James chuckled, “Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about your hair.”

“My hair?” questioned Lily confusedly.

“Yeah, I mean, no one’s here right now, and it’s the end of the day, so we’re not on the clock now either. I just thought that you could let your hair down, and that this moment is nice because of that fact,” he said while his hands made their way back to her waist, and he started to dive once again.

He was met with resistance this time, however, as Lily turned her head and looked up at him confusedly. “Uhhhh…what? You don’t like my hair up?”

“What!? No! It’s not that at all. I love your hair all ways. I would love you even with no hair. I just meant it metaphorically,” he paused, “okay, well no, I meant it literally too, but that’s just because running my fingers through your hair is one of my favorite things to do. But like, in the metaphorical sense, you know, you’re just so stressed and worried about needing to be perfect all the time because of Mulciber, so I just wanted to, like, talk to you about how you don’t need to worry about being perfect with me. You can relax you know….let your hair down and stuff.”

Lily just giggled and responded with, “you’re such an idiot sometimes Potter.” She then reached up her hand to pull the elastic band holding her ponytail out of her hair letting it fall down in the waves that James loved.

James hands immediately started to comb the soft strands relishing in the softness between his fingers with a victorious gleam on his face, and just as he was about to dive right back into their snog session once again, he was, once again, met with resistance as Lily swerved her head. “Oi!” he whined.

“Sorry Potter, we’re gonna need to hold off on the snog session until later. We need to practice the Chicken Dance if you’re coming with me to Petunia’s wedding. I refuse to have a date who doesn’t have the perfect technique for the most important wedding dance of all time,” she declared as she grabbed her wand from her robes to move the furniture around and make room for their practice.

James just laughed but proceeded to indulge in her foolishness anyway. He knew that this dance wasn’t that important and that Lily just wanted to make him look like a fool, but this was the best part of spending time with Lily when it just the two of them and she didn’t have to worry about being the perfect Head Girl. They could be ridiculously in love as they were, and more importantly, they could be themselves.