#sounds like he might not entirely agree with it either.... :D

[riversofmars]

NOT JOHN DORNEY REVEALING THAT *THAT* ENDING OF STRANDED WAS NOT HIS DECISION. FAITH RESTORED!

[solarmorrigan]

Okay, but imagine the absolute shit fit Eddie and Dustin would throw when it’s not either of them that finally manage to convince Steve to play D&D with them. It’s not Lucas, or Will, or even Erica, in all her terrifying, businesslike glory

It’s Mike fuckin’ Wheeler

Mike, who Steve has technically known longer than any of the other kids; who had never made a secret of when he’d thought Steve was a douchebag; who, even after Steve became de facto babysitter to the group and Mike could admit he didn’t entirely dislike him, had never quite warmed up to him the way the others had. Mike

Dustin has been on Steve’s case to join the game since they became friends, and Steve has said no every time. At first because it sounded complicated and boring and he had no interest, but later because he knows none of the other kids like him as much as Dustin does, and that’s fine, but he isn’t going to sit through something complicated and boring while a bunch of other kids glare at him

Sometime later, on one of the few nights neither Joyce nor Jonathan are available to pick Will up, and Steve is driving him home, Will mentions that it would be cool if Steve wanted to join in and play – since he has to schedule his nights around their games sometimes anyway, after all. Steve smiles and tells him thank you but no thank you. Will is kind, and patient to a fault, and Steve has no doubt Will would genuinely try to include him, but he doesn’t want anyone to feel like he should be invited as an obligation. He really doesn’t mind driving

After Steve starts playing basketball with Lucas, Lucas invites Steve in turn to play D&D with The Party. Steve turns him down, saying he’ll stick to what he’s good at. He wonders if maybe Lucas feels like they should do an exchange—Steve has given him some pointers on basketball, so maybe Lucas will give him pointers on D&D—but really, he’s happy spending his time playing with the kid. He doesn’t need to be offered anything else

Steve turns Eddie down flat no matter how much he wheedles, whines, or offers bribes of various favors and orgasms. He knows Eddie’s previous reputation, that he hasn’t been inclined to accept or be entirely patient with novices at the game in the past, so he’ll either sweep along as usual and leave Steve in the dust, or he’s planning to change his entire style to hold Steve’s hand and help him figure it out, probably to the detriment of everyone else’s enjoyment. Neither option is appealing

Erica asks Steve exactly once, telling him that the only way anyone is ever going to shut up about it is if Steve agrees to play. Steve tells her that, unfortunately, she’ll just have to continue putting up with their whining. She doesn’t seem happy, but she’s certainly not going to beg him to play, and that’s that

But then, one night, Mike watches the whole song and dance routine as Steve drops off Dustin, Lucas, and Erica; tells Dustin that no, he’s not going to stay tonight; kisses Eddie hello and also tells Eddie that no, he’s not going to stay tonight. Mike sighs loudly as Steve moves to head up the stairs and out of the basement

“Dude, we both know Eddie and Dustin have made, like, a dozen characters for you. Just pick one and play with us.”

And Steve stops

Because Mike has never pretended to like Steve. Mike has never pretended to like anyone. He’s jealously guarded membership into The Party, denying anyone he isn’t one hundred percent certain about. He’s about as protective over his nerd game as Eddie is (and as protective over his friends as Steve himself). And with no clear reason to, he’s asking Steve to join them

And Steve can’t help but admit that Mike may actually just want him to play – that maybe they all do (and maybe he sincerely does want to join them, even if it still sounds complicated and might still be boring; maybe he’ll just like spending time with them)

So he sits down and asks what the hell he’s supposed to be doing

(He’s never had so many people try to show him how to do something at once)

[sapchat]

The Lord's Daughter

Cassian x Devlon!Reader

Synopsis: You’re Lord Devlon’s daughter, which definitely won’t cause any issues. Right? Fluff and Angst

Warnings: Devlon, misogyny :D, abuse, wing clipping, also you’re somewhat of a housewife because I read to many stories of people that end up with Cassian, Azriel or Rhys where they want to train and be strong. You can be strong and take care of a house, fuck that fighting shit. Also, I use female terminology, but you could read it as a more feminine male, FtM or even MtF if wanted.

Words: 7.6k

The High Lord was coming to the house for a meeting, and then dinner. Father stated they were to talk about the camp, what the High Lord wanted to change, to talk about the girls training. Father stated it was because ‘that bastard general of his’ has reported once again the girls aren’t training. The other lords of Windhaven have all agreed that the girls can train just after their chores.

The only issue with that is the males of camp have just been giving us more work. So where I used to have time to myself to read, or play piano, I spend most of my day now doing chores and helping the younger girls of camp.

I don’t mind it, truly, it helps them out to do what they want. Train. I just don’t have an interest, and it’s not because my Father believes a female’s place is the house, I just don’t enjoy it. I’ve spent enough time helping patch up the warriors in the infirmary to know I want nothing to do with it.

I’d rather be a ‘housewife’ likely to the High Lord’s displeasure.

It doesn’t help that the General has been pestering all the girls lately to see why none of them are training.

It doesn’t help he pestered me before about it. Just before Rhysand became the High Lord. That thought caused me to look to my father, who had been in the sitting room sipping his whiskey.

“Father, do you know how many will be attending the meeting and meal? So, I might be prepared?” I ask, and the look on his face either turned to anger because I interrupted his thought or because of who will attend.

“The bastard lord, and his two-bastard ilk will attend. Not sure about his whore cousin.” He answered and downed his glass. Yea the anger is from the guests.

I wiped my hands on the apron I wore and untied it to set to the side, “Is there anything you’d specifically want for the meal? I can head to the butcher’s tomorrow when he opens. And I believe that the Huxley’s just finished canning and harvesting some of their vegetables for the season, I can stop and see what they have.”

“Get something from a pig. Just what they need to remind them what they are. No better than anyone else. Just nicer versions of pigs.” He poured himself another glass. Three fingers full this time.

“Pig sounds good, it’s been a little while since I’ve made a pig roast. I get some beans and potatoes to mash with it if that sounds good father.” If I’m to roast an entire pig for dinner, then I’ll have to go to the butchers early. Hopefully Elias can help bring it to the spit for me.

Father just grunted in reply, I’ll have to see what good alcohol I can find on short notice to serve. Possibly a cheap wine for me in order to get through it all.

Father was to spend most of the day showing the High Lord, the General and the Shadowsinger how the troops were, and how the girls’ training were proceeding, whilst I prepped the house for dinner. Turns out a pig roast doesn’t take as long as one would think to cook.

So, I got to spend some of my morning and afternoon outside tending to it and watching the camp show what they’ve learned. What new techniques have been taught from the war, whilst some of the girls stood to the side doing simple maneuvers like breathing or stretching.

It was strangely beautiful seeing the males move how they did. Like it was a dance whilst they were paired off, a dance that turned bloody and violet sure, but a dance nonetheless.

I tried my best to ignore the eyes of the three guests but at some points it couldn’t be avoided, and I’d quickly look away and go back to peeling my potatoes. Like a game of camp and mouse, except each time I’d glance there’d be some type of questioning look in one of their eyes. The General’s.

Whilst one of the three would pop in for a visit to the camps occasionally, I was never around. I’d just hear my father’s complaints later. With the occasional slap if it was a real grueling day. They weren’t the worst punishment you’ve received from the man. By the time it gets to the point he wants to slap he’s had a few glasses full, and he doesn’t have much strength.  

Besides he wanted me to look beautiful so he could still possibly find me a husband. Being the camp lord’s daughter did have its benefits. A pick of husbands, not that I’d get to chose but, and less beatings than some of the other women. Because whilst father would have rather had sons, he only has me. And as cruel as he can be I can say he doesn’t hate me. Detest me for not having a cock, sure.

But I am still his child.

Cauldron, part of me thinks just a little he hates he clipped my wings. He’d done it properly, thankfully. Had the best healer tend to it, so I still have functions in my wings and no real pain. Many of the girls and females in camp can’t say that. I’ve tended to many of them after the fact of how mangled their fathers make them. How they can barley even function.

The High Lord has attempted to ban wing clipping, imposing harsh punishments on those who still do it. It hasn’t stopped many of the fathers from clipping in secret. Which has caused more injuries than needed. It doesn’t help many of the males of camp beat their wives and daughters.

No wonder some many of the fae hate us. No wonder the High Lord and his friends hate coming around. Maybe that’s what the meeting is about. More changes to make to the camp. I’m sure father will love that. Something I’ll have to listen to until the next demand the High Lord makes.

I’d been so busy peeling and cutting up potatoes I didn’t see the massive imposing figure next to me. Red siphons littering his body, stature casting a shadow over my body, wings just posed enough to not be aggressive but catching my attention.

“Why aren’t you training with the other girls?” It was the General, Cassian, who had walked up to question me. And I’m shocked to find him talking with me. I’m trying to remember when the last time it might’ve been, and the only time I can think of it was around the time of their Blood Rite at a bonfire.

The war came not long after that, and then once it ended, I started taking care of the house more. Learning how to be a good wife from my mother, learning from some of the healers how to care for wounds.

“I’m peeling potatoes…” It’s the most obvious thing that I’m doing. He can see the potato in my hand, the others that had been peeled, and the skins on the ground around me.

“The girls of camp are to train just everyone else. So… why aren’t you training yourself?” He asked again, as if it’s the strangest thing in the world to not want to train. To rather cook, clean and care for a home than fight and get bloody and bruised.

“Because I’m prepping for dinner. After the meeting with the High Lord.” It’s a simple answer, one anyone should be able to guess, especially the General.

“Lord Devlon has been instructed that all girls of training age, or those that wish to, train before doing chores.”

“I know the rule Lord Cassian,” He cringes lightly at the title, “My father tells the camp of the rules the High Lord has created and has been enforcing. Believe it or not, I am not of training age nor do I want to train. I am perfectly content doing what I have been.”

The General almost seemed shocked at what I said. And just as he went to add something else, someone called him back to the others. He looked at the voice, then back to me, as if he was going to ignore them. Continue to question me; but he left.

Once he left, I took the food inside, to finish cooking it. The Generals presence reminding me of that bonfire. What the night brought, what rare fun you got to have. Before many of you had responsibilities for the real world….

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Flashback~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“If your father finds out I allowed you to go out tonight he’d have both our heads.” My mother had stated glancing hesitantly at me from over the counter.

“Well, father is going to be in meetings with some of the camp lords, and other males of camp. Hence why this party is happening tonight.” I told her, the crunch of an apple piece ending my statement from the fruit she had given me for a snack.

“You’re not going to do anything… reckless are you? Nothing to…-“

I interrupted her, “Mother I’m not going to sleep with anyone. My pureness will be intact when I leave the house and will still be present when I come back. You’ll have no issue marrying me off. Even then, you and father are still able to have children.”

My mother had walked around the counter and pulled me into her chest, kissed my head and stated, “Why would I ever try to mess up perfection?” She had always said I was the best thing she made; no other child would be able to compare.

By the time I had gotten to the party it was in full swing, liquor and ale being passed around in cups, people sneaking off to the shadows to feel or hook up.

I had just planned on seeing some of my friends, only have maybe one or two drinks, I hadn’t expected the heir to the Night Court to be there. Which meant his two shadows would be around him too, both bastard low-born males, one who fought for his place in Windhaven and slid his way to the heir’s side. The other, the one everyone says was kissed by flame and shadow, who was dropped off here by his father’s guards as a favor to whoever his mother was. Just because the Lady of Night was a family friend.

The three of them weren’t much older than I, maybe by a few years, they were nearing the age and power to compete in the Blood Rite, where many Illyrian males aim for the age of 30 to compete. The name is self-explanatory, it’s a rite of passage where lots of blood happens.

I had spotted the long-hair male, I believe his name is Cassius or along the lines, standing by the fire passing a cup of ale to another female. Brushing through the crowds, I made my way over looking at the different drink options feeling hazel eyes looking at me.

Without even looking at the person staring I ask, “Going to give a suggestion or just keep starring?”

“I mean either works for me. Which allows me to stare longer?” Cassius… Cassiel… shit what is his name…

“Hmmm… giving a suggestion allows me to sip something as you stare.” I finally turn to look at him, and realize how much taller he is. He’s standing at least a head over me, if not two heads. Maybe a head and a small head.

“Ale is always a good choice. If you’d like something harder, a whiskey mixes or rum. Something sweet, I saw someone walk by with wine earlier so that’s somewhere… Cassian by the way.” CASSIAN! That’s his name.

“Y/N, and I’m okay with ale. My mixed drinks either varies by too strong and mainly the liquor or not enough and its basically just soda.” He nods his head and takes to pouring me a cup, getting no foam in it before handing it over.

“So, Windhaven native orrrr….?” He asks, and I can’t tell if he expects to end the night in my pants or not. If he actually just wants to get to know me.

“Native, my father is one of the lords sooo. Kinda have to follow the line. Only reason I got to come tonight was the meeting.”

“Yea, that was the main reason for this soiree. Helps that the High Lord is there taking the attention off of us to do it.” My eyes widened just a little, not realizing that the Lord of the Night Court was present.

“I didn’t realize he was coming to that meeting… how do you know that, figured it’d be a bit of a secret.” I watch as he points off to the side, following his direction I see how he knows, the heir, Rhysand is against a tree. Kissing another male with a female between them.

“He’s… committed?” I don’t even know how to describe it, and whilst it wouldn’t be me… I won’t judge others. That’s wrong.

“Oh,” the sharpest grin spreads on Cassian’s face, “He’s a very committed High Lord.”

“I’m sure the Night Court will be in… loving hands?” It’s a questionable laugh, one I hope doesn’t offend him or his friend.

“He will be, he’s got plans. Hopes to make Illyria a better place. But none of that, you’re drinking with one of the next Carynthian!” He’s proud of the statement, as if knowing he’s going to win no matter what.

“Oh, you’re competing this coming spring? Are… are all three of you doing it?” It’s a simple question, one because I know my father has already complained about them signing up together. It’s somewhat nice seeing others give him a headache rather than I.

“You can bet you’re sweet ass.” My eyebrows raise as I blink at what he exclaimed, “We all plan to complete it together. We started as one, we’ll end as one.”

“That’s… sweet. To many Illyrians die during it… To much blood shed just to come out on top just to come out with bragging rights.”

Cassian shrugs as if it isn’t too much of an issue. “Everyone in this camp is out for someone’s blood. The blood rite keeps everyone… sated. It’s a way to get rid of your enemy’s or people you hate without having to deal with a punishment from Lord Dickhead. Illyria is awful anyway with how everyone gets treated, if there weren’t challenges or the blood rite, we’d never be an army. Be to busy fighting each other.”

He's right but the name ‘Lord Dickhead’ throws me off… he’s not talking about…? “Lord Dickhead?”

The biggest grin ever splits across his face, and that’s how I know 1. He’s talking about my father and 2. He doesn’t know I’m his daughter. “Lord Dickhead, Lord Devlon. He’d answer to both I think.”

It had caused me to laugh, Windhaven is a big camp so not everyone realizes that my dad is one of the lords, let alone realize I’m his daughter. We talked more that night, but Cauldron knows I can’t remember. The ale was pretty strong, and I hadn’t drunk much before. But I do remember the night ended with a sloppy kiss.

We had moved to just the outskirts of the party, and he made a comment about going to be the best warrior the camp has seen. His goal was to be a general one day. And I had made a silly little comment about me being the fair maiden and him being the amazing knight.

He told me that the knight always gets a kiss before and after saving the maiden. So, he said he earned a kiss before the Blood Rite. So, I risked it. One of the only times I ever risked my status and the ire of my father.

I pressed my lips against his, hesitantly. He cupped my cheeks in his hands, tilting his head just slightly and pressed his lips against mine a rush of heat flowing through me. My brows furrowed just as he ran his tongue along my lip and in my confusion, I followed instinct and raised my hands to cup his face.

It had been a hot, hungry rushed kiss. My first kiss, something no other male got from then on. The war came after, among a thousand other things. But it always felt like a part of my soul was missing from then on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Present~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had been so lost in my daydream I had finished the potatoes. The type of ‘blackout’ where you just rely on muscle memory and continue doing whatever you were and come back out after going “Oh I actually cooked those right and didn’t just imagine it right?”

I quickly started setting everything out on the table, laid out the glasses, with a pale of ice cubes if wanted and the slightly expensive whiskey I found set out as well.  

And just as I finished stirring the mashed-up potatoes, I heard my father lead the males in. In walked the High Lord, the Shadowsinger and Cassian. I walked into the doorway of the eating room, watching my father lead them in, the whiskey and glasses already on the table from earlier today.

My father nodded to me, seeing that everything was out for them already. He then turned to the others and nodding in my direction and three sets of eyes lay on me. Each holding different twinkles in their eyes. “I’m not sure if you all remember back from, you’re all’s youth, but this is my daughter. Y/N Devlon.”

The High Lord’s and Shadowsinger’s expressions stayed neutral, but Cassian’s eyes widened just a bit. Either from realizing that I would in fact know the rules because of me being his daughter. Or because he finally remembered who I was. 

Either way I bowed just enough to be respectful, “Hello. Dinner is ready, and I left the option of drink choices. I hope everything is to your guys’ liking.” The Shadowsinger’s gaze glanced over the table, likely trying to see if anything would be poisoned but his gaze stuck on the roasted pig sat out, glistening with juices.

As if realizing what caught the shadowsinger’s attention, the High Lord and Cassian’s attention moves to it as well. Cassian only really seemed to have an issue with it, his teeth clenched and fist slightly clenched.

The High Lord took it in stride however, “Devlon, I’m glad you remembered how much I loved a roasted pig. Did it come from the Collymore family? They still have their butcher shop don’t they?”

My father leaned over his seat, and poured himself a glass, “You are correct Rhysand, the Collymore’s still have their butcher shop, their son has helped take it over. Truly it was them to remember your love for pig. Too many of you boys I raised and sent off to remember it all.” There’s a little eye twitch in his eye at the dig. “Please sit. Let’s not let this meal go to waste.”

I helped pour glass for the males, asked if anything else was needed before being waved away by my father. Walking back into the kitchen for my own dinner, I felt eyes follow me.

My own meal was smaller, consisting of really only the sides, pork wasn’t my favorite choice of meal, especially when it came to having to look at the face of a pig while eating. I spent most of dinner trying to ignore the conversation happening one wall over.

Voices varying in differing heights as disagreements and agreements happened. Why they elected to have a meeting over a meal? I’m not to sure. Doesn’t seem like much eating is actually happening. And as the person who cooked the meal, it kind of upsets me that my work is going to waste.

I could see the little shadow join me in the kitchen as I ate. Giving me some company, granted I’m sure it’s reporting back. As soon as that thought happens, it shoots off and another replaces. At least I think it’s a different one.

I’d been so distracted by the noises from the other room and the little shadows I didn’t see the massive frame entering the kitchen from the back. I jumped a good foot when I heard him speak.

“Why didn’t you say you were Devlons’ daughter?” General Cassian.

“Pardon?” It comes out quickly, just with one breath as I stare at him. His wings flexing with a slight irritation to them.

“You know what I asked.”

“Are you talking about earlier today or when we first met?” It’s a good question. Simple enough that if he doesn’t remember then I don’t have to possibly deal with the fact we drunkenly kissed. Or I can let him have some panic for calling my father ‘Lord Dickhead’. Even if that shoe fits.

“That depends. When do you think we first met?” I just slightly narrow my eyes, then glance in the direction of the dining room and back. What’s his game? And how do I play?

I’ve grown up around these warriors. Whilst I’d rather stay at home, I can bite back. “’Lord Dickhead.”

A saccharine smirk grows across his face, a glistening white canine peaking out. “What would Devlon thing about his daughter kissing an Illyrian bastard?”

“He didn’t know. The only one who did was my mom. Maybe your friends. But I never said a thing. I don’t kiss and tell.”

“That why you don’t train? Because he’s your father and he doesn’t allow you to?” He seems almost pissed as if it’s my father not letting me train.

I finally set my fork down with my plate and glare, “If I wished to train with everyone else. I would. It’s my choice whether I do or not. The High Lord doesn’t require me to train, he just states that the girls that wish to train, do. And I don’t want to.” My wings have started to flare just lightly, likely the only amount of dominance I’ll ever show.

He glances at my wings, eyes narrowing as if now realizing that my wings were clipped. A slight growl coursing through his chest. “So doesn’t allow you to train and clipped your wings. Wonder how Rhys would feel about him breaking both rules he’s imposed.”

I pull my wings back in close and tight to my back almost self-consciously before saying, “My wings are none of your business. It especially doesn’t concern the High Lord. What I do is not any of your business either. If I wanted to train, I would.”

“It matters if the Lord of this camp is breaking the laws that have been imposed by the High Lord. Rhysand has explained in great detail what the punishments are for wing clipping, and for not allowing the girls of camp to train.” I understand they want change. I do. But the punishments he’s talking about is either a beating or death. To “prove a point” they just kill them.

We’re in silence for a few minutes, him waiting for me to bite back likely. And when he seems to think I won’t, he turns to leave. To go back to his precious High Lord, but as he hits the doorway something makes me open my mouth, “They were clipped before I met you. Even before the bonfire.”

It makes him pause, but he continues back to the dining room.

It’s a week later until I see him again. I had been walking around the farmer market the camp has. And he seemed to be walking around buying some of the food, either for a quick lunch or just to support some of the families of Windhaven.

So, being the peace maker, I try to be, I go up to him, “Hi.” Simple, if he wants, he can ignore me, or he can engage.

“Y/N. How are you?” Okay so not an immediate ‘fuck off’ so that’s good.

“I’m doing great! How about you?”

“Good.” Okay so maybe he’s just being polite.

“…What brought you to the market today.” He just glanced at me, and it’s really making me rethink trying to be nice.

“Have you been over by the Monroe stall since being back at the camps? Cade and his wife Calliope run it now. I think he did the Blood Rite a couple years after you.”

He sighs, “What are you doing?” He just barley looks down at me, an emotion in his eye I can’t pinpoint.

I just shrug, “I don’t know, I figured you’d maybe like the company. I know you’re not the most popular in the camps all considering. Plus, that first time we met we were friends,” I look down at that, “At least I think we became friends. Even if it was just for that short time! I didn’t really see you after…. And I know the second time we met it was tense, but you were eating dinner with my father-“

He cuts me off, “Whilst you were eating the bare minimum in the kitchen. Alone.”

My eyebrows furrow just lightly, “I couldn’t really eat with you guys. You were discussing camp policies. Not really a place for me.”

“Because you’re a female?”

“No, because I don’t know anything about camp policies. It wouldn’t make sense for me to be there. It’d be like if I showed up for a war meeting. No reason for me to be there.” It makes sense in my head so I would think it makes sense in his.

“That’s your home. You prepared the meal; you welcomed us into the home. You should have sat at the table and ate.”

“Can I ask something General Cassian?” It’s something I want to know. But his face makes me smile just a little.

“You can just call me Cassian; but yes.” It’s almost a grumble with how he answers.

“Why does it bother you so much? How I decide to do things with my life?” He pauses in his step as if debating something. Either to answer or to tell me.

“That night. The… night of the ki- of the bonfire.” He rephrases his statement as if remembering we’re around others of camp. As if he realizes if anyone overhears, my virtue will be in question. My reputation in the camps, ruined. “I… I know we’re older. Now. But I thought I felt something… that night. Something deep in my soul. And then you were gone, the Blood Rite happened, then the war.

Just to find out you were under my nose the entire time. Did you know that Rhys didn’t know Devlon had a wife, let alone a child. One so close in age. Let alone one who’s wings had been clipped, doesn’t train with the other girls and females of camp.”

“He doesn’t have a wife anymore. My mother died not long after the war ended. And I told you the other night that my wings were already clipped the first time we met.” I sharply turn in front of him, “Also, I didn’t realize I had to inform you who I was when we met. I don’t usually walk up to people go ‘Hi my names Y/N, my father is Lord Devlon lets go make out!’ When we met, we were nobodies. You didn’t have a title, such an important role, so many responsibilities. So, I stayed out of the way. No matter what I might’ve felt that night.”

It's like a ripple is sent out. Something in the wind has changed. But all we can do is look at one another. Both breathing slightly heavily from what’s been shared.

Cassian looks away for just a second, nostrils flaring. “Is that why you didn’t come around? Because I’m a bastard? A fatherless motherless brute with no standing?”

I scoff at what he’s trying to imply, “Why would your parents matter to me? I didn’t come around because 1. How did I know you wished me to? You were sent to the Blood Rite the night after, then the war came, Rhysand became the High Lord and you left. 2. You forget that even though my father is Lord Devlon, I am a woman, a daughter to a brute that cares more for this camp than I. I have no standing which is something I’ve accepted.”

“So, I just assume I’m supposed to sit here and believe, that even when I was not a general, you would’ve had me? Would’ve let me court you?”

“YES!” I exclaimed, the few people still wondering around the market glancing in our direction. I hold my stuff a little tighter before glancing back at Cassian’s eyes, “Come on, follow me before we get into any more trouble.”

The winged male slowly followed behind, as if he were a child that had gotten in trouble. Luckily, father was to be with the ‘troops’ and wouldn’t be at home until late. So, we would be left in peace for a bit.

“Won’t Devlon get pissed your in here  unchaperoned with a male?” He’s almost hesitant in walking into the house, as if he’ll be run off for just walking in.

“Believe it or not, even though I’d rather stay in the house and raise kids than fight, I am allowed to make my own choices. Much to my father’s anger.” There’s just the smallest smile that graces his face, it lights up as he does.

“Is that why you don’t want to train? Because you would just rather keep house than be a warrior?” It’s as if he’s finally understanding me, finally realizing that everyone wants something different.

“I’m an only child, I always begged for siblings, always played with babydolls, or played house. My mother couldn’t have anymore kids, I never truly knew why I just know she couldn’t. Because of that, I spent most of my time playing ‘mom’ with different things and people. That’s all I wanted to be… Then my mother passed away after the war, that disease that passed through the camps, remember? The dreams of a sibling kind of… shattered, unless father remarries.

Then the High Lord became the High Lord, started changing the rules of the camps, trying to make change. Think what you want about my father, I know how he seems and gets viewed, but he’s always been like that distant in his own way. Cass, I wish I was one of the females of camp that wanted to train, he’d allow it if I truly wanted to, but I don’t. It’s not something I want for me, I want to be in the home taking care of people, raising kids if I get to have them. And if that’s not something you can accept… then I don’t know if there could be an… us.” I glance up towards him, and the most heartbroken look is on his face.

“I couldn’t care less if that’s what you truly want. I only cared because I thought you were being kept from what you wanted to do. I didn’t know you truly didn’t want to train, I thought you were being forced to keep house. That’s why I was pushing for it so much, that’s why I cared.” He still has the look on his face, as if I’ve killed his mate…. Wait….

“Earlier… you said something… about the night we… kissed. That you thought you felt something… What did you mean?” It’s like a white sheet has draped over him, his tan Illyrian skin lighting to an unhealthy look.

“It-it’s nothing. Just I don’t know Y/N we were drunk, but I just feel like-“ He’s twiddling with his fingers as I interrupt him. Something I never picture the general doing, the famed Prince of Bloodshed.

“It felt like something more? Something… in the making, or in the forming?” His hazel eyes make contact with mine, an almost knowing glint in them. Like he’s already thought that’s what it was, although there’s still a look of fear.

“I’m not sure if that’s what it is. The only experience I have with mates is Rhys’ parents’… and they weren’t… the best examples. I just know that night I felt something, and ever since then it felt like something’s been missing. Until we met again, and that feeling came back.” I chew on the corner of my lip, chewing on the skin some.

“So… are we mates?” That beautiful grin is back on his face, the color her lost coming back to the usual tan.

“I think we’re mates.”

Right as he says it, as if talking about it summoned it, that beautiful golden bridge is formed between us.

It’s been almost a week since the mating bond formed between us. Something that I’ve kept away from my father, which Cass has been in full support of. He has started to buy and give me courting gifts, which I can’t tell if my father noticed and is ignoring or not. Granted I did want to put feelers out at dinner tonight.

“Father?” I hope my tone isn’t as anxious as it sounds, but I fear it might be.

“What would you like Y/N?” He asks still reading the report he has in his right hand as he eats.

“Would....” How do I approach this? “Would it be okay if someone… started to court me?” This makes him pause mid-chew, and it’s then I start to wonder if maybe he is just slightly more male than I thought, than I saw.

“Is there a male in the camps courting you? Because if so, they should be coming to me for permission. Who is it?” Okay yeah maybe I shouldn’t have brought this up.

“I don’t think it’s actual courting, I just think someone has been giv-leaving gifts for me. Just little things that usually get seen as courting gifts. I just wanted your opinion on it father.” Simple, appeasing to his pride.

“I’m not sure which game you’re playing child, but if someone does wish to court you, then the proper way is through talking with me and allowing me to approve it. Are they a respectable male? The one leaving gifts.”

He doesn’t believe he’s respectable, but he’s more respectable than the males in camp. “What if they’re my mate? I know it’s rare, but if The Mother and Cauldron wished it, would you still accept them?”

My father stops chewing once again, as if getting tired of my questions during our usual meals. “You’ve been reading to many of those books again, haven’t you? They still need to speak with me if they wish to court you. Mating bond or not.” Okay so maybe he will accept Cassian then! “But if he is not a male of good standing, then it won’t be happening. I won’t have my child marrying some bastard, mating bond or not.” Shit.

“The books bring me joy father. Something to do once I’m done with my chores.” Entice my father with the sweet words for the females of his time, where we’re happy with doing chores. Which for me I am but still.

It wasn’t until hours later when I go meet Cass that I told him.

“How’d your father take it?” He asks, wrapping me up in his arms holding me close to him. The bond thumping along our chests, even unmated and it thrives with life.

“I chickened out… Don’t look at me like that! I asked how he’d feel if someone started courting me, and he said he wanted them to come to him to ask permission. So, I asked what if they were my mate. But he said if that was the case, even so rare it is, that he’d technically allow it, unless they weren’t in ‘good standing’.” Cass lightly pushes me slightly away from him to look at me.

“So, your father’s definitely not going to allow me to court you. My mate. I knew your father hated bastards but…” He sounds upset about the fact, which is understandable.

I look up and run a finger along the length of his nose, “You could always rescue me, be the amazing knight again and me being the maiden. Take me away to the Moonstone Palace safely tucked away.” He gets some kind of guilty look on his face at the mention of Moonstone Palace.

“Is that what you’d want? For me to take you away from your father, bring you back to my home with me?” he’s sincere in his question, and I know he’d do it in an instant.

“I wanted my father to approve. I wanted him to be okay with our relationship, with our eventual mating. To be happy for me that I was able to find a male that could care for me. Mates aren’t something that happened, let alone happen in these camps. But I’d never forgive him if he tried to keep me away from you.” And I wouldn’t. He’s my father and I’d do almost anything for him, like he’s done for me, but this is a chance at my happiness.

“I’ll see what I can do, speak with Rhys about seeing if there’s anything that can be done. If there’s a loophole.” He’s sweet and doesn’t even have to do what he plans to do. Really, he could just cut his losses and move on.

The issue was we were wrapped up in each other, we never even noticed the male watching from the shadows. So, when I awoke the next day, my bedroom door locked; I didn’t know what was to happen. Was even more shocked when I found my father in the corner of my room waiting.

“Are you fucking him?” It was all he said. Just like that my loving father was replaced with the male Lord of the camp.

“What?” No, seriously, what?

“Are you fucking that bastard?”

“Father what are you talking about? I haven’t been with anyone, you know this.” Really, all me and Cass have done is kiss. Yet that little brush of question down the bond from him makes me wonder if it could be seen as more.

“It’s been reported to me that you have been seen sneaking out. Then meeting that bastard born foot solider. So, I’ll ask you again. Are you. Fucking. That Bastard.” He’s pissed, I’m pissed that someone’s followed me to him. Because this is going to fuck over whatever plans me and Cass made.

The anger on his face makes me pull on the bond and send just the smallest rush of panic down the bond. Hopefully letting him know that somethings wrong, that I might need assistance. “Father, I don’t know what someone claims to have seen but they are wrong. You know I would never do that, compromise us like that. You’ve raised me better than that.” He didn’t necessarily raise me at all, my mother did. He just kept us alive in terms of money.

“So, the male is lying to me and your telling the truth?”

“Father, you have nothing to fear. You know I am waiting for your approval and marriage. It would be unladylike of me to not have my maidenhead before being married.” It’s not a lie, I do still have my maidenhead, but I am kind of sneaking around with Cass.

Speaking of who, responds with my earlier tug, with one of his own, and a questioning feeling down the bond. I tug back almost instantly, sending back reassurance but still a little push of panic. Hopefully getting the point across I need him.

“If that is the case you won’t care for me to go get the male and question him again. See which of you are lying.” He knows something. Either there’s actual evidence of me and Cassian sneaking around, or someone is trying to screw me. I’m not happy about either.

I just shrug in response, “I just planned on cleaning up around the house today. So, I’ll be here if you wish to ask me anymore questions.” I smiled at him kindly.

I need to figure out a way to get out of camp.

My fathers’ eyes just narrow at me, before his lip curls and he leaves the room completely. Not locking the door behind him thankfully.

It was only two hours later I heard a knock on the back door; a sharp tug following after telling me who it was. Picture my surprise when I let Cass in and the High Lord and Shadowsinger follow in behind him.

I start to try and bow but before I can even attempt to Cass pulls me into a hug. “What’s going on?”

I push back lightly, “Someone saw us the other night. When we met and talked about leaving. Someone had followed. Father thinks we’ve…” I stop, and glance at the other two before finishing.

The High Lord leans against the wall, the Shadowsinger joining him, “So he thinks you’ve slept with him and thus are basically worthless in terms of any marriage deals.”

My face rushes to a heated tint, and Cassian growls in response, “Rhys.” It’s a simple command he makes. Don’t speak about my maidenhead so casually.

“Do you know who the male was that reported seeing you guys?” It’s the Shadowsinger that speaks now.

I shake my head, “No, he locked me in my room, waited for me to wake then basically came and interrogated me. Just said someone reported to him that they watched me ‘sneak out’ then followed me and saw me meet up with Cass.”

He shares glances with the Lord and Cass, before Cass asks, “How pissed is he?”

“Well, I can almost guarantee that when he comes back later after questioning that male again it won’t be a happy dinner.”

Cassian runs a quick hand down his face, and it makes me feel bad that I’m putting him through this stress. As if noticing my feelings, the High Lord speaks.

“Devlon would be pissed no matter what. The Cauldron themselves could be your mate and he’d be upset. It does slightly complicate things, but this is an easy issue to solve.”

“Rhys. Don’t insinuate my mate is an issue.”

“Not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Az do you think you’d be able to intercept Devlon before he finds out to much information?” Cass asks, and before I can tell them it’s likely to late, he’s gone. Shadows hiding him away taking him… somewhere.

“Y/N, do you want to stay and see what happens or would you like to pack some stuff to leave?” The High Lord—Rhys, I guess is what I should call him now. Cass has told me enough about him I feel it’d be appropriate.

“Do you think it’s needed?” I don’t want to leave my home. It’s the home I was born and raised in, the home my mother lived and died in. The home I learned my purpose of life in.

Cassian answers instead, “Me and my brothers were talking. The three of us think it may be safer if you come with us. But… I’ll leave you with the option. The choice to see how your father reacts. We just think it’ll be safer if you come with us at the end of the day. We… we don’t know what Devlon will do once finding out we’re mates.”

I must look sad about that because Cass brings me closer, if possible, and his wings just slightly curl towards me. “He wouldn’t hurt me. He might be some type of monster but he’s still my father.”

Rhys answers for Cass, “It’s not that we think he’d intentionally hurt you, but he said it himself, he wouldn’t marry you to your mate if it wasn’t a… good match. But it wouldn’t be a happy life if you stayed. I know it’s a big ask, this is your home, all you’ve known. But I also know Cassian would be a lot happier if you were with him. Safe.”

Closing my eyes, I sigh because I know they’re right. I’d be happier in the long run with him. “I’ll go pack some things. Should I wait or just leave a note?” My voice is solemn.

Cassian and Rhys look at one another, but Cass answers, “I’d leave a note for now. We can always come back if you want to see if he’d like to make amends.”

And so, I do, I leave a simple note apologizing. Telling him that I was in fact still a maiden, even if he thinks I’m not. Tell him that Cass is my mate, and I couldn’t have a higher-ranking male as my husband. If he wishes to speak with me, he can send letters.

Other than that, I take my most prized possessions. Some of my mother’s jewelry, books, a few more odds and in’s I’ve collected in my few hundred years of living.

Then we left. So, I can be happy with my mate, and his family.

Author's Note:

This was going to be 5.6k words but last night I felt it needed just a little more angst because we all know Devlon would be pissed.

Like, comment, share/reblog.

dividers came from @firefly-graphics

DO NOT REPOST. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR THIS TO BE POSTED TO ANY OTHER SITE.

[lelengerine]

call you mine

✿ pairing |  haechan x reader

✿ synopsis | sometimes, love letters might just be the way to get someone to like you (or maybe it’s because they’ve liked you for the entire time).

✿ genre | kinda tooth-rotting fluff at some points, a little bit of childhood friends to lovers, also pretty cliché so bear w me here

✿ wc | 1.4k

✿ notes | hello! this is a sequel to sincerely, yours and i highly suggest reading that first but this can also be read as a stand alone fic too hehe <3 ngl i kinda got carried away writing this ;0; as always,, lmk ur thoughts on this one :D

m.list

if you’d ask him, haechan wouldn’t know how long he’s been staring at the mirror, picking out clothes from his closet before tossing them into the far corners of his room. 

each second passes by and the more his irritation grows from the fact nothing seems to be just right. he knows he’s just going for a casual trip with you, and that’s all it’ll ever be, but the back of his mind itches at the thought of being with you for a couple of days straight.

sure, you’ve seen him wear all sorts of things back from when the two of you were little. the first time you met, he was sporting a shinchan shirt in the brightest green you’d ever seen. he even used to wear this one jacket that’s seen it’s fair share of days (correction, he still does), and you’ve always complimented how much it suits him. 

you’d honestly be the last person to care about what he’d show up in, and yet, he wants to look the best for you. he doesn’t know why this is exactly the case, but he’s never questioned it too much to care either.

haechan then pulls up a purple hoodie littered with embroidered patches from his closet by the hanger, recognizing it almost immediately. not because it’s an item he’s worn so often, but because you borrowed it more than once before. he still remembers how the fabric would completely engulf your figure, obviously being too big on you. though, you always tell him that’s exactly what you prefer.

he always thought you looked cute in it anyways.

carefully folding it up, haechan packs it into his small suitcase — the hoodie now being the first piece of clothing that rests inside. 

checking the clock, he doesn’t have much time left before needing to pick you up and painstakingly tries to gather all the things he needs to bring for the trip, rushing with you in mind. this trip would be marked as the first time you would travel together. well, more like the first trip without your parents coming along since they deem you’re both old enough to not get into stupid situations. at least, that’s what they wanted to assume from the both of you.

okay, so maybe he should be a little more nervous than he is. whatever, the jitters will come hit him straight in the face soon enough when he least expects it.

he finishes stuffing his suitcase full of items, albeit a bit sloppily and not at all like he originally planned for, but it’ll have to do. he’d rather have a messy bag filled to the brim with wrinkly clothes that might not even be fit for the weather than be late to the time you both agreed he’d pick you up on.

-x-

haechan soon arrives at the front of your doorstep pretty much on the dot, hand instinctively reaching into the pocket of his jeans to pull out a replica key with a mini teddy bear charm dangling from it. you gave it to him for when he ever wanted to spontaneously visit you and it’s something he treasures dearly, knowing it symbolizes the trust you place in him.

eagerly, he rushes up to your room, assuming you’re still inside. “y/n- are you ready to go?” he questions, sounding a little flustered to see the area empty. it isn't like you to leave your room unattended. did something happen-

“i’m in the bathroom! i’ll be out soon.” he hears you yell out soon after, placing his heart at ease. 

“oh thank god,” he mumbles softly, not knowing what he’d do if you were gone.

he takes the time to look around your room, noting how practically nothing has changed since he last visited when he was much younger. there are still glow in the dark stars that vaguely shine on your ceiling, ones he helped you stick because you couldn’t reach the ceiling even with the height offered by your bed. hell, even the wooden cabinet you use hasn’t changed for the past years and is kept in good condition thanks to your care.

it’s like he’s reminiscing everything he’s known about you all at once. every little detail only he knows as your best friend.

there is, however, one small thing that sticks out of place in his eyes. a small, well-kept box rests below your desk, one he’s never seen before nor heard you talk about. 

he believed you always told him about everything that went on in your life, so why hasn’t he known about this? perhaps he had been mistaken all along.

the thought can’t help but form the start of a crack on the notion of him being your best friend. maybe someone else had already taken that spot away from him right under his nose and he had realized just a bit too late. 

he didn’t want to be the person who would limit you to who you make friends with, quite the opposite actually, but jealousy serves to be a weakness in him – slowly seeping into his mind and clogging his train of thought. he could only wish he wasn’t feeling this way right now.

it's that same jealousy that urges him to pick up the box, crouch down and quickly take the lid off. there, he finds the dainty envelopes stored away with utmost care and attention to detail.

each one is signed with ‘sincerely, yours’ written at the bottom left in a perfectly executed cursive font, and that’s when he realizes they’re letters written with someone in mind.

he sighs, returning back to the times you’d nag him to learn lettering with you. he would never take the lessons seriously, but you always did. so this was why you wanted to learn how to write so prettily, he quickly assumes. 

his heart grows heavier the more he rummages through the box, the realization of the envelopes being love letters sinking in slowly but surely into his soul.

you like someone, he thought to himself.

so it wasn’t even someone stealing his title of best friend. it was someone who had stolen your heart. that someone was the person he yearned to be for so long, and now, it was never going to be him seeing as you’ve even committed to writing down letters. 

since when did you even write letters? haechan scoffs to himself bitterly at the thought.

“hyuck, i’m done. we should get-“ you come out of the bathroom unannounced, not even giving him a chance to gather his thoughts. “…going.”

he probably caught you just as off guard, judging by the way your shoulders stiffened up and your line of sight instantly focused on the letters that now rest in the palms of his hands. he already pieced together the fact he was never supposed to know about this, much less rummage through your things without consent. 

what was he even going to tell you? surely he could not get himself out of this situation with an excuse after being caught like a raccoon searching for scraps in the neighbor’s trash can at night. instead, haechan does the next best thing he could think of.

“…y/n? what are these?” well, to be fair, he never said his idea wasn’t outright stupid.

truthfully, he doesn’t know whether asking you directly was the right thing to do. yes, he knows he’s the one at fault in this situation, yet this was the only way he could hear a proper answer from you. 

he just wanted to pull the bandaid off his heart and accept the fact you have feelings for someone else. any form of hatred you throw his way after all this, he will gladly accept.

with a deep breath, you finally answer him with “they’re… sincerely yours.”

and for the second time today, haechan’s brain goes blank. did you just say all those letters were for him? no, he probably interpreted your words incorrectly. 

“mine?” he utters out moments later, voice still laced with confusion.

you sheepishly nod your head along to his words, further confirming what he had originally perceived about those letters were oh so wrong. his heart that was once sinking was slowly coming back above the tide, meeting the bright, blue sky. 

his lips curl upwards into a smile unbeknownst to him, however, you’re quick to notice – taking that as a sign your feelings may have not been so one-sided after all.

“can i… read them?” haechan looks at you with stars in his eyes and you wonder if that’s a reflection of the glow in the dark stars that decorate your room’s ceiling or if it's just him glistening under the sunlight that barely manages to shine into your room.

just how could you decline when he’s acts like this in front of you?

“after our trip?” you propose, “at least you’ll have something to look forward to when we get back.”

“okay, but does that mean i get to call you mine?”

now you’re the one flustered, heat creeping up to the apples of your cheeks. just how much did his confidence surge knowing the letters were for him? “i don’t know- i mean, you haven't asked me out yet.”

“oh baby, you genuinely don't know how long i’ve waited for this moment.”

[sp0o0kylights]

oho? I love playing with character perceptions, so number 11 got my immediate interest!

AND THE LAST ASK for real thank you for sending in so many and another thank you to anyone who sent in any ask at all this was a blast:

Turns out this connected to a different document. I desperately need to clean out my drive ANWAY

11! "A large part of the Steve Harrington lore was that he left his throne, his popularity, childhood best friends, behind for Nancy Wheeler. This was a lie."

Snippet:

A thump as the object rolled out of its bag and onto the floor.

It was a wooden baseball bat, same as one might find anywhere--with one noticeable difference.

"Steve." Eddie said simply, eyes raking over the haphazardly hammered nails, some of which were bent from use, "What the hell is this?" 

Steve at least, had the good graces to look abashed. "Ahhh…" He said, trailing off as he clearly fished for anything other than the truth and came up empty. "A nailbat?"

Spoken out loud it even sounded like a fucking fantasy weapon.

"Is that blood all over it?" Eddie asked, tone amazingly even given the panic that galloped wildly through his chest. 

The fucking thing wasn't entirely covered but there was unmistakable red and black splatter that was either the product of the world's best prop artist, or the real deal.

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't think any of the blood is human." Steve said, who overall looked more embarrassed than anything.

Like Eddie has found his porno mags, and not whatever the hell this was. 

"No Steve, that does not make me feel better." Eddie managed to get out, the words a little strangled. "You don't think the blood's human? What the hell do you think it is!?"

Because he had to know. There was no way he could not know, with a literal McGuffin, sitting in between them.  

In fact this entire set up felt like something right of of a D&D scene and once Eddie was done panicking, he kinda wanted to write down a few notes. 

There was a very long, dedicated pause, where once again it became very clear Steve was racking his brain for a lie. 

Eddie let it go on, because he wanted to hear what possible excuse the guy could come up for this. 

Particularly given that Eddie had once shared an English class with him. Steve Harrington was about as imaginative as a child's first chapter book (and frankly, the book probably knew more words.)

"Rabid dogs?" Steve said, sounding more like he was guessing than anything else.  

How he had gotten away with lying to the cops about those house parties of his was a downright mystery.

"Rabid dogs that just might be human." Eddie deadpanned. 

Steve winced.

"I might have swung it at a few people." He admitted.

"No shit." Eddie said, staring at him flatly. It almost felt like he was two people for a moment--a perfectly calm one, demanding answers out of a nervous and clearly spooked Steve Harrington like disappointed mother discovering a baggie of weed--and a person who wanted to fucking book it, immediately.

Before Harrington lost his shit and started swinging the nailbat at him. 

There was no reason for King Steve, richest boy in town and previously its most popular (though given Hargroves penchant for violence, Eddie didn't doubt a lot of people would accept Steve back with open arms so long as the guy stood in between them) to own a clearly used homemade weapon. 

"Okay look, you've caught me in a lot of lies and I'm gonna be real with you, this one came with an NDA." Steve said finally, like that wasn't a wild string of words. "The less you know about it, the better."

And that, Eddie could agree with.

[melrosing]

Ok speaking of changes GOT made… is there any changes you like? I struggle to find big moments, but there are small additions I love. Like Ned praying before he dies, Robb hitting the tree when he finds out, the chemistry that Kit Harrington and Rose Leslie have…. But there are very few structural changes I think improve the story.

hmmm so I can't lie there is a LOT I just don't remember anymore about the show, so wringing my mind a little to come up with something.....

I won't mention things that I think were adapted well (like Ned's execution) as those aren't adaptational changes. and I also won't mention things that I like the idea of (e.g. Jaime's dyslexia) but not the execution (they made out it was part of the longrunning 'stupidest Lannister' joke).

and like.... well I'm stuck already lmao?? I'm not even trying to shit on the show I just feel like it was a consistent exercise in either understating GRRM's work or butchering it entirely. so I can think of only a few things:

I can't find the link to where I talked about this at length but the scene in which Jaime and Ned duel in the streets of KL was a good one imo. I think it was more in character for Jaime to just recklessly fight Ned himself, and a neat parallel to what I suspect will happen between Ned, Arthur and Howland - in that when Ned is attacked from behind by one of Jaime's men in the midst of their fight, Jaime angrily ends the duel bc his man has essentially dishonoured it. I think Ned's fight with Arthur will end as it did in the show (with Howland stabbing Arthur from behind and Ned finishing the job, bc he needs to reach Lyanna), and this is like a parallel to show Jaime and Ned have the same principles, yet each have broken them in times of desperation. My personal theory is that this was a change GRRM recommended - the parallel seems notable to me, and not one that would've even occurred to D&D, esp. given they never gave any particular shit about Jaime's story. And this may sound spurious but I recall that GRRM remembers in an interview, saying the weather was different in the show version of the scene than in the books.... which makes me think he was maybe onset for this one, possibly because of the rewrite??

I'm v much in favour of ageing up the youngest characters. My ideal starting ages for the youngest characters in AGOT would've been Jon/Robb/Dany - 18, Joffrey/Sansa - 14, Arya - 12, Bran - 10. To me they all feel much too young for the roles they play in the story, and it occasionally kills my suspension of disbelief

I way prefer the book’s version of the Red Wedding but I do feel like Catelyn's single cry of despair works better than the book's manic laughter. maybe the laughter was a more vivid image for the books idk

I do actually like how we see Robb's grief onscreen it's very movingly played by Richard Madden. I also love Catelyn's expressions as Robb rides back from the Whispering Wood, like both these scenes are great reminders of their mother/son relationship in a setting where they aren't really allowed to be just that. and like just Michelle Fairley tbh I really like her work as Catelyn even though I don't like how the character was adapted more generally

Breaking the 'concept but not execution' rule just to say I think it was definitely a good idea to explore the High Sparrow as this weirdly charismatic figure so we can see how others might be taken in by him, even whilst we see the extremes of his faith. but that subplot was not executed well at all so fuck it

Yeah I agree that Jon and Ygritte having a slightly more charged romance also works. In the books Ygritte comes and goes quite quickly and I think there is something to be said for lending a bit more gravity to that relationship. I don't think they necessarily had to be the grand romance that the show makes them out to be but I didn't hate it

I might be forgetting other things that worked because some seasons I haven't seen since like 2015, but honestly it just doesn't work for me as an adaptation. things I liked in the show before reading the books feel completely naff in hindsight, knowing how they were supposed to play out, so..... eh

[yandere-daze]

Hello~! How are you? Congrats on reaching 3K followers, It been a wonderful ride watching you grow this much~! I hope you've been taking care of yourself during these times, drink water and sleep well, alright?

I have a silly request if you're alright with it. May I get Yan. Enstars headcanons (or just thoughts) of Madara and Yuzuru pursuing the same person? This was just a one-off thought I had because Madara and Yuzuru share the homescreen and -compared to being paired with others- rarely have lines where they are upset. They are imo similar to eachother with their caring nature and despite their very big differences would work well together after a while. Whether this is Self-Aware AU or just the general Yandere AU depends on you and how you think this works best! Congrats again on 3k! I'm so happy for my favorite Enstars writer to have grown this far! Love you and take care~!

Hi, I´ve been doing fine thank you for asking! Favorite enstars writer?🥺 That´s so sweet of you to say, thank you so much!!😭💕

Both Yuzuru and Madara are pretty interesting characters, I need to read up more about them honestly, but I hope you enjoy this nonetheless!

gn reader

tw yandere, obsession, possessiveness, mentioned violence and implied murder, implied kidnapping near the end

Yandere! Yuzuru and Madara pursuing the same darling

I think this is actually a really interesting duo of yanderes and one I haven´t thought of before? But it kind of makes sense in the way that I think they would be pretty similar as a yandere, in the general sense, so I actually agree with you there!

Both of them are very caring and devoted around their darling, wishing to fulfill every single one of your wishes without any reservations but can very quickly turn violent and cruel toward anyone they deem a threat to either your safety or your relationship

Yuzuru with his background in the military can be very terrifying and so is Madara. Doesn´t he outright say somewhere that his number 1 way to solve things is through violence? Honestly, I´d hate to be the person that has to deal with their wrath, you most likely wouldn´t live to see another day

I think both of them would be pretty quick to figure out that they aren´t the only one after your heart and I just know that all of their interactions with each other would get so tense. They´re both smiling when they´re with you but they still let passive-aggressive comments toward the other slip from time to time

They don´t want to worry you too much but you can definitely feel the animosity between them as they almost fight over who gets to take care of you

Yuzuru is a butler, he has spent his entire life serving people so isn´t he the most suitable person to be taking care of you? He already knows all of your preferences when it comes to food and he has taken the time to perfect every single one of your favorite dishes so he can make them exactly to your liking. It would be an honor if you would let him serve you

Madara meanwhile tells you that Yuzuru is way too uptight to stay around for so long. Wouldn´t it be much more fun to go on a trip with him and explore the city for the perfect restaurant to try out? It would almost be like a little date between you two~

Ah, no need to answer! Madara is already moving to pick you up and sprint away as Yuzuru´s smile looks more and more strained by the second, his voice sounding outright murderous as he tells Madara to stop touching his master

Just when did you become his master, exactly? Well, there are probably better things to be worried about when it looks like they might kill each other any second now

Them actually working together instead of fighting to win your heart would be pretty difficult to achieve, I think. More than anything, they both want to be the most important person in your life and the one to be taking care of you. They want to make sure you always stay happy and healthy and no one else is better suited for that than them, in their minds at least

After all, who else could tend to you but the person that loves you to the point of dangerous obsession? Who but the person who has dedicated their entire life to you? They´re both eternally grateful for pulling them out of their dark past and giving them this chance to redeem themselves, to do some good, that they simply can´t leave your fate up to anyone else

And this fact is both their greatest source of conflict and a way for both of them to see eye-to-eye. They understand each other better than one might think, or more than they would ever admit

They both want to keep you safe under any circumstances and so I think the one and only way for them to set aside their rivalry and work together is for you to actually be in great danger and needing both of them to get you back to safety

They´d rather save you on their own but they can´t be too selfish when something more important is on the line. So they decide to work together to get you back to safety and they honestly work together scarily well

They´re both more than willing to get violent if it concerns you and so they remove any and all obstacles in the way until you´re finally safe in their arms once again

And maybe, just maybe, they might both come to realize that working together might be necessary to keep you safe for all of eternity

So please don´t be scared, they´re both going to take great care of you from now on! <3

[not-so-lost-after-all]

Just saw a video of what happens if Astarion speaks to the Gur folk in Act 3 alone. The dialogue is fully voiced, a cutscene where we don't even pick any options for Astarion to respond - he says everything himself. Long story short, he agrees to save the children. Of course, he adds that they might be dead because he knows Cazador, but still...Astarion, who used to be allergic to Tav playing the hero throughout the entire Act 1, doesn't back away from the request to enter his tormentor's lair, to basically be a bait just so the Gur (people he dislikes and associates with the beginning of his painful existence) could get a shot at rescuing or avenging their children. Moreover, he doesn't even give a practiced, deceiving speech (like the one he gives in the camp after his vampire reveal) to falsely assure the Gur of his full compliance and feed them promises he isn't going to keep. No, when he answers, his voice is shaking. He sounds like he is holding back tears when he says "If I can help them...". Then he collects himself and continues "...I will" in a calmer tone.

It proves my previous theory that Astarion either has a soft spot for kids or hasn't become scarred to the point of completely blocking out a very natural response to violence against children. Many people may not like kids or want to have kids, but would still see red when confronting a child abuser or molester.

This is something he feels guilty about. This is something that hurts him. The thought of the children quite likely being beyond saving (and him not being able to do anything about it) hurts him. Of course, with Tav around, Tav gets to do all the talking, and Astarion gets to keep everything he feels to himself and deflect the horror of the situation with gallows humor. But without Tav to back him up and make decisions, this is how he acts: not running away from the confrontation with people he wronged (not of his own volition), being sincere and regretful.

I remember your version about Astarion having a younger sibling (and having to hurt them by Cazador's orders). It's a nice idea, but I think that if that was the case, his response to child violence would have been even stronger, absolutely visceral, similar to the way he reacts whenever something attempts to mind control him (as proven by his reaction after snapping out of the harpies' song or experiencing myconid spores). But I do believe he would have been a great big brother (or even a wonderful parent) if Cazador was never there to destroy his life and twist all concepts of love and family.

Hello Nonnie :) I've seen it too. He's genuine and it's significant he shows any empathy at all. But remember he's going to confront Cazador anyway. He's hellbent on hijacking Cazador's ritual and this promise doesn't go against it. And yes, I'm aware that I'm stretching here. If he was sent to kill his family (as a rite of passage, same as his "siblings"), it would be his worst memory and we know his worst memory is being locked in a tomb for a year. Cazador could have wiped that memory, I suppose, but why would he do that. It's still nice angsty thought. I would love to learn what happened to his family since they probably were influential enough to obtain a position for their extremely young son, as I said earlier. P.S. He would be that kind of dad or big brother who lets the kid sip alcohol :D

[br1ghtestlight]

getting war flashbacks to the bobs burgers fanfic where louise is doing math homework in the restaurant when nobody else is around and then bob has a heart attack </3 that shit was TRAUMATIZING

love linda shouting four whenever there's a math problem or anything related to numbers. best recurring joke. FOUR!!!!

you can do it gene :D also im so bad at math I 100% would not be able to help either. dumbass rep family

bob trying to help gene with his homework is cute. even if he is Not very good at it. he wants to be an involved dad :(

gene im not gonna lie that math question has gotta be fucking with you. rhat is not a real question. i could NEVER do that not if i was given 100 hours that shit is fake

see this is where when I was in math class i would just write a random number and move on bcuz im never gonna figure it out anyway im not gonna waste time. so that's my advice gene. just Give Up

he says "maybe your mom or tina could get you started" because they're older but I genuinely think louise has a better chance of helping bcuz she is so smart. if she'd WANT to help is another question entirely

because I'm stuck in a safe 😐

AND THEN HE BLINDFOLDED ME ON THE WAY HERE??? HE BLINDFOLDED YOU??????

teddy I think his guy is gonna murder you im gonna be so real right now

unfortunately im kinda following teddy's logic now like. it isnt like fischoeder isn't doing this type of shit everyday just for fun. rich guys are just like that BUT getting their money is nice

"gene was doing homework?? that's new"

WE'RE NOT ALL ECONOMICALLY COMFORTABLE LIKE YOU ARE

"Why did you tell me the whole long story about the sandwich in the drawer if you're running out of battery LOCKED IN A SAFE??" "Context!!!!"

also bob and teddy have such great comedic chemistry lmao they bounce off each other so naturally

louise isn't lying she Does have a certain set of skills 😭 if anyone could find him it WOULD be her the lockpicking genius nine year old supervillain

miss you. see you soon. gotta go!!

has he gotten a new cellphone since that MIDDLE OF THE DAY AND YOUR PHONE IS AT 23% argument or is it that same shitty 2008 blackberry phone that dies almost immediately lmfao

bob is a real one for doing this bullshit for teddy he did NOT have to. they're ride or die fr

I'm not entirely unconvinced that gerald isnt a serial killer but thats okay <3 men can have hobbies

also I'm choosing to believe this gerald is the same one from the taxes/weed cookie episode even though it ABSOLUTELY is not bcuz i think that would be funny. by day he's a regular tax agent by night he is a creepy rich kidnapper who pulls mind games on all his handymen

OH I FORGOT THE SUBPLOT FOR THIS EPISODE IS ABOUT SPORTS PEOPLE why did they do the whole thing with gene's homework then.... are they connected. what is the gameplan

WE PICK A NEW LOVER FOR MOM

i love how bob is apparently the only thing keeping his family from going completely off the fucking rails like. he's the only thing standing between his family and their restaurant burning down with everyone inside fr

your dad never loved that dream :/ because he's a hater :/ AND SO JEALOUS :/

you're not gonna break the world record. another hater. STOP THAT

I might be having a panic attack 💔 I CANT TELL BECAUSE IVE NEVER HAD ONE BEFORE OR IM ALWAYS HAVING ONE soo real teddy

WE LOST HIM 😭😭💔

aww I love them all wearing their lil aprons <3 (crappy photo of my tablet bcuz the app im using to watch this episode doesn't allow screenshots)

SAY SOMETHING SMART LIKE UHH HOW WOULD YOU FLIP A GIANT BURGER. OH GOD THEY DIDNT MAKE THE GIANT BURGER DID THEY. WHO WOULD EVEN AGREE TO EAT THAT. AN OVER FOURTY CO-ED BASKETBALL TEAM. REALLY 😯

sorry this episode has so many good ooc quotes FJDMDJSKSKKM

gene STOP calling him father

bob is being like a whole ass detective meanwhile linda and the kids are currently making The Worst Decisions Ever

h jon benjiman is doing such a good job voicing bob in this episode idk it has so much personality and sounds natural. or it's always like this and im just now appreciating it but either way A+ work

cute bob and teddy moment ❤️❤️

(ignore the awful camera quality. nothing I can do there) also love the fact that teddy can easily lift up and manhandle bob. Good to know

there's so much going on w/ this gerald guy I dont even know WHERE to begin. what a guy. wow

this is so cute and sweet im so happy!!! YOU DOUBLE FAKE WALLED HIM :D YOU SMART SMARTIE. YOURE A GENIUS BOB

"I knew I asked the right person to come help me. Yeah. Mort wouldn't answer."

"What? You called Mort first?"

"No..."

HE ASKED MORT???? LMFAO big win for tedmort shippers. I fucking guess

MORT NEVER DOUBLE FAKE WALLED ANYONE why is bob like genuinely jealous of mort and teddy right now 😭 chill out man you've got a wife at home

"let's just say it's twelve" FINALLY bob follows my very smart advice when it comes to math homework smh

ALSO THIS IS TECHNICALLY THE FIRST TIME WE'VE SEEN THEM EATING BOBS BURGERS FOR DINNER OR IN GENERAL!!! I mean it's a giant hamburger loaf but it technically was served at bob's burgers so it counts

GIANT FRENCH FRIES

aww this episode was so fun and cute!! I love the more adventure-y type episodes where they explore a new location so this episode was great and very stressful lmao. also very funny. I love bob and teddy's dynamic/back and forth throughout the episode and the weird mort mention at the end felt like they were soft launching his and teddy's relationship even though I KNOW they aren't actually. mort could replace kathleen if we believe. very solid 8/10 episode :)

[ordiichai]

Some aimless rambling abt my genderfluid Sebastian hc

So this is an idea that i, surprisingly, haven’t seen explored before and i think that is sad. Therefore, i am taking up that responsibility and writing an entire ass essay about this idea that i have.

A few disclaimers:

1: i have no outline for this and am kind of just writing whatever comes into my head, so please forgive any tangents or just general gay nonsense.

2: i am not caught up on the manga, so this is based mainly off of the anime, the small bit of the manga i have read (vol 1-5), my general knowledge of the series, and small tidbits of the story that I’ve picked up from various sources

3: I am counting all of Black Butler as part of the same story. I know there are people who only use the manga canon when analysing Black Butler, but I prefer to assume that if something is true in, for example, season 1 it will be true in season 3. So if ur manga-only or just one of those ppl who hate everything about the anime, you might wanna leave

Enjoy!

So I’ve basically had this idea ever since i saw this manga panel

Honestly, when i look at this image, all i can think of is my intense gender envy for this guy AND how genderqueer it is. And that is for multiple reasons. One being that, in general, shapeshifter characters are often coded genderfluid due to the simple fact that they can turn into anything, and that would clearly include another gender. One notable example of this being Nimona. A character that, similarly to Sebastian, normally takes a single human form. But they also occasionally take the forms of different people or even animals. I’m not sure if it’s fully canon, but it’s pretty much agreed that Nimona is genderfluid.

Another reason is that fucking text. “I am no one, yet i can become anyone” you mean you can become a woman 🤨? Ayo? In all seriousness though, that is a very genderqueer thing to say. The idea of “being no one” sounds very non-binary in its own right, but pair that with the "becoming anyone" line, there is a very clear parrallel to the idea of being genderfluid or non-binary.

Sebastian is also just super queer-coded in general. Always going on about his "aesthetic" and have y'all seen those fucking high heels? He is shown to be not tradtionally masculine, what with his long and unkempt hair, black nails (i know it's implied that that just happens when demons take a human form, but i like to imagine they all just paint their nails bc it looks cool), and occupation with fashion and his looks. He has an interesting tendancy to flirt with literally everyone he talks to, including multiple men.

Overall, he is a very genderbending character. He is very effeminate, wears the pointest high heels known to man in his demon form, and is generally very queer coded. Although we aren't really given much info on demon lore, especially when it comes to things like gender, but we do know that angels have the ability to shift from a male body to a female one in a matter of seconds. Ash Landers is another character that I beleive to be at least very coded genderfluid. He has to ability to just...become a woman on a whim and also seems to hate the idea of binary gender. He describes man's separation by gender as the genisis of evil, for god's sake. It is fair to assume that demons live by the same rules.

That is all for now, I may post another one of these later on in time, either about the same topic, or about a different one. Thanks for putting up with my nonsense and I hope you enjoyed :D

In conclusion,

[pinkfadespirit]

Prompt: Spin the Bottle for any characters :D :D :D

I really had to dig through my prompts to find this one! Sorry it's taken so long to answer. I had a lot of fun working on this so thank you for sending it!

2372 words. Anders/Male Hawke is the main pairing but everyone is kissing everyone here, or almost everyone. There's a brief description of an accidental injury involving broken glass but it doesn't go into any real detail.

for @dadrunkwriting

"Do you not think this is a little juvenile?" said Anders as he stared at the bottle on the carpet in the centre of Hawke's living room. He couldn't quite keep himself from casting a nervous look at Hawke, then glancing away just as quickly. He doubted he was fooling anyone about what had really been on his mind since Isabela had suggested the game, but he figured he could at least try to be less obvious about it.

"What sort of question is that?" Isabela scoffed. "Juvenile... I'm sorry. I'd forgotten you were allergic to fun."

"I'm not allergic to fun." Anders bristled and tried not to look at Hawke again. "I just... You know, apprentices play this game in the Circle—at least until a templar comes along and sends them all back into their own bunks. My point is, it's for kids."

"Well, not everyone can say the same. Merrill never played it." Anders supposed that must be the reason they were all being subjected to it now. Isabela never missed an opportunity to indulge any of Merrill's whims. 

"I've never played it, either," said Hawke, giving Anders a real excuse to look at him at last. His expression was eager and when he caught Anders' eye, he wiggled his eyebrows in a suggestive way that Anders was intent on ignoring. Maker help him... this was the last thing he needed.

Not that he could entirely help that little stirring of hope inside him at the possibility that they might get matched. After all, it was just a game; a chance to have the very thing he'd been thinking about for years without it having to mean anything. The problem was how little he'd be able to keep himself from wanting it to mean something. But given how he lived with that feeling constantly, it hardly seemed to matter.

"Really?" Merrill was asking. "But you always seem like the kind of person who's tried everything."

"Hardly," Hawke laughed. "Living as an apostate doesn't give much opportunity for making large groups of friends. Most of my company growing up came from the twins and I wasn't exactly trying this sort of thing with them."

"Hmm I suppose that makes sense. Then I'm glad we're friends now, so we can both try these sorts of games." Merrill looked so cheerful at the thought, it was quite a contrast to how Anders was feeling, or how Fenris and Aveline both looked. He was surprised either of them had gone along with it. Surely he couldn't be the only person who objected.

Not that he particularly wanted to keep objecting now that he knew Hawke wanted to try it too. And since no one else was bothering to speak up, he supposed they really were doing this.

"Could you explain the rules again?" said Merrill.

"It's simple, Kitten," Isabela obliged. "You spin the bottle while everyone sits in a circle around it, and whoever it points to, you have to kiss. If anyone refuses, they have to do a forfeit, like telling us a secret, or downing their drink or something like that."

Merrill's expression was bright and eager. "You're right, that does sound simple."

"Then who wants to go first? Shall I?" Isabela's eyes gleamed and Anders couldn't keep from rolling his. Of course Isabela would love this game.

She leaned in, reaching for the empty wine bottle and with a flick of her wrist, set it spinning on its side. 

Round and round it went for several seconds and the group braced themselves as it began to slow. When finally it came to a stop, all eyes trailed from the mouth of the bottle and along the carpeted floor to find it directly pointing at Aveline. 

Aveline sighed. "Remind me why I agreed to this again."

Isabela just grinned. "Pucker up, Big Girl!"

Aveline just sat there, looking resigned to her fate as Isabela crossed the small circle on her hands and knees and kissed her square on the mouth. To be fair, it was far more restrained than Anders had expected from Isabela. Perhaps she just knew how likely she was to end up with a smack if she took it any further than a brief but firm kiss on the lips.

"And that's how it's done," Isabela said to Merrill. 

Merrill seemed fascinated. "Should I go next then?"

She took her turn spinning the bottle and Anders couldn't quite believe it when it landed on Isabela. Merrill looked delighted. "I suppose I'll have to kiss you now." 

There was no need for either of them to move since they were sitting next to one another. Merrill leaned in and pressed her lips against Isabela's, soft at first, and then they seemed to get a bit carried away. Anders glanced around the circle to see what the others made of this. Hawke was grinning, and brought his fingers to his lips to let out a wolf whistle. Aveline, if anything, looked relieved, like she was amazed she got away with the brief kiss Isabela had given her. Fenris appeared slightly apprehensive, though it was difficult to make out from his usual displeased expression. Varric simply looked entertained by it all. 

It was Hawke's turn next. Anders tried to ignore that half hopeful, half apprehensive feeling as he watched it spin, before it disappeared into a rather more difficult to ignore disappointment as it landed on Varric. Hawke, at least, seemed pleased with this result. "Finally some action!" he cheered, already reaching for Varric. "Come here you!" 

"Not on the lips, Hawke!" Varric protested weakly, as Hawke wrapped a bulky pair of arms around him and didn't seem to care much where his lips landed. "Mmmwah!" 

Next it was Anders' turn. There was no point in pretending he didn't hope it would land on Hawke. Even if he did want it a bit more than was probably appropriate for a lighthearted game like this. He reached out and spun and his heart sank as it landed pointing directly at Fenris. 

"No," said Fenris bluntly, at the same time that Anders let out, "You've got to be kidding me!"

"Oh, come on!" said Isabela. "This is exactly what we've all been waiting for."

"Then you will have to learn to live with the disappointment," said Fenris drily and, honestly, Anders had to appreciate him being firm enough that he barely had to bother protesting himself. 

"Does that mean they have to do a forfeit?" asked Merrill. 

"A truth from each of you, then," Isabela instructed.

 "Pass," said Fenris. Anders wondered why he'd even agreed to play if he was going to be like that. Not that he particularly relished the idea of having a truth forced out of him either. It would be the last thing he wanted to admit, no doubt. 

"I don't suppose I can convince you to take off your shirt? Oh, alright then—drink!"

Fenris tipped his head back and finished the contents of his glass. Isabela looked disappointed, at least until she turned to Anders and smirked as she held up her own bottle of rum. Between that and sitting here in his smallclothes, Anders decided he'd prefer the rum. Justice might not like it but one night was hardly going to hurt him. He took a decent gulp before handing the bottle back to Isabela.  

Next up was Varric, who received a rather more chaste kiss on the cheek from Merrill than the one she'd given to Isabela, then he got another from Fenris, who rolled his eyes before applying the briefest touch of his lips to the top of his head. 

The next forfeit came when Aveline's spin landed on Hawke. He seemed rather put out when she refused him, saying she’d prefer not to be tackled to the floor and smothered by him. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” Hawke insisted but Aveline decided she’d rather have the rest of her pint. Anders watched, unable to help but feel a little impressed as she gulped the whole thing down.

“Think I needed that if I’m going to put up with you lot for the rest of the night.”

Isabela winked at her. “You know you love us, really.” Anders wondered if she was pleased that she’d got a kiss while Hawke hadn’t.

Anders received his first kiss of the night with Isabela’s next spin. He couldn’t help the way his face heated up at the first brush of lips against his own he’d felt in years. He’d missed it more than he really wanted to admit and for all his earlier complaints, he didn’t protest when Isabela pushed the kiss quite a bit further than the relatively chaste one she’d shared with Aveline. He chanced a glance at Hawke after, who looked away quickly when their eyes met.

Round they went again, and every time Anders or Hawke took a turn, Anders couldn’t help but hope the bottle would land on one of them. He didn’t bother to deny it to himself anymore. If everyone was going to be kissing everyone else, then Anders might as well get what he really wanted out of it. But every time the bottle pointed somewhere other than where he wanted it to. There was the occasional forfeit, the occasional quick chaste kiss (Anders was surprised to notice that Fenris didn’t refuse when Aveline leaned in to give him an awkward peck on the cheek) and a few that were even bordering on passionate. 

Merrill and Hawke kissed, with more enthusiasm than Anders thought was strictly necessary. As they pulled away, Merrill looked flushed and far too pleased with herself and Anders had to resist the urge to shoot a small bolt of lighting in her direction. It was only a game, he reminded himself. And, besides, he knew he wouldn’t get away with it. 

But still, every time it was Anders’ turn to spin, the bloody thing refused to land on Hawke. 

It was Hawke’s turn next and he’d decided that if he had no luck this time, he was giving up.  

Hawke reached down, a look of concentration on his face, as though that would help anything, and he set the bottle spinning. A second later, something odd happened, the bottle started spinning faster, and then it jerked strangely out of control. Then the whole thing shattered, sending a shard of glass soaring right between himself and Varric. 

“What the—?” he exclaimed

“Shit,” said Hawke.

“Ouch!” said Merrill, who had apparently been hit. 

The others leapt back from the circle with various cries of surprise. 

A moment later, Anders was on his feet, crossing the short distance toward Merrill, to see to her injury. 

“That doesn’t normally happen, does it?” she asked.

“Not usually, no,” Isabela replied, giving Anders a suspicious look. Anders frowned back at her. She didn’t think that was him, did she?

But it wasn’t like he had time to argue if she wanted him to help Merrill. He rolled up the sleeve of her green tunic to find the shard of glass still buried in her arm.  

“I need something to get this out of her before I can heal the wound.”

He looked over at Hawke, hoping he wouldn’t have to make the trip down to his clinic. 

“Fenris!” Isabela exclaimed and Anders looked at her in puzzlement. “He can do his magical fisting thing. You know, like that story I mentioned with my old crewmate…”  

Anders didn’t have a clue what she meant, but he looked over at Fenris anyway, who sighed and reluctantly made his way over. 

“Hold out your arm,” he said to Merrill and she did as instructed. Then she grimaced as Fenris’s hand briefly turned incorporeal and the tips of his fingers sank beneath her skin. Anders watched in amazement as he plucked the shard of glass clean from her arm. 

“Wow,” Anders couldn’t help but comment. “That’s pretty useful, actually.”

Fenris smirked slightly and went to drop the glass in the pile Hawke was carefully gathering from around the room, with a distinctly guilty look on his face. Aveline was helping him, so Anders left them to it and looked to see if anyone else was injured. 

When the chaos had subsided, they were all in agreement not to try another round of the game and settled down with a fresh round of drinks instead. Anders pulled Hawke aside, as he was the only one he hadn’t yet got around to checking over for injuries. He found one, a small cut on his cheek, mostly hidden by his beard. Anders reached up and couldn’t quite help letting his hand linger as he called up the creation magic he needed to heal the wound.

“So,” he began conversationally, “who were you trying to get it to land on?”

“What?” asked Hawke. But Anders was too close not to see the way his cheeks flushed red as he realised Anders was on to him.

“Force magic to help the bottle to stop where you want it to? I’ve seen it plenty of times before. It takes a little more finesse than you might expect.”

Hawke’s blush deepened. “Ah,” he let out an awkward chuckle, “you caught me.”

“I knew it.” Anders smirked. “So who was it?”

“Pretty sure you know already.” Hawke looked him straight in the eyes and there was a particular glimmer in his that Anders had always liked. 

It seemed silly then that he’d spent the whole night waiting for a spinning bottle of all things to tell him to kiss this man. If he wanted it that badly then he didn’t need to leave it up to chance. Not when Hawke was standing right here in front of him, still wearing that slightly sheepish grin after being caught trying to get the bottle to land on Anders.

It might not have gone quite to plan, but who was Anders to deny him what he wanted, when he wanted it so very much himself? 

Anders’ own grin widened, before letting the hand still lingering on Hawke’s cheek slip around to the base of his skull and pulling him forward into the kiss he’d been after all night. 

[fancyfade]

hi i really like your in-depth comic read-throughs! i was perusing one of your NTT posts and if you don't mind an anon about this, i wanted to say i found your reaction to the arranged/political marriage subplot really interesting. i feel like i had the completely opposite view on the conflict: this was a time where i entirely sided with nightwing over kory because i couldn't see how nightwing could accept kory going back to do the bidding of the parents who had abused her so much and even sold her into slavery as a child. tbh maybe i'm biased because i'm not white american and i come from a culture where arranged marriages are still extreeemely common today, but it's impossible for me to not view it as intrinsically archaic and abusive system that's used to treat women and children as vessels and assets :/ so i was really mad at any implication in the comic that it's just a cultural difference that nightwing should've gotten over. especially because kory was the princess of the whole planet, so any kids she'd have either with her arranged match (or honestly even with nightwing) would undoubtedly be called back to serve the planet and be forced to fight in the gazillion wars that tamaran seems to have - after all, tamaran's royal family seems to have no issue calling kory back when they need her even after selling her into slavery :/ and i felt really gross watching kory and karras have sexy times (xD) for their wedding night or whatever even when she and nightwing still loved each other it was so...bleh. i think this was one of the many times where the 2003 cartoon had a way superior version of a plotline over NTT, i was happy when they explicitly made starfire's arranged match a really ugly alien thing because even though it was on-the-nose, it really showed you that what was happening was completely wrong and not just a cultural difference that people should accept (which is an excuse that a lot of people use to justify abusive treatment in different cultures imo). but also i think wolfman might not have treated the concept of arranged marriages with the gravitas it deserved, being a white american himself, so that's why i feel more strongly about this since it's so personal (and i think a lot of MENA/south asian women would agree) - and tamaranean culture kinda makes me really uncomfortable anyway with how it's emphasized to be extremely "war-like," and violent or whatever. if it really was supposed to be a nuanced conflict and not just "kory is repeatedly pulled into doing the bidding of her evil abusive family" then wolfman should've made tamaran far more sympathetic imo. sorry for all this text, i'm not trying to change your opinion or anything - it's more like i'm one of those fans sending in mail to DC's "letter to the editor" columns :D

I'm guessing this letter to the editor is in resposne to this post? (link) Specifically this bit?

Dick acts selfishly, and does not understand Kory’s situation with her planet (the complex political situation, doesn’t like her having tamaranean morals even though she doesn’t kill people on earth, her just saying she would be OK with it is something he hates) and generally focuses on himself when he apologizes rather than on her,

Which I did sound kind of 'it's just a cultural difference' thing, but that really wasn't my intention, especially since earlier in the post I mentioned that she was forced into the position. His problem is the fact that he doesn't seem sympathetic at all to her being forced in this situation.

(like specifically these panels):

None of that interacts with Kory being in an impossible situation or her parents being abusive. Dick's just treating it like she personally betrayed him.

Anyway, so like... I agree that kory being pushed into an arranged marriage is awful but I don't see how dick being the biggest jerk ever about it is helpful? Like I don't think I ever said the arranged marriage is a good thing (and... I don't think the plot of the TV show was an improvement for reasons I'll get into soon) but if your gf is being treated badly by her family treating her badly yourself and telling her her culture is savage (after dick himself has acted wary of kory herself and said she's too bloodthirsty, so the judgment clearly is of her herself and not the practice of arranged marriage) is not gonna help. It would just make her feel like you don't understand and she can't be open with you. Like how is Kory supposed to separate Dick's judgmental-ness of she herself as a person and Tamaranean from his feelings towards her arranged marriage? She already canonically felt as if she was being asked to hold herself back and could not be herself.

So I'm saying... I totally get why you don't like the arranged marriage and why it has bad real world context. I'm just also saying that dicks actions are still terrible boyfriend material, he seems more worried about her being non-monogamous from his perspective than her being forced under the thumb of her parents who signed her up for abuse. Like, we see a scene where he compares a woman who's husband wants to kill her because she cheated on him to him and Kory. That doesn't strike me as "Dick understands this practice is abusive". it strikes me as "Dick views this as cheating and blames Kory for her parents putting her in this position".

Getting into the toon: i think that making the arranged husband an ugly alien just correlates beauty to goodness and it seems as if the general idea is not "its awful she's being forced to marry someone she doesn't love", but " oh no she has to marry an ugly thing". Like, going into the issue with arranged marriage: it's the forcing the marriage itself, not the 'the person might be ugly'. If I recall correctly for the toon (It's been a while since I watched) Kory also still was going to go through with it, before her friends revealed that the invasion fleet was a scheme, so it's not really she got a chance by the writers to actually say no or have agency herself, it was just her friends vs blackfire.

WRT Your assessment of Wolfman: I definitely do think he wasn't intending to portray it as a terrible thing, since many people besides Dick seemed chill with it (and like I said earlier - a lot of Dick's complaints seemed to be that he viewed it as her betraying him, not 'she's going back to people who hurt her and ruining her own happiness'. IIRC he said something about her parents like. Once. But his general angst, especially once the marriage goes through, is about the non-monogamy). I think Woflman was playing it up for cheap drama, rather than treating it with the appropriate gravitas, as you said. (and in general, yes, Wolfman does stereotype the Tamaraneans a lot).

I think the plotline could really have benefited from having people besides Dick and Joey there. I think Donna could talk some sense to Kory without lashing out at her like Dick did, and Kory might feel more supported.

Anyway TL;DR: Sorry if it was unclear, I'm not saying my analysis of the arc in a pro-arranged marriage thing. (I didn't realize I had to clarify that was something I was against). I still think that Dick acts like the world's least helpful, worst boyfriend in the arc, and due to the previous way he treated Kory, it's not really read as something to help her or as him understanding why it would hurt her to be in this position. He mostly seems to be focused on how it hurts him, especially once the arc's over.

Thanks for sharing your perspective, though! It was interesting to read and food for thought and definitely made me think to be more clear in what I'm critiquing

[electrasev5nwrites]

Ninja Daily: AIC 32

"If you'll excuse me saying so- that will be less efficient." The principal leaned forward in his seat. "It is unprecedented. It would be less complicated to add extra classes."

Aiko gave him a thin smile. "You're excused."

There was a pause where he clearly waited for her to say something more. Gradually, he realized that she wasn't going to respond in substance. His brow furrowed. He did not seem to know how to respond to this.

'I know you,' she thought uncharitably. 'Not you in particular, but the specter of public education. If I agree, in two years the class sizes will be back to what they are now.'

She was certain that the hostility never reached her face, but he seemed to understand that the topic was closed.

"I see." He cleared his throat and bowed. "As you say, Mizukage-sama."

"Thank you for your time," Aiko said silkily. "Please let me know who you would like to appoint as fukoucho-sensei to the winter campus."

He took a deep breath and avoided eye contact. Maybe he was thinking about the extra work, or maybe he was realizing that this was technically promotion to principal of two Academies. He turned a twitch into a bow and backed out of the office.

Functionally, once the tiny Wave school was included, that meant that Kiri had three Academy programs. No one could say shit if she decided it was better to have children sign up either in fall or spring (depending on birthdate) to sort candidates out between two Kiri-centered schools, but people might have thoughts about her power-grab in Wave. It was going to make Kiri a lot more powerful, but also a lot more vulnerable unless she managed to get the right political cover via Wave's court.

Ah, well. She would worry about that a little later.

Aiko leaned back into her chair and thought about how having graduations twice in a calendar year would allow her to streamline genin through the promotion process without leaving newly skilled workers languishing on carrying boxes and scraping paint for an entire year.

6 months on standard D ranks and training, integrating specialized jutsu practice for public works at month 4 when the D ranks would be pared down and outgoing Academy classes picked up part of the workload as part of the adjustment period… 2 months of solely intensive jutsu work and training, and then adding C rank missions.. The city was going to be gorgeous, and her people were going to have a hella solid foundation on the basics.

Fuck yeah, competency!

"Your wicked plans are dull of late." Sanbi yawned. "We never do anything pleasant."

"There's the thing with Utakata." Aiko pulled open a desk drawer and started digging around for the report from Mei. "We're going to go see if she's right about that Sound base. That's an adventure, isn't it?"

"Hardly." The turtle was unimpressed. He rolled onto his side and lashed his tails. "Probably no one will die. Unless it's me. From the smell in Rice Country. Why must it be so damp?"

Aiko considered several responses to that, from -because rice needs a lot of water- to an incredulous -you're a turtle, and you want to live in the ocean. Why do you care about how damp Rice is?- and decided silence was the best response.

She found the paper, put it on her desk top, and stretched out of her chair. She was doing pushups in front of the window when someone knocked. Aiko flicked her hair out of her face and called, "Enter at your peril."

"I'll take the chance," Nishikawa said dully. She saw his sandals stop in front of her. His toenails were painted with a clear gloss today.

"You probably shouldn't," Aiko mumbled. "I've been having really weird dreams about Kiri's streets being filled by a river of corpses. That's not a sign of a stable boss." She laughed.

She was not joking even a little bit, but Nishikawa did not deign to acknowledge what she had said. Which, fair. What else could the poor man do at the point when he was already stuck with her?

"Mizukage-sama, the ambassador from Nadeshiko is requesting an audience at your earliest convenience."

Aiko made a humming sound.

"They say to thank you for letting them know that we no longer suspect them of poisoning," he said dryly. "The ambassador claims that it was a lovely execution and thanks you for the invitation. On another topic, security suspects the Toad Sannin is not remaining in the approved areas, though evidence is thin."

"He's insufferable," Aiko said, frowning down at her right hand. Her left curled into a fist where she held it at her lower back. She did her next pushup rather aggressively.

"You should not fight him," Nishikawa reminded.

She sniffed.

"If you still believe that you would like to schedule one long meeting with him before evicting him from the city, you have time on the day after tomorrow. It is ever so unfortunate, but Jiraiya-sama has received a summons back to Konoha after your business is concluded. So there is no longer benefit in evading him." He cleared his throat. "About the delicate matter…" He let his voice trail off politely.

Aiko grimaced, because she hated it. "I can't lock Gaara up for the duration of Jiraiya's stay," she said, not for the first time. "I need him to work with Suna's people, so I can't send him out of the country, either…" Unless she sent all of them out of the country?

Her secretary didn't say anything else, but he didn't have to. Something had to be done. They would be in a lot of political shit if Konoha knew she had Gaara in her country. It might put a damper on the hunt for Orochimaru.

"It will come out eventually," Sanbi said. He sounded uneasy about it.

She would make it work. Somehow.

"I'm going to go see the Daimyo," Aiko decided. She leapt to her feet and gave a stretch. "Please tell the ambassador that I'll see her within 24 hours. Do schedule Jiraiya, I need him to get off my island. Preferably onto a boat on the West coast of Suna headed into the sunset of unknown waters. For now, keep the Suna delegation, including Gaara, inside. I'm going to see if I can get Wave to host them, as an ostensibly neutral party."

"And a show of your alliances," Nishikawa agreed, sounding much more impressed than usual. He bowed. "As you say."

She went home, put on what she was thinking of as her ceremonial kage uniform, and waved two black operatives over from the shadows. She took them along with her to the reception hall of her closest ally and contact in the Daimyo's court.

It did not take long for Nagihara to meet her. He was a tall man with a deep voice. He would have been quite handsome, if he didn't look as though he had been stressed and sleep-deprived for the past twenty years. He looked out of place in his silks, a ragged bear uncomfortable tolerating a bow- but a man who would like to become a Daimyo could not walk around in a rough judo gi and bare feet.

'We all make compromises,' Aiko thought, smiling without involving her eyes.

She followed the current Daimyo's cousin into his private quarters. Her robe fluttered behind her, an airy confection the same shade of blue as the harbor's water at sparkling noon. She probably looked as impractical as Nagihara, but her clothes concealed more armor than an observer would probably guess.

They went through the necessary doublespeak- Aiko hadn't been expecting something for nothing, but the discussion needed to be had. Her agents prowled, pulling anyone lingering too closely away. Nagihara agreed to host the Suna delegation in his home, in exchange for certain gifts. It wasn't a favor worth killing the Daimyo, of course, but that was the natural escalation she expected of their relationship.

"The Daimyo may be persuaded to step down," Sanbi pointed out, back in Kirigakure. She was taking off the makeup and jewelry after dropping Gaara and Temari's people off into Nagihara's hospitality. "He only cares for his poetry and art."

'If he lives, he could still have a child. Especially if he's suddenly freed from court duties,' Aiko reminded the turtle. She took out her earrings and tossed them on the mirrored tray on her vanity. 'Putting Nagihara in power would be a lot messier, were that to happen. I suppose he could step down due to ailing health and live for a time peacefully, but his health would have to be poor enough to eliminate the possibility of a competing heir…'

She got the distinct impression of confusion. "Humans of that age may still reproduce?" he asked, sounding uncertain.

Aiko suppressed a snort and tugged her hair down. The decorative updo needed to be turned into something she could pin up under a hood if she needed to. But first, she began brushing a dark powder into it so that she was less distinctive. 'Some can. He would need a much younger partner, but yes, it's possible.'

"I have not seen that," Sanbi said. He let out a disapproving rumble and shifted his great weight. "I had noted a pattern."

She took pity on him, because he was a fairly observant turtle trying his best to understand a species he didn't particularly like. 'It's most common to reproduce from about age 18 to age 40,' Aiko confirmed. 'That's what you've seen, right?' The hair color was convincing enough now, so she put down her brush. Her fingers flew through braiding and twisting motions that she had done hundreds of times.

He seemed to mull it over. "Yes," Sanbi decided. "The humans who do not have the white hair and loose skin. Those are the fertile ones."

Aiko took a moment to wonder if she would sound that impolitic trying to describe turtle reproduction. Probably. She decided not to try it. She was growing wise, in her old age. She put another pin in her hair and decided it would stay in place.

"You are old?" Sanbi asked, alarmed. "How many remaining years do you have?"

"No," Aiko said firmly. "I'm young and beautiful." She pulled on tight black pants with a wiggle, never fully standing up. Then she pushed her robe off her shoulders and tugged on the long-sleeved shirt waiting on the nearby couch's arm.

When Sanbi did not respond, she realized she had said that out loud.

There was a sense of amusement bubbling up from her seal. Sanbi was hoping that someone would confront her on her habit of apparently talking to herself.

Well, her bodyguards were probably getting used to that kind of thing by now. If not, they were going to have to cope or find a less stressful job.

She stood and checked herself in the mirror one more time. She tucked the shirt's hem in, cocked her head, and then untucked it. She pulled white body armor over top, and felt a kind of soothing nostalgia wash over. It wasn't quite an ANBU uniform, but it was close enough to feel familiar. The sword she'd requisitioned was shorter and straighter than the one Kirigakure's Black Ops wore as standard, but it suited her well.

Utakata came into the room, a vision in black. He was holding his white mask pinched between thumb and index finger. He scowled at her. "Why must we play dress-up?"

"So the other countries don't know that I am there, obviously." She finished buckling on her equipment and glanced up at him. "If I'm the only one in black ops gear, it'll be conspicuous. But if both of us do it, Kirigakure is merely addressing this mission with characteristic seriousness."

Plus, they weren't actually going to meet any foreign contacts. She'd fill him in once they were definitely away from any of Mei's people. She carefully did not look at any of her bodyguards. She was looking forward to being away from people she could not fully trust.

Even when he was bitching like this, she felt a little thrill at the idea of being back in the field with only Utakata. They had made a good pair. She'd been depressed for most of that timeframe, but she had still been a lot less stressed and miserable than any time since. She missed it. She missed the camaraderie with someone who didn't fear or admire her, the freedom to keep her own schedule, the lightness that she couldn't feel when she had to carry the weight of a city.

"The other countries will think that we are stiff and dull," Utakata said. It wasn't as idle as he was aiming for. "As well as unfriendly."

'Come on, has peer pressure ever worked on me?'

She suppressed a snort. "That's fine. You'll endure somehow." She breezed over and reached for his mask. He let her take it. But he stiffened like an offended cat when she lifted onto her toes and laced her hands behind his head to tie on his mask.

Aiko fell back onto her heels and gave him a wink to disguise the twist in her stomach. They looked like Root. She put on her own blank white mask and didn't contemplate it too deeply.

She took his hand, and they went to a location that turned out to be a nice little woodland patch with an overgrown well. Utakata gave the area a deeply skeptical look.

"Correct. We're not in Ame," she said, before he could say anything snide. "We have a lot of errands to do today, I didn't feel comfortable disclosing them all around listening ears."

He inhaled, and gave a slow nod. "Does this have to do with your requisitions from Intelligence officers?" Utakata asked.

She flashed him a smile, even though her mask would hide it. "That's errand one, yes. We need current copies of mission intake paperwork for every shinobi village. We're going to pick up the three kinds that my spies couldn't get."

"And then we go to the rendezvous point?" he asked, long-suffering. "Will they notice the delay?"

"Definitely not," Aiko assured. "This won't take long. Plus, there's no rendezvous. I forged that correspondence, I know all of Konoha's quirks and codes. It was mostly to ensure that Mei thinks she has things under control and doesn't question where we are while we go on a crime spree."

He let out a long, sad sigh. "Why do we need the mission intake paperwork? Are you looking for ideas to increase our efficiency?"

Aiko rubbed some tension out of her neck with a thumb. Utakata's eyes tracked her hand. "I'm going to put that spy under a genjutsu so that she thinks she made it home," she explained. "I'm going to put the table full of forms out, and compel her to find the correct sheet and fill out her mission report. She'll pull the one from her village."

He choked on a laugh.

"It is a good plan," Aiko said, smug. She interlaced her gloved fingers and gave a stretch. "Once we have her mission report, I can decide how best to deal with her."

"Assuming that your genjutsu does not leave her a hollow shell of a human being," Utakata jibed. He was still watching her, but a slight line creased his forehead now.

She pointed at him rudely. "I'm getting better. I'm not that bad, actually."

"Which is why our poisoner chose execution over your genjutsu." He delivered the line utterly flat, because he was mean like that.

Well, that had worked out anyway. The envoy from Nadeshiko had overseen his confession, and so any possible snub over the diplomatic snafu had been smoothed over. Publicly, he had been a lone agent, and dealt with. That meant there were no legal consequences for how she had dealt with...

"Oda Kai is perfectly fine," she shot back, feeling more than a little pleased with herself. "You can barely tell that I did anything there. I'm getting a lot better at it. If Oda trusts me, why can't you?"

"Because you are a habitual criminal," Utakata said. But he sounded fond. "You are disreputable."

She pulled her mask up enough so that he could knew she was grinning at him. "Damn right, and I have a long exciting day of crime planned."

He sighed. "I do not know why I expected anything else. I should not have." He glanced away and then gave a delicate little cough. "Aiko… are you feeling well?"

"What?" She furrowed her brow. "I'm- do I look sick or something?" Self-consciously, her hands rose up towards the space underneath her eyes. She didn't think they looked particularly dark or swollen today, but she could have been wrong...

Utakata shook his head. "You look fine. But you seem tired from your body language. Perhaps you need to take a rest from your duties soon." At some point, he had drifted about a step closer to her. Definitely close enough to smell the berry lotion she'd put on her neck and decolletage 6 hours prior when she had been preparing to leave the house for work.

Ha, rest? She wished, but there was no time for that. She gave him an awkward smile. "We should get going, I definitely do not want to be caught stealing from Nadeshiko. That would be awkward."

"We're in Nadeshiko? Aiko, they are our closest allies!"

Okay, there was no need to be so appalled and dramatic. She shot him a pitying look and fixed her mask. "That's why we can't get caught, obviously. Come on, this will take like ten minutes."

Despite how scandalized Utakata was, they managed to retrieve paperwork from Nadeshiko, Bear Country, and River Country without any complications. She dropped it off in her office closet, and then met Utakata at a quiet place where they could make an entry plan.

Or where she could tell him, rather.

"I've invaded this base before," Aiko admitted. "In my timeline. There's paperwork here that I want to steal. Also, it will take a lot of resources from Orochimaru, and freak him out that someone knew exactly where to go. He's going to flip his lid looking for spies and traitors." She probably should have sounded less gleeful as she said that.

"What if he is present?" Utakata asked.

She shrugged. "We fight him. If it looks like we're going to lose, we flee. Probably he won't be here, though. We're going to kill or recruit- probably kill," she added, at the dangerous look on her companion's face- "all of Orochimaru's people who we meet inside. Aside from the tactical value of what I plan to take from him, we're also reducing his influence and security. He hasn't had that long to build up loyal troops. If working for Orochimaru suddenly means a very shot lifespan, we're going to see a lot of defections and possible spies. That can only help us."

'We also have plausible deniability for having acquired the Ichibi back in one of these missions.' She was unrepentant about the deception. 'It is not the best possible outcome, but Konoha thinking that I got the Ichibi in this timeframe and failed to share the information would be less damaging than the truth that the hunt for Orochimaru was launched under false pretenses.'

She was also going to keep them rather distracted. Suna was already fairly well in hand- Gaara was alive, they knew that, they were distracted by internal politics and the deal he was attempting to make with them. Konoha was the only possible problem.

"So you shall create trouble for them?" Sanbi asked.

'I'm letting them know about trouble they already have.' Aiko wrinkled her nose, searching around for the covered back entrance that she and Sai had used to enter this base. 'If this works out perfectly, I'll get Danzo put out, Tsunade back in Konoha, and Fukiko in treatment. The fucking uproar of all that bullshit will make my failure to disclose some minor information sink into the background.'

Ideally, things would be in the same place as they had been in her timeline, two years down the line. The report on Fukiko had been old, and documentation of Danzo's collaborations with Orochimaru was probably saved in every base so that he could access it for blackmail if needed. Anything else would be icing on the cake- she remembered some sealing contracts, jutsu scrolls, research notations, weather and trade data…

"Why are you so obsessed with papers?" Sanbi slapped a tail against the ground, disgusted. "Find something of substance to occupy your time."

He was, she reminded herself, a turtle. No matter how brilliant Sanbi was, he just did not share her human perspectives.

"Mine is infinitely more practical," came the sullen reply. "I would simply like to go live in a lake, brush against seaweed, perhaps collect interesting rocks. You make things so complicated."

"I found it," Aiko said, very quietly. Utakata crept closer. He kept peering around, clearly anxious about the Sound-nin who had to be nearby. "I'm going to pop it open, and we'll drop down into the hallway. We're aiming to be fast and fatal. Anyone who doesn't engage can be allowed to escape, as long as they didn't see us do anything distinctive. I want to get the data and get out. If I see anyone or anything that changes our priorities, I'll let you know."

He nodded, tense but accommodating. She cracked the manhole open cautiously, mindful of just how loud rusty metal could be.

A klaxon went off.

"That's new," Aiko said cheerfully. She flung the metal cover aside with a horrid screech and clatter, since they weren't doing a stealthy approach anymore. Utakata had a moment to give her what must have been a filthy expression under his mask before she leapt down. She had just bounced back up to her feet when a door flew open.

Utakata landed beside her. "I hate you so much," he informed her.

She laughed and darted forward to meet the Sound-nin spilling into the hallway. The next few minutes were tangle of sound and collision: the white of a man's eyes as he came toward her, the crack of a bone to her left, dust in the air from a percussive blast that missed her and dug into the wall instead.

There was really only one way it could end, however. She and Utakata were simply much more powerful than almost any missing nin could hope to be. In that first encounter, she and Utakata killed 6 sound-nin.

They met other small groups- the second of which included a man in a lab coat. Aiko stood over his corpse for a moment, confused. Orochimaru was using this base for experiments, currently? She hadn't seen any evidence of that kind of thing when she had come by with Sai. It must have been moved to a different facility, or ended altogether.

She was curious, but her priorities were straight. So she got them to the archive room and proceeded to seal and steal all of Orochimaru's filing cabinets to sort through later. It gave her a thrill that simply stealing all the files wouldn't have. Office supplies were fucking expensive. She deserved those file cabinets much

That only took a couple of minutes, but it was still odd that no one bothered her while she did it. Unsettled, Aiko went back to exploring the hideout a little faster than before. If they weren't protecting this information, that probably meant that something else of strategic value was the presumed target. If there was something that interesting around, she wanted to know what it was. And take it, with her greedy little magpie fingers.

It turned out to be a lab, on the lowest level. She vaguely recalled getting poisoned in a similar layout at one point so she stepped cautiously and managed to disarm that trap. The lab proper had a long line of cells along the wall… She suspected that they had recently been vacated. Aiko gave a contemplative look to the back exit that the staff must have been escaping through. She considered it.

Utakata made a sound in the back of his throat. She spun, expecting to see an enemy.

But no. He was hovering a meter away from a bubbling glass column of water, head cocked.

There didn't seem to be anyone around… So she chanced speaking. "What's wrong?"

He didn't turn to look at her. "I believe there is a person in that container." His voice was low with fury.

She gave the glass another glance. It looked pretty empty to her. "...Should we open it?" Aiko wondered. Utakata probably knew what he was talking about. If he said there was a person, there was probably a person.

"We could. The prisoner will possibly become injured upon the broken glass," Utakata analyzed. "If possible, we should drain it using the mechanism that must exist."

Aiko gave that its due consideration- about 2 seconds- and made her decision. She took a couple steps further away and lashed out at the tank with a chakra chain. It shattered.

Utakata gave a surprised curse and jumped to avoid the outflow of water and glass shards.

"I'm not going to go around pushing buttons in Orochimaru's torture chamber," she said mildly. "Half of them are probably traps."

"Yeah," agreed a hoarse voice. She cocked her head to see a naked and familiar figure coalescing out of the water. Suigetsu shook his head briskly. Water droplets splattered against Utakata's mask. Then Suigetsu grinned at her, showcasing his pointy teeth. Maybe he was trying to be threatening. "I wouldn't touch anything here." The bravado didn't match up against how obviously exhausted he was, dark circles all but stamped under his eyes.

Oh. Oh my god. As an adult, Suigetsu was adorable. Look at that sweet murder child. No wonder the seven swordsmen had let him follow around at their heels.

"I'm going to keep you," Aiko decided aloud. She pushed her mask up her face, so he could see who he was talking to. "Hello, sweetheart. I hope you haven't been here long. I'm the Mizukage now, I'm not as crazy as the last one. I'll find you a nice sword."

The grin slipped off Suigetsu's face. "What?"

"You heard me." She clapped her hands. "If you're loyal to me, you can have a legendary sword. Currently we only have one person trained in them, which is a shame because most of them are sitting around unused, waiting for someone worth picking them up."

Suigetsu's mouth was hanging open. After a moment, he turned to look at Utakata. "Is this for real?"

Utakata stiffened, just that little bit. "This," he said distastefully, "is indeed the Godaime Mizukage. I believe that she is making a legitimate offer. It is quite the promotion for a chuunin such as yourself."

"Huh." Suitgetsu eyed her, tilting his head. He sneered, but it didn't seem mean-spirited. More defensive than anything. "Things have gotten real weird since I got locked up. I, uh." He straightened his back. "I didn't defect or anything. I got caught."

"You can come with us on our next errand," Aiko decided. She reached, slow and friendly, to bop Suigetsu across the chest with a sealing scroll. "We're going to go make some copies of paperwork, break into Konoha, and go harass Tsunade. That sounds fun, right?"

"We're what," Utakata said. His voice went dangerously high. "There must be more than one person named Tsunade. You are not referring to Senju Tsunade. You are not."

"Can I just go home?" Suigetsu wondered aloud. He fidgeted. "I'd like to get some equipment. I've… I don't know how long I've been here." He made a face.

She gave the two young men a disgusted look. "We have things to do," Aiko stressed. But she looked between Utakata's red, stubborn face, and Suigetsu's awkward stance, and her resolve melted. She threw her hands up. "I give up. Fine. Suigetsu, you can go get clothes and rest. We can discuss the details of your employment later."

"I haven't agreed to anything," he bit out. He looked a little trapped.

Aiko waved that away. "Yes, but you will, because we will make a contract that you want. Obviously. Your training makes you a valuable resource, moreso than ever now that the swordsmen of Kirigakure are so diminished. But." She pointed a finger at him. "You probably don't own anything anymore. The village was basically destroyed. I fixed it, it's really pretty now. But yeah… let's find you some pants." She grimaced. "I'll, uh. Leave you at my house, you can hang out with my kids until I get back and find you a place."

Suigetsu let out a high, strained giggle. "Why do you know my name?" He seemed stressed about it. "How did you know I trained with the Swordsmen- did you come to find me?"

Aiko rolled her eyes and sternly informed Suigetsu that she knew everything about everyone and that he shouldn't question her. That shocked him enough to shut him up, for a while. He followed her around, shooting her suspicious looks. She found him some pants on a Sound-nin who didn't need them anymore. She left him in Kirigakure under Karin's dubious supervision. And then she went to an office supply store and paid to use their copy machine.

Just to have a place to covertly unseal all the filing cabinets and sort through them for the information she needed now, she sent Utakata off to reserve a room at a love hotel. He went, incredibly grudgingly. It was difficult to overstate just how displeased he was with this turn of events. She had never actually been in one before, so Aiko was delighted and fascinated to realize that they worked by locking the client in the room until they paid via a pneumatic tube.

That meant that she Hiraishin'd back and forth while Utakata grimly sorted through Orochimaru's ludicrously illogical sorting system. They did find information about Fukiko, which she had three copies made of.

The best discovery was that Orochimaru had research notes on how sharingan eyes had been preserved and prepared for implant into a wind-natured shinobi over age 60, with A- blood type. That in itself was not particularly damning, but a separate report on a surgical procedure of a person with the same statistics referenced the fact that the recipient had personally retrieved genetic material for that surgery from the first Hokage's very protected, secret grave.

That narrowed down the pool of candidates considerably. Aiko herself had only known of the gravesite for less than a year before she'd fucked up time and space. There were not many shinobi who met that genetic and age profile, and even fewer of them could reasonably be expected to access those materials.

Aiko gave serious thought to having the reports published if Konoha didn't do anything about Danzo. They might not dislodge him without the right leverage, but they would definitely put a fox in his hen-house. She would like to have him off her back. She definitely was not sending poor Sai back into Konoha until Danzo was dealt with.

'I'll wait on that,' she decided. 'I might not need to. And, anyway, if I decide to do that, I'll want actual correspondence and such between Danzo and Orochimaru to really make the accusation stick.'

When she was finished with her photocopies, she separated them out by where she wanted them to go and labeled them in folders. Then of the folders got sealed away.

Utakata watched this happen with a deep and abiding resentment.

She felt a little bad, so she sat on the bed and patted the mattress beside her. "Rest for a moment?" Aiko offered. She was going to do something horrifically amoral in Konoha today, so she could use a rest to brace herself anyway.

He hesitated.

Well, whatever. She laid down on her back and reached her arms over her head. She managed to snatch a pillow from the head of the bed and dragged it down so that she could use it.

The mattress indented slightly as Utakata sat down. Not right next to her, but not too far either. She smiled up at the ceiling. "This was fun," she said. It was easier to be honest when she wasn't looking directly at him. "I missed spending time with you."

"I have noticed the absence as well." He let out a sigh, but it sounded more peaceful than the stress sound he usually made around her. "I… also enjoy working with you."

She closed her eyes and moved her arms slightly, enjoying the sensory pleasure of just how soft and cool the bed sheets were. The low hum of the fan above was lulling her into relaxation.

"Aiko." His voice was low and gentle. "May I…?"

She glanced over at him to check if he was asking what she thought he was. Judging by the softness in his eyes and the way he was leaning over her…

Oh. Well. It was hardly unexpected, was it?

She thought about it. They were far from Kiri and the responsibilities and eyes there. He was a good friend who she trusted. And she wanted it.

"Just one," Aiko decided. Her tone wasn't as firm as it usually was, but Utakata still huffed a little laugh as he bent down. She curled her right hand in the back of his hair and tilted her chin up to meet his lips.

[quilleth]

Appearance 10 for Elisabeth and Vanora? And if you're up for more - Objects 11, Food 1, Nature 8, Hobbies 10 for anyone who sparks joy? :D

:3 Ooh these are fun! Thanks for asking!

Appearance 10: If your character could splurge on a particular garment, what would it be? Elisabeth: Elisabeth isn't really someone who thinks about clothes or fashion very much, but she would splurge on something practical that's really nice quality, like a nice wool cloak that maybe has some pretty floral decorations or something similar like that. Vanora: Vanora absolutely is the kind of person who would treat herself with fancy pajamas. Like the expensive, silky matching set camis and shorts with pretty, soft embroidered lace trim kind of fancy. Though for her, probably made from really high quality linens or other plant based fiber, since those are better for the heat than silk. In a similar vein, cute matching bra/ undies sets if they were a thing in her universe, although she's also the kind of person who would just wear a swim suit under her clothes most of the time when she's home, since she lives on an island and is likely to just go "ok swimming time" at any given moment of her day, and who has the time to go back home and change first?

Objects 11: What might an acquaintance think is a good gift for your character? Elisabeth: plants and books (or books about plants) and they'd generally be right Vanora: Vanora is pretty easy to read and would also be like "aww you didn't need to give me anything!" 🥺 about receiving gifts regardless of what they are. Someone who doesn't know her particularly well might think a weapon could make a good gift, but she's happy with the ones she has. Handmade things however would go over especially well for her.

Food 1: What flavor would your character say their personality is? Vanora: It's entirely anachronistic since it's such an artificial flavor, but if she knew about it she might say blue raspberry or tropical fruit punch or something similar xD Noah would make some kind of pun on the nutty professor academic thing, until Elisabeth says he should've said shortbread instead since he's so short on wits to make that pun when he hasn't been in university for years and goes out of his way to avoid their younger brother's tutors. (she would probably say something sensible like an herbal tea for herself).

Nature 8: What type of environment does your character like best? Noah likes places where he can meet people or sit and read and people watch. The outdoors doesn't really agree with him too much, so mostly ones that are indoors and cool. Elisabeth likes being in quieter places, like a library or out in the gardens. Vanora's favorite place/ time to be is on the beach at sunrise or sunset and there's a nice warm breeze coming off the ocean, and everything is a little hushed, except the colors of the sky.

Hobbies 10: Is there a skill your character doesn’t know they’re bad at? Elisabeth I think is pretty well aware of what she's not good at, and probably would assume she's worse at something than she actually is. Noah isn't really unaware that he's not good at outdoorsy sportsmanship kinds of things, but he's optimistic about his abilities anyway. He gets an A for effort if not skill xD Vanora isn't particularly good at more creative pursuits, but she also doesn't much care if, say, her singing actually sounds good as long as she enjoys doing it. The other answer to this for her is flirting or recognizing when she is being flirted with and she is terrible at it. Absolutely no clue 99% of the time. Also planning and thinking ahead are not her strong suits either.

[obislittleone]

House Of Memories (42/?)

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!reader

Warnings: ansgt (the usual) bad decisions (also the usual)

Summary: There's a new mission, and you discuss your uneasiness of it with your dear friend, Anakin Skywalker.

A/n: tbh this is just Anakin fluff... there will be a second update tonight, and you can thank @elmontsmile for that bc she made me

also y'all if you like the story, maybe consider buying me a coffee :)

Words: 2.1k

The new mission, the one that had been discussed for hours in the council room, in a meeting that overtook your training time by an hour, it was possibly the biggest mission in the temple since the clone wars began.

A team of about thirty Jedi, including several council members were assigned to the task. Those council members by name, were Mace Windu, Plo Koon, Yoda, and of course, the reliable Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. There were several other knights, with their clone battalions at the ready, one being Anakin. Since this mission required as many available hands as they could acquire, you would be standing on the front lines with your Master, ready to face whatever challenges arose.

The droid army, led by Count Dooku and his Sith master Darth Sidious were hiding out on a planet called D-Qar, unawares that the Jedi order obtained their location.

The mission, though overly crowded with experienced Jedi, should be simple enough. The clone battalions would do most of the grunt work, planting explosives, and making sure the perimeter was secure for you all to make a distraction. No lives were to be lost on this endeavor, that was the primary goal, which is why so many reinforcements were required. This battle was one the jedi had hoped would be in and out having had no casualties. It was a bitter hope, as in the back of their minds they knew something had to be in store. Nothing ever went as planned in the order. There were successes, sure, all the time, but often because sacrifices were made for the greater good.

There was an entire Star Cruiser filled with the lot of you, preparing for possibly the most nerve-wracking mission you'd been on since this whole thing began. Everyone was on edge, though they didn't let on, and you, as well as Anakin, were sitting in one of the many hallways, where it was quiet and serene, the only sound being the distant murmur of thrusting engines.

"Do you think we're walking into a trap?" It had been on your mind since you left, and you could only wonder if your former fellow Padawan would agree.

"I think it seems too easy. No one will admit it, but the simplicity of the plan makes them feel anxious, I can sense it in the force, it's surrounding me."

"I can, too. I wonder if the 'no casualties' rule will stand once we reach ground," you began to fidget with your hands, something you'd picked up and hadn't been able to quit, not since you were a child.

"What do you mean?" he turned his head to you, sensing more distress in your outwardly calm being than anywhere else on the ship.

"If it should turn out to be a trap, and if they are prepared for us to come... they've always been one step ahead of us, somehow. Like there's one big puppet master playing both sides, but we got his undominant hand. I can't help but feel like something is wrong about this, and life will be lost."

"I won't let anything happen to you, you know that" he promised, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, your shakiness worrying him more than perhaps you were about this.

"I'm not scared to die," you told him, smirking. You'd brushed with death more times than you could count, and most of those times, Anakin was usually there to prevent things from going too far. On the other hand, there was on person who would much rather sacrifice themself for you than put you in harm's way of any kind. "I'm worried about Obi-Wan. You know him, he's stubborn. He'd run into the face of danger if it meant keeping either of us safe."

"This might sound awful, but I've never really been concerned about him in that way. Maybe I overestimate him, but since I was a kid, he always seemed invincible to me."

You laughed, that was one way to see him. You'd seen more, though, much more, and from each little scar he ever bore, you knew his humanity was evident. He was not a god, nor was he some substantial being in the force. He was a Jedi Master, and a good one, but he was still just a man, and he could bleed. Flesh and blood, that's all he was.... but not to you. To you, he was everything, and if he'd put himself on the line to defend you, you'd be unhappy for the rest of your life. The darkness always found a way to get ahold of you when you were at your lowest.

"He is one of the greatest Jedi I've ever known, as wise as Master Yoda, and Powerful as Master Windu. I suppose I don't wish to think of him as less, because it makes him seem so... mortal."

You understood, and for the most part you could relate. You wanted to see Obi-Wan as such, and believe it, so that your mind would not worry so much, but you couldn't help yourself. He was the love of your life, and anything bad happening to him was something for you to be stressed over.

"I'm often just reminded of what life would be like without him, and though I know his capabilities, I can't help but feel like he wouldn't think twice if it were for the cause of a greater good. He's selfless, he always thinks of others," you turned to him, and he nodded in understanding. The look in your eyes was enough for him to see how much adoration you held for Obi-Wan. Your worries over him, and wishes that he might stay safe, it was what he often thought about Padme, though he was wise enough not to voice those thoughts, in fears that she would become upset. Padme was strong, and courageous, and she made it known.

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't believe he would do anything that would prevent you from being happy. He cares about you more than you could ever comprehend."

"I think I might have an idea," you smirked at him, and he rolled his eyes. The mood became lighter after that, the conversation spiraling into the type of jokes you once would share. It felt like old times.

Anakin was your brother, and you loved him dearly. You never wished for a sibling, or a family member to be connected to, because in your eyes, you'd had one since you were seven years old.

"You can spare me the details."

"You started it."

-

It was a trap, a premeditated, organized, and prepared trap. The battle-droids were in droves of hundreds at the time. You figured they outnumbered the jedi by at least fifty to one. You may have been well trained, and your experience with these stupid clankers went without saying but having thirty of them on your six while trying to scale grounds was horribly challenging.

The Clone Troopers were trying to fend off as many as they could but given that most of them were infiltrating the base, that left few squadrons to be of service in the distraction portion of this mission. Two Jedi had lost their lives today, and you knew that the clone casualties had probably outnumbered that by ten times. No more lives, no more. You followed after Anakin, who was leading the retreating Jedi into a tunnel that would wind into the mountain, coming out the other side where your transports were. Anakin was a born leader, you could tell by his composure in rough circumstances, his calmness in the middle of a massive storm.

"Everybody in," he yelled out, guarding the entrance so that there was no chance a droid slipped in without him knowing about it.

You scanned the area, staying on the offense for as long as you could. If you switched to a more defensive form of combat, it meant you felt too overwhelmed to make any attacks, only blocking that which you could. There were very few Jedi left outside the tunnel, being you, Yoda, Anakin, Obi-Wan, and of course, the powerhouse himself, Master Windu.

He was at the very front lines, before all of you, and Obi-Wan was bringing up his rear.

"Master Kenobi, get your Padawan out of here," Mace Windu shouted over the chaos, but Obi-Wan would not leave the man to fend for himself. Yoda had made the wise choice to accept temporary defeat, heading over by Anakin to near the tunnel. He knew that fighting for a lost cause, however stoic and valiant, would only end in more loss. This was something he stood by and hoped the others would come to their senses and acknowledge as well.

"What about you?" he refused to leave a man behind. No matter their differences, they were Jedi, bound as allies by the order, and would not forsake the other to die like this. Obi-Wan was honorable, almost to a fault.

"I will be right behind you, now go!"

Kenobi used a bout of the force to push away an oncoming group of droids, which gave him a few seconds of a head start to run in your direction. You hadn't been too far from the tunnel, but he knew you weren't leaving without him. He had to snap out of his head when he first saw you. Five days out of the infirmary after being shot twice and look at you now. You were so elegant to behold. Your form of combat was so elegant, Makashi, form two... there were hints and a few subtle moves that reflected that of his own form, from what he'd taught you, you learned to combine the forms into one of your own, and it was beautiful. He had to rid himself of the thoughts, and save them for later, because this wasn't the time to be admiring you, although you deserved to be.

He rushed beside you, helping to fend off the remaining droids in your area before placing a hand at the small of your back and rushing you towards the tunnel. You looked back at Mace Windu, the way he backed up slowly, but gave you all time to escape.

Once you were in the tunnel, Anakin followed, leaving just one Jedi on the battlefield. When you were fully inside the cavernous stretches, the pathway narrow, you heard an explosion in the distance. They did it, the clones had accomplished their mission. Now it was time for you to complete yours. No more lives lost, no more.

As Mace hurried himself into the tunnel, the rocky ceiling above you began to shake. Everyone was running now, knowing that this whole location was probably becoming unstable for the blasts of the base.

The exit could be seen, and Anakin was the first one out, waiting at the opening for the rest of you to follow. Both you and Obi-Wan made it out of the cave at the same time, but upon hearing a rocky stalagmite falling from the tunnel's ceiling, you turned back. Mace Windu was trapped, with his leg rendered useless beneath the stone. He tried to lift it using the force, but was unsuccessful, probably due to the pain.

The opening of the cavern was closing in, and the rocks would enclose on him at any second, so you ran back, hearing the protesting cries of Obi-Wan behind you.

"Don't go," he tried to grab your arm, but you pushed him back, using a rush of invisible force, and kept running. You dropped to your back leg and slid under the falling debris, hearing the yells of your master become muffled as you let the darkness of the cold wet cave surround you.

-

@spencerrxids @sawendel @fandomstanner24 @i-shall-abide @officialjellydoughnut @whatshxrname @darkened-writer @superavengerpotter @cutiepoo16 @hypnoash @softlymellow @howlerwolfmax @mephistominion @honestlywtfisgoingon @anakinskywalkerog @mandiiellen @je--a-n @guyinachair27 @avenger5-a55emble @amelia-song-pond @kaminanii @the-abyss-of-fandoms @queenofnightdreamland @world-dominating-kitty @mandowhatnow @ella-error505 @annahalo @infinity-witch @beetlejuice-stuff @liueski @solarbxby @sirianisrock @lxdyred @endless-warrior-always-fighter @iloveinej @msjb2002 @shoochi @itsilvermorny @gingerrosecosplay @sebschicken @loversjoy @argentinemango @1-800-vader @house-of-kolchek @marierg @graciexmarvel @ttzamara @truly-madly-nerdy @molieux @majahu @dyzlks @pancakefancake

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 || helmut zemo, bucky barnes and sam wilson x reader

(this is a sequel to 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭-𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞, I recommend reading that first although it’s not 100% necessary... it would make this make a lot more sense though)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : it was just a matter of time before he upped the ante, all four of you knew that, but taking you all on a vacation specifically for this was a bit over-the-top.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 7.9k (hoo boy)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : smut (foursome/group sex + a scene that’s just zemo/reader, cockwarming, d/s dynamics, brief oral f receiving, a touch of dubcon/cnc but it’s very subtle and the reader is 100% consenting), established zemo x reader, sugar daddy relationship, ‘sir’ kink (with zemo), ‘daddy’ kink (with sam), orgasm control/denial, overstimulation, creampie, praise with light degradation, possessiveness (but also sharing, lol), exhibitionism/voyeurism, choking, brief anal mention, once again technically cuckolding but not in the typical sense, slight corruption kink?, too many robes, latin sokovian (or as I like to call it, serbukromanian), also assume that whenever the reader and zemo are alone they are speaking sokovian even though I write the convos in english for the sake of simplicity

thank you for being my beta @nsfwsebbie​ !!

                   When your Baron told you he wanted to take you on a vacation, you immediately assumed it would be to the mountains or some European city full of history and culture.  Instead, you were a bit surprised to hear he was interested in a beach resort, a private villa he had purchased in French Polynesia.

And then you found out he wanted to bring Sam and Bucky along too… and you were simultaneously more and less surprised.  More, because who brings tentative coworkers one barely gets along with on a romantic vacation?  Less, because of course he would do this.  Of course he had plans to dress you up in the tiniest bikinis he could find and show you off to the men who had already become pawns in his perverted game of social chess.

Not that you minded; you were the Queen of the board and it didn’t bother you if it was what the King wanted.

~

You spent the first night in the villa alone with him, which you appreciated.  It had been a while since you two had some real quality time together, and you were craving him more than ever, in every way.

After a beautiful day spent swimming in the crystal blue ocean and enjoying the sights your new temporary home had to offer, you took a shower and tried not to get too excited about how you might be spending the evening with him.  But, of course, you were only a few minutes into washing the saltwater off your body when you began to imagine his tongue on you, god that man could use his tongue to destroy you any way he wanted: with his words, with his kisses, or perhaps best of all with it tasting every inch of your cunt.  It was amazing how he could get on his knees for you and still have all the power.  He liked to make you keep eye contact with him while he did it, make you beg him to let you come, whatever it took to remind you that you were thoroughly and properly owned.

And you loved every second of it, you loved being helpless to him.  He made you feel so safe that being vulnerable with him by now felt like no risk at all.  You could remember early on when your fears and insecurities made you more hesitant to submit to him, and it was only with gentle patience that he coaxed you into it, never pressure or anger.  You weren’t a virgin when you met him but, sometimes it felt like you might as well have been since you were so inexperienced and undersexed then.  In fact, he was the first man, the first person other than yourself to make you come… and he made you come more ways than you had known possible.

Okay, so maybe the plan to not get your hopes up wasn’t going so well… you were already struggling to keep your hands from between your legs. Frankly, you would’ve already done it if you didn’t know that touching yourself was against the rules.

You’d gotten so used to taking care of yourself while he was in prison, at which point he obviously suspended that rule, and it was a hard habit to break at times.

You emerged from the bathroom in the fluffy robe you found on the door, smiling when you saw him lounging on the bed in a matching one, reading Анна Каренина (known by the West as Anna Karenina).  He looked contemplative, as always, and you always thought he looked especially sexy in his reading glasses.  You slipped into the bed beside him, resting your head on his chest as he found a position where he could read comfortably with his arm around your shoulders.

“You must’ve already read that book a thousand times, Helmut,” you sighed.

“And it gets better every time,” he mumbled back, turning the page.

You pouted slightly, nuzzling into his shoulder, and he chuckled.  “Is my little lutka in need of some attention?”

You nodded, and he kissed the top of your head softly.  

“Why don’t you keep me warm while I finish this chapter, hm?” he offered, and you involuntarily clenched your thighs together at his words.  He phrased it like a question, but it felt more like a gentle demand, and you were happy to agree either way.

“Yes, sir,” you hummed as you sat up and straddled his legs, undoing your robe and opening his to wrap your hand around his half-hard cock.

He reached his full potential with only a few slow strokes, and you found yourself absent-mindedly licking your lips as you saw the way your fingers just barely met with your thumb and imagined how your body would be pushed to its limits to take him.  Good thing you were already dripping wet even though you’d just been in the shower.

You indulged in rubbing your pussy over his shaft for a moment, enough to coat him in your wetness, before you lined up his tip to your entrance and sunk down onto him with a sigh, feeling like you could never tire of being stretched open by his thick cock.  

When your hips met his, and the tip of his cock brushed against the deepest parts of you, you had to bite your lip to suppress a whimper.  After so long apart, you were still readjusting to taking him and being on top didn’t make it much easier.

Honestly, you really weren’t trying to move; you just found your hips rocking slightly, seemingly of their own accord.  You moaned under your breath as your clit rubbed against his body, but you were pulled from your trance with a whine as he slapped your thigh.

“No moving, draga, I think I made myself clear,” he reminded you sternly.

“Yes, sir,” you breathed.

You were pretty sure that at some point, you were a patient person. But you couldn’t imagine that now, not when all you could think about was how amazing it would be to just ride him right there, memories running through your mind and making your inner walls ripple unintentionally.  He either couldn’t feel it or didn’t care, stoically continuing to read even as you were struggling to stay still.

Your plan was to be good for a while and then hope that you could convince him later… but you know what they say about best-laid plans, so you ended up cutting straight to the convincing pretty fast.

“Can I move yet, sir?”

“It’s hardly been a minute,” he frowned.

“Please,” you sighed, just barely moving your hips without even meaning to.

“Not yet,” he asserted, sounding a bit annoyed, but you needed this more than anything.

"Please let me move, please; I just wanna ride you so bad,” you begged.

He sighed, clearly irritated, and just when you thought you’d made a grave error, he finally put his book aside and looked up at you with a grin.  "If I had known you would be so whiny, I would have had you keep me warm with your mouth.”

You opened your mouth to respond but let out only whimpery moans when he ran his hands up your body, toying briefly with your nipples before wrapping a hand around your neck and pulling you down into a rough kiss.  Moaning into it, you couldn’t hold back any longer and started to rock your body atop his, savoring that perfect drag of his length along your walls that you’d missed so much.

Before you got a chance to really set your pace, he grabbed you tight and rolled the both of you over, pinning you under his weight as he fucked you in that way that was somehow rough and slow at the same time, moving his kiss to your neck and holding you down by your wrists.

“Fuck, th-thank you, sir,” you sighed, your cheeks warming when he chuckled against your skin.

“You really are too sweet, draga,” he whispered.

Your arms wrapped around his neck while your legs did the same to his hips, keeping him deep inside you while his lips and tongue teased your collarbones, his fingers interlacing with yours.

He spent the entire night somewhere between making love to you and fucking you within an inch of your life, making you come more times than you could count, only taking breaks from fucking you to eat you out like a starving man (and one time for a quick drink sometime around 3 a.m.).  It was no wonder, then, that you passed out just a few moments after he finally came inside you, sleeping soundly in his arms until well into the morning, nearly noon in fact, when the sun was streaming in through the massive window.

After a relaxed breakfast of champagne and fruit (the native pamplemousse was unlike anything you’d ever eaten before), Helmut encouraged you to shower again and meet him at the pool, which was a bit surprising since he normally liked to have you keep his come in you as long as possible.  “Our guests should be here this afternoon,” was his only explanation, and you had a few ideas about what that meant, all of which made your gut sink in an oddly pleasurable way as you were filled with anticipation.

“Wear that bathing suit I bought for you, the new one,” he added finally as he stepped out onto the back patio.

~

It might seem silly to have a pool on a property right by the beach, but on days like today, where the ocean water was just a bit too chilly, you were thankful to have the heated pool to take a dip in.  Honestly, you were a little surprised that Helmut didn’t make you swim in the ocean to see your nipples get hard through the tight black bikini, but then again, they were already getting there just from sharing a pool chair with him.

He was lying against the cushioned chair; your body sat between his spread legs as the back of your head rested on his chest.  And, this is entirely unrelated, but you really liked how he looked in the round sunglasses he had on.

You hummed contentedly as you reached up behind you to touch him, rubbing his shoulders and pecs.  You wiggled a bit, slowly, and imagined how it would feel if he got hard right against the small of your back.

"Mm, what's gotten into you, lutka?" he purred, rubbing your arms.

You rolled your eyes playfully.  "You know the effect you have on me, don't act surprised."

Just before anything exciting could happen, Sam and James entered through the fence, apparently already having changed into their swimsuits; you wished you had thought to wear sunglasses so they couldn’t catch you ogling their muscular bodies, but instead, you just tried to keep your cool as you waved hello.

“Welcome!” Helmut called out, both of you getting up to greet them properly.  “I hope your flight was alright…?”

“Yeah, it was great,” Sam nodded, “thanks.”

“You really own this whole place?” James added, glancing around.

“Yes, would you like to have a swim?  I hear it should be warm enough tomorrow for the ocean, but until then…” Helmut trailed off.

Sam went right ahead, diving in and smiling wide when he popped back up.  That man had such an infectious smile, you thought he should charge people to see it or something because you felt spoiled seeing it for free.

James jumped in behind him but seemed a little surprised when he returned to the surface to see you back in your chair with Helmut.  “Care to join us?” he asked you.

“Um, no, I already swam a bit this morning,” you remembered, suddenly shy, “I think I’ll stay by the pool a while longer.”

“Aw, I was looking forward to getting to know you better,” he pouted, and everyone else raised an eyebrow at that statement.  “Um, verbally, I mean,” he added, cheeks flushing slightly.

“What would you want to know?” you asked, sighing as you relaxed against Helmut’s chest.

“Well, what’s your story?” he shrugged, swimming up the edge of the pool to hang his arms over the edge.

“I… suppose it’s a rather short story,” you realized, “I was born in Sokovia, but my parents were immigrants.  I was a bit of an ugly duckling as a child, I think.”

“You look like quite the swan now,” James winked, and you hoped Helmut wouldn’t notice how much that affected you.  

“Oh, thank you,” you mumbled.

“Which reminds me, that’s a cute bikini you have on,” he complimented.

“Do you like it?” you hummed coyly.  “Helmut picked it out.”

“Why don’t you give them a better look, darling?” Helmut prompted, and Sam swam up to hang over the edge too as you stood up and fought the urge to cover yourself with your arms.  The Baron motioned his finger in a circle, silently instructing you to twirl so they could see the back, and you did though you felt a bit self-conscious about it.  Finally, once you were sure they’d had an eyeful, he let you sit back down in his lap.

“Cute, isn’t it?” he cooed as his fingers travelled slowly up your sides.  “It’s Chanel.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Sam dismissed, unlatching himself from the edge of the pool and falling into a backstroke.  “This is weird.  I just wanna swim.”

“You didn’t think this was seriously a free vacation, no strings attached, did you?” James shot back, getting up out of the pool and shaking some of the water off of himself before sitting down in the chair beside you two and letting his eyes wander over you.  “So, Chanel, huh?” he prompted, and you nodded.

“Helmut says I should only wear the nicest things,” you explained, sitting up slightly.

“Why does it matter?  You’d look beautiful in anything,” James cooed, and you felt a little dirty for how much you liked his attention.  Good thing you liked feeling dirty.

“And a rare wagyu steak would taste just as good served any way, but you wouldn’t put it on a paper plate, now would you?” Helmut countered.  “Well, maybe you would…”

James rolled his eyes but brushed off Helmut’s insult, returning his attention to you.  “I guess I’m just… hungry enough that it doesn’t make much of a difference.”

You reached up to trace your fingertip over the silver chain dangling off of his neck, biting your lip as you hooked your finger around it and pulled him closer.  “Are you hungry enough that you don’t mind that it’s another man’s meal?”

His blue eyes went wide for a moment before glancing down to your lips and back up to your unwavering gaze, your brow raised as if a challenge while his furrowed as if he were considering accepting it.

“If he’s willing to share…” James whispered back.

“Then kiss me,” you requested softly, pulling him closer by his dog tags one more time until your lips met.

The way James kissed you was… difficult to describe.  Gentle, but with this edge of intensity— like he was restraining himself, like there was so much more passion teeming beneath the surface.  You wanted to bring that out if you could; you wanted to see how far you could push him until he lost it.

As James carefully ventured his tongue into your mouth, only to pull back and nip your bottom lip with his teeth, Helmut kissed you too— on the back of your neck, that spot that always made you wet and desperate right away.  You moaned, and you couldn’t be sure exactly who it was for, but James sure decided to respond to it either way, tilting his head more to let his kiss explore you deeper.

Helmut’s teeth dug into your shoulder right as James nipped at your bottom lip like they had somehow explicitly coordinated to make you desperate; your right hand reached up to weave into James’ hair, your left squeezing Helmut’s wrist at your side.

The kiss ended just a moment too soon, and there was a delay before you blinked your eyes open to look back at James, who seemed quite proud of himself.

“Touch me,” you pleaded in a whimper.

“Where?” he asked, somewhat innocently.

“Y-you know where…” you mumbled.  

He grinned wide, all trance of innocence gone.  “I know, but I want you to say it.”

“My cunt,” you whispered, and he snarled just a bit at the word.  “Please?”

“Of course, which one do you want?” James prompted with a grin, showing you his hands as your eyes instantly gravitated to the metal one.

“I think you know which I’m going to choose,” you mumbled shyly, and he smirked as he reached forward with the vibranium arm to brush his fingertips over your stomach, moving down to the top hemline of your bikini bottom.

You just barely gasped when the metal digits swiped over your clit and began to rub gentle circles, almost too slow as if he wanted to tease you… which, of course, he did.

"Do you like the way he touches you, draga?" Helmut whispered.  His voice in your ear was like honey on your tongue, like honey everywhere.

"Yes, sir," you nodded, looking down at James' hand buried into your bikini.

"Hey, tell me you like it, too," James protested, "I'm the one doing it after all."

"I like it, James," you repeated, looking up at him.  "I… don't have a title for you.  Should I call you something when you touch me like this?"

"You can just call me Bucky from now on, okay?  I think we're well past close enough now for that."

"Okay, Bucky," you sighed, watching the way his jaw clenched when you called him by name, "please put your fingers inside me."

"Both?"

"Yes, please," you breathed.

"But my fingers are thick, they're hard metal, and you're so small and delicate…"

"I want them to stretch me out, just please—"

A loud moan of shock jumped out of your mouth when he pushed the fingers in all at once, and though it reawakened some of the soreness from when Helmut had fucked you the night before, it felt wonderful enough to make your back arch up from the strong body behind you, his erection now digging into your hip.

It was certainly loud enough to get Sam's attention, who suddenly appeared beside the chair while he towelled off his chiselled chest.

"Damn, what are y'all doing to her over here?" he wondered aloud as if he were concerned for your health.

"Just playing with Zemo's little doll," Bucky answered.  "She's really fucking tight, can barely fit two fingers."

"Wait, move over, let me see," Sam insisted, making Bucky pull his fingers out and Helmut holding you more firmly as Sam slipped his hand into your bikini as well, poking his fingers at your entrance before pushing them in.

His fingers were even thicker and longer than Bucky's, just by a slight margin yet enough to make you mewl and arch your back as your eyes fluttered shut.

"Fuck, yeah, you were right," Sam breathed, and you felt more hands running over your body but you couldn't even tell anymore whose they were; you knew one that reached to pull up your bikini top and expose your breasts was Helmut's, because only he would be so bold, but the fingers teasing your nipples, the rough palm running up your legs… they could've belonged to anyone, and that realization made your clit throb.

"Okay, okay, that's enough. I was here first," Bucky mumbled as you felt Sam's fingers slip out and the metal ones push back in— not to mention the thumb reaching up to circle your clit slowly.

He wasn't just exploring you this time; you could tell he had a mission.  The way he instantly curled into your spot, the way he moved quickly yet deliberately, all made your thighs begin to quiver.

Helmut kissed your ear, gently tilting your head to access your neck better where he began to suck hard enough to leave a mark, mumbling something in Sokovian about how good you were being for him and his guests.

You loved being good, and the praise made your hips lift a little so you could rock yourself onto Bucky's fingers; the three men chuckled proudly.

"Feels that good?" Bucky pressed, and you nodded quickly.

He fingered you even faster, harder, and you cried out.

"Ohhh fuck, Bucky!" you gasped.  "Bucky, I'm gonna come!"

"Oh no, you're not," Helmut groaned, giving you a quick spank on the inner thigh as you whined and jolted.  "James, take your fingers out."

"Do I have to?"

"You do if you want a chance to fill her with more than just your fingers…"

That worked right away, Bucky pulling back as you pouted at being empty again.

“Let’s take her inside, and we can continue this there,” Helmut suggested, and Bucky lifted you up into his arms as the Baron led the group back to the master suite.

The convenient thing about bathing suits is that it takes so little time to get naked, which is why the second the patio door was shut, Bucky and Sam were stripping as their hard cocks bobbed up against their stomachs.  As if that weren’t overwhelming enough, Helmut stepped away for a moment (which left you feeling more alone than usual) just as the men began to help you strip; Sam untied the back of your bikini while Bucky knelt and pulled down the bottoms, leaving you feeling exposed as you were totally bare before them.  Bucky smiled up at you and kissed along your thighs while Sam grabbed a handful of your ass and growled a bit under his breath.

When you looked over at Helmut, you saw he had actually dressed in his robe rather than stripping, nearly making you whine with disappointment.  But you couldn’t focus on that long as hands moved all over your skin, both of them still just slightly wet from the pool, and you shivered for both of those reasons.

You gasped when Bucky suddenly licked a thick stripe right over your folds, and if it weren’t for Sam’s arms holding you up, you might not have been able to stay standing.

Looking down at where Bucky was devouring you, he looked back up at you with a lot less dominating intensity in his eyes than you were used to seeing.  Not that you minded; after all, no one could do what Helmut did as well as he could, but maybe Bucky could do something different, and it would be just as enjoyable.  His tongue lapping at your clit was certainly wonderful so far.

Sam guided one of your hands back behind you to stroke his cock, your mouth falling slack, which he took advantage of by turning your face and capturing you in an open-mouthed kiss.  You heard your moans stifle against his tongue, felt his cock flex a bit as you smeared the precum you found at his tip.

“I think that’s enough for now,” Helmut interrupted, and everyone turned to look at him.  “Darling, come here,” he instructed with a curled finger that pointed to the bed, “hands and knees.”

You nodded and pushed the other men away, taking your place on the bed and looking up at him as he held your jaw gently.

"How long has it been since you had another man inside you, lutka?" he asked lowly.

"I can't even remember,” you admitted, “it's been so long…"

“Are you willing to try it?” he asked gently, no hint of domination or pressure in his tone, and you found yourself searching his eyes for the right answer.

“What do you want?” you asked him instead of answering.

“Draga, I’m asking what you want,” he reminded you, but you were afraid he would be hurt if you showed interest in the other men.  Sure, previous evidence indicated that wasn’t an issue for him, but your gut instinct was to deny your attraction.  So, you compromised. 

“All I want is you,” you answered first, “but…”

“But?”

“But is it awful if… if I want them to fuck me, too?”

He smiled, kissing your forehead.  “No, I don’t think so.  Only as awful as it is that I want to watch them fuck you.”

You looked up at him and smiled back, brimming with gratitude that he was so gentle with you.  It was fascinating how he wielded complete control over you and yet never used it against you.

“I have one rule, draga,” he added firmly, “you cannot come for them.  You only come for me.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And stay on your hands and knees, so I can always get a good look at you, yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

He kissed you one more time before pulling away and sitting back in the chair in the corner with his ankle over his knee, looking at Sam and Bucky expectantly.  Every chair he sat in seemed to look like a throne as soon as he was in it.

“Well, get on with it, then,” he instructed, motioning to you.  The men looked at you and looked at each other before some kind of silent agreement took place and Bucky stepped up first.  Sam sat down to watch you as you felt Bucky stand near the bed behind you, flesh and metal fingers running over your back until you shivered.

Then he pressed his cock against you, coating himself in your wetness, and that made you shiver, too.

You braced yourself as he lined himself up, whimpering slightly as he pushed his cock into you as well as hearing him moan lowly.  The hand at your waist tightened as he hissed in a breath through his teeth.

"Fuck," he breathed, holding you still so he could fill you completely.  “S’tight…” he slurred.

“How does it feel for you?” Helmut asked you, raising an eyebrow as he examined your expression, your mouth fallen slack, yet your brow furrowed.

“It feels… different,” you stammered your answer.  You gasped loudly as Bucky started to move, and yes, this was very different.  His cock was curved differently and though it didn’t exactly reach any new parts of you (you were sure Helmut had already touched every part of you physically accessible), it did stroke them in new ways.  

He gained speed rather quickly, clearly too on edge himself to stay patient, and you didn’t blame him although it sent you moving faster toward the edge than you would’ve liked.  At first you wondered if it would even be a challenge to keep from coming like Helmut had demanded… you chided yourself internally for ever being so hubristic.

His legs pushed yours apart, spreading them wider, and he began to really fuck you in earnest, fast and needy and each slam of his hips against your ass harder than ever.  “O-oh fuck,” you choked, forcing your eyes shut and scrunching up your nose for a second when he slammed the tip of his cock right into the deepest spots inside you.  This position left you with nowhere to go, put your whole body on display for him along with giving you no escape from his onslaught of pleasure.  Worst of all was that you were pretty sure he wasn’t even trying that hard to make you feel good, and yet feeling used like that only turned you on more.

"Bucky, please, slow down," you whimpered.

"Absolutely do not do that," Helmut interjected sternly.  "Don't let her tell you what to do."

And, possibly just to spite you, he actually fucked you faster.  You sobbed and bit down on your lip, fighting everything building up inside you.

“You’d better not come,” Helmut warned through his teeth, “you’d better not fucking come.  You know how bad it would be for you if you came for another man.”

“Y-yes, sir,” you nodded.

But Bucky was slamming right into your spot, and he knew it, too. He knew how desperate you were becoming, and apparently, he didn’t mind at all that you’d be punished for it.  He leaned down to growl against your ear, “I know how close you are.  Don’t you think it’d feel so good to just let go and come on my cock?”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks as the force it took to hold back your orgasm became painful.  “No, it would only feel good to come for Helmut…”

“C’mon baby, just stop fighting it and come for me,” Bucky taunted, “squeeze me tight with that sweet little pussy; I know you need to so bad.”

He wasn’t wrong, but you blinked with teary eyes up at Helmut and wanted nothing more than to please him and make him proud of you.  “Please, m-make him stop,” you begged, “I won’t be able to hold back anymore…”

“He’s not going to stop until he comes, lutka, and you need to stay strong,” he explained, his voice soothing you slightly.  “You need to be my good girl.  Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir,” you whispered.

Bucky held your hips tight as he pulled your body back onto his cock, and you forced your eyes shut to try to focus on not coming.  No other man had made you come in your life but Helmut, and you had no intentions of breaking that streak.

“Think you can make me come before I make you come?” Bucky challenged.

“I have to,” you answered breathlessly.  “And I want you to come… I wanna make you come so bad, Bucky, please…”

“Mhmm?” he encouraged.

“Please, I want it, please come for me,” you whimpered.

“Fuck, I will,” he promised darkly, fucking you even harder.

Helmut interjected a brief instruction: “Pull out.” 

Bucky nodded a little, breathing heavily as you felt his cock throb slightly, especially at the base where each movement stretched you out even more.  It was so beautifully erotic and you were tensing every muscle inside you to try not to come, which helped speed him up quite a bit since you were gripping him so tight.

“Fuck,” Bucky grunted, “fuck!” 

He pulled out and instantly painted your back with a roar, sliding his cock over your ass as he pumped stream after stream of come onto you.  You sighed happily, satisfied that you had managed to stave off orgasm with perhaps only a few seconds to spare— you’d never been so happy to make someone come before because this time it brought relief that you had done well for your Baron.

Then again, you always felt that way when you made the man himself come, but this was different because you had been moments away from failing him.

Speaking of the Baron, he stared down at you proudly the whole time, kneeling down slightly to swipe his finger through the cooling spend on your back and bring it to your open lips.  “Mm, you really are my perfect little girl,” he mumbled as you sucked his finger diligently.  But he turned his attention away from you to call out across the room, “Sam!  It’s your turn.”

Your eyes went wide.  “W-wait, Helmut, I’ll come!”

“No, you won’t,” he hissed, eyes darkening again, “because I told you not to.”

And Sam was already behind you, taking Bucky’s place who had already cleaned himself up a bit and returned to his seat, letting the Baron pour him a drink which he gulped down in one go.

When Sam pushed into the end of you, your natural instinct was to arch your back up to try to keep him from going too deep, but he growled and pushed your back down again with a strong hand that made you feel so small for a moment.  “No, baby, no running away… you’re gonna take it all.”

“Yes, daddy,” you breathed, yelping a little when he roughly shoved in that last inch.

From then on, he went much harder on you than Bucky had, spanking you and gripping your ass while he fucked you, and the most embarrassing part was how much harder it made it to keep from coming.  It was clear that he realized making you come would give him power over everyone else in the room for different reasons, and he was determined to gain that power.

“Does he fuck you this good, huh?” he groaned.  

“He fucks me better,” you shot back right away, making Helmut chuckle slightly.

“If your plan is to make her switch allegiances, you’ll have to do better than that,” Helmut taunted, and Sam doubled his efforts as one hand pinched your clit and the other groped your breast.  You almost lost it right there but managed to pull yourself together, your whole body shaking with the effort to keep the pleasure at bay.

“Well, if he can fuck you better then why doesn’t he?” Sam continued his leading questions, even though you could barely keep up a conversation at this point.  “Why does he keep pimping you out to us if he’s fucking you right all on his own?”

“Don’t you understand?” you breathed, your head falling down onto the bed as you were almost able to look back enough to see his face.  “This is my punishment.  He knows I don’t want anyone else; that’s why you’re here.”

Sam smiled, perhaps in pity, and yet you honestly had to close your eyes because his smile was so lovely that it could’ve brought an end to your restraint.  “Poor thing, he’s really got you whipped.  I… still can’t believe I’m doing this, but you feel too good to stop now.”

He yanked your head back by your hair for emphasis, making you yelp as he fucked you brutally.  Your toes curled and your fingers dug into the sheets, and you had to close your eyes because the way Helmut was staring at you made this all much too difficult.  Maybe it was just that he didn’t seem jealous at all, or angry; but he didn’t seem like he was getting any excess pleasure out of this, either.  It was… almost neutral, but something burned behind his eyes brighter than maybe you’d ever seen it, his legs crossed and his fingers interlaced as he waited for you to either hold or break.

With the top half of your body fallen limply onto the bed, you reached out above your head and felt Helmut’s hand grab yours, squeezing slightly, and it helped keep you grounded as you held his fingers.

“Oh fuck, ‘m gonna come,” Sam groaned out his warning, “gonna cover this pretty ass in my come, you want that?”

“Yes, please,” you shuddered. 

“Keep begging for it,” he demanded, rushing his words as you felt his cock start to throb against your walls with his impending orgasm.  

“Please come, please come, please come on me, Sam, please,” you chanted, over and over, struggling not to come and hoping that if you could speed him up, then you could make it.

He grunted through his teeth as hot ropes of seed covered your ass; though your body was left wanting, dangling on the edge so close to your release, your mind was satisfied that you had managed to follow your Baron’s rules.

Sam stepped back to admire his work, finding another spare robe to cover himself with as he rejoined the other men across the room.

“Would you like a drink as well?” Helmut offered to Sam, unfortunately letting go of your hand in the process.  Sam was still catching his breath, running his hands over his short hair as if he was processing everything.

“No, but are those cigars up for grabs?” Sam replied, pointing to the ornate box propped open, and Helmut nodded.

“Of course; what’s mine is yours,” he answered, presenting the box and lighter to him.

“Yeah, you can say that again,” Sam added flatly, the three of them all looking at where you were sitting, covered in come and waiting patiently for your next command.

Just as you feared they’d all have their cigars and whiskey and ignore you completely, your Baron knelt down to look at you face-to-face, smiling proudly.

“You did so good for me, darling,” he cooed, and your insides clenched as if you could come just from hearing that.  “You don't think I'm horribly cruel, do you?"

"No, sir," you smiled weakly.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised with a kiss to the tip of your nose as he stepped away to the master bathroom.  

You glanced at the other men— Bucky with his crystal glass of whiskey, Sam puffing at the cigar stoically— and wondered what, if anything, you could possibly say.

“So, how’s your weekend been so far?” Sam asked you plainly, breaking the silence.

“It’s only Friday night,” you realized, sighing as you tried not to imagine how much debauchery the Baron had in store for you.  Right now you were so exhausted that it sounded like too much work; and you were so desperate only for Helmut that the idea of anybody else being involved intimidated you.

Helmut returned quickly with a washcloth, sitting beside you on the bed and placing it gently on your back.

“As pretty as you look covered in come, I’d rather not make too much of a mess,” Helmut explained as he wiped you down with the damp cloth, your skin tingling and your body crying out for more of his touch.

“Will you fuck me, sir?” you mumbled, somewhere between an honest question and a desperate plea.

“Yes, I will,” he answered, making you hum happily, “and I’m finally going to let you come.”

You bit down on your lip, trying not to moan just from hearing that.

“But I’m not going to let you stop.”

The lump in your throat was impossible to swallow, but you tried anyway as he tossed the rag away and circled the bed, standing behind where you were laying limply.  He grabbed you by your ankles and pulled you down to where he needed you, covering your body with his as he kissed the back of your neck slowly.

“I bet you’ll come the moment I’m inside you, draga,” he whispered.  You nodded in agreement, gasping a bit as you felt his cock teasing your swollen, sore pussy.  Just the tip bumping into your clit was enough to make you think you could come right there, you’d been on the edge so long.

But then he pushed into you in one stroke, not rough yet enough to reignite the soreness of being filled by two men already, and your walls started to pulse around him.  A million words swirled in your mind, words about how perfect he felt and how you’d missed him so much and how no one could fuck you like he could, but none of them made it to your mouth where you could only moan loudly.

He wrapped his arms around you, he kissed everywhere he could reach, and waves of pleasure washed over you until tears filled your eyes.  You lost count immediately, coming on his cock over and over as you became a limp, whimpering mess right away.

“You two really did miss out,” Helmut taunted the other men between his own moans, “it feels so fucking amazing to be inside her when she comes.  She gets tighter every time… blyat, so tight I can hardly control myself.”

It was already hot to hear him speak to you like that in these moments, but for him to speak to someone else, to keep you from forgetting that you weren’t alone and that these men had just fucked you and were watching you come right now?  You hadn’t even imagined before what that would be like.

“Please, please, sir, please,” you chanted, your voice breaking until you could barely whisper.

“What is it that you want, lutka?  Do you even know what you’re begging for anymore?”

“I want whatever you want, sir, please,” you cried.  He reached around your body to rub your throbbing clit, and you all but screamed.

“I know you do, beautiful, I know,” he breathed, kissing your back and shoulder tenderly to calm you.  “I love you so much, draga, you know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, I love you too, Helmut,” you whispered, “more than anything.  I love being yours.”

“Aw,” you heard Bucky briefly sigh.

“Dude, shut up,” Sam corrected him harshly.

“It’s sweet!” Bucky defended.

“It’s weird; this is all so weird,” Sam frowned.

“You didn’t seem to mind before…” Bucky trailed off.

Two of Helmut’s fingers swiped over your open lips and you immediately sucked them into your mouth with a satisfied hum, the taste of his skin always comforting you.  When he rolled you onto your side, it was so much easier for him to touch you wherever he wanted and it only did more to keep you overwhelmed with pleasure until you worried you couldn’t take much more.  But you kept sucking his fingers, tears still falling which he occasionally kissed away, until he took his hand away to wrap around your neck instead.  You nodded a little to let him know it was okay to choke you, and your loud moans fell to sudden silence when he tightened his grip.  

It made your eyes roll back, it made your walls flutter and your toes start to go numb, it made you wonder if you were going to pass out whether or not he let you breathe again because your body was already ready to give in.

You sucked in a gasp when he let go, sobbing his name as a particularly deep thrust knocked you right into your peak again.  He kept one hand on your neck as the other reached between your legs to play with your abused pussy as he fucked it harder than ever.

“I can’t come anymore,” you assured, shaking your head and trying to push his hand away from your sore clit.  “I— I can’t…”

“Yes, you can, draga, I know you can. Just relax and let me keep making you feel good,” he instructed, somehow both gentle and demanding all at once.

“I… I can’t…” you breathed, nearly incomprehensible between thick sobs, but you were already coming again in spite of your words, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body from the inside out.  He choked you out into silence again, praising you all the way through it.

“There you go, shh, it’s all right,” he soothed, “you’re so beautiful, darling, so good for me, just keep going…”

You reached back to lace your fingers into his hair and tug, which did nothing to deter him from kissing your neck just beneath where his thumb gripped it, same as your hand wrapped tightly around his wrist didn’t stop him from quickly rubbing your clit.

Breath filled your lungs when he let go, and you were so desperate for relief that you felt like you weren’t even in control of your words anymore.

"Please come inside me," you begged mindlessly, "please, I need you so bad, please…"

“Is that what you need?” he groaned.  “You need to be full of my seed?”

“Yes, please, want it deep in me— fuck, Helmut, please!”

He growled and bit your ear lightly, mumbling his promise to fill you up in Sokovian— sometimes you thought he spoke Sokovian when he was about to come because he was so distracted that he forgot English, but you didn’t think that at the moment because you were currently too cockdrunk to think about anything.

His low moan echoed right through your body as you felt his cock flex and throb with each pump of come, just as deep as you’d wanted, and you sighed happily at the familiar feeling, finally relaxing into the mattress.

But perhaps you relaxed a little too soon because he made you come one more time after he’d filled you, whispering something about he wanted to use your pussy to milk every drop from his cock, but after that finally he pulled out, and you collapsed face-down onto the bed, ready to pass out even though the sun was only just beginning to set and you’d slept until noon earlier.

“Well, I think we sufficiently knocked her out,” Sam chuckled.

“‘We’?” Helmut repeated, sounding a bit offended yet bemused as he redressed.

“Okay fine, you did most of the heavy lifting, but only cause you wouldn’t let her come for us,” Sam relented with a frown.

“I swear, I was this close to getting her to break,” Bucky interjected, sighing before taking another slow sip of his (third) drink.

“Yeah, what would’ve happened if one of us made her come, anyway?” Sam wondered aloud.  “She seemed pretty worried about whatever punishment you had in store for her.”

“Nothing too terrible,” Helmut shrugged, “I just would’ve fucked her in the ass.”

Bucky choked on his whiskey as Sam tried and failed to suppress a smirk.

“She lets you do that?!” Bucky blurted out between fits of coughing.

“She lets me do whatever I want,” Helmut replied, “I’m surprised that hasn’t become abundantly clear to you by now.”

“I guess we’re still adjusting to it, that’s all,” Sam explained.  “I don’t know about you,” he looked at Bucky, “but this is new for me.”

“I was born in 1917; everything is new for me,” Bucky frowned.

“Well, this is new for us too,” Helmut assured, “especially her, she was so inexperienced when she met me…”

He paused for a moment to reminisce before glancing at you lying prone on the bed and looked totally fucked-out.

“But look at her now!” he finished.  “She takes it all in stride.”

“Yeah, she’s a trooper alright,” Sam agreed.  “Be careful with her, Zemo, ‘cause I think if you hurt her too bad, Bucky here is gonna be waiting in the wings to steal her.”

“I— what?!” Bucky snorted defensively.

“Don’t think we can’t see you giving her googly eyes, not that I blame you or anything… getting deepthroated for the first time will definitely make you catch feelings,” Sam smirked before taking a puff of the cigar again.

“It’s not like that, I’m just… listen, I guess I’m just a bit more conventional than you perverts,” he frowned.  “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful or anything, I just can’t imagine having a girl like that all to myself and letting anybody else lay a finger on her.”

“Not everyone is as insecure as you, James,” Helmut shrugged.  “Women can’t be stolen.  They can only go where they want to.  And she wants to be with me.”

He turned back to ask you if you agreed, but you were already fast asleep.  Smiling slightly, he grabbed a blanket from the foot of the bed and unfolded it to drape over you; you instinctively cuddled up under it without waking up, letting out a quiet sigh.

“Goodnight, draga,” he whispered with a kiss to your forehead.  “Rest well, you’ll need it for the morning.”