#yall asked for this post and now we’re here

[they-lived]

The Veilguard Post

I have a lot of thoughts about the new Dragon Age game.

Spoilers for all games and critical analysis below (and I do mean critical I have some nice things to say and some really not nice things to say) if you’re not here for that kind of content then keep scrolling….

Alright now that we’re alone, my beloved, I have some big thoughts about this game.

First, let me introduce myself as a Dragon Age player. Years ago I started trying to play Inquisition because I wanted to play my first real big kid game (I was like… 15 I think) but I was very lost so I went to my brother who gave me Origins and his copy of DA2 and told me to ask him if I had any questions.

I played over 500 hours of Origins - I played every origin, romanced every companion, played every angle and got every single stinking achievement the game had on offer INCLUDING all of the DLC achievements. I loved the hell out of that game and honestly still believe it is one of the best games I’ve ever played. It taught me how to mod! I love modding my games now and she’s the reason!

I didn’t love DA2 nearly as much but I still enjoyed parts of it. Honestly, if the game had ended after Act 2 I would have probably loved it just as much, I just feel like it doesn’t hold its drama very well at the end and truly if the Anders confrontation had more gravitas to it I would have enjoyed it a lot more. For context, I’ve only played her three times but I did help my sister play through all three games in their entirety. So to be clear I have played through romances for Fenris, Sebastian, and Isabela, and my sister romanced Anders (yes I did watch Merril’s romance so I do know what happens in that one as well).

Inquisition was my pandemic game, I played the hell out of her. I have easily clocked close to a thousand hours in that game between all five playthroughs because I was mentally unwell during the pandemic lol, but I digress. I played that game as much as I could, modded it to high heaven and unplayability frankly. I romanced Cullen, Dorian, Cassandra, Bull, and Solas (if I go back and do another playthrough which is likely at this point, frankly, I’m open to doing Josephine or Blackwall). Trespasser is an all-timer for me, one of the best DLC expansions I have ever seen, I was gagged, gooped, dead and deceased on the FLOOR.

All of this to say, my love for these games runs deep (I have a whole world in mind that I may one day bring myself to fully write but alas… Idk man shit’s hard). I wrote fan fic for this world and I cherish it deeply.

So… Veilguard… honestly, I was expecting it to be worse, I was expecting to hate it. I went in knowing it had been stuck in production hell for 10 years, had cycled through writers and layoffs, you name it, they suffered through it. But while what we got was not terrible… it was not great either.

I will say, I enjoyed some quests and some ideas in there. Here’s a short list:

The siege at Weisshaupt was a treasure, it even made me briefly enjoy gameplay! (I universally play on easy mode but this one felt smart)

Solas being inside of your head when you’re trying to get to Elgar’nan’s arch demon was dope as hell

All of Emmrich’s quest was exceptional, especially the ending was firing on all cylinders. Truly a great quest

When I got Lucanis romance it was pretty stellar (just lacking in content which we’ll get to)

Honestly, having my romanced inquisitor ending was satisfying for me. Really, I was getting the flutters in my heart watching it.

Ok so… now lets get into why you’re really here, the disappointments. In ten parts because I have too much to say apparently.

Let’s start with the art: I know some people love what they did with the art style and I will say I appreciate that they stuck with the style throughout and made the game feel cohesive… I still felt like it was too fortnite cartoon-y for what I prefer in a Dragon Age game.

Second: The companions… I feel like… I feel like this was ‘therap-ize your friends’ the game at times. The amount of times I only responded with ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘you’re allowed to feel that way’ or ‘this is hard’ was so often I genuinely wondered at times if it was the same sound bite being played every time.

I heard someone say that you can’t even be mean in this game and I-... they’re right… you can’t really be mean in this game. I can’t unsee it. And this is coming from someone who played a full evil campaign of Baulder’s Gate 3 and had to play a sixth time to cleanse my soul after being a meanie and feeling dirty about it… I believe being evil and cruel (or at least being a dick) is kind of essential in an RPG and I personally feel like you should be able to disagree with your companions and make them hate you.

I don’t recruit Sera anymore because she bothers me, I don’t love Merril or Fenris and I straight up hate Morrigan (more on this later) and Oghren, and the games before allowed me to be a bitch to them if I wanted to.

In this game I vaguely like my companions but they all feel like ideas and not people. I didn’t like Sera but she felt like a person, so did Merril and Morrigan - they’re people and I don’t like every person. My least favorite companion in this game is Neve and she’s not offensively bad, just a vague idea of a cynical detective who fights the man and doesn’t take anyone’s shit… but beyond that… nothing.

We spend a lot of the companion quests just kind of… walking around and talking to them… but I feel like I don’t actually learn about them. I think that half of my companions avoid this - Davrin, Harding, and Emmrich feel like fully realized characters with passions and history. Their walk and talk quests felt more immersive and like I was genuinely learning about a new friend and I enjoyed it but too few of my companions sucked me in this way.

Bellara constantly talks about how hard things are and how much she misses her brother (and also her romance serials which are my favorite interactions with her). Taash’s mother is the most interesting part about them and their arc is just not very compelling (or tied to basically anything else happening in the game beyond the Dragon King is working with the evanuris but I digress). And Lucanis… dear sweet Lucanis you had so much potential but they stuck you in a predictable story and gave Spite no actual substance. Also apparently Spite is a spirit of determination which I had to find out from Solas at the end of the game… like huh? What? Excuse me? Why wasn’t that explored more? That's a fascinating concept.

Who are these people? They’re just kind of… vaguely awkward, supposedly good at their jobs, and wasted potential.

I think that’s what it comes down to for me. There’s so much potential to have really interesting characters here. If you want me to do a deep dive on how I would re-write these characters let me know maybe I’ll do it lol. This post is already long enough.

Third: Romance full disclosure, I fall into the category of - I want my RPG to also be a dating sim - so this one I get is not everyone’s cup of tea… that having been said the romances in this game are really lacking. Not only are they flat or uninteresting there is practically no content!

I romanced Lucanis and I genuinely mean this - when I did get romantic scenes with him I loved them. They were sweet and tender but so few and far between it didn’t feel earned. I loved the scene after being pulled out of the Fade prison - I replayed it like six times. I felt like it was so sweet and so well executed and I craved more of that.

Watching the other romances it’s clear that this game lacks content for the romances, full stop. Everyone gets a grand total of about half an hour of content for their romance start to finish. And like… huh? Why? Dragon Age is known for its romances! Even the more surface level romances in other games have more going for them!

Sebastian’s romance is easily the weakest romance in any DA game and I think that his romance somehow still has more content that’s actually romantic than any of Veilgaurd’s… and listen I know I’m the rare Sebastian defender but his rival-mance (the superior option imo) requires you to challenge him and his faith. It’s interesting, it’s got substance and grit and is thought provoking… Veilgaurd doesn’t offer that.

I’ve watched all the romances at this point and it seems that - once again - Emmrich has the most content. Davrin and Harding are close behind, but all of them still lack true romance. Half the time the flirtatious option just reads as being nice and there’s so little pay off that arguing these romances are slow burn is dead on arrival in my opinion.

Not to mention that most of the romantic scenes are interrupted by something goofy or awkward. Lucanis, Neve, and Emmrich all have kisses that are interrupted for one reason or another and frankly I didn’t care for it. It felt like padding and I want my romances to be more present.

Fourth: And this one is big for me. Your choices basically don’t matter… like at all.

I need it to be known that my friends and I regularly call big choices in our DnD games ‘Dragon Age choices’ these games are hugely influential in how we run our DnD games. We love a morally gray, ambiguous, ‘things will never be perfect make the choice you can live with’ type of stakes. And this game frankly has none.

There are three big choices in this game - by my count - and none of them have weight or substance. The only companion that has one even remotely close to the other games is Emmrich’s - which I will admit took me all the way the fuck out and I genuinely couldn’t decide if we should resurrect Manfred or let Emmrich become immortal. I was floored by his quest in general.

Anyway, big ‘choices’ in this game are as follows:

Save Minrathous or Treviso

Punch the First Warden or talk him down

Let Harding or Davrin Live

So following my first playthrough I knew I wanted to romance Lucanis so I saved Treviso and I was initially taken aback by how fucked things were in Minrathous… except they’re not really that fucked to be honest. Yes the venatori took over… and yes the Shadow Dragons go into hiding… but you still have access to the dragons and the Viper - even infected with blight - lives throughout the rest of the damn game.

Like… huh? I thought this would be pivotal. In Origins once you leave Lothering you literally cannot return because the blight is beyond devastating. It’s horrific, blight sickness is so horrible that in DA2 you have to kill Aveline’s husband and one of your siblings either dies or becomes a warden, it’s so bad that nothing can be done about it. But the Viper just casually sticks around for the rest of the game and the Shadow Dragons can still help you in the end. Not to mention that either Bellara or Neve can be cured of the blight at the end of the game for some reason…

Can you imagine in Inquisition if you still got to hang out with the Templars after Samson absolutely decimates them? Like… that would simply not happen and I like that each game gets a different minor villain and ending based on your choices, it’s juicy, it’s diabolical, it’s interesting. It inspires further investigation and playthroughs.

I understand that not every choice can matter in a video game because then a game would just be impossible to play and that’s what DnD is for… but BG3 did just fine and they have dozens of choices that really matter (note I have clocked 700 hours in BG3 over 7 playthroughs including evil playthroughs). Within the franchise you have dozens of choices that really matter. Hell in Origins the Redcliff quest has about four different endings at least, depending on how and when you do it. We’re not asking for a lot, we’re asking for what is honestly, at this point, an industry standard for an RPG.

Punching the First Warden or not is such a minor decision all things considered that like… it genuinely baffles me that it’s even a choice at all because even when you knock his ass out cold he still staggers back to the fight and gets pulled into the abyss. Sure, you’ll see him later in Davrin’s quest and he can react differently to you based on this choice but there’s just… no weight to it. The Wardens still help you, you cannot lock yourself out of any of the factions, you can please everyone. Which I love doing in a DA game don’t get me wrong - but it’s much more satisfying when I have to work for a good ending where everyone��s happy.

I think of Redcliff in Origins or Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts in Inquisition, these quests have choices that matter and you have to work to make sure you get the ending you want. Saving Isolde and Connor in Redcliff takes work; getting the exact right combo of rulers in Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts, takes work. It’s not easily handed to you, you have to pursue it by interacting with the world around you and understanding what’s actually going on.

The Harding vs. Davrin choice is so cheap and I really have no other way to describe it. First, we have no reason to believe that this choice will lead to the death of our companion, especially since we’ve spent all this time making sure we level them up and follow their quest lines to their end. But that doesn’t matter, it feels like it was done for shock value more than a story reason. It’s not even really brought up again except for brief mentions in the Lighthouse before the final march. They’re also the only ones who get locked into this type of ending which makes it feel even cheaper!

Neve and Bellara can be saved even after being infected with the blight and no I’m not over it! It’s just a real slap in the face that Davrin or Harding - two of the best characters in the game imo - are sent to their death for what feels like no reason except that… checks notes… their idea was better in your opinion? They don’t even die on their side mission, they die WITH YOU IN A CUT SCENE. It doesn’t matter what you do, one of them will die and I wouldn’t mind that except… no one else is ever put into this kind of peril.

It also feels like no other choice I made up until that point matters. It doesn’t matter that Davrin and I chose to release the Griffons to forge a new path, it doesn’t matter that Harding chose forgiveness instead of being consumed by the rage of her ancestors. It doesn’t matter that we helped the gray wardens or that I asked Harding about the inquisition or that I took them on any number of side quests, it doesn’t matter if you romance them.

You just pick which of them you don’t mind finishing the game without and that’s that. It’s grinding my gears the more I think about it so let's move on.

Fifth: The Morrigan of it all… Okay, full disclosure, I’m a Morrigan hater. I find her romance in Origins gross, I think it’s stupid she became an advisor to the Orlesian Empress in Inquisition (homegirl was raised in a swamp, what do you MEAN she’s an advisor to the Empress!?!?), and I hate that her solution to your problems is trust me intrinsically and also let me have sex with someone who expressly does not want to. BUT I truly did enjoy the Mythal lore and Morrigan becoming Mythal is interesting.

Just one itsy-bitsy problem is that I just spent three whole games spanning in-game decades trying to make sure this didn’t fucking happen. And yet, here we are, with this… happening. Ooooo Bioware when I catch you it’s on SIGHT. Not only does this make everything else you did with her feel like a colossal waste of time… it ultimately feels like nothing mattered. Who cares if I spent two in game decades handing Morrigan her own autonomy on a silver platter? Who cares that I did everything in my power to make sure she could do what she wanted instead of bending to the whims of her abusive mother?

Ignoring the fact that apparently Morrigan and Isabela (who are both easily in their 50s at this point, remember how Wynne was barely cresting 50 and the game treated her like she was a granny?) haven’t aged a day cause I guess women can’t age… did anything I do matter? We get a weird vague line from Isabela about family and Morrigan seems to think she and the inquisitor are besties… which they are reluctant allies at best in most playthroughs I’ve seen and played. And oh by the way, that kid she maybe had, that could be an elder god? Yeah he either doesn’t exist or she’s an absent parent whoopsie.

Sixth: The lore… I understand this game is trying to take the world in a new direction but this was not the way to do it. We could have gotten a better shot at a DA2 type of game. A smaller, more contained story but they went scorched earth with so much that it feels… like a huge let down.

Not to mention that as a recovering catholic I loved the lore of the Chantry. I loved dissecting the intricacies of a huge religious institution that has good people but a rotten core. Examining faith and how sinister it is when institutions get a hold of something that imbues so much meaning into people's daily lives was genuinely cathartic for me. And this game basically tells you that the chantry is wrong and to go fuck yourself because it doesn’t matter and it never did. It takes away so much nuance and realism within its own lore (not to mention they just hand wave it off when Harding rightfully brings this up as an earth shattering moment for her. What a weird thing to ignore). The answer is Elves, if you have a question the answer is elves, and I’m sorry I don’t love that answer. I’d rather have no answer, I’d rather be able to draw my own conclusions.

I love how nuanced and messy the lore of Thedas is, personally. I loved learning about how twisted the Qun is and how fucked Antiva is and that Ferelden is no better. I found it so fascinating no one place is good and just. They really did some revisionist history with Tevinter and especially the Crows (this game had one too many freedom fighter groups for my liking but I digress). All interest, morally gray intrigue, and nuance was sapped out of the world. All the bad guys are venatori or antaam, all the answers are Elves did it, and it feels so… devoid of intrigue. It was such a let down.

At no time did I ever feel conflicted about what I was doing, at no time did things ever make me question if I was doing the right thing. I never even really had to think very hard about what I was doing because most choices were pretty benign, like I could do no wrong, like I was being spoonfed my heroism. I didn’t have to think, for the most part, and that makes me sad.

Seventh: Varric… oh Varric… my sweet beloved child they did that to you didn’t they? I don’t inherently have a problem with Varric dying, honestly I don’t. The execution, however (pun intended), was garbage. I echo what others have said… why is Varric the one chasing after Solas? Varric was close to everyone in the inquisition, sure, but I’m not sure he and Solas were besties.

If Cole were the one going after Solas I’d get it. If it were Bull going after Solas to beat the shit out of him, I’d get it. If it was Dorian going after him because he’s the closest in proximity I’d get it… but Varric being the one to try talking him down ‘because he’s my friend!’ is frankly, bad writing. I feel like the team wanted to send him off but this was not it fam. Varric does love his friends this deeply… but for Solas it feels wrong and weird and (dare I say it?) out of character.

Honestly, if they had him actually be alive in the Lighthouse and being that mentor figure I would have much preferred it. I could have overlooked the narrative wonky-ness if Varric had lived… but him being dead pissed me off. I can't even lie about it. It felt like shock value for shock value’s sake and I hated it.

It feels like we should have been with the Inquisitor tracking Solas down or at least hired by them… but instead we get dead Varric and no substance… awesome.

Eighth: The God’s Prison… of all the weird retconn-y odd narrative choices that were made this one irks me the most… just… the very concept of Solas and the other gods not being able to get themselves out of the Fade prison but you can is so… just dumb honestly. I think, in theory, the idea that you have to work through your regrets to release yourself from that prison is actually really interesting… but here’s the problem with that:

Solas did work through his regrets and he has been able to let go at least somewhat. He knows what he did was wrong and he wants to change… He’s just the king of over correction lol. I just find it laughable that you can get out of this supposedly impenetrable prison but no elven god can because they’re too proud. Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain I can buy, but Solas I simply don’t buy it. It’s just… I don’t know, truly laughable is the only word I can use to describe it.

You’re telling me that Solas - who learned about the power of friendship and individual autonomy all throughout Inquisition - hasn’t learned to navigate his regret? Solas who can look romanced quizzie dead in the eye and tell her ‘I love you, you taught me so much about this world and I am still learning. I’m going to end this. I’m going to fix my mistakes. I’m going to make the world better.’ hasn’t had to grapple with what he’s done? Are y’all for real Bioware?

Ninth: Solas… Solas, Solas, Solas, my sweet summer child, you are the biggest case study of missed opportunity that I see in this game. I think he was severely underutilized, talking to him, his memories, and just having him around was genuinely the best part of this game for me. I love him fighting with Elgar’nan in my head, I love him being saucy with me in my dreams, and the romanced quizzy ending is cannon to me. But he just wasn’t present enough! He felt like a vague threat but I also… I also don’t really think this game did enough to make him a threat.

In Trespasser I genuinely feared this man, I thought ‘oh fuck we aren’t going to be able to stop him easily’ but then he is just… so easily taken out it’s laughable.

I think this game’s biggest flaw is that we get no build up to Solas as Rook. This game relies on the fact that you know Solas from Inquisition but then we don’t even really get that Solas (see bad ending where he calls himself a god oh Bioware I am in your YARD he would never say that). If we spent the whole game trying to find him, gathering allies, looking for clues only to meet him at the end and triumph by sealing him away… only to find out we released the evanuris into the world (obvious sequel bait is obvious but hey games do what they must) that would have been dope as hell!

I feel like the writers of this game felt like they had to deliver a sequel when honest to goodness I think it would have been much better if they didn’t. I think if this game had been divorced from the main series and truly had an independent story it could have been great. I keep saying if this game was a precursor to the ‘let’s take down Solas’ game it would have been epic. If this game introduced us to Rook and co, then at the end we meet the inquisitor and they’re like, “Hey losers do you wanna save the world!?” That would have been so cool.

But at the end of the day it IS a sequel and it’s a bad sequel. I truly like this game when it’s not trying to follow up Inquisition, but as a sequel it fails at every hurdle. Solas is a fascinating villain, he is a character I adore and really find interesting, compelling, tragic, and downright terrifying. And they didn’t use him to his fullest extent at all.

In theory - Rook is Solas’s foil. We get to accomplish what he couldn’t, saving the world and all that… but Rook and Solas are not actually parallels, their life experiences and their goals are nowhere near aligned enough to make this argument. If Solas were really watching us become him or if we saw ourselves becoming Solas that would have been interesting. Instead, Solas points out our similarities ‘you’re willing to do whatever it takes’ or ‘you’ve got fire and passion to do the right thing’ or ‘you do what’s right and say fuck the man when you need to’ but our reasons feel achingly hollow compared to his. We are not the same. So him thanking us at the end of the game feels out of place. He should be thanking the inquisitor for coming back to him - because really she is the one who saves him. Her love saves him, Rook just bought her time to get to him.

What sucks is that Solas is so endlessly interesting to me. This is a character that created this world and he regrets it. Can you imagine a god that regrets their creation? That idea has me physically unwell and they squandered it.

Tenth: The thesis of this game. Now let me start off by saying, not all games NEED a thesis. But some of them have them regardless and the Dragon Age games like having something to say. So bear with me while I opine about a very watered down thesis for each game. And it could be argued these games have multiple or different ones than I present but this is my hear me out post, get your own, lol.

Origins poses the question ‘how far will you go to save the world?’ We are constantly asked to do morally dubious things to save the world. Do we recruit slave labor from the Golems for a better army? Do we save the Circle mages or do we let the templars slaughter them? Do we recruit Loghain as a gray warden knowing the crimes he has committed? Do we let Morrigan conceive a god baby to save our own life? These questions are answered by our choices and it makes this game interesting. It makes each Hero of Ferelden different and it makes our choices matter, people we meet and grow to care for live or die by our decisions and it makes the player feel important.

DA2’s thesis is ‘we are the product of our circumstances’. DA2 is, at its heart, a tragedy, people are victims of their circumstances, including Hawke. No matter what we do, we lose our siblings and our mother to circumstances beyond our control, with or without our heroism. No matter what we do the qunari will rampage through the city. No matter what we do the chantry is destroyed and we must side with the templars or mages. Yet, in spite of the horror, Hawke can choose how they respond to their situation. We get to choose to be kind or brutal, we can choose to seek justice or be pulled through it kicking and screaming. We are dealt a shit hand at every turn, what we choose to do with it matters.

Inquisition’s thesis is ‘how do we forgive in the face of corruption?’ Every organization we meet in Inquisition is corrupt as fuck. They are terrible, they treat others without dignity or care, they spit in the face of decency but WE can change that. We as the player can step in and be the change we want to see in the world, literally. We can beat back corruption and evil with compassion and understanding… or you know, we can make them worse, because Inquisition gives you the option to be a dick if you want. We are tasked with saving the world and we can either be selfish about it like every other organization we encounter or we can be the altruistic light in the darkness - the dawn in an otherwise bleak future.

It feels like the thesis of Veilguard is ‘you can’t do anything alone’ when it should have been ‘what are you willing to sacrifice for the greater good’ or even better ‘it is easy to become the very thing you fought against’.

We spend the whole game watching how Solas made the hard choices in a losing fight, that he became something he never wanted to be because all he saw was the end result and not what was being lost along the way. Solas was a good leader, Solas had people fighting with him, and Solas was not afraid to make sacrifices for the greater good. Which would have been fascinating if we - Rook - had any hard choices to make at all and could relate to that.

We tread dangerously close to something great in this vein, the idea that we can be good leaders, get the job done, and do minimal harm - but it is done in such a way that it is made seriously unrealistic and uninteresting. We get through mostly unscathed with minimal losses that we care about beyond the vague answer of ‘normal people died/got hurt’ but we never really see that (don’t get me started on the mourning scene in the final battle, I was surrounded by sheets? I can only assume if your friends died you’d see their faces but mine didn’t soooooo). We are a better leader than Solas by virtue of our situations being significantly different. We are facing a known foe, with a clear cut way to beat them, allies who help us with minimal persuasion, and no insurmountable problems. He didn’t have any of that, he led a grassroots rebellion with basically only slaves and spirits to help him against people who were doing things he’d never seen before. The difference is just… they’re incomparable.

Can you imagine if we really had to face the idea that we are becoming the very thing we sought to destroy? Can you imagine the slow, creeping realization that we are just like Solas. If we had to sacrifice one or two or even more of our faction alliances to proceed through the game? If there were actual STAKES!?! If Solas saw us as his equal or another incarnation of himself? If he saw us going down the same path he did and it sparks empathy in him? If he wanted us to actually succeed because he has learned to see the good in this messy creation of his?

The DA games are - at their core - about sacrifice, what you are willing to give up for the greater good? In these games, the goal is to save the world, so how will you fight for it? We have nothing to fight for here because it’s not really a fight at all.

This idea that you can’t do anything alone is nice… but being alone is never an option for us. Solas puts himself in exile, Solas is alone but Rook never is. It’s not an option not to recruit your companions, you have to. It’s not an option to turn any of them away or to have them leave your party, and they’ll always love you if you do the bare minimum for their quests. The only time they ‘leave you’ is if they die but that’s not until the very absolute end, and even then they die in service of you - you are not ever alone in this fight.

If this game wanted to say something about how our people make us better we should have been met with a point in the game where we are alone. Fade prison doesn’t count because really nothing happens there; it's all cerebral internalized shit and you’re pulled out of it relatively quickly. We should have been hit with the idea that without our people - the bonds we choose and those we love - we are nothing and we were never faced with that potential reality.

In addition… Solas had people. He had Mythal and Felassan and he trusted them so intrinsically it became a part of his downfall. If he was your friend or lover in Inquisition he is a ride or die, he cares deeply for you and your team - so much so, he leaves because he sees himself as a danger to you. He’s only alone now because he chose to be alone… should we not also parallel this? Should we not also feel more bound to Solas because we see ourselves in him? We keep saying we’ll do ‘whatever it takes’ but it only takes the minimum to get the damn job done. We get to take the path of least resistance constantly, we get to be a hero with little to no losses that we see or care about - and perhaps this is because I did completionist this game and worked for it… but I didn’t ever feel like I had to work particularly hard.

This game ultimately fails because what it’s trying to say has no weight, what it’s trying to dictate to us is just said and never shown. We are not treated as an active participant in this narrative, we are just a consumer and I find it offensive that it was touted as an RPG when there’s minimal roleplay in the game.

In conclusion, your honor, this game is not a disappointment because I wanted Inquisition 2 - this game is a disappointment because it doesn’t say anything worthwhile. It presents ideas that, on their face, are good but never delves into them, it saps nuance out of an otherwise lively incredibly lore rich world, and it ultimately takes power away from the player to service a story that no longer wants to affiliate itself with its predecessors. Which is a damn shame because what came before it has so many interesting and thought provoking ideas this world could have built itself upon and chose to disregard.

If they wanted a relaunch, that’s fine… divorce yourself from ALL the games if that’s the case. Tell a smaller story, go back in the timeline before any other game, do anything else.

I will still probably play future Dragon Age games (because the track record is now the odd numbered games are good, the even numbered games are less good). I can find the good in these games despite my disappointment. But this game is still just that to me, a disappointment, end rant.

[spidehpig]

umm i cant dm your twitter and i cant for the life of me find your thread on you being like a fresh recruit and soap getting a dubcon handjob from you do you mind linking it lol

omg that was actually my friend marina who posted the new recruit dubcon handjob thread 😩 they’ve deactivated recently but i think should be back eventually and i can totally link the thread once marina is back

[neon-danger]

To be less rude about that anon, I have said quite a few times now that I will not be writing a milk fic

For one thing, it’s against my rules and I expect you as readers to respect that, but also the original creator of the milk fic is just all around Bad.

While I don’t think the actual contents of the milk fic are bad or problematic, I do not want my name associated with the milk fic, the writer, or their reputation.

There’s nothing wrong with enjoying that sort of content, and I have absolutely no judgement in that regard, but it’s kinda not cool for people to continue asking after I’ve said no A Few Times Now

Consent is a big thing in a lot of my fics, and I expect you as readers to know that No Means No, not ask again later.

[shouyuus]

─── Ⅵ FIGURE EIGHTS

violet; 28,888 words; fluff and smut (at the end), semi enemies to lovers, fake dating, hockey!vi x figure skater!reader, ice dancers!meljayce, miscommunication, smau-intermissions, toxic ex!cait, simpgirl!vi, slowburn, the gays r bad at feelings, lots of making out that almost leads to something, emotional edging (for YOU lol), fingering (both receiving), thigh riding, oral (r!receiving), slightly unhinged!reader, no "y/n"

summary: a hockey player and a figure skater kind of, sort of, not really, but then actually fall in love. what could possibly go wrong? (narrator: apparently, everything.)

a/n: YALL. yall. YOU. ALL. lmfao. i can't believe i finished this (i say, after writing any fic longer than 5k words). but i TRULY doubted for a second that i would bc as i kept writing, it kept... getting longer? i hope that this doesn't drag, and that you guys like it. it's really a fucking labor of love. like heavy emphasis on the labor. shoutout to @vifilms for being my emotional support, and to my irl bf for actually physically reading through like 90% of this fic out LOUD with me to make sure the dialogue doesn't sound awk. BUT ANYWAYS. pls enjoy and PLS tell me what u guys think!!!! the smau fake texts won't start till chapter three, but ! it's my first time making like.. fake texts so sldkfjsd.

TABLE OF CONTENTS ━

prologue: party people

chapter one: shut up and kiss me

chapter two: fists to a knife fight

chapter three: love's dream

chapter four: for cup's sake

chapter five: don't hate the player (suggestive)

chapter six: six (nsfw)

─── TAG YOU'RE IT .ᐟ.ᐟ

pls comment below if you'd like to be tagged for this series! :) if you're already on my vi-taglist via my normal taglist link, then you're all good. if you only wanna be tagged for this series, comment below! pls pls have your age visible somewhere on your blog as this will be an 18+ fic!!!! thank you!!!

prologue: party people

─── Ⅵ IT STARTS WITH A GAME of spin the bottle — a college party post-game, the home team the exhalant victors, the crowds of adoring fans the worshippers at their beer-tower altars, doing keg stands and shot-gunning cans of cheap bud lite for an approving grin or a wink.

“Remind me why we’re here again?” you ask, jerking back as a drunken guy nearly topples into you, the red solo cup in his hand sloshing over onto the already sticky linoleum floor.

Mel sighs, “Because, darling, you promised me that you’d come out at least once if me and Jayce made it through the Challenger Series this year.”

She tugs you behind her, weaving through the crush of bodies till the cramped living room area opens onto a much larger patio, the mid-autumn chill cooling your skin.

“It was a joke,” you say, whining slightly even as Mel grabs what looks like an unopened hard cider from the table and presses it into your hand.

“Yes, and one that hurt my feelings,” Mel sniffs, turning her nose up, though a grin teases at her lips, “so to make up for it, you now have to stay at this party and have some semblance of a good time.”

And that was three and a half drinks ago, because sometime between then and now, you’ve found yourself pulled into an unwitting game of spin the bottle with what seems like half the entire hockey team, sitting next to Mel, her boyfriend Jayce on your other side, chatting animatedly with one of the girls hockey girls. You overhear the words “creatin” and “Bulgarian Squat” and decided that it’s time for you to tune out of the conversation.

“Vi, it’s your turn!”

Vi, your thoughts linger over the sound.

It’s a pretty name.

You glance up at the girl sitting across from you, Number Six — you’ve always known her as that, what with the tattoo on her cheek (there were rumors that it’s actually not real and she just reapplies one of those temporary tattoos every two weeks) and the fact that it’s her jersey number, it’s really not too hard to remember.

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, laughing as she reaches for the empty beer bottle in the middle of the circle. Her right hand’s bandaged up and you can’t help staring at it. When you look up next, it’s to catch her watching you, your eyes meeting in a startling clash of raw contact — the cacophonous noise of the party dulling out to a thin whine somewhere at the back of your head as you stare at her and she stares right back.

You’d never noticed that her eyes, even in the dark, beneath the dim, flickering patio lights, reads mourning-dove blue, so subtle it’s almost gray, so sharp as she takes you in that your stomach drops from inside you. She smirks and twists her fingers expertly around the bottle, setting it whizzing.

You tear your eyes away, your breath sent astray in your chest by just that look alone. You frown at the spinning bottle, your mind abuzz with fragmentary thoughts you can’t quite string along for long enough to form a full sentence — eyes… her lips are pretty… wasn’t she dating… someone? who??? what’s her name again? something pretty —

“— right, ice princess, you ready?”

“Huh?” you jerk your eyes up from the bottle to find everyone watching you. From your left, Mel nudges you with a sanctimonious grin, her eyes flickering down to the bottle and back up towards —

“Go on!” she hisses, even as you blink uncomprehendingly down at the bottle pointing right at you.

Across the circle, Vi’s questioning smirk is all the answer you need as your alcohol-addled brain finally puts together the pieces.

“R-right…” you push up onto your knees, but something holds you back, a niggling feeling in the back of your brain as Vi’s smirk grows wide and she jerks her head towards the living room.

“Want a bit of privacy? Or… would you prefer an audience?”

Half the circle wolf-whistles at the insinuation, the other half roll their eyes, leaning back on their elbows as if to settle in for a long night.

You lick your lips, feeling your mouth scald dry.

“Privacy. Please.”

You follow Vi stiffly from the patio back into the stuffy house, her fingers closing around your wrist as she tugs you behind her through a long hallway splitting off from the main living room, branching into a series of what look like bedrooms. Half the doors are closed, illicit sounds echoing out from behind them, but Vi finds an empty one near the end of the hallway and pushes it open, leading you inside.

“Oh wow,” you say, looking around the room. It’s a typical fratboy’s room, full of suggestive posters, the floor littered with questionably laundered clothes.

“What, not your ideal setting for a makeout-sesh with a stranger?”

You frown as your eyes slingshot back to Vi, her standing feet from you, hands tucked loosely into her pockets, watching you with dark, firefly eyes.

“Thought we were just supposed to kiss once.”

Vi chuckles, closing the distance between you in a few quick strides, crowding you up against the closed door.

“Sure. We can do that. Or…” she makes no effort to hide the way her eyes flicker down to your lips, trailing back up in a line of fire that sizzles against your skin. “I could show you what a real good time looks like.”

Your breath crystalizes in your chest, and the strange, tickling feeling traces down the back of your head till it gathers, hot and unconscionable at the nape of your neck — a spin-click wheel of half-formed thoughts and images ticking by behind your eyelids as you try to remember why the hell this feels so wrong.

And then, it clicks, and you press a hand to Vi’s chest just as she’s leaning down to graze her lips against yours, the friction so delicious you almost lose your train of thought.

“A-are you sure this is a good idea? Didn’t you just break up with that track and field girl? Caitlyn?” you blurt out, a culmination of all the snippets of whispered conversations and half-caught glances of the pair of them across campus. The It-Girl Couple, people called them, the hockey team star and the track and field genius. They were hard to miss, and even harder to forget.

A moth-wing-flicker of emotions crosses Vi’s face as she takes half a step back, her expression morphing into one of shock, and then hurt, and finally, hard-lined disgust as she looks down at you with a thin-lipped grimace.

“Oh fuck you.”

She yanks you from the door, storming out without a backwards glance. You catch yourself against the half-made bed, your breath coming in heaving pants as your head spins. Guilt curdles in the bed of your stomach like spoilt milk, and it only takes you half a second to realize that of all the things to say, that probably was the worst possible choice.

You’d heard mention of the breakup, even if you didn’t have any stakes in this so-called game. It was harsh and messy and loud, and it had spilled across campus like a backed-up toilet, oozing foulness and stank across the grounds till not a single person was left unstained in the aftermath.

“Wait —” you stumble after Vi, but it’s too late. By the time you reach the patio doors, she’s already settling back into her place in the circle, an easy grin slung across her lips.

You swallow, pushing through the door to scurry over to Mel’s side. Mel beams at the flush in your cheeks, convinced (just like the rest of the circle) that it’d been one hell of a kiss, judging by how entirely breathless you are.

“Damn Vi, you gotta learn how to go easy on them figure skaters, hm?” Margot smirks, her eyes glittering as she looks you over, “look at the poor darling — she can barely breathe!”

Everyone laughs, and Vi flashes a convincingly satisfied smirk, shrugging up a shoulder. You glance at her, only to shiver at the arctic ice behind her gaze as your eyes catch once more.

“What can I say? Easy isn’t a setting I come programmed with.”

You duck your head as Vi casts you one more frigid look before turning to laugh at something a teammate has just said, and the circle devolves into good-natured banter and pocket conversations. You gulp around your too-dry throat and pluck Mel’s drink from her hand, tossing the rest of it back in a single gulp. She blinks at you, eyes wide.

“Darling, are you —”

“I — I’m fine just — it’s — I think I’m gonna head back.”

Mel frowns, “Are you sure? I mean —” she looks towards where Vi’s been pulled into an impromptu arm-wrestling match with some dude from the football team, “you could try and —”

You shake your head, “No, I — I think I’m good. I had a good time, I just —” you run a hand through your hair, “I’ve got practice tomorrow and Amara’s gonna murder me if I get there late.”

Mel stares for a second before relenting, a soft sigh on her lips.

“Alright, alright — go on then. I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow at practice, yes?”

You give her a tight-lipped smile, reaching out for a quick hug before ducking out of the party, skirting the edges of the growing mosh pit forming in the living room till you finally find yourself out on the front steps again.

You close your eyes for a second, pressing your back to the frat house door, feeling the dull thump of the music inside reverberating through the thin wooden frame as you breathe in and out.

You can still taste the heat of Vi’s breath on your lips, feel harsh sting of ice as she’d caught your eyes after. The chill air, once refreshing, pebbles your skin and an involuntary shiver shakes down your spine. You wrap your arms around yourself and give your head a good shake.

Whatever, you think, stepping off the porch, casting your eyes up at the star-strewn sky, a whisp of warm breath fogging up the air before you.

Not like it’ll matter. Bet she won’t even remember me after tonight.

taglist: @traiitorjoe @rizzscary @wetcat020 @alex-thegiraffeboyy @nanasemo @saturnhas82moons @unear7hly @drsnowrose @grantaires-waistcoat @isab3lita @ally-all-around @starrysetup22 @lipsent @lewd_alien @jack-frost-2010 @starsfortaylor @onesockcat @lesbian-useless @armins-slvt

[snowballseal]

How they react to you feeling insecure (LaDS)

Summary: How the Love and Deepspace boys react to you feeling insecure about various things. Includes Rafayel, Sylus, Zayne, and Xavier. Lots of fluff.

Word Count: they're all around 1000 roughly

Note: Warnings of different kinds of insecurity, ranging from physical to mental. I'm not sure of how well the Xavier one turned out, he's harder for me to write, but I couldn't leave him out!!! Anyways, hope yall enjoy!

Rafayel

His ended up being a lot longer, so it's posted separately.

here

--

Sylus

Being partners with Sylus is a…daunting position to be in.

You always considered yourself a fairly average person, more focused on who you are than what you look like. It’s not that you don’t like the way you look - you do - and you don’t like comparing yourself to anyone, but you don’t plan on being a model anytime soon. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

Then you met Sylus, a man who looks like he was carved from the marble of ancient architecture. He could stand in a room of masterpieces and people would still look at him instead of the art. And since you’re by his side now, that means they’re also looking at you.

Being stared down by wanderers in one thing. Being stared down by the most powerful and prevalent members of the N109 Zone? You hate to admit that it gets to you. In fact, it gets so under your skin, that even when you’re dressed in the most extravagant dresses and decadent jewelry, you can’t help but feel…insecure.

Twisting in front of the mirror, you eye every detail of the dress Sylus bought you. It’s perfect, of course. The man has an annoying knack for getting you the most beautiful things and knowing exactly what fits you. The color compliments your hair and it’s comfortable to boot.

Still. You can’t help but feel like a kid trying to fit in at the adults table, wearing your mother’s heels even though they don’t fit. A bit ridiculous.

“Do you not like it?” Sylus appears behind you, dressed in a matching, lavish suit. 

You jump a little, eyes flicking up to meet his in the mirror. His eyes burn into you, reading the hesitation on your face as you curl your arms around your stomach. There’s no fiery retort or witty comment like usual. You just look back at your dress, the tips of your ears tinging pink.

A frown pulls at Sylus’ lips, his voice softening, “What’s wrong?”

“...Do you really think people believe us? That we’re together?” You ask quietly, shuffling your weight back and forth. “That I’m a good match for you?”

You’re keenly aware that you’ve never had a conversation like this with Sylus. For the most part your relationship has been filled with teasing and playful bickering. It’s always light. Or about work. This is new, and while you trust him more than anything, you hate not knowing how he will react.

Sylus hums, low and thoughtful, as he curls his arms around you, “Does it matter to you what others think?”

You let out a sigh, leaning back into his touch thankfully. You want to say no. You want to keep up the air of confidence, but that quiet voice of doubt keeps worming its way through your thoughts.

“I just…I feel like I’m not what people expect. And…” you try to explain, hesitating. Sylus presses a kiss to your shoulder, offering a hum of encouragement. Taking a deep breath, you add, “It bothers me. It feels like I’m being forced into the spotlight but I’m not meant to be there. Like I don’t fit.”

“Hmm, so you feel like an odd duckling.” You give him a small jab, and Sylus chuckles. “My apologies. I think you misunderstand the attention though.” He pulls you closer. You shiver as his lips trace along the crook of your shoulder, pressing delicate kisses up the side of your neck, until he can murmur lowly into your ear, “You’re too humble, kitten. When you walk into a room, all eyes turn to you, not out of judgment, but out of jealousy. Afterall, you’ve tamed the leader of Onychinus. Even if you walked in with your uniform, they’d look at you the same. And I get the pleasure of walking around with the most powerful-” He presses his lips to your jaw. “-beautiful-” His lips trace against your cheek. “-woman of Linkon City. Don’t let the attention of those lesser than you make you doubt, otherwise I might have to find another way to show them just how well we fit together.”

Sylus’ eyes catch yours in the mirror again. They’re dark, like coals surrounded by flickering cinders. So intense you can almost feel the flames licking along your skin. There’s not a doubt in your mind that he’s being genuine. And that sets your heart racing. Along with the way he holds you so close, equal parts possessive and reverent. Like worship.

“Your devotion might scare some people, Sylus,” you whisper, glancing sideways at him.

He flashes a dangerous smile, “Does it scare you?”

You cast one final glance at your reflections before turning around in his hold and curling your arms around his neck. Sylus raises a challenging brow.

“I’m not. I like how you stand up for me, even when it’s against my own insecurities.” You draw him down, pressing a kiss to that carnal smile. Sylus softens immediately, cupping your jaw to draw you into a deeper kiss. The warmth that simmers in each and every touch leaves you a little breathless when you pull away. Pressing against his chest before he can drag you in again, you make sure to say one last thing, “Thank you, Sylus. I’ll make sure to remember all of that…especially the part about you being wrapped around my finger.”

“Hmm, such a cruel mistress, indeed.”

“And you love me.”

A chuckle rumbles through his chest, “Yes, I do. So, will you accompany me to this auction now?”

---

Zayne

“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m going?” You ask, voice wavering with nerves as you straighten Zayne’s tie for him.

“Isn’t it natural to bring one’s partner to these kinds of events?” He tilts his head, brow perked ever so slightly.

You nod, but can’t seem to erase the frown on your lips.

A week ago, Zayne had asked if you would accompany him to his medical school’s class reunion banquet. He had been asked to give a special word, given the reputation he had developed in his time at Akso Hospital, not to mention winning the Starcatcher Award for his work.

At first, you were ecstatic to have an opportunity to learn more about his old life. He has such a thing about living in the present, you hardly get to hear any stories about his time in med school, or when he was doing rotations at the hospital. You were eager to meet the people who he used to spend time with and hopefully catch a few stories you could tease him with later.

But as the night drew closer, you started actually thinking about all the people you would be around, all of whom graduated from the same medical program Zayne did. You can only imagine how smart they all are. And how you’ll get lost the moment any medical jargon comes up. 

The more you think about it, the more nerves you feel buzzing under your skin. You know you’re not the smartest, not compared to Zayne at least. He’s a genius, after all, and could probably outsmart most anyone. You’ve always been better at the physical stuff. That’s what makes you such a good pair. 

It’s not like you can impress everyone by whipping your gun out and fighting, though. All you’ll have are your words, and you’re not particularly good with those…

You blink when a large hand suddenly circles your wrist. Glancing up, you find Zayne looking down at you, brows furrowed ever so slightly.

“While I appreciate your attention to detail, I believe you’ve been straightening my tie for five minutes now.” Heat creeps up your neck. You hadn’t even realized you had been lost in thought. Zayne’s eyes narrow inquisitively.  “What are you thinking about that has your mind so preoccupied?” 

His thumb brushes casually along the inside of your wrist, not so subtly checking your pulse. A strangely endearing habit of his when he’s worried about you. You let out a long sigh and hide your face against his chest, feeling the heat bleed across your cheeks.

How are you supposed to tell him that you’re insecure about how smart all his friends must be?

Zayne doesn’t push right away. He knows you’ll explain when you want to, and if you don’t, then he knows you’re not ready to. It was an unspoken rule between you, something you started with him because you noticed he likes to think his words out. It felt natural to offer you the same when you struggle to express yourself. Like now.

Ultimately, you figure it’s better to just be straightforward. That’s how he would do it, and it’s better than dancing around the subject.

“I guess I’m nervous because I feel like I’m going to be the dumbest person in the room tonight,” you mutter against his coat. Your fingers tap out an anxious beat against his abdomen. “It’s silly and I know it shouldn’t matter, but I just don’t want to make you look bad.”

Zayne remains quiet for a long minute. Your fingers move a little quicker, matching the stuttering rhythm of your heart. His hand slides up, gently trapping them against his body.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“Physical tics are a common result of anxiety,” he hums dismissively, thumb smoothing over your knuckles. “As is your rapid heart rate. This truly bothers you.”

“Of course it does,” you sigh, a bit exasperated, ”You’ve worked hard to get where you are, Zayne. I love you so much, and I respect your work more than anything. I don’t, I don’t want to say something stupid and have it reflect on you badly.”

The doctor clicks his tongue, “First, I would prefer if you stop using that language to describe yourself.”

Your heart falters when his cool fingers touch your cheek, drawing your face up to his. He looks upset, but not exactly at you, the sharp line of his jaw contrasting with the softness of his eyes. Like it pains him that you think this way. Which it does.

“Those words don’t suit you. I wouldn’t allow another to call you them, so why would I allow you to?” He asserts, the corner of his lips twitching with distaste. “I don’t want to hear them again, do you understand?”

“Okay.” A thread of warmth curls around your heart when Zayne nods approvingly. His protectiveness really knows no bounds.

“Second, I do not agree with your diagnosis.” 

Your brow furrows a little. What? What does he mean, he disagrees? He’s literally surrounded by geniuses, you can’t match up to any of them if they’re anything like him. 

Seeing you start to overthink, Zayne shakes his head and gently pinches your cheek. You jolt back a little. The corners of his eyes crinkle, making you pout.

“Meanie,” you grumble, “Fine, explain your reasoning, Doctor Zayne.”

“It’s simple. Intelligence is made up of more than just academic knowledge, which, I assume, is what you are thinking of when you make such comments.” You nod. He’s not wrong about that, you guess. “Intelligence also includes the knowledge of how to use one’s strengths to achieve the best outcome. It is true that for some, this means using academic reasoning. However, it also includes those who develop the skills and discipline to maintain their bodies and fight for those who can’t, like…”

He pauses and gives you an expectant look.

“...me,” you finish slowly.

“Yes,” he hums, stroking the redness of your cheek, “I believe, under these standards, you are far more intelligent than most of the people you will meet tonight, darling. Though there is no comparison in the first place.”

His words sink in slowly but surely, filling in the cracks of your doubt. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he probably has some kind of healing magic, because you can already feel the burden of your insecurities melting away.

Leave it to Zayne to know exactly what to say, but in the most complex sounding way.

“You always know how to make me feel better, huh?” You ask, finally cracking that smile he loves.

“I am simply telling you the truth.” Zayne leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “There is not a lifetime in which my reputation will be more important than you. I would gladly throw it all away if it meant reminding you of that.”

You snort, “Don’t do that, please. I can only imagine the fit Doctor Greyson would throw. He’d be so mad at me.”

“I can handle Doctor Greyson, in the same way I can handle everyone tonight.” He slips his fingers between yours, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles. You wiggle your fingers  happily and Zayne can’t help but grin to himself. “If at any point you find yourself uncomfortable, just stay by my side and I will act as your distraction. Though, I’m sure they will all love you, just as I do.”

“...Thank you, Zayne.”

“Of course, my jasmine.”

---

Xavier

Working with Xavier is a blessing, as much as it is a curse. You couldn’t ask for a better partner. Someone who you know will always have your back, who can handle himself completely, who is probably the most talented hunter you’ve ever met in your entire life. He’s undeniably amazing.

On the flip side of that, though, you often fall into the trap of thinking about how he deserves better. Wondering if, maybe, the only reason he chose to stay with you was because of the aether core in your heart. If that’s also the reason you’re in a relationship now…

And some days, these thoughts win out over the rest. Like today.

“What’s wrong?”

You blink, eyes flickering up from the bowl of ramen in front of you. Early on, you had started a tradition of eating a meal together after a successful mission, to just enjoy the peace of your home and each other. But today, you weren’t feeling that hungry, just…tired.

Xavier tilts his head, concern furrowing his brow - he noticed your mood start to shift days before, but didn’t want to push since you didn’t seem to notice it yourself. Now, though, it’s too obvious for him to ignore.

“I’m fine,” you sigh, flicking your chopsticks back and forth to watch the noodles swirl around in the broth, a small frown capturing your lips. It’s a horribly obvious lie.

“Is it something I did?” His voice isn’t accusatory or upset. It’s just a rational question to help him figure out what’s wrong. Still, you feel guilt tug at your chest, and you set the chopsticks down with another sigh.

You don’t want him to think that. You’d never blame Xavier for something like this. That would be like asking him to be a worse person, which is stupid. It’s just you. Your problem. Dragging him into it will only make you feel worse.

“No, Xavier, you didn’t do anything, promise. I’m not upset…with you.” 

“But you are upset.”

Chancing a glance up at him proves a bad idea, making it all that more difficult to keep your thoughts quiet. Behind his normal sleepy expression, worry gleams in the deep blue of his eyes, unyielding and undeniably calm, like waves lapping gently at the beach. 

The sight makes your heart ache and the words are tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them, “Do you think I’m actually a suitable partner for you?”

Surprise flickers across the hunter’s face. Of all the things he was expecting you to say, that wasn’t even on the list. He doesn’t laugh though, or take your question lightly.

“Do you mean, as a hunting partner? Or as a romantic partner?”

You shift uncomfortably, eyes falling back to your ramen, “I don’t know. Both, I guess?”

He hums softly. You try to ignore the nerves fluttering in your chest as Xavier gets up, watching him out of the corner of your eye as he circles the table to stand next to you. The hunter drips his head, catching your gaze.

“May I see your hand?”

A small frown pulls at your lips, not exactly sure where he’s going with this, but you offer him your hand anyways. Xavier takes your wrist, touch featherlight, and moves it so your hand is held up flat, facing him. Your brow furrows.

“Xav-”

“Look.” 

Pursing your lips, you let out a little huff. He really hates giving direct answers, doesn’t he? Still, you’re in no place to really judge him, or expect anything for that matter. He’s always been a bit of a mystery to you.

You watch as Xavier places his hand against yours. His palm is warm and you can feel the calluses from who knows how many years of hunting. Your hand looks tiny in comparison, his pale, delicate fingers long enough to curl over your own a little. The sight makes your heart squeeze, fondness competing with the feeling of being so…small.

“They’re pretty different,” Xavier hums, voice still calm, his own eyes fixed on your hands. “Your fingers are always cold, and your hands are small. You have a scar here.” His free hand grazes the side of your palm, along your pinky. “And here” He traces another along your knuckle. Your breath falters at the tenderness behind his touch, like you’re delicate porcelain. “Mine are in different places. Yours are skilled at weaving silk balls and mine can…open jars.”

You snort. Xavier’s eyes dart up to yours, sparkling with humor, a brow raised. You try to smother your laughter, rather ineffectively, and motion for him to continue.

“They’re different, but-” His fingers spread apart, and you mimic him instinctually, only for his fingers to slot between yours in one fluid motion. You inhale softly, laughter dying in your throat. It’s like two puzzle pieces fitting together, a perfect embrace that washes over you with a comforting warmth.

Xavier watches you, keenly aware of the way you squeeze his hand tightly, desperately, like you’re worried it might disappear. He gives yours a tender squeeze in return, thumb brushing over your knuckle.

“I think they’re a suitable match. Don’t you?”

God, how could you go without this man? The worries that have been pricking at the back of your mind all week seem to melt away. It leaves you with that warmth, the kind that only comes from Xavier, that he offers you over and over again.

You give his hand another squeeze, finally smiling, “Yah. I do…Thanks, Xavier.”

The hunter leans down, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. You can feel his lips brush against your skin as he murmurs, “Let me know if you ever feel this way again, angel. I’ll be more than glad to remind you.”

“I will.”

---

This was really fun to write!!! I really hope you guys like it! There are so many freaking tags on this puppy.

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

A Super Soldier's Soft Spot

pairing: post tfatws!bucky barnes x fem!reader

genre: flufff

el's thoughts: first time writing for bucky!! it's probably a lil ooc, but i figured i'll post it anyway. hope yall like it!!

masterlist

James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky. Winter Soldier. Ex-Winter Soldier. Avenger. The-One-With-The-Metal-Arm.Uncle Bucky. Babe.

All are names Bucky answers to. Granted, the last one was the latest addition to the list. He met Y/N at a little backyard barbeque at the Willson’s, that Sarah had put together. Sam invited him and he was promptly introduced to Y/N—Sarah’s friend since middle school. Bucky hated to admit that Sam had finally found him a match but he couldn’t deny how quickly he fell for Y/N. 

She was a breath of fresh air in the storm that was his life. Cliche. He knows. 

“Hurry up! We’re going to be late!”

Bucky chuckled, “I’m the one closest to the door, Y/N/N.” He tugged his leather jacket on and grabbed his keys from the key hook by the door. “Plus, you know your family doesn’t start dinner at the time they say they would. We’ll still get there early.”

Y/N hopped on one shoe-clad foot as she slipped the other shoe on, clutching her canvas tote bag in her other hand. “Still.” She stood up straight in front of him with a bright, teasing smile and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Okay, let’s go, Super Soldier.”

Bucky rolled his eyes playfully and held the door open for her, followed her out, and locked it behind him. If anyone asked him just five years ago if he saw himself going to family dinners once a month he would have laughed in their face. Yet, here he was, helping his girl into his car to drive them to her monthly family dinner. 

Pulling into the large crowded driveway of Y/N’s family home, she reached across the center console and squeezed Bucky’s hand excitedly. Y/N’s older sister had texted her beforehand, letting her know that the kids would be joining them. Since Y/N’s nieces and nephews are in their early to mid-teen years, the kids seem to always have plans of their own on the weekend. The kids had grown incredibly fond of Bucky, already claiming him as their favorite. Y/N had tried to warn and prepare him for how overwhelming her nieces and nephews could be but Bucky surprised her the first time he met her family. 

Bucky didn’t realize how much he missed being in a family setting, having forgotten how his own mother and sister were. 

As soon as Bucky and Y/N stepped out of the car, the front door swung open hazardly. 

“Uncle Bucky!”

Bucky barely had time to register the title before a whirlwind of limbs tackled him. He allowed himself to stumble back playfully, wrapping his metal arm around Y/N’s youngest niece, Ava, who clung to him like a koala. 

“Hey, kid,” he chuckled, ruffling her hair. “Thought you had plans with your friends?”

Ava grinned. “Canceled. I had to be here. You promised to help me with my soccer drills.”

“Ah, right,” Bucky nodded while a smirk tugged at his lips. “You think you’re ready to take me on, huh?”

She crossed her arms, feigning confidence. “I’m faster than you.”

“Sure, kid,” he said, his tone dripping with playful sarcasm as he followed Y/N up the steps.

Inside, the house was alive with chatter, and the smell of something delicious and savory, simmered on the stove. Y/N’s mom greeted them first, pulling Bucky into a hug before she moved to kiss Y/N’s cheek. It had taken him a while to get used to the casual affection Y/N’s family showed him, but now? Now, it didn’t send him into fight mode. Now, he let himself melt into it.

“Bucky. Sweetie, you look too thin.” Y/N’s mom fussed, cupping his face. “Are you eating enough?”

“I–”

“He eats more than enough, Mom.” Y/N cut him off with a laugh. “Don’t let the super soldier metabolism fool you.”

Before Bucky could defend himself, Y/N’s two oldest nephews appeared, grinning as they exchanged knowing looks.

“You bringing the metal arm for football, or are you scared you’ll embarrass yourself?” Tyler, the eldest, challenged with a smirk.

Bucky raised a brow. “Kid, I fought aliens. You really think I’m scared of a game of backyard football?”

“Prove it then.”

Y/N sighed, shaking her head as Bucky let himself be dragged out to the backyard by the boys. “You’d think they’d stop testing him by now.”

Her older sister, Marie, smirked, handing Y/N a drink. “Please. They love him. He’s the first guy you’ve brought home who actually keeps up with them.”

Y/N smiled, watching Bucky as he jogged across the backyard, already intercepting a pass with an ease that left her nephews gaping. He looked so… happy. Like he belonged.

Like family.

Marie nudged her side. “He’s the one, huh?”

Y/N glanced at her sister before looking back at Bucky, who had just scooped up Ava onto his shoulders as she cheered. 

“Yeah,” she murmured, heart swelling at the thought of Bucky being a part of her family permanently. “Yeah, I think he is.”

[madebynarii]

STOP SCROLLING, PUT THE PHONE DOWN. STOP OVERCONSUMING.

you already know what you have to do. you are consuming the same recycled information again, and again | + slight LONG tough love rant

yall know how your parents are always talking about how it’s the damn phone?? it really is. PUT THE DAMN PHONE DOWN PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING HOLY.

you literally have nothing else to learn. there’s nothing else to read, stop scrapping the bottom of the VERY EMPTY bowl like a hungry homeless victorian child whose last meal was 8 months ago.

you KNOW the information, you KNOW what you have to do… and you’re still here? rereading the same information that has been recycled and reworded like at least 800 times?? because you won’t bother to apply to the information???

“but i DO try to apply—” ah. i’m stopping you right there. i’m gonna underline a specific word there. try. you’re TRYING? that’s very cute, would you like a gold star jimmy??

in all seriousness, let’s get ONE thing clear. you don’t try. you either have it or you don’t. you either induce the void or you don’t. you either shift or you don’t. you DECIDE, or you don’t. and i’m not talking about when you get a small little burst of motivation, you affirm for a few minutes, or hours, or days….. and then look around and ask where it is. like… did you even READ the posts you overconsumed, or did it go in one ear and out the other??

overconsumption in general is just so so bad because you’re hearing about this person’s assumptions, and then THIS other person has DIFFERENT assumptions compared to person a. these are all combining in your mind and now you’re just confused about what’s actually “true” and what’s “false”. law of assumption is SUBJECTIVE.

i mean this with all the love i could possibly have in my heart, because we ALL want to succeed and live our dream lives. but please, stop hurting yourself with this harmful cycle. all that time you spent rereading and overconsuming loa/shifting/void content, you could’ve spent saturating. affirming. manifesting. hell, you probably would already be living your dream life, or shifted to your desired reality.

here’s what we’re gonna do instead. pinky promise this will be the only thing you’ll actually need when it comes to loa. holding your hands when i say this rn… it’s not that complicated. no, i’m deadass… it’s NOT that complicated.

let’s start over, like COMPLETELY. i mean barebones, back when you were new to loa and just found out everything you’ve been told in life is a complete and utter lie. 3 things you need to know about loa to get you started.

i. manifestation is instant. the law is instant; the law is quite literally a LAW. it has to happen.

quick reminder: in manifestation, there is NO process. no “purge” transition, no waiting period, none.

let that sink in for a hot minute. no, i don’t wanna hear how you’ve been “trying for so and so years/months/weeks” and nothing happened. if you had your desire… would you be lamenting in the fact you don’t have it? NO. EXACTLY. I THOUGHT SO.

so instead of rolling in the mud of limiting beliefs and reaffirming how you STILL don’t have your desire, pick yourself up, CLEAN that mud off of you, and tell yourself right here right now; i have said desire. it is mine. it is done. it’s the LAW it has to happen. just how the law of gravity literally has to work because it’s a LAW, so does the law of assumption.

ii. affirmations = thinking

you know how we’re always thinking? we’re always manifesting. manifestation doesn’t have an on/off switch.

our internal dialogue literally just keeps yapping and talking, and in that dialogue, we’re subconsciously making assumptions. oh, you’re thinking about that class you have later today and how hard it’ll be? that’s an assumption. you’re thinking about your bank account and how rich and prosperous you are? guess what… that’s an assumption! congrats! you now know the basics to manifesting in law of assumption!

if we’re so used to making negative assumptions and manifesting the undesired, then why would it be so hard to do the opposite? assume what works in YOUR favor for once.

iii. “it’s not logical!” i’m sorry, logic? yeah, we don’t do that here.

this one’s short and easy to answer. here, we throw logic out the window. literally stop clutching it like a purse and there’s some thief nearby, i swear to GOD. IT IS DELAYING YOU AND YOUR ABILITY TO MANIFEST YOUR DESIRES. you think manifesting someone wearing a certain color, or seeing a butterfly is logical, but manifesting your dream life isn’t? do you hear yourself?? MANIFESTATION IN ITSELF IS ILLOGICAL, WHETHER MANIFESTING AN INSECT OR A WHOLE 180 CHANGE TO YOUR LIFE.

excuse my profanity but we quite literally live in a fucking floating rock in SPACE. WITH MILLION AND BILLION OF GALAXIES AND PARALLEL REALITIES… BUT ME MANIFESTING A DIFFERENT EYE COLOR IS ILLOGICAL… OKAY.

okay so you read all this, which i’m sure you’ve already been informed of during your overconsumption spree like 800 posts ago… so how do you actually apply to this? simple. affirm, decide, persist.

WAIT. before you start complaining. i’ll give a small explanation for the poor souls who have been “trying” that for ages and “nothing’s worked”

affirm -> think in your favor.

decide -> assume it’s already yours.

persist -> remember you’re telling yourself you already have said desire… don’t view it as a chore please for the love of GOD. when we say persist, we don’t mean affirm for a little bit then look around and cry because jake from your high school didn’t send you that text. PLEASE.

persist means KEEP THINKING IN YOUR FAVOR. it will always come back to affirming what you want!!! because that’s literally it.. it’s all you have to do. see?? told you it wasn’t complicated.

some tips to get you started? sure, i have some

here’s one: none. there are no tips. all i’ve listed here is MORE THAN ENOUGH TO GET YOU STARTED… PLEASE STOP OVERCOMPLICATING THE LAW ITS THE EASIEST THING EVER I’LL PULL MY HAIR OUT.

okay maybe there is one. don’t give up right away. ACTUALLY apply to the law, because trust me, you’re going to get these results so fast when you finally stop doubting and trust yourself. improving your self concept is a very good start, and while i know there’s like tons of success stories on here about people who were literally shitting their pants and sobbing every night and still got what they wanted, improving your self concept can ALSO help!! and, hear me out, it could actually make the “process” a lot quicker!! but at the end of the day, it’ll all come down to what YOU believe works better.

and genuinely… that’s just it. it’s really that simple, even if i ranted for like 20 whole paragraphs… it’s EASY. ITS SIMPLE. stop deciding that everything costs effort, that it costs time, that it’s hard. how do you expect to manifest what you want with you complaining the opposite all the time… you’re not manifesting anything with THAT attitude.

this is ALL i have to say and honestly maybe the last post you’ll ever need to read if you FINALLY STOP OVERCONSUMING AND APPLY TO WHAT MANY BLOGGERS HAVE TOLD YOU!!! i need to rest now, i’ve been typing nonstop for 30+ minutes now (i’m getting cramps)

[chunghasweetie]

𝐖𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 | J.JK

— part 1

— pairing | fem!oc x dealer!jjk

— summary | after a petty argument jungkook spots you showing out at a party with the hosts arm around your waist

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)

unprotected sex, toxic fwb, lots cursing, jealousy, angst, ratchet behavior, dirty talk, angry sex, belittling, drinking, smoking🍃, womanizer behavior, breeding kink, both 🚩🚩 , daddy kink, degrading, slapping (face), false accusations, double standards

— word count | 6.2k words

— song suggestion | love you like me — william singe

He was blocked once again.

He didn’t even know for what this time.

Well, he had a good idea.

Running his mouth again. They always argued and he was always blocked and unblocked.

This time he think he actually irritated you.

“Goddamnit Y/n.” He cursed. He pissed you off once again but now his number and his Instagram was both blocked by you.

For some reason this time irked him more than the others.

“You’re still stressing over that girl?” Jimin plopped on the couch next to him.

“I can’t believe you still fuckin on her.” Taehyung walked in, taking a seat on the couch too.

“That’s my girl ya’ll know that.” Jungkook bit his lip, staring at his blank phone screen.

“You need to get like how you used to. 3 or more at a time. Always.” Jimin spoke, “You used to be like that. You used to make fun of guys like you. Now you’re giving out free shit to some girl.”

“I mean he does get pussy from it but like, only her bro?” Taehyung looked at Jungkook. “You used to have all these girls on you. Stephanie, Nari, Seunghee, Belle, Maya… What happened to you man?”

Jungkook thought about what they said. “Shits just different now.”

“Oh my gosh she’s ruined you.” Jimin groaned. “Nah man. We’re going to a Jackson party.”

“He’s having a party?” Jungkook looked up from his phone. “Why haven’t I heard anything about it?”

“Because you’re too busy stressin’ about some bitch.” Jimin shook his head.

Before Jungkook could correct him, Jimin corrected himself. “Some girl. Before you start.”

“Anyway, it’s tonight.” Taehyung spoke.

“So bring whatever cash you got and we’re definitely gonna send you home with a girl or two.” Jimin swung his arm around his shoulder.

“Oh shit I think she’s posting about you Jeon!” Taehyung was on her phone, immediately making Jungkook’s head snap over.

“Really?!”

“No man.” He laughed. “We really gotta get you more girls. You need more pussy than just her.”

“Yeah, no more Y/n.” Jimin shook his head.

“Whatever.”

༊—

“I’m so jealous.” Seungyeon swooned over the text messages on your phone.

“I don’t see why. This looks annoying as hell.” Elkie rolled her eyes.

Jungkook🍃

Wyd

Lemme come over

I got shit for you and your friends

Omg fucking answer

You’re mad annoying

I ain’t even mean what I said fr just reply 😭

“I think it’s cute. And hilarious.” Seungyeon chuckled. “What made you block him this time?”

“He was bragging about how many girls he sells to. How they’re all pretty and thick as hell. So I just said ‘cool’ and blocked him.” You shrugged.

You and your friends had been getting ready for hours for a Jackson Wang party they had personally been invited to.

“You better not hope he doesn’t pull up tonight.” Elkie spoke.

“Yeah Y/n. Taehyung’s going and I’m sure they’ll try to convince him.” Seungyeon told her.

“He’s probably too busy getting high in his room.” Elkie replied. “Or selling in the east side.”

“Wouldn’t doubt it.” You shook your head. “I kinda do wish he would be there though.”

“Is his dick really that good?” Elkie asked you as she was baking her makeup.

“Unfortunately it is. Like, real good.” You started to get flashbacks.

“Here she goes.” Seungyeon rolled her eyes.

“He fucks me sooo good yall don’t get it.” You began. “Even though he’s annoying and shit I’ve never had dick like his. Once we started recording our shit I can’t stop rewatching.”

“You aren’t worried he’ll show people?” Elkie asked.

“They’re all on my phone. He only has a few. Even if he does show his homeboys it’s whatever. He’s damn near louder than me anyway.” You told her.

Your phone went off, making you look over at it to see the notification.

kplug🍃 has added you on Snapchat

“Oh my gosh.” You said out loud, immediately making the girls look over.

“He fucking added you on Snapchat!” Elkie laughed out loud, “He’s crazy”

“And on his plug account?” Seungyeon’s eyes widened. “He’s obsessed.•

“What can I say? This pussy makes him insane.” You jokingly boasted.

“Did you add him back?” Seungyeon asked.

“Nah not yet. I’ll wait until I’m almost done getting ready.” You tossed your phone on your bed.

“Yeah that’ll be better.” Elkie nodded.

“Ugh I need to hurry anyway. I’m tryna look good tonight.” You groaned, looking at your barely half done makeup.

No matter what it was, you loved to look good. You were a confident woman who took pride in her appearance.

Tonight mattered. You hadn’t took good pictures in quite some time and Jackson’s party was the best place to take them at.

You had just changed up your hair last night. You had a brown base with blonde highlights. And for tonight you decided to add gold and bronze tinsel to elevate your look.

Your friends always had the same energy, wanting to look as good as they could even if it was a simple occasion.

Seungyeon and Elkie definitely showed out with you tonight.

You all had skimpier outfits on tonight. You were a low cut brown latex top with a matching black mini skirt.

Your heels were black and the strings wrapped up around your mid calf. You sprayed your expensive perfume all over, making sure you smelt as good as you looked.

Your makeup was finally done for the night and it couldn’t have looked better. You looked incredible.

The girls had taken some pre party pics in your room, posting on all social media.

“Oh Y/n! Add him back.” Seungyeon told you.

You nodded, adding Jungkook back on Snapchat.

“He’s gonna see all our videos at the party. He’s gonna regret saying all that shit to you.” Elkie laughed. “Gonna see so many dudes all up on you and start punching walls and shit.”

“He probably already is and we haven’t even left the house yet.” Seungyeon laughed with her. “The pictures we posted right now are enough to make him tear his hair out.”

“Damn right.” You giggled. “Yall got everything? I’m about to order the Uber.”

Both girls nodded, making sure they had everything they needed.

kplug🍃 just sent you a snap

You looked at the notification, “Hm.” You hummed to yourself, not opening his snap quite yet.

Once the uber pulled up all of the girls climbed in, taking more pictures in the backseat on the drive there.

You lived in a nice area, but nothing compared to Jackson’s place.

The location was one of his many homes,

“Jackson lives so far from us.” Elkie looked at the map on her phone.

“Yeah but his area is so nice. It’s worth it.” Seungyeon added. “I wonder how many people are gonna be there.”

“Girl you know it’s gonna be so packed we gonna have to get dropped off damn near a mile away.” You laughed.

“You better hope Jungkook doesn’t show up.” Elkie looked over at you, who was just opening his snap.

The snap was him a car, sitting in a car full of tackily dressed women right corner of him. One of the girls was taking the picture for him.

“I should’ve just shut up.” Elkie covered her mouth. “They’re definitely going.��

“He’s petty as hell!” Seungyeon looked over at your screen. “What does he expect you to say to that?”

“Probably nothing.” Y/n turned off the phone. “He wants to be like that he can go right ahead.”

“You’re so cool about it.” Seungyeon looked at her in amazement. “I would’ve went batshit crazy.”

“I’m not trippin because I’m not holding back at this party.” She laughed.

༊—

“Why would you guys do me like this?”

“You’re so dramatic.” Jimin rolled his eyes. “We found you a car full of girls to take to the party and you’re complaining.”

“Didn’t ask for it. Y’all make me look like a charity case. I could’ve gotten plenty at Jackson’s.”

“Whatever.” Taehyung rolled his eyes. “You know how much play she’s gonna get there? And you’re gonna have to watch it alllll.”

“Yeah man. You’re gonna have to watch all sorts of dudes kissing up on her and shit. You’re gonna look like a bitch.” Jimin added.

“Exactly. So let us help you bro.” Taehyung smiled. “Come on it’ll be worth it. Plus, you look great man. She’ll be unblocking you in no time.”

Jungkook and the boys got in the car full of women, instantly leeching onto them.

“Hello ladies” Jimin greeted, buckling up.

“Hiii Jiminnn” They replied in union, almost fighting to talk to him.

One of them turned to Jungkook, immediately biting her lip. “Hey Kookie.”

“Hey Oliver.” He exhaled.

“It’s Olivia” She laughed. “You’re like— so funny!” Her annoying voice rang in his ears.

“Oh— my bad.”

The girls had tried talking Jungkook the entire ride there, trying to get him to open up and talk to them.

“Ouuu look at his phone.” One of the girls motioned.

“Omg look!” One was quick to snatch his phone, “He added Y/n on Snapchat, let’s send her something!”

“You guys should!” Taehyung added.

“No one needs to do that!” Jungkook tried to take it back but they already snapped pictures and sent them to Y/n on his phone.

Olivia passed the phone to Taehyung who kept repeating ‘give it to me’

“Taehyung what the hell!”

“It’s for your own good!” Taehyung held onto his phone for the rest of the ride there.

༊—

“Yep. I’m definitely gonna get sloppy drunk.” Seungyeon announced as they walked inside Jackson’s party.

“There’s no way you won’t. This shits fucking cool.” Elkie looked around the home.


People everywhere and the music was booming in all corners. Girls dancing damn near naked on tables and guys dancing around with empty shot glasses.

“Oh my gosh they’re here!” One of the guys accidentally said a bit too loud, making some heads turn towards the girls.

“Seungyeon come dance with us!”

“Y/n come on we already have shots for you!”

“Elkie come get on the table with us!”

Multiple people were trying to holler at them in attempt to get their attention.

“Yeah it’ll be hard to stay sober tonight.” Elkie laughed.

“Uh huh. And when Taehyung gets here I’m dipping.” Seungyeon giggled.

“You’re still fucking with him?!” Both girls snapped their heads.

“Y’all don’t get it! He is soooo fine whenever he talks to me I just wanna do whatever the hell he wants.” Seungyeon swooned.

“She can’t be serious.” Elkie looked at you. “So let me get this straight. You’re fucking on Taehyung and you’re fucking on Jungkook. Should I just dance with Jimin tonight? Since we’re the three musketeers all of a sudden.”

“Okay Jungkook was an accident!” You defended. “You wanted weed didn’t you!”

“Cut the crap! It was one time” Elkie shook her head. “I can’t believe you two.”

“Whatever.” Seungyeon rolled her eyes. “You should go with me when I go talk to Taehyung. Omg! We can all hang out tonight!”

“Uh, did you forget we’re not on the best terms?” You interrupted her fantasy.

“You never are. Get over it.” Seungyeon rolled her eyes. “Elkie pleaseeee.”

“I can’t believe you.” Elkie kept shaking her head. “You guys are sick.”

“Who’s sick?” A voice interrupted them. “I don’t need any illness spreading around at my party.”

“Omg Jackson!” Seungyeon gasped.

“Hey ladies. Hey Y/n.” He gave you a side hug. “I knew you guys would come showing out.”

“Always. You know us.” Elkie giggled.

Jackson knew the girls very well. They’ve been around since his early party days, helping him promote and build up his status for the parties.

You always went above and beyond for him, offering to even financially support the parties during the time.

Now Jackson was so rich his party budget skyrocketed. All because of those girls he was able to be where he was now. He was more than grateful.

“I know. I shouldn’t have expected any less.” He chuckled, “I’ll tell the security upstairs about yall so don’t sweat anything okay?”

“You got new security?” You questioned him.

“Fuck yeah I did. Last party the security was too drunk to even do their fucking job. I was pissed.” Jackson shook his head.

“Everything’s all good now though,” He continued. “Gotta nice new set up and it’ll do y’all real good. I promise you won’t be disappointed. You ladies have fun, okay?”

“Thank you Jackson.” The three girls bid their goodbyes. They didn’t expect to speak to him for long, especially since he was running a huge party.

“Let’s hang out down here for a bit and then make our way up yeah?” You suggested, earning a nod from the girls.

“Unless it’s too hard for Seungyeon to keep herself away from Taehyungie” Elkie teased her.

“Oh my gosh I hate you.” Seungyeon groaned.

“Speaking of Taehyungie,” You eyes behind her. “Here comes the man of the hour now.”

“With a shit ton of girls at that.”

Seungyeon snapped her head his way. “Oh my gosh.”

“Don’t look!” Elkie turned her attention. “Act unbothered. You can’t let him know you care. Like Y/n when Jungkook calls!”

“Yeah— Okay whatever.” You rolled your eyes. “But she’s right. He’s with hella girls. He’s not thinking about you right now. You can’t act like you’re waiting for him.”

“Look at you miss love expert.” Elkie teased you. “Let’s get you drinking Seungyeon.”

“Yes! Let’s drink! Finally.” You clapped your hands.

The girls walked off to the bar, plenty of people wanting to take shots with them.

The girls played a few drinking games and partied on tables just like the girls before you.

It would be a lie to say Jungkook’s eyes weren’t locked on you.

It was just him, Taehyung, and Jungkook in their own little section, a few guys coming up to talk to them here and there.

“Oh my gosh I hate you guys.” Jimin groaned. “Taehyung you can’t do this to me too.”

“She’s so bad Jimin. I’m almost as bad as Jeon.” Taehyung stared down Seungyeon.

“I thought you wanted to drown yourself in pussy! You were hyping me and Jungkook up earlier!”

“I’m a big fat liar okay!” Taehyung folded.

Seungyeon and you were both dancing on tables, lost in your own little world with drinks in your hands.

Jungkook hadn’t said anything in a minute. Simply staring.

Damn did you show out.

He watched as many guys threw themselves at you, begging you to come down so they could have a piece.

What could he expect? You were a beautiful woman blessed with a body others would pay millions for. You could actually dance and you had looks that could kill.

You were a heavily desirable woman. Especially at a party like this where everyone knew of you.

He knew you weren’t gonna go home with any of these guys. None of them stood a chance.

He didn’t understand how he had one if he was honest.

The way you two started— having intercourse was wild and random. Just a random string of flirty led to you giving it up for him.

Goddamnit he missed you. It was a petty argument like usual. Him getting blocked just to get unblocked in the morning.

This time bothered him more than the others. Especially seeing you like this.

“Shoutout to these lovely ladies right here!” Jackson suddenly announced, all three girls surrounding him.

“My day ones right here” He said proudly.

Jackson wrapped his arm around your waist, pecking your cheek.

Interesting.

Jungkook hadn’t realized you two had become so close.

Was he the reason Jungkook wasn’t unblocked yet?

“Especially Ms. Y/n here. Shit would not be possible without her.” He spoke, making everyone cheer. “Everyone treat them well tonight alright?”

Elkie and Seungyeon cheered before Jackson walked off, finishing his announcement.

Why would it not be possible without you?

None of it made sense to Jungkook.

He downed a shot, hissing at the aftermath. It made Jimin look over.

“Someone’s mad.”

“Shut up.” Jungkook huffed. “I have no reason to be.”

The girls were laughing together and drinking a bit more.

Seungyeon kept stealing glances at Taehyung.

“Oh my gosh. She’s going insane.” Elkie pointed out Seungyeon’s constant tabs on Taehyung.

“Alright we’re going upstairs.” You motioned both girls to follow you to the next story.

“Jimin we have to follow them.” Taehyung watched as they left to go upstairs.

The man rolled his eyes.

Jungkook looked over, seeing Jackson look over that way too.

“Yeah.” Jungkook opened up his mouth. “Let’s go.”

The boys shortly followed them, heading upstairs.

This level was just as intense as the first floor. The only difference was that these people smoked a bit more than they drank.

“So many bad bitches in here.” Jimin looked around. “Nice move Tae.”

“Man who cares? Where the hell is she?” Taehyung looked over.

“Goddamnit.” Jimin cursed, forced to walk over to your friend group with Taehyung.

Jungkook wasn’t too thrilled either. Especially because he didn’t know how you were going to be like.

“Hey Seungyeon.” Taehyung approached her, making her instantly turn her head.

Poor girl had been waiting for that man to talk to her all night.

“Oh. Hey.” She kept it short, just like you and Elkie told her to.

“Let me get you and your girl friends some more drinks yeah?” He offered, making it harder to fight and say no.

“Please.” She caved in, making everyone follow them to the bar.

“Fucking great.” Jimin mumbled.


It was awkward as hell. Two odd couples and two random friends all forced to hang out together.

All because of Seungyeon and Taehyung.

Taehyung got all of them drinks like he said, everyone drinking together to ease up a bit.

Taehyung and Seungyeon were lost in their own conversation.

They were so corny it was making everyone extremely nauseous.

“Are you proud of her?” Jimin shook his head, speaking to Elkie. “Your friend single-handedly ruined my friend group.”

“My friend? Your boy here started it all.” She argued.

“Like hell he did. She took advantage of him.” He told her.

She laughed. “Who’s the one who’s supposed to just drop the shit off and go?”

“You can’t blame a man for just tryna get some.” Jimin shrugged. “Not his fault.”

“You’re delusional.” Elkie rolled her eyes.

“I like how you speak to me. You wanna go make out?”

“Sure.” Elkie shrugged, walking off with Jimin.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

You were alone with Jungkook.

“So,” You began to speak. “Which girl in the car was your favorite?”

“Is that seriously how you’re gonna start this?” Jungkook stared you down.

“Hell yeah.” You chuckled. “You’re a fucking prick. You’re childish and you’re just down right stupid. Sending me some photo of some bitches. Made you feel so good being with other girls huh?”

Started off strong already.

“You know what, it did. They didn’t have a fucking loud mouth like you do. Didn’t have to hear a bunch of bullshit every two seconds.”

“See this is exactly why you’re blocked.” You scoffed. “You’re a dick.”

“You block me all the time mama.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Doesn’t mean shit.”

“Probably doesn’t mean anything because you’re too busy with all those other bitches.”

“Me? I’m not the one fucking the party host.” He argued back.

Your eyes widened at the accusation. “Oh wow.”

You weren’t going to deny it.

It wasn’t true. You never slept with Jackson.

But Jungkook thinking that you did was enough to satisfy you.

“We’ll come back to that.” Jungkook poked the inside of his mouth with his tongue.

He was obviously very irritated.

“You’re always so angry.” You groaned.

“Because you just manage to strike that one nerve.” He shook his head.

“You’re so aggressive all the time baby.” You eased him. “Let’s drink some more. Please?”

He shook his head. “Trying to sober up. Someone needs to take you home.”

“I can Uber back.”

“By yourself?” He scoffed. “Fuck no. Your friends are long gone and most likely gonna end up going home with Jimin and Tae. Who can’t drive.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Elkie and Seungyeon were going to town on them. The couples were drunken messes.

You agreed, continuing to drink. You two talked for a bit, somewhat civilly.

The both of you couldn’t help but check each other out.

For you, that alcohol came in through your mouth and went straight to your pussy.

Jungkook’s going straight to his dick. Probably why you two always had sex whenever you hung out.

“Let’s go to Jimin’s car.” Jungkook mumbled lowly to you, making you nod.

Jungkook lets out a low whistle as you walk next to him. He couldn't help but stare at your body.

You were so fucking beautiful, he thought to himself.

The car was a bit far from the entrance. The lot was big so the parking was a bit inconvenient.

However, it was hidden well enough.

He opened the backseat car door for you, waiting for you to get in.

You could sense he was still irritated with you. It was written all over his face and you could sense it in his body language.

His anger and irritation had the opposite effect on you, making your pussy wetter than it already was.

Jungkook started the car, letting out a heavy sigh as he pulled out of the parking lot.

He glanced over at you, his eyes scanning over your body. "You know, you make me so fucking angry sometimes..." He growled, his hand reaching over to grab your thigh.

“It’s not my fault. You started it this time.” You shook your head.

"I didn't start shit," Jungkook retorted, his eyes narrowing at you. "You did. You always fucking do."

He couldn't help but get more and more irritated with you.

The idea of you and Jackson weighed heavy on him.

You were fucking Jungkook for weed. Were you fucking Jackson for drinks and party invites?

“You did last night. That’s exactly why I blocked your ass. Always running your mouth.”

Jungkook's fingers tightened around the steering wheel. He couldn't believe you just said that. "You didn't have to block me. You’re so fucking dramatic."

He snapped at you, his anger getting the best of him. "I fucking hate you sometimes."

“Fine. Just drop me off right here then.” You replied, just as irritated with him now. “I’ll fucking walk home.”

“You're not fucking walking anywhere. I'll take you home." He gritted his teeth.

“Whatever. Just drive me home and you can just get rid of me after. Since that’s what you want so bad.” You folded your arms.

He couldn't believe how much of a stubborn girl you were, but he still couldn't help feeling attracted to you. Even when you were like this. "Why are you so fucking difficult?"

He glared at you for a moment before turning his attention back to the road.

“I’m not even doing anything.” You grabbed your purse once he pulled up to your place.

It was natural for Jungkook to let himself in. He did so again, despite their arguing.

“I thought you would approach me at the party to apologize. But no, you’re just arguing with me because you’re jealous of some guy!” You huffed.

Jungkook scoffed at your words. "Jealous? Fuck no. I just don't like seeing you with other guys, that's it."

“Yeah whatever.” You rolled your eyes, “You’re annoying. Your stupid pride won’t let you just admit it.”

You lifted up the couch cushion, a small bag of pre rolls packed away.

“You know what? Fine. I was jealous when I saw you with Jackson. Are you happy now? I fucking admitted it.

“Gonna fucking smoke with me or what?” She looked at him, ignoring him. “Got your two favorite things right here. Weed and arguing.”

He ignored her, grabbing his own preroll and lighting it up with her lighter.

“That’s all you’re gonna say?” He scoffed.

“Do you want a fucking cookie? Congrats, you actually told me the truth for once.” She took a few hits. “So you were jealous”

“Yeah, I fucking was. I don't like seeing you with other guys Y/n. It makes me want to rip their fucking heads off." He chuckled and shook his head. "Especially him.”

“Isn’t Jackson your homeboy?”

“Exactly. Why the fuck would I want to be fucking on the same girl as my bro? That makes me look like a fucking loser.” He glared at you.

“We were just catching up. We’ve known each other for mad long.” You defended.

Jungkook couldn't help but stare at you as you took a hit from the roll. He felt a surge of jealousy, but he tried to push it down.

"Just fucking catchin' up huh? With his bitch ass?" He chuckled and shook his head. "I know what kinda guy he is.”

“I know you’re not talking. Tell me, Jungkook. How many girls do you sell to that don’t pay cash? Too busy selling with their bodies.” She looked at him.

“Yeah? You’re gonna fucking start this shit again?” He chuckled, anger written all over his face. “I’ve told you the same shit over and over Y/n. I’m not fucking anyone else but you.”

“Car full of sleezy bitches all climbing on you? Yeah okay. Find that fucking hard to believe.

Jungkook understands your skepticism. Especially with the type of guys he hung around.

“Tell me this Jungkook.” You began, “How come it’s an issue when I’m with Jackson but when you’re with all these other girls I’m just supposed to believe you.”

Jungkook leaned in, his expression more serious now. He muttered. “I don’t want to do you like that.”

"I just get fucking pissed when I see other guys trying to fuck what's mine." He cocked his eyebrow.

“You’re annoying.”

Jungkook's gaze never left yours face as you rolled your eyes. He could tell you were irritated with him, but he didn't back down.

"I'm annoying cause I don't like seeing other guys around my girl?" He raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t like all these fucking guys tryna hop on you.” His eyes darkened as he stared down at you.

“I get it.” She sighed.

“Mm I don’t think you do.” He shook his head.

Jungkook turned you around, pushing you against the couch. "Fuck you piss me off. You’re just so fucking sexy" He growled, pinning your hands above your head.

"You're gonna let me fuck you like this?” He looked at you. “Because I’m fucking angry. And I’m not sure I’ll be able to give you that slow and lovey shit right now.”

You simply nodded. You swallowed hard, knowing exactly what was going to happen.

Weed made you horny.

Alcohol made you horny.

And you were definitely cross faded.

“Fucking open your mouth.” He moved his hand, now slapping you across your cheek.

It wasn’t enough to really hurt, but enough to leave a sting.

He seen your facial expression change. “No way. You actually like that shit?”

You two always had rough and angry sex. With the amount of times you two pissed each other off, it was like second nature.

This time was different. Jungkook was livid.

“I do.” You swallowed. “N-No condom tonight please.”

This was the first time ever. You never thought those words would ever leave your lips.

You needed it bad tonight. Real bad.

“Oh wow.” He laughed sarcastically. “You’re that sick? You get onto me every fucking day for asking to hit it raw. Now you want to?”

He almost couldn’t believe it. “Letting me toss you around like a fucking ragdoll. He fucking teach you about that shit?”

“N-No Jungkook.”

He slapped you once again. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”

“I promise. He didn’t.” You pleaded.

Jungkook let out a deep breath, knowing you submitted to him.

He moved his hand to your neck, squeezing enough for you to feel.

“Fucking embarrassing me.” He slid his pants down. “Got all my fucking friends talking about you. That what you wanted?”

“N-No.” You swallowed.

He slipped your skirt up, sliding your panties to the side.

He forcefully pushed himself inside, giving you not a single warning. “You let him fuck you raw did you?”

Staying still for a moment, knowing he would soon start fucking you with all the frustration he had in him.

“N-No I didn’t Jungkook.” You honestly replied.

“Not my fucking name.” He warned.

“You clearly wanted his attention Y/n. You think I ain’t notice that shit today?” His grip on your neck got slightly tighter.

“Changed your hair. Spending money to look good for him. Didn’t look in my fucking direction once. Get some new dick and you forget what you already have? Forgot about daddy’s dick?” He scoffed.

Jungkook's thrusts became more powerful, as he let out all the anger and jealousy he felt towards Jackson.

“T-That’s not what I—“

Jungkook's grip tightened on your hips, as he started thrusting. "Shut the fuck up Y/n." He grumbled, as he started pounding harder.

He smacked your ass, leaving a red mark. "Didn’t think you’d be this fuckin’ tight. Figured he stretched this pussy out.”

“H-He didn’t”

“You really have the fucking guys to speak to me right now?” He slapped her.

“Mmph— sorry daddy”

Jungkook grinned, hearing the slight tremble in your voice.

You couldn’t help but be turned on by how angry he was. How degrading he spoke to you.

Him expressing how jealous he was of Jackson definitely did a number on you.

"This.. is all yours, Y/n. It always has been." He slapped your face. "Don't.. you dare fuckin' look at him again. Don’t you fuckin’

dare question if I’m with other bitches or not.”

“Won’t— promise Daddy” She apologized.

Jungkook's expression changed to an angered confusion, as you apologized. "Sorry? You think.. You fuckin' deserve my mercy?"

He hissed as he stopped thrusting, grabbed you and forced you on all four. "I'll show you fuckin' sorry."

“You're mine to fuck. Mine to spoil. Mine to hug. Mine to love.” He grabbed your hair and pulled it back, as he started thrusting hard again. "And you just fucking gave that away?”

“No I— Daddy no I didn’t.” You whimpered.

Jungkook's thrusts became more violent as his anger continued to fuckin boil. "You.. You fuckin' slut," He growled and smacked your ass hard once again.

“D-Didn’t fuck him.” You confessed, swallowing. “N-Never fucked him.”

Jungkook stopped thrusting, his expression was furious, he looked at you with pure shock.

"You didn't fuck him?" He repeated between gritted teeth, not entirely sure if he should believe you or not. “Are you serious?”

“N-Never fucked him.” She hit her lip.

“So you lied?” His voice was low.

“I just never denied anything you said.” She confessed, a bit ashamed now that she was confessing out loud.

"Wow Y/n." He murmured lowly, making a pause in his thrusts, as he looked at you with confusion and shock. "And you made me do all this.”

“I-“ She felt her stomach drop.

Jungkook scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. He was still holding you by the throat, a little tighter now as his cock started to thrust intensely again. "Yeah, you did.”

Jungkook grunted, his thrusts became louder and more intense, holding you tighter. "You're a fucking slut.."

He whispered in a low voice, his hand starting to squeeze around your throat. He pulled himself out a bit to slap your face.

“Pulled all that just for some dick? Seriously Y/n?” He grunted into your ear.

“So sorry Daddy” She apologized softly, the sensual nickname slipping from her lips.

Upon hearing you call him "Daddy" his thrusts became more intense. Hearing it made him weak everytime.

A low growl sounded out from his throat again as your body was pushed back onto the bed with each thrust deeper into you.

He snickered, his hand reaching down to slap your ass cheek, hard. "You're a fucking whore.." He moans, his thrusts are so hard that he's smacking against your body. He leaned in to bite your neck.

“Finally got the dick you wanted? I can’t fucking believe you pulled that shit.” He grunted, utterly shocked. “Can’t fucking believe you did that.”

His thrusts became even more forceful, each hard smack against your ass echoing around you.

He moans as he bites into your shoulder, teeth grinding into your skin angrily. "Why'd you fucking lie to me?" He growls into your ear.

“Wanted you— Wanted your attention.” She whimpered. “Wanted to see how you felt.”

“Yeah? That’s how you fuckin’ wanted me to confess?” He roars out angrily, his grip tightening almost painfully.

“I-It worked…” She boldly whispered.

His glare is fire as he grabs your throat, pulling you back to look into your eyes.

"You like it when I get tell you how I feel? You fuckin’ like it?” He growls out, squeezing your throat tighter for a moment before letting go.

“I liked it Daddy” She bit her lip.

His jaw almost cracks from the intensity of his teeth grinding as he hears your response.

He begins to fuck you harder, losing his anger and going into a frenzy. "You’re so fucking lucky I love to abuse this pussy.”

“Shit feels so fuckin’ good Daddy— Fuck” She cursed repeatedly.

A low groan rips from his throat, feeling your walls squeezing around him at your curse. He liked when you talked dirty. “So fucking pretty like this.”

“Lying about other dudes is different for you baby..” He huffed. “You love this dick huh baby? Tell me.”

“Yes Daddy— I fuckin’ do.” You nodded quickly.

He leans back down, biting at your bottom lip and nodding.

"That's right, you love this dick, mama. Fucking take it then." He spoke lowly, encouraging you to get more vocal and naughty while he pounds into you.

“Feels so much fucking better raw.” She rolled her eyes back. “Should’ve fucking let you months ago.”

He lets out a growl, feeling how tight your walls are on him with no condom. He nods, agreeing and liking the feeling of you raw.

"That's right mama. You ain’t believe me when I said you were the only one. Should’ve been let me hit it raw.” He chuckled. “Gonna fuck you so good now though."

He's on the brink of losing it, he knows he's about to cum soon.

He looks down at you who’s absolutely fucked dumb on his cock.

He curses, slowing down just a tad. "You fucking loving that we're doing it raw now?”

“Feels so much fucking better now. W-Want you to cum inside too.” You begged, making his eyes widened.

“Are you serious?”

“W-Want it so bad I— Please.”

He groans, loving the idea at your request. “Pretty girl gonna let me cum inside, I couldn’t ask for more.”

He speeds up a little bit, slamming into you roughly and grunting. "That's right, fucking want my cum? Wanna turn mama into more than just a nickname huh?”

He dirty talked her so good.

“Mm yes Daddy yes.” She swallowed.

His eyes grow wide at the idea but he smirks while he continues to thrust into you hard, making a dirty scene in his head.

"That's right, I wanna fill your womb up with my kids, make them from your tight fucking pussy, don't fight it mama. So close” He mumbled in her ear.

“Shit I’m close too.”

He knows he's close too, groaning almost in pain from not cumming yet. He continues to fuck you relentlessly as you near the edge.

"Shit! Cum on my cock mama, you need to cum, you want to cum so bad don't you?"

“Cumming fuck” She immediately let go of the feeling building up in her stomach.

He's right on the edge with you, his cock swells up before he pulls out and shoots his hot load to the side of your stomach, he's not ready for kids, at least not yet.

He slumps backwards and curses. "Fucking shit.”

The two were panting on the couch, struggling to catch their breaths.

She panted. “I’m sorry for lying Jungkook. It was wrong of me to lie to you.”

He smirks and shakes his head but still looks at you with an amused expression.

"No need to apologize momma, we're fucking both dirty. Besides we both liked it didn't we?" He winks and wraps an arm around you.

“You’re really not mad?”

“I mean it irritated me a lot when I thought you fucked him.” He sighed. “I’m just relieved now.”

“When I told you I haven’t been with anyone else I meant it.” You told him. “That’s not

something I would lie about. Especially after I pressed you for so long.”

“I know. When I seen him touch you like that I just— I thought I lost you.” He looked at you. “I just kinda thought you were using me.”

“It’s not about weed for me anymore Jungkook.” You swallowed. “It hasn’t been for a while.”

“It was never about the weed for me.” He confessed. “I just wanted to see you since the beginning.”

“You thought that was a secret?” You couldn’t help but snort.

“Okay I’m never being vulnerable with you again.” He shook his head.

[fallingformatt]

SINCE WE’RE PLAYING GAMES M.S.

Matt x fem!reader

summary: what happens when you try to cheat your way to win a game of twister?

warnings: SMUTTTTTTTT! unprotected sex, slight bdsm.

word count: 2.5k

a/n: Yall are some freaky fucking fucks… over a thousand notes on my post? Yall are insane, im so thankful for yall dirty minded ass people. I truly did not expect that to happen on my second post ever. And thank you all for almost 300 followers yall are the GOATS!!!

Let me know if I should write a pt. 2 for FIRST GLANCE M.S. available here

post is not proofread

➽───────────────❥

I'm currently at the triplet's house. The sun is setting, casting a beautiful orange hue to the living room where we all are sitting, drinking some drinks, and just talking. The music in the background isn't loud but I can hear it clearly.

"I'm bored, let's do something fun," Matt says looking down into his half-empty cup. "Well I don't have any ideas," Chris shrugs his shoulders. "I have an amazing idea," Nick yells, startling me. "Nick, you scared me, I almost spilled my drink," I say out loudly slapping his shoulder. "Please ask me what my idea is, please, please, please," Nick tries to plead to make us ask him what his idea is.

"So what is ur 'amazing' idea?" I ask looking at him with a serious face. "We're all gonna play twister," Nick says ecstatically clapping his hands together like a kid. "No Nick, we are not playing twister, we're not five," Matt says annoyed. "Oh look I'm Matt, I'm so tuff and boring, I don't like to have fun," Nick mocks Matt, making me and Chris laugh.

"Well I don't know about y'all, but I'm tipsy, there's no way I could play twister right now," Matt says tugging on the collar of his black t-shirt, his eyes from across the room to meet mine, sending butterflies to my stomach.

I've always had a little crush on Matt, but I never really did anything about it, because I didn't want to ruin the friendship between us. I mean yeah, sure I would sometimes tease him, wearing something revealing, making his eyes wander to places they shouldn't, for example, today, I was wearing short, low-waisted shorts and a small leopard print baby tee, but I knew that, me doing something with Matt would probably change the dynamics of the group as a whole, so I left it as is, hoping my crush on Matt would sooner or later die down.

"You're just scared that you'll lose, so I have a proposition, whoever loses takes a shot of vodka," Nick says proudly. "That's the dumbest thing I have heard in my life," Matt says crossing his arms. "Well, as far as I know, five-year-olds can't drink vodka, so who's the five-year-old now huh?" Nick defends his idea. "We all are a bit tipsy so the chances of you winning are fair, you're just a pussy," Nick says trying to provoke Matt. "Yeah Matt, don't be a pussy," Chris joins in. "Okay, that's it, we're playing, and I'm going to win," Matt says and smiles confidently. Nick claps his hands excitedly as he stands up and walks to the pile of board games that are stacked on a shelf above the TV.

"Found it! Y'all are going down, I hope y'all like the taste of losing, because y'all are gonna be licking the L's shortly," Nick says with a devious smile. "Okay, this one's clearly had more than enough to drink," Matt says as he facepalms.

Nick sets up the game, laying the playing pad down on the floor and placing the spinner next to the mat. "So, who wants to go first?" Nick says grinning. "I'll go," Chris answers and bends down to spin the indicator. "Right foot on red." He says out loud and steps on the playing mat. We all take our turns and the game is starting to get intense.

"Nick you are going to lose," Matt says his voice getting higher at the end of the sentence. The poses we are in are criminal. We are four, grown adults standing on this little mat, meant for children. At this point in the game, the slightest movement could make us all fall down. "Chris, you look like a deformed frog," I say as I'm laughing, almost snorting. Chris's right foot is still on red, his left foot is on blue, his right hand on blue, in front of his left leg, and his left hand is in front of his right leg. Nick is chilling in a comfortable position, meanwhile, I'm stretched out, so close to fall.

We all spin a few times. When all of a sudden Chris loses his balance and falls. "Hah, it wasn't even your turn, you're out, take a shot," Nick yells, happy that he's still in the game. "This is so annoying, 100 bucks on Nick falling next," Chris says as he takes a shot of vodka. I'm now in a compromising position, both of my hands are on red and my feet are on green and yellow, my position is leaving my ass high up in the air. Nick is now barely staying in the game.

"Nick it's your turn," Chris says out loudly, the alcohol he's had, making him unaware of the volume he's speaking in. Nick spins the spinner, "right hand green," Chris says. As Nick tried to move his hand, he lost his balance and fell. "Fuck," he yells out as he stands up. "Where my money at?" Chris says as he hands Nick a shot of vodka.

"Spin it," I say to Matt, and he does. "Left hand red," I say and Matt starts to move his left hand. Now both of his hands need to be on red and the only place in order for him not to fall is on either side of my hands. As he moves over me he brushes against my ass making me lose my balance slightly. Placing his hand next to mine, his head is now next to mine, "sorry," he says quietly, his hot breath brushing against my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

It's now my turn and if I don't think of something quickly, I'm going to lose. I look over my shoulder to see what Chris and Nick are doing, they are currently in the kitchen getting some drinks. My lips move making a small grin, this is perfect.

As I reach for the spinner, I pop up my ass, making it brush against Matt's crotch. "Right hand red, looks like I'm safe for now," I say as I turn to Matt, a smirk appearing on my lips.

After taking my turn, I move back, again brushing against his crotch, now feeling something hard. "Don't do that," Matt says in an almost moaning tone. "Do what?" I say looking at him. "Don't try to act all innocent," he says in a serious tone. "It's your turn," I say, a smile plastered on my face.

Matt takes his turn and spins the spinner, "left foot green," He says, looking at the spinner. As he tries to move, I once again pop up my ass, making him brush against it once again, the tension on his crotch getting too much for him, making him lose his balance and he falls. "Ha, I win," I say as I stand up clapping my hands together. Nick and Chris rush over to the living room.

"Did Matt lose?" Nick asks. "Yeah because she cheated," he says, anger and frustration can be heard in his voice. "What did I do, that counts as cheating?" I ask, raising one eyebrow, as a smirk creeps on my lips again, knowing he can't say anything without explaining him further. "Nothing," Matt murmurs. "What's that? I couldn't hear you," I tease him. "I said, nothing," Matt raises his voice, standing up and storming off to his room.

"I am too drunk for this," Chris says throwing up his hands as he turns around and heads to his room. "Can you help me clean this up?" I ask Nick, and he nods kneeling down.

We cleaned everything up and put the game back in its place. "You ready to head to bed?" Nick asks. "You go, I'm going to come later, I'm going to check on Matt," I say as I start walking to Matt's room. "Goodnight Nick," I say smiling. "Goodnight." He answers.

Without knocking I open the door to Matt's room. "Hey, you okay?" I ask as I look at him. He's sitting on the edge of his bed looking straight at me. "I was waiting for you to come in, want to play a game?" Matt says. "Sure, what game?" I ask unsure what game he had planned.

"Since we're playing games, let's play a game you can't cheat in," he says a smirk creeping on his lips. "Simon says, close the door," Matt says. Oh shit, we're already playing. I close the door not moving an inch. "Simon says turn around and lock the door," his voice getting deeper. I do as he says. "Simon says turn back around and stand in front of me," he says. As I turn around, about to walk in front of Matt, my eyes meet his, his eyes grow dark and his lips form a slight grin.

"Simon says strip," he says his tone getting even deeper, a hint of lust accompanying his voice. "What?" I ask, my voice slightly trembling. "You heard me, Simon says strip," he repeats. I start off by taking off my baby tee throwing it on the ground leaving my upper body fully naked. I slip out of my shorts, letting them fall to my ankles before stepping out of them. I pick up my head to look at Matt, he stares me up and down licking his lips.

He stands up and walks closer to me, his hands move my hair to one side of my shoulder, then proceeds to leave a wet kiss on the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. His hand reaches over my body, touching my neck as he stands behind me "Left hand red." He says as slides his hand down my neck stopping at my breast. He massages my boob, pulling on my nipple making me moan.

"You like that?" He whispers in my ear. I don't answer. "Simon says answer," Matt says as his other hand slides down into my panties, pressing his finger against my clit before rubbing circles, making me moan. "Yes Matt I like that," I say as I throw back my head resting it on Matt's shoulder. He pulls out his hand, "Simon says turn around," Matt says and as soon as I do, he smashes his lips onto mine.

Matt wraps his hand around my waist taking small steps, leading us to his bed without breaking the kiss. I brush against his clothed cock, rubbing it slightly before I feel a slap on my hand making me break the kiss, I look up. "Nuh uh," Matt says shaking his finger, "Simon didn't say," he smirks and pulls his black t-shirt over his head throwing it to the ground next to my clothes.

He removes his belt, sliding it out of the belt loops of his oversized jean shorts, making them slide down a little, revealing the band of his boxers. He looks at me before moving his gaze to my hands.

"Simon says, extend your hands." His voice was demanding, I brought out my hands, and he grabbed them and put them together before wrapping and tying them together with his belt.

Matt puts his hand on my hips pushing them back, guiding me backward. As I take steps backward, I eventually fall on his bed. He crawls on top of me, spreading my legs with his knee, making space for himself.

He yanks up my hands by the tied belt, pinning them above my head, immediately, Matt attacks my neck with his lips, leaving a trail of kisses from my neck to my breasts, he kisses softly, slipping in a few bites. His hand slides up my thigh, stopping at my heat, his thumb starts to draw circles on my clit.

"Matt," I moan out. "Shhh, we don't want Nick or Chris hearing us do we?" He says looking up at me, taking his lips off of my breast. I shake my head in response and he smirks, "good girl," he says as he continues to rub circles on my clit his lips now moving back from my breast to my collarbone to my jaw before meeting my lips.

"Matt," I moan out as I try to pull my hands out of his grip. "Matt what?" He says as his hands push harder on mine, making sure I can't move. "Please, I need you," I whimper. He lets go of my hands and pulls away from my clit, making me let out a whimper from the loss of contact.

I immediately bring my hands down to my clit and start rubbing circles on my clit, pleasuring myself. As he unbuttons his jeans, he notices my hands, he grabs and pins them above my head again. "Are you gonna make me punish you?" He says his voice filthy and dark. "No," I say, shaking my head and looking at him. "Yeah, be a good girl for me," Matt says practically growling.

I move up and down my hips trying to get some relief as I watch him undo his jean shorts pulling them down, his boxers with them making his cock spring out, hitting his lower abdomen, precum glistening on his tip. Matt looks at me, "see what your little strategy to win did to me," he says raising his eyebrow.

"Please Matt, I can't take it anymore," I say as I scoot closer. Matt moves on top of me pinning my hands again, his other hand sliding my panties to the side before aligning himself with my heat. He pushes his cock in slowly before pulling it out almost completely, then pushing back in hard. "Oh- my- god- Matt-" I moan out between thrusts, his hand moving over my mouth to muffle my moans.

Matt fastens his thrusts, with each thrust going in deeper, making me moan out loud, he leans into my ear. "That's it, sweetheart, take my cock so good," Matt growls, pushing in me deeper than ever, his tip hitting my g-spot with every thrust. "Mmmm Matt you feel so good, I'm close," I moan out feeling my climax creeping up tension building in my stomach.

Matt moves his elbow next to my head, positioning himself so he's able to thrust even deeper. I arch my back as the pleasure takes over my body. His quiet moans landed in my ear, his hot breath sending me over the edge.

"Matt, I'm about to cum," I moan out. He smashes his lips onto mine in order to contain my moans as he plants a few more thrusts before I feel my walls tighten around his length, feeling the knot in my stomach releasing, my climax coming over me, I moan into the kiss. His hips continue to move as he thrusts in me a few more times before planting his cum inside me groaning, breaking the kiss.

He pulls out falling next to me, turning his head to look at me. "Who won?" He says smirking. "I did," I answer smiling, knowing this will piss him off. "Can you untie me?" I say as I shake my hands. "You didn't say Simon says," Matt answers teasing me back. "Simon says round two," I say as a devilish smirk appears on my lips.

I guess I won't be heading to Nick's room tonight.

[beastyeastfreak]

Ancients / GN! Shape shifting reader

Well yall wanted me to write for ancients too, so i figured why not return to my roots and rewrite the first post i did on this blog but for the ancients now that im writing for them!

Ill be prioritising beast asks though, sorry this is a beast fan account lolll

Cw and tags: collection of oneshits, takes place before beast yeast episodes, definitely not vague lots of defined reader lore for each oneshot, romantic, implied depression, reader has some connection to the beasts, angsty

Dark Cacao

⚔️ - Your appearances were few but each strike was enough to cause ripples across the kingdoms nearby. It wasn’t often you attacked. You weren’t exactly hostile, just a being that pillaged a town then moved onto the next, surprisingly no fatalities just survivors with injuries both mental and physical. Dark Cacao’s kingdom was not the first to meet you. You traveled all along the cold areas of crispia before trailing closer and closer.

⚔️ - Dark Cacao had heard incessant gossiping from the aristocrats. A horrendous creature, they said. One day they spoke of it being a bulky armored covered monster, the next a cookie who looked just a little off… Another would whisper that their cousin had faced it head on, it had no specific form but to scare them it had taken the form of a great dragon. His interest had peaked, and the sword at his side resonated with the same interest. If this shifter decided to show its face, he would handle it personally. He assigned more guards at the borders, tension grew. A town just shy of the kingdom had been torn up in the night, help arrived in the morning. No fatalities still.

⚔️ - Your arrival had fanfare, not loud but it was announced. The birds stopped chirping and the animals hid all day in burrows. Even some larger predators seem to shy from the open areas. The day dragged, everyone seemed on edge, everyone now assigned to civilisation of any kind, the being only attacked small towns so as threat loomed he ensured citizens would be protected.

⚔️ - Dusk settled on pristine snow, he began to patrol the castle walls. Below, against the snow he saw a lone cake hound, he watched quietly as it innocently trotted up to the wall of the citadel, looked around and suddenly turned into a robed cookie. Ah, it intended on stealing from him, and here he was preparing all the weaker points. He did not move, he stood still, then when you climbed to the top he grabbed you by the arm. Standing without a word while you began to claw, and change, and scratch, regardless he held on staring coldly. Eventually you loosen up, his grip does not waver. You’re no dragon, you actually seem quite frail for a cookie. “You would have been wise to steer away from this kingdom,” his brows knit. “Fine! I’ll go, put me down.” You hiss and kick at his chest, its like kicking a brick wall. “No, you must answer for what you’ve done,” he says and places you down so you can walk but still holding your arm. “What?! Seriously! I didn’t do anything!” You yell out as he drags you into the fortress.

⚔️ - You’re placed in a cell impossible to escape from no matter how small or large you make yourself, apparently its mercy by their standards. You gain the affection of whoever’s bringing you food in the beginning. If fact new guards have to constantly be appointed because of how you continue to win their hearts over. Finally, he decides to just bring you your food every day, and unfortunately he falls victim to it too. The first instance of resolution slowly cracking was pity, you scarfed down food like you hadn’t been fed in years. He occasionally spotted you looking longingly out a window or the sound of your form shifting.

⚔️ - He cracked, one day he delivered food and asked, “why did you harm those beneath you?” He says, you’re throwing a ball up at the ceiling and back down again, except the ball also seemed apart of your body. “We all gotta eat, not that it really matters i guess since we’re all going to die anyway,” you respond nonchalantly. “So you’d hurt the innocent to feed yourself?” He said incredulously. “I didn’t hurt anyone, just stole… and broke some stuff,” you say. He stares for a moment then leaves.

⚔️ - He comes back the next day and opens the door, “you will join my kingdom, i will keep you fed and you will listen to me.” He says, ecstatically you agree.

⚔️ - The next few months were hard work, you had to regain the trust of cookies you once saw as stepping stones. Many of those who you now had to stand beside at meetings you would have had to scare off. Your talents were indispensable, a jack of all trades one could say.

⚔️ - Once you were fed, out of a crummy cell and out and about you were flourishing. Obviously Dark Cacao kept a close eye on you for his own interest, to train you, and course you not getting away. That allowed you to become close with him, there were many times you found yourself in his cloak, or sleeping on his shoulder in the form of a small animal. Though in many cookies eyes you were an outcast, when you two were by yourself you were close. He had never been this close with anyone, you had little chance to be.

⚔️ - As you adjusted to the snow, dapples of white or a snowy coat would become frequent on your body. At first thats where he thought it’s end, just a new shade of camouflage. Then the closer you two seemed to get and the longer you stayed, he noticed occasionally within the black were small sharp diamond shaped specs. Any time he’d run his hand over your bare back as you slept or hold your cheek before a kiss, those specks seemed to temporarily grow in size. He finds it amusing, he wishes he had something he could keep on himself that reminded him of you.

⚔️ - He found himself more and more fond of you by the day. He was a mighty king, unmoving in the face of danger. He showed nothing, just stalwart silence. Yet you didn’t do that, you proudly displayed colors. You were always changing, even in deep sleep where your best dreams were black and purple. There was always a new pattern, a little change but even then, some part of him remained there. You were one of his subjects now, he’d protect you as such.

Golden Cheese

☀️ - The golden city was a perfect, pristine paradise she had carefully planned and constructed for her citizens and only her citizens. So it irked her to no and that pesky bugs would dare try inflitrate and harm what was hers! Of course her assistants would always do an impeccable job in maintaining the city, keeping everything in order and above all prevent it from happening again. Yet one day, something unfamiliar wormed its way into the city.

☀️ - Mozzarella cookie had spotted a rather hefty glitch one day, quite large for a beetle but took care of it regardless. Well, the very next day another bug popped up in the same place, the ritual would be repeated again, and again and again until Golden Cheese herself took notice. “It’s almost like the same entity is trying to break in under different forms.. i haven’t seen anything like this.” Mozzarella cookie would say. Insulted was the first emotion, some one was desperately clawing their way in to harm her subjects?! Her treasure?! But then it became sharp fear, a pit in her stomach. Someone was getting in. She of course did not let this fear show, she told Mozzarella cookie to let this entity in and track them down so she could have a word with them.

☀️ - Things are quiet for a while, no bugs, no issues, no mention of some terrible cookie rampaging about. The relative silence only makes her more anxious. At some point she does find you though, although not realizing its you. She visits her room filled with treasure, coins stacked to the roof, golden chalices filled with never ending ambrosia and shiny rare trinkets litter the shelves. Her treasure, just the mere sight of it, calms her down. She gazes upon art while idly swirling a shiny cup. Somewhere down another room she hears movement. With haste she walks over, “is someone there? This room is off limits,” she called out and heard scrambling. She opens the door to find…

A cat?

☀️ - She watches as this feline jumps onto a pile of gold and tries to escape out a window with a scroll in its mouth. She quickly flies over and grabs it, “what a greedy little creature you are! Stealing from my treasures are you?” She pulls the scroll from the cat’s mouth, it was a map of the old kingdom. She had it in a tightly closed box on the wall, how this cat managed to pull it out was beyond her. It began to try and pull away, swatting and hissing. She just laughed, finding it cute. “I think i will keep you, very few have the ability to trespass into my abode.” She says, your disappointment is plentiful.

☀️ - You tried to escape the first night she captured you, but that very night Smoked Cheese caught you and placed an irremovable collar that would track your position on you. You were stuck, beginning to wish you had chosen a different kingdom to hide in. As for how you’re treated? In the beginning it was degrading, stupid outfits, horrible name ideas, being petted. Then it began to work a little, you hinted at whatever your name actually was and she took it, she began to give you more regal attire and you got your own servant strangely. You felt, weirdly enough, worshipped which even being given a place to stay was more than you usually had. She seemed like she needed a companion especially after all she went through, it made it harder to leave.

☀️ - You knew you couldn’t stay though, you were a whole cookie hiding as a cat, you couldn’t abuse her trust like this (besides her assistants were becoming suspicious). So you plotted your escape, after a month of lounging around in luxury, cared for by Golden Cheese, you snuck out in your actual form. You assumed that in a different form, the tracking wouldn’t work. You were wrong. You got about 20 feet within the glitch you escaped from before you were caught and dragged back to golden cheese.

☀️ - At first, it seemed as though she would be angry, but she wasn’t. Standing tall like a judge with the face of someone who found this all amusing if anything. Through conversation she understood your motives and why you decided to leave despite the fact you could have just lied and stayed a cat the rest of your life. To your surprise, she offers to let you stay. You accept obviously, you didn’t want to go back to a place of battle and hardship.

☀️ - She stays close to you even after you aren’t a cat anymore. She does find interest in your ability to become other animals and even more mythical beings. She seems to slowly get closer to you again over time, still lavishing you in gifts, still talking about her day to you, making sure you’re well fed. She still refers to you as ‘pet’ or ‘treasure’ as a nickname, but she still sees you as a cookie of course. Once you begin to return the affection it only multiplies, she practically pulls you into her lap sometimes without much of a warning. She’ll string a necklace of pure gold around your neck and tell you its yours without asking if you wanted it. She feeds every greedy desire of yours.

☀️ - Eventually you start to realize how in place you were here, as in you were changing to mold against her. Any markings on your face slowly began to shimmer before completely changing to accentuate whatever she gave you. The animals you changed into were more often naturally occurring in the area. Whenever she was close to you, you seemed to naturally glow. She notices this, makes sure you’re constantly near her. Kissing along your neck watching pulses of color matching hers appear. Where once you were rough and unpolished she had undone that and revealed new colors you thought incapable.

Hollyberry

🍻 - Your skills as a shape shifting warrior were well known during the Dark Flour War resonated loudly among your kingdom. You defended the Hollyberry kingdom with such intensity and ferocity, even the ancients took notice of it, more specifically your queen Hollyberry. As battles raged with no clear end, when you had everyone’s back she was there to provide her shield and her encouragement.

🍻 - Everything was looking up for you, at least you thought it was. After the Dark Flour war she left the kingdom, she left you. You were given your titles worthy of your fighting, but Hollyberry was not there. In her absence, her son Royalberry had taken over who often invited you to the palace. You shared war stories at a dinner table, you uplifted as many cookies as you could. All the while searching for any sign of Hollyberry returning, and every search you came back with less hope. All the things you wanted to say to her, all the cups you could have shared before she left…

🍻 - You would always be there to protect anyone and everyone, even if Hollyberry was missing. The feeling of constant impending attack always loomed over you. On lonely nights you wonder if thats why she left, among other reasons. To try and fight this constant dread and fear, you shift less, take on less responsibilities in defense, you lose passion and color. Slowly, you faded into just another cookie, your transformation only quickened when the dragon came. Invasive was the beast, it made its home sipping juice and eating jelly’s and all were powerless to stop it, including you. It felt hopeless, you couldn’t even return the looks at you when they stared at you for help.

🍻 - Pitaya Dragon knew of your battle prowess, but when you hid away it only angered them. They became rowdy and impatient for someone to fight, some questioned why you weren’t fighting back. Finally the dam broke and you weren’t sure why. What sounded like buildings falling echoed through the entire palace, followed by roars and people running. What seemed like a great day had turned into a disaster in minutes.

🍻 - You stood in the crowd of nobles running away, your eyes catch onto a tall figure standing still. That pink hair, those eyes.. could it be? She sees you and walks over, “Y/N! i barely recognized you! Come on, let’s give this dragon a piece of our mind!” She says patting your back and beginning to walk ahead with great confidence. She hadn’t changed, you walked behind her. You exclaimed, “i can’t!” She stopped and turned to you, “come on! You have me, we can take them on!” You stared up at her, scared of what she’d think. “I cant shape shift anymore,” you blurted.

🍻 - “Im sure you can!” She says but you cannot respond before her hands come to your shoulders. “I know you can, if you can’t for the sake of fighting this dragon, then do it for me! I need your help, will you fight beside me one more time, friend?” She speaks, and a fire that had long been extinguished arose in your heart. What were you saying, of course you could fight with her, you were a shape shifting, Hollyberrian, enemy wiping machine! Valiantly, you both ran into battle, and for the first time in many years you changed, you fought and you won.

🍻 - It seemed like once all the damage was repaired, the first thing she did was drag you to the juice cellar and down a barrel or two with you. You both recalled your tales and got close as you did all those years ago. A couple good sparring matches got you back in fighting order, and it made you realize how good it felt to move around in a different body! She seems to encourage your shifting, when it starts to get monotonous she’ll pat your back and tell you “you tapping out already?” She understands breaks though, and she helps you readjust to the way things used to be.

🍻 - Unsaid feelings seem to come out quicker when they’ve been hidden away for so long, thankfully (to no ones surprise) it’s reciprocated. You’re spending practically every day with her to make up for lost time. She holds you so close you swear you hear your dough cracking, her gaze always lingers on you like its the last time she’ll get the chance. She relishes each form, relating it to past forms you’ve taken mostly. You’ve both grown, gain scars, you compare them often.

🍻 - Theres never a dull moment, always a promise of excitement with her. Even at night within sleep it’s a battlefield of blanket hogging and kicking, or attempting to smother the other in their sleep. She ensures you that come what may, whatever beasts she faces and battles you fight she’ll always make sure you’re behind her shield when you need it or in her arms when you’re in too deep.

Pure Vanilla

🍦 - The mysterious and frankly horribly uncharted woods around the floating vanilla kingdom was festered with dangerous creatures. Cookies were a great target, monsters loved to sink their teeth into crunchy dough, which meant as king (and a healer) he needed to limit who ventures into rough lands and their exact travels. Of course, where there was danger there was reward, and someone had found something particularly significant. One of the explorers had came up to him and handed him a scroll, holding it up to his staffs eye to read it. It was a map to a seemingly mythical structure holding scrolls of knowledge dating back to long ago, guarded by a massive shape shifting being.

🍦 - At first, Pure Vanilla shut it down, war was on the horizon and the kingdom needed to prepare. Though, for a few nights as he drifted to sleep he was kept awake by the fact he would never know what was in there. If it was real then someone else could find it, someone like Dark Enchantress cookie. Finally he caved, he assembled a team and someone to watch the kingdom in his absence. They set out in the morning, after a day of walking they arrived at an overgrown stone gate, the letters worn off. Within the walls was a once beautiful garden, many places to read and write. The building was still intact, teeming with ancient magic.

🍦 - He began to walk the path to the entrance ahead of the others, a statue stood of a cookie but it was so overgrown he could only see the worn down base. He took a step forward and the statue began to crack and move and soon the vines fell of revealing a great monster wound in sharp vines. “Begone, travelers, I will not repeat myself,” It bellowed shaking the earth. As it moved, it roared and began to swipe and attack. With each new form it took on came an unexpected challenge. The team began to fight back, but Pure Vanilla noticed something. The way it moved, although frightening and certainly dangerous it’s stance felt uncomfortable. It took on another shape, he began to realize the thorny vines it wrapped itself in were digging into it, and no matter what size they changed to it was the same.

🍦 - The only reason that would be is unkept magic, this being was left behind by its creator but the magic binding it to its duty had to be maintained like the garden. The being was in pain, and there was no defeating it at this rate, he commanded his team to stop. The soldiers stepped back, the guardian did too, assuming they were leaving. Pure Vanilla came forward with all the respect he could give for this ancient being. “If you do not want us inside, we will go, but please allow me to help you.” He says and the monstrous form they were taking becomes small, they were now a cookie still wound in thorns. “I do not need help,” you say. “Leave.”

🍦 - “Your fighting begs to differ, tell me, does defending a building full of paper merit suffering for a thousand more years?” Pure Vanilla steps forward again, still calm. “I have defended this place for many years, when my master returns he will fix this.” You respond. “Do you know when that is?” He asks, your silence is loud. You speak again, “the vines were once.. not thorn ridden, but what was once a proud colorful display of loyalty is now my chains.” You explain, he nods. “If this place is so special, i can help you keep it safe, but these vines will grow, and soon you will be unable to defend your home.” He steps forward again but you do not react so he continues. “Even if if means you are not bound to this building, please, let me remove your chains.”

🍦 - Unable to say no, you nod and offer your arms to him. With his own magic, he runs his hands over them and they slowly unravel as light passes within. For a moment you’re completely glowing, and then you are free. Weight has been lifted off your shoulders though it does not appear like that on the outside. While Pure Vanilla tends to the deep cuts in your flesh and tells you about the Vanilla kingdom and who he was, the others scout inside. When they return they speak, “the scrolls are.. all blank.” Then what have you been defending?! You desperately explain this place used to be lively with scholars and even after your master stopped coming here this place was full of cookies. Pure Vanilla investigates and tells you that they were replaced a long time ago, you were defending blank scrolls and dilapidated walls. Without purpose and little dignity, you decide to part with the building and try life in the Vanilla kingdom.

🍦 - Most would call the expedition a failure, but Pure Vanilla saw it as an astounding success. While they gained no knowledge or material they saved you from much more unnecessary pain and toiling. You didn’t know how cookies worked to be frank, any time you tried to talk to someone you came off odd. You had made a habit of clinging to Pure Vanilla, he taught you the new languages and etiquettes, all the new kingdoms that arose. It was almost embarrassing that a mighty guardian was hiding behind such a gentle cookie.

🍦 - Your fondness for nature connects you two, throughout your years waiting, nature was your friend. You watched the world around you become infested and weeded but in a way you couldn’t help but admire. He often allows you to accompany him while gardening which is where most of your bonding happens. It takes a while for you to choose a form that matches this new modern style, he’s extremely patient with each change. He has nothing but love and admiration for you, you wanted to change and he wanted you to be comfortable.

🍦 - At some point close friendship delves into something romantic. Kneeling in dirt surrounded by flowers during sunset, you cant tell if he was noticing the changes you made to yourself or the way you were looking at him. His free hand off his staff comes to your arm like he wanted you to be closer while he told you how amazing you were. His words cloud your mind, you’re lost in the features of his face slowly approaching. Soon, you’re kissing tenderly, trying to hold onto this form and keep it from spontaneously changing from the emotions. When he leans away he thinks it’s cute, your entire body now mismatched except your face.

White Lily

🪻 - It was a particularly calm day out, birds were singing their unique songs and flowers blooming out and about. White Lily would have to depart today though, she needed to go to beast yeast to find answers on why cookies were made and there she would find it. She had let her friends know, it was hard to leave but she knew it was the right choice. Her thirst to know and enlighten had been discouraged by her teachers and friends. She did not leave without a gift, with a gentle tap of her staff the ground around her began to glow and become full of lilies winding around trees and sprouting deep within the woods. They curled around her feet like a goodbye hug. She broke free and began to walk, slowly the field of flowers became more scarce.

🪻 - It had not been more than a few minutes when she heard movement within the trees along the path. She turned her head to see another cookie on a parallel path who quickly noticed her. She expected them to wave or something but to her surprise they suddenly turned into a bird and flew over to her, flying over her head. “Well hi there! Are you the one who made that big pretty field back there?”

🪻 - She smiles and nods, they drop back down now a cookie again. “Why’d you do it? I mean.. no one anyone randomly creates a bunch of flowers,” they say walking backwards to face her. “It’s a goodbye gift for my friends, i have to leave for beast yeast and i wanted to give something to be remembered by.” She says quietly, the other cookie seems to perk up. “Im from beast yeast! Im heading there right now, what are the odds!” They exclaim and she seems more interested now. “Really?” She says and you nod quickly. “This is actually the third time ive tried to go back, i.. keep getting lost before i even get to the border,” you admit slightly embarrassed. She laughs softly, “it seems you should probably stay with me.” She suggests and you quickly replied “it seems you’re right, My name is (Y/N) cookie by the way,” you say now walking beside her. “White Lily cookie,” she returns the introduction.

🪻 - The trek to beast yeast would take a month on foot, thankfully you both had each other’s company. She talked about her friends and their kingdoms, her burning desire to know why cookies were made and asked a lot of questions about beast yeast. You answered those queries and talked about yourself. That or sharing tales beside a campfire of strange tales of powerful cookies gone bad and a kingdom of silver and faeries. You turned into various exotic animals from around the world or kept watch while she rested. It seemed when you spend every day and night with someone you get close quickly.

🪻 - One cold night she sits beside a fire unable to sleep when she hears odd snoring coming from your tent. Hesitantly, and with a little inner fighting, she peers in to see a fluffy cream lynx lying inside and nearly jumps out of her dough at the sight. You, in the form of a cold weather creature to stay warm jumps awake thinking there was danger. You halfhazardly turn back to a cookie to reassure her you were just cold. Then the thought occurs, was she cold too? She says she hasn’t been able to sleep and has been staying by the fire, you offer to let her sleep in your tent. She agrees, needing the rest. For the rest of the trip, even though it got warmer she spent every night in your embrace.

🪻 - Then you cross the border into beast yeast, it becomes harder to protect eachother. In a moment of peace one day, she says that they should head towards the faerie kingdom. You seem like you dislike the idea but go anyway. It takes a few days to find the kingdom. When she finally comes to the entrance, suddenly you’re gone. It doesn’t matter though, the faeries needed her help so she’d have to find you later. When she sealed up the tree and was celebrated by the Faeries, she began to try and find you. Elder Faerie, confused why she wasn’t at the feast in her honor, approaches her. She explains who you are and their journey. Elder faerie recognizes you and explains your story to her. Long ago, you were once a faerie, a beast of silence, once of solidarity, saw you and despised how you were constantly surrounded by friends and helping your people without reward. So the beast approached you alone, offered to take you in, you declined with disgust. The beast, angered by the response, placed a curse on you. Never would you rejoin your kingdom and never would you be in your body again. Forever, a silent outcast.

🪻 - When he is done, he says you will likely be found somewhere close outside of the kingdom. If she cannot find you, he’ll send scouts. She leaves immediately, its hard to find a shape shifter but she knows she’ll find you. She spends all afternoon but soon she spots you beside a still pond. She says nothing, sits down and holds your hand. You tell her, “you have celebrations in your name, you should go to them. You wont find any enlightenment with me, only loneliness.” You seemed to know that he told her. She doesn’t go though, “maybe theres a way to reverse this,” she tells you. “It’s too powerful, no cookie can fix this,” you sigh. “Maybe.. a witch?” She responds with a small smile, you look at her like she was insane.

🪻 - “I am going to the witches.. and i want you to come with me. There i will find answers and maybe you will become un-cursed.” She says hopefully, a little surprised you aren’t sure what to say. Moonlight shining down on the both of you by a mirror like pond, it all felt perfect. “What if they can’t reverse this?..” you say trying to pull away but she keeps you there. “Then we can be alone together, no matter what happens there i’ll stay with you,” she smiles quietly, pink tinting her cheeks. It feels impossible to say no, so you don’t. You smile back and speak “ok, i’ll go with you.” You clasp a hand over hers. You weren’t sure when you got so close but it’s awfully convenient. Your intentions are pretty clear, hers are too. Both of you now flustered, nervous and unsure what to do, you stare at each other before she leans in and kisses you. Even after it ended you were fairly certain your heart didn’t stop pounding all night long.

[ma1dita]

asking for trouble

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader words:  7.8k prev -> when the curtains close | next -> as above so below summary: (post-TLT, compliant to TLO) The one where Luke's final wish is to see you. (He's himself again, and all he wants is to find out if the trouble was worth it all) a/n: non-descriptive mentions of blood and war, main character death. angst. a boyfriend that yall may or may not agree with. one chapter left after this!! i imagined the last scene to play out with luke in a room where they have the immersive exhibits at a museum

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[august 15th; camp half-blood kitchens, long island, new york — 9:49 pm]

Everything begins and ends with love if we are fortunate enough.

There’s a stillness that fills the air the night before what historians and future demigods alike will deem the Battle of Manhattan. It’s stifling—suffocating in the silence of the camp kitchens as you cover a sheet cake with blue frosting, piping the edges with a steady hand as you check the clock, time always ticking over your shoulder.

Almost lights out.

The circumstances are different now though, and surely no one will be able to sleep soundly tonight. Fate is hard at work unraveling the future, the gods and their spawn alike are preparing for war, yet you’re here putting sprinkles on Percy Jackson’s birthday cake.

It’s the most nonsensical thing you’ve done all week amidst the war preparations, taming the whirlwind of mixed emotions that shook camp in the days before. Perhaps it comes with the knowing that everything will change, and the only way out is through. Only the lucky ones get to go home after this.

“Are you really not coming with us tomorrow?”

Clarisse chuckles at your question from her position against the doorway, crossing her arms and watching you stick candles on the top of the sweet dessert. Her hands flex over her sleeves, tugging at the fabric like she needs to hide away from the rest of the world, “You make it sound like it’s a walk in the park instead of what it really is.”

“Is that why then?” You look up from your piping bag raising an eyebrow at her, “We need all the help we can get, Risse.”

“It’s a death wish. I don’t know how you do it grandma, but the world will keep spinning no matter if 5 shows up or not,” Clarisse mutters, rolling the words around in her mouth, “How do you do it? Knowing that he’ll be there…I-I don’t want Chris to put himself through that again. We’re going to lose anyway—something, if not everything.” 

You know that too.

There’s something ironic about how the children of war won’t be joining the fight of their lives, but Clarisse La Rue is as stubborn as a mule when she doesn’t get her way. Only something truly special would send her running to the battlefield at this point.

“A part of me feels obligated to be there and help fix it, Risse. This is the path I chose.”

She scoffs, her sneakers knocking against the side of the kitchen island. The daughter of Ares is wistful, hesitant… and nothing like herself tonight. You suppose conflict shapes someone like her like how insanity lines the essence of your being. Intangible, but the base of every choice—the driving reason connecting you to your godrents. 

“Yeah, I know that, but I still don’t get it. You don’t have to be here anymore,” she says thoughtfully, moving the cylinders of sprinkles around on the counter by height order, then by colors of the rainbow, “you could’ve chosen the easy life without all of this…I mean, if I ever got out of here alive, I wouldn’t look back.” The statement is sharp in the silence as if she’d attacked you with Maimer. Your eyes meet hers as if there’s a big secret she’s missing out on. You always look at them like that now, with a faraway gaze of a place none of them can reach.

“Who’s to say? Getting old and aging out of here is harder than you think, you know… College, rent, taxes…” you list off with every squeeze of the piping bag, spelling out Percy’s name with white frosting. Clarisse bites her lip, resting her chin against the palm of her hand as she watches you.

When she closes her eyes at night, she often dreams of being home in Arizona, dry heat prickling at her cheeks and dust swirling at her ankles. That’s what her future will look like, she thinks—and she’ll let herself be selfish if it means she gets what she wants. What do you dream of? Do you think about a future for yourself if you’re so worried about saving everyone else’s?

“But you still came back. Is this easier than that?”

Not easier, but familiar. Nothing you ever want comes easy after all. There is a comfort in walking the grounds of a camp counselor job you used to dread instead of filling out job applications; easier to you means fighting with the gods and slaying creatures of old instead of paying student loans and making rent. 

“I think you’ll find out that you do stupid things for love, Clarisse La Rue.”

She’ll never tell you this, but you’re the strongest person she knows. You’ve shown her that strength doesn’t always mean brain or brawn. Sometimes strength is loving someone without expecting anything in return, and the gnawing feeling in her stomach eats at her in an unsatisfying way—like Tantalus reaching for the grapevine, fingertips grazing the leaves for eternity.

Instead, Clarisse wipes down the counter with a Clorox wipe as you make your way towards the door, cake in hand. Tonight, she and her siblings will sleep with the knowledge that they’ll get to see another day. Call her selfish, sure—but that’s how she loves them. Alive.

“I still stand ten toes behind the fact that Michael Yew can be knocked down a fucking peg,” she mutters. There’s a small smile on her face and when she looks up at you, she sees your face is illuminated by moonlight. Clarisse hopes this won’t be the last time—silently praying to her father to extend his hand onto you.

“I’ll see you when I see you, La Rue.”

Whenever that is, she thinks. This is easier than a goodbye. What matters is showing up. What matters is that they try. That’s what she reminds herself as she turns off the big light and heads toward Cabin 5. 

Does any of that still matter in the end if they aren’t alive?

Her siblings are already asleep when she tucks herself into bed despite the music and laughter coming from 12. Light from across the way filters through her window, a warm glow cast across her face leaking through even when she shuts her eyes. It warms her, reminds her of the orange of the stupid shirts they wear, sunsets on Fireworks Beach, and the molten lava that drips down the climbing wall. 

Home might not be what she remembered it to be after all these years. Clarisse decides to sleep on it, hoping that when they wake, there’ll be something worth fighting for.

[august 15th; cabin 12, long island, new york — 10:08pm]

Camp Half-Blood is quiet as you walk through the dark forest, minding your step over the brambles and checking off your mental list of responsibilities before day breaks. The air is especially cool for a summer night, melancholy being your only jacket as you move on auto-pilot. Your fingers tighten around the tray you hold, pushing the door open to Cabin 12 which currently houses most of your campers. It’s lively and bright in here—you would think they’re all celebrating a Capture the Flag win instead of being sent off to their deaths for the greater good.

Tomorrow, they’ll wake up soldiers.

The wood creaks beneath your boots and it’s drowned out by the sound of soft chattering and laughter, a few of them still scuffling over sleep spots, and then—”HAPPY BIRTHDAY PERCY!”

There are only enough people in here to comfortably fit in a few of the strawberry trucks tomorrow—some went home to their parents to avoid the chaos and some chose not to fight at all. And the ones that remain— all 40 of them, that is, are spread out on the floor in sleeping bags writhing like worms. All the whooping and cheering is accompanied by Michael leading his siblings in song (and Connor and Travis ruining it by chanting CHA CHA CHA!). 

Percy is just shy of sixteen now, but the sheen in his blue eyes still reflects the tranquility of open water and something tender that you saw in him when he came to camp at twelve years old. Later, through mouthfuls of cake and smears of blue buttercream on his cheek, the son of Poseidon looks up at you thoughtfully, “Is this a pity cake?” He tries to make light of the situation by acting like the fate of the world doesn’t depend on his life or death, and you take a deep breath. 

Even demigods fall victim to fate, and the gods still push on. But what of their children that fight for change in the world they set the rules for; their children that fight their battles for them and lose their lives for immortal beings that live forever?

“This is a birthday party, not a pity party, Percy Jackson. There's no pity for the damned,” you chuckle. Damned if we do, damned if we don’t. All of the world’s problems seem so permanent when you’re 15 years old. It’s just fucked up that his will actually alter the course of humanity.

“And if this is the end of the world, I just wanted to make sure we’ve told you happy birthday first.”

“Well thanks,” Percy mumbles over a spoonful of buttercream, face reddening when Annie throws a paper towel roll at his face, “Hey!” It reminds you a lot of when you and Luke would fight in the dining pavilion, chicken tenders and mac n’ cheese flying through the air, and apples cut just the way you like.

You blink. 

It all boils down to him or Luke.

“Wipe your face, Seaweed Brain!”

Percy rolls his eyes, smiling down at his plate regardless of the weight he carries upon his shoulders. The more you want to live the more you have to lose, you think as you brush your knuckles against a spot of frosting he missed. You don’t look at the blonde boy and see a hero of the Great Prophecy—still, you see him as the little boy who was mesmerized by you conjuring strawberries on his plate on his first day at camp, innocent and honest. 

Looking around the room wistfully at that thought, you start to see the memories of their childhood blanket all of themlike ill-fitting clothes; it’s all you can notice. The feeling is so big it swallows you whole. Annabeth is still the little girl who’d rattle off obscure facts from Snapple bottle caps from her time on the road, drawing pictures of buildings with your eyeliner after sneaking into your room. Silena still makes blush out of berry juice and would call you about boy problems as if she’s not a child of the goddess of love herself. Will is still the boy who sings as he lights up fireflies and draws smiley faces on bandages. Katie, the girl who makes flower crowns for your birthday and eats strawberries with you soaked in morning dew. You look around and see scraped knees that you’ve kissed better, sleepy eyes you’ve sung to, and hearts you’ve kept warm—this is your glory, your greatest achievement being the family you’ve found in the woods of the Long Island Sound.

“You see it too?” Grover mumbles, nudging you and you sigh, squeezing his shoulder. Sometimes you forget the satyr is older than you; he stands tall as your pillar of support, unwavering in his promise to protect these kids. 

“We’re getting old, man.”

“You’re only 23. There’s so much left of you,” he deadpans. Laughter comes out of you in waves as you shake your head smiling.

“And what a pleasure it’s been to grow up with you.” 

Grover bids you a good night as you walk up the stairs to your old room, phone in hand while you dial a familiar number. Your boyfriend answers before the end of the first ring.

“Hey, I didn’t think you’d still be up!”

Settling against the windowpane near your bed, a soft smile graces your features and you realize he’s not there to see it. It’s always been easy with him—Dex was unbelievably kind, and he had a heart that he’d share without you having to ask. He was unlike any man you’d ever encountered before, and over the past year and a half you found it easy to love him. 

Worst of all, he’s utterly devoted to you. At least every part of you that you were willing to give him, even if it wasn’t all of you per se. Plus, you saw the ring in his desk drawer last week.

It was too…good to be true.

You recognize that this was your way out like Clarisse said, your escape from the turbulence that was your life as a demigod. But it was hard to believe that you were deserving of it. He’d never know of the ichor that runs through your veins, and the life you’d have to leave behind to truly be with him. You suppose every love you’ve ever had was sacrificial. You just wonder if because of that, easy makes it hard to feel real.

Maybe if you survive this one you’d tell him the truth. But for now, he’s rambling in your ear about his sudden work trip upstate. Morpheus and Hypnos are already at work then, redirecting the city dwellers out of Manhattan. It must be later than you thought already and in a few short hours, Apollo will be shining his rays across the Island for what you hope won’t be the last time.

“I wish I was with you right now,” you mutter in a hushed tone, and you hear him laugh breathily through the static sound of the phone. It’s easy to imagine him twirling the telephone cord between his fingers, flopped over the tiny loveseat you went halfsies on with your first big paychecks. The apartment you both moved into after graduation is more accurately a shoebox—but it’s yours, and the love you have for it is immeasurable in comparison to the square footage. You hum, listening to the sound of his voice, “Maybe I can catch you before I go—stop by and say hi before I drive up.” 

He won’t. By morning, you’re not even sure if he’ll remember you—all traces of Greek gods and their counterparts wiped clean from memory until it’s all over, whenever that is. You’re mindlessly walking in circles around your room, bare feet padding against the floorboards. He repeats your name and you realize you haven’t been paying attention, the tail end catching your ear, “Hmm?”

“Or you could come to me. I’m sure your dad won’t mind. It’s time I meet him, don’t you think?” 

And out of anything happening tomorrow, that especially sounds like a nightmare so you make a noise of disagreement, “I can’t. You know I can’t, honey. I’ve got…” your voice trails off as your lilac eyes land on a faded photo strip thumbtacked to your wall, “unfinished business to deal with.” There’s nothing left but inky silhouettes on the sun-damaged paper, two past lovers huddled together. But you know what it’s a picture of. Rye Playland, you and Luke at fifteen, cheek to cheek and covered in wisps of cotton candy.

“Mm. Sounds important. Does your unfinished business have a name?” 

Dex sounds playful now, teasing despite the silence on your end of the line. A beat passes, and then another, and he can hear the sound of your hands rifling through the things in your desk drawer. The dragon scale necklace is cold in your palm. 

For good luck, you think. 

It’s been a while since you’ve worn it—keeping it safe in the only home you and Luke shared, and as soon as it touches your neck, you feel a little less empty inside. It feels like a safety blanket, protecting you from whatever might come next. You almost feel guilty to be relieved.

Thumbing the cord absentmindedly, you mutter, “You don’t even know the half of it, Dex.” 

“Maybe one day you’ll tell me.” Sometimes, it’s like he knows— Dex must be the ivy that grows over the walls you’ve built up around yourself, and he can see glimpses of who you try to hide behind your stone-cold resolve. He wonders if you’ll ever tell him about the names you call out at night— an indistinguishable language he’ll never fully understand. He wonders where you’ve gotten your constellation of scars and where your mind goes when you sit next to the window and stare at the skyline.

Oh, he wonders.

The glow-in-the-dark stars are faded now on the ceiling when you look up at them, fighting to give their last bits of light. You wonder too, if there’s any fight left in you; a bit of Luke always remains—he’s everywhere you look. You can feel him as night falls upon New York, bidding you goodnight before it crumbles tomorrow. 

“Maybe. Good night, honey.”

Dex yawns into the receiver. You know his feet are kicked up onto the coffee table even though you always tell him he shouldn’t, and that his glasses are already off for the night. You really think he could be a nice guy to end up with, all things considered. Dex was the epitome of normal, and after almost two and a half decades of existence, it’s quite evident that you are anything but. 

Normal might be quite nice.

He yawns again. Hypnos must have reached his window, “I love you, you know that?”

“I do. Me too. Good night.”

It’s the truth. 

You love this man and the spaces he’s filled within the chaos of your life. You love all of him, from the perfectly normal way he makes breakfast for you every morning (and laughs when he burns the toast), and takes the train to work at a middle school in Harlem (“6th grade ELA takes a lot out of a man,” he jokes). He picks you up from your job at the therapist’s office downtown if you get out too late, as a gentleman would (though you’ve fought monsters that he’d scream at the sight of). Once upon a time, normal was exactly what you used to wish for.

There’s a moment where your breath hitches and you sink against your pillow and you wonder if he would love all of you—demigod and all. Could he get used to this— summers at Camp Half-Blood with chariot races and gladiator-style fighting, pegasi and harpies roaming the grounds, and watersports with woodland nymphs? Dex never even questions your green thumb or how Pollux made him hallucinate your dead brother when he came to visit (“It’s what Castor would’ve wanted! The full twin-terrogation!” he insists. You convinced your boyfriend he got food poisoning that night). Could you come clean about knowing how to slay a chimera, or why you never get drunk, and have the stamina of an Olympian (the athletic kind, but not too far off from the truth)? 

But it shouldn’t be called coming clean. That makes it sound like you’re ashamed of who you are—which you’re not. You’ve just been hiding this part of you from a normal human that you love very much.

Gods, is this how your dad felt when he was seeing your mom? 

Somehow insanity has always felt bearable—love, however, has always been such an ordeal.

The phone bounces onto your bedspread once you hang up the call. There is no more time to worry about playing a part. Tomorrow, everyone comes as they are—whatever happens after will be a problem if you reach another day. Fate has its way of making itself known, you know that by now. Blinking, you take a deep breath, and very intentionally, with your feet criss-cross applesauce, you pray—for what, you still try to figure out as the minutes tick by. 

Better late than never.

Here at camp, you were always the last one up after lights out, anyway. Tonight of all nights shouldn't be any different.

[august 16th; 34th street and herald square, manhattan, new york — 9:17 am]

“Where do you think you’re going, mister!”

Your little brother flinches, immediately turning tail and walking across the deserted street to meet you in the middle. He’s taller than you now, craning his neck down to look at your angry glower as you thrust a finger into his face, “You’re sticking with me.”

“Jake said he’s taking 9 and 12 to the Holland Tunnel,” Pollux calls out, shuffling his feet and you punch his arm hard, “OW! —It’s what Percy wants.” He swats your hand away for good measure, his arm guards clanking against yours when he dodges another swing at his head.

“We are Cabin 12, you shithead. I’m not letting you out of my sight for a second.” Your staff is heavy against his shoulder and Pollux can’t help but let his gaze wander to where Jake Mason and the other children of Hephaestus are waiting for him a block over. Manhattan is a warzone, and the difference between fighting empousai and fighting his older sister right now is very similar in theory—hard to do alone. The tunnel is halfway across the city from the Empire State Building—if something were to happen to either of you…

"M’not here to fight,” he sighs, “with you at least. I need to do my part, sissy.” The old nickname is an arrow through your heart and you grab Pollux’s hand, “I just want to make sure you’ll be okay. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I couldn’t get to you in time.”

“HEY 12! You coming, or what?”

The two of you look towards the small army down the block, both of your hands intertwined like grapes from the same vine. You’re not sure if you can let go; you’re not sure if your father could lose another child. But Pollux’s face is almost set in stone—he’s never been more sure of himself. Your lip wavers, forcing itself into a stiff smile and he softens at the sight, “I’ll be okay.”

“And if you’re not? Then what?”

He shrugs, “Then… then I’ll get to see Castor.”

You nod, breathing shakily, and flinching when Jake calls for Pollux again, “Well. If you are okay…You come find me. After this is over, you come straight back home to me. You got it?”

Pollux hugs you, hard—the force of all of him sending you sprawling into his arms and it knocks the wind out of you. As the twins have grown, it’s been rare for them to show you any affection. They’d usually recoil or whine about how mushy their older sister is, and each time it makes you laugh. But right now, you stand there gripping onto his t-shirt, breathless; the ringing in your ears gives way to words he mumbles into your hair, “I love you,” he says, in case you didn’t already know. 

Just in case this is goodbye. You take it in for a moment longer, running a hand through his blond hair and cupping his cheeks as you finally step away, “I love you. I’m so proud of you, P. We all are.”

“Haven’t done anything yet,” he grins, backing away slowly, a skip in his step as he nears the small troop of Hephaestus kids. You wave them off, blowing a kiss as they band together and turn in the other direction.

Why is it that you can only be proud of someone if there’s something to prove it?

You think about all 40 of your campers fighting for their lives in the greatest city in the world. The sound of hellfire, roaring monsters, and screams that could only come from your kids. Fatigue wears you down with each swipe of magic towards enemy forces, monsters writhing in pain at your feet, demigods reduced to insanity and blood-curdling screams. It disgusts you even more so that no one can witness the weapon you've been forced to become.

After all, no one knows any of you were there. Life continues on outside of the bubble containing the Battle of Manhattan. And only the ones fighting will be able to remember this. Only you will remember the blood you spilled to wrestle for your destiny.

The rest of the city continues to sleep, safe from the people who swore to protect it.

[august 17th; empire state building, manhattan, new york mount olympus, in the sky above new york??? — 11:22 pm]

Running up 492 flights of stairs was another type of hell you didn’t expect to put yourself through, but it was faster than waiting for the elevator to Olympus. It’s quiet besides the steady rush of blood pumping in your ears, your boots slapping against the tile to reach your friends who might be in danger at the hands of someone you know well. But it’s too late to give up when you’re so close—you realize you’re praying to anyone who’ll listen as you push through the pain of always being a little too late. 

“Ugh!”

Air pierces through your lungs painfully as you trip up a landing, hands clawing against the banister. Have you been running in place this whole time, quick to start but hard to follow? Your lip quivers, eyes trailing up the stairwell faster than your legs can take you. 

Whatever the outcome, you’ll be better for it, you hope.

It’d be easier to give up. To stay away and not watch Percy fight for his life against him. You dry heave as you press your head against the wall, wondering if it’s worth not seeing what will become of this wretched prophecy. It’s hard to survive loving the villain when the rest of the world is dying because of it. Your legs feel like jelly underneath you, and not a single soul in Manhattan knows you’re here—until you feel the strength of an old traveler lift you up and revitalize your soul. Looking down to see your boots retie themselves tightly, the feeling in your chest reminds you of him. Everything leads back to Luke, and you think wherever he is now—Hermes knows that too. 

“Thank you,” you mutter. He’s handpicked your prayer through the tempest that hangs over Manhattan so that maybe your hands will be gentler in smiting his lost son. You find yourself with the nerve to run up the last dozen flights of stairs, pushing past the entryway to see Thalia Grace under a statue of her stepmother, “THALIA!” You barely make it to her fallen form before her free arm tries to push you away from the rubble.

“Get out of here! I mean it—” Thalia spits out your name through gnarled teeth and bones crunching under the heavy hands of Hera. The statue lays over the bottom half of her body, holding her legs down like how one forms a fist, and the daughter of Zeus pushes through pain and millennia worth of her dad’s karmic debt in giving her life—the essence of being a forbidden child still has a hold on her, even now. 

“I’m not gonna…leave you…”

With everything in you, both demigod strength and sheer desperation, you push at the unmoving stone and your fingernails begin to splinter from the pressure. 

But you know what it feels like to get left behind. 

Desolation slowly sets in your bones, a hollow feeling that spreads through your core as sweat rolls down your cheeks, and when you sniff to wipe it away, Thalia’s lip quivers. She’s writhing in pain and everything is coming to an end down the hall from where you stand. 

“We’re so close, Grace. I’m not giving up on you when we’re this close. I need you in there with me so you just hold on, okay?”

The marble is cool to the touch under your moist hands, and her face is fixed in a grimace as she looks up at you and sees you for who you are—another demigod who was never given a fair chance at fate but with a spirit of a hero waiting for the right chance. Thalia coughs before slapping your hand away, “LISTEN TO ME! I’ll be okay. He needs you to be there. We’re almost out of time!” 

You barely register your body moving as you get up and start to run, looking back at Thalia by the time you’re at the top of the landing. There are no words that you could imagine to string together when your eyes meet hers in the distance that separates you two—the feeling of grief bearing down as you both know the end is near and inside those doors.

As you turn back around, you take a moment to wonder if you might’ve had different people in mind for who’s up there waiting for you.

[august 17th; the hall of gods, mount olympus, the sky above new york— 11:48 pm]

Finally pushing through the heavy doors of the Hall of Gods, your eyes burn like salt in a wound as you travel toward the center to see three figures laid out on the marble mezzanine. There’s a cramp in your calf by the time you reach them, your legs giving way as you skid to a stop in front of Luke’s corroded body. The pain doesn’t register for you, split skin going numb as you stare into the eyes of a storm you fell in love with almost ten years ago. 

A stranger is no longer wearing your love’s skin. Percy and Annie’s eyes feel heavy against your back as they watch you sigh in relief, a landslide of emotion rolling off of you when you see he’s still breathing, even faintly, as if he waited for you to make it back to him.

“It’s Luke,” Annabeth chokes out, “the scythe transformed into Backbiter and I knew it was him. He was fighting for us.” Her voice makes you flinch, makes this more real—it echoes as the wind carries it through the hall. Without a doubt in your mind, you know it’s him by the way he looks at you with tired eyes, soft and amber—the light pushing away the shadows and he reaches out for you. His skin is paled by the River Styx, face weathered by the Titan as you gently guide his head onto your lap. A pathetic cry slips from your mouth when you realize there’s more pressure in the fingers he brushes against your cheekbone versus the one holding the blade embedded in his chest. 

Fuck, what do you even say? 

He’s dying right in front of you and you can’t think of a single word to say.

The clock is ticking and every breath of his comes out weaker––he speaks before you can find the words, breathing out, “I missed you,” like it was a relief to say it. And it all comes spilling out like a secret you’ve been safeguarding since the day he left— a mix of your tears and his blood smearing across your cheek as he reaches out to wipe them ever so gently. You find yourself smiling in the face of death itself—smile even if the both of you can feel death’s hand on him saying that time is finally up because the act of meeting each other here in the middle makes the years you’ve gone without him worthwhile. 

The reunion is also the loss; a nasty habit you’ve both fallen into over the years. But this time, Luke’s finally able to give you the world he wanted to see just before he leaves it.

You clutch him close without intending to let go, purple eyes scavenging for confirmation that this is your Luke, the one who pushed you through the brambles of the North Woods, wind in his hair and mischief in his smile. He’s citrus and musk, cunning smiles, something sacred kept within cabin 11, calloused fingers pulling at your t-shirt, and the voice out of tune at nightly sing-a-longs—and he loves you still. 

Loving you was the only thing that never changed.

“Shhhh, don’t waste your energy. The gods will…” you swallow a sob despite yourself, “I…my dad’s going to be here soon. He’ll help us.” There’s a lump in your throat that carries the weight of everything unsaid. Who would help you now that everyone else is getting what they wanted—a brighter tomorrow without the villain? But the prophecy unveils itself so cruelly, and the one who hurt you is the hero in this story, just as he’s always dreamed. It so happens to be at the cost of loving you.

Luke’s eyelids flutter like butterfly wings descending softly. You press a kiss onto his forehead like you used to while waiting for him to fall asleep. The chuckle that rumbles his ribcage is faint against the hand of yours that’s holding him together and the war is finally over and no one even knows that besides the four of you in this room.

“I'm running on borrowed time,” Luke wheezes, “I think my life ended the day I left you.” His thumb weakly traces the tear tracks cascading down your face, and he’s reacquainting himself with every feature of yours while he can touch it—to hold and be held by you after so long feels like drinking up ambrosia, his last bits of strength telling you what you’ve always known. 

Is there a word stronger than love?

One that would explain how close and how far you feel to him at this moment and you don’t want to say the wrong thing but there are no wrong words when it comes to the right person. Hoarsely, through wavering lips, you chuckle, “Then it's time to stop running, baby. I’m here now.”

It’s exhausting to carry the weight of tomorrow in your arms and to know it’ll be made possible only by letting him go. You’re holding him too tightly, claws sinking in to feel—to ground yourself and keep him tethered to this reality, just in case a different answer falls out of the sky. 

But falling with Luke Castellan, falling for him, has been nothing like you wanted. You've said your goodbyes more often than you can count. 

This part is just about letting him go.

“I think I’m doomed,” he laughs, coughing harshly. Blood soaks his airways, retribution for the lives he took. It drips out of his mouth and you still look at Luke like he’s asked you to marry him. What a soft, funny thought. 

Love must be more violent than war, to feel like this—to know he’s wrecked your world and still come out the other side smiling at him like he put the stars in the sky. His fingers are slipping out of yours as you hold onto the knife that keeps him here and Luke mutters, “I’m so s-sorry. You deserved better in this life.” You hear Annabeth sob from somewhere behind you but you can’t look at anything else but his eyes, not daring to miss another moment of him.

“Can’t be all that bad,” you say with a watery chuckle, wiping his mouth with your thumb. There’s more of a mess now with your feeble efforts but the action comforts you more than him; caring for Luke is something you cannot unlearn. 

“This life gave me you. I don’t want to know anything else. Do you hear me?” 

You want Luke to know this—to understand that even if this is how fate has handled the both of you, there is no other hand you would hold but his.

“You’re my whole life, Trouble.”

“I know, angel. I know. It’s always been me and you.”

You and me, he mouths, an echo of himself left to relay the message as his eyes lose their warmth, empty now and unseeing. And then he's home in your arms again as you hold every broken and bloodied piece of him together until he's no more. The parts of him he leaves behind blur into you, rivulets of his lifeforce weaving through your fingertips even when you put pressure against the knife you both hold, hands cradling the spot under his armpit, and to Percy and Annabeth it looks like you're holding his heart, clutching it between your fingers.

Protecting it until his last beat—when he finally gives it over to you. 

It was always yours, anyway. 

Before, in the in-between, and now after, his heart is yours.

Time stops for Luke Castellan, the man born to die, in the Hall of Gods that day— in the arms of his partner and in the presence of his little sister and truest friend. 

Lips against his ear, no one tries to pull you away, even when the gods of Olympus march in expecting a battle to only find a dead hero and a story that needs to be told.

You’ve never seen him so still before. 

Luke’s always been the one with something to say, hands fidgeting to hold yours. Still, you hold his hand even if he can't feel it, still smile even if he can't see you, still whisper words of devotion even if he can't hear it. By the time you feel your father’s hands on your back and hear Percy say, “We need a shroud. A shroud for the son of Hermes,” you imagine that he’s miles away from where he lays motionless, dead weight in your grasp. Nothing can pull you away from the mantra you set to remind him that he’s yours even when he leaves again. Luke’s soul will soon journey where you cannot follow, and you whisper to him in the stillness amidst the noise, “I love you, I love you, I love you…” 

When the Fates come to collect the body, their ancient hands spin around the two of you as they unweave your hold on him. You weren’t given a choice—his material body dissipates in front of your eyes and you swear you feel the tug from deep within your core as you watch them float Luke away. It’s so much different now from when he used to fly around your room with his stupid winged Converse—even the gods avert their eyes when you let out a sob that shakes the ornate hall. Hopelessly you watch, sat down on the marble and unable to move or follow—as if maybe he’d still answer to your sweet nothings, and not leave you hanging once more. You slump against your father’s side, catatonic and at a loss for words—they leave with him, floating away into the distance.

Humanity’s biggest problem and resolution has always been love—this was never a story about the lack thereof.

[august 18th; 12:00 am, death, pre-judgement? — the seven minutes after]

The path that Luke Castellan takes after he dies is most peculiar and unlike any path he’s traveled before. And yes, there have been several times that he’s come close to death—under Ladon’s claws in the Garden of Hesperides, and when he relinquished his physical self by bathing in the River Styx, but neither of those times where he’s cheated his way out can compare to the real thing. 

He once read in one of Annabeth’s textbooks that there are seven minutes of brain activity that wanes in your consciousness before you die. There’s a distinct thrumming in his ears when he comes to, and Luke discovers he’s completely in the dark with no sense of direction and most importantly, no visible way out. The old him, were he still alive—would be panicking by now, short terse breaths and sweat upon his brow. Old Luke would have fidgeting hands and eyes that rocket around for an exit. But this Luke, whoever he is—whatever he is now, finds himself eerily calm. Everything glows in a vignette, and familiar scenes materialize before his vision, a kaleidoscope of color and your shrieking laughter surrounding him in the familiarity of your happiness with him—it feels like lifetimes ago. He realizes he’s smiling. 

Versions of you swirl in the space he stands in, taking up space wherever he can look, wherever he turns—you’re there. 

And he remembers.  

Memory is a choice after all, much like love is. And no one can take that away from Luke Castellan except death itself.

The scene flickers for a moment, eyelashes fluttering against morning light peeking through the windows of Cabin 11.

It’s Luke’s first morning at Camp Half-Blood after the storm that brought him and Annabeth there. You’re standing over him with a half-beaten pillow and a menacing grin that grows as he spits out feathers. It’s his first impression of you, Kool-aid tipped hair and hands shaking with a crushed Redbull can in your other fist.

“Good. You’re still breathing. Wasn’t sure for a sec.”

A voice yells out your name and you make a run for it, barefoot and giggling and looking back at him every few steps—his breath catches in his throat again like how it did on the first day you both met.

The scenery changes and he’s sitting next to you on the dock of Canoe Lake.

“I dare you.”

“No way,” he hears himself say, and then he sees you fling algae at him in ropes, cold and slimy that it makes his voice crack, “He—ey! You’re gonna get us fired and it hasn’t even been a full day since we got the job,” he says, clearing his throat as you bite your lip.

“What’s one last hurrah?”

“You’re always gonna be Trouble, aren’t you?” he says, getting annoyed by the orange fabric that temporarily blinds him. Chuckling, you pull your shorts off and look back at him, eyes glinting in the moonlight and he can’t help but ogle at the rest of you, gulping hard. You catch him staring and he averts his eyes, looking back at the treeline to see if anyone’s come to find you both. A resounding splash echoes in the silence between you and Luke turns back to find your head bobbing visible above the water and not much else.

“I double-dog dare you, Castellan.”

He jumps in.

The dark blue of the water turns into light reflecting the pinks and purples of the sky above Montauk Point at sunset.

“We’re alive! Told you we’d be fine,” you yell, clicking your seatbelt off and jumping out of the car before Luke can even put the hatchback in park. It was his first drive anywhere—you’ve finally graduated from looping around Farm Road.

“Hey wait up!”

He calls out your name, but you’re already kicking up sand as the distance between you grows until he locks up the car and chases after you. You didn’t stand a chance, slipping and sliding in the sand as the son of Hermes quickly grabs you around the waist and throws you over his shoulder as you scream bloody murder. When he sets you down, your arms are looped around his neck and you’re smiling against the pink and tender scar on his cheek.

“Think we can break into the lighthouse before the guards come, angelface?”

The sound of crashing waves turns into chattering cabin counselors and when Luke looks around again, he’s at the Big House, with everyone else pushing their chairs in and walking towards the door. He holds his hand out and you grab it with no words or instruction—like a key nestled within its lock, exactly where it’s meant to be. 

“Last order of business, kind of…” Your dad drones from his spot near the windows. Luke tries to let go of your hand but you don’t let him, “Don’t panic,” you mutter.

“This… fraternization won't become an issue for all of us, will it?”

Everyone’s frozen near the doorway, staring at your intertwined hands. Luke clears his throat and turns toward Mr. D, “I’ll see to it that it doesn’t. Sir.”

You could almost hear a pin drop, and no one knows what to say next—not even Mr. D.

“Yeah, I’ll keep Castellan in line.”

That’s the confirmation everyone was waiting for; a mixture of groans and the clinking of drachma fill the air as Chris holds his hands out and takes his spoils of victory with a charming smirk on his face. Clarisse throws the coins at his head.

“I feel like I should take a bow or something,” Luke snickers into your ear, before placing a kiss against your temple.

You’re still in his arms and still look good in orange, but when he pulls back to look at you again, you’re both hovering above the ground near the dining pavilion. His knees are shaking when his winged Converse flap madly underneath you—a flurry of uncoordinated movement that makes you want to piss yourself.

“You’re lucky I have a strong core, babe,” he grins—and he’s thrilled at the fear on your face as you clutch onto him for dear life, one arm around his abdomen and the other around his neck, both legs latched around his waist.

“I swear to the fucking gods if you drop me, Castellan…”

His right foot jerks in a slightly different direction, making him laugh as you squeak.

“Castellan, huh? That scared, Trouble? Not gonna drop my baby.”

The wind around you whirls like a tornado as Luke tries to show off, getting higher and higher until, “LUKE!”

He catches you by the fingertips again and now there’s sand beneath your feet. You’re still spinning in his arms and his mom is singing along to a song playing on the radio you brought to Westport Beach. May claps lightly and you tug her up with a soft smile, “Come on Miss May! Take your son out for a spin.” Tugging at the damp white t-shirt you wear over your underwear, you take a seat on the picnic blanket and watch them with a smile you haven’t given Luke in years.

“Mother-son dance,” May whispers in his ear, humming a few notes of the wedding march.

He closes his eyes and soaks it all in, slightly swaying.

That thrumming is in his ears again, a steady beat against his chest and he feels it everywhere—a pounding rhythm that cannot be ignored. He opens his eyes and you’re snuggled against each other, tangled beneath the sheets. You’re still asleep and Luke just…watches you before the morning starts (whenever this is) and it all has to end. You’re breathing against his neck, lips slightly agape as warm air brushes his pulse. He moves hair out of your face and you pull him in unconsciously, skin to skin with no atom of space left between you. 

Luke blinks. 

You’re in your college apartment.

He blinks again.

His childhood bedroom.

Again, please.

In Cabin 12.

Please, just one last time.

You’re drooling against his neck in his tiny bunk in Cabin 11 and the noise is getting louder now—a static sound that morphs into the sound of your voice throbbing like a heartbeat, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

It’s the last thing he can hear before he has to go.

_ 

“I wanna see your eyes / Is it a crime to say I still need you?” - Adrienne Lenker

[bad268]

LOVE UR WORK!

I was wondering if you could write a fluff about the prema team makes a video of all the drivers doing dares and kimi’s dare is to kiss who ever walks in the room next and its the reader!

He gets all flustered and his ears turn red but he kisses u 😍

Ask Me Again (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Prema! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 1

Requested: Clearly (I had too much fun with this lol) (Also, happy New Year yall!)

Warnings: None

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1337

Summary: As part of Kimi and Ollie's final Prema media day, they may have pushed the boundaries a bit, but Kimi wins.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

“Shit, I’m so sorry I’m late! I woke up late, my sister’s goldfish died, and I couldn’t find my keys. Then, there was so much traffic, and I almost got rear-ended. It’s just been a hectic morning, and I’m so sorry. I know that’s no excuse, but I’m here now!” You said as soon as you walked into the studio where you were meant to assist in filming your first video with Prema. Of course, everything had to go wrong on the one day you needed to make a good impression on the team. 

You rushed around the room, dropping your bag to the side and going up to the nearest crew when you noticed that everyone was quiet. Everyone was looking at you, not saying a word. Heck, you weren’t even sure if they were breathing. All you know is that you were very confused.

~30 minutes earlier~

“Alright, here’s the plan, boys,” Angelina started as soon as Ollie and Kimi sat down for their final media shoot for Prema. “It’s truth or dare, but we let you guys include some of the dares. I hope you two stayed PG with it.”

“I may have pushed it a little, but I’m just gonna hope I don’t get one of the dares I put,” Ollie chuckled as he put his hands up.

“I hate you sometimes,” Kimi groaned as he leaned back on the couch before looking over at Angelina. “Is it too late to back out?”

“Technically, no because the new camera operator isn't here yet, but we’re getting started anyway. If they show up, they show up, but we’ve got a tight schedule to uphold,” She explained before going behind the cameras and gesturing to start recording. “You boys ready?”

“I guess?” Kimi replied, but it sounded more like a question while Ollie just nodded enthusiastically.

“Today, for your last Prema video, you two will be playing truth or dare. Whoever refuses to answer a question or do a dare first will be penalized. Ollie, you’ll choose first since you’re older.”

“Dang, that’s age-ist of you to say,” Ollie joked lightly as he inspected the two piles of cards. “Let’s start easy and go with truth.”

“Wimp,” Kimi scoffed as he grabbed the top card. “What did you love most about Prema?”

“Probably, the different challenges we did,” Ollie chuckled as he looked straight at the camera. “Your turn.”

“Truth, I guess,” Kimi shrugged.

“Who is your dream teammate? And I’m adding this: you can’t say me or George!” Ollie read off before throwing the card down.

“I think I’d have to say Lewis,” Kimi said pretty quickly.

“Everyone wants to be teammates with Lewis,” Ollie sighed, “Come on! Pick someone random!”

“Fine,” Kimi rolled his eyes, “I think It would be fun to be teammates with Kimi Raikkonen or Pierre Gasly.”

“Now, we’re getting somewhere,” Ollie clapped as they rapid-fired truths back and forth. They unspokenly decided it would be better to get all of the truths out of the way before getting into the dares. “Alright, Kimi, here’s your dare. You have to kiss the next person who comes in the room! I’m so glad I didn’t get that one.”

“You’re kidding me,” Kimi groaned as he hid his face in his hands, laughing. “Knowing my luck, I’ll have to kiss Rene!”

“That’s why I’m glad it’s not me,” Ollie teased. “We’ll have to wait for the next person, so hit me with the next one.”

“You have to post the oldest selfie on your Instagram story,” Kimi smirked, knowing exactly which selfie it was. Ollie had shown it to him once on a drunk night out, but it was highly embarrassing. Ollie immediately grew red as he remembered the picture as well. “Ah, not so funny now, is it?”

“What if we cancel the two out?” Ollie chuckled nervously. “We could both redraw and do those instead.”

“Depends on the other options,” Kimi said as he picked up the next card, “Your redraw is to have the team call your dad and say you got in a bad accident.”

“Absolutely not,” Ollie responded immediately with a sigh, “I can’t give him a heart attack like that.”

“So I guess you need to post a picture,” Kimi pressed. “You have to leave it up for the full 24 hours too.”

“No one reposts it, or I’m coming for you-” Ollie started lecturing before the sound of the door opening caught his attention. Then, his attention snapped to Kimi as an unfamiliar person came into view. Ollie started jabbing Kimi in his ribs as Kimi’s face grew red, knowing what was going to happen. Ollie then whispered, “I already posted it, so it's your turn.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry I’m late! I woke up late, my sister’s goldfish died, and I couldn’t find my keys. Then, there was so much traffic, and I almost got rear-ended. It’s just been a hectic morning, and I’m so sorry. I know that’s no excuse, but I’m here now!” You ranted as you tried to get acquainted with everything quickly when you suddenly froze, looking around at everyone staring at you. “Uh, what’s going on?”

“What’s your name?” Ollie spoke up first. Kimi was still partially hiding behind Ollie, red as ever, but he knew he would have to fulfill his dare before the team clocked him on it. 

Without waiting for your answer to Ollie, you were too distracted looking around at the team to have heard the question anyway, Kimi stood up and walked up to you. He stopped in front of you briefly before cupping your face and whispering, “Mi dispiace (I’m sorry),” and planting his lips on yours. 

It took you a second to realize what was happening, but by the time you did, he was already pulling away. He only pulled back enough to meet your eyes, his breath fanning across your lips. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, struggling to find the words for what you were thinking.

“I’m Kimi,” He whispered, answering one of your questions. “I’m one of the drivers, but this is our last media day before we both go to Formula 1. I was dared to kiss the next person who walked in, and that was you.”

“That’s…” You trailed off before hearing another voice.

“No offense, but how is that fair?” The person behind Kimi said. “I have to post an incredibly embarrassing selfie, and you get to kiss a hottie? That’s not fair.”

“Ollie, you wrote the dare, so shut up,” Kimi scoffed, “Plus, you wanted me to kiss Rene!”

“I didn’t want you to kiss Rene. I hoped you would kiss Rene,” The other guy - Ollie - clarified, “There’s a difference.”

“Okay, boys,” You interrupted, gently removing Kimi’s hands from your face and taking a step back. “Let me introduce myself. Hi, I’m Y/n, the new camera operator. Now, I’m sure we’re running on a timeframe,” you said as you looked over to Angelina, who interviewed you and nodded your way. “Let’s get back to work. The faster we get this done, the sooner you guys can be freed.”

“Before we get back to the dares,” Kimi brought up as he walked back in front of the cameras again and sat next to Ollie on the couch, “Can I maybe get your number after this?”

“Get some, Kimi!” Ollie cheered, pushing against Kimi’s arm and hyping him up.

You looked over at Angelina again, who was laughing and shaking her head in disbelief. You made eye contact with her. Then she leaned closer to you and whispered, “If you want to, you can, but after we finish filming. He’s still one of our drivers now, so it’s against company policy. Since this is the last thing for them, they won’t be under contact anymore.”

“Ask me again after filming,” You replied with a wink, causing Kimi’s eyes to go wide and his face to blush once again. “Now, let’s wrap this up!”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2025. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[soulxmakaweek]

SoulxMaka Week 2025: Now accepting themes!

We're so back, yall! We’re now accepting theme suggestions for this year’s event! Feel free to send as many themes as you’d like via our ask box or submission box starting today, January 13th. Themes are preferably one to two words - look at our master list for reference and browse previous years’ SoMa content!

If you’re new to SoulxMaka Week and how it works, check out this post, or contact us here at @soulxmakaweek!

Stand by for more announcements and a schedule!

[sukunasbow]

the interview.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!interviewer!reader.

warnings: none.

in which the internet notices a certain formula one driver in your instagram likes.

yourusername 📍 new york city

liked by zendaya, charles_leclerc, and 274,681 others

yourusername still in shock rn. nyc is beautiful and interviewing the cast of challengers was such a huge moment 🫶🏻 amazing cast and brilliant movie!

view 12,432 comments

zendaya you’re literally the sweetest 💗 thank you for the interview! such a fun time!

yourusername stop, i am such a fangirl.

user3 girl you always have so much chemistry with the celebrities you interview

user12 deadass 😭 she had both of those boys blushing and down badddd

user36 i NEED to see this movie rn

yourusername you do!! it’s wonderful

user63 any f1 fans here? did yall see charles in the likes?? 👀

user7 omg glad someone else noticed that! i wonder if she’s going to interview some drivers

user4 yesss, do they know each other?

user63 no i don’t think so, he doesn’t follow her, maybe he has a crush 😙😂

yourusername uploaded a story

charles_leclerc miami, hopefully. 🙃

yourusername 📍 miami

liked by charles_leclerc, f1, and 481,622 others

yourusername i’m out here in miami… 🌴

view 78,263 comments

user42 iconic caption, you’re iconic

liked by yourusername

charles_leclerc i was right, what’s my prize?

liked by yourusername

user7 CHARLES?? WHAT? WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?

user63 huh??? oh my??

f1 excited for this week…😍👀

liked by yourusername

user7 y/n l/n in her f1 era?? is she going to do the driver interviews for the miami gp?

user12 i hope so, she’s amazing

user92 miami?? charles in the likes?? charles is in miami?? the miami gp is coming up?? is this a hint y/n??

liked by yourusername

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and 538,393 others

yourusername loving miami and the atmosphere. the first round of interviews with the @.f1 drivers is out now, i hope you guys enjoy because i definitely did, such wonderful and inspiring people! see you guys tomorrow 👀🙏

view 236,924 comments

f1 thank you! you are incredible and we’re honoured to have you joining us this week!

liked by yourusername

mclaren 🧡 thanks for interviewing us

user12 ferrari boys next?!

liked by yourusername

maxverstappen1 ❤️👍

lewishamilton it was nice to meet you! 😊

user54 gorgeous as always

lance_stroll ☺️ thank you for the wonderful interview

pierregasly alpine next?

yourusername of course 😗

charles_leclerc i’m ready for my interview y/n

yourusername only if you bring me some lec icecream ngl..

charles_leclerc deal. what flavour?

user7 I AM GOING INSANE WTH IS THIS!!

user63 get a room fr

joaofelix79 when are you going to interview me?!😯

yourusername omg i’d be honoured. name the time and place, i’ll be there 🏃🏼‍♀️⚽️

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 639,219 others

yourusername all of the formula one interviews are officially posted on my youtube channel! hope you all love them and got some new and fun information on your favourite drivers! xx 🏎️💋

view 293,222 comments

user12 the tension in the charles interview?? insanity

user82 she’s better than me i would’ve been folding and on my knees in seconds with the way charles was acting

charles_leclerc going to miss seeing you around, had fun talking with you

yourusername same here 💗

user7 y’all are fucking with me ik you’re going to film more interviews together…right?

user45 ASK HER OUT CHARLES

user9 petition for more interviews with y/n and charles

user12 signing rn!!

user30 SIGNED

f1 hopefully you’ll be working with us again in the future ☺️ thank you for everything!

liked by yourusername

yourusername uploaded a story

user19 HELLO?? PLEASE TELL ME THIS IS CHARLES

user12 OH MY 😨 Y/N & CHARLES??

charles_leclerc ofc, i had to see you again.

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername and 2,582,148 others

charles_leclerc first of many dates

view 582,739 comments

yourusername wow i guess my interviewing skills are 10/10, so good you had to ask me out

charles_leclerc 🙄🙄 i guess

user82 SUCH A CUTE COUPLE

user12 she’s stunning!

liked by charles_leclerc

user9 i knew he wanted her

oscarpiastri ❤️ cute

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

Right Compartment, Right Time

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

genre: neutral (?)

requested? yes

el's thoughts: i wrote this request weeks ago and forgot to post it.. sorry haha i hope yall like it!

bucky masterlist

The train rumbled quietly along the tracks, dim yellow lights flickering above as the world outside blurred into black. Y/N tucked her hands deeper into the pockets of her jacket, blinking slowly as she scanned the nearly empty car. She just needed a seat. Quiet, undisturbed, warm enough to close her eyes for a little while.

Her eyes landed on a compartment toward the back. Only one figure sat inside—leaned back, head turned toward the window, arm stretched across the seat beside him. From where she stood, he looked asleep. Or at least, not interested in the company. But it was late, and he wasn’t sprawled across the whole thing like some people did.

She slid the door open as quietly as possible.

“Sorry,” she murmured, just in case. “Just gonna—yeah.”

No response.

She slipped into a seat that was a bit away from him to keep a comfortable distance. He didn’t stir. A hood shadowed part of his face, a leather jacket pulled tight over his broad shoulders. His hand—his right hand—rested on his thigh. Gloved.

His left—

She blinked. Metal. Fingers of steel gleamed faintly in the low light.

Oh.

She swallowed. But still, he wasn’t doing anything. Just breathing. Still as stone. And frankly, she was too tired to overthink it. Her head hit the window with a dull thunk.

They rode in silence for a few stops, the train nearly empty now, long past rush hour and far beyond midnight. Until—

The door to the compartment slid open with a careless clatter.

“Hey there, sweetheart.” A voice. Slurred. Too close.

Y/N’s eyes snapped open. Three men stood in the doorway, one of them already halfway inside. She straightened up instantly.

“I’m good, thanks,” she said, voice firm.

“C’mon,” another one said with a smirk, stepping in. “You’re sittin’ in here all alone. Thought we’d keep you company.”

“She said no,” the man who she had assumed was sleeping said suddenly.

Y/N turned. So did they.

The man had shifted. Hood still low, face shadowed—but now he was sitting forward, one hand braced on his knee. The other glinted in the light.

“Mind your own business, man,” one of the guys said. “We’re just being friendly.”

“You’re bothering her.” His voice was calm. Controlled. But the kind of calm that warned of something sharp under the surface.

The first man stepped closer, puffing up. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

The stranger finally lifted his head.

And they froze.

Because suddenly they were looking into the ice-cold stare of James Buchanan Barnes—the Winter Soldier himself.

“Oh shit,” one of them muttered, recognizing him a second too late.

Bucky stood up slowly, towering over all three of them. When he moved, it was fast. Precise. Mechanical.

One of the men reached out like an idiot—either to push or punch, Y/N didn’t know—but Bucky caught his wrist mid-air with his metal arm and twisted. The man cried out, knees buckling.

Another lunged forward, and Bucky threw the first guy aside like a ragdoll. A solid right hook sent the second one crashing into the doorway. The third just stood there, staring, frozen in terror.

“Get. Out.” Bucky growled.

They scrambled. All three of them, bruised and wide-eyed, fled down the corridor without another word.

Silence.

Y/N exhaled, finally letting her muscles unwind. She hadn’t realized how tense she was until now.

“…Thank you,” she said quietly.

Bucky sat back down, resting his head on the glass again like nothing happened. “They were annoying.”

She smiled a little despite herself. “You could say that.”

He looked at her then, blue eyes more tired than dangerous now.

“You okay?” he asked, softer this time.

She nodded. “Yeah. I am now.”

“…Good.”

A beat.

“I’m Y/N, by the way,” she offered after a moment.

“Bucky.”

“I know.”

He huffed a faint breath through his nose. “Figures.”

She watched him for a second. “You always ride trains at 1 a.m. and save girls from creeps?”

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “Only when I can’t sleep.”

Y/N let herself smile a little wider. “Guess I picked the right compartment.”

He didn’t answer, but the corner of his mouth twitched—just barely.

And for the first time that night, the quiet between them felt… safe.

[urlocalmultigroupfan]

ᴇx ᴘᴛ 3 ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ (이민호)

pairing: lee minho x fem!reader, exes to lovers

summary: based off of ex by stray kids

tags/warnings: angsty, bittersweet, slow heartbreak, quiet pain, two povs, not fully proofread, odd ending kinda?? its stiff feeling

a/n: omg the series is over! not one of my best but this is the first series i actually finished 😭 i have one series in my drafts rn and the ending to its okay im okay as well, so stay tuned everybody!! (this is a scheduled post.)

pt 1 pt 2 pt 3

masterlist!

It’s strange, falling for someone you already loved.

You expected it to feel the same as before, like returning to the comfort of something familiar. Like rereading your favorite book, one you could quote by heart. But this feels different.

It’s quieter. Slower. Like planting something new in soil that once held something else.

This time, you’re not rushing. You’re just… learning.

You begin seeing Minho again. Not every day, and not in the way you used to. But he’s there.

Sometimes it’s coffee after work. You sit across from him and listen to him talk about small things, like the neighbor’s cat or the new ramen shop he discovered. Sometimes it’s late-night calls, when neither of you can sleep, and he reads something off his phone just to hear your laugh.

Sometimes it’s silence. And that’s okay too.

Because now, it’s a silence that feels shared, not empty.

It’s early spring when he asks you to go for a walk. The cold still lingers in the air, sharp against your jacket, but the trees are beginning to bloom.

He walks beside you, close but not quite touching.

Then, out of nowhere, he says it.

“I never stopped loving you.”

You freeze on the sidewalk. The words hang in the space between you, weightless and heavy all at once.

You turn to him. “Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

He looks at you, eyes soft. “Because I thought it’d sound like I was just trying to fix what I ruined.”

“Aren’t you?” you ask.

“Maybe. But I’m not trying to go back,” he says, voice steady. “I just want to try again. This time with the version of us that knows what we’re risking.”

And something in your chest eases.

Not because everything is fixed. But because he finally said the truth out loud.

You end up sitting on a park bench, hands just barely brushing between you.

No grand declarations. No kiss to seal it. Just the quiet understanding of two people who still care, even after everything.

He reaches for your hand slowly.

This time, you don’t pull away.

You let him hold it, like something sacred. Like something he won’t let go of again.

And maybe that’s what healing really looks like. Not forgetting. Not pretending nothing broke. Just choosing to stay anyway.

He walks you home. When you reach your door, he doesn’t ask to come inside.

He just holds your hand a little longer and looks at you in that way he used to, like you’re the only person in the world worth his time.

“So,” you ask with a small smile, “what are we now?”

Minho tilts his head, thinking. Then he gives you that crooked smile you missed so much.

“We’re figuring it out.”

You nod. That’s enough.

For now, it’s enough to be here. To be trying. To be real.

hope yall enjoyed <33

todays playlist...

all in by stray kids, ice on my teeth by ateez, easy by stray kids, rude by magic!, deer hunter by &team, confessions by flo rida, heeseung, jake, and paul russell, on my mama by victoria monet, panic by beomgyu, love scenario by ikon, daydream by enhypen, butter by bts, strategy by twice, so fresh so clean by outkast, best part by giveon and h.e.r, attitude by ive, fri(end)s by v

taglist is open! please comment if you would like to be added <3

@rockstarkkami @sirloncelot-of-bananas @jisunggy @me-on-a-archive @hyunjiiza @highway-143 @hvseunq143 @hyuneskkami