#x: queue & cunning

[gatitties]

hi so can you do a fic where The straw hats thought we died but when they retuned to scabaody we also come back?

Like the straw hats are like

WAIT YOUR NOT DEAD? HUH

─Strawhats x reader

─Summary: Everything seems to fall apart before their eyes when you die, only to find out that you were enjoying yourself in Sabaody and not in your grave.

─Warnings: none

lmao this was fun to write for no reason 😭🤌🏻

The loss of a loved one is a difficult battle, everyone on this crew has experienced at least one death of a family member or someone close to them to call them family, they hoped that pain would not damage their hearts again, unfortunately, you shattered their hearts when they found your limp body on Sky Island when you decided to go your own way.

With their hearts in their throats and their eyes red, they had to say goodbye to you bitterly, burying your body in a cluster of soft clouds, they were silent for a minute until Luffy was the first to give the signal to leave, he knew you would have liked that they were not so sad and that their adventures had not yet ended like yours.

They lamented your lack of presence, you always made everything a little more enjoyable with your nonsense, you managed to fit in perfectly with each of them and although you were not the smartest, most cunning or powerful on the team, they did not expect your early departure.

It was when they arrived at Sabaody for the first time that they thought they were going crazy, thinking that they had gotten over your loss, someone strangely like you seemed to be hanging around that island.

Luffy could clearly see how you were riding some attractions, Nami was confused when she saw you trip over a huge root, Chopper thought that the smell of disinfectant had made him hallucinate and see you eating cotton candy, Usopp simply thought he saw a ghost, Brook thought you came back from the dead to exact revenge when he saw you beating up a couple of guys who seemed to bother you, Franky could only catch your laugh, but it was so similar that he thought his brain was playing tricks on him, Zoro and Sanji bumped into you, but neither you nor they were paying attention as something bigger was catching everyone's attention and practically everyone was jostling each other.

While, oblivious to all the suffering, pain and coping that your companions had to do, you woke up buried in clouds a while ago, managing to get down and reach Sabaody miraculously like a stowaway on another pirate ship, you had planned to look for them and scold them a little for thinking you were dead, but your plans were thwarted when you found the island too much interesting, well, you had been 'dead' for a while, it was okay if you enjoyed a little time at the attractions before looking for your companions.

The thing is that you got so distracted and forgot to find them, if it weren't for the fact that, coincidentally, Jinbe ─who you didn't know since you didn't get to know him─ recognized you from the brief conversations they had with him about you, he was waiting in the queue to buy something and you were just behind, you started a chat to kill time.

"You look terribly like a person who died in the crew I'm part of now, I mean, because of the descriptions they made."

"Oh…"

The blood on your face disappeared at his words, remembering now that you had a crew to return to, and that in fact you were that supposedly dead person, you laughed nervously, wanting to resume your search, although there was no need.

"Hey, Jinbe, here! We were looking for you."

You blinked like an owl as you saw Luffy greet him with his characteristic smile, calming down as you saw the others walking a little further behind calmly, you smiled fondly when you saw them, making eye contact for a second with your captain as you sipped the drink you had gotten before, he casually greeted you by saying your name and you waved back, focused on finishing your drink.

"Wait a moment, you…" he narrowed his eyes looking at you again, drawing the attention of the others "Are you the twin of our dead comrade!?"

You choked on your own drink, Chopper patting you on the back.

"No uh- in fact it's me, the original, only and loved-"

"WEREN'T YOU DEAD!?"

You covered your ears when you heard Nami's scream, your tongue went dry and your body seemed to get smaller when you saw her gaze, everyone had different emotions reflected ─Luffy and Zoro were still a little confused because they really thought you have a twin─ but Nami was the most furious, she started hitting and pushing you.

"GIVE ME BACK THE TEARS I SHED FOR YOU!"

"AW, OH, SORRY!? YOU LEFT ME FOR DEAD!"

You ran in circles avoiding the navigator, protecting your head from her light blows while you apologized for not having warned that you 'rose from the dead'.

"Well, who knows, maybe it's a zombie."

"Robin, you're not helping me."

You whimpered, hiding behind Sanji and Franky, waiting for Nami to calm down, it wasn't a reunion like you planned ─you didn't plan anything─ but everyone felt a little relieved, leaving behind the bitterness of losing a partner and enjoying your company now that you were with them again.

[blueseachelle]

X reader request for some vax smut. So you know like how he can’t get the vestige off? Well that shouldn’t stop the reader from getting him off now should it? I was thinking maybe some hard grinding and getting him off through his new armor, and him putting that newfound uh…speed to good use.

I love this. So, I’m gonna totally make this in the woods. I don’t know a lot about the armor, Ya know, details….. Like a place to take out his-…..So anyway, please enjoy! I hope this satisfies you. If not, I’m always up for a rewrite. Not afraid to be told I didn’t fulfill your wishes. Please, let me know! Enjoy!

My Knight Trapped In Armor

Critical Role Vox Machina

Vax x Fem! Reader

Minors Do Not Interact

You have been with the group since the beginning for this long journey. Currently, collecting all the relics is your main mission. You’ve have gotten ahold of the first of the vestige and Vax had the honor of putting it on…. He was happy about it until he figured out that it will never come off.

You have been with Vax for a long while. You, Vax, and Vex were practically raised together. Ever since they ran from home you have always been there. You saved them from there first big fight. You haven’t strayed since that. You have always been there and helped them recruit the now known Vox Machina.

Vax has always had a crush on you, just didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had. Vex sees you as a little sister, Vax didn’t want to make it weird. He didn’t take the leap of faith until after the falling out at Whitestone to tell you how he felt, of course, with the encouragement of his sister. You returned the feelings and been with him ever since. So, onto the story.

The crew decided to make camp for the night. They found a nice clearing right before night fall so, everything was set up and ready to go before dusk. Everyone sat around the camp fire having normal conversation. Vax sat close to you. His new armor poking you every now and then but, you ignore it because you like the contact with him. Of course, you knew he could never take this off because his deal with the Raven Queen. You don’t even think that he knows how much he can… take of without something happening or being *gulps* cut of. Magic armor is dangerous.

In the middle of a small exchange with Scanlan, you felt Vax’s hand rest on your thigh. You gave him a side eye and he responded with a slight motion with his head. He wanted to go for a walk before it was too dark. You knew his queues by now. So, being the cunning girl you are, you got Grog into the conversation which accidentally (on purpose) made an argument between them about something dumb that somehow everyone else ended up in. As soon as the heat was off of you, Vax took your hand and walked of in the direction he suggested with his head.

You walked for a good 10 minutes before Vax finally stopped in his tracks.

“There. I think we are far enough, Darling.”

He turned to face you finally. He leaned down and gave you a kiss. You just giggled and kissed back,

“I think I know why you brought us out here. It’s been a little while, huh?”

He pulled away slight to lock eyes with you. You could see the lust and love for you run through his head.

“Of course it has. Everything is been chaotic as hell and you have been so badass recently. Finally, I can deal with this pent up heat you cause me. Darling, I would love to have you if you’d let me.”

He brought your hand to his face and kisses it. You giggled once again.

“Of course, My Love. I would love to have you.”

Vax gave you a toothy grin. He pulled you a little farther to the nearest tree and took a seat against it you. You took the queue and sat in his lap. You kissed him. Your hands locking themselves in his dark hair. He kisses back and set his hands on your hips. The kiss continued to deepen. He snaked his tongue into your mouth.

One of his hands reached up and made it’s way into your hair. The kiss finally parted. He used the interlocked hand in your hair to pull your head slightly back. He leaned forward and bit onto your neck. He proceeded to bit and suck on the supple skin. You let out a small moan. You felt the smirk against your neck as he continued down.

When he got to you collarbone, he released your hair. In return, you gripped his and pulled slightly. He growled out,

“Hey, are you gonna be nice or do I have to get mean?”

You gulped,

“N-no, Vax, Sir.”

“That’s what I thought.”

He reached down and grabbed at the hem of you shirt. Your armor has be taken off since the campsite. You knew it would be safe there so, you’ve been without it. You pulled up you shirt over your head and set it on the ground next to you. Your chest was now in full display to him. (With the armor your wear, it naturally cups your breast so, no need for a bra.)

“What a good fucking girl.”

You just let out a small squeak at the statement. The squeak turned into a moan as Vax took a nipple into his mouth. With the help of one of his hands, he played with your breast, switching between them. He nipped, sucked, and pinched at your nipples. All you could do is grip his hair and push your chest into his mouth. You, caught up in the pleasure, subconsciously started grind onto him. He could feel the friction through his armor. He kept his lips around one of your nipples as his hands left to join on your hips.

He pulled you down onto him. The pleasure increased for both of you. He could feel you through his armor, every little movement and pulse your pussy did. The friction of the engravings on the armor hit every friction need that you usually would have. Vax’s lips came off your nipple with a wet pop. Your nipples were now red and starting to swell slightly from the abuse that endured.

Vax removed his hands to reach down to his pants, he felt for and opening, anything that he could use get his cock out. He could only sit there for a second and watch his beautiful girlfriend drunkenly grind on him. Screw it, he wasn’t about to stop her to look for a opening. He’ll look for next time. Right now, he is going to get the both of you off. He grabbed you by the hips and started to grind up into her.

You closed you eyes in pleasure and arched you back. Your gripped his hair tighter and let out a moan of his name. He grunted in response and speed up. He could feel it. She’s getting close, well, he was too. He leaned up and kissed her desperately. You moaned into the kiss and turned it into a sloppy wet kiss. He felt like he needed to step the grinding. He moved a hand to caress the back of her head as he leaned forward to lay her on the grass. The kiss continued as he grinned harder and faster into her. The Vestige he wore increased his speed significantly.

You let out a loud moan of his name. He swallowed the moan. You broke the kiss reluctantly. Vax moved instantly to bite your neck. The coil in your stomach tightened,

“V-vax. I’m close. So so close.”

She desperately clawed at his back, which, of course, was armored. He growled. You knew that he was too. You arched your back off the ground. He quickly moved his arms under you. He quickly attached to one of your swollen nipples. That was all you needed.

“V-Vax-“

You didn’t even finish your statement because the tightened coil snapped. Vax felt how you froze and the pulsation against the armor. He ground down a couple more time before finishing himself, in his armor. And you, your panties and shorts you wore. You both caught your breath as you held each other.

“I love you so much, Baby.”

“I love you so much, My Love.”

After a couple minutes, Vax sat up first and grabbed your shirt. You thanked him and put it on.

“At least it’s dark, no one is gonna see my shorts. I’ll clean them tomorrow when the sun is up again.”

Vax chuckled and helped his Beloved up off the now wet ground,

“Yeah, but, the next question is, I can’t take this off… How the hell are we gonna clean my pants?”

You just giggled,

“We’ll figure it out, My Knight Trapped In Armor.”

Vax just grinned and kissed up before walking back in the direction of camp. You used your abilities to illuminate the surrounding area since the sun already set. You loved this man to death. You know that you would figure out something to make this easier for the both of you to get used to but…. what just happened… Wasn’t half bad.

I hope you have enjoyed this read! If you have anymore requests, I have an request post available. With that, see ya next post!

[joyful-enchantress]

I'm Dreaming of a Green Christmas | Loki x Fem!Reader

banner created by the amazing @springdandelixn

A/N: Hello! This is my FIRST EVER fic and I’m so excited to share it! I wrote it as part of the Winter Warmers collection that @lokisgoodgirl so graciously opened for contributions. I hope you enjoy!

Update: I wrote a companion piece to this! See how their story continues in Evergreen.

Genre: Friends to lovers, fluff, humor, suggestive thoughts, slight angst (if you squint)

Word Count: 2k

Loki Laufeyson.

The man of your dreams. Or, should you say, the god of your dreams.

Ever since he had reluctantly joined the Avengers last year, you couldn’t get him out of your head. The jet-black hair that fell in cascades, providing a brilliant contrast to the alabaster skin of his face, stretched tautly over sharp cheekbones and a chiseled jaw. You’d idly wondered if you could indeed cut yourself on his cheekbones – and what his jaw might taste like – and you were slightly embarrassed at just how badly you wanted to find out. 

Then there were his eyes – were they emerald green? Or perhaps ocean blue? You could never quite decide. Their gorgeous color seemed to ebb and shift just as much as the crystalline tides. Regardless of their color, they always appeared to be sparkling with mischief; glinting with the thoughts of his next scheme. And Loki usually wore some kind of impish smile to complement his twinkling eyes; you swore the way his lips twisted into those cunning smirks could bring you to your knees – not that you’d be complaining about being in that position…not for him, anyway.

Sigh. Your thoughts hadn’t even wandered below his neck yet, and you were already in need of a cold shower. Was he even aware of the hold he had on you?

Sometimes, you suspected that he knew. You were fast friends after he joined the team and moved into the tower, and not long after, you began to consider him your best friend. The two of you spent countless hours together – almost every free moment you both had to spare. Your time spent with him came with inevitable physical contact - innocent brushes of fingertips as you’d both reach for the last snack, warm hugs, and intimate contact while sparring. Sometimes, even, the occasional wrestling-match-turned-tickle-fight. Each touch, no matter the context, lit your skin on fire, burning with your desire for more. The conversations you had with him were often laced with innuendo; he’d make a suggestive remark and his lips would curl into a devilish grin as he watched the blush blossom over your neck and cheeks. 

But – you told yourself – it didn’t mean anything; that’s just who he was: a relentless flirt. He’d often brag of his sexual exploits back on Asgard (which would also cause you to blush and choke on your drinks), and it was clear that Loki Laufeyson had quite the queue of women at his bedroom door, hoping for the chance to spend a night of passion with him. Perhaps there was some mild attraction, but there was no way he would ever have genuine interest in someone like you. How could he, when he was so damned perfect? And you were, well… you.

Last Christmas was his first “Midgardian Christmas” as he liked to call it. You had fond memories of showing him the traditional customs – decorating, wrapping gifts, watching Christmas movies, drinking hot chocolate, and you even got him to join in on some Christmas caroling. Your favorite memory from last year, though, was when he showed you his apartment at the Avengers tower. You had been inside before, of course, but he was so excited to show you how he decorated it himself, using what he learned after you had dragged him along with you to help decorate every other nook and cranny of the compound…

“Do you like it, darling? Did I live up to your rigorous standards?”

“Loki…” you gasped, “This is breathtaking!” 

He beamed. “Well, I did have a masterful teacher.”

There was that damned smirk again.

“You’ve given it your own… flavor, too, I see.”

“There was no other option, Y/N. Midgardian Christmas decor consists of entirely too much red for my taste,” he remarked with a cringe. “It really is quite tacky. I’ve taken a more… elegant approach.” 

“But what about holly berries? Candy canes? Poinsettias? Red ribbon, even?”

“What was that song you taught me last week? White Christmas? Well in here, darling, we have a Green Christmas, take it or leave it.”

Pulling yourself back to the present moment, you chuckled at the memory. Of course he couldn’t stand to see so much of his brother’s colors in his own quarters. Loki’s room was immaculately adorned with festive decorations, and not a speck of red could be found. The green fir tree in the corner was spectacularly embellished with glittering bulbs of the brightest emerald, silver, and gold. White lights and silver tinsel added to the sparkle, and nestled at the precipice was a beautifully ornate silver spinning wheel, a symbol of his mother, Frigga. The windows in his room were frosted, even though it hadn’t snowed that day, and when you approached them to investigate, you noticed they were not cold to the touch. Loki had frosted them himself, using his power as a Jotun, and then used his seidr to seal them so the frost would not melt, nor would the unwelcome chill seep into the cozy room. Hanging in each of the frosted windows was a green wreath, each one complete with a golden bow and a flickering candle. His usual black furniture and rich, emerald green soft furnishings throughout the room brought the entire look together. It was warm and inviting, but also strong and dark – just like him.

Here you were, daydreaming of that Green Christmas last year, and the nights you would have liked to spend in his room… in his bed.

It just wouldn’t do any more. Being best friends wasn’t enough; you needed more. Christmas was all about letting people know how much you love them, right? You resolved that you would tell Loki your true feelings for him on Christmas Eve.

---------------------------------------------

Christmas Eve arrived in the blink of an eye, and you’d never been more nervous in your life. You had rehearsed over and over again the words that you would say to him, but you feared it wouldn’t be enough. Or maybe it would be too much? Would it scare him away? Would you lose his friendship, that was so dear to you?

Stop it. You could do this.

You picked up the emerald green box adorned with a golden bow, which contained your gift for him. You had gotten him a simple and elegant tie clip, made of platinum, with a single emerald inlaid on the end. It had made you think of him right away when you saw it in the jewelry store, your mind immediately wandering to the thought of him in his all-black suit and tie combo, with that tie clip displayed proudly against his chest.

With the gift box in hand, you began your pilgrimage to his private quarters, where you had plans to do your gift exchange. As you approached the door, the flutters in your stomach increased their tempo from allegro to prestissimo; the blood pounding in your ears rose to a deafening crescendo. You audibly exhaled, trying desperately to catch your breath, and your hand trembled as it made its descent to give a shaky knock on the door. Your body was a perfect symphony of nervousness.

Loki promptly answered with his signature bright smile and twinkling eyes.

“Come in, come in, darling!” He beamed as he wrapped you in a warm embrace and placed an innocent kiss to your cheek that set your insides ablaze, “I’ve just finished up a fresh batch of hot chocolate for us to share.”

“Thank you, Loki, that sounds wonderful.” You placed his gift under the tree, next to a slightly larger one that you presumed was for you.

“Is everything alright, Y/N?”

Dammit. You had tried your best to cover your nerves, but he knew. He always knew with you.

“Yes, Loki, I promise everything is fine,” you assured him with the best smile you could muster, “but I do actually have something to talk to you about, if you wouldn’t mind sitting down.”

“Of course, darling, what is it?”

He made his way over to the sofa next to you, his brows knitting together and his oceanic orbs swirling with concern.

Here goes nothing…

“Loki, you mean so much to me; you’ve been my best friend at the compound practically since the moment you arrived. You’re my favorite person to spend time with, no matter what it is we are doing together. In fact, even when I’m not with you, I find my thoughts drifting to you, frequently during the most inopportune times. You’re often the last thing I’m thinking about when I drift off to sleep at night, and the first thing I’m thinking about when I wake up in the morning. I can’t keep pretending any more, Loki. I’ve fallen in love with you; irrevocably, maddeningly in love.”

You were avoiding eye contact, your fingers twiddling nervously with the hem of your skirt. The silence was deafening. Was he going to say something?

Just as you gathered the nerve to look up at him, you noticed that he had risen from the sofa and was walking towards the tree, with his back to you. Now you’d gone and done it; he was completely uncomfortable, avoiding you, even. You stood up from your seat on the couch, and began walking towards the door, rambling along the way.

“I - I’m so sorry, Loki. I’m sure that was uncomfortable, and maybe crossed a line and I just hope we can still be friends, but I understand that you need some space and I’ll — “

You gasped as a strong hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, preventing you from leaving and interrupting your nervous rambling.

“Y/N, just wait a minute. You didn’t open your gift yet.” His eyes gazed at you softly as he handed you the green box you had spotted earlier under the tree. 

Your small hands shook as you pulled at the ribbon and lifted the lid, revealing the most beautiful gold necklace, with a single charm hanging from the chain – a dazzling emerald, surrounded by a halo of smaller diamonds. 

“Loki…” you whispered, “It’s so… it’s stunning, but it is too much!”

“Read the note, darling.”

You retrieved the small piece of paper that was placed strategically underneath the beautiful necklace, and unfolded it. You were greeted with Loki’s familiar handwriting.

Merry Christmas, Y/N. I’m so incredibly grateful that you’re in my life, and it is my highest hope that you will allow me to court you, and I offer you this necklace in my colors, as a symbol of our courtship, should you accept it. I love you, darling. xx Loki

Your eyes widened as you stared from the note back up to him. 

“I’ll take that as a yes, then?” he asked coyly, with an arrogant smirk.

You nodded furiously; it was as if you momentarily had forgotten how to speak.

With a flick of his wrist and a twirl of his elegant finger, you were wrapped in a tendril of green light and pulled across the floor, and right into his arms, closing the gap that was between you. Before you could express your surprise at his gesture, his hands found their way to either side of your head, his thumbs brushing gently against your rosy cheeks, and he tilted your head so that his lips could meet yours. The kiss was soft at first, your lips exploring each other gently for the first time. Soon, though, the desire you both were harboring became evident, and the kiss grew heated, his tongue prodding your lips, begging for entry, which you easily granted. When he finally released you, you were both panting heavily, trying to catch your breath.

“I hope that was okay?” he questioned, slight concern gracing his breathtaking features.

“Trust me, it was more than okay,” you quipped, tugging on the collar of his sweater, “Now where were we?”

Your lips joined in another passionate kiss, and your heart leapt with unbridled joy. He wanted you to wear his colors. He was yours.

Your wish for a Green Christmas came true.

[hazyaltcare]

Lucifer kin (DC) coming for another request. Wallpaper for a Google Pixel 3 (1080 x 2160) in aesthetic format.

Featuring Me, Rory, and the Detective (that's Chloe). Showing each of us in our beauty. Avoid hell imagery if possible, focus on the good of each of us. Chloe, she's strong... Strongest and bravest woman there is. Raises 2 kids alone all while working to decrease corruption in the police force, at least in LA. Rory is witty and fierce. She is talented and communicates far better than I ever did. She fights with the grace of a demon and swiftness of an angel. And then there's me, well that's hard to describe. I guess I'm ... I'm cunning, and I am trying. I spend my whole life working on being my best. For the people I love.

Not really themes all laid out like normal, but it's a bit harder to explain what I want here. Angel imagery, my loved ones, colors that show us, a reminder. Holding us together for just another blip in our eternal lives that we can't be together. Thanks for the help.

I'll do my best! It will be in the queue.

Mod Haze (🧨Tate)

[unabletoforget]

continued from here with @thestrongestmagic

     Jillian knew that she could not begin to understand what life in Azkaban had been like, for any of them. Rabastan had come home different than he had been when he had left, what little passion for life he had was drained of him and now he was a cold husk of his former self. In a way it worked in her favor because he did not seek out her company or come to her chambers, he did not seek to even speak to her let alone sleep with her. But Bella, there had been a passion inside of her that even prison couldn’t kill and Jillian was grateful for it. 

      “I would never pretend to know,” she said, leaning back against the headboard as she stared at the blanket that was draped over their waists. “And though you did not ask for praise from me and there is every chance it will disgust you...I am proud of you. You have changed from what you were before but there is still so much of the woman I knew in you it's almost hard to notice the difference in some moments. Rabastan...I don’t recognize him,” she said, slowly reaching down between them and taking Bella’s hand, bringing it up to hold it in both of her own and gently massage over her palm as she spoke. 

      “I spent so many nights wondering if you would remember me when you came home. I never doubted you would find a way out, be it with the help of our lord or on your own. But I admit I often wondered if you would look at me and have no idea who I was. If I would see you again and the spark in your eyes I saw so often when I came into a room would be gone,” she said softly. “I will never understand what prison was like for you...but you will never understand how happy I was the moment you looked at me again like you knew me.”

[deviated-detective]

📱

Send 📱 for five texts my muse didn’t send yours, and one that they did

[ Genevieve 🌼 ] Working with you makes me feel alive. It’s more than the typical work I’m programmed to do. I have a choice now but you make my systems overheat. 

Deleted: 7/5/39

[ Genevieve 🌼 ] I think you’re beautiful. 

Deleted: 7/23/39

[ Genevieve 🌼 ] The case is important but your well being and health matters more to me. Your stress levels have been higher than normal lately. Is there anything I can do to relieve the strain?

Sent: 8/6/39

[ Genevieve 🌼 ] We can meet and go to my apartment. 

Deleted: 8/6/39

[ Genevieve 🌼 ] I can give you a massage. My hands are well equipped to handle tension. In fact I am fully upgraded to 

Deleted: 8/6/39

[ Genevieve 🌼 ] Shit. Ignore my previous text. 

Deleted: 8/6/39

[themothyards]

Witch Queen Gothic

This is the best Destiny has ever been, IGN tells you. You play through the campaign, delighting in the terrible beauty of the Witch Queen’s mind-fortress. Savanthûn is dummy thicc, the internet says. Your Postmaster is almost full, no matter how many items you delete.

The Cabal are your allies. You murder hundreds on your first trip to Mars. No one seems to mind. Somewhere beyond seeing, Savathûn waits for you in a mind-ship woven of ghostly dreams. There is a temporal shift on Mars, but you have no time to investigate the shimmering fields of time-lost corn. You must find Savathûn. You hold X to activate the generators. Your controller shivers with pleasure.

You know the eldritch goddess of deceit and cunning from the Books of Sorrow; intimately, as though she is an old friend. You know about the countless worlds she razed in her brutal worship of the Deep, about her endless deaths at the hands of her merciless sisters and the violent retribution she dealt in return. You have been waiting to meet her for more years than you can count. She is your teammate’s waifu, now. His name is Savathiccness.

The Hive have Ghosts now, like you. You crush one with your bare hands. It feels good. You wonder what it would feel like, to have your Ghost crushed. You wake up, wondering if the Hive care about perk rolls. 

Sometimes, the Postmaster has engrams for you. You don’t remember where they came from; you don’t know why some numbers are bigger and some are smaller. One day you will be Max Power, in time for Max Power to increase again.

You queue into Birthplace of the Vile. You must kill Scorn; you must wipe them from existence so that you can get a new gun. But everyone has the same goal, and there are never enough Scorn. Stop taking my kills, you yell into the microphone. No one can hear you. You load the strike again. You hear the sound of Savathûn’s laughter—you are the vile one, now. 

You delight in watching your power level rise, digit by agonizing digit. If Only Legs Would Drop, you think. There is an idea of a thing called a Soft Cap, but it is ephemeral, like cobwebs in sunlight. 

You visit Tess Everiss the Tower. You don’t know why. You don’t have any silver. You have never had any silver. You examine her rotating stock, but nothing is worth it. Nothing is ever worth it. Beside you, a Warlock named Eris Morn’s Eye Lube spends a thousand dollars on a sparrow you’ll never see. You open an Eververse engram. It is a blue Ghost projection. Tess smiles at you, her eyes white with static.

You pass a Titan leaping endlessly off the tower on your way to your Vault. He dies a thousand times as you compare ten nearly-identical rolls of Night Watch, kept from the last time you played. Months ago? Years ago? The Titan’s name is Savasnû-snû. What is he running from? You have never used a scout rifle. 

The Postmaster is almost full. You have six Red Herrings in your heavy inventory. Some are red. Why are they red? You have to delete them. You have to make room for the Postmaster. You examine their rolls. Every one is nearly identical. You don’t know what any of the perks do. You try to read about them, but it is too much for you. You move them all to your Vault. Your Vault is full, the game tells you. 

YouTube creators have published years’ worth of video within seconds of the release. They long for a balanced Crucible. Fusion rifles are broken. Abilities are broken. Stasis is broken. You don’t have stasis. You have a hand cannon and a shotgun. You join a match in progress, and die instantly to a super. Your Ghost revives you, and you cannot tell which of you is more disappointed.

The campaign ends. You have saved the world. All worlds, maybe. But an even greater evil is on its way. It was on its way seven years ago, but it is even more on its way now. Its name is the Witness. It is powerful. So powerful that perhaps it can balance the Crucible. You return to the Enclave to speak with Ikora. Who is Immaru? you ask. No one answers. A hunter named Witness Deez Nutz follows you, crouching maniacally.

The new seasonal artifact is another object of inscrutable power, birthed in the screaming void between infinite possibilities. You unlock the Unstoppable Hand Cannon mod. You have no idea what a “Champion” is. You have never known what a “Champion” is.

Your old clan-mates are online, sometimes. You cross paths with them at Hawthorne’s roost. She proselytizes to you about the importance of teamwork. You purchase a raid bounty that expires tomorrow. You launch the Strike playlist, alone.

You have never played the raid. You almost completed the first one, once, when Destiny 2 came out. There are dozens, now. You watch videos about raid strategy. None of the words make sense to you. Step On Me Rhulk, begs the internet.

You speak to Ikora. Ikora tells you to speak to Eris. Eris tells you to speak to Mara Sov. Mara Sov tells you to speak to a parasitic worm. Your worm is a weapon, now; you can hear its labored breathing when you sleep. You dream of Savathûn crushing your Ghost between her chitinous thighs.

You open LFG, swearing that this is the day you finally play a dungeon. KWTD, every post says. You don’t KWTD. Perhaps you never will.

You load into Iron Banner; six freelancers facing down Clan [TBAG]. Mara Sov’s Hot Mouth, is the name of one. Savathûn’s Thigh Gap, is another. Caiatl’s Thong Sweat, is a third. You are mercied within seconds. A blue sidearm drops. Your Postmaster is almost full.

[asonofpeter]

More Than Touch

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader

Summary: Your relationship with Kaz is more than touch.

Warnings: slight angst but fluff

Word Count: 662

A/N: My first time writing with Kaz! Ahhh I had fun writing this and I can't wait to explore more with him! Let me know if what you'd like to see with Kaz and reader and I might write it! I've also updated my taglist so you can add yourself to the Kaz category! Enjoy! 💕💕💕

The moment you met Kaz, he never liked touch.

You never paid much mind to it, thinking that the way his hands were always placed on his cane was normal.

He was a kept man, you thought to yourself.

As you grew closer, you found out the tragedy he lived as a kid.

You couldn’t blame him for his fear of touch, you never did.

With that wrapped up in your head, you were shocked when he asked you out on a date.

Or rather…

“Dinner just the two of us,” he proposed one night after Inej and Jesper left. “We can discuss our next plan,” he stated, face stone cold but you could’ve sworn you saw the corner of his lip curl upward when you agreed.

It definitely was a date.

Surely you liked him, he was cunning, intelligent and knew how to get what he wanted.

That’s also probably why you work for him now.

It was two years ago that you met Jesper, gambling away some money your ex had. You figured you can cheat it off someone just like they cheated on you.

“You are seriously terrible at this, almost too terrible,” Jesper leaned back in his chair, rolling the coin in his hand as he squinted at you.

“Seriously, first time playing,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

Another round and Jesper had already caught onto your lie. He made you play fairly and just like that, you won all the money back along with his.

“Sneaky,” he nodded with approval. “I like you,” he pointed a finger at you. “I know someone who would like you even more,” he looked past your shoulder, your gaze following him and you were met with a tall man dressed in all black, a hat on his head and he held a cane in his hands.

And that moment was history.

~~~~~

“Kaz, you know I don’t care about touch,” you sat next to him. “I love you as is,” you said, trying to meet his gaze.

He scoffed under his breath, shaking his head slightly and that made you roll your eyes.

He never was the best at showing his emotions. But after all this time, you have gotten better at reading him.

When he was happy, his lips were more pursed, a slight curve in the corner and his eyebrows were raised a bit higher. When he was mad, his brows would crease, cheekbones more prominent as he was clenching his jaw. And when he was sad, his brows were relaxed, jaw clenched and his gaze always didn’t meet yours.

Just like now.

“Kaz,” you sighed, standing up.

“Why do you love me, we’ve been together for nearly a year and we haven’t even held hands,” he looked up at you for a split moment before dropping back. “I see the way you look at other couples,” he added, your heart dropping.

“I won’t lie, I do enjoy touch and physical intimacy, but I’m more than content with what we have,” you kneeled down in front of him. “I only want you.”

You forced your eyes to meet his, his grayish green ones burning into yours.

“I never want you to force yourself to do something because of me,” you began.

“I want to, but I-” he gulped, closing his eyes.

“I know,” you nodded, understanding. “You don’t need to explain to me,” you offered a smile.

You both knew that your intimacy ran more mental than physical. It was in the queues you had for each other when you were in an uncomfortable situation, you could read the other easily, the way you can sit in a room in silence with each other and not grow bored or awkward.

That was your love.

“I’m willing to try,” he stated, making your ears perk, your heart warming. “For you.”

His words brought a smile to your face, which he mirrored.

“We can start slow, at your own pace.”

~~~~~

Tagging people who seemed interested: @glowstick-lesbian @raylan-c @motherofdicks @unknownwritersworld @montsepliego @thedelusionreaderbitch @we-are-bloody-inspired @cinnabunsprincess @allegra-writes

[doctorofmagic]

Hey! I had a question regarding Stephen's and Wanda's powers in the comics.. Is it explicitly mentioned in the comics that Wanda is more powerful than him? Because I've seen people argue that Wanda is more powerful but they're only from the newer fandom who've only read the 'House of M' storyline.. Since you make extremely detailed analyses of charcaters and their powers, I could use your help ;').. Thanks anyway!

Greetings, anon! I'm making an exception and moving your question to the top of the queue because this is a topic that bothers me to no end and I'm always looking forward to advicing the fandom and telling everyone to avoid this kind of discourse.

I touched this topic before, specifically the whole Wanda x Stephen discourse and why people who fight over this issue are on the same level of people who waste time arguing about Thor x Hulk. In short, it doesn't really matter in comic books because that depends on the writer or what they want to do with said characters. Power levels are the most boring and controversial theme in a fandom so really, I wouldn't waste my time with this. I'd rather stick to the cunning and resilient characters instead. But if you're looking for a detailed explanation why, just check the link above.

Thank you for passing by!

[klaus-is-the-real-number-1]

The day we caught the train (Slytherin!Five x Hufflepuff!Reader)

 missvifdor said:  It would be for Five Slytherins with a Hufflepuff reader 🤗 they are very opposite in personality but they complement each other. I love Harry Potter and the umbrella academy, so i'm glad you write about both 😄 thank you,

A/N: this was like kinda vauge so i made up like a story line i guess?? Its kinda a mess and really long?? hope this is ok!! I really like these because i used to be obsessed with HP, in this i imagine Five would be from the really posh part of london where, the reader being opposites to him would be from a northern town and theyre both in sixth year which is age 16-17, i had to do so much research for this lol

Words: 2711

Footsteps echoed through the long empty halls as curfew rolled around, the sounds of students rushing to get back to their dormitories after a long night of studying and hushed whispering of passwords was not an unfamiliar sound at this time of night. Pictures were left empty as their residents wandered away out of frame and the castle slowly went to sleep, except for the prefects. As the sun went down, the prefects got up to do nightly patrols to make sure no students were up past curfew, each house prefect patrolled their own areas around their relative commonrooms to catch any wrong doers, not that they were many.

Tonight was your turn, patrolling the basement level and the kitchen corridor around the Hufflepuff dorm room, waiting for anything exciting to happen yet you knew it never would. Hufflepuffs always had a strong moral code and a clear right from wrong, every single patrol you carried out during Fifth year when you were appointed prefect you never caught a single person, now part way into sixth year still not once incident had occurred.

Yet, for some reason, every patrol you had ended up with a certain Slytherin prefect following you around, Five. Five was unusual to say the least, he was a well respected and slightly feared student, cunning and determined, he had a close knit clique of fellow pure blood slytherins, yet for some reason out of everyone in the whole of the castle, he had a soft spot for you. Even though he’d never show it in front of others, during the light of the day he’d sneak in side glances and small smiles, especially in the first few years making sure no comments came your way about your muggle parents or your upbringing.

Exactly on queue, a familiar sound of footsteps echoed down the staircase leading to you corridor only to stop short at the last step. A small ‘lumos’ echoed throughout the quiet hallway before Fives head pops into view, checking it was actually you there before a large smile breaking on his face as he walked into view. “Hey.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on patrol?” You smile to him as he got closer, crossing your arms over your chest.

“They know it’s me on, no one would dare try anything.” He smirks knowing he was right, striking fear into everybody, except you. His eyes soften and his tone became gentle when he was speaking with you. He’d always been like that, from your first journey on the Hogwarts express, talking the entire train journey up, secret library meeting when you both realised things weren’t as simple as just being friends. Things got difficult when blood ‘purity’ came into play, when suddenly you couldn’t be friends, which hurt.

The dimly lit hallways excentrated his features, his sharp jaw and high cheekbones cast shadows on his face and neck, yet his dimples still shone through when he smiles and breaks up the harsh exterior that he puts on. Stepping closer, you lifted your hand to run it through his hair, watching his face break out into a smile and wrap his hand around your waist. Small displays of affection weren’t uncommon between the two of you, only increasing through the years of being at Hogwarts. “I’m so glad you stopped gelling your hair back.”

“Don’t remind me.” He rolled his eyes, remembering his poor style choices of his past. You move your hand and run it down the side of his face and across his jaw, taking a second to admire him before dropping your hand.

“I’ve gotta go, my shifts nearly over.” A sad looking smile broke over his face as he slowly lowered his hand from your waist. “I’ll see you tomorrow though.” You say as you lock eyes with him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He repeated back to you. He smiled and started walking towards the stairs, just before his foot touched the first step he turned back to you. “Goodnight, y/n.”

Dueling was always one of the most exciting parts of Hogwarts, it was a welcome break from the immense workload that sixth years had to deal with. In sixth year you were expected to be able to cast non-verbal spells, a mentally challenging task where some were better than others. Over the past month your defence class had been working tirelessly on being able to cast successful non-verbal spells with the promise of having a period where you would be duelling, which was exciting for everyone involved, a chance to show your abilities and represent your house.

“I’m going to be pairing you up today,” Your teacher spoke to you all as he was stood on the dueling table, met with a grumble from the students. “With student of the same ability.” He continued, seemingly unaffected by the disappointed sounds of the sixth years. “When I call you out, both of you will come to the stage.”

Cheers and boo’s echoes throughout the room as students from different houses duled, light flying from wands as students desperately tried to conjure spells without speaking, some pulling through well where others barely being able to produce anything at all. Tension rose throughout the room as more people slowly got paired off, everyone wondering who would be the next pair.

“Y/n and Five.”

Smiling, you walk up to the stage and face Five, seeing a small smile emerge from his stern expression. Wands at the ready, you wait for the call to start from the teacher, already knowing your strategy. The air turned heavy and the room turned quite as everyone was ready to watch the duel, you were both the highest achieving students in the class and people were eager to see who would be the best.

Then it started, Five casting the first spell only to have you deflect it, causing a gasp to echo through the room. You knew it would be a risky move to cast a spell that hadn’t been taught, a spell that wasn’t even in the curriculum. It was the only way you had ever found deflecting a spell without having the spell hit your opponent, Five was stunned for a second before hitting back with another spell, only for you to deflect it again and again and again. Waiting for a hesitation from Five to strike and then you got it, a gap in his relentless spell casting when he took a second too long to think about his next spell. 

Before he could blink, he was thrown to the floor with his wand flying out of his hand as you hit him with expelliarmus. Cheers erupted from students interspersed with nasty comments from the Slytherin students, you walk over to Five who was winded from his fall on the floor. Offering your hand he goes to take it before hesitating, under the watchful eyes of his Slytherin clique he lowered his hand and picked himself up, brushing down his robes. 

“Right!” Your teacher stood up on the stage with you and Five. “Class is dismissed, remember to keep practicing these non-verbal spells.” Your eyes never left Five as your teacher spoke, you felt a stinging sensation wash over your eyes accompanied by a throbbing in your chest at his actions. You shook your head and turned away, unable to keep looking at him without bursting into tears. 

“I need you to stay behind.” He turned to you, giving you a stern look only to soften when he saw you in near tears. Slowly, everyone left the room, either going to the library or commonrooms to await their next lesson due to the early finish. Closing your eyes, you gently tapping the lids with your fingertips to try and ease the stinging feeling, you take a deep breath before re-opening your eyes.

“Am I in trouble?” You say as you sit on the side of the duelling stage, legs swinging as you play with your hands.

“Not exactly,” He sighs, sitting in a chair facing you. “Where did you learn that?”

So you start to explain, lying as you went, as you explained you started to immediately regret even casting the spell in the first place. In fourth year you were spending a late night in the library, trying to find any books to help you excel in your classes, you had piles of books in front of you and then one book you opened had sheets of parchment paper interspersed with the other pages filled with spells that weren’t on the curriculum. It was filled with defence spells, jinxes, curses and more, it had been your guide ever since you found it. This, however, was not what you explained to him, simply saying you were doing some reading and found it and were unable to find the book again.

You could tell he didn’t believe you, but sensed that he wouldn’t delve too far into your story. “You can’t pull anything like that again,” He looked at you for a response so you just nodded. “I won’t go any further with this, you can go.”

The rest of the day went slowly, doing everything in your might to avoid Five, you had been patient with him all these years and him not even wanting to let you pull him up because of his little gang looking at him hurt, it stung. You know he’s loyal to his house but after 6 years of always hiding and sneaking around you just couldn’t bare it anymore, couldn’t bare the fact that Five had let this wizarding class war consume him.

Post day was always fun, hundreds of owls flying into the great hall and dropping off post from friends and family at home, some received letters while others got large packages sent in. Bruce was your barn owl, he was large, brown and robust, he would usually reside on your parents farm, being well loved and looked after by your whole family whilst you were away but always knew when you needed him in the castle.

In he came, swooping down with a letter tied to him and landing elegantly in front of you. Petting him with one hand while the other unties the letter, excited chatter filled the room as most other people were doing the exact same thing, wondering what their loved ones had sent them. Carefully opening the letter, trying not to tear the envelope, your eyes scan over the hand-written letter, smiling at all the information that was written in great detail.

At the very bottom they’d attached a photograph of them all together smiling, along with your dog and a few other animals they all looked after. As you were smiling and showing your friends you felt it get pulled out of your hand; turning around, you were met with one of Fives Slytherin friends waving your photo around, calling on his friends.

“Ere’ give it back.” Getting up, you try and swipe it from his hands only for him to hold it higher, scrunching it as he did.

“What are you going to do about it, mudblood-” Before he could finish his sentence the photo was snatched out of his hand by Five, lightly tapping it with his wand and the photo returned to pristine condition before handing it back to you with a small smile.

“Behave.” Five said to him, pulling him away from your table and back to theirs. A smile snuck onto your face as you sat back down, Five had never done anything like that outside the darkness of the library or the nightly patrols, let alone in front of his friends. 

Then, very slowly, he started to actively integrate himself into your life, talking to you in class, helping each other with homework after classes and even sitting with you at lunch on a regular basis. Building up your trust for him again, building up your friendship publically even with all the snide comments other people gave him, he ignored them all for you.

As winter rolled round, snow dusted the castle and surrounding areas as if it was a cake getting doused in icing sugar about to be presented for a meal. Cold nipped at your noses as you made the trek into Hogsmeade, students rushing to buy last minute presents for loved ones before christmas break as well as a stream of students flocking to the Three Broomsticks to get their last sips of butterbeer before the train journey home.

The Three Broomsticks was so full that students were being turned away, it was bursting at the brim with some students even even sharing chairs. The atmosphere was buzzing with excited students, conversations so loud that you couldn’t even hear yourself think. Five and yourself had been lucky, opting to come to the pub first thing then doing your christmas shopping, finding a small booth hid in the corner.

“So are you excited to go home?” He was wrapped up in a hoodie and jacket, a discarded hat and scarf lying on the table, leaving him with flushed cheeks and tousled hair. 

“I ain’t going home,” You say, taking a sip of butterbeer. “I never have, I’d have to get the muggle train back north, costs around 100 quid each way.” You tap your fingers against the half empty glass. “Canny afford it.” 

“You’ve never gone home for christmas?” Sadness was present in his eyes as he locked them with yours but you just shrugged.

“It’s not that bad, it’s like, my sixth year staying so everyone is just used to me now, I get to phone home and they basically give me access to the kitchen and all the teachers who stay put on interest lessons and such.” A breeze caused you to shiver, wrapping you jacket tighter around you. “I also help with the animals.”

Upon seeing you shiver Five leant over the table to wrap his scarf around your neck before gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear; the small display of public affection causing you to blush. Once you’d finished your drinks you head into town, looking down the alleys for all the little shops you could find, looking for the perfect gifts for your family, asking a slightly unenthusiastic Five for a second opinion and just receiving a series of raised eyebrows or nods of his head. 

Taking your time to walk back to the campus, Fives hand had found its way into yours, swinging your entwined fingers as you went. As the large castle came into view a bittersweet feeling washed over you, knowing that Five and everyone else would be leaving for the holidays tomorrow while you stayed at the castle. Even if the empty hallways felt like home there was always a pang in your chest on christmas morning, even if it did ease off during the day whilst sat round with friends and teachers, it still made your chest throb.

Joy was evident in the great hall, everyone talking loudly and laughing with their friends knowing they won’t be seen for the next two weeks, an exchange of gifts and cards being passed around. Slowly, everyone faded out to the dining hall, getting ready to get on the Hogwarts express home, you passed around hugs and goodbyes as your friends left the common room, all of them leaving cards and parcels by your bed and made you swear not to open them until christmas day. 

All morning you were looking around for Five but were never able to see him and as everyone left for the station you were convinced he had gone. Defeated, you walk through the empty hallways to the great hall for the regular meeting where the staff discuss the rules with the rest of you who had stayed behind. You heard a voice call your name behind you, quickly turning around, you see him. “Five?”

“They needed a male prefect to stay on campus,” He says as he gets closer, grin covering his face. “So I volunteered.” Instead of answering you just throw yourself at him, embracing him in your arms. His arms instantly wrap around your figure, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Thank you, Five.”

[amerrierworld]

Cooped Up

Carol - oneshot

Summary: Modern day Carol and Therese celebrate Carol’s birthday in quarantine. (a little tidbit for the great CB’s birthday today; and for my own boredom).

Characters: Carol x Therese

Word Count: 1,155

Warnings: a little NSFW-ish

“Darling, have you seen my cigarette pack?” Carol called out from their bedroom, where she was rummaging through her nightstand.

Therese was pouring over emails in the office for a brief moment. Being a successful set designer now by the age of thirty-five, she too was suffering the consequences of the lockdown with all theatres shutting down. 

“I threw them away, like you asked,” she responded without looking up. Maybe if I start selling more photography prints, that’ll keep us going for a bit. Lord knows I’ve got plenty.

Footsteps approaching made Therese glance up. There stood Carol, in a set of comfy clothes with a plaid robe thrown over top, clearly annoyed.

“You said you’d take this chance of being cooped up to quit smoking,” Therese said softly, closing her laptop. Carol’s mouth was set in an exasperated line and she rubbed her face with her hand, blonde waves falling over her eyes.

“I know, I didn’t think it’d be this hard though,” she grumbled. “I’m just so bored all the time that it’s the only thing I can think of.”

Therese felt a smirk pulling at her lips as she admired her partner huffing like an offended teenager. Even past the age of fifty, Carol looked better than she ever had. Her figure and features never ceased to excite Therese and now with them being alone and stuck at home she got to appreciate it even more.

Therese stood up and straightened out her grey slacks, pushing her glasses to sit on top of her head. Her white collared shirt had enough buttons undone to showcase her cleavage and Carol, of course, eyed her greedily.

“That’s really all you can think of today?” Therese hummed as she walked up to Carol, a hand trailing down her arm. 

“If you care to remind me of how old I am now, spare me,” Carol scoffed, arms crossed. “I’ve noticed it simply by looking in the mirror.”

“You’re hardly old,” Therese said, wrapping an arm around the blonde’s waist and pulling her closer. “You’re just aging, baby. We all are.”

“Hm, some of us. You still look the same as you did when I saw you at that counter the first time I met you.” 

Therese chuckled as Carol pressed a light kiss to her lips. “Liar.”

Therese had made an effort all day to please and celebrate the love of her life, but being stuck inside made it somewhat difficult. The ongoing rise of the pandemic, lockdown procedures and the strange routines they’d fallen into proved to occupy both their minds most of the time.

Rindy and Abby had called earlier to wish a happy birthday to the blonde. She had only waved their praise away, and instead focused on hearing everything that was happening in their lives, because that would always be more interesting for her than to be reminded that she was yet again a year older.

Therese knew Carol was agitated with not being able to see Rindy regularly, who had her own place further in the city now, and trying to quit smoking. Plus, she’d caught Carol often looking in the mirror, pulling at the wrinkles on her face and poking at all the flesh and marks she deemed unsavoury in herself. 

Every time that happened Therese made sure to pull her to bed and love her until she was too exhausted to think. 

And now here she was, determined to do the same thing, by loving the woman she cared for so fiercely on her special day.

Carol had tried to turn around, presumably to head to the kitchen where a birthday cake with multiple slices cut out still stood on the counter. She squealed when Therese yanked her back, holding her tighter and nuzzling the soft skin of her neck. Carol’s hands flew up to grasp at Therese’s shirt and she moaned as warm lips began tracing along her jawline.

“You’re not old, Carol,” Therese murmured against her jaw as her fingers undid her robe, slipping under her shirt to trace patterns along her soft abdomen. Carol whined at the cool touch of her hands and huffed in protest to what she was saying, but melted further into Therese’s hold nonetheless.

“I am,” she grumbled. “I’m nearly a proper senior. Now let me go and taste some birthday cake so I don’t have to think about how ancient I feel.”

“Hm, fine,” Therese responded as her hands brushed over her lover’s back. “But do you have any idea what ends up tasting better with age?”

Her fingers toyed with the rim of Carol’s underwear.

“Wine...”  Therese kissed her mouth, “...cheese...”  her lips trailed to her pulse point, “You.” She bit down and sucked a harsh mark into the fair skin and Carol whined, hands tangling in Therese’s hair. Her hips started rocking against Therese as fingers slipped inside her underwear.

“Therese,” Carol gasped. “N-not like this, in the office, gosh we’re not teenagers.”

Therese laughed. “Bed?”

“Mhm, please.”

Therese smirked and let go of Carol, who straightened her robe a little before heading to the bedroom. As she was following, Therese closed the office behind her and paused in the kitchen to pull out a bottle of champagne and two glasses. 

The way they were celebrating wasn’t the most exciting or significant in any way (when Carol had turned 40, that was a different story), but they had learned over the years that all they really needed to celebrate was each other.

Now even more so. 

Therese entered the bedroom and nearly dropped the bottle of champagne as she saw Carol laid out against the sheets, completely nude. Her legs were spread and her fingers were gripping the pillows underneath her. There was that knowing, cunning twinkle in her eye that Therese loved so much, and she sucked in a deep breath at the sight. She could tell Carol was still slightly nervous with the way she gripped the sheets, but her confidence had returned.

No fancy add-ons, no sexy music, no toys.

Just Carol. 

And that was all she needed.

Therese set the bottle and glasses down on the dresser and approached the bed. She slowly undressed before crawling up to hover over Carol and kiss the tip of her nose. 

“Happy birthday, baby,” she said with a grin. Carol chuckled and brushed Therese’s bangs out of her face. She settled down in between Carol’s legs and peppered kisses from her collar bones down to her hips. 

Carol sighed above her and closed her eyes, her body relaxing and opening up to Therese, with every mark, wrinkle and spot unabashedly on display for her younger lover.

And Therese loved her with all her heart, and all the strength she could muster for the rest of her birthday, until Carol was gasping for air, sweat dripping down her brow and holding onto Therese for dear life, cigarettes long forgotten.

A/N: ahhh i know this wasn’t in my writing queue but i had to get it out of my system forgive me :3 Here’s a fic for all the Carol stans out there ;) CB continues to inspire me and make me fall in love with film/tv, and Carol will always be one of my favourite movies for so, so many reasons. I love Carol and Therese and will never get tired of their story. Happy birthday to one of the greats.

[thataveragewriter]

Markus x reader - Everything will be alright

A/N: Hey so this is sort of long with 2k words again, cant help it with these boys. Based the work on this prompt ;

“They were looking, but I didn’t care. I ran to him anyway.”

Slight Angst

The time of the revolution was a grueling and difficult time for both humans and androids alike. The discrimination faced by the androids was simply unjust and biased for the human satisfaction. The masses would often judge someone if they treated an android as an equal, it felt wrong on some many levels. At a point in your life, your views of androids correlated to the masses, they were nothing but machines. Whilst being Carl’s neighbour, you often times went over to paint with him and keep him company. Carl’s view of androids seemed to make you reevaluate and think differently about androids and made you have sympathy for them. That was when he introduced Markus, his carer.  Markus had a pleasant and soothing aura surrounding him, it made you feel at home. His gentle words made your gut flutter with excitement, the way he addresses you in a familiar fashion made you fall for the android. Despite the inevitable fact that humans would replace their human partners for androids, it was still a taboo topic to discuss. Which is why you hid the fact you began developing feelings for the android carer. Carl, being the wise old man he was, obviously noticed the way your demeanor changed whenever you would arrive and talk to Markus with a shy smile and gentle words. He had often encouraged you to manifest your feelings. Saying things as “love doesn’t discriminate, neither should anyone.” And “I’m certain you would help Markus understand himself better than I could ever teach him”.  You would shy away at these encouragements.

Markus had begun feeling a certain wave of emotions whenever he saw you. Your friendly figure would linger around him for prolonged amount of times which he thoroughly enjoyed. He would have a content attitude and a more vocal approach to you when you would come over. It would be small moments like when you would accompany him in making breakfast where the pair of you felt a connection. Moments when you would accidentally touch his smooth synthetic skin when passing the salt or when he taught you how to play the piano, you’d feel the soothing warmth radiating off him and a shock of excitement would fill your being.  

It wasn’t until that fateful day when Leo showed up unannounced to Carl’s house. You had accompanied the pair to the Charity Ball, in which Markus had whole heartedly complimented your outfit. In the moments leading up to Leo’s death, something in Markus had snapped when Leo had directed his insults at you.

“You treat her like your own daughter when you don’t even care for your own son!” Leo screamed at Carl, clearly frustrated.

“That’s because I don’t come crawling asking for money for drug abuse!” you defended Carl, anger stricken from Leo’s delusions.

“I wasn’t talking to you, you bitch!” He yelled and raised his fist as if to hit you.

You tightly closed your eyes, hearing Carl scream for Leo to stop as you waited for the impact. When you didn’t feel anything, you slowly opened your eyes to see Markus standing in front of you, his arms shielding him from Leo’s assault. It ached your heart seeing him get hurt for you. You instantly knew your feelings for him were real when it physically pained you seeing him protect you and getting hurt in the process.

“Leo! Stop it!” Carl’s yelled and rolled over to stand between him and Markus.

“ Markus, are you hurt ?” You touched his shoulder as a sign of comfort.

“I’m fine, are you alright [name]?” He responded looking into your eyes, emotions filled his whole form.

“Oh would you look at that, the bitch is in love with a plastic” Leo pushed passed his father to push and threaten Markus.

Carl had attempted to stop his deranged son but to no avail. You had also tried to pull Markus away but Leo would interject. It wasn’t until Carl gave Markus that one command which would change the fate of history.

“Don’t defend yourself, Markus!”

Who would’ve known, one simple command would be the cause of an uprising. The situation escalated, in which resulted in the death of Leo. Markus had realized his mistake.

“You need to leave Markus, NOW!” Carl yelled as he cradled his dead son.

“Markus, you have to run. GO!” you pleaded as tears rolled your down your eyes.

“Please Carl, I don’t want to leave you and [name]. I don’t want to go, [name] I can’t leave you” Markus desperately begged, tears rolling down his eyes as he fanatically looked at you.

It crushed your soul seeing the man you began to love get shot in front of you. It destroyed you internally.

---

You followed the revolution through the news networks, your views on androids strengthening at every movement. When the androids had taken over the news networks to broadcast their deal, you felt a sense of familiarity in the android’s voice and his passion. It struck you, it was your deceased lover, Markus. When you found out this revelation, you had closely began to keep up with him and his whereabouts. Of course it was damn near impossible, he had to be cunning and smart to survive whilst you had the advantage of being human and searched for him. Your search for him went unsuccessful for a great while, your chances running low as he became the face of the revolution.

Then, it was the day of the demonstration. November 11th.

The media outlet was present at the peaceful android demonstration, documenting history unfolding. You watched the TV closely, looking for any signs of Markus. You noticed it was being broadcasted live from the Hart Plaza, not too far from where you resided.

‘Markus has to be there!’ You thought as you got ready to run in the freezing night for your lover.

As you ran, the glacial wind smacked against your soft skin but you carried on.  With determination and hope of seeing Markus alive, prompted you to carry on. As you ran, you saw dozens of SWAT vehicles surround the town centre. Authoritative figures with heavy rifles stood guard, questioning any passing individual for their reason of being out late. They stopped you, in doubts of whether you’re human or a deviant.

“Sorry ma’am, its past curfew you should return home” They replied.

“I’m a reporter for [newspaper] I was ordered to document this” You lied attempting to hurry the soldier.

“Alright but be careful, there are deviants there” they said before they allowed you to continue.

The harsh lights beating down on you, almost a shimmer of hope that everything will be alright. You got closer and noticed a whole crowd of people. Your legs ached from the running but you carried on.  The noise of gunshots, flash bombs being detonated sounded throughout the space.

“what’s happening ? Why are they shooting, it was a peaceful demonstration!” you questioned, frustrated by the action of the soldiers.

“The deviants didn’t take the deal” someone had replied.

You push passed the crowd and came to the front of the barricade, safe from the commotion. From your stance you saw him. You saw Markus and other deviants cornered like animals waiting to be slaughtered. The field was littered with the bodies of unfortunate androids who lost their life to a caused they believed in. Markus had his hands up, a motion of surrender. A wave of emotions came crashing, feelings of love, fear and frustration filled your core. Your eyes welled from seeing Markus alive and still fighting for a good cause. The immense feeling of adoration took over your body and you clutched your chest. You feared for him and the other deviants as the guns were pointed directly towards them.

It wasn’t until Markus stepped forward.

“Hold on just a little while longer” He sang.

The other deviants followed his verse. The song struck the hearts of everyone in the area. It was simple melody that held a million emotions, millions more were evoked. Your eyes teared up at this beautiful action, Markus’s perfectly synched voice held so much passion.

“Everything will be alright”

This was your queue. It was now or never.

“Markus!” You yelled as jumped the barricade and sprinted towards him.

The look of shock, confusion and yearning filled his heterochromic eyes. His mechanical heart began to beat faster at the sight of your running form toward him. Markus began walking forward to you.

The soldiers were ordered to stay down, which allowed you to keep running to your lover. They were looking, but you didn’t care. You ran to him. Markus held his arms open, a tender smile graced his face as tears streamed down his cheeks.

“[Name]” he softly said as you launched yourself at the man.

His arms immediately wrapping themselves around you protectively. You tightly hugged his lean form and softly cried into his chest. His warmth became comforting against the frosty November night. You pulled back and stared deeply into his coloured eyes with a gentle smile upon your lips, he smiled back and began leaning in. His warm lips collided with your soft pair.  All the stored feelings of worry, anger and frustration melted away in the moment. Your heart exploded with immense feeling of relief. Markus was safe and in your arms.

Markus felt his whole being change. The immense rush of love, excitement filled his form as he deepened the kiss. He had never stopped thinking about you from the moment he got shot, guilt had overtaken him then. Now all those feelings were replaced by hope. Hope for a better future for all androids and human. A better future for you and Markus.

You pulled back, slightly out of breath. You reached your hand and cupped his scarred cheek, softly caressing with your thumb.

“I love you so much Markus, I never stopped thinking about you” you confessed smiling, tears stained your cheeks.

Markus leaned in and kissed the top of your head.

“I never stopped dreaming of seeing your beautiful face again [name], I love you for not giving up on me despite everything” He spoke softly, wiping your tears away and a sad smile visible.

“You made it, Markus. You’ve freed your people, I’m so proud of you” You say as you leaned up to peck his lips once more.

Your reunion would change the course of history, a human and an android fighting together for the freedom of love. You became Markus’s companion in the developing fight and agreement of the new constitutional right for androids. It was a long way to go but with your lover beside you, you could conquer anything.

[the-anatomy-of-revolution]

Character Building Exercise to help me gain a better understanding of Buffy, who she is, and where she came from

Buffy grew up in the 4th layer of the Nine Hells, Phlegethos. But more specifically her house is called The Hall of One Thousand Sighs and Screams.

She is the esteemed niece of Belial and Fierna, Lords of Phlegethos.  

She was born to a demon Mother (sister to Belial) named Ariamine. She resembles a tiefling, but is far more on the demon side. She never knew her father, and her mother never really talked about him much, so she never really asked.

Her family is really tight-nit. You’d think having Belial for an uncle would be intimidating, but he absolutely dotes on his niece. Fierna acts almost as a cool older sister, being younger than both Belial and Ariamine, and was always good for mischief. They all super care about each other. Its why Buffy never really cared to learn who her father was, because her mother more than made up for his absence in parenting, and she always had Belial and Fierna to help her. Friggin’ “3 demons and a baby” type atmosphere. Between all 3 of them, Buffy was spoiled rotten with affection and support.

As a young tiefling, if she wasn’t wandering the halls causing mischief, she would shadow her uncle Belial and ask to go with him when he would attend to business. Only on special occasions (and once she got much older) would he take her outside the Hall, but more often than not he would hold his meetings in the grand throne room, or in the war-room; both which had tiny thrones made for Buffy to sit in.

Belial, seeing her interest in the family business would soon begin training her in numerous subjects at the age of 10.  

She would be educated in such topics as strategy, deception, honing her magic abilities, and Buffy’s personal favorite, combat with a blade.

Buffy took her studies very seriously. She grew up in the shadow of such feared and awesome legends, and she wants nothing more than to make them proud. She wants to be as intimidating and fearsome as they are some day.

Some of Buffy’s fondest memories are sneaking to the kitchens late at night to eat sweets with Fierna, learning to play piano with her mother, and sparring lessons with Uncle Belial. 

Buffy was raised as the concept of Nobility (though they’re not technically nobility). Her education and purpose was to later help with the family business when she would come of age.

Family business = enforcing law (Belial’s) among st the 4th layer with an iron fist; making deceptive negotiations with other cunning devils from other layers; preparing for any eminent war with enemy’s planning to overthrow Belial; ruling the masses.

After seeing her work so hard, on her 14th birthday, Belial gifted her her true name. Being a demon/devil, these are HELLA important; names hold leverage, leeway, and can give power to those who would wield it against you. 

Miseraie-- Belial giving her her true name was a show of faith in her. He believed she was strong enough, and smart enough, to weild it for herself. Only the members of her immediate family know what her real name is.

She continued to stay dedicated to her studies. She’s basically a princess in training, but in training to become one of Belial’s council members as soon as she becomes of age. Like child soldier, but entirely willing and dedicated the the craft. Like she had to learn the more elegant things, but also most of the brutal shit too. She can play a mean sonata, and probably murder you without feeling bad about it.

In her studies, spending hours of time trying to read anything and everything she could get her hands on, she discovered books about other “worlds”. Different planes of existence which could be traveled to given the right tools.

She became enamored by the idea of visiting different places. She’d spent nearly her whole life in the Hall of One Thousand Screams and Sighs, and though she’s loved her time here, and loves her family, she cant help but feel like shes missing out. Missing out on field time, on gaining solo experience, missing out on life.

Though her family has always been super awesome, Buffy never really had any friends BESIDES them. Nobody wanted to associate with the niece of Belial, knowing what her was capable of (he favored Buffy, but he was ruthless with anyone else), so more often than not Buffy was alone.

She kicks major ass, but she’s still a kid who’s looking for companionship. 

Upon this revelation, Buffy shared her feelings with her family, and they were apprehensive at best.  They never chastised her for her hunger for knowledge, and in fact, they encouraged it; it was just that Buffy was still so young. Belial has plenty of enemies, on their plane and others, who knows what could happen to her out there! 

Seeing her determination, they agreed to table the decision until her 25th birthday. She would have until then to train and prove herself capable of withstanding the trials and tribulations that would certainly await her in a new plane.

Queue Rocky montage; Buffy trained harder than before, and with renewed vigor, and by the time her 25th birthday rolled around she was a renowned prodigy in Belial’s name.

Seeing her work so hard her whole life, Belial offered his dearest Miseraie a chance to continue her “training” in the field. He decided she deserved a chance to spread her wings and test the knowledge and skills that she had acquired and worked so long to perfect. 

Of course, she wouldn’t be going empty handed, or without his help. He would be with her every step of the way. Being such a powerful being, Belial can channel some of his power into Buffy from GREAT distances, lending aid to her as a patron of sorts (ding ding ding warlock).

With a tearful hug from mom, a fist bump from Aunt Fierna, and a kiss on the forehead from Uncle Belial, Buffy embarked on her newest assignment as a soldier of Belial, and future council member in training: integrate into the Material Plane, observe and be a part of this “world” as to learn the mental weaknesses of the creatures that inhabit it.

Equipped with nothing more than basic adventuring gear (they offered to send her with more lavish accommodations, but she refused in hopes of proving her worth without them) and her nerves of steel, she embarked on her journey.

The teleportation circle she came through was actually a summoning circle that was in the process of being prepared... she gave quite a freight to the cultists that were currently there, all of them running away.

She smudged the circle before she left, not wanting to lead any tracks back to Belial.

Over the course of a month, she bounced from town to town, trying to gain Intel about her new environment. She learned a couple of things:

Smaller towns still held prejudice to those who look different... or like demons. Most times she was run out with stones being hurled in her direction.

Larger cities were easier places to roam, the people there being a little more worldly. These people it seemed, were easier to corrupt due to their general dealings in vices. 

As she travels she continually asks people what their interests are, as to see patterns in people, and the similarities they hold. She asks this not only to gain insight into what makes people tick, but also as a survival tactic. Though Buffy grew up around gore and horrors, apparently they aren’t as well revered in this plane. If she can learn people’s interests, maybe she can learn to blend in better by mimicking them.

Through all the bullshit, Buffy ABSOLUTELY believes that she will be fine. She knows she can handle herself. Her ego and her pride (in herself and her family) refuse to let her falter in the face of adversity. She’s a bad bitch and she knows it.

Eventually she made her way to a town called Glennview, where she happened to bump into the rest of the PC’s.....

FUN FACT: I was talking to Madam DM, and I told her it occurred to me, with Belial being such a powerful character and all, that i was maybe picturing him a little smaller than he actually was... She informed me that in his NATURAL state his is technically considered a COLOSSAL in size creature (35′’ x 45′’ including tail length). But he does have the ability to shapechange to take a smaller form. Her mom would be about 25′’ x 35′’ including tail length.

the shape change is important because I imagined Buffy as a smol 5′’6′ ball of fire. So I figured when he was doing official Hells business, Belial would be in his natural state. But to chill around the house and be with his family, he would take a smaller (comparatively) sized form. 

[exilesofembermark]

Game Dev Update | 4.28.17

“You ate the last Twinkie...” - Master Dwarf Thisguy ^

We’ve waited to show more than a glimpse of the dwarven race on Embermark until our own hammers were pounding out the mass of loot we’ve promised in Dev Updates past. Now that the promised loot train is rolling, it’s time to really take a look at our stout, grumpy friends. 

Last update, we covered the beginning of our game mode experimentation, world map navigation, a Legendary sword and the ability to view your Battle History. This time, its about content and gameplay. Read on to check out our new icon system, new battle environments, new loot, an upcoming AMA, your chance to help design an item that ends up in the game and what we’re learning about battle mechanics. 

Oh, and dwarves.

DWARVES

Whether they’re holed up in the caverns and carved-out tunnels of Siege or feverishly rebuilding the once-great Anglon, dwarves in Embermark are a force to be reckoned with. Here’s an Elite version of our angry fellow from above:  

We started the dwarf-creation process exploring what we wanted the basic proportions, faces and gear types to be, as well as where they reside in Embermark and what their background is. As you can see below, Beardbo Grumperson IV there on the far right is a look we’ve stuck with through the representation of our Elite fellow above. 

There are a few geographic locations where the dwarves in Embermark tend to be found (though they travel and team up a bit more than dwarves in many other settings), and as mentioned before, the region of Siege is one of them. They’ve gone underground for the past several hundred years as Embermark was overrun and a terrible place to live, but a few ancient entrances to their underground lairs are still visible on the world map:

3D design proceeded much as all the humanoid races we’re developing have-- from the base player model, with some changes that led into a distinctly dwarven look:

And unless the dwarf in question has been beaten in battle to a humiliating degree lately, he/she usually has some manner of facial style going on:

We couldn’t resist this one:

And this one, with a better look at some of the tattoo designs we’re playing with:

I’ve mentioned the history and background of the wolves in Embermark before (despite my bold-face lie about there being no rats, bats, wolves or skeletons in this game). They’re a mean and cunning lot, with far more organization to a “pack” than typical. 

Well, this gives you a clue about how dwarves on the continent feel about them:

Depending on the proportions of our humanoid NPCs, we’re making versions of all their gear to also fit the player, for extra tasty drops.

ICONS

When you have a lot of lootses in a RPG, someone has to make the icons. And usually, artists hate doing it cuz there’s so many and it takes so long and it’s not sexy.

WRONG.

With Exiles, it is sexy (and so are you).  We’ve had the same placeholder sword/boot/pants icons in just about every screenshot you’ve seen up till now (like here and here). No more!

Because we aren’t satisfied with that (and hate sleep), we created a new icon creation pipeline that takes EACH design for a piece of loot and creates an icon for it. So for every item you get, you’ll see a Tier 3 (that’s the highest) image of that item over a rarity color (either nothing, blue, purple, gold, or green) to give your loadout that extra oomph you’ve been looking for. 

GAME MODE EXPERIMENTS

As fast as the content train is moving, the mechanics train is hurtling along just as fast. Now that we have most of the Abilities, Stats and Talents working for the Warrior and Mage classes, we’re diving into what will make the moment-to-moment gameplay the most strategic, satisfying... and visceral! To that end, we have our 4-Ability loadout that we’ve talked a lot about, but last week, we got a second mode of combat going-- The Deck. 

With The Deck, the rules of the game are still the same:

 WEGO-style turn-based with initiative determining order of ability execution 

Abilities combine with Gear & Talents to create effects on either character

First character to die (there’s no fainting in Exiles) loses

However, instead of a 4-Ability Set, you now choose 8. 4 are chosen for you randomly at the beginning of a Battle and the others are in queue. As you use Abilities, they cycle back into the deck and the next Ability in the deck becomes available (see the smaller “coming” Ability represented below-- that is WIP as is everything in these Updates, and it will get a proper UI representation if it ends up being something we support).

Initial testing has proven fun and maddening-- my main Mage “MoarMagicks”still can’t consistently beat SingmeAsong’s main Warrior “Jackal,” despite my clearly superior strategies and build-- and we have some work to do on what the mode does to overall balance. But it’s promising, and we’re excited to show it to you if it ends up passing muster. 

AMA

We’re getting ready to do another AMA! If you’ve got burning questions about Exiles, from features to rules to lore to whatever, join the crew and the community for an evening of anything goes-- even making fun of the devs-- we can take it. Submit questions/discussions now on the Reddit thread, and we’ll have some answers ready. And you can win stuff! We’ll be doing some good old-fashioned rolling (of virtual dice) for in-game prizes (loot table is forthcoming, and will be published on the AMA thread in the forums).

So head over to the Discord channel on MAY 9 at 5:30 PM Central Time and get the inside scoop on all things Exiles.

WE HAVE AN ANDROID BUILD

“WHAT?!”

Yes. MANY of our early testing sign-ups have Android devices, and I have some good news for them-- we have an early Android build! Now, before any shenanigans break out, you should know that it’s rough, new and not as far along as the iOS build. But it lives, and you Android users will be kicking arses before too long right beside your iOS brethren.

VANISIR 

Along the southwest of Embermark is a region called Vanisir, a mostly arid-- but critical-- piece of land, given its major port, resources and the presence of a manageable Breach. We’re rolling out Battle environments for each of our starting world zones, and Vanisir’s first can be seen here, with an unfortunate player sizing up the enemy that I can’t stop showing to you-- the overly intelligent and vicious WOLF. 

“Hey, didn’t I just see you atop some dwarven shoulder armor?”

THE PLAYER CREATED GEAR CONTEST (PCGC)

Players have been guiding us every step of the way toward Embermark and it’s time for them to get a piece of loot or two (or more) in the game. All of the rules surrounding battle and loot haven’t been revealed, but those of you following the development of the game probably have an idea or two rolling around in your heads about a piece of equipment that would do X, Y, or Z.

So the 1st Exiles Player Created Gear Contest (PCGC) is on! Check this thread in the forums for all the details and how to submit your idea. One lucky (and clever, and creative) winner will get their piece of loot in the game (and get a copy of it themselves) and many will win prizes based on the criteria you see in the official thread!

LOOT UPDATE

The loot train continues, and our artists are feverishly designing, modeling texturing and lootzing armor weapons and even rings now (rings are just icons, so they won’t show up on your person, but whatevs). 

Armor for the Warrior is getting the color-tell treatment, as we showed for the Mage armor earlier. You’ll see it throughout the system as you start to play, and it’s turning out to be both useful and sometimes hilarious, depending on the how close your gear build preferences are to your color preferences (did someone say transmog? *whistles as he walks away). 

Behold the Axe of Cleaving (your head from your body)!

You will see this spear put to good use by our draconian friend below.

I’m not even sure what to say here other than I wouldn’t want it connecting with any part of me...

We continue to design various silhouettes for shields, for those sword-and-board enthusiasts out there...

And here’s one more! (this one’s a stock broadsword, but I still lurve it)

MILITARY

Last couple of Updates, we’ve been showing off a race of baddies that will hound and hinder you throughout your journey to be among the Marked. Their political and military machinations threaten to overrun the entirety of Embermark.

They also look like dragons, have wings and are awesome. Now we’ve got them animating in the engine and will be playable in short order. Like the dwarf above, we created their gear with an eye towards dropping it for you to use in your own loadouts.

(Alas, I had to fool with this one quite a bit to get it under Tumblr’s 2 MB GIF limit, so if you want a higher quality look at this attack, it’s here)

REMEMBER

We’ll keep sharing details as we head into testing (remember to PM TheWizard on the Exiles forums if you want in on closed testing & beta later), and you can count on early impressions from the testers throughout our various channels.

If you haven’t already, follow along with the Exiles development on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook. And if you haven’t, I’ll find you. And SMITE you.

GET IN ON THE CHATTER

If you want to hear about the game, ask questions or connect with others who are helping the development team think about features, design and narrative, hop into the Discord Channel for live chat and say hi– it’s a friendly lot with plenty of daily shenanigans (there’s even a Shenaniganizer).

THE BONUS

I leave this here without comment.

[unabletoforget]

I Miss My Lover Man

@pranking-masters

     Jillian sat with her knees pulled up to her chest in the corner of her ratty old couch, watching the smoke slowly rise from the half smoked cigarette between her fingers. She had smoked a few times here and there when she was younger but she had stopped when Harry was born, wanting to think of his health and be careful around him. But with Harry gone and most everyone she loved dead, why should she care for her health? She had picked the habit back up about a week after James and Lily died, having been too distraught up until then to even remember what a cigarette was. Remus tried to talk her out of it, to tell her that Lily had been so proud of her when she had quit. Her response, as she had so eloquently put it on that cold November day, was ‘Lily’s dead, it doesn’t matter anymore...nothing matters anymore.’

     She often wondered if that statement had been part of why Remus had left, wondered if he had gone away because he didn’t think he mattered to her at all anymore. It wasn’t that she stopped caring about Remus that day, it was the opposite in fact. She adored him so completely, he was all she had left, but it felt so much easier to cut herself off from the world that day. Lily died, James died, Peter died...and Sirius was to blame for it all. And not only had he betrayed their dearest friends, put their god son in danger, but he had killed all those muggles in the process. If he did it at all. No, he had to have done it. The Ministry had been so sure of it, especially Barty Crouch Sr. Well, then again, he wasn’t all there, was he?

     Barty Crouch Sr was a man hell bent on revenge, though she wasn’t quite sure what crime had been committed to make him so hell bent on such a mission. He was a wizard drunk on his power and authority in a time of extreme chaos. Hell, the man had even locked away his own son under the accusations of having been involved in the torture of Alice and Frank Longbottom. God, that was an entire other can of worms she didn’t want to open. Alice and Frank were her friends, and even thinking about them or hearing their names made Jillian’s chest feel tighter. When they had been attacked she knew the world had truly fallen apart, since even the fall of Voldemort had not ended the pain to their people. Damn the LeStrange family. And to think, if her mother had gotten her way, she would have been married to Rabastan as soon as she graduated. Thank Merlin for her rebellious nature. But...it wasn’t that alone that saved her, was it? No, it had been Lily and James, it had been Peter and Remus. It had been...it had been Sirius.

     Jillian swallowed thickly and took another drag of her cigarette, a long one that lasted so long she was surprised the entire thing didn’t burn out. She held the smoke in her lungs for so long it made her chest burn, preferring the physical pain in her body over the pain in her heart and in her soul. She sniffled softly, another tear rolling down her cheek as she flicked the ashes off of her cigarette into the tray she had balancing on the arm of the sofa she sat on. “You were doing so well,” she heard from the corner of the room. Jillian tensed at the sound of the overly kind voice ringing in her ears. It wasn’t real, it wasn’t true, it was all in her head. “You promised me you wouldn’t do this anymore,” the voice said again, a flash of red hair catching Jillian’s attention. She turned her head to see Lily standing in the corner of the room, her arms behind her back as she leaned on the wall.

     “And you promised me you would be safe. Guess we’re both liars,” she said bitterly, watching as Lily sighed heavily and shook her head. Lily always accused Jillian of being the dramatic one, which was mostly true, especially when she and Sirius got together. But Lily was partial to her own form of dramatics as well, she just wasn’t as theatrical about it as Jillian and Sirius were, not even as much as James really. 

     “I didn’t do that on purpose. This, this you are doing on purpose,” Lily said, pushing herself off the wall and slowly walking over to the sofa before sitting on the other side, Jillian not hesitating to take notice of the fact that she didn’t feel the weight in the sofa cushions shift. “Jilly...you have to stop punishing yourself for what happened.”

     “I can’t,” Jillian responded quickly, not daring to look at Lily as she stared at the dwindling cigarette in her hand. “I should have been able to save you. To save James and Peter and Harry...to stop Sirius,” she choked out. “He was my responsibility, just like James was yours. I...I should have been there. It should have been me, not you.”

     “Jilly Bean…” Lily whispered softly before Jillian cut her off.

     “No! It's true. You were always more useful to the Order than I was. Your potions were stronger than mine, you were better with people than me, you were a better soldier than I was...you were smarter than me. And if I was smart like you, you would still be,” she said softly.

     “That isn’t how it works and you know it,” Lily said firmly, causing Jillian to glance over at her. She was exactly how she remembered her. A face full of freckles, hair as fiery as her heart and green eyes as piercing as a sword. She wouldn’t have it any other way. “Even if you had been there, you couldn’t have saved me. You couldn’t have saved James. And Peter, well I wasn’t there for that but if all those muggles didn’t stand a chance then neither did he, so don’t you go feeling responsible for his death either,” she chastised. 

     Jillian stiffened as Lily talked about Peter, his sweet face flashing behind her eyes as she slumped further into the couch. “And as for Harry...well it turns out he didn’t need saving,” Lily said. And even though Jillian wasn’t looking at her, she could hear the smile in her voice. “That little boy made it out of the impossible. And he is going to be the strongest of us all someday. And if you don’t quit smoking, if you don’t take care of yourself and get out of this hell hole for a little while, you won’t be there when he needs you. Because Jill, he will need you. He will need you to guide him and love him, to protect him and take care of him because his father and I can’t,” Lily reasoned. 

     Jillian shifted as if uncomfortable, like she was trying to curl in on herself to keep away from Lily because she thought touching her might make her vanish. “I miss you,” Jillian said softly, barely above a whisper. “I miss talking to you.”

     “We’re talking right now, Jilly,” Lily pointed out with a tilt of her head. 

     “You’re not real. You’re in my head...a figment inside my mind.”

     “Well, of course I am,” Lily said, her smile brightening a bit as she spoke, making Jillian turn her head in confusion. “But why should that mean it isn’t real anyway?”

     Jillian felt tears balancing on her lower lashes before shaking her head, laughing softly. “I hate you,” she said.

     “No you don’t,” Lily responded smoothly. Just like old times. 

     “No...I don’t,” Jillian agreed, leaning her head back on the couch as she watched Lily. “I still miss you though.”

     Lily smiled, knowingly almost, like how a mother would look at a child. “I miss you too.”

     Jillian watched Lily with an ache in her chest, wishing she could just reach out and grab her hand. Lily always had soft hands, she wasn’t sure why she remembered that. Maybe it was because it fit so well with her gentle nature. Just like how she remembered James always had the best hugs and Peter always had the biggest appetite. “Jilly,” Lily said, causing Jillian to look up from her hands to her face. “We aren’t all gone, you know.”

     Jillian sighed and nodded “I know. I don’t mean to push Remus away I just...it's so hard to be a person around him when I worry maybe he blames me too. Even if he did, he would be too kind to say it,” she pointed out.

     Lily shook her head “He doesn’t and you know it. You two need each other, you should call him,” she pointed out. Jillian nodded but didn’t say anything, almost ashamed to know that she was right. Remus wasn’t the only one at fault here, she was too. “And Sirius isn’t dead you know...he can still come home.”

     Jillian flinched at the sound of his name as something tickled her mind, her head shaking “He betrayed you.”

     Lily shook her head and sat up a little bit better “You’ve been in love with him since we were fifteen years old, you know there isn’t an evil bone in his body. It's just me and you here, you can be honest...do you really believe he did it?” she asked slowly.

     Jillian swallowed thickly as her mind fell back to every beautiful moment she had ever had with Sirius, every moment where he had ever made her feel loved and beautiful. Each kiss, every time they made love, the way he whispered in her ear, even down to the look in his eyes when they held each other at night. That man wasn’t evil, that man wasn’t heartless, that man wasn’t a murderer. That man would never betray his friends. Jillian’s lower lip trembled as she shook her head “N-No,” she admitted. “I-I think it just...it’s easier for me to blame him. To say he did it rather than to think he...to think he is suffering in there for no reason. To think you...whoever betrayed you will never be brought to justice.”

     “But do you still trust him?” Lily asked plainly.

     Jillian felt a sense in her stomach that told her the answer to that one clearly. “W-With my life.”

     “And do you still love him?”

     That one was easy. “Always.”

     Lily slowly smiled again and nodded once, standing up from the couch, as if she was going to leave. “Then stop smoking. Because when Sirius gets out of prison, and that stubborn ass will get out, he will need a healthy girlfriend to take care of him. One that will fight by his side to get my son back. It’s going to be a long road, you should travel it with him. I wouldn’t have traveled the road I went down without James. Don’t go down this one without Sirius. Or without Remus. Harry will need all of you.” Lily nodded her head once and turned as if she was walking away towards the hall, causing Jillian to sit up quickly and press her cigarette into the ashtray, moving it to sit on the coffee table. 

     “Lils!” she said hurriedly, standing up but not following her because it wouldn’t do any good. She watched Lily turn around, catching those green eyes again. “What if I’m wrong?” she asked. “What if I’m wrong and he did it and I love him still?”

     Lily smiled warmly, shaking her head as if she had said something silly. “I know you better than anyone. You wouldn’t love a monster. And you adore him. You’re not wrong. He didn’t do this to me. But he is the only person who can help you find whoever did. He needs you, and you need him.” And like that, Lily seemed to fade right in front of her eyes. Jillian felt an ache in her stomach as she whimpered, holding her stomach as she fell back onto the couch, curling her legs up underneath of her. She was crying too hard to hear the front door opening, and even if she had heard it, she didn’t think she would believe it was real at this point considering her dead best friend just came to give her relationship advice. 

     No, none of it mattered now. And as Jillian cried into the couch, her body trembling and her heart broken, she realized that at the end of it all nothing had changed. She was all alone. 

[theheartrobber-blog]

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