#sweating and crying as I do everything in my power to avoid having to research devil fruits

[invictarre-archive]

One Piece verse bc the brainrot’s got me good

Leon Brandt-Muriell, aged 21, is the captain of the Champion Pirates, a small crew originating from the island of Galar. Like many others in the world, he was drawn to the seas in search of chasing his own ambitions, and the competition to be the first to find the One Piece was too big an opportunity to pass up. He’s always down to take on a challenge! 

In reality, however, Leon doesn’t care too much about finding that prize. He’s far more interested in the exploration and sense of adventure that comes from sailing through unfamiliar waters, and he’s keen to see as many wonderful sights as he can so he can relay his stories to his family waiting back home. Unfortunately, Leon’s sense of direction remains as appalling as it is in his canon pokemon setting, and so a lot of his adventures mean going in circles, getting hopelessly lost, or having to pick a random direction, sail straight, and hope they reach land eventually. He doesn’t mind; it’s all part of the fun!

Speaking of his home, Galar is one of the few islands in the world with a rich natural supply of Dyna Stones. They can be found all over the land, something that’s made the island a bit of a hotspot for Marines and pirates alike, and the island has been pushing forward in its efforts to draw the most potential from these mysterious minerals. Galar’s greatest invention came in the form of a Dyna Band - a wristband that, when powered by a single Dyna Stone, allowed the wearer to temporarily infuse anything they touched with the explosive Dyna energy. The Band was designed to be most commonly prepared with projectiles, things that could be safely thrown and detonated a fair distance away from the person.

Leon owns one of these, and he’s lucky he got in there quick - once its dangerous potential was known, the item’s production was forcibly halted and withdrawn from public accessibility.

This incredible weapon didn’t come without its downsides, however. As of right now, the invention is still new and underdeveloped, and its halted research means it’s unlikely to progress any time soon. At maximum, it can infuse a total of three projectiles with explosives before it needs to recharge. These explosions get weaker each time, though all have the potential to be dangerous. The second issue is that using a volatile mineral often means dealing with unforeseen side effects.

Leon himself was injured by his Dyna Band, needing weeks of hospitalisation and being left with deep scarring up his right arm and across his chest. It was this injury that inspired him to leave Galar and make a new life for himself on the seas instead.

( Short summaries on the rest of the Champion Pirates are below this point.)

Marshy, aged 16, and Bernadette, aged 14. While they don’t have a lot of practical skill to bring to the table, the Champion Pirates’ youngest members make up for their inexperience with their friendliness. Marshy is the strongest swimmer, though he’s slow to react to the sounds of people drowning, and his fishing skill is unmatched. Bernadette, on the other hand, is great for chasing rumours or gathering general information. People are more likely to let their guard down when they’re approached by a cute, doe-eyed little girl, and she’s quick to use this to her advantage to wring as much knowledge as she can out of them. The two teenagers are very close friends.

Voltaire, aged 23. The only present expert on Observation Haki. Some of the others have limited usage, but Voltaire’s skill with it far surpasses everyone else on the ship. Combine this ‘sixth sense’ with his catlike grace and almost-silent style of moving around, and you have someone perfect for slipping unnoticed into the occasional out of bounds place. In the more mundane day-to-day, Voltaire insists on keeping watch at night. He argues that his Haki stretches father than the others’ eyesight (a valid point, to be fair), and likes the solitude he gets during the night.

Meilyr, aged 27. The navigator and first mate, though he’s often mistaken for the captain by those unfamiliar with the crew. He’s been a friend of Leon’s for years and takes it upon himself to act as his guide whenever they’re away from the confines of the ship. Meilyr’s weapons of choice are a sword and (slightly battered) shield, often enhanced with Armament Haki, and he’s gotten rather good at using them.

Amias, aged 18. The closest thing they’ve got to a doctor, though his medical capabilities are... arguable. In Amias’ defense, he is excellent at tying tourniquets and has the best first-aid knowledge out of all of them, so he’s better than nothing. Sickness, however, is far beyond his capabilities. If a paracetamol, glass of water, and wet paper towel on the forehead don’t cure it, they’ll need to stop off somewhere and find a doctor as soon as possible.

Duke Tudor, aged 55. Supposedly a member of Galarian nobility, though information on that is limited. Tudor has extensive knowledge on hallucinogens and always keeps a couple of vials on hand. The gases themselves are weak and harmless, designed to confuse rather than do any actual harm, and feel like entering an odd, dreamlike trance. They’re saved for situations where they need to distract their enemies and make a quick escape.

Teddie, aged 61. He was the first to meet and bond with Leon, having been introduced when the boy was only nine years old. They met at Galar’s Dojo, a 'no man’s land’ open to all who wish to learn how to fight regardless of their affiliation, where Teddie had spent all of his adult life honing his skills. This extensive training means he’s the only person aboard capable of using Rokushiki, the superhuman martial arts style most commonly seen within the ranks of the World Government. Teddie vastly prefers the Rankyaku and Soru techniques, combing the speed and air slashes into a single attack he’s dubbed his ‘Surging Strikes’.

Rotarie, their Den Den Mushi. Though it’s not technically a crewmate, everyone aboard treats it as one. He spins in circles whenever he’s receiving a call, and developed the cute habit of making calls of his own. They don’t make very much sense, since he’s a snail and not a master conversationalist, but he’s sure the effort is appreciated.

[wolf-and-bard]

The Edge Of The Edge Of The World

Prompt: Human Shield

Relationships: Jaskier/Filavandrel

Rating: M

Content Warnings: some violence, not graphic; implied minor character death

Summary: When Jaskier starts to have the same apocalyptic dream from Filavandrel's point of view over and over again, he decides to go a-looking for the elven-king. He finds Filavandrel in the valley of flowers, finds also that his old crush has not dampened. Just when they are reuniting, they are disturbed by a hired assassin... In which: Filavandrel bears the weight of the world upon his shoulders and Jaskier is drawn to him, helpless to fix it, but willing to try anyway.

Word Count: 4.6k

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo​ I AO3-Link

It's the dreams that ultimately bring Jaskier back to Dol Blathanna. After everything was said and done - the clutches of the elves escaped, his song written, Geralt pestered - he swore himself not to meddle with Filavandrel and his sundered court ever again. Out of respect, yes, and out of fear, and out of a strange mixture of both. The latter concerns a part of Jaskier that is all lust and greed, and would have been strip-dancing for Filavandrel if it hadn't been for the imminent threat to his and Geralt's lives. Jaskier finds no shame in that, he was eighteen then, but he also isn't quite so certain that upon meeting the elf again, he wouldn't fall prey to those same desires. His heart has a strange way of becoming stuck in time like that. And Jaskier wasn't going to give in and go. He wasn’t going to return to the Valley of Flowers, no matter how often he thought back to his time among the elves, no matter how many sonnets he dedicated to the stern eyes, proud figure, golden locks, and tragic history of one Filavandrel aén Fidháil. He wasn’t. But then the dreams start around the same time that Geralt starts being tossed more prophecies than coin and Jaskier has to attribute some significance to that, right? Destiny tends to meddle in heaps like that and while Jaskier is no firm believer in higher powers, he can see clear as day the strain it puts on Geralt, avoiding it day and night.

On top of that, the dreams repeat. Jaskier never has the same dream twice. He just doesn’t. Only this one, he goes through every night for a fortnight straight and it comes to the point that even Geralt - who's still treating Destiny like his lavatory - calls him out on it. "You've been crying through the night again," he grunts one morning by way of greeting and when Jaskier gently brushes his own cheeks with sweat-sticky fingers, they come away wet. Salty air clings to his nostrils and he sniffles, still caught in the undertow of the great melancholy that suffuses every moment in that other world. The inn room around him feels thin, see-through, and Geralt wavers around the edges, fuzzy like smoke so much so that Jaskier doesn't dare reach out to his friend for fear of him dissolving.

“It seems I have,” he mumbles to himself and glances at his lute. The instrument sits idly in its case, having caught dust as they’ve been away on a three-day hunt for a rabid, enchanted bear, and the ornamental swirls glitter in the first sunlight of the day. Jaskier can feel her like a presence, the same way Geralt can feel his medallion, he suspects. She hums with a similar sort of magic.

A treasure from Filavandrel himself. More than a kingly gift, the instrument serves as a constant reminder. To remember and shut the fuck up about it. Jaskier gets up and ignores Geralt’s confused grunts. He’s in nothing but his smalls still, but this cannot wait.

“Jaskier, are you awake?”

“Yes, yes,” Jaskier says, waving Geralt’s inquiry away. Careful not to upset her – something Geralt would roll his eyes at him for, no doubt – Jaskier picks his lute up by the neck and props his foot up on the chair the case sits on. He balances her on his knee and puts his fingers down on the neck to play the first chord he ever strummed on her. Jaskier does and it sends a jolt through his body.

The notes go straight to his chest and he sobs out loud. More tears stream down his face and he knows he has to heed those dreams. Filavandrel needs him. Jaskier is sure of that.

“There is something I have to do,” Jaskier says and puts the lute back into her case, then turns, scrambling about for his clothes. “A journey I have to take.”

“Jask, you’re crying. Is there… are you… do you need my help?” Geralt’s head is cocked, his eyes wide. Jaskier shakes his head. This is something he has to do on his own. Jaskier gets dressed and wolfs down the breakfast Geralt orders for the both of them, then disappears. He only notices when he’s two days out of town that he forgot to tell Geralt where he’s going. Destiny holds his life in her hands then and Jaskier find he doesn’t mind.

---

Jaskier doesn’t know the way to Filavandrel’s halls exactly. It takes him a week or so to travel to Posada where he stops for a rest. The people there remember him, well they remember the white-haired witcher that took care of the devil, but they also remember the bratty bard they threw bread at once prompted, and Jaskier gets a chance to update his reputation with beautiful renditions of his top three songs. They earn him a hearty dinner and a feather-stuffed bed for the night. He sleeps like a rock for the first time in forever, and once more wakes with mournful tears staining his cheeks, his skin thin. The dreams have been more intense, more vivid and real. Jaskier can barely remember what it felt like to wake up without this great grief weighing him down and still, he pastes on a smile. Whistles a tune as he gets ready to search for the elven-king.

Jaskier leaves his horse with the lovely innkeeper in Posada, as well as the rest of his belongings – spare clothes, spare lute strings, his journal – all save for the instrument herself. The woman will keep them save in exchange for his promise to play at her establishment some more to draw customers once he returns. Before he knows it, Jaskier’s out in the valley again, by himself this time. Without Geralt there, the pervading aroma of onion doesn’t subtract from the rich smell of the flowers that are in full bloom all over. It seems Jaskier just about managed to capture the right season for his visit. Colour explosions burst to every side as far as his human eye can see. He is not here for those though, he is here for a very particular flower, and he finds Filavandrel not among his peers, not in the caves that are hidden, interspersed in the jutting hills.

He finds Filavandrel on the edge of the Edge of the World, keeping watch over the valley atop a steep peak. The wind gently ripples through his hair and the beige cloak he wears over his clothes to blend in with his surroundings. His feet are bare, his stare solemn and distant, and Jaskier watches him from behind a boulder for half an eternity.

“Come out, bard. You need not hide nor cower before me ,” Filavandrel says eventually. His voice is soft, low, but the gale carries it to Jaskier’s ears as though the elf was standing right beside him. Jaskier’s heart picks up and he swallows before yielding his spot. He approaches Filavandrel from the side and sinks to one knee when they are mere feet apart, chin pressed to his sternum. To show his enduring respect and to get his facial muscles under control because his eyes prickle as though he’s going to cry again, but his lips want to slip into a grin and his nose itches. Filavandrel is a marvel, even forlorn and lost as he currently stands. Jaskier decides to strike the word beautiful from his vocabulary the moment that Filavandrel places a crooked index finger under his chin and bids him to look up.

The word ought to be reserved for the sight that greets Jaskier, and that sight alone. Filavandrel peers down at Jaskier from under hooded lids, his eyes dark and mysterious. His hair glows molten yellows and golds, tinged orange from the descending sun, and specks of that light dance on his pale cheeks. His long lashes cast shadows, his lips are parted ever so slightly, pink and wet. His throat is sinewy and strong, shifts with the long inhale he draws. Jaskier blushes, thinking that this is not a king, this is a god, and he should be captured in paint and music, and yet, each medium trying to depict his splendour would undoubtedly be a shallow caricature of the true beauty that is before Jaskier. He is about ready to swear an oath of servitude, but his voice fails him.  

“Why do you kneel?” Filavandrel asks, breaking the spell with the bitter undertone of suspicion his words carry. “I am not your king.”

“Common courtesy,” Jaskier says and rises to his feet, dusting off his breeches. Filavandrel merely raises a brow, then goes back to staring out at the crashing waves of flowers below. Jaskier takes it as an unspoken invitation to remain, to join him in gazing out at the world. It feels so small, so far away from up here. With bated breath he waits for Filavandrel to say something, anything. Where usually, Jaskier would burst from having too many words, he finds himself coming up short. How does one breech this topic?

‘Yes, hello, I’ve been having terribly crushing dreams from your perspective for the past month. Do tell why, if you please.’

That’s no good.

So, Jaskier waits. And Filavandrel gathers his words and speaks, still so softly, as though he doesn’t want to disturb the peace of Dol Blathanna with crude human words. Falling from his lips, they sound like small caresses, but they still break the clandestine atmosphere.

“What did you do with the life I spared?”

Jaskier glances sideways, gazes at Filavandrel’s set profile for a breath before he answers the question. This is something he has endless words for. How he travelled with Geralt and gained renown for both witcher and bard, how he returned to Oxenfurt to teach and research, start writing papers, and comments, and reviews, and essays, how he’s been trying to appreciate perspectives other than his own and has not been brilliant at it.

“… but first and foremost,” Jaskier concludes on a small smile. “I’ve been pouring my heart into song.” This time, Filavandrel doesn’t hesitate with his answer and his hands clench into fists at his sides, something which Jaskier did not anticipate.

“Tell me then, little scholar,” the elf says. His voice is lightning that crackles under Jaskier’s skin. “Are all of them as deceitful as the one you wrote about our army? Or do you only lie when it caters to the ideology of the masses?”

“Nothing quite so political, I assure you. I sing what I want,” Jaskier replies. If Filavandrel would just look at him, he might be able to read what Jaskier feels. No hostility, no inclination to cause harm. Yes, Toss A Coin was a selfish piece of writing, meant to entice and enthral, embellishing the events in order for it to spread more quickly, but Filavandrel has to realize that it was never meant at the expense of the elves. It was drama, poetry, a story.

“I see.” Jaskier jerks around, half his body turning at Filavandrel’s tingling laugh. What in Melitele’s name?

“Beg pardon?” he asks and finally, Filavandrel meets his eyes. His are pure mirth, lip curled in mischief. He is so fucking divine that Jaskier’s mouth dries up.

“You are a creature of selfish lust, then?”

“Quite,” Jaskier says, grinning and bows his head. He was right about one thing at least, right in his hunch that in the presence of Filavandrel, he would be reduced to a bashful eighteen-year-old boy who is unable to tear his eyes off anything even remotely pretty. With Filavandrel, he thinks he’ll find anyone else lacking.

Filavandrel opens his mouth to say something else, but right then, a hiss cuts through their amusement and they both whirl around to find that they are no longer alone. Someone has joined them, a massive man with a silver medallion gleaming atop his breast. In each hand he holds a knife and his teeth are bared in a growl, his head bald. Two swords, strapped to his back, gleam in the sun.

Oh fuck.

A witcher.

And he doesn’t seem in the mood for talking.

Jaskier’s body takes over for him and he builds himself up between the approaching figure and Filavandrel.

“Stop right there,” he says and mentally pats himself on the back for how steady his voice comes out. The witcher halts, staring at Jaskier with his head cocked and his form blots out the low-hanging sun. Jaskier stands his ground, arms and legs wide, but his only weapon is his glare, the set of his mouth. Don't, he thinks. Don't. They don't stand a chance. Geralt already has the capability to crush Jaskier's neck in a strong grip if he so wishes, this man looks like he could lift a leg and flatten Jaskier to the earth with one precise step. Filavandrel wouldn't fare much better even if he had steel on him. They are doomed.

“I’m here to kill a king,” the witcher says and his voice rattles like a cart full of armour being pulled across a cobbled street. “Step aside, human, and your life will be spared.”

“I will not.”

The witcher musters him for another long minute, then shrugs. Tucking one of his knives under his beefy bicep, he shoots out his hand. A blast of air hits Jaskier and he’s thrown backward into Filavandrel. They’re not close enough to the edge that they fall off, but the blow forces them to the ground. Jaskier is quick to get into a crouching position before the fallen king, arms open wide once more. The witcher approaches, his glare punctuating Jaskier’s resolve. But no, he will die if he must, die if it means preserving that which he cherishes so.

“Bard,” Filavandrel says under his breath. “You’re being foolish.”

“No such thing,” Jaskier replies. The witcher stomps ever nearer, blades raised, but before he can attack, a whirring noise fills the air and a dagger buries itself in the witcher’s left eye socket, buries itself to the hilt.

“HNNN FUCK,” the witcher yowls and pulls the knife out, casting it aside. He stumbles about blindly, his hands pressed to his face and Jaskier jumps to his feet. This is about the only opportunity they will have if they want to come out of this alive. He hurries over to the witcher and shoves. There is no way a bard like him has enough power to topple over a giant like this, but the witcher is already off-kilter and he doesn’t expect the push. He barely catches himself, still howling through his pain and Jaskier follows the few steps he takes backward and in doing so, gets caught by the flailing arm of the witcher. He winces as pain breaks out across the side of his face, but he pushes again.

The witcher teeters where the hill falls away sharply, and Jaskier has no time to think about how he’d rather not be hurting this man. He gives one last determined shove and with a yelp, the witcher tumbles over the edge and rolls down the mountainside in a cacophony of crashes and dust, branches breaking and rocks rolling after him. His cries fill the valley until, with a suddenness that is jarring, they stop.

Jaskier squeezes his eyes shut, panting hard. Fuck. Fuck, he might have just killed a man and he doesn’t feel guilty one bit. He is here to protect Filavandrel, he understands that now. Understands that that’s what the dream was about. To protect Filavandrel and to be his advocate. It’s an unsettling certainty, one that only Destiny can have created. Jaskier sighs, thinks up a silent prayer for the fallen man and mentally apologizes to Geralt for hurting one of his kin.

“That was an impressive showing of determination,” Filavandrel says. Jaskier opens his eyes again and squares his shoulder. The elf has picked up his dagger and is cleaning it on his cloak which he has pulled off to reveal a simple set of faded blue linen clothes. He looks at Jaskier, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth and Jaskier bows low.

“My king,” he says.

“Come with me.” A hand on his arm that tugs lightly. Jaskier’s blinks, but lets himself be guided by Filavandrel. “I know somewhere were we will not be interrupted again.”

---

Filavandrel’s rooms – which section off from the ones Geralt and Jaskier were held in last time – are barely more than a hollow in the mountains, furnished with a narrow cod and few planks of wood that have been nailed to the stone opposite it. The elf has Jaskier sit down on the hard straw mattress, then disappears for a short time to retrieve a wet cloth. “Who was he?” Jaskier asks when Filavandrel returns and crouches before him so that they are on eye-level. His face aches properly now and he suspects that a plethora of bruises is already blooming on the side the witcher caught with his fist.

“You are the one who congregates with witchers,” Filavandrel replies. Jaskier huffs indignantly. “I only really know one of them and we don't congregate so much as keep company.” “Really?” Filavandrel raises a brow as he dabs Jaskier's jaw with the cool cloth. It soothes some of the sting and he sighs. “Does that shock you? Geralt wouldn't let me touch him with a fishing rod,” Jaskier laughs. It’s not true exactly, they have touched of course. It is inevitable when travelling together, but the kind of touch they’re referring to has been strictly off the table. “How very unreasonable,” Filavandrel laughs and brushes back Jaskier's hair to access his forehead. His hands are gentle, his smile shy and Jaskier finds himself blushing. This is another Filavandrel altogether. Not the rageful king that almost had him and Geralt executed, nor yet the solemn figure atop the hill. He’s sweet and teasing. Oh, dear. “Tell me, little scholar, do you want to touch him?” “Are you asking me if I want to fuck him or if I have feelings for him?”

“Both. Either. No matter.”

“Ah… well, I find myself tempted ever so often, but the feeling does not endure and any sexual draw I feel to him is not worth risking the friendship we share. Of course, his attractiveness stands in no comparison to your beauty.” “It is a non-human fetish then?” Filavandrel asks. He wipes Jaskier’s forehead one more time, then puts aside the cloth. “Brought that upon myself, didn't I?” They both laugh, Jaskier shaking his head, Filavandrel privately, behind his hands. Jaskier wants to pry it away, wants every bit of that laugh for his eyes and ears to feast on, a remnant of the bells of the elven towers of old, wants this beauty, but for once in his life, Jaskier practices restraint. He basks in another few seconds of shared delight, then catches Filavandrel's gaze again. “Who hired that witcher?” “Doesn't matter who hired him, there's always a price on my head,” Filavandrel grumbles and Jaskier could kick himself for killing the light chirping laughter, for turning this conversation back to a serious avenue. But he had to, didn’t he? Because a witcher almost killed them both and the dreams are still in the forefront of his mind. “Always a price.” With that, the elf gets up and starts to pace the small perimeter of his room. Jaskier watches every step. "You can share your pain with me,” he offers. "So you can fashion pretty rhymes from it? No thank you. I will pay you in gold,” Filavandrel snaps, eyes distant now. So very changeable, strange for one so old. But Jaskier supposes that Filavandrel lives in extraordinary circumstances. "Pay me?" he asks weakly.

“That’s what you came here for, isn’t it? More… of us. More of our artefacts, our names, our stories, our emotions. More for you to accessorize and capitalize on, more to feed your disgustingly human greed with. I gave you your life and your lute and you stayed away for how long? Nigh on two decades. What will it take for the next two?”

Both elf and human glance at the lute that is propped up in the corner upon Filavandrel mentioning it. The instrument has survived the scrap without harm, not even a speck of dust on it. Jaskier’s fingers itch for it, but he folds them in his lap. Two decades, yes, twenty years in which he’s had time aplenty to think. Churn over the events of those days when Geralt was but a stranger and Filavandrel an enemy, an outlandish creature sprung straight from Jaskier’s lecture notes. Now, Geralt is Jaskier’s oldest friend and Filavandrel is… a god descended. A god that has been battered and beaten, treated like a dog. Fuck, but Jaskier is not here to uphold the tradition of exploitation and near-to-kin-slaying. He is here because after traversing the maze of his thoughts and closing the covers on his books, Jaskier cares. He cares, he treasures, he worships, he loves. He loves so much. Jaskier looks up at Filavandrel until the elf can’t help but return the gaze. His eyes are wide, wild.

"Have you had dreams of late?"  Jaskier asks simply.

A breath. And then: "What do you know of it?”

"Let me paint a picture for you, golden one, then you can decide what I have come here for.”

Filavandrel considers him, inclines his head a fraction as if to listen for the backstabs Jaskier is trying to veil with his words. The cavernous halls are eerily silent and finally, Filavandrel gestures for Jaskier to speak. Jaskier clears his throat.

“It is like this: You open your eyes and you stand upon the very hill we just got attacked on, all by yourself. Before you, you see a firmament in bleeding reds and yellows into which the grey ink of the end days has been spilled. At your feet, a vast desolation, hundreds turned to dust, obliterated by your hands, and it still does not satisfy your hatred for the humans. You feel as though upon your shoulders, you carry the weight of all those who have come before you, all those who are yet to perish. Each step you may take, in whatever direction, feels like the last. There is thunder in the distance, but it is not of this world. It rumbles off-key, distorted and cacophonous, and you try to catch that sound in your own throat to guess at its origin. You can’t. There are cries of woe also, just beyond the next peak, and you are determined to absolve those souls of their agony. You begin to walk, are weighed down, your limbs burn and your knees tremble. No matter how badly you try to reach that place from whence the pain stems, you make no progress. Your back aches so much, so fucking much. All you want is to lay down your crown and die. The world may well splinter and vaporize around you and still, duty would bind you to remain and see your people safely through the gates of heaven. You feel alone. So very alone,” Jaskier concludes, the last words naught more than a whisper. Tears stream down him his cheeks.

"How?" Filavandrel sobs and claps a hand over his mouth.

"Trade secret."

"Who are you?"

"A friend.”

“And what do you want from me?”

“To share some of your burden as I have been sharing in your dreams. To save your people.”

“There is no salvation for us, little scholar, none at all,” Filavandrel says, voice trembling.

“Filavandrel of the edge of the world,” Jaskier says and stands up. “Filavandrel of the pain of the gods.” He takes a step towards the dumbstruck elf. “Filavandrel the kind-hearted and trustworthy.” Another step. “Filavandrel of the old tragedies.” A foot separates them and Jaskier reaches out to gently cup Filavandrel’s jaw. “Filavandrel of the dawn of a new age.” He brings up his other hand, cradling the elf-king’s face in his lute-worn hands as though it is a precious piece of china. Jaskier smiles softly and wipes at Filavandrel’s tears with his thumbs. “Just take your pick and I will write you into the stream of history,” he finishes. Filavandrel squeezes his eyes shut.

“You don’t have that kind of power,” he says. “You simply cannot change our fate.”

“I can make you beloved. Immortal.” Jaskier leans closer, ever closer, but he doesn’t dare break the barrier between them, not when Filavandrel looks so very pained. More so when he softly utters his next words.

“That is what you don’t get. What would I be but an exception to prove the rule? Even if you turned the tide of human hatred in my favour, they’d still murder my kin and I would stand alone because I had been dubbed friend-of-men. You would make my dream turn reality.” “I don’t-“

“I do not begrudge you the ambition,” Filavandrel cuts in and the sun of a chuckle breaks through the heavy tapestry of clouds over his face. He shakes his head as his eyes flutter open, and one hand comes up to wrap around Jaskier’s wrist where’s he’s still cupping the elf’s cheeks. “I was perhaps wrong to judge you by the standards of your species when the crime you have committed is a rather personal one.”

“And what crime is that?”

“That fetish we spoke of, of course. Though I cannot tell whether your infatuation is genuine or whether you are but a magpie.” Jaskier's mouth feels dry and his gaze drops to the pretty curve of Filavandrel's lips. He lets go of his face, touches one of Filavandrel's silken curls and wraps it around his pinkie as he holds the king's gaze. He can’t think of a retort to that, not even an earnest one. "Is this your wit's end, little scholar? Is this where words fail you?" "Kiss me," Jaskier replies in a surge of confidence. It's insanity, even with the weird carnival of feelings they've gone through today. Insanity. It's also the right thing to say, apparently. Filavandrel leans closer and kisses him softly, holding onto Jaskier's shoulders and Jaskier reaches for the elf's hips to steady himself. He inhales sharply when Filavandrel deepens their kiss. The poet in Jaskier hoped he would taste like flowers or honey or sunshine or anything worth putting in a ballad. The romantic in Jaskier rejoices in how perfectly sweet and slow their kiss is, how they both close their eyes and lose themselves in the simplicity of the connection. The realist in Jaskier – and he is very quiet and small – knows this is fragile. A moment suspended in time and bound to pass. After a while, Filavandrel pulls back, a small smile playing about his features and he traces Jaskier's reddened lips with his thumb. "I could be your consort," Jaskier blurts out. Filavandrel laughs and steals another kiss. "The valley isn't entirely safe at night so you may stay until the morning," he says and lets go. "And after that?" "After that you return to your books and your songs and your witcher." "And you?" "I will try to make sense of these dreams. I will find a way for my people to survive. And I will cherish the sentiments you offered, useless though they may be. Come now, little scholar, come to bed." 

[darkmulti]

Lose Control

Stalker!San x female reader

⚠️Warnings: violence, aquaphilia, choking, degradation, overstimulation, drowning, spitting, unprotected sex, yandere behaviour, slapping, spanking,

Please read at your own risk!

——————————————————————————

San’s Point of View

“Don’t worry San, you look so handsome! I’m sure she’ll say yes when she see’s you all dressed up.”

His grandmother goes over to San and fixes his collar while San puts on his last ring. The freshly picked flowers lay on the table as he gathered up all the confidence in his body. He was going to ask out his long time crush Y/N. San had liked her for quite some time, but never told anyone except for his grandmother.

He could go on and on about her and his grandma was always there to listen. She always encouraged San to confess to Y/N, but each time he would back out at the last minute. Well not today. Hopefully. He was tired of watching her sleep. He wanted to sleep with her. Cuddle against her small little body. Take her into his arms, and make her feel like she was the only girl in the world.

But he couldn’t.

But maybe that could all change today.

Key word: Maybe

He hugs his grandmother and thanks her for everything. He grabs the bouquet of flowers, and lavishly walks out of the door.

He gets into his car and drives to the university to ask you out after your class. His palms were sweating on the steering wheel and his face started to warm up.

What if, what if you say no? Embarrassing scenarios play in his mind, and he almost wanted to turn the car around and bail out.

San takes a deep breath in and gives himself a pep talk,

“I am Choi San! I can do this!”

He pulls into a parking spot and gets out of the car. With the flowers in hand, he locks his car and makes his way to the entrance.

As soon as he walked in, the atmosphere changed. All eyes were on him. The sudden change of look made everyone’s jaw drop. He was minding his own business until one of the girls that used to bully him came up to him.

“Are those flowers for me?”

“Not these ones sweetheart. I can buy you a cactus so you can shove it up your ass.”

“Funny Choi San. Who are they really for?”

“For my cock. Mind your own business lady.”

San walks past her, feeling a sense of relief now that he’s told her off. She was the reason why everyone was creeped out by him, including Y/N. He had a tremendous amount of hate towards her. But it was understandable.

The nervous man had made it to her class, only to see that it was empty. He checked the working spaces nearby and his eye finally catches her working alone. His hand dusts off his shirt and he starts walking towards her.

“Uh hi, Y/N.”

“Oh, hey San!”

“I w-wanted to ask you if- if you w-would like to go out sometime? I-I brought you flowers.”

He hands the girl the freshly picked flowers and waits for her response.

“There’s no easy way to say this San. But I’m dating someone right now. I’m truly flattered and I would love to be friends, but I have a boyfriend.”

She looked at him with sincere eyes, trying her best to let him down easy.

“O-oh. I had no idea. I’m sorry. I’m actually gonna go now.”

San quickly exits the scene before bursting out into tears. He should’ve trusted his gut, because now you’re with someone else. He quickly wipes away the tears and walks back to the car.

“Where are you going, Choi San? I see the flowers are gone. Who did they go to?”

“Like I said before mind your own business.”

“What? Did she reject you? It’s okay honey. I’m here now. I like this new ‘bad boy’ attitude. It’s hot.”

San turns around and pushes the girl against the wall. Without thinking it through, he rips her shirt revealing her bra and roughly kisses her. His tongue slides into her mouth and their saliva exchanges in the hot make out. San grabs her bra and rips it down exposing her tits in front of everyone. He then pulls away, spits out the saliva and leaves the half naked girl.

Angrily San goes home and does research on Y/N again. His grandmother frantically knocks on his door continuously, hoping that he was okay.

“Grams, please leave me alone. Just for a little while, please!”

San was frustrated. He could be violent, but never towards his grandmother. To avoid putting her in danger he locks himself in his room and cry’s his broken heart out.

———

Y/N’s Point of View

I was walking back to my locker hand in hand with my boyfriend. He was such a kind and generous soul, I felt so lucky to have him. Although he’s all I think about 24/7, San still was floating around at the back of my mind. He hasn’t come back to school in 3 days and I was genuinely getting concerned. Thinking that it was my fault, I question myself.

Was I too harsh?

Maybe I should’ve offered him to sit with us.

I felt guilty of course.

He was creepy, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. What if he comes after me?

I quickly slip in the embrace of my boyfriend, feeling a little scared.

“What’s wrong baby?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have thrown the flowers away.”

“Why? Do they mean something to you Y/N?”

“No, I just feel bad.”

“Well don’t feel bad. I’m your boyfriend not him.”

I reach my locker and open it up, only to be suprised by a cute, pink note. I turn to my boyfriend and ask him,

“Did you do this?”

With a bright smile glued across my face.

“No.”

“Stop playing. That’s so cute!”

“Y/N it wasn’t me. I was with you this whole time.”

Reality hit me like a brick. He was right. He drove me to school and I had all my classes with him.

“Do you think it’s-”

“I will kill Choi San if he doesn’t back off.”

My boyfriend punches the locker door, startling me.

“Relax. He’s probably trying to get over me. Let him do what he has to do. I’ll be with you no matter what.”

I give him a reassuring smile and he pulls me in a deep, passionate kiss.

“Okay babe. I’ll see you later, I got practice.”

“See ya.”

I sigh and lean against my locker. I pick the note up and read it,

“I love you. I love you so much. You don’t know how long I’ve loved you for. I love everything about you. Your hair, face, body, personality. I love everything. If you can just give me the chance, please. I love you Y/N please. I will do anything for the love of my life. I want you to have my kids. Although we are young right now, I want you to be the mother of my kids and I want us to get married and have a life together. Without you I’m nothing. But fear not my love, I will always take care of you. I can show you the world. You can always be in my warm embrace. Please let me pleasure you. I will do anything for my one and only love. You are made for me and I am made for you. Please expect my love~ p.s I cummed on the gym shirt that you’re probably wearing right now.”

That’s why it felt so sticky. I rip the note up and throw it in the recycling. I grab my backpack and leave, trying to remain calm because he could be here.

———-

11:34pm

San’s Point of View

After crying for days, he finally stops and faces reality. He has to get rid of him. But how?! He puts on a new outfit and sneaks out the window. He promised himself that he won’t come back unless that man is out of her life for good.

He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the address to his house. He puts in the address on the ‘maps’ app and heads over to the man's house.

San knew this routine. His research showed that the man lived alone, with 3 cats. San gets out of his car, like it was another night and breaks into the lock. It was too easy. He got inside the house and went upstairs to the man's room.

There he was. Sleeping peacefully, like he totally wasn’t going to get murdered. San grabs the belt that was hanging on a hook, and makes his way over to the unaware man. He smoothly slides the belt underneath his neck and in no time, jumps on top of him and pulls on the belt, strangling him.

The man rapidly taps on San’s thighs and he loosens it. San was indeed a psychopath, but not a murder.

“Stay away from Y/N! This is your only warning, or I’ll strangle you and all your cats understand? I want you to text Y/N that you're breaking up with her. Then I want you to block her number and her social media accounts. By tomorrow morning I want you out of this city. If you dare call the police, I will make your life a living hell and I stick with my words, understand?”

The horrified man nods and immediately pulls out his phone and breaks up with her over text. He shows San and San gets off of him with a satisfied smirk.

“Thanks for cooperating. I thought that I had to kill someone.”

San causally leaves and pets one of the cats on his way out. He gets into his car and speeds to your house only a couple blocks away.

———

Your Point of View

What a way to end the night. The window was half open, letting in the cold breeze in, while my body sat in hot water. I was enjoying an episode of ‘Grey's Anatomy’ until the power shut off. The T.V being the main source of light, the bathroom was now pitch black besides the street lamp outside that was making my bathroom glow, just a little bit. Thinking that the power will come back on, I wait in the tub and splash around in the water.

That was until a figure from the window lunges towards me and splashes into the water. I let out a high pitched scream and tried my best to get out of the tub, but the bigger figure held me down.

I kept squirming underneath them, trying to escape, until I felt something unordinary. It felt like a dick. I yell out again until a hard slap slants my face to the right.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU CUNT!”

San finally got the girl he had desired for pinned underneath him. She couldn’t escape.

“SAN WHAT THE FUCK? LET GO OF ME!”

I splash the water and get it in his eyes. Hurriedly l push him off of me and get out of the bathtub. I was so close to my phone until he pulled me back by my hair.

I scream at him to let me go. He bends me over the bathroom counter and makes me look in the mirror.

“NO! YOU FUCKING CUNT LOOK AT YOURSELF! LOOK AT YOUR DIRTY, USED PUSSY. THIS PUSSYS SUPPOSE TO BE MINE! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU-”

He lets go of my hair and punches the wall in anger, leaving a hole. He then comes back to you and cups your face.

“Do you love me?”

He whispers.

“I-I”

The girl stutters because she was stunned by the question and the sudden personality change.

“Of course you fucking don’t!”

San growls at the girl and pushes her onto the bathroom counter. The girl however wasn’t scared. She knew it was wrong, but had a hidden desire for the man as well. Ever since he gave her those flowers, something in her changed. In a way she wanted this.

Before San could make the next move, she wraps her arm around his neck and lays her lips on his. San stood there, wide eyed, not realizing what was happening.

Adrenaline pumps inside their body’s, as their lips mold together. San grinds his tip on the girls wet opening, making her moan. He picks her up and places her on the floor. Her legs get placed on his shoulders putting her in perfect position.

San smashes his lips on hers one more time, practically swallowing her tongue and slowly thrusted in.

“ooh fuck, baby you’re so big!”

The girl under him moans and arches her back at the sudden stretch. His large, firm dick, wasn’t fully inside of her, but she could already cry from it.

“You like that babygirl? This is your first time fucking a real man. Fuck! You have such a sweet, tight cunt ready to be destroyed by me. By your daddy.”

San pushes in his entire dick making her scream. He then pulls it and slams right back in; making the vulnerable girl cry out of pleasure. San pushes her head down and starts pounding himself into her. Releasing all the stress, pain and heartbreak she had caused all these past few years.

His hand wraps around her throat and he starts going even harder into her. One hand on her throat while the other pushed down on her stomach so he could feel his own cock thrusting into her.

“AHHHHHH! DADDY PLEASE HOLY SHIT MY PUSSSY! OW FUCK DADDY!”

The girl becomes a sensitive mess under the man. He already had such a great control of her already, she would do anything to please him.

“Fuck darling. You’re making me Lose Control”

San cock grew angrier and he started thrusting into her furiously. Her tiny hand holds his muscular arm and lets him do whatever, because she feels on top of the world.

“AHHH, FUCK FUCK FUCK!”

Her buttcheeks clench and her walls tremble around his cock. Her cum rushes out covering San’s cock.

“Who told you that you can cum?”

“No one daddy.”

“Tsk tsk tsk, such a bad little girl you are.”

He picks her sensitive state up and places her on all fours, giving her the bathtub ledge to hold onto.

“OWIE!”

Y/N pouts as she feels a burning sensation on her buttcheek. He spreads her ass cheeks out so he can observe the stretched out pussy. He spits on it and slowly thrusted his cock again.

He grabs her hair away from her face and pulls her head back. The sounds of wet, skin slapping was a turn on for both. It made San roll his eyes, knowing that it was his balls slapping against her pussy. Wanting it to be louder he pushes her head down into the water and makes it clap louder and louder.

The girl screams under the water and the air bubbles come up, amusing San. He pulls her hair back and she comes up trying to catch her breath. Her hair splashes water on his face, collarbone and abs, making it a delicious sight to see.

“Hold your breath babygirl.”

She takes a deep breath in before San pushes her head down and fucks the life out of her. She taps on the tub not being able to hold her breath anymore and San yanks her out. He lets her lean back on his body, and turns her face towards him and gives her another nasty kiss.

“Let’s go in the water.”

His arms wrap around the panting mess, and he sits down in the tube. Her head lays on his chest until he said,

“Ride me princess.”

She weakly pushes herself up and holds the sides of the bathtub. San hands come to her hips to guide her. The girl's hips started grinding on his hard cock, and before she knew it she was bouncing on his cock.

San enjoyed the sight of your tits bouncing. He pulls your body closer and marks your breast so the sight can be even better. Dark purple hickeys were scattered all over your chest, and you grab onto his shoulder and start moaning in his ear.

“Daddy! You make me feel so good. Fuck, daddy! Your cock is so big, it’s making me feel so good!”

You cuddle your face into his neck, while the water kept splashing out of the tub. Being turned on by your words, San grabs your hips and rams up into you, creating waves in the water. Your pussy twitches at the overstimulation, causing tears to form in your eyes.

He gives you one more aggressive thrust before both of you release is the bath water.

“OHH FUCK DADDY! OH IT FEELS SO GOOD!”

I throw my head back as San starts playing with my clitoris. With his fingers still massaging the sensitive bud, he takes me out of the bath and places me on the floor for one more round.

San didn’t hesitate to take me again. His fingers wrap around my neck and press down. He started thrusting into me again because if he waited any longer his cock would’ve exploded. His hand rubs my clit up and down while he pounds into my swollen pussy. He then stops and hovers over your face and licks it.

“FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK IM GONNA CUM. SAN I'M GONNA CUM PLEASE DON’T STOP PLEASE!”

I beg him, almost over the edge.

“IF YOU DON'T WANT ME TO STOP TELL ME YOU’RE MINE!”

“AHHHH FUCK IM YOURS IM YOUR I BELONG TO YOU. FUCKKK FUCKK PLEASE BABY!”

I become a sobbing mess as my orgasm reaches, pushing me over the edge. I felt a warm wave go from my clitoris up to my chest, making me shake uncontrollably. I whimper under San, with my wet hair sticking to my face and the floor. All of a sudden my cum splatters all over his long cock, making me moan louder. My legs wrap around his tiny waist and I try to recover from the best orgasm of my life.

“OH FUCK BABY THAT WAS SO HOT. LOOK AT YOU SHAKING UNDER ME.”

San thrust his angry tip into me one more time, directly hitting your gspot. He cums in me and I cum around him one more time.

San immediately picks my sobbing figure up and rocks me back and forth trying to calm me down.

“Shh, darling you’re okay. You’re okay.”

He kisses my wet forehead and takes me back to my bed.

He cleans me up and puts me in a fresh pair of pyjamas. He takes some of my now ex boyfriends clothes and wears them.

He cuddles next to me in bed and pulls my body close to his.

“I love you.”

“I love you too San.”

“Wait really?”

Sans eyes sparkles and he looks like an excited puppy.

“Yes really.”

I giggle at his cuteness

“Well I love you more.”

He squeezes my body and lays gentle kisses on my neck and making me fall asleep.

——————————————————————————

Point of views were messy, but i was just trying to figure out which one i liked the most.  this was a request 

Edited🔐

Xoxo, N❣️

[finn-ray-nal-beads]

I JUST GOT HOME FROM WORK AND SAW YOUR POST SO I HOPE I SENT THIS IN IN TIME, BUT DADDY!CLYDE TRAINING HIS BABYGIRL TO LACTATE WITHOUT BEING PREGNANT (BECAUSE THAT IS 100% A CLYDE KINK) AND BEING SO PROUD OF HER WHEN SHE FINALLY STARTS PRODUCING AND HE CANT STOP SUCKING ON HER TITS. OKAY LOVE YOU BYEEE!!❤️❤️

@clydesfavoritegirl SO, I HAVE BEEN WRACKING MY BRAIN ABOUT THIS AND I HAVE A WIERD THOT ABOUT IT. 

So, little fun facts about Sara, I have had a baby (she’s five now), I breastfed for about a year (very hard to keep up), and I have also donated my eggs for other people to have babies in the future. All of this mentioned above is not easy to accomplish and requires patience and willpower to do. 

Any way you have a child is valid no matter which avenue you are given in life. If you want kids by all means have them, if you don’t that’s totally and completely fine. If you want to use formula to feed them, do it queen all the power to you, the same goes for breastfeeding. Adoption is just as important as shooting baby out yourself and surrogates are true angels in my eyes. I had not considered this lactation thing until I did research on it, because I really wanted to know if it was possible to accomplish, and it is. 

Upon my research I saw that it takes months and months of hormone therapy to produce milk without being pregnant and even then, doctors prescribe it for couples adopting and or trying surrogacy for new babies coming into the family. SO, that being said, I can twist this into maybe Clyde and yourself looking at adopting or using a surrogate for a child, and you want to try to breastfeed them because you want to bond with your new baby. And of course Clyde is ALL about it because anything that makes you happy and comfortable!

PLEASE INDULGE MY THOTS ON OUR SOUTHERN BELL CLYDE AND HIS INEVITABLE LACTATION KINK.... 

**I’m gonna put warnings on here because it mentions some heavy stuff (plz don’t read if you are triggered by any of this): Infertility, hormone therapy, angst, depression, adoption, and surrogacy**

“Baby girl?” Clyde calls from the living room, his nose deep in the baby books you both had purchased over the months of trying to start your big happy family, fumbling though his phone at the same time.

“What’s goin’ on big bear?” you chime, busy fixing yourself up in the mirror after a relaxing shower to wash the sex from your skin after a session with big daddy. 

Adjusting you hair, wincing as you lifted your arms, “Jesus,” groaning out, feeling the soreness from your heaving breasts as they felt like concrete on your chest. 

_______________

Ever since you'd begun the injections and pills, your body was hating life. The raging hormone cocktails running through your bloodstream causing every single emotion to emit from your body at once. 

You’d be happy and cheery one second, followed by crying in your shared bed under the sheets in the fetal position, and finally raging about the fact that the TV was turned too damn loud in the other room, when it all actuality it was the same level you’d always kept it at. 

No matter the tears and agony, Clyde and yourself took all of this one day at a time, just as you had when you found out that children may not be a possibility when it came to the old fashion way of doin’ it. The pain was so hard to bear that day. You cried and cried, locking yourself away from the world as you cursed whomever was in charge of your fate, feeling like less of a woman the more the days droned on. 

It took a few months for you to smile again, Clyde painstakingly trying to solve your problems with everything under the sun, reading books, catering to your needs, holding you when you sobbed yourself to sleep over your vacancy. 

Cradling you when you felt like less of a person for not being able to accomplish one simple thing you’d both hoped for in the future. He’d hush your tears away, forcing you into him as he felt you shudder during the night, silent tears falling from his face as he prayed for some kind of sign or solution to all of this. 

Then it all fell into place one day. Clyde was working his ass off during the nights, leaving you to stew about things at home, which inevitably led you to the internet. 

You looked up all kinds of solutions, message boards talking about infertility, therapies, injections, adoption, and surrogacy. All of them possible in your eyes if it played out like it had for the folks at the various agencies you’d looked up. Finally, a glimmer of hope in this shit-storm of uncertainty, as you glanced over the testimonials and pictures of various families, so happy with their children healthy and happy. 

“This is it,” you had muttered under your breath, a flutter from deep in your stomach causing tears to well up in your eyes as you thought about Clyde and you taking home a sweet new addition. 

You’d brought it up to him immediately upon entering the house at and ungodly hour, to which you were scolded by your big bear after you’d made your sales pitch to him. 

“I think it sounds perfect baby girl,” he cooed as you both laid in bed that night, caressing your sweat sheened skin after a good punishing from his cock, “if ya want ta do it, m’ happy with anything ya want,” whispering as he felt you sink into him to relax for the first time in months. 

“I jus’ wanna make ya happy to big bear,” kissing his thick chest as you inhaled his musk, “I think this is the way we can have that family we want,” ghosting your lips up his sternum as he sighed into your touch. 

“Mhmm,” he embraced you further, “I’ll adopt as many babies as ya want honey. Yer jus’ gonna be the best momma regardless,” hearing your light cries in the quiet of the darkened bedroom. 

“T-thank you big bear,” you strained out, still hiding in his neck as the tears spilled, “I can’t wait ta make ya a real daddy finally,” gripping the back of his neck as you fell into another chorus of cries. 

_____________

“What’s up?” your v-neck t-shirt straining on your heaving tits, the bra you’d picked certainly not fitting you as the days went on and on. 

“I think I found the pump ya were wantin’,” he gulped, seeing the peaches poking through your top half as you bent forward to look at the contraption he’d found. 

“Oh ya!” you jumped slightly, your tits bouncing in a ripple at your excitement, causing Clyde to salivate at the sight. 

“Thank ya big bear!” jumping into his lap as you pulled him to you, kissing his cheeks as he buried his face in your pillows, running his thick hands over your sweatpants. 

“A-anythin’ fer ma baby girl,” he panted, burying his prominent nose deeper into your rock hard tits, “Gah damn yer so juicy darlin’,” lifting his head to place pecks all over the tops of them. 

“Ya like ma milky titties baby?” biting your lip as he started sucking a mark over the soft skin, “ya wanna taste a mama’s milk?” cooing in his ear as he moaned into his make out session with your chest, rubbing his head to press it further in the valley of them. 

“Ya think they’re finally full baby girl?” he glanced up, his eyes glimmering with love and lust in the same gaze. You pet his precious face, the hopeful look only making this more special as he’d been helping you with your injections since you’d gotten the go ahead from the doctor and the agency. 

“I think so daddy,” feeling them tense up at your words, the soreness pulsing all the way to both nipples as you tried to avoid making faces in front of him. He helped you remove your fresh top, exposing your lacy bra, the skin popping out with colored veins, gravid from the fullness of them. 

“Fuck me,” he drooled, reaching behind to undo the clasp, eyes widening even further when he saw them perked up out of their hiding spot. The nipples taut and ready for his lips to suck on at his leisure. 

“Ya look so damn perty baby girl,” raising his hand to grip the skin, feeling how heavy they were on your chest, “ya want daddy ta see if they’re ready ta go?” practically begging as he ran a thumb over the sensitive nipple. 

You reared your head back at the slight touches he made, “please daddy,” whining as he watched you fall apart from his motions, “suck on my tits big bear,” shoving your chest closer to his waiting mouth as he inhaled deep, a growl brewing as he went to latch his pink lips on your areola. 

“Mother fuck!” you cried out, the pleasure releasing from your throat as he sealed himself on your tit, massaging the sore skin as he coaxed the sweet liquid to fall from it. 

He vacuum sealed his lips, sucking lightly at first, feeling you writhe and find the back of his to grip his mane, pushing him further into your warm skin. 

“O-oh g-god baby,” you moaned out, feeling a burning feeling build in your boob that felt both uncomfortable and welcoming as he sped up his jaw on your nipple. 

“Mhmmmm,” he whined out, feeling the body temperature liquid seep from your tit, coating the insides of his mouth in a warm embrace as he sucked more and more. 

Just then, you felt your other tit release a trickle of fluid, the stream of white beautiful in contrast to your skin as you glanced down in awe and pleasure. The cement block feeling escaping as Clyde sucked down your sweet nectar. 

“Oh f-fuck d-daddy,” you gasped, a mixture of elation leaving your body, “I-I’m l-leakin’,” you winced out, feeling Clyde let up on your boob, picking his head up to reveal a white sheen covering his lips and part of his mustache. 

“That ya are darlin’,” he eyes completely dilated as he looked over at your stream sliding down the underside of your neglected tit, making its way down your stomach in a perfect line, “yer doin’ such a good job baby girl.” 

Gripping the other tit in his large hand, coaxing the nipple into his mouth sucking your sweetness down in a frenzy. Your hand massaging the back of his head as you arched your back into his motions, feeling a huge relief as he emptied your other aching tit. 

He lifted his head in a gasp, wiping his mouth from the mess he’d made, watching as your sultry eyes bored into him. The both of you panting and elated at the hard work it had taken to accomplish this huge step. 

“Ya perfect, baby girl,” inching his lips to yours as you tasted your milk in his mouth, sighing into his tongue wrapping around yours. 

He pulled away for a moment, the noticeable bulge in his jeans ever present as he fulfilled his fantasies he’d had since he’d met you, “I don’t think m’ gonna be able ta keep up with these tits though as much as I’d like ta suck on ‘em fer every damn meal,” giggling as he lowered his mouth to your neck, sucking more marks on the skin as you mewled under him. 

“Don’t worry big bear,” you purred, gripping his hair again, arching yourself into his lips, “ya can help me when I get that pump we saw,” feeling him smirk under your neck at the prospect of him watching that show. 

“But fer now,” you lifted him by the ears to gaze into his precious eyes, “I think mama needs ta take care a daddy,” gesturing to his now tented erection. 

“Please mama,” he begged, watching you get up from your spot to curl and index finger as you backed into your bedroom again for round two. 

___________

God I hope I did this ask alright for you honey! Thank you for sending it in so I could learn something from it, as well as indulge in this juicy Clyde thot!

oneshot taglist: @maybe-your-left, @safarigirlsp, @clydesfavoritegirl, @emeraldsiren20, @thepalaceofmelanie, @bpdbensoloblog, @hopeamarsu, @caillea

🖤,

ray-nal-beads 

[itsevanffs]

rage, rage?

My,,, war fic, yes. (Hi sorry for the wait)

I, uh, did delete like half of the outline since I posted the original post you probably got this from (and I might start over completely because i’m an idiot) BUT I’ll tell you what’ll stay the same :D ...the age gap (23 years) That’s it. Probably asjdshd

Ok, I’m kidding. It’s a muggle au, war fic, Tom is either a terrorist or a home terrorist (I can’t quite decide yet) and his goal is to go independent from whichever country I decide he’ll be based in (Britain or the USA, nothing else). It’ll probably be based in the past (the 1960s look so good but I’m personally having issues with the pesky thing called the Civil Rights Movement, especially should I base it in America (more playing ground). It’s a big thing and I’m not the right person to describe it, a white person with too much time on his hands and an attention span of ‘it interests me, 3 straight weeks, it doesn’t, 3 straight seconds’ so I might make it earlier? 50s, 40s. I do like the cars.) and a LOT of research will go into it. On the one hand I do sincerely hope that once I’m halfway through it the MI6 or FBI or whoever will start contacting me and demanding what I know because that means I write well, but on the other having to prove that it’s all inference and that I didn’t, in fact, steal army strategy plans or layouts of certain areas would be quite a hassle.

(Yes, it has happened to others.)

...while googling instances, I found that the FBI is willing to help writers accurately portray them, and have been doing so since the 1930s. This is fantastic fucking news, my day has been made, I sincerely hope MI6 extends the same courtesy. Gods, what a gorgeous world we live in. I’m literally ecstatic.

I digress. So, where Tom is a (home) terrorist, Harry is a newbie soldier in the army of whichever country they’re based in. They meet before they both slot in their respective roles, though, and while Harry leaves oblivious, Tom leaves with an enormous crush grudge. This, once they’re both active in their respective factions, this translates into a desire to make Harry Tom’s equal and opposite, so to speak, so Tom arranges it that Harry becomes the Big Power behind the counter-movement to his own so he can defeat him in a spectacular way. Of course, things don’t work out exactly as planned, and they fall in -fairy noises- l o v e. -fairy noises-

As I stated earlier, there are several ways this could play out. I’d say you simply have to sit back and enjoy anything that comes around. I can give you a snippet or two, but no promises that the end result will look anything like this.

Harry steeled his jaw, and Tom, seeing this, pulled back just in time to avoid their heads colliding painfully as Harry threw his head forward. Harry clearly hadn't anticipated him avoiding his attack, so they stayed there for a few, long seconds, harsh breaths intermingling, the smell of mint and blood mixing to something gruesomely sweet in Tom's nose. Tom's eyes wandered over the small dips in Harry's skin where scars criss-crossed over the pale expanse, following a thin white line that reminded the world of the gruesome split lip Harry had carried for weeks after the first time Tom attacked, and down to his mouth.

Then Harry tried again, and Tom only tilted his head this time, so that their lips pressed together clumsily with a bruising force. Instinctively, Tom closed his eyes, exhaling sharply through his nose, his hand raising to the back of Harry's head and trapping him in place with a strong grip. The blood rushing in his ears almost drowned out the surprised, protesting noise Harry made. Tom shifted, resting his knee on the chair, next to Harry's thigh, and deepened the kiss, mouthing at Harry's lower lip. Harry opened his mouth, presumably to protest, but Tom simply took advantage of it and traced the sharps of Harry's teeth with his tongue. When Tom finally leaned back, he felt Harry following, and gave in once again, seeing through his eyelashes that Harry's eyes had shut too before their lips reconnected and his mind went blank except for the motions. Harry sighed softly into Tom's mouth and Tom traced the tip of his tongue gently against Harry's in reply. His mouth felt cold against Tom's, and was tinged with a metallic taste that could only be blood.

The fic will be based on two poems: Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night by Dylan Thomas, which represents Tom’s side of the story, and Bayonet Charge by Ted Hughes, representing Harry’s side of the story. I’ll include both under the cut. A random fact, while we’re at it: Bayonet Charge is my favourite poem of all times. I adore everything about it.

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night. Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Bayonet Charge

Suddenly he awoke and was running- raw In raw-seamed hot khaki, his sweat heavy, Stumbling across a field of clods towards a green hedge That dazzled with rifle fire, hearing Bullets smacking the belly out of the air - He lugged a rifle numb as a smashed arm; The patriotic tear that had brimmed in his eye Sweating like molten iron from the centre of his chest, -

In bewilderment then he almost stopped - In what cold clockwork of the stars and the nations Was he the hand pointing that second? He was running Like a man who has jumped up in the dark and runs Listening between his footfalls for the reason Of his still running, and his foot hung like Statuary in mid-stride. Then the shot-slashed furrows

Threw up a yellow hare that rolled like a flame And crawled in a threshing circle, its mouth wide Open silent, its eyes standing out. He plunged past with his bayonet toward the green hedge, King, honour, human dignity, etcetera Dropped like luxuries in a yelling alarm To get out of that blue crackling air His terror’s touchy dynamite.

[sarah-writes-marvel]

Imposter (2/2): Avengers x gn!Reader

S.S: sorry about the wait on this second part, havent had a lot of motivation to do much for a while. Im not sure how much I like this ending but I hope yall like it!

p.s::: Also, I write these as my own character first so if there are mentions of an OC let me know so I can fix it so everyone can enjoy!

Warnings: Angst, language, nothing else I dont think...

Word count: 1449

MASTERLIST  Pt1

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My door slammed behind me as rage fumed from my being.

“What a bitch.” I muttered moving to my bathroom and stripping from my sweaty clothes and turning on the shower.

The lukewarm shower felt nice against my hot skin, creating a calming effect. It was nice. Relaxing almost. Until a sudden pounding at my door broke the peace.

“What!” I yelled, not bothering to get out of the shower not really caring who was there, just the fact that they interrupted my relaxation.

“Y/N, open the door we need to talk! Now!” Tony’s distinct voice called through the door. Mumbling a few curses as I reluctantly stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my torso and opening my bedroom door to an angry looking Tony and Steve face of disappointment.

“Im kinda busy, what do you want?” I asked.

“What the hell did you say to Brooke? She's in tears.” Tony barked, eliciting an eyeroll.

“What a drama queen.” I mumbled under my breath.

“The hell did you say?” Tony said, gripping my wrist. I glared at him ripping my wrist from his hand.

“I said she’s a drama queen. Get over it.” I said clearly. “I told her that I didn’t trust her. I have the right not to trust someone who has been a part of Shield for the last 4 years, just come out about her powers.” I restated the conversation from earlier.

“Why would you say that to her? She's just trying to fit in.” Steve said in a sad sympathetic tone.

“Well, she seems to have fit in quite well, now hasn’t she.” I sent the two a fake smile “I’m going back to my shower.” I closed the door, ignoring the pounding knocks on the door as I walked back to my shower. 

The pounding against my door finally ceased and I got out a few minutes afterwards, changing to sweats and a loose shirt. 

I ran my finger through my tangled hair as I made my way to the kitchen to grab something to eat. As soon as I turned into the living room, the team was there coddling to the sniffling Brooke on the couch.

“Seriously, you’re still crying? It’s been an hour and a half.” I scoff at the sight, eyes all turning to me, looks of rage across each face.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Are you trying to be an asshole or something?” Sam questioned, standing from his seat and making his way towards me.

“I’m just trying to show you that not everything is as it seems.” I sneered peering at Brooke over his shoulder.

“You’re a monster.” She whimpered quietly.

“Then maybe you should watch yourself. Monsters are dangerous.” I mocked moving past Sam to the kitchen. 

Suddenly the quiet room went into chaos as Brooke stood up, placing her hand onto my clothed shoulder turning me to face her. Her hand still on my shoulder I took her wrist into my hand, tightening the grip.

A collective gasp came from the group, many standing from their spots on the couch. Brooke's eyes widened, frozen in shock before she realized that she was supposed to collapse right about now. As soon as I felt her knees buckle, falsely, I gripped her shoulders.

“Don’t play games with me. Don't ever, ever think you’re capable of that.” I chided, staring into her brown eyes.

Her mouth opened like a fish out of water, still in shock that her facade had been broken.

“I saw who you are. You really are a monster. The people you killed, families, innocent children.” She said, loud enough for the Avengers to hear, thinking she was really doing something. And she was, her words got under my skin. 

“Oh ya? What else did you see? How I killed them? How I watched each of their souls leave their body before I determined it was a completed mission?” I sneered, seeing the tears in her eyes.

“You killed so many.” she whimpered pathetically.

“Do you know why?” I asked, truly testing her. Noone really knew the reason behind my mercenary days, they believed that I had been manipulated like Bucky and forced into it. Which was accurate if you looked at it sideways and squinted.

“You were manipulated. You were under Hydra’s control.” she stated confidently, tears still evident in her eyes. Another false. 

“Bravo, you've read my file.” I smirked, “I was never manipulated into anything. And It wasn't Hydra, it was called The Mist.” 

Brooke’s eyes widened, being caught in her lie, tears dripping down her cheeks. She took a timid step back, which I responded with taking a step towards her.

“Believe me, I've brushed against your skin plenty of times before this. If your powers were true you would be curled up on the floor in unconsolable tears right now.” I remarked.

I looked over her shoulder to the Avengers standing guard, Tony looking through archives coming across a secret file under my name. “You really should have done your research before coming after me.” I directed to Brooke looking at her again.

“Well, I’m sure now that your true past has been exposed they don't want anything to do with you anyways, considering how awful you really were.” Brooke sneered.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t want to have someone untrustworthy on the team.” I started. “But I’ve proven myself trustworthy enough times to show that I’m not some bitch trying to wiggle her way into the Avengers.”

“I’ve been loyal to them, showed them they could trust me.” she argued her defenses high.

“I’m sure you have, every time you told them something from their past, something that could be found within a file.” I countered. “Every time you touched someone, even though you supposedly avoided contact, just so one of the guys could catch you and coddle you.” I moved towards her, causing her to step backwards. “Every mission that someone had to come to your aid because you couldn't handle fighting like an Avenger.” 

Her legs hit the couch and her knees buckled causing her to fall into the cushions. I planted myself in front of her, towering over her terrified figure.

“Your nothing but a liar. You’re not Avenger material, and after this scheme you're not even worth being a SHIELD agent.” I sneered. Her brown eyes widened as tears threatened to spill. 

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” she muttered quietly.

“God! You really don't know when you’ve lost do you? Get over yourself. You lost. You don't deserve a spot on this team or in this organization. Get out before I do something I might regret.” I emphasized. 

At that she leapt up from the couch and retreated to her room, packed her bags and ran through the compound exiting the doors.

“Friday, call Fury. Tell him we have a stray agent.” I call out, turning back to the kitchen.

My way was blocked by a broadening figure. I looked up to see Steve, his face twisted with regret.

“I don't need an apology from any of you. I get it. Misguidance can be one hell of a factor in doing something you regret.” I stated before brushing past the Captain, hiding the rageful tears in my eyes.

I heard the sound of footsteps following me through the doorway, the sound of boots against the wooden floor of the kitchen.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Tony questioned. His tone was soft and filled with worry.

“Well, considering the welcoming party thrown for Bucky, that was talked about all over the world, I figured that if you truly knew my history my party wouldn't be as kind.” I turned to face them with a knowing look.

Ranges of guilt and empathy passed over the faces of the heros in front of me.

“Besides, ‘The Mist’ was disassembled eons ago after I left. I didn't think it was appropriate to bring up a ghost story of another evil organization. We have enough shit to deal with.” I gave a half-hearted smile to them, which was slimmly returned.

“We’re sorry. For everything.” Nat apologized, her green eyes boring into mine. I gave her a soft smile.

“Like I said, Misguidance is a hell of a thing. So no more apologizing let's just get back to the way things were and hope to God that Wanda comes home soon.” A quiet chuckle rumbles from the few in front of me as they move in for a quick hug.

Though there was still some healing to be done, everything went back to normal and we were the compatible team that people believed we always were.

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S.S: Again tell me what you think! Let me know of any errors or anything so I can fix them!! Thanks again for reading!

[themurphyzone]

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon Oneshot: Starlight

So this was the prologue to a multichapter PMD fic that will never be written, though I spent quite a bit of time creating the characters. This oneshot was sitting on my computer for several months, I just thought I’d share this with the Internet.

Summary: A lonely rich girl named Luna has been best friends with Penny the Meowth for years. But when Luna receives a series of strange dreams, she makes a decision that will change their lives forever. 

AO3 Link

Penny nuzzled her human’s cheek, mewing helplessly as Luna succumbed to another nightmare. Not for the first time, she wished she could learn Dream Eater so she could take away the pain, the torment, the guilt that persisted in Luna’s eyes during the day.

Her human cried out, almost flinging Penny off her chest as she rolled onto her side and curled into a tiny ball. Her entire body was wracked with tension, and Penny stifled the instinctive rumble building in her throat.

Purring didn’t work. Luna would just think Penny was another Meowth crying for help. Purring was supposed to bring comfort, but now it just added to Luna’s stress.

Penny didn’t understand what brought the nightmares, nor was she privy to the content. Luna was tight-lipped and quiet on her best days, though Penny could easily bring out a giggle or two if she just batted a Poké Ball around.

If she listened too closely, she heard whispers of catastrophic floods, devastating earthquakes, and the faraway pleas of countless Pokémon who didn’t understand why their world was being torn asunder.  

“I’m sorry…” Luna whimpered, a bead of sweat trickling down her forehead. “I don’t understand…”

Penny unsheathed her claws, lightly tracing the tips against Luna’s arm. Not hard to enough bleed, but just so Luna could feel the pricks and come back to reality. She left light, barely visible trails across Luna’s skin, withdrawing as Luna’s chest gave a sudden heave. Then Luna broke into a coughing fit, catapulting into a sitting position. A pillow and Clefairy doll fell from the bed, landing on the carpeted floor with a muffled thump.

Through a thin sliver of light in the bedroom, Penny saw the terror turn to relief in Luna’s eyes. Luna sighed, her breath hitching as she slumped forward and pressed her head against her knees, face hidden through a curtain of dark hair.

Penny retrieved the Clefairy doll and pressed it into Luna’s side.

“Thanks,” Luna whispered. She placed the doll in her lap and scratched behind Penny’s ear.

Penny released the purr she’d held back, resting her head on top of Luna’s other hand. Focusing on the vibrations of her throat, she tried to imagine a calming wave flowing into her human, though she didn’t know any healing moves.

Eventually, Luna’s breathing evened out. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, sitting at the edge for a brief moment before standing up, the Clefairy doll clutched tightly in her arms.

Without a word, Luna crossed the length of her enormous bedroom and flung the curtains open, allowing more moonlight to filter in. Then she settled against the cushioned windowsill and stared out into the night sky.

Penny jumped onto the windowsill, nudging the Clefairy doll aside so there was room for both of them on Luna’s lap.  

“She doesn’t make sense,” Luna murmured. “A role to play…it means something, but I don’t get it. What role can I play when I’m locked in here?”

Penny bristled, hissing in frustration at the reminder of being a secret companion for a secret girl. Luna’s parents were important figures in some organization Penny didn’t care to remember the name of. Luna was unknown by the world beyond the manor grounds. And while Penny was allowed to stay in the manor, she knew Luna’s parents viewed her as a means to keep Luna compliant and out of the way.

Her parents certainly didn’t expect Penny and Luna to bond so quickly, but as long as Luna never expressed a desire to explore the world, they wouldn’t complain.

Luna loved stars and legends and Pokémon.

But she never experienced them for herself when so many others could. She was stuck with books, television, and the stars she could see from her windowsill.

Luna opened the window and a gentle wind blew into the room, chasing away the stifled air.

“The stars are so beautiful, Penny. See that cluster next to the moon? We have a clear view of the Perished Ones tonight,” Luna said, pointing to a group of stars that held some sort of pattern to her, but none to Penny. A breeze gently blew strands of long hair away from Luna’s face.

Her eyes sparkled, holding no traces of the haunted look she’d wandered around with for the past month.

A Meowth’s instincts were drawn to sparkling things, to hoard them and never let them go, and Penny was no exception. She held Luna’s gaze, waiting for her to continue.

“Long ago, a tower was struck by lightning and caught fire, which was then quelled with a cleansing rain. But not before three Pokémon perished in the flames. Ho-Oh revived them with his sacred ashes, and they were reborn as Beasts who roam the land. It’s said that Ho-Oh gave the remnants of the Beasts’ old lives to a deity with power over the stars, and she hung them in the night sky as a reminder of that fateful night. The trio of constellations became known as the Perished Ones.”

It was the most she’d said in a month.

Luna rested her head against her knees again. The contemplative look returned.

“Ho-Oh gave them new roles,” Luna whispered. “He cleansed their spirits and bodies so they could rule over lightning, volcanoes, and the north wind with no regrets.”

Though Penny only considered it a legend, it was clear that Luna was putting much more thought into the story than was necessary. She mewed in displeasure, pawing at Luna’s face so she would focus on petting the itchy spot that Penny could never reach no matter how much she twisted while grooming.

Luna gave a tiny smile, scratching Penny’s back until she fell asleep once more.

They slept peacefully for the rest of the night.  

o-o-o-o-o

For once, Luna’s parents were home. But since they preferred to be left undisturbed by both staff and daughter unless there was an emergency, Penny and Luna rarely saw them. Because they had a reputation for firing staff for the slightest indiscretions and hammering them with lawsuits if they talked, nobody was keen on facing her parents’ wrath.

Until now.

Out of self-preservation, Penny did everything she could to dissuade Luna from an audience with her parents. Just as she was debating the pros and cons of knocking her human down and sitting on her until she got the message, Luna crossed the high archway that marked the parlor entrance and stood in front of the Master and Mistress of the Silano household.

Penny swallowed, but padded onto the expensive Kalosian rug that nobody was ever allowed on and wound her tail around Luna’s legs for moral support. Luna glanced down for the briefest moment, then returned her attention to her parents, who were still discussing some trivial matter.

“-Mr. A wants more funding towards the research department. Their top scientist believes he’s found a faster method that will boost a captured Pokémon’s power a hundredfold,” Master Silano explained with a long-suffering sigh, though Penny couldn’t tell if it was directed at Luna or his wife.

“About time,” Mistress Silano said, her manicured nails tapping at the couch impatiently. “He should’ve improved the field equipment a long time ago. Why waste time on common Caterpie when they could have the power of a Legendary?”

“You know he wants to maintain his reputation, Catherine,” Master Silano said. “It’s better to keep these sorts of activities under the radar.”

They ignored their daughter completely, and Penny knew Luna was having second and possibly third thoughts about her plan.

Luna stiffened, but she balled her fists and forced the words out of her throat. “Mother. Father. I’m interested in getting a Drowzee. I’ve been doing some research, and-“

Mistress Silano huffed. “A Drowzee! As if that mangy furball wasn’t enough for you!”

She glared at Penny as if offended by her very existence. But Penny lifted her chin defiantly, refusing to be cowed. After all, she was a prideful Meowth, loyal to those who earned her trust and uncaring about those who didn’t.  

“Mother, please.” Luna’s voice quivered. Penny’s tail tightened around Luna’s legs. “I’ve done some research. Drowzee can sense and eat people’s dreams. They can even project the eaten dreams to anyone they trust. It…would be interesting.”

Penny disliked the Drowzee idea, but for Luna’s sake she kept the bouts of jealousy to herself. They both knew Dream Eater was their best shot at understanding the nightmares, but Penny wished that didn’t involve getting another Pokémon since she was meant to be Luna’s constant companion.

“We allowed you to keep that stray Meowth as long as you took responsibility for it. You don’t need another Pokémon.” Master Silano didn’t look up from the stack of papers. “You will not be gallivanting around Kanto doing whatever you want. One Meowth is sufficient for your needs.”

“I’m…I’m only asking for a Drowzee,” Luna said. She tried to copy Penny’s haughty act, but couldn’t keep her head up under Mistress Silano’s scrutiny. “Nothing more.”

“You heard your father,” Mistress Silano snapped, dismissing them with a lazy flick of her wrist. Several golden bracelets clinked with the movement. “Leave us. We have important business to discuss. Later, we will talk about this rebel behavior of yours. I assure you it will not be tolerated again.”

On the verge of tears, Luna spun on her heel and stormed away, abandoning her usual caution in favor of stomping on the floorboards. A rebellious act that would surely add on to her troubles, but Luna didn’t seem to care.

Penny flattened herself to the ground, slinking quietly behind Luna until they reached the modest dining room next to the kitchen. It was their favorite place to take meals. They avoided the large, lonely dining hall the Master and Mistress preferred.  

“It’s not fair, Penny!” Luna cried. Penny’s ears flattened as Luna scraped the legs of her chair against the floor. She fell into her seat and slammed her head into the table. “Is understanding my nightmares really too much to ask?”

Penny jumped onto the table, not caring if she was allowed on the furniture or not. If they found her pawprints on the polished wood, so be it. Compared to the demands Luna had to put up with, obtaining a Drowzee was a perfectly reasonable request.

Penny rolled onto her belly and mewed pathetically. She hadn’t needed these deliberately vulnerable positions to garner sympathy and food since she was taken in, but it was the only thing she could think of.

But Luna didn’t move.

Penny’s fur bristled along her spine. She yowled at the top of her lungs and startled Luna, who jumped to her feet with an expression that would’ve been comical if the situation hadn’t been so dire.

“Don’t do that, Penny!” Luna shouted, her eyes blazing. “You have no idea what I’m going through!”

A growl escaped Penny’s throat. These dreams terrified her human and nobody else was aware. That’s all she needed to know.

They glared daggers into each other. Penny flexed her claws against the wood, leaving shallow scratchmarks behind.

Then a knock on the side door broke their concentration.

“Ms. Luna, are you feeling alright?” Michael called, his polite voice soothing as always. He opened the door as far as it would allow with the chain attached. He was an elderly man, tall and well-groomed, and he was the only other person in the manor Penny liked. “Do you require anything for yourself or Ms. Penny?”

Despite herself, Luna couldn’t help but laugh. Penny casually licked her paw and drew it over her ear, trying to appear nonchalant about being called ‘Ms. Penny’, but mostly she was just happy about Luna smiling for the first time in several weeks.

“I think we could use a light snack to settle our nerves,” Luna admitted.

Penny meowed in agreement, licking her lips at the promise of her favorite berries.

Michael unlatched the chain and stepped into the kitchen, nodding politely at Penny before pulling out ingredients and equipment for a light fruit parfait.

“I assume your audience didn’t go well,” Michael said, carefully dicing several strawberries with a practiced hand.

Luna filled a water bowl for Penny and grabbed a glass of juice for herself. “They didn’t listen to me. But it’s nothing I haven’t heard before,” she sighed. “I shouldn’t have said those things, Penny. I’m sorry.”

Penny purred, rubbing her cheek against Luna’s arm. Then she settled in front of her bowl, eager to quench her thirst.

“Ms. Luna, forgive my curiosity, but what reason do you have for staying here? You have a Pokémon. Most children these days would leave home the moment they’re of legal age for an official license.”

“My parents would hunt me down if I left. You know that, Michael,” Luna said. “Penny and I would be on the run constantly. I can’t make her commit to that.”

Penny scowled. Of course she would commit! She had claws and fangs for a reason.

Michael chuckled as he set the finished parfaits in front of Luna and Penny. “Ms. Penny seems to disagree.”

“She likes to contradict me,” Luna muttered, swirling the blueberries around with a spoon.

“It sounds as if fear is your only reason,” Michael mused. “But you were also courageous enough to request a Pokémon from your parents. Many staff members never would’ve confronted them directly.”

Luna dropped her spoon on the table. Yogurt splattered onto her sleeve, but Luna didn’t seem to care. She whipped around and stared at Michael in surprise.

“You think I’m brave?” she asked, her eyes wide.

Michael shook his head. He took a napkin and dabbed at the yogurt on Luna’s sleeve. “No, Ms. Luna. Bravery can easily turn to folly, and I know you’re not a fool. But I believe you display true courage when the situation arises. You found Penny as a critically injured stray who’d happened to wander into the garden, and you nursed her back to health.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Luna said. “You were the one who took care of her.”

“You don’t wear self-defeat well. It’s not a matter of who took care of Ms. Penny’s needs, but rather that you chose to help her at all despite knowing your parents would disapprove. I would dare call that an act of true courage.”

“True courage…” Luna murmured. She finished the last of her parfait, giving the empty bowl to Michael.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Michael asked, raising an eyebrow.

Penny swiped the blueberry juice off her mouth, adding her own questioning meow to Michael’s worried tone.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Luna smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you for everything, Michael.”

Penny followed Luna out of the kitchen. Her ears twitched at the running water and tinkling of dishes behind her.

“Likewise…”

Only Penny caught the sadness in his voice.

o-o-o-o-o

Luna wasn’t changing into her pajamas. And she always changed into her pajamas before reading a story to Penny.

Penny narrowed her eyes. There was an odd lilt in Luna’s voice, like she wasn’t enthusiastic about the story tonight. She was lost in her own mind, somewhere Penny couldn’t ever reach.

“’Awakened, the human dons the Pokémon hide to roam villages.’” Luna finished Sinnoh Folk Tales, then put it back on the shelf. She trailed her hand over the book covers, hesitating over a frayed photo of herself and Penny.

The camera had been nothing but a cheap disposable, but the maid who’d taken the photo was kind enough to get the picture developed somewhere. Shame she’d been fired. She’d made the tastiest poffins that Penny had eaten in her life.

Penny closed her eyes and burrowed into the blankets, leaving nothing except the tips of her ears poking out. She placed a paw over her face, flicking her ears as a light laugh filled the room.

But the atmosphere soon grew somber again.

Under the covers, Penny took deep breaths to fool Luna into believing she was asleep. She’d get to the bottom of this, no matter how much her human believed it was her burden to bear.

A Meowth never let anything escape her claws.  

“Penny…I-I’m…” Luna’s voice faltered. “Please understand.”

Her footsteps sounded faintly on the rug, thudded against the floorboards, and slapped against the tile until the sound faded away completely.

Penny’s ears swiveled to the door, listening for Luna’s soft, cautious steps.

Five minutes passed, the Hoothoot clock marking every agonizing second with a faint click.  

Her human just wanted a glass of water. That was all. She shouldn’t worry.

But the doubtful voice in her head told her otherwise.

Soon the waiting grew unbearable, and Penny finally threw off the blankets and stalked out the bedroom door. Her skilled paws slid over the ornate rug, but she had no time to be proud over the abilities she’d honed because of her humble beginnings.

Learn where to find food and water. Learn who to avoid. The two most basic rules of the wild.

Luna and Michael were good humans. Avoid the Master and Mistress. The rest of the staff were a gamble, though better moods generally meant less trouble.  

Penny crept downstairs, then ran for cover behind a couch at the clack of a high heel behind her.

Luna’s dark hair streamed behind her as she moved into the garden of red lilies. Penny heard Luna’s ragged breaths, smelled her fear, but her steps never wavered. She lifted her face to the stars above.

“I’m ready, Gardevoir. Please guide me and test my resolve if I’m truly destined to be your world’s hero.”

A shimmering blue portal opened before Luna. She stepped through it, leaving no trace of her existence behind.

And Penny cried under an endless canopy of stars.

End AN:So planned concepts: Luna would’ve gone to the world of Pokemon Mystery Dungeon, specifically Rescue Team. She gets transformed into a Skitty and teams up with a Charmander named Sunny, who’s the son of the Charizard on Team ACT. There would’ve been a concurrent plot with Penny dealing with the fallout of Luna’s disappearance from her world as well. Overall, the concept was fun to create, but it was too ambitious for me. 

But I hope you found this enjoyable regardless. 

[thinking-outside-the-giftbox18]

A Pill In Time: Chapter 1 - Welcome to St. Dymphna’s Psych Ward

Part 1 - The Cafeteria

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25747456/chapters/62524816

Wattpad link: https://www.wattpad.com/932664360-a-pill-in-time-ahit-psych-ward-au-chapter-1

Summary: An alternate universe where A Hat In Time [by Gears For Breakfast] is set in a psychic ward and anyone non-human in the game are human now.

Notes: The writer has done research on the mental disorders yet has trouble understanding and memorizing them, please don’t harass or insult them as they have tried to be empathetic and avoid spreading misinformation.

The perspective of the main character changes to the next character to show what the main character is really doing.

TW: Mental disorders [Autism/Autism Spectrum, PTSD, OCD, Anxiety, Schizophrenia, etc.], the perspective of a child can be dark too, self-loathing, mentions of physical abuse [not kids fighting each other, we were kids who fought our own siblings before, unless it was physical abuse on your perspective…nevermind…], mild swearing, might be boring depending on how I write this story.

I swear I’m not crying…I’m not crying at all! When I get angry, the sweat goes into my eyeballs! I’m gonna kick Timmy to the ground till he becomes a vegetable and I’ll chop him up and eat him for dinner, and he better taste delicious!!! Okay Hana, calm yourself…You have to get your toys first before anyone else can! I see what looked like a cafeteria up ahead, and then I heard what sounded like a girl making karate noises and punching someone. I was almost close to the source of the sound when I saw this girl, she had blond

hair that was tied into pigtails, but the bands are almost at the end of the hair. She was kicking a big security guy who looks like he was in pain, she stopped and turned towards me, she had yellow eyes that stared at me with surprise and confusion.

Before I can say anything, she ran away and I had to follow her. She went inside the cafeteria and kept ducking under the tables and dodging the other security guys…who all look the same…weird. While chasing her, I noticed something near the tall barred windows and I ran over to it. It was my blue blanket with star patterns, still folded and rolled in a bundle! I grabbed it and shoved it inside the bag. I got up and looked around…great, I lost her. I cautiously tried to get to the exit, but then I heard a loud booming voice, I almost hit my head under the tables from jumping!

“FIND THAT BLONDE GIRL AND MAKE SURE TO PUT HER IN THE ROOM!!!”

My ears ring from that yell, I really don’t know or want to know what “The room” is. I peep up and see a chef with black hair and a scowl on his face, he has a fancy mustache and bushy brows. He had both his arms on his hip and commanding the guards around, I quickly left the room before he can see me.

Mark’s P. O. V.

I looked around the cafeteria, making sure no table is left unturned for Maria, that little she-devil…As I was watching out for her, I could have sworn that I had seen someone ran out the cafeteria… Might be that I’m really tired.

Hana’s P. O. V.

That was close…I looked around and see that I have some options, there was a flight of stairs going up and an elevator. I was busy thinking of my choice to venture to the other floors that I did not notice the clicking sounds from the badges on my bagpack. I jumped and turned to see that girl again, who looked at me like a curious owl.

She walked around me, looking up and down, suspicious and serious. Is…Is that red marker on her cheeks??

Maria’s P. O. V.

This brown haired girl with blue eyes looked at me with surprise; maybe she couldn’t believe the glorious sight of Miss Maria, the Marvelous Hero of the St. Dymphna’s Psych Ward!

That is a working title, by the way!

“Hello there! You must be new here! I am Maria the Marvelous and Welcome to the Psych Ward! What are your superpowers?” I introduced myself to the newbie; she looked at me silently and blinked, like any clueless person. She must be a mute, like those two weirdoes from the third floor who scare the security goons.

“You must have a really cool superpower, kid! I’m the hero of this place and I’m currently on a mission! Wanna join the rebellion?” She was about to open her mouth, but I know the answer! “Great! I had to hire you after watching you escape from the bad guys’ headquarters, that’s some pretty good sneaking if you ask me!” Then I remembered the badges on her bag, I ask about them “Those are some pretty cool badges you got there! Do they mean anything? Do they relate to that super cool superpower of yours?”

Just the thought of having a badge for having a superpower already sounded awesome! “I saw this boy with a red jacket running around and dropping off these weird looking toys on the corners of the building before I got here. Do those belong to you?” She nodded her head immediately, good to know she’s not deaf. “I can help you find them all since we’re comrades now! Or better yet, we’re partners in crime! Whaddya’ say?” I held up a hand for a high-five, and then realized she’s shorter than me.

Hana’s P. O. V.

No offense to Maria but she was and sounds bossy and obnoxious. However, I was really grateful for the help she had given me. I jumped up and immediately high-fived Maria back, I spent my time with Timmy to know to never be slow to a high-five. She seemed impressed by that and she led the way.

As we found my comfort toys one by one around the ground floor, she talked about the ward and the tall tales of the residents who live in the second and third floor above. There’s a grumpy old man who yells at everything and argues with another guy who has big poofy hair, a long haired tall man who screamed at the guards and one of them sort of died, a skinny red eyed man who chants to himself while his fingers are always entangled with threads, and finally this really creepy lady who screams every day and attacks anyone on sight. The last one kind of scared me because after Maria told me that tale, a distant scream rang out and Maria looked equally as scared as I am, even though she later denied it.

Anyways, she takes me back to the cafeteria and I’m making sure to not open my mouth, though it was getting harder everytime Maria talked.

Maria says that she had recalled seeing one of my comfort toys in the kitchen, I show my “upset face” which is me lowering both my eyebrows.

“Don’t worry, I, Miss Maria the Marvelous, know a shortcut!” she exclaimed, peaking my interest. It’s started to feel like an action spy movie! I listened to her directions, making sure to not leave out anything and nod my head to show that I listened. “Okay, new kid! Go in there and get that thing! Knock ‘em dead if you get caught!” I waved and ran off to the back door.

Maria’s P. O. V.

I waved her back as she sneaked into the kitchen back door, to be honest…I feel happy to have a friend after being here for so long…

She is planning to betray you…~

My heart sank and eyes widened. ‘S-She won’t…! I can tell!’

She is silently planning on telling about you to those stupid goons…~ And laugh at your ugly face for believing in her~

‘She wouldn’t do that!! She was so nice!’

She will watch you cry and take away your place as the hero. Her toys are her strength, that is why she was looking for them~ She’ll become a powerful villain and betray you to the very end~

…I am her friend. I trust her. I’ll prove you wrong! She’ll thank me and never leave me! Watch me! When I enter the cafeteria, she’ll open the door after getting in the kitchen.

But I am always right. Without me, you’ll be nothing…We were there when “he” put you in this place, we’ll always will be~

…

…

I doubt you now.

So be it.

I entered the cafeteria cautiously, and waited for the newbie to unlock the door, but it was still locked… Maybe she bailed out on us…~ Or she got stuck somewhere…

Suddenly the door unlocked and the kid stood by it while she gave a kind smile at me. “Well, you took your time, didn’t you? Don’t make me wait like that ever again!” I huffed and turn up my nose in annoyance before playfully snicker and hold her hand. She was surprised but smiled back at me before following me to the kitchen.

Hana’s P. O. V.

I was a bit shocked at Maria’s fake snobbish attitude, but I knew it was just pretend. To be fair, it was difficult to pass through the vents of the kitchen, I was lucky to find gloves before going in there. Everything was so sticky and slimy, and even so…small! I shuddered at the thought of it. I don’t mind letting my guard down for Maria, she isn’t so bad after all. I hope it stays that way after I get my comfort toys back.

[lorirwritesfanfic]

Support

Author's note: This is the last Liam x MC prompt for Choices August Challenge. Read the warning [All characters are owned by Pixelberry Studios] Book: The Royal Romance Pairing: King Liam x MC (Jade) Rating: M Word count: 1024 Summary: Liam helps Jade overcome another situation in which her insecurities get the best of her. Based on the prompt: Choices August Challenge Day Twenty Eight - Speech

Warning: This piece contains subjects (psychological trauma, anxiety attack, mentions of violence) which may be disturbing for some people. Reader discretion is advised.

Jade glanced at the notes of her speech, trying her best to concentrate on them, going over all the points she was meant to speak. Despite the little relevance of the award she was going to receive, her advisors and her husband emphasized the importance of that ceremony visibility to help launch her project. 

However, enduring snob people in a foolish award ceremony wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. Would they take her seriously? A cold shiver ran down her spine and she began to hyperventilate. What if I fail? The frivolous chatter, the laughter, the music, the glass clinking... Everything around her was making her anxious.

"My love?" Liam asked, placing his hand atop hers.

She turned to him, her complexion going pale under the immaculate makeup look embellishing her face. Her palms were sweating, her heart pounded in her chest, her stomach fluttered. "I can't do it," she whispered.

"Of course you can, Jay," he squeezed her hand gently.

"Liam, I can't do it. I can't," she shook her head nervously as her eyes glowed. She was about to burst into tears.

Liam stood up helping Jade to her feet and excused himself to take a stroll outside with her. As their security detail cleared the perimeter, they went to a quiet spot in the garden, sat down on a patio bench and she sobbed in his chest, tugging on the lapels of his tuxedo jacket, pulling him closer. "Shh... It's okay. You can cry now. It's just us here," he said, stroking her back gently.

When she was calmer, she rested her head on his shoulder, hugging his arm. "I can't go up there to talk about this."

"Why not?"

"Because it hurts. It hurts too much, Liam," her lips trembled.

"I can imagine," he said kissing the top of her head. 

"Can you make the speech for me?" She asked, her glossy eyes begging him.

He remained silent for a moment, then replied. "I don't think I should." 

"You know what needs to be said as much I do."

"I know the main topics, I don't remember the details like you do."

"Liam, please..."

"Okay..." he sighed. "I suppose I could tell everyone you're indisposed and make the speech for you."

Jade frowned, looking down at her hands.

"But before I do that, remind me again why are we here?"

"I was going to use this pretentious award I won to talk about a real cause," she said, still avoiding eye contact.

"Because...?"

"Every woman has suffered some sort of violence in her life and society always pushes it under the rug, belittling a serious matter."

"And what did you tell me about non-female people talking about feminist issues?"

"They can support the cause, but women are the ones should lead the protests, talk about their experiences and show the world we all need to fight for this to happen."

"Is that all?"

"This is my cause and I have the power to talk about it," she said, her voice going stronger as she enunciated every word.

"So... Do you still think I should go on that stage to receive a silly award on your behalf and talk about your cause?"

"No."

He smiled. "That's what I thought."

"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I just... panicked," she sniffed.

"I understand. It can't be easy for you to talk about it. But you did all the research, you wrote every single word of the project, you've met all the specialists of the field to talk about it. You're ready."

"What if I forget something? What if I panic again and just make a fool of myself?"

"You won't. You are my fierce queen, you own every room you walk into and you'll fight for this cause not just for yourself, but for other women who suffered with it."

Jade nodded, fishing a small mirror and a tissue from her dress pocket to check her makeup and fix anything could be smudged. "Okay."

Liam stood up and extended his hand to his wife. "Are you ready to receive your first shallow award and make it something meaningful?"

She laced her fingers with his and stood up. "Yup." She smiled. "Thank you, Li." 

"You're welcome, my queen." He smiled and led her back to the ballroom. 

About half an hour later, Jade was called to the stage, gave a small smile as she received the award and turned to the crowd. "Thank you. I'm flattered to be recognized as a trendsetter, though I can hardly say I zipped up any of my dresses. I have maids to do that for me."

The crowd dissolved into laughter.

"I owe to closest friends, my trusty fashion designers, and Pinterest all the credit for my Pictagrams OOTD posts." 

Applause and laughter filled the room.

"Everyone likes to tell me how lucky I am because I went from a waitress of a dive bar in New York to Queen of a wealthy kingdom in one year, how fate has blessed me with royal blood, beauty, a real-life prince charming as a life partner," she smiled at Liam, who beamed at her from their table in the front. "But I wasn't always this lucky. Misogyny usually has a way to ruin things for me, especially when it includes random noble jerks harassing me, ruthless paparazzi and press media judging my actions based on mere rumors or former abusive boyfriends who enjoyed putting my life at risk just for the kicks."

Whispers and gasps filled the room.

"And in case any of you is shocked with this fact about my life, I'd like to tell you I'm merely part of statistics."

As Jade continued to speak, Liam smiled, gazing at his wife with newfound admiration. Very few people knew all the effort it took for her to be there talking about one of her most traumatic experiences and providing a solution to help other people. But there she was, showing her ideas to some of the most influential people in the world. He was more than happy to stay on the sidelines and let her have that moment. He was there to support her.

[ohtheseboysilove]

Wandering souls I [ Roger Taylor x F!Reader ]

Words : 3, 000 K +

Warnings : language, angst, broken heart, roger’s being a dick,

Summary : Soulmate!AU. Reader and Roger are soulmates. Reader is happy to finally find her other half. Roger don’t believe in these bullshits and don’t accepted her . But they quickly understand that they have no choice but to be around each other. . How reader is suppose to be happy with someone who don’t want anything to do with her ?

Note : Bruuuh the first chapter is finally here, hope you like it !! Roger is being a little bitch but we still love him :))) Tell me what you think babes !!!

☀ Masterlist ☀

@/ none of these gifs are mine xx

It had been ten months since your...hurtful encounter with your lovely soulmate Roger Taylor. You learnt more about him through the multiple magazines which were talking about him and his band Queen, quite recent but they were becoming more famous every days and they were currently at the end of their European tour. Since that day, things went down for you, apparently the universe didn’t like that absolutely nothing else happened between the two of you. And as a...punishment maybe ? You weren’t well. Exhausted all the time, pale as a dead body, heavy sadness on your shoulders, it was really awful to live like that. It was like you were sick, you were never hungry, resulting with you losing too much weight, every things that before made you happy seemed dull. The doctor said physically you were fine, not mysterious sickness, the only other option he thought about what your soulmate story. The pain that the rejection caused you was stuck in your mind and had been reflected on your health. You felt incredibly stupid to react like this about a man you saw for only a minute, soulmate or not, it was ridiculous. You didn’t ask for any of this, he decided to reject you, he should be the one suffering about it, not you. You did some research in the library and found it that, indeed, your health state wasn’t very uncommon. When soulmates were staying away from each other for a prolonged period of time, your mind and body could react badly. In your case, very badly. Probably due to rejection too. The book you were reading was more a compilation of testimony from soulmates rather than an actual guide, but you wouldn’t probably find better. All the soulmates were saying practically the same : the more time you spent with your soulmate, the better you felt. Romantic relationships over friendly one were much efficient. The last pages of the books were filled with deceased soulmates from broken heart. Yes, you could actually die from a heartbroken. It was different for each person, could take years or decade but it was a possibility. The link between two soulmates were incredibly powerful in good and bad ways. That shit was way scarier than you thought.

You quickly found out that Roger was in the same condition as you as Queen had to reschedule the departure to their tour in America due to a stomach bug touching their drummer. You were almost sure that this was pure bullshit, he was suffering as much as you from the distance and time apart. The tattoo on your wrist was now deep black and throbbing painfully most of the time, a constant remainder of your broken heart.

**

“Yes ?” You answered the phone with a weak voice, today was a very bad day for you, coughing and shaking most of the morning. Thanks to Roger Taylor.

“(Y/N), darling, it’s Freddie. I’m Roger’s friend, do you remember me ?”

“I do Freddie” You replied after clearing your throat, keeping your fingers pressed against the wet clothe on your forehead as you were trying to cool down your fever.

“Great ! How have been these days ?” A heavy cough escaped your mouth before you could answer properly. “I see, you’re not feeling well, right ?”

“Not really, no. I’m like this for months now, it’s not going better” You knew he was calling for Roger’s condition, they probably figured out that both of you were the remedy against each other’s poor states. “I guess your friend is in the same condition as me ?”

“Sadly, yes. I told this little wanker to not mess with soulmates but he won’t listen. He is sick as a dog and we already had to cancel few of our shows in Europe because some day he don’t have enough energy to play” Freddie explained with an annoyed voice. “I really think you should see each other darling, he still don’t believe all of this it’s his fault but all the doctors we saw said the same thing, too much time apart between soulmates can be very dangerous”

You didn’t want to see him, the shame and humiliation you felt that day were still deep rooted into your frame but your soul was like magnetized by this man, craving for any desperate contact. That was unfair but you didn’t really had any other choice.

“I think that too Freddie. When are you coming back in London ?”

“Tomorrow and we are leaving for the rest of our world tour, three days later, for at least seven months, maybe more darling” A sharp pang echoed through your chest, stopping you from breathing during few seconds. You couldn’t keep living like that, the constant pain was more unbearable each day. “You’re alright (Y/N) ?”

“I...I’m okay” Your lungs were burning at each breaths. “You need to come back here, it’s– shit, it’s too painful”

“We can’t darling, our manager and all the peoples who put money in our tour won’t allow us. You need to join us, please” His voice sounded more worried than before. “Stay with us until the end of our tour, everything would be paid, the ticket plane, the food, the hotel, we really need you around to help Roger. Please, we can’t perform without our drummer”

You sighed quietly and took a seat on the kitchen stool, your legs becoming too weak to carry you much longer.

“Freddie, I don’t know...”

“(Y/N), I know you have a life here and I’m sorry to ask you that but we don’t have any choice. It’s been two rough months for us and for you too I’m sure–“

“Two months ? Are you saying he had been sick only for the past two months ?” You weakly wiped the sweat sticking on your neck, your body couldn’t decide if you were too hot or too cold, moving from a state to another. “I’m sick since the day he rejected me Freddie ! My life had become a nightmare because of him. I lost my job because some day I can’t even go out of my bed, I fainted more time than I can actually remember, I feel like I’m dying Freddie, each day worst than the other. And now you telling me, he was fine during the first eight months ? That’s fucking unfair !”

Your little outburst made your head dizzy, draining more energy than your body could provided to you at the moment. You slowly rested your head on the bar, taking deep breaths to calm your distraught heartbeat.

“I...I’m sorry to hear that (Y/N), we didn’t know...”

“It’s not your fault, I’m sorry. It’s not Roger’s either, I understand he don’t want a complete stranger in his life, he is a famous rock star, he can have anyone” You whispered through the phone, the soreness in your frame pulsating roughly. You were mad at the drummer because of your state but you also understood, he didn’t want to change is life because of your meeting, it wanted to make his own choice, you couldn’t blame it for that. “I will come to your tour. I don’t have anything else to do here anyway”

“Oh my god, thank you so much !” He screamed happily and your could hear some muffled voices around him. “She said yes, go and tell Paul that she just save our band. Sorry darling, Brian and John are really relieved, thanks to you ! Would like to stay in Roger and Brian’s flat during the few days we are in London ? Would it help you to feel better ?”

“Oh...I don’t want to bother them...”

“Nonsense my dear, Brian would be delight to have anything that could relieve Roger from his grumpy mood, and both of you would feel better”

You murmured an unsure okay and noted the address that Freddie gave you before hanging up.

What the hell did you agreed to ?

**

At eight p.m the next day you were in a taxi driving toward Roger and Brian’s flat. One of your friends had help you doing your luggage as you were absolutely useless, completely exhausted by anything and you couldn’t wait to go back to the normal you.

You pressed the buzzer to their flat and Brian answered, opening the door but when you he told you they were at the fourth floor without lift, you could have cry. But you were to shy and embarrassed to ask for help, so you started literally dragging your suitcase through the stairs, every movements sending harsh pang to your fragile muscles. You hated so much your weak state, you were fucking ridiculous.

“(Y/N), are you here ?” You heard Brian’s voice travelling into the stairwell after ten minutes and two floors of struggling.

“I...I’m coming. My suitcase is a bit heavy and I’m– fuck, not at my best these days” You yelled back as you took a break before the third floor, your heartbeat going crazy in your chest.

The sound of steps made your raise you head to find Brian, smiling at you.

“Let me help–“ His smile fell when he came closer, a worried look on his features. “Oh. Freddie said you weren’t well because of Roger but...this is worst than I thought. I’m terribly sorry”

“It’s not your fault Brian” You answered weakly, keeping your head down to avoid his gaze. He took the suitcase and you grabbed the bannister to climb the last floors.

“Sorry for the mess” He opened the door for you and let you in, typical boys’ flat with clothes and abandoned beer bottles everywhere. “I can give you my room for the two days, you really need to rest I think” He observed you like if he you were about to pass out at every moment. It was, sadly, a possibility.

“No, no, no Brian. I’m not kicking you out of your own room, I’m fine with the sofa”

“I don’t want her here !” You both turned your heads to the kitchen where Roger was probably speaking with someone on the phone. “Jesus, do you even listen to me when I talk ? She has nothing to do with my...state.” You stared at your nails, feeling uncomfortable to invade his privacy like this. “I don’t fucking care about what the doctor said ! He is a stupid wanker, he can’t do his job properly, I don’t trust him”

“Sorry for Rog, he is an asshole right now because he don’t like being sick, you know ? Don’t pay to much attention to what he say” Brian scratched the back of his neck, visibly awkward. “Roger, (Y/N) is here !”

You could feel your breathing increased as he appeared at the living-room’s door, still as beautiful than the last time you saw him. When you locked eyes with him, it was like someone took off the weight of your shoulders which was compressing you, letting you finally breathed freely. The tingling on your skin came back, electricity rolling through your veins and you felt a bit better. But the need to touch him was way more insistent than the first time.

“Hi Roger” You gave a timid smile, he was intimidating as he pushed his sunglasses on his nose and wore an irritable expression on his face.

“(Y/N)” His jaw was roughly clenched and his voice cold.

He barely looked at you but when he did, a small whine crossed his features. You didn’t look really good right now and you felt even more embarrassed in front of his deep blue eyes. He was incredibly pretty and you...well you weren’t at your best. Your cheeks were dug and your frame in general was thinner than usual, looking like a fragile little thing. You were pale as a ghost, your blue veins were visible particularly on your hands and arms, large and dark bags under your eyes due to your constantly lack of energy. He clearly wasn’t affected as you but he did look tired and a bit pale. You wondered if he felt the same electric currant through his body or if it was only you.

After an awkward silence between the three of you, Brian’s gaze travelling between yours and Roger’s face, you decided to speak, hoping to relax a bit the tense atmosphere :

"Sorry for my presence here, I know you don’t want me here but—"

"You’re right, I don’t want you here but I don’t any choice apparently" The blond glanced angrily at the guitarist. "Stay around and pretend I don’t exist, especially during our tour and I will do the same" His tone was harsh and his gaze even rougher. You nodded silently as he left the flat in a hurry, the familiar sadness coming back as soon as you processed his words. A big lump was obstructing your throat as you quietly sat on the sofa, feeling suddenly cold. You knew he didn’t like this whole soulmates thing but it wasn’t your fault, he could at least be polite toward you. But he only rejected you even more, making your shoulders slumbered, your self-love at the lowest level possible. Were you so ugly or annoying for him to look at you with so much coldness ? You thought you were lucky to have such a gorgeous soulmate but he was probably thinking the exact contrary, stuck with you seemed to be an awful thing for him. 

"I’m sorry (Y/N)—" "Brian please, stop apologising for something you’re not responsible" You lay down on the sofa, kicking your shoes off and watching blankly the black t.v screen, wondering again why did you do wrong to piss off the drummer like that. "Alright, I will bring you some blankets for the night, do you need anything else ? Something for the pain maybe ?" You looked curiously at him. "I’m a very observant guys, it’s easy to see that you’re in pain (Y/N)" He gave you a sad smile. "Thank you but unfortunately medications are completely useless for my pain, there only one way to heal a soul" You shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal to you but inside you just wanted to cry.  "Roger" You nodded timidly before coughing. "He will come around (Y/N), I swear. He need you too, he can’t ignore you forever and I know he is in pain too. He’s such an idiot"  "I hope so. You know...just seeing him made me feel better. It’s really strange to depend from someone so much" You chewed absent-mindedly your lips, trying to remember the control you had over your emotions before you met him, it felt so...long ago. You yawned uncontrollably and rubbed your heavy eyes, tiredness washing over you.

“I’m gonna let you sleep (Y/N). There some leftover pizza in the kitchen, if you want” You nodded and thanked him, putting the blanket next to you. “I’m gonna sleep, touring killed me, I need to rest. Goodnight”

“Goodnight Brian”

**

The next two days were rather awkward. Roger didn’t say a word to you, totally ignoring you. It was hurtful but you did feel a tad better, less tired and your appetite was coming back slowly, at least one thing positive in your life. You spent your days cleaning their messy flat, cooking and doing some laundry, trying to make yourself useful at least, nothing more to do as you were just waiting to leave for north America, first stop of the band.

But the last night before the departure something happened. Something that, sadly, you happened again and again. It was past midnight and you couldn’t sleep like usual, your mind wondering about how you could make the situation better between you and Roger. You wouldn’t support the silent treatment for seven months. You were chewing a cold piece of pizza when the front door of the flat opened, Roger’s voice whispering something.

“Hey, hey shush love. My roommate is sleeping” You turned your head, the pizza in your hand as you were sitting criss-cross on the sofa watching your soulmate bringing a girl in the apartment. “Need to me quiet for me, can you do that ?”

The redhead girl giggled quietly, her arms loosely hanging around his neck as she pressed small kisses on his neck. He was trying to walk through the flat without lost contact with her, his large palms kneading shamelessly her ass. They hurt a wall and giggled like two teenagers before starting a heavy making-out session, few metres away from you. The noises of kissing and sucking made you sick in your stomach, you couldn’t stop few tears to escape from your eyes. You didn’t want to cry for him, he wasn’t doing anything wrong but it was still annoyingly painful to witness, burning your skin. A crushing sensation of discomfort was growing into your chest and a gasp of pain flew through your lips. Roger immediately stopped the kiss and raised his head, his lustful eyes falling on your aching features, he used his sleeve to wipe away the smudged lipstick on his mouth. You noticed his Adam’s apple bobbing heavily, a grimace appearing on his face but disappeared right after, giving his usual glacial gaze.

“Roger, I want you” The girl didn’t even notice you, her head buried onto his neck as one of her hand was wandering under his shirt.

You looked away when she started nibbling against his throat, it was none of your business. You lay back and hid your face under the blanket, muffling your pathetic sniffles as the door of Roger’s room opened then closed, both of them moaning quietly. Thankfully you couldn’t hear them from the sofa but you didn’t sleep during that night.

Maybe it wasn’t a such good idea to follow him in tour.

**

Taglist : @vanitysfairr @kenyadakblalock @a-kind-of-magik @a19103 @stormtrprinstilettos @loveandbeloved29 @ixchel-9275 @polarcrystall

[trndsttr0961]

Dark Avengers - Chapter One

P L A N E T :  T E R R A :  1 9 8 4

T O N Y

- - - - - - 

“Father?”

“Hmm.”

“Look, I build it myself! Do you like it?”

His father glanced over at the miniature robot his eight year old son had built.

“It’s not good enough.” Howard Stark simply stated before resuming with his paperwork.

“When will it be good enough?” Tony asked his father, hoping that one day he’d have his approval.

“It will be good enough the day you actually put some effort into making it!” Howard sternly told Tony. “Now leave, you’ve already wasted enough of my time.

Tears filled chocolate brown eyes.

“But papa,” Tony started tugging on his father’s sleeve.

Suddenly, large hands gripped the collar of Tony’s shirt, and he was looking into cerulean blue eyes that were filled with anger. 

“What did you say?! WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?!” The elder Stark roared, spittle flying into young Tony’s face.

“P-pa-papa,” Sobbed the eight year old child as he tried to look anywhere but his father’s hatred-filled eyes.

“YOU WILL ADDRESS ME AS FATHER, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?! ” Howard screamed at his son, shaking him furiously.

“Y-yes, I’m s-sor-sorry,” Tony stuttered in attempt to get his father to stop shaking him like a rag doll.

“MY SON WILL NOT BE WEAK, YOU MUST BE MADE OF IRON! DO YOU HEAR ME?!” Howard grasped Tony’s face in his large hands and roughly turned it towards his. He looked his son straight in the eye, 

“You must be made of Iron.” He said, much more calmly than before.

Tony furiously nodded as the words that had been shouted at him in one of his father’s furious rages repeated themself inside his head.

Finally, Howard let go of his son and resumed his paperwork. 

“Now take that atrocious thing you call a robot and Without even looking up from the documents, he took the robot his only son had made, and threw it at Tony’s feet. 

With tears in his eyes, Tony picked up the robot and quickly walked as fast as he could out of the room. 

Looking down, he saw that the robot hadn’t been dented the slightest bit even though his papa father had violently thrown him at his feet. While examining the little robot’s exterior, he remembered the words his father had implanted inside his brain at a young age.

“You cannot be weak, you must be made of iron.”

“Crying is for boys, you must become a man if you want my approval.”

Filled with a newfound determination, he clutched the robot to his chest and hugged it so tight, it was as if he’d never let it go. 

“You’re stronger than I ever could be,” Tony whispered, voice full of admiration down to the robot. “You’re just how my father wants you to be, made of iron. You’re not even real, yet you’re more of a man than I’ll ever be.” Tony finished, almost enviously. 

“You need a name, a name that people will one day fear and respect. I’m gonna call you,”

Iron Man.

Tony smiled to himself, and happily skipped to his room where he spent the rest of the day tinkering with his new best friend and seeing what else he could do to make Iron Man invincible.

A few months went by, and fall turned into winter, and everything seemed to be going fine, when one day, Tony overheard his father and another woman discussing something urgently.

“Peggy, if the Tesseract is really there, then we have to try and get it! We might never get another opportunity like this!” His father urgently told the woman, as if trying to convince her he was right.

But the woman didn’t budge. “Howard, I know how badly you want the Tesseract to experiment and whatnot on it, but we have no idea how the Tesseract will react after being stuck in the ice for so long!” The woman scolded his father, which was a rare sight to see.

Tony didn’t know what this Tesseract was, but maybe if he could get it, his father would love him and he would become a man just like Iron Man!

Eagerly, the eight year old ran to his father’s lab and used the giant computer to search all existing databases for this Tesseract. 

He kept on sneaking down their to do research for a few more weeks, before his father finally caught him. Luckily, Tony had just had a major breakthrough on how to contain any possible explosion caused by the Tesseract.

It was in December, almost Christmas, when Tony snuck down to the lab and pulled up his research file. He was furiously jotting down notes and scribbling equations when a booming voice echoed throughout the lab.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, boy.” His father said, anger building up in his voice. 

“I-I was ju-just,” Tony stuttered, fidgeting with his hands and looking everywhere in the room except his father. 

“Spit it out, son. What the hell are you doing?!” Howard boomed, his patience wearing thin.

Well here goes nothing, Tony thought.

“I was researching the Tesseract!” Tony blurted out.

His father froze, not expecting such an answer. He quickly recovered and with only a small hint of anger asked Tony why he would do such a thing.

“I j-just wanted to m-make you proud, father. I just wanted you to love me.” Tony confessed, secretly hoping that his father would reassure and hug him. “Do you love me?” He slowly asked, trying to avoid his father’s gaze.

“Tony, I- I,” Howard tried to answer his son’s simple question carefully. “Of course I-,” Howard was cut off by a beeping sound coming from the computer. Father and son rushed over and were amazed by what they saw. 

Feeling a surge of pride in his son, something he hadn’t felt in years, Howard gently ruffled Tony’s hair. 

“I’m proud of you son.”

That was all Tony had ever wanted to hear.

- - - - - - 

With Tony’s research as well as Howard and Peggy’s, in a few months, S.H.I.E.L.D. was able to go and retrieve the Tesseract with zero casualties and zero collateral damage. 

As Howard Stark examined the Tesseract in his lab, there was still one mystery he had yet to solve. What exactly did the Tesseract do? Well, there was only one way to find out.

He looked down at the control panel, and used the surprisingly efficient (with the exception of Dum-E which was the first one) robot hands his son had built to gently grab the Tesseract and move it towards him. He was frightened that touching such a powerful object could vaporize him, so he called his son into the room.

“Son, how would you like to become a hero?” He asked his son, throwing out the bait.

“I would love that, Pa- I mean Father.” He quickly corrected, bashfully glancing up at Howard. 

Howard painted a fake smile on his face and looked back down at his son. He kneeled down, so his face was level with Tony’s and softly said,

“Anthony, I’m proud of you. You’re not made of iron yet, but you’re finally becoming a man. If you hold the Tesseract for me to see how we can use it, you can finally become both; iron and man. Will you make me proud, son?”

Tony jerked his head up. He wasn’t stupid after all, he knew the risks when handling the Tesseract. “But what if-” He started.

“Do you want to become a man made of iron, or not?” His father pressed, his patience wearing thin. 

“Of c-course, f-father.” He stuttered, frightened for what was about to come. He tentatively walked towards the glowing blue cube, and he could practically feel the energy radiating off of it. 

“Go on,” Howard encouraged him. He hadn’t even noticed he’d stopped to admire the entrancing object.

Gingerly, the young boy reached out with his eyes squeezed shut and lightly touched the cube with his index finger. He let out his breath which he hadn’t known he was holding when he wasn’t instantly vaporized the second his flesh touched the cube. 

He looked back at his father to see what he should do next, even though he already knew what was going to come.

“Great job, Anthony! Now you just have to grab it and focus on the energy and channel it through your body. 

Hesitantly, Tony grabbed the Tesseract with both of his small hands, and lifted it up and off of the pedestal it was currently on. By now, a team of S.H.I.E.L.D. scientists and specialists had arrived and were instantly alarmed when they saw a boy who looked no older than eight holding one of the most dangerous and powerful artifacts known to mankind, with his father encouraging him to do so. 

“ARE YOU MAD?! HE’S JUST A CHILD!!” Peggy Carter frantically screamed at Howard, trying to press any button to make it stop. 

“Don’t worry, Margaret, the boy’ll be fine. See?” Howard calmly stated, gesturing to the boy who was holding the cube with an awestruck look on his face. 

“Now Anthony, channel the energy through your body and try to make the Tesseract do something.”

Tony did as his father asked, and focused on the Tesseract’s sheer power and energy. He imagined it flowing through his body and tried to think of his happiest memories to make it do something. He thought of the time he and his father, as well as his mother sat in the living room drinking hot coca as snow was falling outside. Tony Stark thought long and hard about this memory and before he knew it, he was enveloped in blue and grey smoke, filled with electricity and power. 

When he opened his eyes, he was no longer in his father’s lab. In fact, he was in the same exact living room that he had been thinking about in his memories.

So it teleports you! He thought. He ran back down to the lab, grasping the Tesseract in both hands. Tony was panting and sweating furiously by the time he made it back down to the lab, when he realized he could’ve just used the Tesseract to teleport back.

So much for being a genius.

As he approached the lab, he heard his father yelling at all of the scientists and specialists from S.H.I.E.L.D.

Maybe he’s worried about me! Maybe when I come back, he’ll be happy that I’m safe and he’ll finally tell me he loves me! I’ll finally become like Iron Man! Speaking of which, Tony saw the robot outside the lab where he had left it right before all of this happened. He picked up his best and only friend, and walked into the room. What he didn’t expect however was for his father to be hysterical about something missing. Not someone. Something. 

He didn’t care about Tony, all of the frantic screaming and shouting were for the Tesseract, not his only son. With tears streaming down his face, he forgot to compose himself and hesitantly made his presence known. With the Tesseract in one hand, and his robot in the other, he finally spoke to his father.

“Papa?” He asked, hesitantly.

His father whipped around and when he saw the Tesseract, Tony could of sworn he saw a hungry look in his father’s eyes. After a brief second it passed, and his father rushed over and took the Tesseract out of his son’s hands. He had a sick sort of smile on his face and barely even acknowledged his only son. He admired the Tesseract for a few more seconds, and all was silent until Howard broke out of his trance and put the powerful cube back on it’s pedestal.

But Tony couldn’t shake the hungry look in his father’s eyes out of his head.

- - - - - - 

Meanwhile in space, 

. . . 

“Sir, we’ve detected a major energy surge on the planet Terra, it could be the Tesseract.” Ebony Maw informed the Titan sitting on his throne.

“Are you sure?” The Titan’s booming voice echoed throughout the throne room.

“Yes, your lordship.” The Maw pathetically bowed down to him. 

“Maw, set course for the Planet Terra and prepare our finest soldiers.” The Titan ordered The Maw.

“Right away sir.” Said The Maw as he scurried away. 

Once he left, the purple giant felt a smile creep up onto his face.

- - - - - - 

Back on Earth,

. . . 

Tony lay in bed, wondering if his father really loved him. He glanced at his clock. It had been two hours since he’d gone to bed, and it was now just a little past 12:00am. Tony sighed. He wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight anyways, so why not just tinker with Iron Man a little bit? Maybe his father would be proud?

For a few minutes, Tony just sat there on his bedroom floor tinkering with his robot, when he heard a large boom come from outside, followed by a blinding light. Tony had to cover his eyes with one of his hands, and out of fear, he grabbed Iron Man with the other. 

Right then, a blaring alarm went off, one that his father had placed in case anyone ever came and tried to steal the Tesseract from him, as if it was his to begin with. 

His Father!

Knowing him, his father would immediately rush down to his lab if he wasn’t already there, and prepare himself to fight off intruders. Fearing for his Father’s safety and possibly his life, Tony ran down to the lab and skidded to a halt at what he saw in front of him. 

A huge purple giant was looming over his father as he held a long metal sword against Howard Stark’s chest. 

“Where is the Tesseract.” The giant boomed, making it sound more like a demand rather than a question.

The giant was about to push the sword into his father’s chest, when Tony suddenly screamed out of impulse,

“STOP!” Please don’t hurt him, he’s my father!” Tony sobbed, trying to get the huge man to stop.

The purple alien seemed surprised for a second, before a wicked smile crept up onto his face. With a simple nod of his head, two of his minions appeared out of nowhere and grabbed his arms and wouldn’t let him go, no matter how hard he struggled.

“LET ME GO!!” Tony kicked and screamed furiously. 

When one of the giant’s minions clamped his clammy hand over his mouth, Tony promptly bit down on his hand as hard as he could, drawing blue blood from the alien. 

The alien screeched, and proceeded to stab Tony in the neck, but was stopped by the mysterious purple alien. 

“Maw, do not harm the child,” The titan boomed, with what could’ve been a hint of anger in his voice.

Tony swivelled his head around to get a glimpse of the alien who’d just tried to stab him, and much to his delight he looked rather familiar.

“Squidward?! Is that you?? You’re rEaL?!?” Tony excitedly shouted, confusing literally everyone in the room.

“ExCuSe mE?!?” The Maw spoke in a deadly voice, using his telekinesis to lift up a fallen piece of concrete and shave off the sides to turn it into a dagger.

But Tony just ignored his antics, and hugged the blue and grey alien.

“Does this mean that SpongeBob is real too??” Tony excitedly asked him.

“I AM THE MAW, YOU INSOLENT TERRAN CHILD. YOU WILL BOW DOWN BEFORE ME, YOU INFERIOR INSECT.” The Maw yelled at the insolent child in front of him.

“Enough games,” The Titan interrupted, growing tired of the unusual yet amusing Terran child. “Give me the Tesseract and I’ll let you go.”

“Never.” Howard Stark proudly said, looking the menacing purple giant straight in the eye. 

“Well then, I didn’t want to do this, but you leave me no choice,” The Titan said, his voice hinted with regret. “Hand over the Tesseract, and your child lives.” Knowing that the man loved his child too much to lose him over the Tesseract. However, he was quite wrong, and the Terran man boldly looked him in the eyes and proceeded to break the heart of the young Terran boy and the Mad Titan at the same time. 

“That boy is nothing to me. Take him, kill him, leave him, do whatever you want with him. I don’t care. You’re never going to get the Tesseract as long as I’m alive.” Howard Stark said, not knowing those would be his final words. 

Rage consumed the Mad Titan, and before he knew it, Howard Stark’s dead and decapitated body lay before him and his red Terran blood covered the floor surrounding him. The Titan turned to look at the young boy, expecting to see horror and disgust as well as sadness filling his eyes, but to his surprise, he was met with the blank stare of the young boy without a single tear in his eyes. 

“He never loved me, I knew that. He wanted me to be made of iron, like him. He wanted me to be a man. I was never enough for him, but the Tesseract was. He deserved death, he loved no one and no one truly loved him the moment he died. I stopped loving him the moment he told me he didn’t love me.” Tony finished, looking at the Mad Titan with the same steely look his father had. It was full of determination, something that would be useful in a soldier.

A faraway look crossed the young boy’s face, and for a brief moment, everyone in the room felt sorry for him. An unknown emotion surged through Tony’s body, was it hate? sorrow? love? regret? 

He didn’t know.

But for some reason, he felt powerful. Without a second thought, he held out his hand to the Titan, but not for a handshake. Instead, a bright blue light shone from his palm, and it slowly builded up into a cube. 

The Tesseract  

The Titan gave the boy a look of astonishment and stared longly at the Tesseract, but not with greed or hunger like Howard had, but with hope. 

In that single moment, Tony made a decision that would forever change the course of his life.

“I’ll give you the Tesseract, if you promise to take me with you wherever it is you’re going.” Tony boldy said, filled with newfound courage.

The Titan knelt down in front of him, but still towered over the young Terran. He reached out and gently placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder. 

“You’re father was wrong, you are made of iron,” The Titan firmly told the boy. “I will take you with me and train you to become a fearsome warrior. You have my word.” 

Looking into the Titan’s cerulean eyes, much like his father’s, he handed the Tesseract over to the giant. 

“Before we go, I want to know your name, mister.” Tony asked the Titan.

“My name is Thanos,” He said, with a hint of a smile on his face. “What’s yours, little one?” He asked the young boy, extending his other hand out for Tony to take.

Tony grabbed his robot in one hand, and took Thanos’ with the other.

“Tony. Tony Stark.” 

[babbushka]

My dearest Zannah! Your writing is such a huge inspiration for me, like honestly you and your works have inspired me countless times to pick up a pen or sit down to type at a keyboard. I'm curious about how you write smut, and how you're motivated to write it... does writing smut come naturally to you or... I find it 'hard' to write, to make it accurate and feel real. (I'm a 22 y/o virgin,so I find it a little difficult to make things seem real) Any advice you've got would be greatly appreciated

I personally find it very easy to write smut because I am constantly thirsty over these characters lmao and since it has been a few years since I’ve been in a relationship where I could have sex (not that that sex was particularly good, mind you), I live vicariously through my writing. 

So for me personally, I write the kind of sex that I want to have. In the beginning I used to be kind of too embarrassed to be graphic, but the truth of the matter is -- sex is graphic! Not in a negative way, just in a way that it is a very explicit act, and often I feel that when writers shy away from it, like when they use every other word for dick, or when random innuendos are thrown in instead of just, describing the act, it can make it seem like something the characters don’t really want to be doing, which can travel into the realm of feeling coercive and that’s not really anything that I like to advocate. 

So I suppose the first piece of advice that I have is to decide right away if you’re going to write your sex scenes realistically, or make it totally a fantasy. Depending on your characters or the type of AU that it is, you can get away with like, avoiding certain aspects about sex, or you can enhance your sex scenes with whatever powers or rules for that universe you’ve created. For example, I know Force-Fucking isn’t a realistic thing, but in the “canon” star wars universe, it’s definitely something that can exist, and I have a lot of fun coming up with the rules for how that works. 

Otherwise though, I find a lot of the time realistic sex scenes with all their quirks and flaws can make things feel much more fleshed out (pun intended lol). By this I mean things like, pointing out how gross sex can kinda be. It’s not all roses and rainbows like a lot of people want to pretend it is (although if that’s the vibe you’re going for, then that’s fine, it’s just not realistic).

There are embarrassing noises from air and a whole lot of wetness smearing around, there are missed thrusts or someone’s dick/fingers/hand being too rough or missing their mark, there’s coming too quickly, a lot of spit and drool, sweat, laughing, crying – all the very normal bodily functions that tend to go along with having sex can really put some charm into them. It normalizes things, and doesn’t make it feel forced or fake.

Which leads me to my next piece of advice; I would avoid watching professional porn and thinking that’s what real sex is like. Because it just, isn’t. Unless you’re going for a porn AU and you want your sex scenes to feel corporate, where everything is very scripted and squeaky clean and easy and everyone is clean shaven and waxed and are actors. That’s not very fun, in my opinion, nor is it very human. 

So to counter this, especially for someone who isn’t experienced (which, no shame whatsoever! read the type of NSFW content you want to write!! The more you read, the more you’ll discover things you like – and things you don’t like. 

I think that often, knowing what you don’t want to write is more helpful than what you do, because you can avoid that particular style/kink/scene/trope, and work towards something that’s your own even if you haven’t actually done any of it yourself. Becoming more and more familiar with different types of sex and different ways to experience sex only can prepare you more, so I highly recommend it! 

Along with that, i’d suggest do some research from actual reputable sex education sites, not just the first link on google! A lot of people have ideas about what certain kinks or like bdsm stuff is and it’s just…not…what that is. For example, just because someone is on top during sex doesn’t mean they’re automatically a dom, and by that same account, just because someone likes getting tied up doesn’t automatically mean they’re a sub. Calling someone daddy during sex Is Not The Same as someone having a daddy kink. I think the more exposure you have to different types of sexual escapades, the more informed you’ll be about what’s actually what!

At the end of the day though, drawing on your own desires and your own fantasies is always going to make writing easier for you. You don’t have to have had sex to write sex scenes. I think having that experience certainly makes it come a little more naturally (again, pun intended i’m so sorry lol), but that’s certainly not to say that you’re forbidden from writing it. 

If you have any scenes in your head that you imagine, or that you dream about, or any fantasies that maybe bounce around in the back of your head, why not explore them on the page? It might give you a jumping-off point to write the scenes you actually want or envision for your characters. 

I hope any of this was helpful or made sense, and thank you again for asking!

[ouijaban]

ulquihime week day 5

@ulquihimeweek

day 5: partnership

As she sat in the cushy waiting room of police chief Aizen Sousuke, Inoue Orihime could feel the jitters in her stomach congealing into one monstrous butterfly. She’d been waiting for the opportunity to confront him for months – years, if she was counting the period of time when she didn’t know what he’d done – but now that the moment had arrived that she would finally be taking action, it was getting hard to convince herself that she would live to see another day.

Of course, it was only to be expected that she would be intimidated – no one would feel totally confident striding into the most well-loved public figure in Tokyo’s office and accusing him of murder in front of all his employees, who evidently came with their own set of yakuza connections. One step into Kabukichou and she’d probably get sniped even if Aizen didn’t blow her brains out beforehand, which was unfortunate given that she worked in Shinjuku and commuted to her job by train every single day from her modest apartment in Ikebukuro, a trip that was just barely shy of going right into the neighborhood.

Still, even as her palms were sweating and she was fidgeting on the sofa, she knew that she had to do this. For Sora-nii. She owed him that, at the very least.

“Inoue-san?” a pleasant voice called from a nearby desk, making the hairs on Orihime’s neck stand on end. This was it. “Aizen-sama will see you now. You may proceed to his office.”

Orihime’s lip curled over in a disgust that surprised even her as she scooped up her purse and wiped her moist palms off on her skirt, walking through the row of neatly arranged desks to reach the imposing room at the end of the procession. Of course the worst man in Tokyo would force his employees to call him Aizen-sama. It was just like everything Orihime had researched had told her – he really was a raging narcissist on top of being a kingpin.

After what felt like years of walking, she stopped in front of the large door, eyeing the small metal sign resting on top of the doorknob. Aizen Sousuke, chief of police, it read in embossed print.

“Okay, Orihime,” she whispered to herself, pulling down her work skirt and straightening her posture. “This is it.” Grimacing, she raised her hand, and knocked twice, the sound loud in the quiet station.

A few seconds later, the door unlocked with a satisfying click, swinging open to reveal the man Orihime hated more than anyone else in the whole world. Aizen Sousuke looked like he did in all the interviews and TV specials that aired on Saturday nights. His brown hair was perfectly coiffed and his skin was pleasantly tanned, despite it being a rather chilly September. He wore nothing more expensive than the outfit of an average salaryman, but it was completely unwrinkled, ironed out to perfection like the rest of him. To top it all off, a pair of glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, making him seem like ever the unassuming, honest worker. Not like someone who would murder the last close family member of a highschool girl, but appearances could obviously be deceiving.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” said Aizen, gesturing behind him for her to come in. “Here, here, take a seat. Would you like some tea? Hinamori-san would gladly pour you some.”

“No, thank you,” said Orihime, sitting down on the chair nearest to the door just in case she needed to pull off a daring escape. The room was more ornate than she’d anticipated, decorated with several portraits and a really expensive looking rug, though it made sense given his personality. Simple on the outside and decked out on the inside was exactly Aizen’s style.

“Fair enough,” he said, winking in a way that was clearly supposed to be charming in Orihime’s direction. He ambled over to his desk, plopping down in his large seat before turning back to her. “I was quite surprised when you contacted me, Inoue-chan. After all that nasty business with your brother a few years ago, I would’ve thought you would be reluctant to speak with me. You were for good reason extremely upset at the time, but I can’t express how happy I am that we’ve reconciled. Oh,” he said with delight, “and you’re still wearing your brother’s hairpins! How lovely to pay such a nice tribute to him. He would be very proud, I’m sure.”

Orihime suppressed the urge to shudder. There was something so slimy about Aizen despite his unassuming facade – the informal way he addressed her, perhaps, or the calculation behind his words. She just knew he was analyzing her for weaknesses behind his pleasant mask, like a fox sizing up a helpless rabbit. “Yes,” she said finally, managing a weak smile. “I was… wrong, to accuse you. I know that now. But,” here it was, the moment of truth, “the driver of the car – Detective Luisenbaum, I think his name was – died in a car crash too, the same year as Sora-nii. That’s pretty strange, isn’t it, Aizen-san?”

Aizen laughed, and joked, “I suppose that is out of the ordinary. Perhaps we should have a mandatory driving test before we hire people onto the force, eh?”

Orihime’s nails dug a little further into her palm. Though she wasn’t much prone to violence, she wanted to slap the living daylights out of him. What a sick, disgusting man – even if he weren’t selling the Tokyo police out to the yakuza, his callousness in the face of the deaths of his employees was extremely disturbing. “Maybe,” she said, struggling to maintain a level tone. “But the force should also probably invest in better venues, too. I’m not really sure why Sora-nii had to go all the way to Yokohama to pay my father’s bail. He was being held at the Shinjuku Police Station, right? Did they relocate him?”

Aizen’s rakish smile dropped off his face. “Oh, Inoue-chan,” he sighed, massaging his temples seemingly in frustration. “I thought you knew better than that. I don’t mean to rehash this discussion, but exactly what are you implying here?”

Orihime gulped in fear, but jutted her chin out defiantly nonetheless, lacing her fingers together and leaning forwards to say, “Aizen-san, I’m certain that I wasn’t wrong to accuse you of killing my brother ten years ago. And if what I know is right, then you’ve murdered a lot of other people to get where you are today. I might’ve been a child back then, but I had more integrity when I was only twelve years old than you do now. I’m ashamed that someone like you has so much power in our justice system.”

The police chief dipped his head at her, then shrugged. “Alright, Inoue-chan, I’ll play your little game. Let’s say for the sake of this hypothetical situation that I did kill your brother and countless other people. Let’s even say I enjoyed doing it. What would you do to stop me? Would you expose my crimes to a reporter and shock the Japanese people? Don’t think I haven’t noticed the recording device in your pocket. It’s a shame you’re so green; if I really were a criminal of the sort that you allege I am, you could’ve really done a number on me with that one.”

Orihime’s fingers were trembling as they closed around the tape recorder in her blazer pocket, fingering the off switch. It would do her no good now – there was no doubt in her mind that Aizen was about to make her disappear.

He chuckled at her, and shook his head. “Let’s not get to deep into theoreticals, though.” He checked his inexpensive watch and faked a shocked gasp at the time, tutting softly to himself. “Well, I believe our little rendezvous has extended past the allotted time. Let’s wrap this up quickly then. It would be a terrible shame if your brother’s widow and little Mayu-chan found out about his gambling problem, hmm? And since apparently we’re the type to throw around baseless accusations, a horrible rumor about Sora’s indiscretions with women of the night could reach their innocent ears, too. Even worse, Mayu-chan could lose her highschool scholarship! Now that really would be horrible. I heard they were tight on money these days.”

Hot tears welled in Orihime’s eyes, and she averted her gaze to the ugly carpet, blinking furiously to avoid crying in front of Aizen. She couldn’t believe how unrelentingly sociopathic he was. He hadn’t changed at all since he knocked on her door that one fateful day ten years ago and delivered to her the news that would change her life forever.

“But none of those things have to happen if you try to make up for insulting me so badly, Inoue-chan,” said Aizen consolingly. “You interest me. You’re an office secretary at S. corp, that new pharmaceutical company that’s been gaining so much stock recently. As a police chief, it’s my duty to watch over my constituents, and I don’t know how much I trust the CEO to keep the needs of the people in mind. Urahara… Kensuke, was it? Right?” he tilted his head in contemplation before snapping his fingers in a moment of realization. “Oh, no, of course not. Urahara Kisuke, that’s what it is. Well, either way, I’m going to need you to gather me information on him. I’ll give you small tasks, don’t worry, and you’ll be receiving specific instructions from me at various dates. Think of it as a public service!”

Despite herself, tears dripped down Orihime’s cheeks, leaving wet splotches on the blurred ground beneath her feet. Aizen had to have realized that serving as his dog was the most humiliating thing he could subject her to. She would prefer even death to actively encouraging his interests.

“Oh, cheer up,” crooned Aizen. “Here, I’ll even assign you a helper! He’ll have to look after you at home to make sure you don’t run, of course, but I promise he’s a personable man.” He rose to his feet, and pulled open the door, peering out into the office beyond. “Ulquiorra!” he called out, cupping his hands around his mouth. “I’ve got an assignment for you!”

Orihime wiped off her face and tried to reign in her trembling lower lip as she heard a new set of footsteps approaching in an attempt to calm herself down, but even she realized that it came off as hollow. Anyone who looked at her would immediately realize that she’d been crying, especially someone perceptive enough to be a member of Aizen’s staff.

“Which of my services do you require, Aizen-sama?” said a deep voice just beyond the office door. There was something very unnerving about his voice, something unnatural. Though she hadn’t been expecting anyone with the emotional spectrum of Chizuru to be at Aizen’s beck and call, Orihime couldn’t detect even a single ounce of feeling in anything the person she assumed was Ulquiorra had said.

“Probably all of them and then some,” replied Aizen. “Come in, come in – we have a guest!”

He pushed open the door and sauntered back to where Orihime sat, followed by an extremely pale man with the strangest facial features she’d ever encountered. His eyes were a shade of green that by all means should have been vibrant, but were instead afflicted with a peculiar hollowness, the exact same kind that she had sensed in his voice earlier. His lips were thin and pressed together, so dark they were nearly black, and his black hair fell in a quasi-mullet around his thin shoulders.

“Inoue-chan,” said Aizen, pointing a finger at the stranger, “this is one of my top employees, Detective Schiffer Ulquiorra. And Ulquiorra, this is our new business associate, Inoue Orihime. You’ll be working very closely together from now on.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” said Ulquiorra, bowing slightly before extending a hand in Orihime’s direction. “I hope that we will act well together as partners.”

“Partners,” murmured Orihime, bowing her head and touching her hand to Ulquiorra’s. “Right.”

[boysoverroses-blog]

Alyuin (1)

Alyiun Club:

You'd think that managing a business is easy and there are no troubles that find you, other than miscalculated reports. But not this one, for various reasons. One being, the business in question is a club and second, it is managed by 9 girls. It's safe to say they were pretty good at their job. The occasional fights break out and they resolve them pretty quickly, but this one needed a little more attention.

Sang Soo was behind the bar, bartending, it was her hobby and quite frankly she was good at it. It's also a great place to keep an eye on the customers. As she made drinks she surveyed the surroundings. Her eyes zeroed in on two guys, who were manhandling two of the waitresses that work there, Min Ji and Seo Yun. Sang Soo’s eyes were glued on the scene for a few minutes, her gaze hardening when she took in the girls uncomfortable state. She was about to ring the security when Yong Sang came out from the back.

“I see them but we can't do anything yet, they have already paid and should leave soon,” she spoke with a calm voice but you could see the hardness in her eyes. Sang Soo released a slow breath before turning her back to the crowd.

“If they don’t leave I am kicking them out. The girls are uncomfortable, they seem to know each other.” Sang Soo stated.

“Nevertheless I'll call Ji Mi out” Yong Sang threw over her shoulder as she made her way to Ji Mi’s office.

Sang Soo rolled her eyes and murmured, ‘I can take care of myself’, before huffing and finishing a margarita for a short blonde girl.

‘Clearly, you forgot about the in-ear piece because you didn't even try to hide your growling’ Rae Jae’s voice rang through Sang Soo’s right ear. She swore in her head and let out a ‘sorry’.

“It’s fine, I see them too, and it’s disgusting, I can’t wait for the show”

“There won't be one” a voice cut in before Sang Soo could reply with an eager ‘hell yeah’. Sang Soo’s eagerness died in her throat as she realized that Ji Mi had decided to join their conversation but was nowhere in sight.

“Somehow you manage to ruin my fun without even moving a finger,” Sang Soo grunted under her breath while shooting a customer a friendly smile as they decided to leave in favor of the dance floor. She turned at the call of another customer,

“Blue Martini” his voice cut through the loud music. She nodded and started making the cocktail before turning her attention back to the two guys. Je Ki’s voice cut through the earpiece asking whose voice is that and why it was that deep, but that was the least of Sang Soo’s worries right now, the situation wasn't looking very good.

“Do something or I’ll be kicking their asses out of here!” Sang Soo growled as she watched Ji Mi approach the two guys that were holding the two struggling girls. Sang Soo kept her eyes on the scene while also making the guy’s drink. When she got the hint that they weren’t budging and decided that it was the last straw.

“I am going in” she murmured before turning to the cat-eyed deep voice customer. He looked at her with an interested smirk.

“Excuse me, I'll have your drink ready in a minute, but I have to deal with a mild inconvenience first.” she excused herself before taking off her apron and sliding over the counter, making her way to the two guys she's been wanting to beat the whole time they've been here. The cat-eyed customer turned to watch what the cute bartender was going to do to the two gorilla-sized men.

“Is there a problem?” she menacingly asked. Ji Mi turned to her and said that they refuse to leave.

“She asked you politely to leave” she repeated with a glare.

“I see no reason for us to leave when we’re not done,” one of the buffoons said, still holding on Min Ji, who up close looked like she wanted to cry.

“Please let go of my employees and escort yourselves out before I call the security guards,” Sang Soo said sharply to the two men. Seo Yun literally looked so done, she tried to rip herself out of the man’s grip but he tightened his hold and she scrunched up her face in pain.

“It's against regulations to harass the waitresses,” Ji Mi said with a deadpan voice, her patience running thin.

“They’re not waitresses here, they quit.” the man holding Seo Yun spits out with a disgusting smile.

“You have no right to say that. You have no power over me anymore, we broke up. Get it through your thick dumb head” Seo Yun raised her voice, while Min Ji nodded her head.

‘‘How the fuck did you even know that they knew one another, Sang Soo?” Yong Sang asked her through the earpiece.

“Clearly, they’re uncomfortable and have already ended things with each other” Sang Soo said matter of factly and looked the intruders straight in the eyes “so, you should either get out on your own or I'll have to kick your asses out myself.” Sang Soo threatened.

The cat-eyed customer raised a questioning eyebrow. His attention shifted when someone took the previous bartenders’ position. Her name tag said, Hyo Gun. Her attention was on the scene before them. He turns back to see the two men face to face with Sang Soo and the brown haired girl.

“And how are you going to do that, bitch?” he spat in her face.

Sang Soo smirked at the curse word and buffed her chest even more “Well, you see, the security guard will take around 30 seconds to arrive here and in those 30 seconds I can dislocate both your shoulders and break your nose without breaking a sweat.” she nonchalantly said staring intently at them.

“You think you can take us?” the other one responded to her threat.

“Just try me.” she challenged. She could beat them up if she wanted to, but she doesn't want to start a fight. That would just end with her getting in trouble for initiating a fight with a customer. It would be better if the customer throws the first punch. Everything after that would've been a self-defense act and if anything she could get a bonus or a raise.

“Please, remove yourselves from the premises immediately.” she tried again. In a blink of an eye, one of the men threw a punch her way. Fortunately, she caught it with ease. “You leave me no choice.” she sighed, her face showed disinterest before it morphed into hatred.

The customer at the bar was caught off guard when she easily twisted his arm behind his back. He could vaguely hear the girl, Hyo Gun, behind him calling for the security guards.

Once the other guy processed that a fight had started, he turned to Ji Mi and moved his first in her direction. She easily avoided him, as he was more wasted than the man Sang Soo was handling. She hit the side of his head to disorient him. The two waitresses had already left the scene and gone to the back to report to Soo Mi since she's kinda in charge of damage control.

The two girls had kicked their asses when the security guards finally showed up. One of the two men was passed out cold while the other one had a busted lip. To say he was pissed would be an understatement.

“You're banned from coming here ever again.” Ji Mi calmly said. Sang Soo waved her hand sarcastically before returning to her post behind the bar. Hyo Gun helped around for a while before going to the back.

The handsome stranger was surprised, as he didn't think that this would happen. They were very intriguing. He turned to Sang Soo, who looked as if she didn't just beat a man twice her size. He had very good attention to details. He was watching the fight and he knows for a fact that Sang Soo received one of hell of a punch to her left side, which was unprotected. She had a blind spot, she didn't protect her left side. But he’ll give her props, she knew a lot based on her performance, and so did the other girl, which is weird. He knows for a fact that when they’re hiring they don’t look for a specific requirement, like knowing self-defence. He would know this since he co-owns this club. He isn't surprised that they don't know who he is, because frankly, he doesn't know them either, but they made an impression, so he's going to make Kyungsoo and Jongdae dig.

“I am sorry, can you repeat your drink again?” she asked him.

“Blue Martini” he repeated. She nodded and finished his drink a lot faster than before.

“I think you need to take your break” Hyun Jin came out, tying her apron and taking over.

“I know you say you’re fine, but Sang Hee wants to check on you, you were sloppy and he got a hit on you.” she continued knowing that Sang Soo was going to argue.

Cat-eyed stranger, Minseok, lifted his head slightly. He looked around and saw the security cameras that were stationed at every corner, then back at the new bartender. He could see the earpiece in her left ear through her hair. He may not know who he hired, but he does know what they provide to workers, and it's definitely not earpieces. He paid for his drink and made his way to the house. He needed to do some research, this wasn’t over.

“Fine, but he really was tipsy so his ‘hits’ were even that hard” she excused herself and made her way to the back only to meet Sang Hee half the way.

“You worry too much” Sang Soo muttered to Sang Hee, who was already peeling a bruise patch.

“And because I worry too much I saved you from internal bleeding last month, which means that you shouldn't have fought at all!” she huffed.

“I couldn't help it, besides I was itching for a fight. I haven't punched anything in the last three weeks.” Sang Soo whined.

“You’re a bartender, you shouldn't be fighting at all, we have security guards for that,” Rae Jae stated coming in the locker room.

“How come no one is scolding Ji Mi?” Sang Soo whined looking at a crossed arm upset Ji Mi.

“Oh, come on, not you too!” Sang Soo whined again.

“Control your anger” she commented. Je Ki came in and had a piece of paper.

“Well, congratulations! You kicked ass in front of the owner of the club.” she fake cheered.

“Look, I know we won't get fired. she sighed. “I think it was the blue martini guy” she added, catching their attention.

“Why?”

“The letter said, he’ll order a blue martini if he's satisfied.”

“Hey at least he was still satisfied.” Hyun Jin said.

“Fun” Sang Hee uttered. Soo Mi came in and looked at the scene and sighed before sitting down.

“The girls are okay, we’re relocating them to Love Shot just in case.”

[reifromrfa]

RFA guys + Minor Duo react to MC having Superpowers

Hi anon!!! I haven’t watched Stranger Things but I looked up Eleven’s telekinesis video and also basing this from Jean Grey from X-men and Matilda :)) Also, I was halfway through this hc when @justanuser1​ ‘s request came in about MC having superpowers so I kind of just combined them, I hope you guys don’t mind! 😃

Hope you guys like it! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Yoosung

He’s rushing home because he can’t wait to see you

So he’s back a little earlier than you expected

And what does Yoosung see when he opens the door?

Carrots being chopped by the kitchen knife

Just the kitchen knife

He watches as the knife hovers in the air and comes down on the vegetables

You had your back turned and you were listening to music so you didn’t see your pale husband

But you heard his blood-curling scream

The whole neighborhood heard him ;;;

“Yoosungie, it’s not what you think!”

“MC THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED WE ARE MOVING OUT”

“Yoosung—“

“NO. NOPE. PACK YOUR VALUABLES WE’RE MOVING OUT RIGHT NOW.”

“No we’re not! It was me! It’s my fault!”

You calm him down long enough to explain about your powers and you thought it would freak him out more

Nope

YOU ARE NOW THE COOLEST GIRLFRIEND EVER

This guy is such a huge geek that he immediately fanboys over you and asks you a million questions

“But Yoosung this has to be a secret.”

“Of course! I know how superheroes work.”

And you’re laughing because he goes from panicked to adoring in 5 seconds

He loves that you have powers but he still freaks out whenever he sees things hovering in your house

He adjusts eventually though, and now that he knows he encourages you practicing your powers at home

Always goes to get a physical check-up with you though, because he doesn’t want you straining yourself physically and in movies don’t people who use their powers too much end up suffering physically?

And Yoosung will always be careful not to brag about you too much because he doesn’t want anybody else to find out about your powers

He enjoys playing pranks on Saeyoung with you though

REVENGE!!!! ┻━┻ ︵ヽ(`Д´)ﾉ︵ ┻━┻

Zen

Sometimes he’s not sure if he’s had too much to drink or if his girlfriend has superpowers

Because things are floating around in the apartment you guys shared

He tries to stay sober most of the time but then the floating would stop

But then he comes home after only having one beer with his coworkers

And suddenly his keys are hovering in the air in front of him?

He’s genuinely freaked out

Until he hears you giggling

“Jagiya, do you have telekinesis?”

And you’re shocked but then you confess that you do

He thinks you’re amazing

Because he had prophetic dreams ever since he could remember and now he feels like you guys are connected

And he’s even happier that you guys have something that’s both unique, that you have a secret only he knows of

He loves it when you use your abilities around the house, it’s so fascinating to him

He would try to research on it with you on his days off, because he also wants to find out more about your abilities and how it would affect you

Ehem this guy may also have to look up how to keep you from making objects fly around in moments of extreme pleasure (  ͡°  ͜ ʖ  ͡°)

“Babe, I’m going to rock your world.”

Pretty sure it’ll be the other way around, Zenny~

Jumin

You confess to him that you telekinesis over dinner

And you’re super nervous, watching his every move

But your husband just continues to eat his dinner, unperturbed

It’s like you told him something about the weather instead of saying you have supernatural abilities

“Honey, did you just hear what I said?”

He would look at you and say, “Of course I did. I find it highly interesting and I have a lot of questions but if I asked them now you wouldn’t be able to finish your meal. Is it alright if we discuss this after we’ve had our meal?”

Your well-being always comes first

So after dinner, he begins his barrage of questions

“Does it affect you negatively in any way? Do you feel tired after using your powers? How much weight can you lift with your abilities?”

And you answer him as best as you could, because there isn’t exactly a guide book for telekinesis ;;;

And he knows that too

Jumin also knows he can’t ask anybody about this because it’s too dangerous for you; he knew a lot of people would try to kidnap you and use you for their own profit

So you two learn about your abilities together

He’s so fascinated by you —everything about you

And he already thought you were perfect

But now you’re more than perfect, if that was possible

He makes sure nobody comes into your apartment when you’re there, not even the maid because what would happen if she accidentally saw hovering objects? ;;;

Also tightens security; your safety is his number one priority

Saeyoung

He always wondered why you had so many profile pictures in the RFA app

And they're all of different women with very different features

You tell him it's photos of your friends

??? O-kaaaaaaay…

He starts researching about your “friends” and is shocked to find out they all have the same birthdays

And “they" all work from home

And “they" all listed Honey Buddha Chips as their favorite food

But “they” all have different names though

This guy already knows what’s going on, but to be sure, he calls out to you using one of your “friends” names

And you turn around, “Hm?”

Ahhh holy shit ;;;;

You freeze as you realize what you just did

And Saeyoung comes up behind you and hugs you tight from behind

“I know what you are…” he would whisper in your ear

“Say it. Out loud.”

“…a vampire.”

Lol what Saeyoung no

But then your hair gets shorter and you get taller and suddenly Saeyoung is hugging Edward Cullen from Twilight????

Miind. Blown.

This guy doesn’t let you go though and he only presses his lips against yours

“Saeyoung, aren’t you weirded out by me?”

ARE YOU KIDDING?

THIS GUY WORSHIPS YOU

Your ability to transform into anyone —anyone at all —is the coolest thing ever

Apparently you had so many identities because a few government people were looking for you and you had to be prepared, just in case one cover gets blown

Agent 707 on the job!

Hacks into the government database and makes sure all data about you is deleted, all leads wiped clean

He will protect you at all costs, but he also loves cosplaying with you

Lol if you can call actually transforming into Jumin cosplaying

You scare him a lot by transforming into Vanderwood and creeping up behind him

That is until Vanderwood walks in on you looking like him but hugging Saeyoung ;;;

Poor Vanderwood is scarred for life

Lol Saeyoung is too tbh AHAHA he hates it when you transform into Vanderwood ;;;

And now Saeyoung makes Vanderwood swear never to tell another living soul about your abilities ;;;

Jihyun/V

He has to remind himself that yes, he’s gotten the treatment for his eyes

Yes, he’s not seeing things

Yes, you’re actually floating in the air in front of him

You were nervous about telling him about the fact that you can fly, but you also didn’t like keeping secrets from him

V is quiet for a long time

And then he grabs his camera and takes a photo of you

He loves you and accepts you for what you are and what you can do

In fact, he wants you to become his new muse

“But V, nobody can know about my powers” ;;;

“Ah, people know I’m very good with Photoshop anyway.”

He loves taking photos of you while you’re flying around the house and sometimes you’d even surprise him by flying behind him and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek

He thinks of you as his angel and sometimes he realizes that he’s staring at you too long, grinning like a fool

A fool in love

He’d make sure to get curtains for the windows in his house though, to make sure no one ever finds out about your powers

He would love to work on an exhibit with photos of you flying

He would call his exhibit, “Angel from Heaven”

Saeran

He always wonders why you were always so damn cold

Even when all the aircons, fans, windows are closed and he’s sweating profusely, your skin is still cold to the touch

Until finally you tell him you never feel hot or sweat because you have superpowers

And he just blinks at you

And you create a small flurry around him and Saeran is shook

He’s never one for words but you can see it in his eyes that he’s awed by you

“Show me more.”

And so you do

When Saeyoung isn’t home, you freeze the floor of his bunker and Saeran immediately slips, falling on his butt

And you’re laughing because he’s angrily avoiding your gaze, cheeks red

You teach him how to skate and you two end up slipping a lot, but that’s okay because Saeran is actually laughing and having fun

You also make him bing su (shaved ice desserts?) right from your fingertips and top it off with loads of sweet toppings and he’s the happiest man alive

Seriously, he will never let you go, this man wants you all to himself

He would never tell anyone your secret of course, except Saeyoung

And he would encourage you to be yourself when you’re at home, not holding back your powers or anything

He’s secretly glad that you have powers so you can defend yourself, but he’s also scared someone might take you away from him (because he’s afraid something bad will happen to Saeyoung one of these days too) so whenever you’re not looking, he’ll go through private companies’ databases to make sure no one knows about you

Vanderwood

You were curled up in bed by the time he finished cleaning the apartment you shared

And as he stepped out of the shower, he hears you cry out

“No! Get away!”

Vanderwood rushes out of the bathroom wrapped only in his towel and he immediately scans the room for signs of any intruders

But he sees that you’re still in bed, eyes shut tight and he realizes you’re only having a nightmare

It looks like you’re reaching for something though, because your hands are pointed at the ceiling and holy shit everything in the room was hovering in the air

Vanderwood just stands there and blinks, not knowing what to do

“Help!”

Everything starts shaking and Vanderwood rushes to your side and grabs your shoulders

“MC! MC, wake up!”

And when you open your eyes everything falls to the floor

And you're staring into the anxious eyes of your boyfriend

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, but what’s going—”

You see the mess around you and realize you must have used your powers in your sleep

Lol now Vanderwood would have to clean the room again hahahaha

So you tell Vanderwood everything and he only sighs

“I thought I had secrets,” he would mutter

He’s more worried about you now because if the wrong people found out about you, you’d get taken away

He knows how these things work, he’s a secret agent

So he always makes it a point to check whether anybody has any leads on you but thankfully there aren’t

Insists that you don’t walk around alone at night and asks Saeyoung to fortify the defenses around the apartment

He’s amazed at your powers but mostly this man would be concerned for your safety because he doesn’t want anybody to perform experiments on you

Of course he’s also fucking turned on because he’s into weapons and his girlfriend doesn’t even need weapons, you could defend yourself with just your thoughts omfg

Check out my other Mysme writings here!

Mango Shake/Ko-fi is always very much appreciated (ᵔᴥᵔ)

I’d be honored to write your story <3

Get extra content by becoming a Patron! :)

[lonelypond]

Casual Lunacy, Ch. 38

Love Live, NicoMaki, 2.3 K, 38/?

Nico’s heart was racing. Umi had sent the text about Maki and Rin 20 minutes ago, when Nico had been onstage and not near her phone. Nico had never changed so fast, leaving her clothes in a heap on the dressing room floor, to the surprise of everyone else in the room. Kotori would understand and Nico didn’t really give a damn what Anju thought. Barely into her coat, she sprinted out the front door, listening for any clue. Umi texted she was going to call Kotori and pick up Honoka, but Nico wasn’t going to wait…

Perhaps behind the building? Nico sprinted to the corner, parka open, wind cold, and heard the growling. As she cleared the corner, her heart stopped for a moment, there was Maki, barefoot, in a t-shirt and sweats, desperately trying to pin a wolfish Rin to the ground. Even in this light, Nico could see where Maki was torn and bleeding.

Nico. Maki hesitated for an instant, her head lifting away from Rin’s neck as the smell of musk and peach and vanilla and magic and...fear hit her system. Rin dipped lower and shoved forward with her hindquarters, breaking a distracted Maki’s hold, running toward where Nico had come from, there must be a door, people would be coming out, Rin could…

Too many impulses, tongue flicking out, eyes narrowing on Rin’s neck, the waning moon teasing as it turned to strength, Nico’s fear and worry, adrenaline zinging like electrified air around all of them, Rin’s bloodlust...Maki snarled, shaking her head, ears flattening, and in a second changed, shredding constricting clothes with her claws, as Rin charged in Nico’s direction.

“No” it was a scream and a howl and Rin’s neck was in Maki’s mouth and Nico was standing very still and the world froze…

“Rin?” Hanayo’s voice broke through the whining, warring howls.

With a new surge, Rin pushed backwards, and Maki was on the ground and Nico was cursing and Hanayo was running and the air was wet with worry and fury and blood. Rin flipped, but couldn’t grab Maki’s neck so snapped her jaw on Maki’s front leg and the red wolf whimpered and Nico’s smell suddenly changed from fear to determination.

“Stop it.’ Nico’s voice rang across the Lakefill, without being a shout, “Rin.”

“Rin?” Hanayo’s despairing plea merged with Nico’s command, and terror darkened her usual sunshine, sweet rice, and wisteria scent. Rin was confused. Where was the threat to Kayo-chin? That moment cost Rin her temporary advantage and Maki was back on her paws, snarling and about to leap. Nico, looming suddenly, was heading toward Maki and Rin felt arms around her neck, Kayo-chin sobbing into her shoulders, “Rin....please, stop.” When had Kayo-chin starting smelling this dim, this heartsore?

Maki was limping, glaring at Rin, about to make a final charge and Nico was there with Maki, near Maki, connected, both their eyes locked on Rin’s, Nico reflecting Maki’s growing assurance, not a drag on her...like Kayo-chin was dragging Rin back...but Kayo-chin would never not help, so why...Rin crouched, uncertain and Maki loped over, easily, boldly, ignoring the sharp pain in her foreleg, forcing the smaller werewolf’s head under her own head and chest. Nico was trying not to shiver as the Lakefill went quiet and Umi and Honoka tore around the corner. Nico held up a hand, not taking her eyes off the werewolves and Umi held her bo staff at the ready in one hand and Honoka back with the other.

Maki’s move had forced Hanayo to let go and she was in the snow, shoving her glasses in her coat pocket so she could wipe away the tears. Rin whimpered, frightened, pacing a half circle, but Maki’s weight on her head and shoulders was a yoke, a constant reminder of the larger wolf’s menace. Rin let out a few half hearted whimpers of complaint, but Maki’s musk just intensified, half her body weight forcing Rin lower, and Rin realized that her mistake had been rushing in Nico’s direction. And as Maki controlled Rin’s motion, powerful, protective, sensual, possessive, all that washed over Rin, already struggling with her own mate’s fear and worry. Maki growled, letting Rin up but only to bite the nape of Rin’s neck, rumbling a threat, deliberately puncturing the fur and muscle, and a pained Rin whined surrender. With a huff, certain she’d gotten her message across, Maki tapped Rin with her chin and stepped to the side, Rin immediately rushing to Kayo-chin, who touched the bloody marks Maki had left, “Rin…”

Rin whined and pushed Hanayo to her feet, neither of them glancing back to where Maki held the ground in front of Nico. When they had moved out of sight, Maki shifted to her left foreleg, sagging as Nico knelt in front of her, about to reach for her leg. Maki yelped.

“We have to take care of that, pretty girl. Rin did a job on you.”

Maki growled, then lowered her head with a softer whine.

“Yes, Nico knows you didn’t want to bite your friend.” Nico closed her eyes, and pushed her forehead into the soft fur of Maki’s, “It was hard to watch you get hurt, Maki. Let me take care of you, please.”

The softness in Nico’s tone, the calm concern, the care, drained Maki’s adrenaline and she stumbled, falling to her side.

“Honoka get the car, Umi, help me with her before someone else comes out here,” Nico was grateful it was a cold, dark February night and the Lakefill was empty. She could feel herself trembling, her arms unsteady as she gathered Maki into them, but Nico wouldn’t scream or cry. Tomorrow. Alone. Scream and cry. Nico bit her lip, willing warmth into a frigid Maki as Umi’s arms helped her cradle the wounded werewolf.

Eli was wrapping her scarf around her neck, while the persistent Nozomi was getting shooshed away by a territorial Erena one last time. Kotori, her face showing worry, was zipping her long, fawn colored coat closed.

“Did you hear from…”

Kotori pursed her lips, fumbling her steps, startled but when she saw it was Eli who asked, she nodded, choosing her words carefully in still working theatre, “Honoka said they were heading north in Nico’s car. 10 minutes ago.”

Nozomi skipped up to Eli, her arm sliding through the dancer’s, “We’ll walk you home.”

“Thanks.”

They had made it to the Nishikinos. Umi and Honoka had carried a whimpering Maki in to the nearest cushioned surface, the couch in the media room. Maki’s mother was dealing with the wounds, Maki’s father was pacing almost as nervously as Nico in the kitchen now that he’d made cocoa and coffee for everyone. Umi and Honoka sat at the kitchen island, holding hands, Honoka strangely subdued. Umi watched Nico, amber eyes warmed by empathy. Nico flopped onto a stool suddenly, grabbing the mug in front of Umi and chugging.

“No creamer.” Nico coughed.

“No.” Umi’s response was mild as she considered if thumping Nico’s back was needless or necessary.

“Hey, Nico?” Honoka’s voice was nigh on a whisper. Umi squeezed her hand.

“Huh?” Nico blinked, dropping the mug.

“Maki’ll be okay, right?”

Nico closed her eyes, unaware of the attention being paid to her by the pacing Dr. Nishikino, very aware of her wounded girlfriend’s werewolf hearing, “She’ll be fine, Honoka.” Nico glanced to Dr. Nishikino, hoping for confirmation. “It’s just cold and shock and she heals fast.”

He rested a hand on Nico’s shoulder, briefly. “Probably more exhaustion than shock.”

Honoka nodding, more cheerful. Umi released her hand, “It’s getting late. We should return to the apartment. Kotori will be worried.”

“Take my car.” Nico smiled at her friends, “Thanks for everything.”

“Of course,” Umi stood, relaxing as Honoka leaned in to her side, arm around the taller girl’s waist. “Let us know how Maki’s doing.”

Nico nodded, then poured herself half a mug of coffee, adding creamer, enjoying the calm of an empty kitchen as Dr. Nishikino escorted Honoka and Umi to their coats. But a moment was all Nico wanted or needed and she welcomed the sight of Maki’s mother leaning in the doorframe, hair much neater than Maki ever managed, Nico thought, not surprised to find herself grasping at silly thoughts to break the tension.

“She’s mostly asleep, no damage that won’t heal by Tuesday,” Dr. Nishikino was feeling a new kind of parental as she prepared to hand off her daughter’s care. It was an unsettling sensation, but if she didn’t move out of the way, Nico would barrel through her, she realized watching as the tension in the much smaller woman face’s eased and a private smile replaced anguished lines. Nico jumped off her stool, careworn but still with the spring of tenacity and Dr. Nishikino stepped aside, “I think she wants you with her.”

Maki was under a blanket, still in wolf form, unbandaged, but with a bag full of bloody gauze on the floor next to her. Her eyes were closed, her breathing shallow, and Nico’s heart tore, to see Maki’s vitality so low. Maki whimpered and Nico knelt in front of the couch, shoving aside bloody gauze and low table, “Maki?”

Luminous lavender eyes opened and Nico wondered how had she not known from the beginning, with so much warmth, humor, and intelligence gleaming, set in the amethyst like jewels in gold. Maki inched her head to the side, encouraging Nico to sit next to her. Nico settled into the couch, helping Maki shift into her lap, gently petting the damp russet fur, “You’re not cold are you, Maki?” Nico asked, paying attention to avoid wounds.

Maki whiffled, her breath warm across Nico’s fingers.

“You were so” Nico’s mind raced through her wolf research for a suitable compliment, “dominant, cute ears, sexy snarl.”

Maki whined, fidgeted, her head movements a little uncomfortable in Nico’s lap. Nico could feel the embarrassment. Not good, she hadn’t meant to make Maki self conscious. Not the time for humor. Reassurance, not flirtation, was what Maki needed now.

“Sorry, pretty girl. Nico knows it’s not anything like that...it’s like when Nico has to be strict with Cocoa so she doesn’t hurt herself.”

Maki relaxed. Funny how many conversations Nico had with Maki in wolf form, and how much Nico understood of the werewolf’s replies, but somehow between the openness in the lavender eyes, the full body expressiveness, and the fact that Maki could smell any hesitation Nico had, those talks had the same raw honesty as the ones that took place when they were both undressed and exhausted, sweat, sheets and secrets scattered.

The quiet inside the Hoshizora-Koizumi dorm room was unnerving. Rin, still in wolf form, had immediately and deliberately taken over the bed Maki usually sat on, rolling around, snarling, bloodying the sheets. After five minutes of that and Hanayo ignoring her to open her laptop, Rin laid still, green eyes monochrome and watching Hanayo intently as her fingers flew over the keyboard. After another few minutes, Hanayo sat back, massaging her forehead, “No footage.”

Rin whined. Hanayo continued to ignore her, gathering her shower needs and bathrobe and leaving for the communal bathroom. As the door shut quietly but emphatically behind her partner, Rin transformed, sadness now shadowing anger.

Kayo-chin hadn’t said anything on the walk back to the dorm, or reached out a hand. There was no simple emotions for Rin to deal with, Kayo-chin didn’t smell sad or angry or frustrated....she was distant and determined and cold...and Rin didn’t know how to deal with that. Rin yawned and stared at the ceiling. Sleepy. She’d done enough for one day.

“We’re going upstairs now, Maki.” Maki’s parents stepped into the room and her mother spoke, “If she transforms and starts bleeding, you know how to apply a bandage, right, Nico?”

Nico tilted her head back so she could see the Dr. Nishikinos, “Nico was a Red Cross certified babysitter, first aid is easy.”

“Good night.”

As soon as her parents had reached the top of the stairs, Maki opened her eyes. Nico snorted, “You were faking it.”

Maki blew air out through her nose.

“Do you want to go upstairs, pretty girl?” Nico played with Maki’s ear, and then it started to shift between her fingers, leaving Nico with a handful of red silk. Maki turned over, blanket sliding off, of course, it was, Nico thought and suddenly Nico was trapped by her girlfriend crawling over her, amethyst eyes wary.

“Why aren’t you scared?” Maki asked.

“Of you. Like this?” Nico almost sniggered and patted a handy curve, but then she saw the deep cuts on Maki’s forearm and sobered.

Maki shook her head, unsteady on her wounded arms so Nico reached out, leading the redhead back to sit on the couch, her head on Nico’s shoulder, “Earlier. You stopped being scared when...”

Werewolf nose, Nico reminded herself, “If Nico ever smelt frightened, it was for you, not of you. Or Rin. Nico knows you. You wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“I hurt Rin.” Maki muttered.

Nico very gently touched the lightest of Maki’s wounds, “You stopped Rin. Got between her and people who want to hurt her.” Inside Nico continued silently “and you, if they knew”, before pep talk Nico amped up the cheer, “Rin did this to you. And you let her. And Nico knows why.”

Maki made a confused noise.

“You know how frustrated she’s been so you let her take it out on you.” Nico put an arm around Maki, “You’re a good friend, Maki. Rin will remember that.”

“Love you, Nico.” Maki sounded exhausted.

“Go to sleep, pretty girl. Nico will stay right here.” Nico made sure the blanket covered Maki.

Maki snuggled into Nico’s side and it felt just as right to both of them as it always had, even that first night on Nico’s couch. Princess or very pretty girl, Maki was Maki. Nico would remind her of that more often, Nico decided as she glanced down at this wonder who had trusted her with such an immense secret. And it was time for Nico to start thinking about how to protect her.

A/N: It snowed today.

This chapter reached a stopping point earlier than I meant it to, but they do that sometimes. Things are still tough for Rin, but that might ease up as we speed toward Fangs opening night.