#those were also really not that graphic in my memory. it was mature content for sure but they weren’t overbearing or intensely detailed?

[callixton]

hey remember when people got mad at red white and royal blue, an adult romance, for fetishizing gay men by having gay sex scenes. in the adult romance novel.

[dollzai]

free fall - dazai x reader - ch 1

Index - Next Chapter

Summary: Former property of Yokohama's Port Mafia, you've decided to pursue a life worth living. Unfortunately, it's come at the cost of betraying one of your closest confidants, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, who warned you that getting away alive wasn’t an option. Your only hope for protection, and discovering what it means to be free, is the Armed Detective Agency, and one bandage-wearing ability-user.

Pairing: dazai osamu x reader (ft. akutagawa)

Genre: angst, smut, (some) fluff

Warnings: explicit sexual content, graphic violence, swearing, alcohol abuse (will be updating as series goes on)

Rating: explicit/mature/NSFW

Word Count: 6.2k

Author’s Note: hi everyone!! if you’re reading this, thank you so much for taking the time to read my fic, it truly means a lot to me :’) i’m really excited to get this series going and take you all on this journey with me!! i’d really love and appreciate and feedback you have on this part, so drop me a comment and let me know what you think! i’m also posting this on wattpad and ao3 so if you’d like to check out free fall on either of those platforms you can do that!

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold.

A sequence of four, simple steps. The routine you’d become well acquainted with throughout your life in moments of need. Your way to slow down, regroup, and think.

But in this particular moment, the cycle was broken. The holds were nonexistent. The inhales were sharp, pained, the exhales breathy and ragged.

Everything was wrong. And the gaping hole in your torso was a stark reminder of that.

With your back pressed against the rough brick wall of an alleyway, you struggled to regain your composure. You pressed both hands to the bleeding wound on your left side as you forced your eyes downwards to inspect the damage. The sight you were met with made your knees sway, bile rising in your throat as you took in the fact that a significant chunk of your side had been torn away.

It looked just as terrible as it felt. You’d never seen flesh before, or anywhere near to this much blood. It stained your palms and your clothes and dripped in heavy droplets onto the asphalt below. 

Something between a whimper and a groan escaped your lips as the sight of gore connected to the wave of pain rushing through your brain.

Run.

As badly as you wanted to scream, cry, slide your back against the bricks and collapse into a heap, you knew that it wasn’t an option. You had to keep running.

You couldn’t remember how long or how far you’d run to reach this alley. It could have been minutes, maybe a dozen. But after frantically looking down every street and between every building, desperate for a place to hide only to be met by the faces of unkind strangers unwilling to help, it felt like hours to you. 

No matter what span of time had passed, it was not enough. Not when you were being hunted.

Your right leg unknowingly stepped forward, knowing that you needed to keep moving. But you knew you must not act without thinking, and remained where you were for a moment longer to try again.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold. 

Much needed oxygen filled your lungs, and your weak pulse worked desperately to bring it to your brain. Your thoughts raced by, unattached to logic or reason as you searched your memories for any place you could go.

It wasn’t as simple of a task as it may seem, though, as you were relatively unfamiliar with the city of Yokohama. Roaming around without supervision wasn’t something you’d technically ever been allowed to do, not to mention the fact that your search for a hiding spot left you completely unaware of where you were exactly.

I want to go home.

You couldn’t help the thought as it rushed into your brain, overwhelming your senses with a deep need for familiarity. For your warm, plush bed. For the view of the city below through a crystal-clear, bulletproof glass window. For the soft voice of your friend, who would surely tell you it was best to go to sleep.

But these were thoughts you had no time to entertain. You had no home. You had no friend. Not anymore.

As you bent over slightly with that crushing realization, you felt the weight of a foreign object near your hip. Gingerly, you removed a hand from your bloodied side, reaching into your pocket. 

What you pulled out was a sheet of paper from a notepad, the kind you kept near the phone for when you need to write down something important. It was crumpled into a tight ball. Forcing you to remove your other hand from the wound as well, your shaky fingers pulled apart the edges of the paper.

Now, it was stained with blood. But despite that, you were able to make out what was written in thick, black ink: an address.

A small haze was lifted from your mind as you remembered a glimmer of information. This address was where you had planned on going today, before your current predicament had unfolded. The piece of paper had been laid on the nightstand next to the too-firm mattress where you’d slept this morning. It was a miracle that you’d remembered to grab it after you got hit, stuffing it into your pocket before jumping from the third-floor balcony.

Your mind was made up. You had to get there.

Putting the paper between your teeth, you shimmied off the thin cardigan you were wearing. You quickly tied it tightly around your waist in your best effort to slow the bleeding before you ventured out again. The pressure against your torn side made you wince, gritting your teeth together against the paper as the metallic taste of your own blood seeped onto your tongue.

Once done, you removed the paper from your mouth to read it once more, memorizing the number and street name. You had no idea where this was, but you would find it, because it was your only choice.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold.

One final moment of clarity before you began on your way.

A rush of adrenaline allowed your legs to carry you with surprising ease, weaving through the sidewalks’ late afternoon traffic that allowed you to stay relatively hidden. The street signs on the corners guided you as you gained a general sense of where you were and in what direction you should head.

You knew you weren’t that far away. You were told that the apartment you had stayed was a short drive to the tall, brick building you were after. With that in mind, you continued in the direction of the port, turning corners and crossing streets with a hasty speed.

Pain was creeping back into your veins. You could feel a wetness of blood soaking through the extra layer you’d tied, but you didn’t slow down. You ignored the way your feet screamed as they hit the pavement with every step, and the way your lungs wheezed with every breath you took. These were trivial things. You were not going to survive if you didn’t make it to your destination.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as the sound of footsteps flooded your ears. You were surrounded by pedestrians traveling in all directions, and cars whizzing by in the street, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that your pursuer was close by. Had you spent too much time hidden, tending to your wounds, allowing them to catch up?

Unfortunately for you, you knew that they were already aware of your destination. They very well may be waiting for you outside the building, ready to tear you open even more before you could reach help.

The thought terrified you even more than you already were. Your brisk jog turned into a full-on sprint, pushing past bodies giving you irritated glances as you continued in what you hoped was the right direction.

But without much more than the address on a blood-soaked piece of paper, it was starting to feel hopeless. Your running was aimless and frantic, with no clear end in sight.

You weren’t sure how much longer you continued on like this. Barely breathing, barely able to stay upright each time the sole of your shoe slammed into the ground and sent another jolt of pain through your entire body. You felt hopeless. You felt desperate. You felt scared.

Then you tripped. An uneven section of concrete caught your toe, sending you hurdling forward.

You caught yourself with your hands, scraping your palms as you felt a deep, intense pain from your right elbow to right shoulder. You cried out, your eyes tearing up as your body suffered another intense blow.

Only a second could be taken to rest. You had to keep moving.

Pressing your hands into the hard sidewalk, you pushed yourself back up. But before you could take another step, a head among the train of moving strangers made you stop.

Your vision blurred. The head of dark hair turned to look at you. There was nowhere to run.

But when you turned to the side, you realized where exactly you were. The large, brick building.

Not a second was wasted as your feet pivoted, turning your body to the side and propelling you forward through the glass doors. You scanned the building directory on the wall to your right, finding the floor you needed to reach among the list of businesses. 

The elevator just ahead of you was tempting, but there was no time to wait. You headed up the stairs to the fourth floor.

It was not an easy feat given the state both your body and mind were in. A growing trail of blood followed you up the stairs, and your injured arm on your other side hung loosely. Even without these injuries, every muscle in your body would be straining to help you run up four flights of stairs.

Somehow, you made it. The feeling of flat, carpeted floor under your feet was a minor relief as you moved along the hallway, scanning the doors for the office you needed to find.

And you did find it.

Wasting no time, you leaned forward, your closed fist extending to knock on the door ahead of you, marked with the name that filled you with a relief like you’d never felt:

Armed Detective Agency.

But before your fist could make contact with the frosted glass, the door was pulled open, your own momentum sending your hand, along with the rest of your body, back towards the ground.

You were on your hands and knees again. At the mercy of whatever lay beyond this entryway. You gulped. You peered up at your only hope.

A face peered down back at you, eyes shining through a curtain of dark brown bangs as they inspected the pathetic sight in front of them.

They winced, a long moment passing before speaking to you with a somewhat amused tone.

“Ah, you don’t look so good. The hospital is only three blocks away, though. Have a good weekend!”

Your jaw dropped slightly at their dismissiveness, your heart sinking. You weren’t sure how exactly you imagined this conversation to begin, but it was certainly not like this.

Unsure of how to respond, your lips parted without sound. The person in front of you continued to stare down at you, their eyes narrowing slightly before they were interrupted by a voice calling out from within the office.

“What’s going on over there?”

The voice was serious, sounding concerned. Their face, stern-looking with rectangular glasses, came into view as they joined your greeter in the doorway, looking down at you as well.

This person looked mildly horrified at least, in contrast to the first who still appeared unaffected, if a bit annoyed, as they let out a deep sigh.

“Jesus Christ, Dazai, what is this?” the second man exclaimed, sounding both shocked at the sight and irritated with the first man. It was in that moment when you realized exactly who the person to open the door had been. Someone you hadn’t seen in a long time. But there wasn’t time to think about that right now.

“Please,” you started, finally able to squeak out a word between your still-ragged breaths. “I need your help.”

Clearly, you hadn’t rehearsed what exactly you planned on saying to the members of the Armed Detective Agency once you got here. Maybe explain to them your situation and what you were hoping for from them. But you hadn’t expected to show up in this condition, which was going to have to be addressed before much of a conversation could be had.

The sound of your pitiful plea must have reached further into the office, as you saw several more faces come into view behind the two men. Some of them were pulling on jackets and grabbing personal belongings as they walked towards the entryway.

“It’s just some injured girl.” the first man, Dazai, finally answered in a bored tone, seemingly ignoring what you’d just said. He sighed again before turning to the other man, his eyes lighting up. “Do you want to help her get to the hospital, Kunikida? She doesn’t look like she’ll last much longer here.”

“Dazai-“ the man referred to as Kunikida started sternly, before being cut off.

“Come on,” Dazai whined, drawing out the second word with persistence. “It’s Friday! Work is over. Time to go home.”

You were horrified by the way this exchange was going. You didn’t know what to say. But you had to say something.

“No!” you cried out, forcing the attention of everyone back onto you. You heard concerned murmurs and whispers from the people watching within the office. Your throat hurt from the sudden outburst, and you covered your mouth with your hand to let out a painful cough.

Feeling a wetness hit your hand, your eyes were drawn down to look at your palm that was sprinkled with fresh droplets of blood. Your hand shook, and you looked back up at the people in front of you.

“No. Please,” you started again, your voice quiet and raw. “He’s after me. He’s outside. He’s going to kill me.”

Kunikida bent down where he stood, coming closer to your eye level. “Who is?” He asked, his voice soft but firm.

Tears welled in your eyes. 

Your friend. The person you trusted most in this world. The person whose mere presence rescued you from years of loneliness and isolation. The person you betrayed.

You wiped at your eyes, taking a shaky breath as your lips moved to form the name. But out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Dazai’s face change above you. 

His eyes widened with a look of realization, and he stole the name from your mouth.

“Akutagawa.”

 —

 “Akutagawa?”

You called out your friend's name after hearing a knock at your door. The reply you received was a soft cough, muffled by his hand, and his voice saying “Yes.”

Making your way to the door, you wiped at your eyes with the heel of your palm. You��d been crying, for hours now, and were sure your face was showing it. Still, you couldn’t help but not want to worry your friend. At least not right away.

You pulled open the door to reveal Akutagawa’s serious face, giving you a disapproving look. “What’s wrong?”

Silently, you cursed yourself for being so easy to read. At least for Akutagawa, who had spent the last several years studying your emotions and learning exactly how to tell what you were feeling.

Not responding, you motioned for him to enter, and shut the door behind him as he did. Wordlessly, you walked towards your large bed and sat down on the edge. Akutagawa did the same, eyeing you closely still. 

A few beats of silence passed between the two of you. You stared down at your fingers, fidgeting with them in your lap. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Akutagawa’s face lit by the moonlight streaming in from the floor to ceiling windows, his eyes fixed on your face. You refused to meet them.

Finally, he broke the silence. “Why did you call me? It’s the middle of the night.”

He was right. It was the earliest hours of the morning, a time you rarely saw except on sleepless nights, of which you’d had many recently. You suspected Akutagawa hadn’t been sleeping, given he was wearing the white dress shirt, black pants, and long black coat he always donned when he was out doing work.

Things must not have been interesting in the city tonight, you thought, considering how quickly he arrived after you called him in a panic.

You didn’t know how to say to him what you needed to. Your eyes drifted to the large bag that sat half-packed on the wood floor below you, then back to your shaky hands, and then to Akutagawa. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Akutagawa shifted uncomfortably where he sat upon hearing that dark statement. He cast his eyes downwards, but moved a bit closer to you. “What do you mean?” His tone was flat, but you knew that was because he was trying to mask his concern.

Shaking your head, you willed the tears threatening to fall to go away, but it was too late. You felt them falling down your cheeks as you lifted your hands to gesture at the room around you. “This. All of this. I can’t do it.”

You left a pause in the air, giving yourself a moment to regain some composure, but Akutagawa didn’t fill it. He looked back at your distressed face, but kept his own blank, listening.

You took a deep breath before continuing. “My life isn’t mine. It never has been.” you stated simply, your voice wavering a bit. “Everyday I get further and further away from being able to turn back and say I don’t want to, or I can’t. But I won’t. I won’t do this for them.”

The silence returned, feeling oppressive against your ears. Akutagawa knew now what you meant.

Your father was a former executive of the Port Mafia. He was murdered when you were very young, and having never known your mother, the Port Mafia took you in as a child. It was your father’s wish, that you would be put to good use in the organization he dedicated most of his life to. Hence, you became legal property of the Port Mafia.

The Port Mafia was unsure of what to do with a child born without an ability. What use they could be in ever leading, serving, or fighting for the organization was limited. But your father had boasted about your intelligence before his untimely demise, a girl so smart for the age of five.

A plan was devised. You would be sent to school through the rest of your childhood and teenage years, receiving nothing but outstanding marks, and then be sent to university to obtain a degree in policy, political science, something to ensure that you would obtain a government job. From then on, you would be the Port Mafia’s tool, using your position to obtain information, and ensuring the Mafia’s bidding would be done.

From the outside, it would look like nothing more than a normal life. A young girl attending school, university, and obtaining a respectable job. But nothing about it had ever been normal. Classes were the only place outside of the Mori Corporation skyscraper you were ever allowed. All spare time had to be dedicated to your studies to obtain the highest grades, or else there would be consequences. You had to succeed. That was the only choice.

For those reasons, having friends was never really an option. You remained a mystery to your classmates, a girl that preferred to keep to herself and spend as little time on extracurriculars and outside events as possible. There were a few people with whom you had a mutual respect, but also a mutual understanding that you had no interest in taking a relationship beyond an acquaintance level.

It was a lonely life for many years. You had everything you could ever need, an endless flow of money provided by the Port Mafia to ensure you were clothed, fed, and had whatever entertainment you wanted. Within the confines of your studio apartment, of course.

That was where Akutagawa came in. A stoic, sickly looking boy that began roaming the Mori Corporation building’s halls in your early teens. He was around your age. You heard whispers that his ability was one of the most destructive the Port Mafia had seen. 

And for some reason, you became incredibly drawn to him. He was always by himself when you saw him, and you sensed that he was just as lonely as you were. It wasn’t hard to tell, as someone who lived a life as isolated as you had.

Your attempts to treat him with kindness and communicate with him were met with cold glares and silence for quite some time. It was clear he had no interest in associating with you, a weak girl without an ability or much of a purpose. Still, you persisted. Maybe pestered is the more accurate word.

His illness was evident to you. You wanted to help. You knew of an acquaintance at school whose mother made medicine. Enlisting their help, you obtained a concoction that could supposedly help with coughing and lung problems. 

You delivered it to Akutagawa’s room, placing it in front of his door with a small note. A few hours later, you noticed it was gone. You hoped he had taken it, but the next day he still wanted nothing to do with you. But, you noticed that his cough appeared a little bit better that day. So you got more, delivering it again. Again, it was gone from the hallway, and again, he seemed to be getting better. Maybe it was just your imagination.

After weeks of this little routine, he finally approached you. He was quiet and withdrawn, but he thanked you. He asked if you could continue getting it for him, and you agreed, on the condition that he would start coming to get it from you personally. Reluctantly, he agreed.

And thus began the growth of a strange friendship. It started small and grew slowly, but over the years grew nonetheless. He would visit you more and more often, and stay for longer and longer. The two of you would talk about your respective lives. For you, your school work, which was bland. For Akutagawa, it was his training for a while, and then his work for the Mafia.

You knew he killed people. You knew he had a reputation for being vicious, ruthless, and quick to anger. But you weren’t afraid of him. To you, he was kind. He was quiet, shy, and vulnerable. He was a good companion that understood to an extent what it felt like in your shoes.

And now, you sat next to him on your bed like you’d done thousands of times before. And as you sat and remembered your years of strange friendship, you couldn’t fight the urge to wrap your arms around him and pull him close.

Akutagawa hated this kind of physical contact, and you knew it. But he let you do it, because he knew this was what you needed. Slowly and unsure what else to do, he lifted his arms and placed his hands gently on your back.

Your face was pressed into the shoulder of his black coat. You felt another wave of emotion. Sadness, grief, and familiarity. You knew this may be the last time you hug your friend like this.

The moment lingered for quite some time. You didn’t want to let go.

But you had to. Your mind was made up. You steadied yourself against his shoulders, pushing yourself back to sit up. You looked at him. “I have to leave.”

He blinked at you. “Leave?” he asked without emotion.

You nodded, casting your eyes down. “Yes. Leave the Port Mafia.”

Silence. You knew he was inspecting your face, waiting for you to say that this was a joke. You didn’t, and he sighed, finally saying “That’s moronic.”

Scoffing slightly, you met his eyes again. You started to protest, but he interrupted. “They’ll kill you. You know that, don’t you?”

You didn’t answer. Yes, you knew it was likely. But you had a plan.

“It would be an embarrassment to let someone without an ability get away unscathed,” he continued, his voice raising just slightly with every word. “They’d never allow that to happen. Don’t be an idiot.”

You winced at his words, but you were determined to explain yourself. “I have a plan. I wouldn’t be telling you this if I didn’t.”

It was his turn to scoff now, growing increasingly annoyed with this conversation. “What, live in the streets? You’ll either die of starvation after two weeks, or beg to come back to the Port Mafia, who will then happily take the opportunity to kill you for leaving.”

“No!” you exclaimed, your urgency growing. He stopped talking and waited for you to explain what this plan was. “Akutagawa…” you started again. “I don’t want to help the Port Mafia. I want to help people, the people of Yokohama.”

Akutagawa shook his head. “Don’t tell me that your education has suddenly made you sympathetic to the masses.”

“So what if it has?” you countered. “I want to do more than be a puppet. I want my life to have meaning.”

Something resembling a cruel, dry laugh escaped Akutagawa’s lips. “So, what then? What’s your grand idea to give your life meaning?”

“I’ll join the Armed Detective Agency.”

Akutagawa’s eyes widened at that, in what looked to you like shock mixed with the beginning stages of rage. His lips curled into a frown. “You have no ability. Nothing of use. Why would they ever take you?”

You’d reached the moment of the conversation you were dreading the most. You took a deep breath before continuing.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold.

“I have an ability, Akutagawa.”

He looked at you, incredulous. Shocked. Hurt. “What?”

You nodded slowly. “I didn’t know for a long time. But I do. And I want to use it to help people. I always have.”

All he could do was stare. You felt ashamed, but knew that it was only right to tell him now. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, his tone was resentful. “What is it, then?”

Gulping, you began. “It’s hard to explain. I can… change people's perceptions. Of the world I mean. Almost change their… reality, I guess. Like, make them see things that aren’t there. Or hear things. Or, change things. I don’t know. But they don’t realize once I stop using it, it just becomes part of their reality.”

“Interesting.” Akutagawa said dryly. “Have you ever used it on me?”

“Of course not.” you said like it was obvious. “Just random people. At school, and whatnot. It took a lot of time to even realize I was doing it, or how to control it at all. I still barely know how it works.”

The deafening silence returned. You didn’t know what else to say. You knew Akutagawa must be feeling hurt and a bit betrayed, but the cold, distant look on his face hurt your heart. You didn’t want this. But you’d never forgive yourself if you left without telling him.

“I’m telling you because I trust you, Akutagawa. More than anyone. And I need your help.” you pleaded with him. He still didn’t answer. You were losing him.

It was then that an idea popped into your head. “Come with me.”

“No.” he replied, his voice firm and unwavering.

You tried again. “Think about it, at least. It’s not impossible, right? People have left the Port Mafia before, even ability-users and people who… have killed people.”

Akutagawa wanted nothing more to do with this conversation. He stood up and began walking towards the door without a word.

“Wait!” you cried, following after him. You latched your fingers around his forearm, stopping him from going further. “You told me that the man who trained you left. That one day, he just decided to go, and he did!” your voice was frantic and desperate as you tried to make him listen. “And he joined the Armed Detective Agency, because he wanted to help people. Dazai, right?"

The speed at which Akutagawa turned back to face you, his eyes wide and stormy with rage, and his ability activated were astounding. The many tails of his long coat floated upwards toward you menacingly, glowing a deep red. You took a frightened step back.

“Don’t ever say his name to me.” Akutagawa growled.

Your mouth opened and closed, scared and unsure of what to do now. You’d never seen your friend act like this before, or use his ability. It was terrifying. All you could do was reach out a shaky hand in his direction.

Akutagawa looked at you in pure disgust. “You want to leave so badly? Leave.” he growled again. “Now.”

“No, I-“

“And don’t be stupid enough to show your face to me again.”

Tears stung once again in your eyes. You wanted to leave, but not like this.

Akutagawa’s ability sprung towards you suddenly, a clear threat. This would be your only chance to go.

You turned to grab your bag, still only halfway packed. You pulled the emergency lever on one of the large windows and pushed the glass outwards. You swung your legs outside and sat on the sill, hesitating for just a moment as you turned to look back at the person you just minutes ago called your friend.

Akutagawa’s face wrinkled in disgust. “You’re as weak as I always suspected you were.”

Your heart shattered. You turned, not giving him another moment to see how he was breaking you, before scaling your way down the building’s fire escapes.

When you reached the ground, you ran.

Your abrupt departure didn’t give you the time you needed to actually come up with a detailed plan. Beyond “make it to the Armed Detective Agency”, which you didn’t even know how to find.

You figured the best plan was to run to a subway station, where you could hide for a short while to gather your thoughts and figure things out. You did just that, finding the station you used to get to school years back. As you sat down on a bench in a secluded area, you began hatching a plan.

An old classmate of yours, Suzuki, was the daughter of a police officer. The two of you had never been close beyond interactions in the classroom, but she had tried to get you to hang out before. Obviously that was never possible, but you had stayed in friendly contact after graduation. You hoped her father may know where the Armed Detective Agency was and could help get you there.

As you pulled out your phone to call her, you remembered it was the early hours of the morning. She likely wouldn’t be awake for a while, so you should wait.

Hours passed. You paced around the platform, poking your head outside every once in a while to see if the sun had come up. It felt like an eternity before it did. You mind raced. You tried not to grieve the loss of the only life and friend that you knew. You had to be strong. Instead, you thought about all of the things you’d be free to do, all of the places you could see, without worrying about the Port Mafia. It was idyllic, but you need to distract yourself.

The sun was finally a sliver at the bottom of the sky. You pulled out your phone to call Suzuki. To your surprise, she answered.

You tried to ask for help without giving much away. You told her that you needed help finding the Armed Detective Agency so you could meet with someone. It was very important, and you really needed her help.

Suzuki was rightfully a bit confused, but agreed nonetheless. She was living at home, and told you to head there. Her father would be home from work in the afternoon, and he could hopefully help you then.

As quickly as possible, you headed to the address she gave you, making your way to her apartment where she greeted you.

“It’s good to see you. How have you been?” she asked with a grin.

You shrugged, putting on a smile, not wanting to worry her. “I can’t complain, I guess. I really appreciate your help.”

“Not a problem at all.” Suzuki’s smile widened. “Like I said, my father will be home a bit later, so you can just hang out here.”

Giving her a grateful look, you nodded. “Thank you.” Your words were cut off at the end by a yawn, which you did your best to stifle.

Suzuki’s eyes narrowed slightly at you with concern. “Are you tired? Do you want to rest?”

You shook your head at first, but winced as you considered the option. Not having slept all night was taking its toll at this point, and you’d like to be a bit more awake when you arrived at the Armed Detective Agency.

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” you agreed. Suzuki nodded, leading you to a small bedroom that she said you could lay down in. You did so gratefully, your eyes closing almost immediately as your head hit the pillow.

“Oh, before I forget,” Suzuki started, drawing your attention back to reality. She pulled out a folded piece of paper from her pocket and set it on a nightstand next to where you lay. “I called my father before you got here to get the address to the place you need to go. He said they probably wouldn’t be open until later, so he could drive you over once he came home. It’s not that far, just towards the port. Is that alright?”

Nodding, your eyes closed again. “Thank you, Suzuki.”

Suzuki walked to the door. “Get some sleep.” she said cheerfully before closing the door behind her.

Your sleep was dreamless and dark. You were exhausted, and frankly didn’t want to think about what happened since last night. So the darkness was a welcome sight.

When you woke several hours later, it was to a soft knock at the door. You rubbed your eyes with your fists, taking a deep breath and sitting up slightly. The knock came again.

You squinted at the door. “Suzuki?” you called out.

“Can I come in?” Suzuki’s voice answered, soft and a bit shaky.

“Yeah. Is everything okay?” you asked, as you watched the doorknob turn.

Suzuki’s face came into view, her eyes wide. She looked terrified. 

Your mouth was dry, and you gulped.

There was a moment of calm and quiet then. Suzuki opened her mouth to speak. “I’m sor-“

The blood spurting from her mouth interrupted her mid-sentence. She gurgled, choking on it, her eyes falling downwards. You followed, seeing the sharp, black tendril surrounded by a red haze that pierced through the center of her chest.

“No,” you breathed out. You knew. And it was too late.

Suzuki’s body dropped to the floor, her eyes glazing over as the life drained out of her into a pool of crimson on the floor.

You jumped off the bed, but there was nowhere to go. You watched as he came into view, replacing Suzuki where she had stood in the doorway.

“Akutagawa.”

His eyes bore into you, wearing the same disgust you left them with a few hours ago. He coughed into his hand, watching your horrified expression as you stood frozen in place.

When you attempted to speak, it was barely a whisper. “Please. Akutagawa, please.”

His face was unchanged by your plea. “You’re weak.” he said, his voice detached and plain. “You deserve to die.”

There was no avoiding the sharp slice of Rashomon as his ability shot at you with intention to kill. Still, you tried.

It was a feeble attempt to dodge. You weren’t fast enough. Rather than putting a hole in your chest as it did with Suzuki, Akutagawa’s ability hit the left side of your torso.

It tore through your body, taking everything in its path with it. The scream you let out was animalistic as you watched your blood and fragments of skin spray against the bed next to you.

Akutagawa’s eyes narrowed in rage. How dare you fight to survive?

There was no way out of this. You were dead. You closed your eyes in defeat, wishing that you could change this reality you were trapped in and go back to yesterday.

Change this reality.

Your eyes snapped open with decisiveness. You could win. You could stop him.

You accessed the part of your consciousness that you’d kept hidden for years, your eyes fixed to Akutagawa as you entered his mind with your own. What you showed him was a picture of your own creation, a vision of this room with you not in it.

His eyes blinked in confusion as his perception of the world around him changed in an instant. He looked around with urgency to find you, not knowing that you still stood where he last saw you.

Unable to help it, you watched him for a few more seconds, in disbelief that you had done it.

Not wasting anymore time, you turned and grabbed that important piece of paper off of the nightstand, stuffing it into your pocket. You looked around for any possible escape route, your eyes fixing onto glass doors that opened to a small balcony. You pulled them open and stepped outside, gripping the cold metal railing.

You were three-stories up. Could you make it?

You turned to look back at Akutagawa, whose eyes still searched the room. But then, he looked right at you. And from the way his eyes burned, you knew he saw you.

No more options. You had to make it. So you jumped.

The concrete of the sidewalk smacked against your already injured body. You landed on your right arm, crying out as you tried not to think about the sound of snapping bones.

You got up. You ran. You didn’t look back.

[scott-mccall-the-hot-girl]

my ultimate guide to thiam fic !!

( as a new teen wolf stan )

-

the classic post war, long ass (multi chapter) fic !!with great development that genuinely made me laugh out loud, they have the best friendship in this & i love it very much. ( like theo teaches liam to drive and i just *happy sobs* ) a fundamental in thiam fanfiction !! all stans have probably already read it but if you haven’t this is in fact a threat ,, go show this vv iconic story some love !!

Airplanes - Captainmintyfresh

Summary: After the Anuk-ite and the hunters are dealt with Liam needs a break. Cue Theo and a road trip that Liam should know better than to think will be peaceful.

Not Rated, No Archive Warnings Apply, Completed, 43/43 Chapters, Words: 236,875 (236k)

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okay okay so this one is also post 6B !! but ,, now we introduce fighting monroe & the hunters again ,, so we get the boys & a new mission !! so if you like an intresting plot 11/10 would recommend !! just to be clear this ISN’T complete ,, if that turns you off i understand but definitely give this one a read !! it litterally have theo doing crossword puzzles & fighting zombies

Vacancy Signs - LovelyLittleGrim

Summary: Theo and Liam are in Manhattan negotiating a pack allyship when the zombie apocalypse breaks out. Now, the two of them have to find their way back to Beacon Hills without getting eaten by zombies or killing one another.

Rated: Explicit, Graphic Description of Violence, Not Completed, 15/17 Chapters, Words: 89,605 (89k)

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Royalty AU !! I REPEAT ROYALTY AU !! a fantastic au where i stan their moms more than i stan them !! genuinely so good at the childhood rivals to lovers trope !! i’m genuinely obsessed with this one. has made me cry more than once ,, hurts in a good way <3 the ending is just *chefs kiss* also one of the tags is genuinely: # theo and liam make bad choices for over 130k straight !! if that doesn’t sound appealing i don’t know what does !!

Artificial Love - songbvrd

Summary: Prince Theo and Prince Liam are forced to spend every Summer together from age five onwards. They hate each other, and usually find ways to make each other miserable as much as possible in their six weeks together. But when they're reunited because of intended unions as adults, things change. They're both supposed to be married to noble women, but neither of them is as interested in anyone else as they are with their childhood rival.

Rated: Mature, No Archive Warnings Apply, Completed, Chapters: 32/32, Words: 172,935 (172k)

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so if you are in the mood for a crack fic that’s not explicitally a crack fic this is for you !! okay so i’m really hit or miss with AU’s ,, sometimes i feel like they don’t quite capture the characters right but this story have the BEST dramatic liam i have ever seen in my life !! basically they all live in the same apartment building & it’s fantastic !! i saw this one floating around a lot but the summary didn’t really unrest me until i have it a shot !! so go read it rn !! also nolan & brett are genuinely fantastic and make me wheeze ,, LIKE ACTUALLY VERBALLY LAUGHING !! all i’m gonna say is that my fav characters are scott & the beetles but that won’t make actual sense until you read it !!

The Neighbors Song - TheodoreR

Summary: “I always hear you singing on your balcony every morning, but suddenly you’ve stopped?”

Or the one where Theo annoys Liam every morning with his awful singing until he doesn’t anymore and Liam is even more annoyed. Liam hates every single thing about his mornings -the fact that they happen in the morning alone is enough. The thing Liam hates the most about his mornings though is the terrible voice of the guy who lives below him. He can’t sing for shit and Liam tried to politely let him understand that by throwing flour and water on his balcony, and also by shouting it to him, you can’t sing for shit!, and then by writing it into a note he proceeded to attach to his door, but this Raeken guy just keeps doing it, every single morning, like a fucking rooster. Liam did nothing to deserve this. He probably didn’t do anything to deserve better either to be fair, he doesn’t expect to open his window and be welcomed by some angelic voice singing him good morning, he’d just be happy with nothing. Silence. That’s something Liam can appreciate in mornings. Just some bark from his dog and the sound of his misery and that’s it. But no, god forbid the new guy lets him have that.

Rated: Explicit, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Wanrings, Completed, 8/8 Chapters, Words: 42,814 (42k)

-

me: i’m not a big fan of AU’s ,, proceeds to talk about ANOTHER au… OKAY BUT THIS ONE !! it’s not complete but the author has been updating regularly ,, vv slow burn !! but in a REALLY intresting way !! i lOVE LIAM IN THIS SO MUCH ,, he is such a diaster of a person and it’s wonderful !! they have a great dynamic & i’m sucker for general puppy pack content ( and erica reyes being a badass ) !! also theo plays lacrosse in this & i really like it ahhhhh ,, also liam is just being an artic monkeys stan the whole time & theo is like *que confused repressed gay noises*

Inglorious Roommates - honeyscape

Summary: A roommate is defined as “a person with whom one shares a room.”

Theo would say a roommate was more along the lines of, “The person who's the bane of his existence. The weirdo that sleeps for days. The spaz that exercises at 3am. The guy with a revolving door of annoying friends. An insufferable human being that Theo has no control over living in his room.”

Example: Theo hates his roommate Liam.

-

okay okay i hate myself but i have another WIP for y’all !! this one is jUST FANTASTIC. i’m genuinely so upset it’s most likely not going to updated again *incoherent screaming ensues*. for this story ,, it’s very theo-centric bUT thats bc it ends right before liam becomes a concrete member of the story !! ANYWAY: basic plot = theo & acquiring not one but two children ,, so #dad theo but he is still crusty & homeless and i love him very much. it’s just so GOOD !! just read if you want to experience my fav theo coming out story & him etching high school musical

Look who's talking - Captainmintyfresh

Summary: Theo had been labeled many things in his life. Evil, failure, monster. He'd never thought Father would be one of those things but as he looked across the table to a six year old with blue smears of bubble gum icecream across her face trying to coax the first words out of her sister. Finger jabbing towards Theo's face as she repeated 'Daddy' again and again he couldn't bring himself to dispute the label.

(Theo accidentally adopts two young werewolves)

Not Rated, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings, Not Completed, Chapters: 16/?, Words: 48740 ( 48k )

-

so here me out: post-canon ( poetry like angst ) summer get away !! just the boys doing cute little domestic things together whilst pining !! theo’s guilt in this is just so powerful & aGjffkgkkfkvkdlv !! i think it’s so interesting to see how they interact in this one, it’s just very heart warming !! and it features one of my favorite niche teen wolf tropes of theo being great with like seven year old girls- it’s just so good ,, very much a wonderful little one shot that just makes your heart happy.

(next time i see you you'll show me) a hundred different ways to say the same things - cherrysprite

Summary: “...You deserve good things,” Liam says eventually. He makes sure not to look at Theo even though he can feel his eyes turn on him. Somehow he can already tell that Theo doesn’t believe him.

Liam instantly makes that the goal of this summer - making Theo believe him.

Rating: Teen and Up, No Archive Warnings Apply, Chapters: 1/1, Words: 28875 ( 28k )

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okay so this next section of fic recs is a bit different !!

two of my favorite authors !! and a compilation of fics i’ve read by them both !!

for context: these two have written some genuinely gorgeous fics, like pure poetry, they explore the real gritty & scary side of our boys relationship in such a wonderful way. they’ve both used some of my favorite tropes & i love them very much !!

whenever i need something soothing but so genuinely intresting & enticing these are my go to !! ( also they both write a lot of good nolan angst & some vv good fics with hayden )

go check out:

eneiryu

as well as fallingforboys

here are some of my favorite fics by them ~

darling i want you here in my arms (kiss the pain away, i know you can) - fallingforboys

even before you touched me, i belonged to you (all you had to do was look at me) - fallingforboys

memories linger like tattoo scars (but your touch on my skin is just as permanent) - fallingforboys

skin, bones, a stolen heart, and an ugly creature lurking underneath -fallingforboys

i don't know how to breathe in the place i called home - fallingforboys

whisper your gossamer truths into the shadow, maybe you'll find the answers you're searching for - fallingforboys

between the mountains and the valley we built a monument to our regret - eneiryu

cracked the hinges of the cage and waited for you - eneiryu

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okay and finally: since i am a self centered whore

my own fic: an rendition of the # elevator scene

it’s basically my version of post canon if we did get the kiss in the elevator. we got a classic liam pov in which he is has 12/10 for extreme bi diaster energy even whilst being shot at !! so go him ig…

Fuck Off, Fuck This & Fuck It! - nefelibata_peach

Summary: Liam thought to himself heart rate climbing, they were bound to be dead by morning. So he thought with everything but his brain and he kissed him.

Where Liam Dunbar is very confused, slightly traumatized, and just a bit scared but hey, aren't they all! Bad decisions ensue as two boys fight in a war they never did sign up for.

Rating: Teen and Up, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Chapters: 1/1, Words: 3558 ( 3k )

[norabrice1701]

Confession - Pt. III

Father Antonio x Fem!Reader

Link to Mini-Series List

Warnings: Explicit language, mature non-graphic sexual content, aftermath of breaking clerical celibacy

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: Y'all have been so kind about this fic! Each note and reblog is so very appreciated, and I'm so happy (and blown away) that so many of y'all hopped on this train! I have more parts planned, but this fic will take a pause for the time being. Time for powerboat racer!Zemo to take center stage 😊 Cheers!

“The waves will pull us under, Tides will bring me back to you" - “Deathbeds”, Bring Me the Horizon

You stared at your textbook, lost somewhere between atomic s-orbitals and p-orbitals. In hindsight, you cursed yourself for delaying chemistry until your junior year, but there was nothing for it now. You just needed to knuckle down and try to pass this next test. Your score on the last test still rubbed you raw, even if it ended up as a passing grade with the grading curve.

Your phone pinged with a text, and your heart leapt with excitement. But the message was only from your mother.

Hi, sweetie! Time to talk?

Normally, you welcomed any distraction from chemistry, but it wasn’t quite the message that you expected. Not that it mattered, really. You had something to tell your mother.

The call rang for two tones before she answered. “Hi, sweetie! So, this was a good time to talk, hmm?”

“Hi, mom. And yeah,” you rubbed at your forehead, “I needed a break from subatomic chemistry.”

“Ugh, I can’t even remember the names of all of those particles. Believe me, it won’t be relevant to your career unless you’re a chemist.”

“Uh, yeah – no, thanks.”

“How is the internship hunt going, by the way?”

“Fine. The business school’s hosting a job fair next month, and I’m working on my resume.”

“Be sure to mention those years that you spent as treasurer of the church’s youth council. That should impress them.”

You sighed, cheeks burning. "No self-respecting company is going to care about that.” Even though you held the title of treasurer, no one in the church actually let you handle any money or make any decisions. You simply had a basic spreadsheet that they let you call the ‘balance sheet’ and discuss during the youth council meetings when mission trips were planned.

“Aww, but you were so excited about it. Always so proud of your little spreadsheet.” Your mother giggled softly with fond memories. “We knew right away that we had a little bureaucrat in the making!”

“God, that sounds awful.”

“And you watch your mouth, young lady.” Your mother’s tone sharpened. “Just because you’re away from home is no excuse to take the Lord’s name in vain. I know that we certainly taught you better, and so did… well, up until his departure at least.”

You forced a hard swallow, leaning back in your chair and trying to keep your voice casual. “Has Father Percival improved any?”

The news of Father Antonio’s departure had devastated the parish. No one wanted to see him go. No one wanted such spiritual upheaval in their holy sanctuary. And when the news came to light that not only was he leaving the parish, but had also sought a voluntary loss of clerical state, everyone refused to believe it. Your mother had wept, and your father was one of many who sought one-on-one meetings with Antonio to try and persuade him not to break from the priesthood.

But as you now well knew, he was too far past the point of no return.

Your mother’s sigh came heavy and strained through the phone. “Father Percival… well, he just doesn’t understand the needs of our congregation. Not yet, anyway. That was the most remarkable thing about Father Antoni – I mean, Antonio. He just… he had a way with people. A genuine desire to understand, not judge; to help without reward; to… see others be the best version of themselves without thought for himself.”

A smile lit your face as fondness warmed your heart. “Yeah, he’s…,” you had to watch your words. “He’s a good man.”

“I’m not sure your father will ever forgive him, though. What sort of man just abandons his duty to God like that?”

“Well, when it’s not a right fit, it’s not a right fit.”

“The life of a priest is the highest calling there is. Once committed, there is no saying ‘oh, I’m sorry, I don’t want to do this anymore’.” Your mother sighed, obviously trying not to overwork herself. “And for Antonio to do just that… clearly, he became corrupted by some earthly temptation even if he couldn’t admit it to anyone or the church.”

If only your mother knew how that had just been the tip of the iceberg. Of course, you and Antonio had talked at length about it in the intervening years. His adjustment to life outside the priesthood hadn’t been the smoothest and still wasn’t, but even to this day, he harbored no regrets.

“Well,” you said simply, choosing your words carefully. “The world’s a small place. Maybe someday you’ll… see him again and get to ask your questions.”

“It’s all water under the bridge now. I think your father would prefer never to see the man again, quite frankly – especially considering he’s the direct reason why we wound up with Father Percival in the first place.”

“Oh, please. Even if Antonio had stayed, he could have only served a maximum of 12 years at our parish, so his time was more than half over.”

“My goodness, I didn’t realize that you knew so much about the canon laws of our parish. Have you taken an interest in theology?”

Your breath caught, and you started to sweat. Had you already tipped your hand? “Uh, no… no. I couldn’t get very far in Catholic theology, anyway, being a woman and all. I just – I remember Antonio saying something about that when he first arrived. During one of our youth group sessions, someone asked how long he planned to stay.”

“Well, that was nice of him to take the time to explain. But enough about him!” Your mother’s tone brightened. “What’s new with you?”

You shifted against your seat, suddenly nervous in the face of the moment. “Um, well….” If only your mother knew how this wasn’t exactly a change of topic. “I wanted to tell you that I’m… seeing a guy.”

“You’re… seeing a guy? As in dating? As in… a boyfriend?” She articulated the last word like she had a bad taste in her mouth.

“Yeah, as in… all of those things.”

A pause came across the line. Not that you were entirely surprised, but that’s exactly why you wanted to start this conversation now. Your parents would need time to adjust to many aspects of your relationship, and you didn’t want to just drop the bomb on them in person when you returned home for the upcoming holidays.

“Well, my goodness.” Your mother said at last. “I knew the day would come when my little girl’s heart would start to bloom into a young woman’s, but… I suppose I’m still not ready. And, how long have you been seeing this young man?”

You gulped, fortifying yourself. “Officially, almost one year. But we were friends before that.

Another pause followed, and you nervously picked at the corner of your textbook. You sighed anxiously, drawing another breath to speak. “Look, I know that I probably should have told you sooner. But I wanted to be sure how things would work out. He - he’s had a lot of recent transitions, and I didn’t want to jinx something so new by telling you-.”

“Did you even pause to consider how reckless that is?” Your mother finally said, voice tight. ”If that man had left you for dead in a ditch or worse, we would never know – we would never have had a chance to find or save you.”

“Come on, I’m not an idiot – obviously, my roommate knew that I was going out. And – seriously, if this guy had ever presented a red flag, I wouldn’t have ignored it.”

She hummed, still clearly unconvinced. “So, you’re saying that he’s a good Catholic boy?”

The bottom corner of the textbook page creased under your nails. “Well, er – mostly.” You drew a sharp breath. “In all the ways that matter, at least. He’s kind, compassionate, caring – and so honest. He’s a social worker in community outreach, and also working on a master’s degree. He wants to be a counselor someday.”

“That’s not exactly reassuring.” She remarked. “The desire of love is to give, but the desire of lust is to get – and a year is a long time. I understand how those urges can build, and if he’s not -.”

“Oh, for fu - Mom, we’ve had those conversations.” You bit your tongue, hoping she didn’t catch your almost f-bomb. “He knows my boundaries, and he’s very… respectful.” Those weren’t lies. While this whole phone call may be one giant lie by omission, you had spoken no false words. Antonio was very respectful of your boundaries and your wishes… usually fulfilling each one unless it had been an exhausting day. And even then, curling up on his sofa to hold him close and watch TV was still the best thing.

The thought tugged a smile to your face as you waited for your mother to respond.

Her perturbed sigh came across the line. “Well, I still don’t like that you waited so long to tell me. You know that your father won’t be pleased.”

“Well, that’s why I’m telling you now. I figured that you would both need some time with it before I come home over the holidays.”

“And will your supposed-gentleman be joining you?”

“No. We’re not there yet.” In truth, you couldn’t wait to wake up in Antonio’s arms on Christmas morning, but there were still so many more hurdles to jump.

“Good." Your mother didn’t hesitate. “I don’t think either of us could handle that so soon. Especially knowing that you’ve already been dating him for almost a year. My goodness, it’s just… so much to take in.”

“But someday… if things keep going well, then, who knows. Someday, you might get to meet him.”

“Your father will most certainly want a talk with him.”

You could only imagine. And you could only imagine what else the conversation would contain once your parents learned that you were dating and sleeping with your church’s former priest. It made you wonder if a special circle in hell already had your name on it, but obviously, Antonio had been willing to fall with you.

“Well,” you said at length, “like I said, we’ll see where things go.”

“And does this young man have a name?”

“Of course, he does. But… I’m going to let that stay between him and me right now.”

“Oh no,” your mother sighed in disapproval. “And here we come to it – what’s wrong with him? What are you hiding?”

“There’s nothing wrong with him, and obviously – I’m hiding his name. I just don’t want to jinx a good thing – or have either of you snooping on him via Facebook. Dad’s the absolute worst!”

“He’ll just want to make sure that you’re not dating a snake in the grass or someone who’s leading you down a primrose path.”

“Well, Dad doesn’t need to worry – and neither do you. I know where I stand with him.” You’d always known where you stood with Antonio, and hopefully you always would. No matter how much he tried to make you question your feelings for him – despite your age, despite the history, despite the inappropriate circumstances of your first time together – you knew what your heart wanted.

In a way, maybe you always had.

“Well, I’m your mother – I’ll always worry about you. But you certainly sound… happy about him. And like you’ve covered your bases well enough.”

“I have, Mom – or, rather, we have.”

Another sigh sounded in your ear. “Then, I guess that’s all I can ask for - for now, anyway. You’re not off the hook for good, young lady. We’ll want a nice, long conversation with you once you're home… and your father will push for his name.”

“I know he will. And my answer will be the same then as it is now – I will tell you when he and I are both ready to tell you.”

Your mother sighed again, a clear tell that she wanted to keep pressing the issue but thought better of it. “Well, then I suppose we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Do take care of yourself, sweetie – we miss you so.”

“Yeah, I miss you guys, too. The holidays aren’t too far away now.”

“But fortunately far enough for us to process this bombshell news, my goodness. I’ll call you when I get ready to book your tickets home.”

“Sounds good, Mom. Love you.”

The call ended after goodbyes, and you dropped your phone to the open textbook with a long sigh.

At least it didn’t go as horrifically as you’d imagined. You had pictured your mom boarding the first flight out, banging on your door and demanding answers. But it had been time to start the conversation with your parents. It would take them time to get used to the idea of you and Antonio. And, even then, you wondered if they ever would approve. Of course, he had never acted inappropriately to you until that last afternoon in his office – when you all but begged him to.

“Holy crap.” Your roommate’s voice filtered through your closed bedroom door. “That sounded like one of the most awkward conversations.”

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you pushed to your feet. “Yeah.” You opened the door and padded out to the living room, dropping beside her on the couch. “Like I said, she wasn’t happy.”

“Well, he is older.”

“I didn’t even tell her that part yet.”

“I heard.”

You groaned, reaching for a throw pillow. “Undoubtedly, I have the most-awkward, worst-ever first meeting with the parents coming up.”

“It’s sweet in its own way, though. You care about each other that much.” She continued. “That you’re willing to risk your parents’ displeasure, and that he’s willing to risk their wrath. It’s like… I don’t know – something out of those old stories where the hero and heroine are so worried about what their parents think that they’ll just elope regardless of what society says.”

“Fortunately, my parents don’t get a direct say in who I date. Or marry.”

Your roommate arched an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me that you two are already talking about marriage…?”

You shrugged a shoulder. “Not seriously right now, anyway. But it has come up, you know. He’s certainly old enough, and just went through a major upheaval… and, he wants to make sure that he’s not wasting my time or vice-versa.”

“God, how did you get so lucky?” She scoffed. “I mean – aside from the whole he’s-my-former-priest thing.” A laugh punctuated her words. “I guess you could say it really was God that brought you two together, huh?”

Neither of you had thought of it quite like that, and you were pretty sure that your parents wouldn’t either. “We’ll see. For right now, we’re happy. And when I’m not talking with my mother, it’s easy to forget about their would-be judgments.”

Your watch pinged with a text from a most familiar sender.

Come over when you’re ready

A smile broke wide on your face, and your roommate just shook her head as she spoke. “That’s him, isn’t it?

“Yep. And about damn time, too.” You abandoned the throw pillow and stood, heading for your room. “Don’t wait up.”

“Ugh, please.” She called out as you moved around your room, packing your backpack and overnight bag. “I have far better things to do while you’re off having unfairly hot sex with your unfairly handsome boyfriend.”

In no time, you found yourself walking up the stairs to Antonio’s apartment. Of course, as a gainfully employed adult he could afford a much nicer place than yours, and you always enjoyed time in his personal space. He opened the door wearing black joggers and the softest navy v-neck sweater over a gray t-shirt. His hair looked a little mussed from the day, but no less touchable as the door closed and he drew you in for a hug.

Dropping your bags on the floor, you fell into his arms and basked in the simple, reassuring contact. He always smelled of pleasant sandalwood these days, and you drew a deep inhale, letting your mouth curl to a satisfied smile. “Mmm, a much-needed hug.” You murmured against his neck, pressing a gentle kiss to his skin.

“Rough day, mi querida?” He pulled back to regard you with tender concern.

You shook your head, losing yourself in his kind eyes. “Not really. I just… talked with my mom a little bit ago.”

He arched an intrigued brow but otherwise said nothing, knowing that you would say whatever you wanted in your own time. His hand rubbed small, supportive circles against your lower back.

You sighed. “Like we talked about, I finally told her about you. Rather, the idea of you.” An embarrassed smile teased the corner of your mouth. “That her little girl is no longer a little girl.”

A flash of apprehension sparked in his eyes, but it quickly faded as he nodded. “And how did that news go over?”

“Like I thought it would – like a lead balloon.” You shook your head dismissively. “But she needs to get over it. I care about you too much to let her stand in my way.”

The corner of his mouth lifted as he raised a hand to cradle your cheek. “We both knew this wouldn’t be easy. But I still wouldn’t change a thing.”

You leaned in to meet his lips, indulging a kiss that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. A smile warmed your face as he drew back, never having felt more content with such a simple act of affection. You turned to retrieve your bags and followed him further into his apartment, dropping them just inside his bedroom.

“How does baked chicken and steamed broccoli sound?” His voice sounded from the kitchen as you moved back down the small hallway.

“Sounds pretty boring and far too healthy.”

He met your tease with a gentle smile as playful mirth glinted in his eyes. “Best to start developing those habits while we’re both young.”

You looked him up and down with a deliberate rake of your eyes. “I don’t know… you already look pretty good to me. Are you sure that you wouldn’t rather order a pizza or Chinese take-out?”

“Not tonight, my wicked temptress.” He turned for the fridge as you stepped over to the sink to wash your hands. “At least you didn’t suggest macaroni and cheese.”

“Hey, man. Now that’s a real sacrilege - dissing on mac’n cheese like that.”

He brandished a head of broccoli at you. “At the risk of sounding like a boring, old man - this is much better for you.” He lobbed the vegetable towards you in a slow arc, and you caught it with a wide grin.

“I know, I know. And don’t kid yourself - you are a boring, old man. But you’re mine, and I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

It still amazed you how easily you fell into domestic ease with Antonio. How easily the two of you moved around each other as the broccoli was chopped and the chicken seasoned. How comfortably you settled against his chest to watch TV while savory aromas grew in the air. How fluidly you each talked about your day - commiserating over the woes of chemistry, bemoaning the randomly closed lane of traffic that snarled both of your afternoon drives, awing at the adorable girl who came into his work with a stuffed rabbit easily twice her size.

And when the last dish was dry, it was just as easy for you to retire to his kitchen table with your textbook while he settled against the couch with his own master’s degree reading. The comfortable silence still struck you in random moments - especially when you glanced over at him stretched out, balancing the book on his stomach and wearing his thick-framed reading glasses.

How had you ever gotten so lucky with a man like him?

You honestly tried not to question it too much. Especially not when he turned the living room lights off, and you pulled him into his bedroom, lost to the taste of him. Not when you both fell against his bed, pressed skin to skin. And certainly not when you wrapped your body around him, moaning with abandon as he slid inside and made you whole. Nor when he moved so tenderly and deeply as to make you see stars. Nor when a tear wet your eye as you clutched him close and came blindingly hard around him.

You didn’t know for sure what love felt like… but how could it feel any different than this?

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Tag BrühList: @hiraeth-the-dreamer @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @glimmering-darling-dolly @linkpk88 @zem0laufeys0n @fandom-princess-forevermore

[brawltogethernow]

@mirrorfalls​ submitted: Came across this while searching for James Bond’s scrambled-eggs recipe (long story). Your thoughts?

~~

But did you find James Bond’s scrambled eggs recipe?

In this article, Scocca laments his inability to find accessible, lighthearted superhero comics suitable to read with his young son, while also demonstrating a mysterious aversion to looking at DC and Marvel’s lines of comics for children, which is where the accessible, lighthearted superhero comics suitable for reading with young children are. He wants his elementary schooler to be able to safely have the run of all superhero media so he doesn’t have to touch the yucky baby books.

This is not an industry-wide crisis. This is just one dude who got paid to write an article where he accidentally exposed one of his personal hangups.

The child headed toward the trade paperbacks of Marvel and D.C. superhero titles on the side wall […] a few steps in front of me. […] Is he with you? a clerk asked me. I said he was. You know, the clerk said, we have a kids’ section. The clerk gestured backward, at a few shelves near the entrance. I said, Thanks, we know and tried throwing in a little shrug, as the kid kept going.

You can’t just turn a seven-year-old child loose in a comic-book store to look at the superhero comic books. […] My seven-year-old really wanted to see that last Avengers movie […] that is, he wished it were a movie he could see, but he understood that it was, instead, a movie designed to scare and sadden him—a movie actively hostile to people like him.

They have a children’s section. Because comics are a medium suitable for stories for everybody, and they are sold in comic book shops, which have sections, like bookstores. You can use this organization to find books that you know in advance are suitable for children. What goes in that category is determined by industry professionals. This area will be bigger the bigger the shop is. These comics are not lower quality that titles from the main lines. They are actually slightly better-written on average.

Your local comic book shop has considerately wrapped Empowered in a plastic bag, so your child will not be drawn in by a colorful superhero and accidentally read a graphic scene. If you think your kid might find a memoir about internment camps upsetting, it is your job to notice them picking up They Called Us Enemy and read the blurb on the back before you let them have it. This comic adults are meant to read is in a comic book shop because that is where comics are sold. Not every public place is supposed to be Disneyland.

Movies have ratings systems. If you do not want your child to watch a PG-13 movie, you will find that most superhero cartoons are for children. They are about the same characters. Some are quite good! I really enjoyed Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Your child may like Avengers Assemble. At least I think that’s right. I’m always mixing those titles around.

This is a deeply weird bias for Scocca to casually demonstrate, because he identifies in the article that real childishness is striving for empty maturity.

He compares an old comic,

[…]a 1966 Spider-Man comic in which Spider-Man meets, fights, and defeats the Rhino; participates in a running argument between John Jameson and J. Jonah Jameson about his heroism; buys a motorcycle; breaks up with his first girlfriend, Betty Brant; flirts with Gwen Stacy; and reluctantly agrees to let Aunt May take him to meet her friend Mrs. Watson’s niece, Mary Jane.

and a new comic,

[…]a 21st century comic book in which Thor, brooding in a Katrina-destroyed New Orleans, beats up Iron Man. He also yells at Iron Man a lot about some incomprehensibly convoluted set of grievances, including involuntary cloning, that he believes Iron Man perpetrated against him while he was dead(?), and then summons some other Norse god from the beyond somehow for reasons having something to do with real estate. I think. Where the 1966 comic is zippy and fun and complete, the whole contemporary one is muddled and lugubrious and seems to constitute a tiny piece of a seemingly endless plot arc—simultaneously apocalyptic and inert.

and concludes that the edgier comic is actually less mature. This is true. (This is not news about mediocre comics.)

It also has nothing to do with either comic being child-friendly, the article’s nominal thesis, except in the sense that ASM #41 (yes, I eyeballed that from that summary, yes I am just showing off now) is better written, making it more everyone-friendly. It also has practically more space dedicated to word balloons than art and is about a college student juggling girl problems and a part-time job with a tyrannical boss. But the immature one, as Scocca points out, is dour.

These are both teenagery issues, separated only by quality. It’s true that lots of new comics published by the big 2 are bad in the specific way Scocca describes here, taking themselves too seriously and hauled down by associated stories instead of buoyed by them. Some are not! Some titles from these companies’ main continuities are zippy, contained, and child friendly. Give your child The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl! Or if you like vintage comics so much better, why don’t you…buy some?

The books on the kid’s rack are good and fun and totally suitable for parents to read with their children without wanting to scoop their eyeballs out. Scocca cites the Batman ‘66 comics as the brightly colored, tightly written all ages solution to his problem about sharing superhero stories with his son. My local comic shop stores this title in the kid’s section. I am glad that Scocca’s does not, as he seems to have a peculiar aversion to looking for comics to read with his son there.

Scocca cites Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse as a superhero movie he could watch with his kids. (I was surprised when this line made it sound like he has several. I don’t want to assume the other one isn’t in this article because they’re a girl, but I very much am assuming that.) Great! Go to the kid’s section and look for Marvel Adventures: Spider-Man. It’s a fun, zippy title directly inspired by ITSV where Miles, Gwen, and Peter superhero together. It’s much more tightly written than most of the various Spider-Verse comics, which are ambitiously messy ubercrossovers. You may not want to give those to children because they include murder and so on, but also you just have the choice between the two as an adult reader deciding how much continuity you want to deal with. Adventures is one of the only titles I would buy on sight before corona. The kid comic rack is a reliable place to take a break from How Comics Get Sometimes regardless of how old you are.

This article makes me feel quarrelsome. Maybe it’s that it doesn’t seem like exploration of a single idea so much as a loosely grouped bundle of things to kvetch about. Maybe it’s that the experience of getting into superheroes that Scocca describes experiencing, projects his seven-year-old son will experience, and from which he extrapolates a metaphorical microcosm of the history of the genre is completely alien to me.

Comic books [and] comic-book movies—are […] trapped in their imagined audience’s own awful passage from childhood to adolescence. A seven-year-old has a clean […] appreciation of superheroes. They like hero comics because the comics have heroes: bold, strong, vividly colored good guys to fight off the bad guys and make the world safe.

But seven-year-olds stop being seven. […] They become 13-year-olds, defensively trying to learn how to develop tastes about tastes.

The 13-year-old wants many things from comics, but the overarching one is that they want to prove that they’re not some seven-year-old baby anymore. They want gloomy heroes, miserable heroes, heroes who would make a seven-year-old feel bad. (Also boobs. They want boobs.)

Not because of the boobs line, although that does illicit an eyeroll that this gloomy thinkpiece is fretting over preserving the superhero experience of little boys who resemble the little boy the writer was while casually dismissing everyone else. I was one of those unlikable little seven-year-olds with a college reading level and the impression that maintaining it was the crux of my worth. I only read Books - distinguished media you could club someone with. I have a formative memory of pausing, enraptured, in front of a poster for Spider-Man 3, preparing to say that it looked pretty cool, and being beaten to the punch by my mother making a disparaging comment about how the movie was trash. It wasn’t out yet, but it was a superhero movie. That meant it was for loud, brainless children.

That was the total of my childhood experience with superheroes, excluding being the unwilling audience to incessant renditions of “Jingle Bells, Batman Smells” that left me wondering why in god’s name Batman’s sidekick was named Robin. I certainly never visited a comic book shop. I got into TvTropes, which got me into webcomics, which got me following David Willis, who got me into Ask Chris at ComicsAlliance, which led to me rewarding myself for studying like a demon for the AP tests with three volumes of Waid’s Daredevil, pitched as a return to the character being colorful and swashbuckling. I was seven…teen.

This is of the same thread as Scocca’s point that immaturity is running from childish things. It leaves me baffled that he doesn’t follow that maturity is embracing them.

I will disclose here that while I think it was dumb I had to overcome my upbringing’s deeply embedded shame associated with enjoying arbitrarily defined lowbrow media and children being childish, I think it’s fine that I was allowed largely unchecked access to technically age-inappropriate content. In my limited experience, content small children are too young for is also content they’re too young to understand, so it kind of just bounces off of them, and what actually ends up terrorizing them is unpredictable collages of impressions that strike out at them from content deemed perfectly child-friendly. I would not forbid a seven-year-old I was in charge of from seeing an MCU movie unless I had a reason to believe that specific child would not take it well. These are emotionally low-stakes bubblegum films. It will probably be easier to socialize with other kids if they have seen them.

But then, when I picture being in charge of a hypothetical child, I usually imagine this being the case because they are related to me, and the pupal stage in my family strongly resembles Wednesday Addams. ALL children love death and violence, though, right?? This isn’t a joke point. I know it looks like a joke point.

The MCU thing seems especially weird in light of the article’s particular focus on Spider-Man, which is the kiddie line of the MCU, even if they refused to waver from their usual formula enough to get a lower rating. Though I am more inclined to describe it as “preying on the young” than “child-friendly”.

(MCU movies are increasingly dubious propaganda, but I would not judge them in front of a child who wanted to watch them for that reason, just in case this led to them partaking of them without me the second they were old enough to and then they grew up to run a blog about them while our relationship suffered because they didn’t feel like it was safe to talk to me about their interests…Mom.)

I tried to overcome the philosophy of letting anyone read anything while compiling this handful of mostly-newish superhero recs for the road that anyone can read. (Handily, I have been in spitting distance of being hired as a comic shop clerk enough to have thought about it before):

For actual children:

Marvel Adventures Spider-Man (the new one is reminiscent of ITSV, the old one is more like 616) any DC/Archie crossover, Archie’s Superteens The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl (for bookish children who think they’re too good for comics and adults afraid of the kid’s section) Teen Titans Go (even if you hate the show) Superman Smashes the Klan

For teens:

Ms. Marvel Young Avengers (volume 2) Unbelievable Gwenpool Batman: Gotham Adventures Teen Titans Go (the tie-in comic based off the old show was also called this)

Here are a bunch of relevant C. S. Lewis quotes.

[lightneverfades]

Tehee! The Frostiron Holiday Wishes challenge ❆ is officially closed for submissions, and OPEN FOR CLAIMS! 🎅🎄 (Wishlist)

Sorry for the delay in posting the wishlist! And thank you so much to everyone who’s submitted prompts! :D ♥ ♥ ♥ 

For those not aware of the challenge, you can see what it it’s all about in the original post here! :)

*** This post was last updated: 12/8/2020 ***

Rules for Claiming a ‘Wish’

❆ Artists can claim as many ‘wishes’ (idea/prompt) as they want and fill them (as all prompts are not designated to a specific artist)!

After you’ve picked up a ‘Wish’ to Fill 

❆ Please be sure to contact me (lightneverfades) via message which one you chose! ❆ When you finish creating the artwork for the wish (ideally before Dec 24), please be sure to send me the art/fic/etc you’ve made! (If you need help sending it to me, let me know and I’ll help!)  ❆ I know you might be excited, but the surprise is what makes this fun, so please keep your artwork a secret until Dec 24 & 25!

❆ On Dec 24 & 25 (Christmas Eve and Christmas Day!) 🎅🎄, I will post a MASTER POST including links/photos/etc of all the artwork/completed fills received for the prompts below! :)

Types of Fills ✨

❆ Any type of fan works is allowed - That means fan fics, fan art (drawings, digital graphics), fan videos and fan mixes!

Note: *= Anything with this means I couldn’t directly tag the user’s name. (Please contact me and I will edit it so that it works!)

FAQ ✨

Q: Is there a word limit?  A: Nope, there is no word limit! ;) Although it will be ideal if the fic in general is a complete work! 

Without further ado, here are the wishes received for the challenge! ♥

Requester: @kimmycup​  Rating: G (General audience) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Invasion fic where Tony figures out Loki was mind controlled before Loki does: "But I WAS in control. Thanos didn't control me like I did Clint." "Yeah sure. And if you wanted to take over the world, what would you do?" Loki spluttered, fully aware that plan was dumb. Still, he would KNOW if he were controlled... Right? "But I wasn't mind controlled! It was me!"

Requester: @kimmycup​ Rating: G (General audience) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Loki in Tony's MIT sweatshirt.

Requester: @worstloki​  Rating: T (Teen and up audiences) Trigger warning: nothing nsfw please >:) Wish (Prompt/Idea): Tony and Loki both having panic attacks at the same time. just make it wild. whatever the reasons are, maybe it's the same reason? maybe they have shared triggers? maybe it's separate reasons? maybe the other avengers are around and don't realize the incoming attacks and keep bringing up bad memories? maybe one of them notices the other is freaking out and defends them? maybe drags them away only to also start having a panic attack? whatever. they're both freaking out and just kinda do that. they then bond over it. (this can be crack or angsty I don't mind)

Requester: Nivael * Rating: E (Explicit) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): I’d always had that idea in my head, that Loki somehow took notice of Tony during the events of Thor 1, when he was on earth/watched Thor on earth.He fell in love with the mortal that was at the same time so different yet similar to him. So when he fell from the Rainbow bridge and into Thanos’ hands he planned to sabotage earths invasion from the very start to save Tony. Fast forward to at least after the end of Thor 2, (when Loki takes Odin’s place in the MCU) Loki escapes to earth after Thor thinks he’s been killed by the dark elves. He knows Thanos won’t rest until the infinity stones are his and the earth is still in danger. So he watches Tony to keep him save. With all the self hatred and lack of self esteem he harbors, he does not plan to actually act on his feelings, because he does not think he could be worthy of Tony. Plus, he invaded earth, caused lots of casualties, he’s an ugly Frost giant and the god of lies...so... yeah. He cannot think of one reason why Tony could be interested in him.But his feelings draw him to Stark and one day while following him, Loki gets careless and Tony discovers him. (Maybe Loki even discreetly intervenes a few times when Tony is in danger and Tony doesn’t notice until one day he does...?). So Stark confronts him and bit by bit (because Loki is not very cooperative and the least he wants is for Tony to discover his "ugly" emotional secret) he uncovers the truth about Thanos, the invasion and how Loki feels for him. I can imagine Loki to react ashamed, dismissive and maybe aggressive when Tony finally finds out. Tony, not being stupid, already suspected something to be fishy about the invasion. With how much Thor told him about Lokis wit and cleverness, he finds it hard to believe that Loki would make so many obvious mistakes. But now that he knows, all makes sense.Loki still watches over Tony, but keeps his distance. Until one day he saves Tonys life during a (random) attack and gets badly injured. With Lokis life on the line Stark realizes he has feelings for Loki and he takes him in to take care of his wounds. Healing takes some time so the two have plenty of time to get to know each other and deepen their feelings. Smut may follow :D (Oh... I am SO SORRY this became so much. God, it is too much, isn’t it? And sorry for my english o.o)

Requester: Nivael * Rating: E (Explicit) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Loki and Tony are in an established relationship. Things go great, but Loki is still unaccepting of his Jotun heritage and body. While Tony is completely fascinated by it, partly because Loki tries to hide it so hard. So he gets a fancy magical gadget from Strange (amulet, bracelet,...?) to be able to avoid frostbite so he can touch Loki even when he's in his Jotun form. Then there will be smut! :D

Requester: @brianadoesart​  Rating: T (Teen and up audiences) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): MERMAIDS. I like mermaids. Either a fic or art, but I just want more content of mer-Loki or mer-Tony.   I always enjoy versions where Loki is an underwater prince who falls in love with a stupid human inventor by the name of Tony. He's never been 100% happy in the palace with Thor and the others, so he often would go to the shore to watch the humans. He sees Tony working on the beach one day and becomes interested in him from there on. Basically a little mermaid type thing... I am easy to please. I just like mermaids.

Requester: @brianadoesart​ Rating: G (General audience) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): A.... Among Us au.......  Impostor Loki protecting his crewmate friend Tony from the other impostors.... I..... Tony and Loki as Among Us beans...

Requester: @arandomsewer​   Rating: M (Mature) Trigger warning: Mentions of trauma and past abuse and racism, maybe sex? Just some drama and comfort Wish (Prompt/Idea): I just want him to live on and being supported by his Friends and his brother recognizing him, that's basically the prompt. Tho here's the details of the Idea I had: Loki is living at the tower with the others (of course) too proud to say out loud how much he likes life on earth... The usual.Something happens and suddenly the magic that made him look Asgardian is just not working anymore. Understandably, he freaks out. Im talking hides in his room, crying, anger, hate, on himself and others... The whole lot, he just throws a major fit.The others know him and kind of understand and are patient... But it’s not getting fixed. Days pass, and he's stuck like this. After a while Tony snaps him out of It, and he slowly calms down and starts learning to accept this side of himself. It’s specially strange to him how he can just walk in a room and no one treats him different. How the others are even fascinated by this form. I expect Thor being shocked and curious and snapped at and reminded how he (and his people on general) have been unfair to Loki... And of course, there's the romance with Tony, Who loves him in all his forms (and they fit together 'cause he's kinky and Loki a shapeshifter)Also imagine Loki being terrified of touching Tony and then finding out he's cold to the touch but not actually dangerous (my headcanon: he's the son of Hella. Half giant and half Asgardian, and the actual heir... But that's for another fic)

Requester: @brianadoesart​​ Rating: G (General audience)   Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Tony has been living alone for so long that Pepper and Rhodey decide to find him a roommate. They've tried living with him themselves, but they're both so busy it didn't really help Tony's loneliness. So they put out an ad for someone who specifically works from home. Choosing to keep it secret WHO they need a roommate for, they get some applicants, but not the crazy amount they normally would. Rhodey and Pepper go through all the applicants, even meet with them, and they choose a nice, smart author named Loki. He's the perfect candidate- he's even excited by the idea that his new roommate has no idea he's even GETTING a roommate. He finds it funny. They introduce Loki and Tony and sit back and watch everything unfold. Obviously it ends up with Tony and Loki falling for each other in the end, but seeing the shenanigans of them trying to cohabitate would be hilarious. Just watching them learn each other and begin to care about each other. I would like to see it.

Requester: @brianadoesart​​ Rating: T (Teen and up audiences) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Cupcake shop au!!!  One of our boys owns a cupcake shop and the other one is a FREQUENT visitor to said coffee shop. Lots of people think its because they have a sweet tooth, but they're just hopelessly in love with whichever one owns the shop.

Requester: @loufeysson​​ Rating: M (Mature) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Hi! my prompt is teenage Tony and android Loki in a futuristic universe (in the style of Black Mirror, maybe?) 🥺👉🏼👈🏼 Thank you!

Requester: @blancoluna​ Rating: M (Mature) Trigger warning: CRACK, haha Wish (Prompt/Idea): Basically Friga wonders where she went wrong, asks the Oracle and goes on a guilt trip realizing she messed up to Valhalla and back. The idea is, being a queen-godess of family, she should be able to do something about it, maybe traveling in time or something... And Loki's gonna need powerful allies and Friends, like the Avengers, for example Now the same, but with detail. This is the way I imagined It. Perhaps it’s too much drama? I just don't know how to tackle It or how to go from here:After everything that happened, Frigga wonders where she went wrong, not just with Loki, but with Thor who didn't appreciate his brother, Odín, who treated him unfairly and even the servants, Who didn't respect him.She wonders if she could have done anything, and the guilt wont let her sleep until she goes to the well of wisdom, the Oracle, to seek answers.She is warned the truth may be even more painful. She may not like the answer... But she goes in.It is way worse than she thought: in one second she is reminded of all the times she should have acted, and chose not to, and she sees how It affected her family.She could and should have done something, and she had plenty of time, but at every chance she chose not to. And its perhaps worse than what Odin did because she knew It was wrong but chose to do nothing about It.But even more: It is confirmed to her that not only Odín never gave Loki a chance: he didn't find him. He stole him from the temple where he was guarded. He is not just the son of Louffey, but also of Hella, and thus, the actual heir to the throne of Asgard.She was supposed to be the godess of family, and here she was, consumed by guilt and shame, by having followed blindly a King Who abused her children and betrayed his own heir, aside from many other crimes.But Frigga can't just spend the test of eternity crying. She must do something. She was raised by witches!!Will she manage to get her hands on the time Stone? Or Will she just travel to another dimension to warn a younger version of herself? Will this be the beginning of a new multiverse? The possibilities are endless, when the godess of family must avenge her child...But first: for him to have a better Life he would need support, allies... Friends. (Enter the Avengers) 

Add-on: Frigga having this vision was just meant to be a one shot that would connect many different alternative stories, all with the 'what if Frigga did something for Loki' as a common base. All of them would be Frostiron 'cause I honestly believe they are just meant for one another! It is just so open to so many possibilities... That I never got to writing any of them. 

One of the first ideas I had following this concept was of Frigga introducing Tony and Loki early on somehow: as kids they would be like 'imaginary friends' then Tony manages to contact him and they are webcam buds... As young adults, they would help each other go a different path than they did in other lives.... and when Loki needed help, he had allies to back him. (The Avengers, whom Tony may have introduced to him earlier)

Requester: @snarkyship​​ Rating: T (Teen and up audiences) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Human/no powers AU. Sort-of-enemies to friends to lovers.Tony rents this house/bungalow by the sea for the summer, with a kind of private beach where there is also a cute gazebo. Only that the gazebo is exactly halfway with the other property (by some mistake?). And the tenant of the neighbour bungalow is Loki, who's not so keen on sharing. So Loki&Tony will start a "war" to gain possession of the gazebo, doing their worst using the excuse of "this is my half, I can use it as I want". ((Optional: there is a table right in the middle, so at the beginning they sit at their own side glaring at each other, before starting deploying more convoluted tactics)).Mischief after mischief, they will start to know each other and of course everything will end with one of them inviting the other to their half for a romantic dinner and they'll end up sharing more than the gazebo <3((I hope it's enough clear and but also not too detailed??))

Requester: @snarkyship​​ Rating: T (Teen and up audiences) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Finally Tony has managed to locate Loki's whereabouts. And it turns out the godling lives in a pretty loft in Manhattan, with all the comforts and the most advanced midgardian technology ((lighting, temperature and everything controlled by a tablet - the Stark latest model!- , appliances linked to the wifi, and has that roomba a knife??)).Tony decides to have a little fun: who said Loki is the only one who can do a little mischief?? So he takes control over Loki's apartment hacking its system; he starts with some flickering lights, the roomba changing suddenly trajectory to stab him, then blasting music in the middle of the night and so on.And Loki would be so frustrated: at the beginning he thinks about some failure in the inferior midgardian technology, then he'll think to be under attack, but he can't feel any magic signature!! Maybe he'll freak out a little, because there is some kind of unknown entity??? ((And while he may be using all the technology without problems, it doesn't mean he fully understands its working)).Tony will have fun, but he also will discover some cute aspects of Loki's personality, like he sings to his plants and he likes to wear fuzzy socks ((ok it sounds voyeuristic, but Tony would respect part Loki's privacy, maybe he'll spy on him only when in the living room or kitchen)).((And maybe he would help Loki as well? Like, the godling had a nightmare after falling asleep on the couch, and Tony would gently woke him up with music))Loki will eventually understand that Stark, the most clever midgardian, was behind all of this, and well, he's the God of Mischief, he can appreciate a well planned trick. Time to return the favor ;)

Requester: @martiszcz​ Rating: M (Mature) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Someone is trying to break them up by making Loki jealous, mentioning Tony's playboy years, talking about the time they slept with Tony, talking about how much time he spends with some friend (Pepper, Rhodey, I don't care who) but Loki doesn't react - they trust each other.

Requester: @shinindragon​  Rating: T (Teen and up audiences) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): The Avengers + Loki fight a villain. Loki uses a lot of his magic, eventually almost draining his energy completely when he protects Tony from getting hurt. When the battle is over, they return to the tower, all of them exhausted. Tony notices Loki doesn't look well, he asks if he's okay. Loki barely gets a word out before he collapses into Tony's arms, unconscious. Thor carries Loki to Tony's and his bedroom, explaining to Tony that he'll be alright, it's just exhaustion from an excessive use of magic. Tony stays with Loki, taking care of him. Fluff and with a sprinkle of angst. 

Requester: @lightneverfades​ (Lol yup, shamelessly requesting as well haha!) Rating: T (Teen and up audiences) or M (Mature) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Detroit: Become Human AU - Young Tony Stark is neglected by his father, who is the CEO of CyberLife corporation. He craves for his attention and approval but doesn’t get it, causing him to become so bitter one day that he sneaks into one of the labs to sabotage whatever work he is doing. Tony comes across an abandoned RK800 model (also known as ‘Loki’), about to be taken apart for parts. He salvages the model before it gets destroyed, feeling sorry for this inanimate object that’s being thrown away so carelessly. He rebuilds Loki again in secret, and Loki becomes his friend through lonely times (Tony is there to help Loki understand humans, life, language, etc and Loki just keeps Tony company). Tragedy strikes the Stark family though, when his parents die in a car accident. Loki is there to help him and as Tony starts to grow up and become a man (he continues to fix Loki when he breaks down or updates him), Loki’s system starts to show signs similar to that of human emotions, although Tony is completely unaware of this. At a certain point though, Tony - in one of his bad moods - decides that he doesn’t need Loki anymore and shuts him down and puts him away in storage, resolving to move on with life without these ‘distractions’ to keep him company (image a scene where Tony is angry and throws that frustration and loneliness onto Loki, who tries to calm him down and sooth away his anxiety (’I understand you’) but Tony’s all (‘But you’re just a machine!’) and although Tony isn’t aware, Loki feels a spark of hurt, though even he can’t explain what this emotion means.)  Years pass and eventually Tony forgets about Loki. He earns a name for himself, having taken over his father’s company (which still creates androids and in addition, creates weaponry of mass destruction as well). Obadiah is watching over Tony’s company (he is the one who ‘suggested’ he focus on building a name for himself and to shut out any ‘distractions’ that get in the way: namely Loki. Over the years, he saw how Tony interacted with the android and he had the uneasy sense that the android had matured into something more than its primary use. He considers Loki a threat). The events of Iron Man happen, with Tony being captured by the Ten Rings and then escaping. During his days confined at home to recover, he stumbles upon Loki and decides to reboot him again (partly out of guilt and partly because he’s lonely again). He finds comfort with Loki once more.  Tony decides to crash the charity party by making an appearance with Loki as his ‘bodyguard’. Obadiah sees this and is not happy about this strange attachment Tony has over this android.  Loki helps Tony build his first prototypes of the Iron Man suit, and they get to reacquaint themselves. One day, Loki sees on the news that there are a number of deviant android cases and is confused by what he sees, but it soon dawns on him that he might be feeling emotions for Tony, finally understanding the true meaning, especially when Tony is injured (while Loki is out on an errand) and Obadiah ambushes Tony by stealing the mini arc reactor in his chest.  Shortly afterwards, to spite Tony, Obadiah hacks into Loki’s system and tries to eradicate the ‘deviancy’ he sensed in Loki years ago and turn the android against Tony (he tries to make Loki kill him). It doesn’t work - on the contrary, it finally frees Loki. Together, Tony and Loki go against Obadiah, who is intent on destroying them and taking over CyberLife corp.

Requester: @lightneverfades​ (Lol yup, shamelessly requesting as well haha!) Rating: T (Teen and up audiences)  Trigger warning: Sickly, happy song cliches! xD Hah! Wish (Prompt/Idea): In which Tony or Loki (you can choose) is cursed by Amora to relive a week in which their lives suddenly become a musical and everyone around them spontaneously bursts into dance and song. (I have this image of Loki bursting into song about something ridiculous and Tony’s like, “What the HELL, what’s going on!”). This could either be enemies-to-lovers or it could start from them already being in a relationship. Bonus points if the Avengers team all burst into song together and there’s actually lyrics!! (Then I can actually make up a tune/sing it during the last month of 2020 so this year ends with rainbows and fluff and HAPPY FROSTIRON THOUGHTS! XD)

Requester: @lightneverfades​ (Lol yup, shamelessly requesting as well haha!) Rating: T (Teen and up audiences) or M (Mature) Trigger warning: FLUFF OVERLOAD! <3 Mpreg (might not be everyone’s cup of tea) Wish (Prompt/Idea): Loki has a kid with Tony (eeehehe, go all in with the loving and caring Tony fussing over his pregnant enemy-turned-boyfriend-turned-husband), calls her Morgan. Tony is obsessed with buying baby clothes for their daughter to the point where he has a closet dedicated to socks (lol he can’t get enough of small baby clothes and the potential to make his daughter look like a rainbow?!). Lol, I don’t even know! Just domestic bliss I guess! <3 Bonus points if Tony buys Christmas sweaters for his fam, including the Avengers, who dote on baby Morgan like their own (Thor with his anime eyes). Or even better, if baby Morgan grows up and plays little tricks on Uncle Thor and Loki and Tony chuckle in the background as Thor lets his niece do whatever she wants, cause he loves him too much to care, lol~

Requester: @lightneverfades​ (Lol yup, shamelessly requesting as well haha!) Rating: M (Mature) Trigger warning: CRACK, haha Wish (Prompt/Idea): Loki is a yoga instructor and one day Tony goes to one of his classes and finds out the best positions to ‘relax’ - body, mind and soul >:D. (I love puns, so go crazy hahaha!) 

[curly-bangtan]

Heatwave Drabble #2: needy

[Heatwave // Godless] [Drabble Masterlist]

Pairing: fwb!Taehyung x reader

Summary: Lines between you are dangerously blurred.

Genre: drabble, domestic fluff, angst, fwb au, roommates au

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: (graphic?) mentions of smut, needy!Tae acting like your boyfriend when he’s not your boyfriend, confusing feelings 😬

A/N: I love this couple, ok bye.

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‘Y/N’ Taehyung whines. You turn to pin him with hooded unimpressed eyes. ‘I’m horny.’

The two of you have been sleeping together for a few months now, it’s a carefully crafted, consensual agreement between two adults, two close friends. You have sex whenever you want to, no strings attached, friendship unaffected, none of that exclusive bullshit or godforbidden feelings. Just sex.

Sometimes you go a week without fucking each other, other times it’s five times in one night. There really is no strict schedule, it’s a casual, open relationship.

No, not relationship.

Friend(s-who-have-sex)ship.

After that club night, you both decided that there is an undeniable sexual tension between you that hovers beyond your platonic dynamic, yet it is purely physical. Neither of you are seeking anything more, neither of you want to give up your promiscuity for each other.

Thus births… Whatever this is.

‘And what about it?’ Sunday afternoon, you’re lounging on your cream L-shaped couch like vegetables, watching your favourite episodes of The Office. Taehyung is reclined on you, his head cradled in your arms in place of a cushion, and he’s stroking your hand a little too sweetly. Cuddling while watching a show together isn’t uncommon between you, though he is almost always the one to instigate it.

At your apathetic response, he pouts, nuzzling into your bosom. This is exactly the baby behaviour he know that drives you wild; since when have you been about to resist such a docile sub?

This is the same guy who asks you to call him daddy.

‘Why are you being so cold?’ From the corner of your vision, you see the puppy eyes he’s giving you. You have to resist rolling your own. He can be so needy sometimes.

‘We fucked this morning.’ You state, watching the television intently, purposely not giving him the attention he’s trying to lure.

It was a great fuck, in fact; several toys were used and you both came twice. You can still feel the phantom of his cock shoving inside you while he used the vibrator on your clit. Shuddering, you try not to bring up that memory in your head again to prevent your own arousal from perking.

‘That’s never stopped you before.’ Huffing, he snakes an arm around your waist and plays with the hem of your shirt. Of course, he’s not even paying attention to the show anymore. It irritates you when he requests to watch The Office with you then does not even look at the bloody screen for the most of it.

‘You should get a girlfriend, then, if you’re so horny all the time.’ Your tone isn’t bitter, but you guess it’s a little blunt.

Because you’re not his girlfriend. You’re nobody’s girlfriend. Ever.

Taehyung sits up abruptly at what you said, the warmth of his body instantly peeling off your front. His repulsion to the G-word is even physical as he scoots away from you. ‘I don’t want a girlfriend. Dating is so much effort, first you have to take them out to nice places and get to know them, then you have to see whether you’re actually compatible, and then you meet the friends and family who may or may not like you. That’s so annoying!’ He whines, unconsciously palming his crotch that appears to be slightly stiff.

True. Relationships are so demanding and complicated. Why would you wish to always have someone constantly asking your whereabouts? Why would you willingly be tied down to a single person? Why would you give them so much of yourself when they could one day just take this power and crush it in their hands? Relationships are a societal construct, forcing monogamy down your throats and telling you that if you aren’t in a committed relationship, you’re lonely.

You’re a single woman held down by no man, you can fuck whoever you want, and you like it that way.

But thinking of which, you realise you haven’t been fucking a lot of other people lately besides Taehyung. Or even anyone. The last guy must’ve been… That accountant from the bar with a foot fetish… Which was over two weeks ago.

A shudder courses up your back, the claws of that frightening thought digging up your spine.

‘Why don’t you booty call that waitress you were boning for a while?’ It’s a trick question, to see whether you’re also the only hole he’s been putting it in recently. Because if you are, then you two are falling dangerously close to monogamy, the greatest bane of your existence that you avoid like the plague.

‘Nah, ditched her weeks ago. She was too vanilla in bed, didn’t do me like you.’

Of course no one does him like you, and no one does you like him. That’s why you’re friends with benefits - because you know what each other likes the most. So why even bother trying to look elsewhere for sex when you can find it in the room next door?

But this is getting weird. Maybe you should call up that accountant again, hopefully he isn’t too offended that you ghosted him.

‘Why are you asking about her anyway? Are you jealous?’ That word strikes at you like an insult. Taehyung is wagging his brows annoyingly, toes jabbing at your ribs the way your brother used to do, so you flick his forehead harder than you normally would. Wincing, he clutches the sore spot like you threw a rock at him or something. Dramatic.

‘Of course not. I’m never jealous.’ You scoff. Y/N? Jealous? Come on, he’s making you laugh. ‘I was just curious, don’t flatter yourself.’

But it seems your response is a little too much what he wanted to get out of you as he continues to wind you up. ‘Aww, Y/N.’ He pulls you in by the waist and nestles his face in your hair. ‘You know you’re my favourite girl, right? Since day one, you’ve been there for me and I’ll never forget that. No one night stand or blonde waitress can ever replace you, okay?’ When he leans in to kiss your ear, you squirm away, groaning in disgust.

‘Taehyung!!!’ You yell out. ‘Being all wet and sappy will not get you laid right now. Stop it.’

‘Hey, I wasn’t even thinking about that anymore, but if you’re implying that there’s a possibility that I'll get laid right now…’ That irritatingly smug smirk is plastered on his face, and though it absolutely vexes you, it doesn’t fail to make you smile too.

It’s not that you don’t want to have sex with him because since when have you been the one to say no to Taehyung’s thick meatstick? It’s just that…

‘Well, I’m not really feeling it, I’m sorry. I’m getting a really bad period cramp, I’m due tomorrow.’

There’s a subtle warmth creeping beneath Taehyung’s cheeks at your openness to talk about your womanly cycle despite years of you doing so. He’s used to it by now, but even he’ll admit, he’s not the most mature of men his age. The image of blood flowing out of one of his favourite body parts on you is… not nice.

‘Oh.’ Now the unenthusiastic mood makes sense. ‘I’ll get you some ibuprofen from the pharmacy?’

Sidling next to you back to his previous position between your lap with his head reposed on your sternum, Taehyung feathers his fingertips on your arm the way he knows you love. Although it only lasts a couple of days, he knows you always get quite down during period, not eating much and curled up in your bed to nurse your uterus pains. As your roommate, he sees it as his duty lift your mood the best he can. He must remember to get you some ice cream later.

‘It’s ok, don’t worry. Medicine is for the weak, you know I never take painkillers.’ You grumble moodily but brush his hair back from his forehead, his head tilting up in wave of your motion so he can look at you.

‘You’re a mad woman, painkillers don’t make you weak.’ This stubborn steadfast trait of your personality drives him mad sometimes. Why can’t you just take the bloody painkillers so you won’t have to endure the cramps?

‘I’m not a pussy. No, thank you.’ You glare down at him with a challenging glint to your eyes. Taehyung gets the sudden urge to wrestle you and shove those stupid pills down your throat.

He won’t be able to convince you, that’s one thing for sure after living with you for two years.

Change of tactics then. ‘Do you want me to rub your tummy?’ The dance of his fingers on your skin does not cease, he feels you stiffen under his touch when it reaches your bicep.

‘Are you going to turn it into some sexy massage roleplay?’

‘Not a bad idea, actually…’ The suggestion shoots an excited flare to his groin, but then you knee him in the side. ‘Kidding! We’ll do that next time. Just let me ease those cramps.’

When you don’t protest, Taehyung turns to his side in your embrace and reaches his big palm under your shirt. Your skin, smooth as silk, allows his hand to glide as if on ice across the span of your torso. A sound almost like purring sounds from your throat, and he cannot resist looking up to see the efflorescence of content on your face.

As he kneads on your pained navel with the ball of his wrist, you shut your eyes and rest the plush of your cheek atop his head. Maybe it’s the giver in him but when you hum, ‘That feels so good,’ he can’t help preening in pride.

‘What can I say, I’m good with my hands.’ Your arm around his neck tightens into a headlock until he splutters an apology that he doesn’t really mean.

Taehyung tries not to let his mind wander to dirtier places when you groan at the comfort of his massage. It’s weird how you have this effect on him now, how a simple noise from your lips can coax his arousal just like that. He has always found you attractive before all of this, yet would never dare think of you in that way. And now? You two could be gaming at midnight together, but then a brush of your thigh the wrong way would be enough to set each other off, and you will be fucking for two hours straight. He has never felt this magnitude of sexual attraction to anyone in his life before, and the fact that you’re his roommate and closest friend just adds to the convenience.

‘Okay, but why do I feel your boner on my leg?’ There’s a hint of amusement in your voice. Maybe even delight, but he could be reaching.

‘Just ignore it, it’ll go away.’ Knowing you’re not in the mood for sex also puts him off, though the message takes a moment to get relayed to his dick. Taehyung continues to rub your cramping stomach as if his erection isn’t aching to be touched right now. He will deal with it later in the shower.

‘You’re being really sweet… Today one of your needy affectionate days, huh?’ When your lips brush against his forehead, a tingle he purposely ignores shoots to his cock.

‘What do you mean? I’m always like this.’ Taehyung glances up to catch you piercing him with appreciation in your stare.

And he’s suddenly overcome with an urge to kiss you. Except that would be weird because you don’t kiss each other unless it’s during sex.

Friends don’t kiss when the benefits aren’t being reaped.

It’s the hopeless romantic deep in his heart that’s goading him. As much as he likes to sleep around, fuck random bitches, it’s in his blood to have such boyfriend tendencies. He really can’t control it even when he doesn’t mean it.

So maybe he is being particularly needy and affectionate today…

He probably shouldn’t when it could send you the wrong message. It’s a dangerous game you play, this. And although he should trust you and shouldn’t doubt your aversion from developing any sort of feelings, the risk still remains dangling above your heads.

Who’s it going to fall on first?

No, it won’t fall.

Because you’re just friends who fuck. Where’s the complication in that?

At the end of the day, he cherishes your friendship above all else. After the betrayal of who he thought were his brothers, you were his fresh start, his new home. The way he’s latched onto you, that kind of bond… No sex is worth losing that.

You’re twirling his hair in your little finger, tugging the tufts as well as his attention ever so slightly. You have a particular fixation on his hair, Taehyung realises. You even went to the barber with him the other day to make sure they don’t fuck up his hair; you were so reluctant to even let him cut it, saying you liked it that long and messy.

Your personal handgrip when he’s eating you out.

Circles his palm is rubbing into your core falter when you begin to brush your lips over his forehead. The slow pecks you plant on his bangs voids his brain of thought.

‘Stop kissing my hair if you want my boner to go away.’ It’s a challenge not to grind his still painfully stiff cock into your thigh, that guy down there really has a mind of its own.

‘Seriously..? Me kissing the top of your head is making you hard?’ Disbelief ridden in your tone, Taehyung’s skin now feels barren when you remove your lips.

‘Hey, I don’t control these things! Plus I was horny to begin with…’ He flushes.

You should stop banging so often, really.

‘Wait also, have you been using my shampoo? Your hair smells like berries.’ You sniff at his scalp like a curious hound.

Taehyung looks up at you sheepishly.

.

09/09/2019

© Copyright 2019

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@shookpreme @taetaeobsessed @tangledsparkles @nonexistentfucks @evilkookie @nbiased95 @shimtatae @taehyungmakesmeoof @itscalledgayhoney @tahaing @deliciouslydisturbed365 @expensive-bangtan-girl @jwlmnbt @herakimkim @dnyad @kaepjjang365 @expensive-bangtan-girl @gingerpeachtae @taexxxiiaa @spring2787 @monixreal @askingtheimportantthingshere @icyi-sky

[fencesandfrogs]

an abridged history/explanation of warrior cats if you didn’t read them as a kid and have questions (a primer)

welcome. i’m going to keep things to the point, this is not a plot summary, just, well, its a pandemic and people are seeking items of childhood comfort and its come to my attention that a lot of people didn’t read these books as kids and then they come up in conversation and they act shocked so! i felt compelled to write this.

[2.5k words, 10min read. section headers, no pictures. not a ton of helpful formatting. i don’t want to say don’t read this because obviously i wrote it and think it’s worth reading, but i’ll be honest, this is a lot.]

section one: about me

i was an avid reader as a child, most of which fits solidly into “stories for another time,” and some of which would necessitate me adding tags onto this post that are, well, not necessary. so i will skip over that backstory but for those aware of lexile scores, i had one that was too high for literally any book that was appropriate to give me. so reading in school was torture and reading for fun was excellent.

now because i was a first-ish grader and my mom was trying to keep the fifth harry potter out of my hands, she looked desperately for something else to pass to me. her friend, who had a daughter a year or two older than me, was into these cat books, and my mom was like “here honey you like cats” without thinking too much about it.

which is good, because as i’ll get into, it was a really good fit for me. but like a dozen books later she asked me about the plot and well. i think at that moment she realized that it might have been better to just let me read harry potter.

but yeah i continued to read them long past the recommended reading ages and still as a Young Adult will return to them for nostalgia, and also as i will get into, some really good books. (see a list of books for “morbidly curious but i don’t want to spend 56 to 168 hours reading this”)

i’m not fully caught up on the series but this is not a plot summary so that should not impact my ability to discuss this

section two: content warnings

these books (not this post) includes the following:

discussion of castration (1.1 series 1, book 1, i’m not including this on every item/discussion because this is a complicated series but i want to demo how up front some of this is)

teenage romance/sex/pregnancy (1.1ish-1.3 or 4, continues throughout the series quite a lot, comes up again in 3.4/5, 4.4-5, and a bit in 5)

death from childbirth (1.can’t remember which book, many others)

unwanted pregnancy (se super edition, or a longer one off novel, discussed in 4&5)

sex/implied, discussed, and very very very heavily hinted but never directly said/shown (1.1-3ish, se, other)

murder (constantly, 1.1, 1.4, literally every book, 3.5, i’m just listing the ones i remember off the top of my head that were particularly graphic)

disability/illness, esp. the debilitating and/or deadly nature of it (1.3-5ish, 3.1, but all of 3, 3.4ish)

dementia (1.3-5, i’ve heard in some of the later series?)

abuse (7/8 this is reported i haven’t read these books but based on what i know it’s def there)

child abandonment (1.4-5, 3.4/5, it’s also all over the place but i think those are the only major character incidents of it)

treason (1.3-5, all over the place)

the horror/tragedy of war (background, but pretty constant)

disagreeing with an integral religion/tradition (3, based on the series title, 8, and generally scattered)

the corrupting influence of power (1.4/5, possibly 7/8, others)

racism (1, 3-5, possibly others)

sexism (se, background)

patriarchal societies (se, seems to be somewhat softened based on what i’ve heard but i’m not entirely sure about this)

and more! but it starts to get stranger and this is enough to prove my point

basically everything that could go wrong does

oh yeah! child abuse also child abuse that’s a very major theme in the first series as well as during other points. and elder abuse in the first series.

okay i’ve made my point.

section three: the appeal

look. so. i think we’re kind of pastel-ify children’s literature based on movies. see, parents have to watch children’s movies with their kids, so they can’t be gritty and intense because a lot of parents will say “not for my nine year old! they can’t deal with treason!” and that seems to be bleeding into children’s literature.

but warriors is not that. it’s intense, it borders on “too gruesome for children,” and it’s from a time where kids books got to be serious and heavy and dark because they were about animals. which was great because i couldn’t find books at my reading level that weren’t too thematically difficult, so i got to read something below my reading level, but thematically too hard, so it kind of balanced out.

and then well. so. the series grows with the audience, but the books don’t grow in terms of like difficulty so new readers start deep into it and it’s a complicated thing, the fandom history is complex, but.

the appeal is that parents don’t usually read the books their kids read and so they see a book about cats and assume it’s fluff, and kids who are starved of complex content get to read hamlet-for-kids.

section four: worldbuilding/lore

oh yeah also there’s some really deep lore to explore. so there’s two bits of appeal.

i’m not doing a full world/plot summary, but i’ll explain some common elements here.

thunder/shadow/wind/riverclan: harry potter houses for cats (gryffindor, slytherin, hufflepuff, ravenclaw, except this doesn’t work for the last two but that’s fine because no one cares about them despite riverclan being pretty important in most of the books)

-kit/-paw/-star: naming conventions. everyone has a two part name. (we’ll use cinder as an example because i like the two cinders we know, even tho neither of them get to be cinderstar.) babies are -kit (cinderkit), then when they’re apprentices, which is like being a student, you know, elementary through high school, you’re paw, so cinderpaw. then you get an Official Name from ur clan leader (cinderheart). if you become clan leader, you get to be -star (cinderstar). i know i haven’t explained clan leaders bear with me. this is kind of important because i have the names burned into my memory so i cannot simply always call firestar firestar if he was firepaw at the time of the events i’m describing. it won’t be ambiguous, cinderheart/cinderpelt are a special case. if this is tricky for you it’s fine just only read the first part of the name.

clan (leader, deputy, medicine cat, elder): roles with in the clan. leaders literally have nine lives. deputies are next in line and chosen by the leader. leaders usually go through several deputies, because deputies don’t have nine lives. medicine cats are doctors. they also have an apprentice. those are all one per clan. elders are just retired cats. they’re not a special category per say, but i wanted to mention them.

warrior: adult.

warrior code: laws.

star clan: dead cats. this ties into the religion which is pretty important to the books but for the most part if you understand that dead cats get to give guidance and send their approval, you have the gist of it.

section five: so um, what the fuck

so we start with a cat named rusty who runs into the woods to join thunderclan and then his name is firepaw and we all forget that he’s named rusty except for like that one time it comes up again. bluestar is a great leader with some corrupt deputies but fireheart eventually takes care of it and becomes clan leader which is a big deal.

then a bunch of other shit happens and suddenly ashfur is possessing brackenstar and being (more) abusive to squirrelflight (who is on the outs with brackenstar anyway for lying about their kits jayfeather, hollyleaf, and lionheart because they’re actually the children of firestar’s other daughter leafpool who had them with crowfeather after she fell in love with him but he’s from windclan and she’s a medicine cat so that’s double illegal and apparently hollyleaf is alive even though she yeeted herself into a pit and died because she killed ashfur when he threatened to reveal this but couldn’t live with being the product of an illegal meeting and then it was all pointless because leafpool stopped being a medicine cat out of guilt anyway and jayfeather is just an ornery bitch about everything but especially all of this)

i’m not explaining any of that.

section six: i repeat: so um, what the fuck

so the thing about these books is they’re soap operas and dramas about cats and that means they get just as strange and chaotic as anything else in the genre. i think a lot of people like me, who read them as children, regard the series we knew as a child (usually either the first three or the first five, plus super editions) as something good and warm and comforting (despite being dark and gruesome) because they made us feel good.

they were also a breeding ground for young fandom because of all the the drama that exists and the nature of the books providing that.

section seven: super editions

the simple answer to what a super edition is has already been given (it’s a novel length one-off about a single character, and its usually either a side character - bluestar, crowfeather - or a event/perspective we don’t get to see - firestar, skyclan, greystripe - and they’re generally more mature)

my favorite super edition is bluestar’s prophecy. i read it at like 16, slinking into the children’s library with a stack of other ya fiction and a “children’s book” which dealt with unwanted pregnancy, grief, forbidden love, and more. still not sure why that’s in the children’s section.

section eight: about the drama

so there’s been a lot of fandom drama about these books. i can’t tell you about the nuances, because i am an old fan, so i watched but didn’t partake. the highlights reel that i can recall goes as follows (please note i will refer to characters by name without explanation. it’s fine. the point of this section is to convey the pettiness of this drama):

tigerstar: did he do anything wrong? (the answer is holy shit yes, this isn’t discourse, it’s okay to like a villain)

scourge: did he do anything wrong, also what color is his collar? (also yes, doesn’t matter)

was the new prophecy (2)/omen of the stars (3)/etc good? (yes, eh, no, yes, no comment, no comment)

should jaypaw or hollypaw be medicine cat apprentice (neither of them, but jaypaw’s employment opportunities are limited because he’s blind, so its gotta b him)

uhh a massive tangle around this parentage drama between squirrelflight, leafpool, brackenfur, and crowfeather, which i used as the crux of humor for how batshit the plots can get, so i’m not even going to pretend i can make it funny, but just know that it’s batshit and the correct opinion is as follows: no one is right, but squirrelflight has done the least wrong, brackenfur is an asshole to her where it’s unwarrented, and hollyleaf is an idiot

and the current drama centers around brackenstar and ashfur and is tied directly to the point above, which is why i’ve kind of given up trying to make jokes about this because this is the culmination of like 35 novels.

section nine: i feel like i need to have some conclusive point to justify writing all of this

but i don’t have one, because this was really an excuse to ramble about an old passion for like half an hour. i mean i guess i can say, like, i think younger fans are sort of embroiled in this drama they don’t really have context for, because i’m not kidding, the current drama centers around the grandchildren of our original cast.

it’s kind of hard to know why, say, mistystar matters if you don’t know that she’s the child of bluefur and oakheart and if you don’t remember the drama that surrounded that when bluestar was dying and tigerstar and leopardstar were ruling a combined shadow/riverclan.

(i really hope that’s intelligible i tried to lay the groundwork for it. basically, there’s a biracial kid in a very segregated society who becomes the leader of one of the clans. which is obviously drama, especially considering that that clan was part of a weird supremacy movement a while back.)

& you know? i really hope one of the new series gets to be like, a soft reboot. just. end the current drama and pick up again with the latest generation. a) we’re starting to run out of names, and b) i think that it’s kind of tipped over the edge of sane.

the series also used to be very low fantasy. the cat societies are reasonably close to feral cat colonies (the biggest detail is that toms don’t all have their own territory, but there’s honestly in-universe discussion of this and it’s basically a culture thing), and while star clan/religion is a real and legitimate thing, there’s also a discussion of its abuse and most of the early books don’t really use star clan/related ideas as a physical force so much as a plot device, barring, like, when a new leader gets their nine lives.

honestly, i’ll always adore these books for serving the role they did, and a lot of the series is fantastically well written. but the fandom surrounding it can be, uh, not great because 9-14 year olds don’t really have good brains to understand this.

also, i’m very sad that i can’t find the flash game that was for the great prophecy. it was not very fun, but i enjoyed playing it, so if anyone knows the url so i can search the internet archive for it, please let me know.

section ten: i’m morbidly curious but there are 56 hours of books to read, assuming a very fast reading pace, so is there something i can start with to experience this without dedicating 4 days to it?

yes, there is.

it’s called bluestar’s prophecy. it’s standalone, and i should have given you enough of a background on the lore that you don’t need to know anything else. i’ve already given away the twist in series 1 that it would spoil, so you’re all good on that front.

if you want more, or want the original experience, the first series is self contained and quite good. i’ve given the broad outlines of the plot, but trust me, there’s a lot of surprises and all sorts of things i skipped over because while i like it, it’s not exactly fandom primer material

i also enjoy firestar’s quest and skyclan’s destiny for super editions, but you’ll need to read the first series to understand FQ and FQ to understand SD, so it’s not exactly a starting point. also, SD especially deals with a very different set of themes as the other books.

also, if you were to, say, search “readwarriorcats” (no spaces) on duckduckgo, and then click on one of the first links, you know, not the official site, the one hosted on one of those free website things, you know, not wix, not wordpress, the other one, you would only find lists of the books with hyperlinks.

;3

[millennial-star-gazer]

The Draconic Demon Within: Chapter 3

The Draconic Demon Within (Originally for Nalu Lovefest 2017 on previous celestialgeekmage accounts and Angst Week 2015 on Twishadowhunter/teamedwardjace2 in the past and Vera's April 2018 Prompt challenge on cosmicdragonwizard account )

Genres: Romance, Friendship/Family, Drama/Angst, Hurt/ Comfort, & New Adult Fanfiction

Vera's April 2018 Prompts: Soul, Empyrean, Savage, Memory, Trust, Fear, Unstoppable , Resilient, Supernatural (Implied) Lost (Implied) and Loathing.

Nalu Lovefest 2017 Prompts: Dreams

Nalu Week 2019 Prompts (Implied:) Lost, Curse, Trial, Treasure, Chance and possibly Bare.

Pairing: Nalu/EndLu,( Natsu x Lucy/ E.N.D. x Lucy)

Rating: M for language, steamy and mature adult sexual content (all consensual) in these and future chapters. Reader Direction is advised.(You have been warned!)

Summary: Now faced with the reality of who he is truly is, the son of Igneel must contend with the new darker instincts of his new demonic identity- all while navigating through his ever-growing, intense feelings for a particular celestial wizard. Originally a Submission (semi -au) for Nalu lovefest 2017 (on my previous celestialgeekmage account and now  one of my  entries for @nalu-week 2019 with chapter 3. (Also was on my earliest previous accounts of teamedwardjace/Twishadowhunter in the past. Also part of Vera's April 2018 prompt challenge from fic-writers appreciation on cosmicdragonwizard).

1/2 entries for @nalu-week 

Chapter 3: When A Star Dies

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A/N: Hey guys, it's your girl MillennialStarGazer back again! This time, it's with another installment of TDDW which is also happens one of my entries weeks for @nalu-week  2019. I was actually working on Chapter 3 along with those for my other fics (including WIPs) on my ipod . Took me some time to finish on account my other writing projects and responsibilities in my life— though I'm glad that this chapter's finally posted. This chapter's title was inspired by A Billion Stars Will Die Today from the incredible Nights Amore who's one of my favourite modern composers. (This evocative score and other tracks can be found here). Oh and major kudos to my friends/mutual's @bmarvels and @doginshoe for taking the time to be my betas whose positive feedback helped me to further develop and improve this chapter during its draft stage. Your help was invaluable—thanks so much ladies! Anyways, without further ado , here's chapter 3—enjoy!

(Note:   I’ve had to use  an alternative means of inserting divider/ page breaks by inserting pictures (or typing) in light of the original  tumblr  feature seemingly being removed by @staff .   Anyway, please be sure to  scroll down past cut for disclaimer,  corresponding links, legend and actual chapter content).

Disclaimer: Fairytail does not belong to me, but to the most honourable Hiro-sensei instead, for whom without this work of love wouldn't be possible.

Read Previous Chapters of TDDW and on platforms here:

(Copy and paste the links into another  window if need be)

A. Tumblr

Previous (Click Here:) (or here https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/179816334878/the-draconic-demon-withinreupload-from/amp): 

 Next (Click Here:) (or here: https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/614628807073251328/the-draconic-demon-within-chapter-4-a-demons)

B. Fanfiction (Click Here:) (or here:  https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13113898/1/The-Draconic-Demon-Within-Reupload-from-cosmicdragonwizardaccounts)

C. A03 (Click Here:) (or here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17365061/chapters/40861307))

2. Ongoing Master  Post Of All My Writing (Click Here:) (or here: https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/179665258923/master-fic-rec-post)

Legend:

Italic: Song Lyrics/Quotes (or flashback dialogue)

Bold: First Person Thoughts

Bolded Italics: Empathized, stylized Word(s) or bloodythirsty fantasies

Bolded Italics (Within and Outside Bracket) including for author's side notes also known as (A/N:) within brackets (though none for side-notes in this chapter ).

"The stars are not wanted now;

put out every one,

Pack up the moon and

dismantle the sun;

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;

For nothing now can ever come to any good."

(W.H. Auden: Funeral Blues)

Flashback

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"Lucyyyyy!"

Natsu's alarmed scream of Lucy's name rang out. Arms were catching his partner before she hit the ground. Just minutes before , the duo found themselves in the midst of a grueling stand off against two of Tartarus most notorious demons. Natsu versus Jackal ; Lucy versus Tempester who she battled with a valiant proficiency that her best friend or any other team would be immensely proud of;

"Whoosh and Whirl."

Only to be to no avail when a summoned whirlwind slammed into her light frame at the full force of a freight train before she could even blink.

"Lucy— can you hear me?"

"Please Luce— you gotta be okay! You.. can't... be gone... just can't be. If I Lose you...God! I can't... not again!"

Brittle words spilled from the lips of a tortured man rocking back and forth with a broken angel in his arms who never seemed so fragile.

My god... this pain... feels like everything is being blown apart! How viciously ironic those words proved to be. Natsu's entire world truly did seem to be crumbling around him.

"Lucy...open.. your eyes.." He gasped, frantic air being ripped from his lungs ." Let.. me know you're okay!... I'm .. begging ya'... just stay with ...me... Please?" The fire wizard's desolate voice broke on the last word. Gods above, what he wouldn't give to see or hear any vital signs of life from in motionless woman in his arms ; a single breath , a heartbeat or two, a twitch of fingers—anything! Honestly, he couldn't fathom how his life would have any meaning if his best friend's light was torn away from him.

Don't think I'd be able to go on.,,

It was then E.n.d realized his world would be so much darker without Lucy's guiding light— nothing more than a starless void. Not to mention, the indescribable , excruciating torment that would haunt their friends for years at a time if she didn't survive.

I couldn't stand to see them suffer like that. Luce has to survive — not just for my sake, but her own and the others… Please let her... what the hell?!

The unwelcome noise of steady, advancing footsteps broke through Natsu's reverie ; whose head whipped towards Jackal with a baleful growl.

"No— get away!"

"Ooh look at you barring your fangs at us like that!" Jackal was still sauntering towards the other wizards at a measured pace.

"Stay back!" The menacing snarl salamander slayer let loose in warning was positively bestial. Not to mention, his arms were automatically tightening around Lucy— sheer natural protective instinct. "Don't ya' dare come any closer!"

That bastard better leave us alone...

Good God how his fingers were just itching to char that infuriating , cocky smirk off the other demon's pathetic face.

But doing that would mean letting go out of Lucy and leaving her unprotected out in the open— not happening .

"Well aren't you quite the big,  scary, menacing, demon''. came Jackal's answering taunt, eyes flashing in sinister amusement.

" I said stay back..."

"Yeah, I don't think so," said Tartaros underling let out a taunting cackle of glee; which only served to boil the blood in Natsu's veins.

"Urghh–leave us alone or I'll literally burn the both of ya' to a pile of ashes for what you did to Lucy! "

Can't help but seriously want to tear them limb from limb right now...

Spasms racked the hybrid's sinewy frame at the same time as visceral images were flooding his brain from rising bloodlust.

Shredded remnants of flesh hanging from what was left of Jackal and Tempster's throat, a flash of extending talons.; spurting blood , hands instinctively pressing against punctured jugulars in frantic vain, agonized noises of agonized gurgling that were savagely pleasing to the ear. All for daring to lay a hand on the woman most precious—

Enough! God.. What the hell is wrong with me? And all these unexpected and strange, bloodthirsty instincts .. where are they coming from?! I mean sure I've been enraged enough to want avenge or thrash those who harmed my friends! But never the urge to kill —save for Jellal... and even that wasn't as graphic!

"Lost in thought?"

Jackal's taunting voice cut through E.n.d.'s reverie.

" Bastard— just leave us alone already!" His response was an incensed roar that was raising several octaves. "Why's that's so hard for ya' to get through your thick skull? As for my best friend— you'd better hope her heart's still beating or swear to God, I'll —”

"Jesus ...” The other demon muttered, his otherwise airy words laced with mild exasperation.

"Why are you so hung up over this celestial wizard of yours? Seriously dude... ya' might be one of the most powerful demons ever created— but you're kind of harshin' my vibe . Just chill.."

Scumbag… I'm either gonna save Lucy or avenge her...

"Look---no need to seem like you wanna rip our heads off, okay? Your woman's gonna be just fine. She's not dead— only unconscious. Hell, she's even got a pulse . Check for yourself if you don't believe me."

" Go to hell!" Natsu spat, words dripping with lethal venom." I don't take orders from sadistic psychopaths! And you'd honestly better not be lying!"

"I'm not. Just check, would ya'?"

Not trusting Jackal's claim , the fire demon lowered his head to press an ear against Lucy's chest; just for shock to shoot through his veins when what could only be the most precious noise in the entire universe could be heard — the steady beat of her heart!

Lucy's really okay?

Fic Tag Squad: @fuck-yeah-nalu @fortheloveofnaluevents @nalubookclub @nalu-week

@petri808 @magnolia726 @ccrispy

@yukimcffblog @i-write-fanfics-to-procrastinate   @writer-appreciation  @caandleworks @caandlle  @rougeminded @rougescribe @cobblepottantrum @lovelyluce @dark0angel13  @sovay-says

@soprana-snap @phoenix-before-the-flame @phoneboxfairy @bearpluscat @narutoyaoifan

@mautrino @goddesofimortality @nalufever  @thecelestialchick @nalu-natic @bearandbirdfan @pyroandtheprincess @mautrino @lucielhyung @smappybubbles @seehunnybees @lover-of-the-light117 

@rayhneatess  @nothingbutwordsstuff     @shootingstarssel @chamilsanya  @acidrain1698  @chamilsanya   @narutoyaoifan @superfreakerz  @nalu-natic @thecelestialchick @nalufever @moeruhoshi @h-eartfilias @lemonade-of-gods @fairywithajetblackheart  @katana-no-neko @mercurius-orion @nunnatheinsanegerbil @bearpluscat @shootingstarssel @kayty-of-fiore @narutoyaoifan @kaycha1989 @chiire @pyroandtheprincess @lovelyluce @sovay-says @satyrykal @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @phoneboxfairy @phoenix-before-the-flame @yukimcffblog @precenna @sugarpolis @fairywithajetblackheart @mercurius-orion @dark0angel13 @h-eartfilias @hungrypeanut  @shootingstarssel @sovay-says @satyrykal  @narutoyaoifan  @moeruhoshi @doginshoe @bmarvels

A/N: There you have it- chapter 3 folks! Fun fact about the title of this chapter: As you're aware, the title was inspired by previously mentioned score of the same name; Not to mention, how aptly-named this installment is if the events of this chapter, Lucy's type of magic and 's mindset are anything to go by. Not only is Lucy a celestial wizard, but she also happens to one of the precious lights or stars in Natsu/E.n.d.'s universe which he couldn't bear to lose if it were to be blotted out (from a metaphorical sense of course). Nor would he ever wish for his friends to suffer that kind of pain (as seen in the original anime/manga and sequel) . Hence why one of our favourite demons was so distraught when he truly believed Lucy to be possibly dead. Anyways, just thought I would provide a little more insight for those who were wondering.

All right, that's all for now. as always, don't forget to let me know what you think, like, reblog and share! Oh and be sure to stay tuned for the next chapter which will up ASAP once there's a chance for the writing process to start . Feel free to check out the rest of my writing as well! (Corresponding links are above, in the navigation bar and bio if reading this on tumblr. See other writing platforms for links as well! ) All right, that's it for now! Until next time— take care!

[i4z-0892-il]

Eggshells 12

Author: Jena @i4z-0892-il

Summary: AU Serial Killers Sam and Dean Winchester find themselves in a bind when the Reader gets caught in the cross-hairs of their plans.

Pairing: Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader

Word count: 5647

Warnings: dark!fic, NSFW, 18+, Very graphic descriptions of violence, mature themes, death, mentions of death, torture abuse, language, assault

A/N: Shit’s long, not sorry.

Unbeta’d typos are all the fault of dyslexic brain.

Inspired by my girl @alphvjensen’s incredible story Sex and Violence

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13

If you like my work consider buying me a Coffee, or leave me some Feedback!

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Masterlist

It was near impossible to tear your sight from Dean’s snoozing figure; draped clumsily, and almost uncomfortably over the bed next to yours. His face from your dream flashing in your mind, the twisted grin and piercing eyes sending a chilling shudder all the way down your spine. Coming to a conclusion about the meaning of your dream was easy, but it was difficult to convince yourself to heed the very obvious warning. Looking at him from where you sat he seemed so peaceful, and decent. Looking at him without context you might have seen him on the streets and been smitten, perfect pouting lips, the light dusting of freckles over his nose, a jawline for days, he was just beautiful. But that wasn’t really him. Maybe it was once upon a time, maybe he was just another handsome face in the crowd, maybe he was once as good as his pretty face would lead one to believe. In truth you knew of the raging inferno that boiled beneath the surface, the demon trapped inside begging to be fed with blood. He’d had multiple chances to exact that blood from your veins and even though he’d failed to collect, you weren’t so sure he wouldn’t change his mind. You had seen behind the mask, and it would haunt you forever. He was a monster wearing the face of an angel. Even still there was a bit of sweetness left in him, you weren’t sure how you’d managed to capture a glimpse of it, but it was there. Just a hint of kindness, a flicker of concern. It wasn’t enough though. It would never been enough to wipe away the destruction he’d brought to your life. But damn if it wasn’t tempting to try, damn if he didn’t make you feel powerful alive. Dean was a dangerous and addicting high that a dark part of you was willing to chase.

It was hard to tell how long you were awake after that, your eyes bleary and closing against your will, struggling to keep conscious not wanting to drown again. But sleep came and took you anyway, leaving you curled around Sam’s arm radiating warmth, his fingers entwined with yours hoping that if you held on through your sleep he’d be there to pull you to safety this time.

He’d made the mistake of not drinking himself to sleep. Without that numbing agent there his own dreams were plagued with their faces. Lisa’s beautiful smile, and disheveled dark hair in the golden light of the early morning, and the sweetness of her kisses. She was soft and kind and warm, and he would sink into her every night with ease where he would lose himself in the ecstacy ravaged way she’d scream his name as she came undone beneath him. It was too much, it filled his head to the brim. It wasn’t always her in those intimate moments. Sometimes it was the three of them, out for dinner, strolling through the park. Sometimes it was just Ben; teaching him his way around an engine, how to talk to girls, how to throw a punch. It was the moments that truly felt like family, the moments where he truly felt love. They had been the best moments of his life, and now they were they were the worst, most painful memories he could think of. As long as he was drinking, as long as he clouded his mind with some brain-numbing substance or illicit distracting act, then he could function. But every time he was alone, every time he was sober, every time he had a moment of pause in the chaos of his life the gates flooded and they came through like a hurricane does a house of cards.

Tonight was different however, it wasn’t Lisa’s nails dragging long red welts down his back, it wasn’t her teeth sinking into his shoulder while he fucked her. It was your ragged moans filling his senses, your sex he was pumping fervently into. It was your throat his fingers wrapped around squeezing tighter, and tighter, unable to decide if he would let go and allow you to breathe or if he’d strangle and fuck the life out of you. Your eyes were locked onto his in a mix of pain and pleasure with a gaze so intense and intimate, and begging for more, it drove him to madness. Perfectly soft, and delicious lips parted as you gasped for air, his name lingering on the tip of your pink tongue. He couldn’t stop, you felt fucking amazing quivering around him, and his hands felt too good locked around your neck. Your fingers clawed down his arms, body writhing and pulsing with each sharp jolt of his hips until your climax left you coming apart at the seams as your lips turned shades of blue and purple. Under the unrelenting pressure of his grip those eyes of yours finally broke away from him only to turn up to the ceiling lifeless and glassy as your body went limp. Arms and hands falling away to gracefully frame your face morbid and beautiful and unmoving. Paralyzed in a state of euphoria and suffering. Suddenly it’s not what he wanted anymore. Suddenly he wanted to your eyes on him again, judging and condemning, and he found himself violently shaking you by the shoulders attempting to breathe life back into your empty body. But you wouldn’t breathe, resistance wouldn’t return to your loose muscles, the drumming in your chest had gone silent. Gathering you in his arms he pressed his face into the crook of your neck, the warmth of you slipping away too quickly. When he pulled away to whisper his sorry’s in your ear he smelled the distinctive scent of iron. The scent and feel of slick startled him, dropping you on the bed he backed away in a panic. Your blood coated his hands and seeped into the white cotton below your head stemming from an unseen wound, pooling around you and sinking your body into it’s wetness, filling the room swallowing you in it. His chest heaved as a thick fog of shadow rolled in around the edges carrying with it the echo of strangled voices both pleading for mercy and threatening, and he was frightened for the first time in a very long time. But it was when your hand, cold and dead, wrapped fingers around his wrist like a vice and dragged him under that shook his bones in horror.

Dean woke up with a start, sitting straight up, out of breath and disoriented, taking a moment to figure out where he was  he promised himself that he’d never sleep sober again. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and rubbing his eyes as he stood. He leaned over your bed, crawling to you needing to check on you, to make sure he hadn’t accidentally murdered you in his sleep. When his eyes adjusted his face darkened when he saw you, fingers laced with his brothers. And your pretty lips, the same ones with his name on them in his head, pressed against the back of Sam’s hand contented and curled into a soft smile at the corners made his blood boil. Jealous was something he’d never considered himself, he’d never felt it with Lisa, knowing exactly where he sat in her heart. But this was different, he was different. Stepping over to Sam’s form he gave his boot a solid kick, abruptly jerking him, with a gasp, from his sleep. Wordless Dean stalked out the door, his jaw set tight. Sam shook his head to get the sleep out and followed Dean out the door. Leaning up against the door of the Impala with arms crossed over his chest Dean waited for Sam to shut the door behind him before starting in.

“So that’s what this was about?” Dean questioned but he wasn’t really asking, he’d already come to a conclusion about what he just saw and he didn’t like to share. Tilting his head to the side, his face screwing up in confusion Sam was almost afraid to ask for an explanation and still too tired to connect the dots.

“What are you talking about?”

“You and Y/n? You in love with her or something?”

“Dean...”

“What, Sam? Are you? I saw you in there holding her hand like she means something to you.” He accused, as if you were also meaningless to him.

“She does.” Sam admitted, you’d meant something to him for a long time, and Dean was the only thing standing in the way of it. Forgiving Dean for everything he’d done to ruin Sam’s life was no easy task, and it came with a fair share of resentment. Sam wasn’t allowed to live the normal life he’d wanted, he wasn’t allowed to be happy or have something healthy, not when Dean was so sick. It was easier to rationalize when Lisa and Ben had passed, easier to forgive the destruction that came with their deaths in their wake. But time continues and the world keeps spinning, people move on, but Dean couldn’t let go. And he wouldn’t let Sam carry on either. Of course he complied- it was his brother after all, the only family they had remaining in the world, but Sam had been pushed to his ends. There was no more justifying it, there was no more room for Dean’s grief to come before his own happiness. And after last night there was a flicker of hope that he might still be able to have something for just him, maybe he didn’t have to be a monster, maybe there was still a chance that there was goodness left in him.

His answer left Dean taken aback, with that ugly jealousy brewing in his gut, and it disgusted him. The whole situation disgusted him, it was always black and white. He found someone to take his anger out on, they stopped existing, and he moved on till the next time, and he didn’t think about it. Not time to rethink, or consider other approaches, no chance to give a fuck. And that was how he liked it. Pure instinct. Now there were shades for gray bleeding through. Every time he closed his eyes your face flashed in his mind more often than he would have liked, and your words barreled through his mind like a train. It made him feel again, and he despised it. But he wasn’t willing to just let Sam move in either. Had it been anyone else it would have been easy to ignore, but this was his brother, and this was you.

“Right, of course. And what- you figured you were just going to play hero, swoop in and whisk the damsel in distress somewhere safe so you can live happily ever after?” Dean snarked, and when his answer only came in the form of a frustrated head shake he continued. “Was all that supposed to happen before or after you throw your own brother under the bus?”

“It’s not like that.” Sam stated, it wasn’t fair of Dean to have dragged him into his escapades in the first place, and for him to throw it back in his face, it wasn’t right. Dean’s temper was flaring and Sam knew there was little he could do at that point to calm him, but he also knew that Dean wasn’t one to just drop something either, and he was through keeping the peace for Dean’s sake.

���Then what’s it like Sam? What was your plan?” Dean demanded. Sam didn’t  answer. “Y’know I distinctly remember you saying it was time we paid our dues, right before you ran away. So tell me the fucking truth.”

“I was gonna put her on a plane, drive her somewhere. I offered to take her to the Police, whatever she wanted.”

“Oh well aren’t you a bleeding fucking heart all of a sudden. You save the girl, and you run away, and you live some normal apple-pie life, pretend like none of this ever happened. You really think she’d go for that? For you? You’re a monster Sam, a freak. Just like me. And I may have pushed her to spill blood first, but you’re the one who suggested we take her in the first place. You tell me which is worse, the man that fires a gun, or the one handing it to him loaded, knowing he’d pull the trigger.”

“I couldn’t just let you torture her! I couldn’t stand around and watch you take out your pound of flesh from an innocent girl. You’re sick Dean! What you did was cruel, it was heartless, even for us- even for you. How many more people have to suffer? How many more victims before you’re satisfied?” Sam rationalized through grit teeth, the only reason he was on the line was because of Dean. Because Dean knew he could call for help and Sam would come running. Because that’s who he was. Because they were family, and there was no one more important than family. But now he felt taken advantage of, now he felt his kindness and willingness to be there for Dean was being abused. He wasn’t willing to stand by and watch the death toll grow around him anymore.

“As many as it takes.”

“As many as it takes for what? Lisa and Ben are dead, and no amount of blood you spill is going to bring them back.” Sam chastised, the mention of their names sent him reeling. Dean snapped, connecting his fist to Sam’s jaw with a dull crack, knocking him off balance and sending him clumsily into his Charger parked behind him, splitting his lip.

“Don’t you ever fucking talk about them.” Dean spat, eyes narrowed with threat and promise. No one was allowed to mention them. Sam returned to his height bringing the back of his hand to his mouth wiping away a thin trail of blood, before shaking hair from his face and trying to refocus. Raising his arms in the air at his sides he gave Dean a free target.

“You can hit me all you want, it’s not gonna change anything. You’re losing it man. They’re gone and it hurts so bad you don’t know how to move on.”

“I said don’t fucking talk about them!” Dean yelled, grabbing his brother by the collar and whipping his fist across his face again.

Smack!

And again.

Smack!

And again.

Smack!

Sam didn’t struggle, didn’t fight back, it wouldn’t have done any good. Anger was the only thing Dean understood since they died, it was the only language he spoke. And the beating was the least Sam deserved, after everything he’d done to you, after everything he’d done to help Dean cover his tracks. He deserved far worse, they both deserved the electric chair, and a lifetime in prison. They were a danger to society. This had gone on unchallenged long enough, too long.

“They’re dead Dean, and you’re turning into the thing that killed them.” Sam muttered exhausted, head swimming with eyes half-lidded but unafraid. Rearing back his fist intending to strike again Dean stopped his eyes fixated on Sam’s face who was willing to take any number of punches he wanted to throw at him. The fact that he refused to fight him back, that Sam was willing to just let him take his anger out on him did nothing but piss him off further, slipping deeper into that maddening rage that seeped every aspect of his mind and body. Rage was all he knew anymore, it was the only thing that made sense anymore. Dean shoved him backwards against the car where he hit hard, forcing the air from his lungs and slumped to the gravel below.

Leaving him there Dean walked around the Impala and climbed into the driver's seat slamming the door as he did. Firing his Baby up she came to life with a thundering rumble and he tore out of the parking lot, her tires squealing sharply over blacktop once he hit the paved road. There wasn’t a specific destination in mind, somewhere with liquor. Somewhere with enough liquor to drown them out, or drink himself to death- whichever came first.

There was no dealing with their deaths, how could he when it was his fault they were dead? If he’d just been stronger, or faster maybe. If he’d gotten home ten minutes sooner. He should have known, he should have tried harder, fought more. He could have saved them, and he failed. He was left trying to figure out how to carry on when he got to live and they didn’t. It had been years and he still couldn’t figure it out, he couldn’t end it himself, not yet. There was still unfinished business he had to attend to. The problem was he couldn’t hunt the fucker down. Gordon was as elusive as he was evil, and his murder spree hadn’t shown any signs of slowing down. There was no telling how high his body count was at that point, the only ones that could really be pinned on him were Ben and Lisa, all of the other women that had gone missing or been found dead across the state were nothing more that speculation. But Dean knew when they flashed across the screen.

‘Local Woman missing from home following break-in.’

‘Sixth Woman to go missing in two months.’

‘Body of missing Local Woman found.’

‘Human remains found, thought to be body of Missing Woman’

By his estimate Gordon had at least fifty kills under his belt in the last two years alone. His pattern was sporadic and ever changing, the only thing remaining the same were that all of his victims were young, attractive women who were at the wrong place at the wrong time. Much like you.

Sam was right, he was turning into the thing he hated most. He was turning into the Thing that lurks in the shadows and steals life, the monster in the dark. He didn’t even know how it happened, it just did, the natural progression of events. Before long it had become habit, addiction, commonplace. Not once had he stopped to wonder why, or take a moment to notice how far off the bandwagon he’d fallen. He was like poison now, infecting and killing everything around him, and he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop because he liked it. There was a morbid safety in the dark. After living there for so long it becomes a sanctuary of sorts. There was no further he could fall because he was already at rock bottom. No one’s heart to break because they were already all broken. There was no one left to disappoint, and no one to make him feel worse, because he was already buried in it.

He was untouchable because he was so full up on his own brand of self inflicted torment that no one would hurt him more than he’d already hurt himself. And when one doesn’t have hope they can’t be let down. At least that’s what he thought. But then there was you. You who had the same vibrant defiance and unwavering stubbornness as his Lisa. You who was supposed to be just another speed bump in the road.

The look on your face when he’d forced you into your first kill, that broken and shocked look had remained with him burned forever in his memory and if he thought about it long enough it would be one of his biggest regrets.

“And I blame you.” You’d said, your voice strong willed but quite, no edge of anger, or hatred. If anything your words were tinged with a sort of defeat, maybe it was acceptance; either way hearing them pass your perfect lips struck him in his soul in a way he didn’t think was possible anymore. And it infuriated him beyond fucking measure. Still there was a small flicker of something, there was no denying the wash of relief on your face when you’d seen him in the woods, and how his heart nearly leapt out of his chest because of it.

Dean smacked his palm against the steering wheel and let out a frustrated sigh realizing he’d left you back at the hotel, with Sam. Which was the exact opposite of what he wanted. Sam just pissed him the fuck off, bringing up Ben and Lisa set him off like nothing else and Sam knew that. Once their names were dropped that was it, all he saw was red, and the only thing he could do was leave so he didn’t murder his little brother in broad daylight in a parking lot. But the last thing he wanted was to give you and Sam an opportunity to get closer, at least until he could figure out how he felt about you. And now he might as well have dropped you right in Sam’s lap, what would you think of him now? You wouldn’t understand why he’d just beaten his brother senseless, how could you? And it wouldn’t matter if you did, you were a logical sort of person, he knew that. He knew this just made him look worse in your eyes, as if he could stoop lower. That pit in his stomach grew beginning to consume too much of his being. There wasn’t enough liquor in the world to fill it, to numb it, to change anything.

He had to go back, if he could just try to be a normal fucking human again, if he could just try to connect with you… He didn’t know what he was expecting. Didn’t know what he wanted from you. He didn’t want to scare you away, let alone into the arms of his brother. Maybe he could explain, just try to talk to you. The idea didn’t sit right with him, it made him more uncomfortable than anything he could think of. But if he was going to try to keep you around he needed to give you a reason to stay, and so far he’d given you nothing but reasons to run far, far away.

The distinct sound of Dean’s car ripped you from a near comatose slumber, eyes snapping open noticing the absence of both of them immediately. Slipping out of the bed you stepped cautiously to the window, not sure if you wanted to know what you’d find. Surely they wouldn’t just leave you there, dump you off at some random motel and jump ship? Sam wouldn’t do that to you, and you had a feeling that if Dean drove so long to hunt you down he wouldn’t either. Pulling back the curtain you peered out the window to find that beautiful black Impala missing, but Sam’s Charger still parked. Eyes went wide noticing a pair of long legs sprawled out over the gravel parking lot.

Without hesitation you tore the door to the room open and ran to Sam’s side, gathering his face in your hands, bloody and bruised. Jaw locking tight you smoothed disheveled strands of chestnut out of his face to get a better look. Split lip, and long ripped gash along his cheekbone already starting to discolor. It didn’t take but split seconds for you to figure out who did it, what you couldn’t figure was why. Dean had his shot last night to be pissed, to retaliate, why now? What you did know was that it was early, and bright, and Sam laying in a pulverized heap on the ground was not the attention they were going to want to attract.

“Okay Sasquatch, we gotta get you back inside, and I can’t carry you. You’re gonna have to help me out.” You said, understanding hazel eyes turned up at you as you knotted your fingers in the collar of his plaid shirt struggling to bring his massive form to his feet, which took more effort than you’d have liked. He helped as much as he could but he looked like he’d gone twelve rounds with a block of cement. With a groan he slung a heavy arm across your shoulders putting a little more weight on your side than you’d have been comfortable with but you were determined to drag him back to the room.

Once inside you kicked the door closed with your foot and dropped Sam back into the chair by the window. Sucking in a breath, filling your lungs, you let out of with a worn-out sigh. You had always been on the strong side, it’s not like you had been a power-lifter or anything, you’d just always been strong and capable for your size. But that was a workout. It was only about fifteen feet, but it felt like you’d just run a mile.

“Fuck, you are heavy!” You groaned. “You’re so thin! Why are you so heavy?”

Sam responded with a lazy smirk, but grateful for your help nonetheless. The answer was the miles of rolling and rippling suntanned muscle hidden under his shirt. It didn’t help that he was basically a full foot taller than you which made all of that weight throw off your balance.

The little first aid kit was still sitting open on the table, and you slipped into the bathroom to grab and wet a washcloth and flicked on the lights so you could see what you were doing. You stood between his thighs dabbing at the tender and broke skin on his face gently, pausing each time you saw his eyes flinch.

“Sorry…” You offered empathetic, he just shook his head.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about me.”

The thing that perhaps was perplexing you the most was the fact that you’d bludgeoned a man to death last night and couldn’t give two flying fucks less, but seeing Sam in slight discomfort made your stomach churn and your heart hurt.

This is stupid. On a long list of stupid things in your life. This is hands-down the stupidest of things. You chastised yourself. You’re catching feelings for a fucking psychopath.

It’s not as if you could have helped it. People can’t necessarily choose who they develop feelings for. If that were a thing then you’d have stayed with Matt Lowery, he was handsome, and nice, and safe, and so boring he made you want to blow your brains out all over his dumb cream coloured carpet. He was the kind of guy you bring home to meet your parents, the kind of guy who would have bent over backwards to make you happy. But no matter how hard he’d try, he’d always fall short, always missing a certain component that you needed desperately. Most importantly of all, you were not in love with him. You nothing’d him. It wasn’t that you didn’t try, you did, you really did. You wanted to love his soulful brown eyes. You wanted to love that he was a good person. You wanted to want him. But he didn’t make your heart leap out of your chest, or put that flutter in your stomach like you did him. You couldn’t see spending the rest of your life with him, hell you couldn’t see spending a full day with him. You never missed him when he was gone. Your body didn’t react to his touch like it should have, he always left you unsatisfied, and desiring more. There was a hunger in the pit of you that needed more, more than he could give you. You’d hoped you’d grow to love him, but it never happened. And when his laugh turned to nails on a chalkboard in your head, and seeing him became a chore it was time to go.  When you broke it off you knew you broke his heart, but you felt so free that you didn’t care. Maybe you were cruel for leaving, maybe you were crueler for staying and wasting his time. But once he was gone you didn’t think about him anymore, it was like the two years you were with him held no weight, and he didn’t exist. You hadn’t even thought about him till now.  If you were smarter you might have stayed, if you could choose who you wanted you might have stayed.

But that isn’t how it works. The heart wants what the heart wants. And now you were looking at Sam marveling the sharp, angular lines of his face, the dimples carved in his cheeks, the pink softness of his lips, and how long and lovely his eyelashes were. And he was looking at you with those eyes like a kaleidoscope of color, steel blue and green, and golden honey, with a deep seated sweetness in them. He was watching you so intently you were finding it hard to focus, like he could bore a hole straight through your head and peer directly into your very soul. Heat crept into your cheeks forcing you to look away embarrassed and a bit ashamed by the filthy thoughts flitting through your head. Clearing your throat you decided you needed a topic change, the feel of powerful thighs on either side of yours a bit too distracting.

“So you wanna tell me what happened.”

“Dean.”

“Yeah, I figured that much, but why?”

“He’s upset that we ran. And I pushed too far about Ben and Lisa.” Sam lamented. He’d deserved to be hit for that, not one of his proudest moments.

“Ben and Lisa? His wife and kid?” Up till then they could have just been a made up sob story Sam just concocted to make you feel sympathy for his brother. They had names, and that made a difference for you, it made them seem somehow more real. But the way Sam said their names sounded more like curse word than anything else.

“Yeah, I shouldn’t have brought them up.” The shameful guilt written on his face broke your heart. It baffled you at the same time that someone with so much empathy and compassion could follow such a heartless path. You wondered if he could stand to look at himself in the mirror, or if he slept much at night. Then again, that was something you were trying to get a wrangle on yourself. There was no simple answer, and nothing left to say.

There was no rubbing alcohol in the first aid kit, but you had found half a bottle of whiskey, and it was going to have to make due. His eyes squeezed shut, and he let out a small sharp hiss through his teeth at the burn of alcohol seeping into open and raw skin. Strong hands gripped your thighs so abruptly he nearly threw you off balance. All bets were off after that, there was no ignoring the warmth seeping through your jeans from his large hands that didn’t move away after dropping the whiskey soaked cotton ball on the table. Feather-light fingertips slipped along the length of his jawline, tilting his head up to see what else you could do for him, but you weren’t nurse and didn’t have the ability to heal with a touch. He was just going to have to deal with some bruising for a while.

“I think your prognosis is good. You’re going to live.” You said, as Sam’s hands inched ever so slowly up your thighs, his dimpled smile flushing your face and core with heat.

“Oh, is that your professional medical opinion?” He asked turning soulful hazel eyes up to catch yours, intense and burning with a hunger. Tracing your thumb over his lower lip soft, and pink and inviting you simply nodded as answer, pulling your own lip between your teeth transfixed and acutely aware of the agonizingly slow travel of his hands up your thighs. Sam’s grip came to rest at the bones in your hip, his thumbs slipping under the hem of your t-shirt and sliding rough against the smooth skin beneath it and just above the rise of your jeans sending tiny sparks of electricity straight to your center. Swallowing down your apprehension you slipped fingers into the soft locks of chestnut hair that curled around his collar.

This was wrong, and you knew it, and it made it all the more exhilarating. Large hands slipped higher under your shirt, long graceful fingers digging into the soft skin over your ribs, lips parted seeking permission but expectant. That nervous want coursed through your veins making it harder to breathe properly, making your body vibrate in anticipation, waiting for you to make a decision. Another choice that had the potential to change your future. 

You can’t sleep with your kidnapper.

You’d made stupid choice after stupid choice so far and looking into his eyes like a kaleidoscope of color it was difficult to keep your wits about you. When he pulled you in ever so slightly, enough to feel the heat radiate off of him like a furnace, and the flex of the muscle in his chest firm and taut, and flush against your stomach, it was all over. The scent of him filled your senses, and all you could feel was his electricity moving over bare skin raising goosebumps over your ribs and up your back lingering in the wake of his touch. You met his lips with yours crushing and hungry, his hands wrapping around the back of your thighs pulling you into straddle his lap, wasting no time once you were there to knot his fingers firmly in your hair. The feel of his arms wrapped so tightly around you, and his teeth sinking into that sensitive spot on your neck just below your ear was euphoric and distracting.

You never heard the sound of that distinct telltale engine pulling back into the parking lot.

Tags: @roseangel013bf, @sanityoverrated27, @nibeca, @deanlenaotp, @deanandsamsbitch, @classyjellyfishpoetry, @sarahbearccxc, @smiling-meerkat, @goldenangelbloodcastiel, @pearlparty, @aquabrie, @notnaturalanahi, @mogaruke, @deansbitch1967, @ladylustitia, @supernatastic101art, @starhdust @ellen-reincarnated1967, @wedontapologize, @butiaintgonnaloveem, @deansbitch1967, @deanandsamsbitch, @green-eyed-hunters, @butiaintgonnaloveem, @ellen-reincarnated1967, @mogaruke, @alexwinchester23, @bunnybaby121115 @afanofmanystuffs @hobby27 @heyitscam99

[aokane-eldarya]

Hello :-) hope you're doing well . Just wanted to know what do you think about eldarya and mclul writing .

Hi anon :D

Thanks for you concern, I’m doing well enough (although my cat woke me at 4:30 am and did not let me go back to sleep and she pee on the dirty laundry…)

Sorry to answer you only now, I needed the time to think (and finish my opinion about Leiftan spin off). It might be a bit long lol

So, generally, for both games, I would say that, considering the conditions in which the episodes are made, the writers are doing well ; it could clearly be worse.

Chino has three games to manage and it’s just amazing that she manages to deal with so many stories at the same time and in record time. When you work in a professional way, it can become exhausting quickly, you have to think about everything, keep in mind each of your stories, the characters and background of each of your characters…

Not to mention the technical aspect and management of each team and each person who work on your projects.

My main problem with MCLU and Eldarya comes from the means that are given to the teams.

I really feel they do not have enough time to go deeper, to do more research. Normally, when you write, it is best to let your text rest, not to touch it for a while. (personally, when it comes to my novels, I do not touch for a month after finishing the first draft) 

Then you read it again with a new look, you correct, you rewrite. Then you confide it to several beta readers (I usually give them one month delay for a novel) and then you read it again, you help yourself with the advice of beta readers to eventually correct the content, then the form and the style.

For an otome, you must also think of all the graphic aspect, the appearance of the illustrations.

The creation here seems to depend on a calendar and the availability of the translators, whereas it should be the opposite. I’m not saying that they have to take all the time they want, but that the time should be calculated more accurately.

For MCLU :

- My first problem is the presence of Hyun and Rayan. Now, I understand better for Hyun who seems to me to be a bit extreme in his feelings and who is hasty in my opinion (it reminds me of one of my ex who thought I was the woman of his life when we were a couple for only a few days ), so, it’s ok. For Rayan, I really love him, I think he’s really interesting, he’s definitively my crush, but I don’t understand why some passages have been put in place even when you have a low LoM. You can not use the argument that it’s her soulmate, like Leiftan. And it’s quite paradoxical, because for certain passages, our choices are perfectly taken into account and we are not confronted with certain scenes.

- I also have a problem with Priya, who does not have the same place, it seems to me, as the other crushes. We still have trouble knowing where we go with her. We have learned some interesting things about her past, we also know that she will rather enjoy the life. Maybe with Priya it will be to convince her, to reassure her about being in a serious relationship. It’s difficult to know at the moment and the fact that she has that perfect and Mary-Sue side is not helping her for the moment.

- I really love how Nath is writing for the moment. I know from experience that when you love a character, it will be easier to write it and to write it well. That does not mean that we can not write well a character we love less, it only means that it will take a little more time and energy. Chino said Nath is her favorite and it shows in my opinion. She has a predilection for tortured characters.

- Castiel is also a character that I appreciate. During those four years, he really became a more mature adult, he kept what made his charm when he was younger, while working on his flaws. I’m still waiting a little, but for the moment, it seems to me to be well written.

- There are other characters I like the way they are written at each of their appearances, like Kim or Amber, even Yeleen and I love Chani with all my heart

- Even though I do not like her, Melody seems to have more to show than in HSL, so I’m a little intrigued.

- I do not really have an opinion about Alexy, Rosa, Morgan, Nina … I still can not understand how they are written, especially Rosa and Alexy. Unlike Castiel and Nath, I can not see how they have evolved and become who they are today. So wait and see.

- I do not really like Clemence’s writing, too caricatural for me for the moment.

- About Candy… I have mixed feelings. Sometimes I love how she thinks and reacts, sometimes I just wonder where she put her brain. I love that we can have so much access to her thoughts. I know that some people do not like it because of the AP system or because some of her thoughts could be embarrassing to players who want a more malleable character. I have to admit I’d like her to have more questions, but maybe because I’m a very introverted person myself and I’m constantly thinking, having a lot of questions in my mind.

- Regarding the plot, there may be some clichés, but I do not think that’s a problem. Clichés are good too ! I am not asking an author to give me something that is necessarily original and never seen. I first want my emotions to be jostled. Sometimes laugh, sometimes dream, sometimes cry.

- There are scripting facilities especially concerning Candy’s studies. This point is delicate, especially because it is an otome. There are people who want more, others who want less … It’s complicated. That said, I think that some things could be avoided, even when we do not want to develop too much.

That���s all that comes to me about writing MCLU right now, actually.

For Eldarya :

- I really, really love Eldarya, but my main problem is the lore. I want more. I want so much more. I really feel that this is the most damaging to the game and gives the impression to some players that the game has problems of inconsistency and misunderstanding. But again, it’s really difficult, because there are a lot of players who do not care, who do not want more lore, more explanations and just want the plot to advance, again and still, who do not want to take the time to observe the world in which Erika evolves. And the most incredible is that these same players are able to blame problems of inconsistency ! And, of course, there is this word limit problem. This is really a problem for me, because it forces writers to get to the point, to give the maximum, but with the minimum.

- The way our character is written is really correct for me, but I would just like her to have a lot more questions about the world around her. Simply because it makes sense to do it in an unknown world !

It’s a personal taste, but I love her sexual freedom, the fact that her relationship starts this way. Because it’s really, really pleasant to be able to play, in an otome, a character who has the same sexuality as you. In most of the otome games I’ve played, the character does not have that freedom, she’s either uncomfortable or completely ignorant. I can deal with this, because some people work that way in real life, but when it happens again and again, it becomes very frustrating.

But, I still have a problem with the way in which the relationship is presented.

For Leiftan, it’s completely perfect. It’s from the beginning that they get closer slowly, Leiftan is really adorable, he never rush her when he loves her from the beginning. And the beginning, it means several months, almost half a year ! And considering this, considering the link that unites them, I just find that their relationship is fantastic. This is the only one of the relationships where Leiftan really tells her “I love you” and not in a roundabout way and retracting, like Nevra for example. And we really have the choice to say “I love you” too and it’s so fucking amazing because it’s so natural! I love them, I love their relationship !

 And then there are the chiefs of the guard. The problem is that the beginning of the relationship was not as idyllic with them and that there were problems, they did not really respect her when she arrived and for a moment, and they have even betrayed one of the worst ways possible. They stole his earthly life!

So, the relationship with them sounds a little … weird.

Valkyon is pretty much ok, because for the moment, the beginning of their relationship was mostly focused on the physical aspect, not yet sentimental. So … ok.

For Nevra and Ezarel, it’s clearly more weird in my opinion. It’s rushed. They are there, animated by the passion of love and you do not understand just why, how it happened so quickly. Not even three months ago, they forced her to drink a potion to erase her from her family’s memory, and now it’s almost as if Nevra is going to ask her to marry him, to take his example.

The reason is simple, it is to try to put the three guys at about the same level as Leiftan (even if Leiftan remains favored). But it still weird.

- I am totally in love with the way Leiftan is written. I. Love. Him.

- There are other characters I like the way they are written, like Chrome, Ewelein, Camera, Keroshane…

- About Ezarel, Valkyon et Nevra… I don’t really know. I always had a little trouble with their personality. They bother me a little, but I hope their arcs will make them more interesting.

- I’m really, really intrigued by Lance.

- Miiko was written a little awkwardly for me, the aspects of her personality were not presented in a balanced way

- I do not really have an opinion about writing other characters.

- And finally, about the plot, I really love it, i’m really interesting, passionate about this, I can spend hours thinking about theories, thinking about all the details, doing research… I want a library with a list of info unlocked for each episode.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Wan High Weeping (Part 44)

Oh boy, the court scene, it’s 110% accurate. Trust me, I’m a professional, I’ve watched Judge Judy.

Also content warning on this chapter because it is from the perspective of the rapist and, naturally, he doesn’t have anything kind to say.

Jet scowled, jail time was doing him no good and his lawyer didn’t seem to have much interest in him. None of them did, not when the evidence stacked against him was so concrete. It was the day of his trial and frankly he couldn’t wait to see the face of that whore again. In fact he was thrilled to see both of his little sluts.

It may very well be the end of his run, but at least he could have the pleasure of seeing their discomforts one last time. At least he could rub it in Katara’s face what he had done. Maybe, if he was feeling up to it, he would rub it in that her mature and responsible brother was going to face a punishment of his own.

And TyLee. How he couldn’t wait to bring some fond memories to the surface. He had so many words to pick out. He was going to help fill in the cracks, clear any fuzzy surrounding his homecoming party.

Hell, he’d get Chan too if the man showed up.

Why not remind him of Ruon and how he couldn’t save him? The boy did do a number to Jet’s face. He deserved a good verbal beatdown too.

They removed him from his cell in cuffs. It would seem that he’d be cuffed for the duration of the trial. But that was fine, it was all okay. He didn’t need his hands to make them all squirm and blush. He didn’t need hands to inflict distress.  

Katara was already at the stand when he arrived, she looks annoyingly confident with her head held high and her eyes focused on the spot where the judge would soon stand. Behind her was TyLee, looking a little more fidgety. He’d break her, oh yes he would. Next to TyLee stood Sokka with a grim expression, looked like the man had already worked himself into a rage. He could exploit that too. If he was going to jail, he might as well bring someone with him.  Chan looked twice as easy to piss off, but he couldn’t see the man getting into too much trouble between his parents’ wallets and his age.

Katara’s parents were there too, he could see it in their eyes that they wanted to be standing as close to their daughter as they possibly could.

He stood before the court giving his sworn testimony. He tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth he would, in full and graphic detail.

Katara was all smug and mighty now, but she wouldn’t be by the time he was through.

They led him behind his podium where his defense attorney stood rigidly, looking as though life had dealt her the worst cards.

He listened to Katara babble on and on about how horrible she had it, how he had ruined her life. “I still wake up sometimes and it feels like his hands are on me.” She had emotional appeal down to a tee. He wished that she would skip the bullshit; the court was looking for facts not sniveling.

The judge looked up, her eyes landing on Katara. “Thank you Ms. Nanouk, but I would like you to tell me exactly what happened. I want to know of the events leading up to those nightmares.”

Katara nodded, “Right, I’m sorry. It was Halloween, Ch--Mr. Haga was throwing his yearly Halloween party and I decided to go. I was mostly with my friends, Aang and Suki, and I had my brother, Sokka. Every once in a while I would spot Jet in the crowd. He was just staring at me. And every time I noticed him, I went somewhere else. But he would always find me.  And then Sokka and Suki left me and I found TyLee.” She motioned to the girl. “So I thought that things would be okay. But then I started feeling...strange.  I think he put something in my drink. But at the time I thought that it was just stress and anxiety, so I tried to forget about it. Around that time, TyLee went to the bathroom and that’s when Jet found me…”

“And what happened after that?” The judge asked. Jet couldn’t help but grin, watching her get all squeamish at the question.

“He took me into a room, I don’t remember what the room looked like. I passed out and then I woke up in the hospital with pictures of me.” She paused, “of me  topless in my phone’s camera roll.”

His attorney spoke up. “But you have no concrete proof that Jet removed your shirt, nor that he put something in your drink. What is to say that you didn’t have drink or two and took your own shirt off? It would be easier to claim assault than to deal with people finding out that you had a little too much.”

Katara’s mouth opened and closed. It took all of Jet’s willpower to not remind everyone of the slut rumors.

“I-I.” She sputtered. “I have three witnesses to say I was assaulted.”

“Four if you include my phone.” TyLee spoke up.

“Do not speak unless addressed.”

“I’m sorry, your honor.” TyLee mumbled.

“Let me see the phone.”

TyLee placed it in the hands of the bailiff. He carried it up to the judge who reviews it. “I will present these clips to the jury.”

Jet smirked to himself as the footage rolled. Katara was growing increasingly uncomfortable, doing her best to look everywhere but at the clips. But the sound of his voice on record had her cringing throughout. A satisfactory sight, if he must say.

He hoped that it would haunt her.

The clip came to an end and he half listened to whatever the judge was saying. He saw TyLee step forward and listened to her recount the same tale as TyLee. And then Chan rehashed it as well. Jet wondered just how much restraint it was taking him to not burst in front of the judge--a lot if his grip on the podium was anything to go by.

Sokka, the dumb bloke, stepped up next. He had a much simpler and muddled recount of the events. A rather useless witness if he had to say. The man hadn’t even been there to catch him toying with his sister.  He just saw Chan and assumed--albeit, correctly--that Jet had done something.

“Is there anything else that anyone would like to add?” The judge offered. She waited for a moment. “I would like to hear from the defendant.”

Jet’s attorney answered for him, addressing not the judge, but Katara. “You said that you went to a party, am I correct?”

“Yes.” Katara confirmed.

“And you knew, Ms. Nanouk that going to the party wasn’t a wise decision?” It was really the only semi-solid argument she had in Jet’s defense.

“We-well, yes.” She sputtered.

His attorney cut her off.  “Then why did you go? You knew that you were putting yourself in an unsafe situation, full of drunk teens and some college students.” She spared a glance at Sokka. “My client was just one of many who probably had the same intentions, seeing an innocent girl.”

Katara’s attorney wedged himself into the conversation. “She is a seventeen year old girl. An innocent one, as you helpfully noted. She should not have to think about the possibility of assault when going to a party filled with people she attends school with regularly. If they can go without felony on school grounds, why should she have to mistrust them later? Is every girl supposed to think to herself, ‘but what if I get raped’, every time she leaves the house?” He paused. “And to address your second point. Maybe your client wasn’t the only one with dirty intentions, but he was the one who acted upon them. Don’t think, for a moment, that we would not be here if it was another boy or girl like him.”

“But you did not trust them, did you, Ms. Nanouk?” Jet’s attorney spoke up. “You have been sent various threats. And yet you attended the party anyhow.”

The judge cut in. “I would like you to help me understand why you attended an event you knew would put you in a dangerous position.”

“Objection, your honor.” Katara’s attorney spoke smoothly. “Her attendance at is irrelevant. My client had told me that she had contacted law enforcement multiple times--once after Mr. Akunin had shattered the window of her house. It is abundantly clear that he would have found a way to act on his perversions regardless of whether or not Ms. Nanouk attended Mr. Haga’s party.”

“Do you have proof of your contact with law enforcement?” The judge addressed Katara.

“I have a few police reports, your honor.”  Katara passed those over to the bailiff.

The judge looked them over. The sound of her half-hum, half-speak as she read hit Jet’s ears in all the wrong way. Honestly, he wished that they’d just cut the bullshit and hand him his sentence or his freedom. Again she prattled on and on about her thoughts on the police reports. It interested him none, he could see it on their faces that the jury had made up their minds the minute the clips had begun rolling.

“Mr. Akunin, would you like to make a statement?”

And because they had already decided he might as well deliver a final blow. “Sure thing. I’d like to confess.”

His attorney pinched the bridge of her nose, he was doing exactly what she had advised against.

“I assaulted Kitty Kat.” He started. She was already tensing at the pet name and it drove him onward. “And I had a great time. She made it so easy. She is easy. She’s such a prude, I thought that I’d do her a favor and help her come out of her shell a little. I was nice enough to put up with it for a little while, but you can’t just deprive someone of sex, that’s just cruel. So I figured that we’d have some sex and she wouldn’t die a high-strung virgin.” He turned to Katara. “Come on now, Kitty Kat, live a little. You should thank me for trying to save you from being your prude self.” He let that sit before laying out some details. “You know, just before you went out cold you muttered, ‘please, Jet, don’t do it’ and you gave me the weakest little punch. There’s no bigger turn on than a damsel with some fight, I had to rip your shirt off after that, you gave me no choice, Kitty Kat.”

Her eyes were getting misty, another big turn on. He would have made her away of that too if the judge hadn’t cut him short with a, “that’s quite enough, Mr. Akunin.”

Her scowl was enough to murder. But he wasn’t done. “And I’ll save you the mess of a second trial; I raped Boyang too. She was real fun. Those whore tits were just begging for…”

The gavle came down thrice. “Enough, Akunin!” Sharp and without the honorific.

Never had he seen a room so full of disgust and loathing.

He had done his job.

Soon enough he’d be making himself at home in a jail cell, but at least Kitty Kat would have a lot to think about.

[fictionfixations]

Longing for home / DSMP x No Trauma Fic [Tommy-centric - SBI Found Family] / Thoughts

Honestly.. I've cried so many fucking times. First of all, HOLY SHIT- okay so basically this fic is Tommy getting into another dimension where its before the DSMP happened and Phil actually stayed instead of leaving and Techno is not an anarchist (..probably.?)

and wilbur is not insane

and ijust

okay spoilers but like (AND TW for Death, corpse mention)

HOLY SHIT??? okay so Tommys just grown so fucking much, ExCUSE ME??? hes matured, hes healing, and he just, watching him say goodbye to everyone made me cry so hard, because I just.. yknow I didn't want him to go but its understandable, because eventually comes a time you have to leave something, and when that happens, you cant really put it off yknow? Even if there were some good times in there with your closest friends, you have to do what you have to do to find closure, to finally be able to feel safe and content, because those memories will still remain. Even if you leave, they will still be there, forever and always.

and then it turned out other tommy was fucking dead WHICH HOLY SHIT? AND THEN WILBUR FINDING THAT DEAD BODY (holy shit it was graphic and not graphic at the same time but graphic enough to where i felt very unsettled. yknow the few things that ive found that scare the fuck out of me have been bugs and dead bodies. ive been to a funeral once haha and I couldn't handle staring at it, so Wilbur having seen other Tommy's dead body all bloody and messed up, horrifying in such a way that never shouldve happened.. jesus fuck man.)

ALSO THAT CLIFFHANGER?

pardon me but DREAM?? OKAY SO I HAVENT READ PART TWO YET BUT ILL PROBABLY MAKE A THOUGHTS ON IT no promises.. but like i dont want to forget what happened in this one cause ive been binging it for like awhile and im sleep deprived at the same time with all my tears (it keeps bringing me to tears, i just cant)

so ive just been kinda sobbing and hiccuping and kinda glad i cry quietly because bro i was bawling my eyes out lmAO

i will miss tubbo though. I understand though that other tubbo will never be his tubbo, but will still be there regardless, and i think.. it kinda helped? i mean otherwise he might just have a tubbo-sized hole in his heart u-u

i do appreciate the dsmp wilbur understanding eventually though instead of never learning and making the same mistakes- understanding that if Tommy is happy with the other version, that he'll leave.

theres just so much healing and understanding in this fic and i love it and i really think there should be more because a lot of people just dont make it realistic, and I know that thats a hard thing to do, to show healing in a slow yet realistic pace, in a way that you can see it, that it doesnt seem out of character and that you can see that growth as time goes on, but i think this fic did it pretty well.

[goforwardgreenwriter-blog]

The Worm Reads: Empire of Storms, Ch 1 - 2

 Book: Empire of Storms

Author: Sarah J. Mass

Ah, my dear readers, what can one say about SJM? While I do admit there is some value in a few of her books (I quite enjoyed the early t0g novels) to say her writing has stirred controversy is a bit of an understatement. There are arguments for and against why her series are problematic and toxic, why her world building is atrocious and her characters overpowered and unlikable, but I believe every author deserves a chance. Let’s see if we can give EoS a good fair shake to see whether it holds up or not, shall we?

The prologue of this book starts right off with Princess Elena Galathynius and her broad shouldered boy toy Gavin (we all know SJM does enjoy herself a broad shouldered man or two) angsting over the inevitable doom and deaths of their friends while planning to flee the battle to buy themselves more time. I won’t bore you with details; it’s separate from the main plot, short, and doesn’t offend me that much. Moving on!

Chapter One

The real story kicks off with Elide Lochan, a character from the previous novel, running through the woods. Elide was one of the few characters I found myself endeared towards, for her sweet yet strong personality and her relationship with Manon.

Weeks. It had been weeks since Manon Blackbeak and the Thirteen had left her in this forest, the Wing Leader ordering her to head north. To find her lost queen, now grown and mighty—and to also find Celaena Sardothien, whoever she was, so that Elide might repay the life debt she owed to Kaltain Rompier.

For those not aware, SJM is extremely found of em dashes. Like, she uses them a lot. I’m guilty of this too, but at least I have the sense to edit them out before publishing works! Also oof, I can smell Celaena gushing coming up.

Unfortunately, Elide had learned the hard way about what water to drink. Three days, she’d been near death with vomiting and fever after gulping down that stagnant pond water. Three days, she’d shivered so badly she thought her bones would crack apart.

While I like the imagery used here, since you get the full picture of how cold she was..... Shouldn’t the sentence be “For three days”? Just stating three days and what she was doing has no connection.

She’d run out of food a week ago and had taken to scavenging for berries. They were all foreign, but a whisper of a memory from her years with her nursemaid, Finnula, had warned her to rub them on her wrist first— to see if they raised any reaction.

I actually really like this, It shows Elide is smart, has a good memory, and is resourceful. SJM, please don’t mess her up.

Maybe she’d made a wrong turn. How would she know when she’d crossed Terrasen’s border, anyway? And how would she ever find her queen—her court?

Unghhhhh she doesn’t mean Aelin does she? If Elide is used only to gush and fangirl over what an amazing queen Aelin is I’m gonna be ill.

Elide hears wyverns flying by and hides, before realizing....

Not witches or wyverns or beasts. But someone—someone was watching her. Someone was following her.

Manon has come to sweep her girlfriend off her feet! Right...?

Lorcan Salvaterre had been running from those gods-damned beasts for two days now.

Oh god no.

Here’s the thing; I like Lorcan as a villain. He was a threat that at least made the main characters sweat a little in the previous novel, to my memory. Surely he will continue to be a villain, perhaps Elide’s main rival in this novel? After all we have a paragraph describing how he tortured and killed some witches, so surely-

He’d been hiding here first, listening to the clamor of [Elide’s] clumsy approach, and had watched her stumble and limp when she finally heard what swept toward them. She was delicately built, small enough that he might have thought her barely past her first bleed were it not for the full breasts beneath her close-fitting leathers.

I’M... SPEECHLESS. Why is that what Lorcan notices about her?? Not her mature vibe, perhaps the determination on her face, but her breasts? He doesn’t even know this girl!! Also, just because a girl has big breasts doesn’t mean she’s older. I know girls as young as 14 with huge breasts. And while I like that SJM does acknowledge periods, which so many YA authors act like they don’t exist, the focus of it here makes me... uncomfortable.

The demon-possessed girl limped up the streambed, that useless knife still out, her grip on its hilt wholly ineffective. Good. And so Lorcan began his hunt.

Oh, so maybe he is going to be an enemy during this novel? I’d read a showdown between them. Preferably with Elide outwitting and kicking his ass.

Chapter 2

Crouched beside the brook, empty skins forgotten on the mossy bank, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius extended a scarred hand over the rushing water and let the song of the early-morning storm wash over her.

*inhales* Oh Aelin. A character most hate, and one I just honestly don’t know. There’s times where I like how arrogant and show off she can be, but other times she aggravates me, mostly due to the whole lost queen thing. 

She breathed in the chill mists and fresh rain, dragging them deep into her lungs. Her magic guttered in answer, as if yawning good morning and tumbling back to sleep.

I actually like the way SJM describes magic, as if its its own sentient being that lives within its owner. Too bad there’s no magic system or anything actually done with this imagery. 

Across the brook, atop a mossy boulder tucked into the arms of a gnarled oak, a pair of tiny bone-white fingers flexed and cracked, a mirror to her own movements. Aelin smiled and said so quietly it was barely audible over the stream and rain, “If you have any pointers, friend, I’d love to hear them.”

The Little Folk illustrate my biggest issue with SJM; she comes up with cool fantasy concepts and characters, and never does anything with them. The Little Folk serve little purpose (ha), but I love them!! I love this scene with the Little Folk mirroring her movements. But I’m willing to wager SJM is never gonna bring them up again.

But they’d left small gifts just outside the border of Rowan’s nightly shields, somehow deposited without alerting whichever of them was on watch.

I’m stanning the Little Folk. They’re magic and skilled enough to outwit even Rowan and they bring them cute handmade gifts? Give me a Little Folk spin off.

Soggy leaves crunched behind her, and Aelin knew it was only because Rowan wanted her to hear his approach. “Careful, or they’ll leave something wet and cold in your bedroll next time.”

*inhales* Hoo boy, Aelin/Rowan time. This should be... interesting.

Strong hands slid over her waist, tugging her into his warmth, as Rowan’s lips grazed her neck, right under her ear. Aelin arched back into him while his mouth roved across her throat, heating mist-chilled skin. “Good morning to you,” she breathed.

And already they’re acting hornier than teenagers right now. Great. I mean, I’m not opposed to characters being in sexual relationships or expressing this, but God, these two take it waaaay too far. They think about sex 24/7 and it gets exhausting after a while. 

“If you want to take a bath so badly,” Rowan murmured against her neck, “I spotted a pool about a quarter mile back. You could heat it—for both of us.” She ran her nails down the back of his hands, up his forearms. “I’d boil all the fish and frogs inside it. I doubt it’d be very pleasant then.”

(...)

A dark laugh against her now-burning skin. It was an effort to keep from taking one of his hands and guiding it up to her breasts, to beg him to touch, take, taste.

Like, can we get them having a nice romantic moment without them being so sex hungry for once? I barely have any feel of a connection between them aside from the fact that they are DTF. I wouldn’t have an issue if this was an erotica novel, but this is supposed to be epic fantasy.

Aelin expositions about how they’re planning to meet some lords from Terrasen, and how Lorcan is under the impression that he has the real Wyrdkey. Hopefully this means we’ll be getting some awesome fantasy content soon.

He gave her a wry smile and aimed a pointed look at Goldryn, sheathed across her back, and the various knives strapped to her. “And besides: I thought ‘cloak-and-dagger’ was your middle name.” She offered him a vulgar gesture in return.

Wait, why is SJM censoring the middle finger? I’d understand if this was an actual YA novel, but this book has graphic sex scenes. Why can’t she write Aelin flipping someone off? Unless Aelin is doing some other hand gesture?

No matter that Aelin was the bearer of a weapon capable of wiping out this entire valley, along with the gray Staghorn Mountains watching over it. And that was just her magic.

*sigh* We get it SJM, Aelin is the most special powerful sorcerer to ever exist. 

“You trust nothing.” She met his eyes. “I trust you.”

If this was for a ship I liked, I’d be squealing with delight. But then the two of them proceed to make out yet again, and immediately the smile on my face dies as I am forced to yet again read paragraphs of Rowan forcing his tongue down Aelin’s throat.

So Aelin kissed Rowan gently, his hands again locking around her hips. “Fireheart,” he said onto her mouth. “Buzzard,” she murmured onto his.

Okay, I will admit. Couples having special nicknames for each other is one of my favorite tropes. I’ll admit, Aelin calling Rowan buzzard is kinda sweet if you ignored how shitty their relationship is.

Evangeline howled, “Fooooood!” Fleetfoot’s answering howl followed a heartbeat later. Then Lysandra’s snarl rippled toward them, silencing girl and hound.

Lysandra!!! Another character I loved. She is so strong and overcomes her abuser and her trauma to become a badass warrior, and plus she has girl friendship with Aelin! I’d read a series about Elide and Lysandra traveling around the world together.

When she looked back, Rowan was halfway to the camp, Evangeline’s red-gold hair flashing as she bounded through the dripping trees, begging the prince for toast and eggs.

....... eggs and toast? In the middle of the forest? Not what I’d expect, but alright.

And Aelin Galathynius, Queen of Terrasen, knew the time would soon come to prove just how much she’d bleed for Erilea.

Sure, sweetheart. Also, you’re not a queen yet. You haven’t been crowned or declared ruler officially.

We switch to Aedion’s POV. I suspect if SJM let him have a motive and personality outside of worshiping Aelin, he;d be a good character.

[Lysandra] had used these weeks of travel to try out new forms: birds, beasts, insects that had a tendency to buzz in his ear or bite him. Rarely —so rarely—had Lysandra taken the human form he’d met her in.

I love Lysandra. That is all.

[Aelin]’d grown quieter the farther north they’d traveled. Perhaps weeks on the road had sapped her. After tonight, depending on what the lords reported, he’d try to find her a quiet place to rest for a day or two before they made the last leg of the trek to Orynth.

Again, had this been any other characters, it’d be sweet of him to know his cousin so well that he knows when she’s tired and want her to rest. But like, Aedion’s entire character revolves around Aelin it’s tiresome.

“Darrow was your uncle’s lover,” he added, stretching his legs out before him. “For decades. He’s never spoken once to me about your uncle, but... they were very close, Aelin. Darrow didn’t publicly mourn Orlon beyond what was required after the passing of a king, but he became a different man afterward. He’s a hard bastard now, but still a fair one. Much of what he’s done has been out of his unfading love for Orlon—and for Terrasen. His own maneuvering kept us from becoming completely starved and destitute. Remember that.” Indeed, Darrow had long straddled a line between serving the King of Adarlan and undermining him.

Oooo, a LGBT character! Very nice! However, from that description of Darrow being a supposed bastard, I’m worried he might be the villain. Which wouldn’t be a problem if there were other LGBT characters, but since Darrow is the only confirmed one that comes to mind at current, this might turn out bad.

The flames pulled apart like drawn curtains to allow [Evangeline] and Fleetfoot, sensing the child’s fear and pressing close, passage to an inner ring that would not burn her. But would melt the bones of their enemies.

Um, why is that a fragment? Shouldn’t the phrase read, “(...) passage to an inner ring that would not burn her, but would melt the bones of their enemies”?

So they are startled by the arrival of a messenger and Rowan puts a knife to his throat. I’d understand if he did this until the messenger tells them who he is, but seriously? Keeping a blade at the guy’s throat? He’s the messenger of the people you want to be allies with!

Even as Rowan nudged him forward, that cruel knife still angled at his throat. Aedion jerked his chin at Rowan. “He can’t very well deliver the message with a blade at his windpipe.”

Lmfao it literally takes Aedion pointing this out for Rowan to chill out.

Her magic simmered in response. And that [amulet]—that hideous power hanging between her breasts—seemed to open an ancient eye at all the commotion.

Again, a nit pick, but why is SJM so fascinated with the amulet being between Aelin’s breasts? It seriously takes away from the impact of the sentence, which is trying to make the amulet sound dangerous but all I can think about is the amulet squished between her boobs. It would’ve been better to simply say the amulet around her neck or something.

So the messenger tells them the lords won’t be coming out to the forest, which is honestly understandable. They’re old and can’t travel as well as the younger characters, and it’s raining outside. 

So those were the first two chapters. Well, it isn’t too bad so far, but not great either. Honestly, I’m just weirded out by SJM’s focus on the women’s breasts. If this was an erotica novel, I’d have zero problems with it, but considering this book is supposed to be epic fantasy, it just pulls me out of the story every time it is focused on. But we’ll see if SJM can do better with the next chapters.

[highqualitydolans]

Cannibal {05}

Part Five

Read Part Four

Word Count: 5,100+ Warnings: Mature content and language (14+). Graphic content. Graphic depictions of corpses.

They tell you not to run when you spot a cannibal. They can only sense movement. They can hear you, too, but it’s their eyes that really seek out their prey.

So of course I freeze up completely when I see it.

Its flesh is hanging off its jaw, so I can see every single one of its teeth, all covered in blood and muck. I try not to gag.

I dare not to breathe as the cannibal preys around the room, looking in every which direction for movement. It must sense me in here.

Then there’s a scream.

I know who the voice belongs to, and it automatically makes my heart drop.

The cannibal growls and turns to the direction of the voice, running as fast as it can.

“No!” I scream, running after it.

It runs upstairs, following the continuing screams, screams that I’m sure will haunt me forever now. I hear them too, and each one cuts deeper into me, hope plummeting with every step I take up the stairs, and they’re loud, drowning out my cries to try to get the cannibal to come after me instead, so I have no choice but to follow it, letting my feet carry me towards what I’m afraid I might find.

I’m up the stairs, and the screams have stopped. I look down at my hands, knowing moments before I’d had  knife with me, but it’s gone now. I must have dropped it in fear of the worst.

And the worst was probably here.

There were no more screams, just the sounds of cannibals ravishing a meal. There’s four doors lining the hallway of the house I don’t remember coming to. Slowly, I make my way down it, each step heavier than the last.

The first door is a bathroom. Empty.

The second is a bedroom. Empty.

The third door. It’s covered in blood. Handprints a size I know. I’ve held those hands before, I’m sure of it.

Hot tears are streaming down my face now. I already know what’s behind that door and I’m not even in the room yet.

Sickening slurps and disgusting chewing fills the room as I enter.

Two cannibals. Over the body.

Her body.

Feasting.

I scream.

One cannibal turns to me, lunging without a second thought.

I open my eyes, gasping. I’d sit up, but I hardly have the strength.

My heavy breathing fills the cabin, and I realize I’m still at the camp, my arm wrapped snugly in a bandage and my foot propped up, just as it had been for two days now.

I swipe a palm down my face. I’m drenched in sweat from my nightmare. I quickly glance over at Y/N’s bed. She’s tucked under her own covers, facing away from me. I can tell her breathing is heavy, so I know she’s asleep. I’m only a bit surprised I didn’t wake her, considering I’ve always been a loud sleeper. It’s always worse with the nightmares, too.

Sighing, I look back up at the ceiling. I recognized the body in my dream. I can swear it was Y/N’s but I’m not sure why I’d dreamt of her.

She’s made it obvious since day one that she has no interest in me, but who can blame her? I haven’t exactly given her any reason to like me. What, with the capturing her and her people, almost taking off her friend’s head - although I swear I wasn’t going to, I was just curious to see who had the balls to stop me. And Y/N had been the one to so it.

Liza, I think that’s her name, she’s forgiven me for it. Said she hates me a little, but forgiven nonetheless. Y/N’s a different story. I don’t think she’s forgiven me. I’m not sure she ever will.

Something about her pulled me in that day in our sanctuary. She stood up to me like no one else had. It was the first real challenge I’d ever been faced since the virus broke out. Well, the first real challenge from a real human who hasn’t been infected.

Y/N begins to stir in her bed, making me turn to look at her. Her body flips over, settling further into the blankets, but she’s facing me now. I wonder how long she’s been asleep.

Or how long I’ve been asleep, for that matter.

I look out the deck door, the one that leads out back to the lake. It’s still a bit dark outside, but I can see the sun rising in the distance. It casts a warm glow into our room.

Now I’m looking at Y/N again, the sunshine on her serene face. It makes her look youthful and soft.

I know for sure now that it was her in my dream, being eaten by cannibals. The thought makes me tremble and I slowly sit up, trying to push the thought away.

I run a lazy hand through my hair as my stomach begins to rumble. I’m suddenly plagued with the memory of praactical starvation before I’d fallen asleep last night. I also remember Y/N standing over me, promising to bring me back food before we went to sleep, but I can’t remember falling asleep at all.

That’s when I notice a box of cereal and two bowls sitting on the table at the other side of the room. It makes my stomach growl louder, echoing off the walls. I almost laugh at how loud it is, especially after it makes Y/N stir again, folding her arm underneath her head. But she remains asleep.

I vaguely remember asking her to eat with me and her refusing, saying she’d rather die than do that. The memory pangs the nightmare of her still body back into my head, and I have to pinch my hand to make myself forget it again.

I’m too hungry to wait, though, even if I want to eat with her. So I slowly turn my body around, letting my legs fall off the bed, being careful with my covered one as I settle it onto the floor.

I limp my way to the table with my IV stand rolling beside me, grabbing both bowls and the cereal before taking them out the back door. I settle myself onto the ledge of the back deck, letting my feet dangle off the side. The wooden lining of the deck’s fence comes up to my chest so I can lean against it. I pour some cereal into one of the bowls, leaving the other one on the floor beside me.

No sooner than I take a spoonful into my mouth do I hear small padded steps coming to the door. I can hear it open behind me, but I don’t take my gaze from the lake in front of me, my arms resting on the wood as I scoop more cereal into my mouth.

“You started without me,” Y/N’s voice says through a yawn. She bends down to pick up her own bowl and then sits beside me, crossing her legs beneath her.

“You looked too comfortable. I didn’t want to wake you,” I confess. I still don’t look at her, I’m afraid of seeing my nightmare again.

She sniffs. Then she pours cereal into her bowl before setting it into her lap. “I brought this to you last night, but you passed out.”

I can see out of the corner of my eye that her foot twitches after she says this, a weird mannerism that makes me think she might be lying, but I pretend not to notice.

I nod at her, shoving more cereal into my mouth. Maybe if I eat long enough, I won’t have to say anything. Maybe she’s not as hungry as I am and she’ll finish before me and leave and go do whatever it is she does here.

My nerves are suddenly on edge around her, and I know it’s because of my dream. It had genuinely scared me, the thought of her dying before my eyes. I try not to shudder.

“I can see why you didn’t want to give up this cabin,” I find myself saying, trying to get the thought of her lifeless body out of my head. I feel her eyes on me for a second, but then she looks out to the lake, the sunrise on the horizon. When she’d been so adamant about staying here, I thought maybe it was because she’d been here from the beginning. It wasn’t until now, looking out at the lake, that I realize why she wanted to stay here.

“The world is so fucked up,” she says with a scoff. “It was even before the outbreak.” She’s silent for a moment, taking another bite, then she swallows and continues. “There’s so many fucked up things on this planet that you need to find something to remind you that there’s still some beauty in it. This,” she says, waving out towards the lake, “keeps me sane. Even if I lose someone to a cannibal or a group of assholes,” she pauses.

I swallow. It doesn’t take a genius to know she’s talking about me.

“Even if there are so many things that make this world so ugly, this is still here to remind me it can be beautiful.”

Now I look at her. She’s gazing out at the lake, the sunrise settled on her face making her look ethereal. My chest contracts simply at the sight of her.

Here, breathing.

Alive.

“That can apply to people, too, you know?” I say quietly, almost afraid that if I speak too loud, this moment might dissolve.

She turns her head to look at me, and it’s only now that I notice her eyes, bright and sparkling. They’re no longer threatening like they’d been at the sanctuary and they’re not skeptical like they’d been when Aaron, Grayson and I first showed up. They’re curious now, questioning.

“I’m really sorry about everything we might have put you through. I’m not perfect by any means, not that you don’t know that already. I’ve done plenty of fucked up things, before and after the outbreak.” I pause, gauging her reaction, but when her expression doesn’t change, I continue. “But I don’t want to be a bad person.”

She continues to look at me for a moment before sighing and looking down at her cereal bowl. “I don’t think you’re a bad person. I did when I first met you, but,” she trails off, a small smile curling at her lips. The sight makes my fingers tingle. She looks at me again, but doesn’t say anything.

“I just want you to know that I’m on your side now. All of us are,” I tell her.

She slowly nods her head, the hint of the smile still on her lips. “I know.”

Then we continue to eat in silence, staring out at the lake, watching as the sun rises in the distance. We eat the rest of what’s left of the cereal, managing to get get five bowls out of it - I eat three of them.

As I stuff the last spoonful of cereal into my mouth, a thought occurs to me. “You know, I don’t blame him or anything, but your boyfriend really does not like me,” I say through the mouthful.

Her head shoots up in surprise and she turns so her whole body is facing me. “Sorry?”

“That guy, Andrew?”

“He is not my boyfriend,” she sputters quickly, wiping her mouth.

My eyebrows inch upwards. “He’s not?”

Y/N frantically shakes her head. “No, why? Did he say that he was?” She looks horrified.

It’s incredibly cute.

I smile and turn back to the lake. “Nah, it was just the way he looks at you, I guess.”

Her brows crease together, seeming to contemplate this. She really has no idea, does she?

I remember when she’d been standing in front of me at the sanctuary, my dumb ass kept taunting her and Andrew had been behind, glaring up at me. If it hadn’t been for one of my men holding a gun against his temple, I would have sworn he would’ve lunged at me. His eyes had been daggers, ripping me apart by just looking at me.

I’d been kind of - only kind of - afraid of him.

“Well, I’m sorry if he gave off the wrong impression. We aren’t- we’re not…” She struggles, and I can’t tell if it’s because she likes him too or if she just genuinely is surprised by this newfound information.

“Hey, I was wrong, no big deal,” I assure her, leaning back on my hands. “I mean, who can blame him for looking at you that way? You aren’t too bad on the eyes.”

I like doing this, teasing her. It’s not too hard to get a rise out of Y/N and it’s just way too fun.

She slaps me hard on my arm - the bad one. I hiss in pain.

“Shit, sorry, I forgot,” she says hurriedly, placing her hand on my arm at the same time I do. As soon as my hand touches hers, she flinches, but she doesn’t retract it.

“We’re even,” I say with a wince, patting her hand gently.

“Maybe you should keep your snide comments to yourself and maybe we won’t have that problem again,” she says, her tone teasing.

I look at her again, really look at her, and smile.

We’re both silent, just looking at each other, and the spot where her hand rests on my arm is burning, but not from the pain. I wonder if she can feel it too as I lean in closer, my gaze falling to her lips.

“Y/N?” a voice says from behind us.

We jolt apart as Alexis pads through the cabin and out the back door. “Hey- oh!”

Y/N quickly stands and grabs both our dirty bowls, turning to Alexis.

“Am I interrupting something?” Alexis asks with a smirk.

“Breakfast,” I answer with a shrug, smirking myself. Y/N glances down at me, glaring.

“Oh. I see,” she replies, giving me a subtle nod. “Well, that’s actually what I came here for, but seeing as you already ate…”

“I’m on gate duty today, better get out there before Blaine has a cow,” Y/N says hurriedly before shoving the bowls into Alexis’s hands and retreating to the cabin.

Alexis watches her go, but turns back to me, not even trying to hide her smile.

“Gate duty?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “She’s exempt from gate duty.”

There’s a small tinge of hurt in my stomach. I get she might have been embarrassed by Alexis’s sudden arrival, but did she really need to make up an excuse to get away from me that badly?

“I’ve also never seen her blush like that before.” Alexis leans against the door frame, crossing her arms in front of her. “What were guys really doing?”

I sigh, but smile. “We were eating breakfast, talking about the beauty in the ugly, discussing her rendezvous with Andrew. The usual,” I finish with a shrug before turning back to the lake, picturing Y/N’s glowing face as she talked about it, her eyes full of wonder and hope.

I hear the clank of the bowls before Alexis comes to stand beside me, not sitting down, but leaning against the railing of the porch.

“He’s always had this thing for her. Y/N I think pretends not to notice, but…” She trials off, kicking spilt pieces of cereal off the porch.

“She seemed genuinely shocked when I mentioned it,” I say.

I can see Alexis’s eyes twitch in curiosity. When she doesn’t say anything, I decide to drop the subject.

“Well, don’t let me keep you from breakfast,” I tell her, leaning forward onto the railing again.

“Y/N’s been hurt before you know?” she says suddenly. I just continue to stare out at the horizon. The sun if still looming in the sky, but it’s much higher than it had been when I first came out here.

“I’m not telling you this because I think you need to hear it, I’m telling you because I love Y/N. She’s my best friend and means more to me than anything in this world,” she continues.

This confession makes my breathing pause. If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume Alexis is in love with Y/N the same way Andrew might be. I take a peek up at her, but she’s gazing out at the lake now, where there are kids beginning to swim and play around in the water. Her eyes are a reflection of Y/N’s for a second, a glimmer of hope shining within them as they admire the view.

“Her heart has been broken too many times to count.”

When she doesn’t elaborate, I squint up at her. “Why are you telling me this?”

She sighs. It’s a sound of consideration, as if she herself doesn't know why she’s telling me this.

“Because she’s fragile and I love her and I know what she looks like when she about to hand her heart to someone.”

She pauses, taking in the lake and the sun for another gleaming moment before glancing down at me, her eyes warning, but sincere. “Guard it with you life.”

And then she leaves, taking the bowls with her.

After a few more minutes of admiring the lake some more, and then deciding that it felt a bit creepy to be watching a bunch of kids play in the water, I make my way back into the cabin.

My foot feels so much better, and I only limp a little bit as I trudge towards my bed, towing my IV stand with me. God, I wish I could take this thing out.

On my bedside table is a couple more novels that weren’t there before. Alexis must have brought them to me. Beside them is the talkie that the nurse Bre had given me in case of an emergency. I can only hope she’s still in the infirmary and not out for breakfast as I take a seat on my bed and pick up the talkie, turning the knob on it to spike the radio.

I press down on the comm button and hold it up to my lips. “Bre?” When I release, I’m met with static. I try again, turning the dial just a bit before saying her name again. “Bre?” More static.

I sigh and go to turn the knob back into the off position when a booming voice echoes through the cabin.

“Bre’s out for breakfast, who’s comming?”

It’s not a voice I recognize, so I know it’s not David or Emmett or Andrew. I know the name Trevor has been mentioned before, but it doesn’t sound the way Y/N had described.

“Hello? Are you there?” the voice asks again.

There’s plenty of people in this camp, so it could be anybody, really. I’ve got to think fast.

“Um, are you a nurse, too?” I ask with a small voice, hoping I sound sick or something.

“No, I’m sorry. It’s Blaine,” the voice says. He must think I’m one of is typical residents, which is good, but it doesn’t help the growing pace of my heartbeat.

Alexis said to steer clear of Blaine for as long as possible. Apparently the guy doesn't exactly warm up to just anybody. He also knows who we are - the Scabs. Well, he knows our reputation in the way Y/N had before we came here. So suffice to say, he probably doesn't like us.

“Is this Matt?” Blaine asks. “You out of your meds already? I’d bring them to you myself, but you know Bre. Might have to wait until she comes back-”

I suddenly panic, unsure of what to say, so I turn the knob off, shutting down the talkie before my mouth fails me and I say something totally stupid.

I throw the talkie back onto the table and run my hands down my face, trying to simmer my nerves. But the hope is short lived when there’s a knock at the door, making me jump with a gasp. I roll my eyes, seeing a familiar silhouette through the screen on the door.

“What?” I ask Andrew with a groan. I fall back onto my sheets, placing my good arm over my eyes while I listen to the door open.

“Where’s Y/N?” he asks, his voice low and seemingly angry.

“Gate duty,” I respond with a shrug, letting my arm drop. I can see him smirk out of the corner of my eye. With a deep breath, I shut my eyes, clenching my fists and trying to keep myself from lunging at him

“She never has gate duty.”

“That’s where she said she was off to,” I answer, not bothering to look at him.

I hear him prance into the room and sit on her bed, and suddenly my blood is boiling already.

“She probably just couldn’t stand to be in the same room as you any longer,” he says. I finally look at his smug face as he leans back on her bed, making himself comfortable. “I probably just missed her at the chow hall.”

“We ate breakfast together.”

He stills, but only for a second. “You and her? Yeah right,” he says with a scoff. He closes his eyes in leisure.

“We did. We even watched the sun rise together.”

His eyes open.

“We ate cereal.”

His jaw tightens.

“It was delicious,” I finish.

“I don’t like you,” he says suddenly, sitting up in a flash.

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” I answer sarcastically. Behind my eyelids, I roll my eyes.

“Don’t get smart with me, asshole. It’s bad enough you’re under the same roof as her, but I swear to god, if you lay a finger on her, I will come down here, make you a cannibal’s snack, and chop off your limbs myself.”

My eyes shoot open. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I’m sure you’d make a great test subject for that whiz kid.”

Aaron. He must be talking about Aaron. But how does he know about the research and his methods? The mention of cutting off my limbs makes me think of Stephen, Aaron’s most recent trial.

“I won’t think twice about sacrificing you. So keep your hands to yourself, Scab.”

After his final threat, he hops off Y/N’s bed and out the door in a flash.

My mind races.

When we had all talked about Aaron’s research, we never mentioned anything about how he was conducting his research, as a matter of fact, the topic was glazed over in that conversation. Y/N and Grayson suggested we go back to the sanctuary to get anything we could scavenge, but I knew it was much too dangerous to go. I wouldn’t allow them.

Now it clicks.

Y/N had slipped something into my drip last night, I remember. At the time, I’d thought it was just because I needed more healing fluids or whatever. I didn’t question because I thought she was just doing what Bre had told her to do. But now I know it must have been some sort of sedative to make me sleep so her and Grayson could slip out to scavenge for Aaron’s research. The only way Andrew would mention sacrificing me would be if they managed to get some of Aaron’s formulas after all.

God damnit.

Shaking my head in frustration, I grab the talkie back off the desk and switch it on. I turn the dial further than I had before, to seek out a different talkie, the one that’s in Grayson and Aaron’s cabin.

“Gray?” I say into it. His response is almost immediate.

“E?”

“You and Aaron get your asses down here, now.”

The line is silent for a few moments, but he eventually responds. “We can’t right now, Blaine is on duty.”

“I don’t give a fuck who is on duty, when were you going to tell me you went back to the sanctuary?”

Silence again. Blood boiling again.

“Who went?” I ask, not sure I want to know the answer.

“Me and a few of the others. Aaron stayed behind.”

“Who went?”

More silence. I try not to let my hand chuck the talkie across the room.

“Andrew, Alexis, Emmett, David…” Grayson pauses. I’m afraid I already know he’s about to say.

“And?”

“Y/N.”

I bring my fist to my mouth and bite down on a knuckle, letting it keep me from screaming. Why am I so mad about this?

My mind's telling me I should be grateful Aaron’s formulas didn’t fall into the wrong hands, but the thought of Y/N going there, where Jack could have been waiting to kill the first person who crossed the border, sets my skin on fire. And yeah, I’m worried about the rest of them, too, but a flash of Y/N’s lifeless body underneath two feasting cannibals crosses my mind for what seems like the thousandth time today, replaying the gorey, vivid nightmare I had last night.

“You drugged me?” I ask, remembering how Y/N had handled my drip last night.

“Don’t worry, I made sure she didn’t poison you or anything,” Aaron’s voice says right away.

“That’s not what-” I cut myself short, frustration taking over again.

“Look, Ethan, we knew you wouldn’t let us go. We needed to get these recipes before Jack did. We’re sorry,” Grayson says, his voice calm and quiet.

I sigh and rest my head in my hand, rubbing at my temple. “Was anyone hurt?” I ask, almost hesitantly. Y/N seemed fine this morning, but you can never be too sure.

“No. Everyone came back okay,” Grayson says. He’s silent for a second before adding, “Y/N was okay.”

He knows me way too well, and I don’t think it has anything to do with the fact that we’re twins.

Bre comms me a couple hours later, allowing me to almost finish ‘The Grapes of Wrath’, although it is probably the most boring book I’ve ever read. But I’m trying to appreciate it the way Alexis seems to. She’d gone on and on about how good it was. I really admired the gleam in her eyes when she talked about it, so I agreed to read it.

“103?” Bre’s voice says from the comm. I’m glad I didn’t turn off the talkie after I’d finished talking to Grayson and Aaron.

“I have a name you know,” I repl, holding it to my lips.

“You good?” she asks. Just her usual checkup.

“Actually, I was wondering if I’m good to go on the drip?” I ask, toying with the rubber tube attached to my arm.

“Hmm. Are you feeling nauseous at all?”

“Nope?”

“Overly tired?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Have you eaten today?”

“Sure have.”

The line is quiet for a moment before she speaks again. “I’m sure you should be okay. Just keep the supplies there in case you need it again. And come to me if your stitches open up. I’ll be there soon to take the drip out.”

“Actually, can you send Y/N to do it?” I ask, afraid there’s too much hope in my voice.

“That isn’t something I showed her how to do, but I’ll bring her with me. It will be better if she knows how to do it anyways, although I’m still a little on the fence about letting her touch my stuff anyways-”

“Thank you, Bre,” I cut her off, switching the talkie down before she can talk my ear off any more than she already has.

Not ten minutes later is Bre demonstrating to Y/N how to remove the drip safely and store it away properly for later use if we need it.

“And you have to be careful with the needle, we obviously don’t want you to poke yourself. And then you’ll store it here. I’ve packed some extra needles, though. Never reuse a needle.”

“Got it, Bre,” Y/N says, her voice laced with a hint of annoyance. She looks at me with wide eyes and smirk. I don’t return it. I’m too mad at her right now.

“All good?” Bre says, not waiting for an answer before trotting out the door.

Y/N shakes her head, closing the kit. “Gotta love Bre. Although she could probably go on forever about nothing and-”

“You left camp last night,” I tell her, cutting her off. She doesn’t say anything, just keeps her gaze on the kit at it zipped all the way shut. I stare at her back, almost daring her to face me.

When she does, she avoids my eyes and hooks her hands behind her back. I half expect her to look guilty, but there’s not a hint of it written on her features and when she meets my eyes finally, there’s pride there. Determination.

She really is not afraid of me, and that is probably the sexiest thing I’ve come to notice about her.

“Yes,” she says simply, her voice hard but quiet.

“Were you going to tell me?”

She narrows her eyes at me. “I might have, but you were asleep before we decided to leave.”

“Oh really?”

Her head cocks to the side ever-so-slightly, testing me. The corner of her mouth twitches and i can see her bite her cheek. She’s trying not to smile.

“So what was it?” I ask, standing up from my bed. Now without the drip in my arm, I can move freely, although still with a bit of a limp. “Diazepam? Midazolam?” I slowly step towards her. “Methohexital.”

Her eyelid twitches. Bingo.

“What would Bre say if she found out you stole her drugs?” I ask, stepping even closer to her. Her arms travel to her front, crossing over her chest.

She stays silent.

I step closer.

“Find anything useful while you were there?” I ask, stuffing my hands into my pockets.

I inch closer.

“Yes, actually,” she answers, not daring to move.

I’m all but standing right in front of her now, only a couple inches from stepping on her toes. I can see her neck and cheeks flush, but I don’t say anything.

We stand face to face for a good thirty seconds, staring the other down, neither of us saying anything, almost daring the other to move, but we don’t.

Her breathing is shallow and I’m sure she can see my ears turn red with my own blush, but she doesn’t say anything, either.

“Blaine has left the perimeter,” a female voice cuts through the room through the walkie on Y/N’s belt loop.

I smirk, leaning in.

My lips brush her ear for a split second.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

Then I walk to the closet, grab a change of clothes, and head out the door, the smirk never leaving my lips.

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