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ennabear · 2 days ago

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✴︎ —PAINT THE AGES A HUNDRED SHADES OF GOLD ⊹₊⟡⋆

I DON’T WANNA TALK ABOUT LOVE ANYMORE ‘CAUSE IT’S GETTING TOO MUCH FOR ME …

cw: councilor!sevika x painter!mel, sevika is a lil sad and mean but she gets over it, sevika is also kind of a loser who can’t stop talking when she gets drunk, jinx and isha mentions because i’m evil and we know this, mel paints sevika nude, body worship, lots of comfort, oral sex, 18+

word count: 7.3k

it’s been months since sevika’s big move, and she fucking hates it to say the least.

all of these pilties are stuck up, even more than she remembers. which is a lot. she’s exhausted, she questions why she’s even a part of the council if all they do is ignore her. showing up every day and listening to them talk about her home and her people the way they do makes her sick.

they draft plans to raid the markets, shutting down anyone who isn’t licensed to be selling meat or rice or bread, but they refuse to let anyone get a license to sell those things. of course, she’s glad that she gets to eat three meals a day now, but with every bite she takes, she’s reminded of her home, and how starving they must be over there.

no matter how much she fights back, offers up a real plan that could make peace between the rivaling nations, they all just snicker and point fingers at her like she’s some sort of circus act.

and don’t ask her about how much she likes being called councilor sevika, because she doesn’t like it at all. she’s not a councilor, and maybe that’s a good thing, because it’s the last thing she’d ever wanna be.

still, she keeps her emotions under control. this is a huge opportunity to help get zaun on it’s feet and cut ties with piltover officially, she won’t spoil it by making a scene and giving up. no matter what, she’s gonna make an effort, even if it means being locked in a room with a group of rich pigs who’ve never felt that growing pit of hunger in their stomachs that make them so dizzy that they keel over on the streets.

that they die on the streets.

so yeah, it’s not easy, not even a little bit.

most of her nights are spent alone in her room. it’s nice, “small” compared to the rooms everyone else occupies, but still bigger than any house she’s ever seen in the undercity. it has large windows that let every bit of light in, but it’s still eerily dark at night compared to zaun.

in zaun, there are neon lights and buzzing street lamps that glow and flicker at every hour, so when it gets dark, the colorful lights bounce off of every inch of the city. you can see them in the reflections of the puddles, bright streaks of light flying up into the night from behind buildings and stretching until they’re out of sight.

here, in piltover, they have different kinds of lights. tiny, white holes in the sky called stars that shine when it gets dark. they have spotlights and statues and lanterns, but it gets lonely at night. everyone is at home, distancing from their friends and their jobs, getting sleep and resting up for whatever the next day will bring.

there isn’t really any rest in zaun, just a small wink of sleep whenever you catch it, and you’re up again. everyone’s grouchy and hungry and cold, but it makes for good shimmer sales, and the bar is a great place to find refuge when you need a break from it all.

so sevika sleeps with all of her lights on. an attempt to remind her of home— although her home doesn’t have a queen sized bed, fluffy pillows and soft blankets, lamps, alarm clocks, fireplaces, clean water on their nightstands, and stars that shine through their windows.

the stars might be her favorite part about piltover. probably the only good thing about piltover. she doesn’t really know what they are or what they do, but they’re nice to look at late at night when she can’t manage to sleep.

every time she finds herself staring up at them, she sends a prayer or two up to janna. always one for the people, a prayer that even though they pretend to hate each other, and there sure are a few goons who are ready to slit her throat for never paying them back, she hopes they’re okay.

she hopes that ran and theiram have got the bar under control, that vi and ekko manage to keep the chaos limited, and most of all, that jinx and isha are doing alright.

ever since silco died, her whole world was flipped upside down and shaken vigorously. who knew that someday she’d be missing jinx? but she does. she cries at night for the blue haired girl, praying for her safety and her happiness, hoping that she’s managed to keep some of her creativity after everything that went down.

and of course for the more tolerable blue haired kid, isha.

she prays that isha is still attached at the hip to jinx, that her fluffy hair gets dyed that awful bright blue color as often as she wants it to, that she’s found some way to communicate with the world while her voice is at rest.

she’s got no clue as to where they could be. one second, she’s wishing jinx would leave her alone. that she’d pack up her inventions and make a home for them far away from sevika’s life. the next second, they’re gone. no warning, no heads up whatsoever, just completely taken from her life.

but if she wishes to find any wisp of happiness, she’s gonna have to push these thoughts to the back of her mind, only letting them front when she’s alone and awake and accompanied by the stars. they’re the only things who understand her.

——

if you listen closely, you might be able to hear the sound of mel’s thoughts buzzing around in her mind.

the past few months have given her some intense whiplash, but things are finally starting to straighten out. her life isn’t exactly normal, but she’s growing used to her… new self.

she spends most of her time perched at her easel, painting the canvas in beautiful colors that fall over various people or places. it’s therapeutic for her, whatever image or question or anger she has lingering in her head, she can work it out with the paints. when she’s done, she lines them up in front of her.

it helps her see things more clearly, like a thought that can’t float away, frozen in time for her to analyze further. some of them are just plain colors. gold, with white, yellow, and bronze streaks, an attempt to recreate the swirls that are painted on her own body.

sometimes she paints her mother, her eyebrows lowered in a scowl and her silvery gray hair crowning her head. jayce and viktor occasionally make an appearance, both of their faces lost in thought as they stare at various equations and formulas that she can’t quite make out.

sometimes she just sees miscellaneous things, quick visions that she needs to bring to life. countless canvases are covered in black, with that dark red fog reaching into it like vines. there’s also the hextech that makes the occasional appearance, but she can’t quite get that bright, rich blue color right.

a few times before, she’s attempted portraits, but she doesn’t prefer them. lest has been one of her closest friends during all of this, she can sit and pose for hours while mel works away at her figure on the canvas. they’ve also tried painting together, but mel prefers her alone time.

she’s tried recreating the pictures from her memory, but it never comes out as well. she covers the canvas in thick paint, a bronze, brown, and white, making up jayce’s features. but she always clouds his face with shiny white webs, and those glistening, rainbow stars. the ones that stole him away.

while she sits, her body stays stagnant, eyes racing around the blank canvas. she mixes the colors in her head before she even opens the tubes, her eyes proportion it all for her, so she rarely makes sketches anymore.

recently, she’s been more interested in staying in and shutting out the world. the occasional knock rings out against her door, but she can’t be bothered to investigate. she doesn’t wanna give her opinions anymore, doesn’t wanna lead all of topside to peace and gas the streets of the undercity. really, she never signed up for that. sure, she’s ambessa’s daughter, but she doesn’t care to be a leader anymore. not when all it does is get people hurt and killed.

but apparently it’s urgent this time, because the knocking persists.

“um, mel?” a timid voice asks. “i hate to bother you, but the council requires yo—”

she flings the door open, clad in her white robe and slippers. her hood hangs halfway over her head as she glares at the man, but he insists on escorting her to the council meeting. her feet gently pad against the floor as she walks through the long halls, already dreading having to play referee for a group of adults who should know better.

but ambessa is gone now, and these people need someone to give them any sort of direction.

the dome shaped room welcomes her, and although she dreads being there, the sun shining through the stained glass is gorgeous. she spies a few familiar faces sitting in their respective seats, and notices some new ones who were added after the war.

“but they need the money!” one councilor booms, one of the newer ones who mel doesn’t quite recognize yet. “you can’t just cut their funds and raise the tax prices, they—”

“councilor sevika, please.” someone says, talking over her voice. “what possibly could they need more money for? our city needs to be rebuilt, and it’s them who’s caused all of this destruction.”

mel observes quietly, noticing the tears that fill sevika’s eyes. she makes an assumption that they’re either out of sadness, anger, or exhaustion, but she can’t quite tell. one thing she does know, though, is that it isn’t fair.

it’s not fair to just drag a zaunite up to topside and force her to be the only one representing her nation. especially when she has to be locked in a room full of people who hate her, who think she’s nothing more than just undercity trash to mock and make fun of.

mel’s surprised that sevika has held her ground for this long. if that were her, she’d want to pack up and leave within a day, especially when she notices the snorts and sideways glances that she gets every time she opens her mouth.

“have you even been down there?” sevika asks. “have you seen the bodies lying on the streets? have you heard the sobs of the starving children?”

they all look at her, unable to imagine what hunger even is, much less an entire nation overcome by it. shoola offers a sympathetic frown, but it’s not enough for sevika. she’s exhausted, and the thought of seeing her home even more impoverished is killing her. worst of all, word on the street is that zaunites are beginning to call her a traitor.

she wishes that they could see how hard she’s working, how much she’s fighting for them behind the scenes. but she can’t exactly blame them, it must be hard to watch every leader they’ve ever had either fail at leading them to sovereignty or turn their backs on the people. must be worse to watch someone who they thought was on their side disappear into the council and watch as things just keep getting worse and worse down there.

and this makes sevika feel horrible.

it’s hard for her not to blame herself for this, especially because that’s what she’s used to. her job for years was to be silco’s right hand, so it was constantly her fault if something went wrong. that’s just how things are. if things don’t go her way, it must be her fault for not working harder to overcome it.

“i agree.” mel says plainly. “councilor sevika has firsthand knowledge of what it’s like for them, why shouldn’t we trust her?”

sevika is taken aback at this. she’s never seen someone so… rich looking… be this understanding toward her. but although it’s the bare minimum, she appreciates it. she’ll take whatever form of kindness she can get right now.

the other councilors stare at mel like she’s just grown three heads. obviously, they’ve never been told no a day in their life. sevika is glad that she gets to be present for the first time. some of them sputter and growl, some of them roll their eyes, but sevika just sinks back into her chair and decides to let them argue it out.

“i agree too.” councilor shoola says. “it’s only fair… unless, any of you would like to go down there and experience it for yourselves? then you could tell us all about their excess of funds.”

sevika sighs in relief, thanking janna or the universe or whatever god decided to help her out. she can’t exactly smile, at least not yet, but she manages a tiny grin, and decides that maybe she shouldn’t feel too bad about herself just yet.

mel is glad that sevika and shoola have at least a little bit of brains, but she’s starting to rethink having all of the others on the council. maybe they need to fire some, or at least add some more zaunites to level the playing field. although, she now knows that sevika can put up one hell of a fight, so maybe she doesn’t need it.

but the clock strikes two in the afternoon, and the councilors file out to get on with their day until they meet again tomorrow. sevika hangs back, waiting for everyone to leave before she returns to her office. but mel hangs back too, determined to talk to sevika more, to get to know her.

sevika pulls her cape over her shoulders, completely covering her figure before she exits the room. mel perks up and shoots her a questioning look.

“yes?” sevika asks.

“you’re brave.” mel says.

“no i’m not. d’you think it’s brave of me to leave my people starving and helpless down there while i have a real home and three meals a day?”

mel just stares blankly at her. that isn’t what she meant at all, but at the same time, she’s completely right. as much as she still believes that sevika is brave for putting up with the councilors, she should be calling everyone else brave, everyone in zaun who goes days without food. sevika is the luckiest of them all.

“that’s not what i meant.” mel explains. “i meant that you’re better than them because you stand your ground instead of just getting everything you want. you work hard for what you earn.”

sevika shrugs. “i guess you could say that.”

“do you miss it down there?”

“what do you think?” sevika grunts.

“i’d bet that you do, you just try not to show it in front of anyone.”

“yes, because showing weakness gets you killed.”

“not up here, it doesn’t. you should open up a little, it might be good for you.” mel suggests.

“i’ll pass.”

“i could help you.”

“i don’t need—”

“let me help you.” mel says, reaching out to grab sevika’s hand.

“help me how?” sevika asks.

“open up to me. tell me about your life. friends, family, past, anything.”

“okay… maybe.”

“okay, good.”

——

sevika has never been great at opening up to anyone, but mel is… understanding. as much as she hates to talk about her struggles to other people, mel is probably the best possible person to talk to. mel marched herself down sevika’s hall to her door, banging on it until sevika sleepily presented herself. she marched sevika down the hall and through the building until they reached her own suite, and she fed sevika more and more wine until she started to talk to her.

it started with just a confession. sevika was wine drunk and admitted that yes, she did miss her home, and that she hated topside. and then mel pressed for more, made her tell her specifically who she missed and what she missed about them.

the list of people who she missed was never ending. at the top— jinx and isha. in all honesty, mel is shocked to learn that sevika had anyone that she really considered family, much less a daughter or a niece. but sevika tells her all about them, how isha would beg to paint her nails or dye her hair, and how jinx finally had a sister who she could play with, instead of just being too young to do anything.

but when mel asks where they’ve gone, sevika freezes. she doesn’t know, and it’s not something she prefers to think about. dead is something she’d heavily considered, but that ending makes her too sad. as long as she doesn’t know that they’re dead, they’re not. at least not in her world.

she tells mel that she hopes they’re somewhere safe, somewhere that they can have fun together. like floating on a cloud, or living in outer space with the stars. maybe they are with the stars, and that’s why she loves them so much.

“you like the stars?” mel asks.

“that’s the only thing actually worth liking about this place, i think…” sevika slurs drunkenly.

“hmm, i guess they are pretty, aren’t they.” mel ponders.

“yeah and there are so many of them, and it’s like every time you see them you’re seeing a completely different sky. and they’re cool because they only come out at night when they think nobody can see them, it’s like they’re shy. but i always see them because i’m always awake with them.” she rambles.

mel can’t help but giggle. again, everything she said is exactly right, but she’s never seen it that way. sevika offers her a fresh new perspective, one that makes her ponder how much she knows about the world.

“sorry…” sevika whispers, suddenly aware that she’s drunkenly blabbering and probably making a fool of herself. she tries to blink herself sober but it doesn’t work.

“no worries. i like them too.” mel soothes.

“i think i should go.”

“already?” mel asks.

“it’s gett’n late. i have places to be tomorrow…” sevika sighs. mel stands and walks her to the door, grabbing on gently to her human arm in an attempt to stabilize the woman. she offers a sweet smile to sevika as she leaves, even takes her hand in her own for a second and squeezes it tightly, but sevika just stares at the floor.

“mel?” she asks finally, although in a timid voice.

“yes?”

“thanks for sticking up for me. i don’t know what those pigs would get up to without people like me and you.”

mel’s heart warms at this. sevika is so drunk that she’s starting to get sappy and sweet, and while it’s adorable, it’s clear that she needs to get home. but she’s glad that her effort isn’t going unnoticed, and she’s starting to really like sevika.

“of course.” she smiles again. “get some sleep for me, okay? don’t spend too much time with the stars.”

sevika curses herself for the warm feeling that wraps herself all around her, she hates that she’s being vulnerable and making friends. she just blames the feeling on the alcohol, but she knows that it’s not. because that light, warm feeling clings itself to her every time she sees mel.

it happens again when they coincidentally cross paths, mel on her way outside for some fresh air and sevika on her way to her room to sign papers until her fingers bleed. but she realizes for the first time that mel is so beautiful. she hasn’t spotted sevika yet, but the sunlight glowing in from the windows catches her golden streaked skin perfectly, and she’s shining. it’s like she’s a real life star, and sevika can’t peel her eyes away.

“oh, hi sevika.” mel grins.

“um… hi.” she responds, her heart suddenly beating faster than usual. “where are you going?”

“just outside. been cramped up inside all day and the smell of my paints are starting to give me a headache.”

“you paint?” sevika asks, although to anyone else the answer would be obvious.

“yeah, all the time. i’d love to show you someday.” she offers, already knowing that she’s gonna have to drag sevika by the arm and force her to visit.

“okay… yeah, that would be nice.” she says.

“what are you doing right now?” mel asks.

“i just have a lot of paperwork to fill out, letters to write, things to sign, you know how it is.”

“will you stop by later, then?”

“are you gonna make me?”

“probably. if you don’t show up by yourself.”

“alright, see you later then.”

——

sevika is dreading this outing. the more times she thinks about going back over to mel’s, the more anxious she gets. every time she’s been over there the past month, she’s ended up either drunk or blabbering on about stuff that doesn’t matter. or worse— drunk and blabbering. she always finds some way to make a fool of herself, and she doesn’t know how to stop. she just wishes it wasn’t so easy to open up to her, wishes that mel wasn’t so damn likable.

mel already knows she’s gonna have to drag sevika over to come look at her paintings. she always does. no matter how many times she tells the woman to come on her own terms, she finds herself stomping down to sevika’s door and forcing her to hang out. it’s cute, in mel’s mind, it’s like a date. so that’s what she finds herself doing tonight. cleaning up her suite a little, spinning one of her jazz records, and marching down to collect sevika.

she’s arranged her paintings in no particular order, but the array is beautiful. some are framed, some are smaller than others, some of them aren’t even finished. sevika feels so moved by this. she’s never seen anything so beautiful. not anything in real life, not mel herself, not even the stars are as beautiful as her paintings.

mel sits her down on the loveseat, pouring two glasses of wine and sitting down next to sevika, but sevika begs her to talk about her paintings. she’s dying to know how anyone could make anything look more beautiful than the stars. mel blushes at that compliment— it’s a lot coming from sevika for multiple reasons— but she decides that now it’s her turn to open up.

they sit an chat for hours, and before long, sevika feels as if she knows mel like the back of her hand. she now knows about jayce and viktor and what happened to them, about ambessa, her mother, the noxians, and the rest of her family. sevika’s oddly surprised. of course, she’s aware that mel is probably the strongest woman she knows, but she never would’ve guessed that she’s been through that much.

mel cries a bit, and sevika cries too, and they laugh about their emotions like old friends. for once in her life, sevika feels like maybe not everything sucks, and that maybe it’s okay to let herself fall for someone. she just hopes that mel feels the same way.

“sevika?” mel asks, still catching her breath after a fit of giggles.

“yeah?” she smiles.

“will you dance with me?”

“i don’t dance.” sevika says, laughing at the image of her dancing with someone. how silly.

“aww, come on! it’s just us and some jazz! you’ll be fine.” she reasons. “please?”

sevika rolls her eyes at mel’s outstretched hand, but she’s very tipsy and in a good mood, so how could she say no to the beautiful woman standing in front of her?

mel yanks her up by her arm, and sevika wastes no time following after her to the middle of the room where the big sky lights let the stars shine in. sevika scowls and tenses up a bit, but mel wraps her arms around sevika’s waist so gently, guiding sevika’s arm to press against her back. mel sways them back and forth a bit, and sevika soon loosens up and stares down at mel with a smile that puts all of the stars to shame.

“do you ever miss your arm?” mel asks.

“yeah, sometimes. i miss the one jinx made for me, i wish i didn’t take it for granted.” she responds, her mood quickly turning sad against her will.

“i could have one made for you.” mel offers.

sevika shakes her head and flattens her lips into a straight line. “they won’t let me have one on the council.”

it’s mel’s turn to roll her eyes now. “no, i’ll make you one that they’ll accept. they always listen to me, you know.” she grins.

“i guess that would be alright, as long as it’s not much of a hassle.”

“for you? nothing’s a hassle. don’t be silly.”

sevika’s eyebrows pull together in the middle and she pouts, tears quickly filling her eyes. nobody’s ever been this nice to her before. offering her a new limb, protection from the ruthless comments from the council, good wine, and a dance underneath the stars. she can’t help but cry, but she’s not afraid to anymore. with mel, she feels safe enough to be this vulnerable.

mel notices her sad expression, and she silently prays that she didn’t accidentally offend sevika, it’s the last thing she’d ever wanna do. “oh, what’s wrong? did i—”

sevika cuts her off with a kiss. she doesn’t wanna hear any apologies from mel, not after she’s been a literal angel to sevika this past week. mel’s lips are warm and welcoming, they taste sweet, like if gold was a flavor. she reaches her hands up and cradles the back of mel’s head, deepening the kiss.

mel is completely taken aback by this. she didn’t know that sevika had feelings for her. actually, she thought that sevika was sick of her. but she kisses sevika back, her lips are big and pouty and oh so soft. she also gets to feel sevika’s piercing up close, and the cold metal drags against the bottom of her lips ever so slightly. it’s a stark contrast, but a comforting one at that.

one thing leads to another, and they’re quickly back on the loveseat, lapping at each others tongues and giggling like kids and holding hands. sevika’s had tons of sex before, sure, but nothing comes close to this. she feels so special, so cared for, that she notices this strange, giddy feeling bubbling up in her chest.

little does she know, that feeling is called love.

she pins mel down to the seat, both of them breathless and high on this mysterious feeling— although it definitely has something to do with the liquor— and sevika almost cries again when mel spreads her legs beneath her white gown. the warm lamplight mixed with the starlight causes her to glow again, like she’s on fire, so sevika can’t help but kiss all over the gold patterns that paint her skin.

mel erupts into another fit of giggles, holding sevika’s shocked face in her hands. sevika tenses up slightly at her touch, but takes a deep breath and swallows all of her anxiety.

“can i?” sevika asks.

mel smiles and nods. “of course. you can do whatever you want to me.”

sevika shudders and reaches up mel’s dress, caressing her stomach and hips. mel is soft and malleable under her touch, and she’s golden. she reaches forward to tug her dress above her hips. sevika doesn’t think she’s ever seen such a beautiful sight, and mel absolutely adores sevika’s awestruck face.

the same golden markings that paint her face also trail down her abdomen, all the way to her ankles. there are thick streaks of gold that mirror each other on each side of her torso, twisting themselves into swirls and shapes. she also has small golden freckles littering her body, identical to the ones on her face. they look like stars.

best of all, as if sevika wasn’t already turned on enough, she has small, golden hairs that trail down from just beneath her belly button, only stopping when they crown her dripping hole. this woman is made of pure magic, and if sevika doesn’t get her mouth on her within the next millisecond, she thinks she might faint.

mel grabs sevika’s hand when she notices her hesitation, and this makes her snap back into the moment and start eating mel out. she starts slow, just some teasing, soft licks to her clit that make her shiver. mel moans so sweetly and beautifully and sevika feels like she’s floating.

sevika grips mel’s hand harder and harder as she keeps eating her out, and it’s times like these that she wishes she has two hands. one to hold mel’s with, and one to feel inside of her, pumping her full of her thick fingers. mel arches her back and thrusts up into sevika’s face, and they both nearly cum on the spot.

she pulls back for a second, a string of white slick connecting itself to sevika’s lips before dripping down her chin.

“sev, you’re doing so good, baby.” mel praises. “don’t stop, i’m so close.”

sevika speeds up her movements, determined to make mel cum. her big, silver eyes squeeze shut as her mouth works it’s magic, sucking on her clit and running her pointed tongue between mel’s folds to collect her slick.

but she doesn’t cum until sevika wraps her lips around her clit again, her piercing colliding with mel’s throbbing clit as she tips over the edge. a low whine is pulled from her throat, and sevika pulls back to admire the woman above her. mel yanks sevika up by her shirt, thanking her with a deep kiss. some of sevika’s lipstick is smudged, so mel wipes it off with her thumbs, as well as the wet slick that’s smeared all over her face.

sevika is suddenly very aware that she doesn’t need shimmer anymore, because she feels like mel’s sweet nectar is enough to get her high.

“i’m gonna need that new arm as soon as you can get it.” sevika says with her lips smashed against mel’s. “need to show you what else i can do.”

——

it’s been three weeks since then, and sevika’s been coming over every night. she still has lots of work to do, but mel helps her with all of it. they sort through tall stacks of paperwork, taking turns sitting on the others lap and pouring each other more wine. sometimes they get distracted with sex, but they try their hardest to stay focused. occasionally mel will bring out her paints and work on something new, forcing sevika to stay focused while she’s at work.

they also spend their mornings together. if they don’t wake up in the other’s arms, they’ll sleepily march down to their door and bang on it until they reunite and hold each other again.

but this morning, sevika wakes up in mel’s bed alone. she reaches out for the woman with her arm, but that side of the bed is just cold and empty. sitting up, she glances around the room until she spies mel in her silky white cloak painting on the balcony.

“mel?” she asks groggily. “why’re you up so early?”

“just had to finish something, love.” she responds, smiling at her girlfriend’s half awake state. “you can go back to sleep if you’d like.”

“can i at least see what you’re working on?”

“not yet.” she smiles. “it’s a surprise.”

sevika groans and turns around to go back inside, but mel catches her arm and yanks her back for a kiss. sevika kisses over each of mel’s golden freckles, and then her lips, then her nose, her forehead, chin, and then lips again, before returning inside. mel giggles and tries to swat sevika’s back before she gets away, but she’s too slow and the effort is wasted.

back inside, sevika grabs onto mel’s pillow and stuffs her face into it, bringing a familiar comfort that lulls her back to sleep. she’s shaken awake a few hours later, though. it’s mel, very gently rattling sevika’s shoulder while caressing her hair. “sevika, babe, wake up.” she whispers.

“mmmmh?”

“i have a present for you.”

“hmmmm?”

“wake up so you can open it.”

“ughhhhh.”

“oh, please. don’t be so pouty. i want you to see it! quickly, quickly!” she urges, yanking sevika back to the balcony. the sun is slightly higher in the sky now, some of the orange in the sky is still fading away but the sky is painted in a light yellow color, it matches mel a little bit.

she hands her a giant white box with mel’s name on it, a small golden bow sitting directly on the top. “what is this?” sevika asks.

“open it and see!” mel smiles.

so she does. she flips the lock on the box and pulls it open, a smooth, golden arm staring back at her.

“what is this?” sevika asks again, this time in disbelief. she couldn’t tell how serious mel was about acquiring a new arm for her, so she didn’t think she’d be receiving a new one this quickly, or one this pretty.

it’s a lot more modern compared to her other two arms that she’s had in the past. it has a matte gold casing all around it, with shimmery gold patterns that resemble mel’s carved into it. it has all five fingers, but they’re not as pointy, more resembling her human fingers than her past arms. sevika is overcome with emotions, and she turns around to pull mel in for a hug, hiding her tears on her shoulder.

“do you like it?” mel asks.

“i love it.”

“will you teach me how to put it on you?”

“of course.” sevika promises, and with that, mel tugs her inside and makes her sit and show her. it takes a bit of fumbling. sevika isn’t great at explaining things, but she also can’t do much with only one arm, so lots of trial and error occurs during the process. but eventually it’s all screwed in, and the first thing sevika does is pull mel in for a real hug.

mel never really realized how strong sevika is, and how crushing her hugs are. at least, not until now. she knows that sevika can hold her somewhat tightly, but one arm doesn’t do much. now that she as two arms though, mel is struggling to breathe with the way sevika is crushing her. or maybe it’s just because sevika wants to show her girlfriend some love. and she’s definitely not crying.

“i have one more thing.” mel says, although most of it gets muffled by sevika’s chest.

“what is it?” she asks.

“come outside and look.”

sevika follows her outside, grabbing onto mel’s elbow with her new hand.

“close your eyes.” mel says, so sevika squeezes her eyes shut and tries her hardest not to peek. mel dashes over to retrieve the painting on her canvas that’s now fully dry, and then she holds it to face sevika.

“okay, now open them.”

she opens her eyes to see mel holding one of her new paintings— the one she wasn’t allowed to see yet. but now she’s aware of why she wasn’t allowed to see it, because the painting is of her.

it’s sevika. hunched over at mel’s desk with her reading glasses on and a pen in her hand, a glass of wine half empty on the table next to her. the colors in the painting are very warm, likely resembling the warm lamps that decorate mel’s suite. and the most surprising thing— there’s a smile on sevika’s face.

it’s not something she’s ever seen on herself before. for one, she’s never been one to smile in general, it’s just not something she was ever used to doing. photographs are also very rare in zaun, so the only way she could’ve seen it on herself is by smiling in front of a mirror, which is even more rare.

sevika doesn’t even know how to feel. she should cry, because nobody has ever been this kind to her before, and she’s overwhelmed with emotions from the arm, the painting, and just being around mel.

she should also be happy. nobody has ever understood her as much as mel does, and she feels so honored to be seen in her artistic lense. she should be glad that she gets to live up here, where everything is safe and pretty and valuable. she’s also still half asleep, and can’t exactly tell if she’s dreaming or not.

“what do you think?” mel asks after a while.

“i don’t know what i did to deserve this.” sevika says honestly. “is there some kind of special occasion that i don’t know about? or are you just spoiling me.”

“well, mostly the latter,” mel laughs. “but it is our one month anniversary, if that counts for anything.”

“i didn’t get you anything.” sevika frowns, suddenly feeling way out of mel’s league, almost insecure.

“that’s alright.” mel smiles. “your presence is enough.”

sevika rolls her eyes and manages a smile too, yanking mel forward and giving her a sweet kiss. one month isn’t much, but it’s been the happiest month of sevika’s life, and things are starting to look up for her. for zaun, too.

“well,” mel starts, pulling away from sevika’s lips. “there is one small thing you could do for me.”

“and that is…?”

“model for me so i can paint you?” she asks with a happy shrug of her shoulders.

“now? but you just painted me.”

“yes, i’m aware.” she laughs. “but i haven’t painted your new arm yet, and that was from a few days ago but you just look so adorable today. please?”

sevika smiles too. how could she say no to mel when she asks so nicely? “alright, fine.” she agrees.

“good, and take all of your clothes off, too.”

sevika freezes. although mel has seen her naked hundreds of times, she suddenly feels shy.

“don’t worry, it’s just for us.” mel soothes. “lay on the bed and i’ll position you.”

so sevika is left no choice but to follow the orders she was given. she strips herself of her clothes— which is much easier now that she has two arms— and lays down on the bed, looking up at mel with her big, watery eyes. mel walks over and pushes her backward until she’s propped up with just one elbow.

“is this comfortable?” mel asks.

“uh… y-yeah.” sevika responds.

mel pries sevika’s legs open, positioning them apart so that she has a full view of sevika’s dripping cunt from her easel. sevika whimpers, her eyes widening and sparkling as she looks up at mel.

“don’t be shy.” mel teases. “it’s just me.”

“i know, sorry…” sevika says with a sigh, making a mental note to loosen up.

“are you ready for me to start? we’re probably gonna be here all day.”

“yeah. ready.” sevika responds.

“okay, let me know if you need a break.”

mel isn’t too fond of painting from models, but she can feel her opinion changing as she sculpts sevika with the paint. her legs are easy. long and thick, and she gets to mimic the way they’re pressed open.

her torso is next, which is one of her favorite things about sevika. her abs are hard and sturdy, but they get slightly softened out by the rolls of her stomach. then mel moves up to her tits, painting two perfectly pointed brown circles accented with thick, dark nipples.

her neck comes after, and then her arms, and finally her face. mel has memorized every little expression sevika has, so she has a lot to choose from, but she chooses the one that sevika is wearing right now. a goofy, lovestruck smile, adorned with a slight blush sparkling on her cheeks.

her eyes are also fun, they’re so big and sparkly and metallic, mel can’t help but paint stars in them. and of course, her nose, her tooth gap, her piercing, and her hair. they all come together to make up the most perfect face that mel has ever seen.

she moves on to the arms next, painting one with her thick muscles and her warm brown skin, and the other with a shiny gold. her shoulders are slightly slanted, and they have bite marks and hickeys carved into them, which makes mel immensely proud of herself.

and finally, sevika’s glistening cunt. she paints each fold tenderly, a small circle at the top covered slightly by a thin, fleshy hood. she paints the slick in between her thighs that just keeps collecting with her finest white and silver paints.

and of course, her bush, because she wouldn’t dare to forget it. she curls each stroke of her brush until it perfectly mirrors sevika’s thick, dark curls, and then she trails them all the way up her lower stomach.

she finishes the background next, but it’s not much. she doesn’t want anything to take away from sevika’s beauty. but she makes sure to add a few stars surrounding her of various sizes and shades of gold.

sevika has been surprisingly patient throughout the whole thing, mel predicted that she’d be begging for snacks only ten minutes in. but mel finishes quickly and she’s beaming with excitement as soon as she’s done.

“do you wanna see it?” she asks.

“you’re done already?” sevika replies.

“yeah. you’re an easy model.”

“okay, yeah, let me see.” sevika smiles.

mel lifts up the canvas and presents it to sevika, and it’s somehow even more beautiful than the other painting. mel captures her so beautifully, sevika is so honored to be viewed that way. for the first time in her life, she truly feels beautiful. and mel can tell that she feels that way too, through the tears that threaten to spill in her eyes.

and just as sevika is about to tackle mel to the bed too, she notices something in the bottom corner. in a shimmery gold writing, the words “my star. -mel m.” are painted. sevika looks up at mel with a questioning glance and asks, “what’s that?”

“it’s my signature. the title of the painting and my name.”

“‘my star’?” sevika reads off.

“yeah, because that’s what you are. you’re my star, sevika. you’re so beautiful and bright.”

and those words echo in sevika’s mind for the rest of time, especially when sevika pins mel down and rides her face into the pillow a few seconds later. she’s right. she is mel’s star, isn’t she.

#inspired by golden age by ethel cain because i can’t write a fic if it’s not based off of one of her songs 😭#ANYWAYS MELVIKA IS HEREEEEE #sevika #sevika arcane #arcane sevika #mel medarda #mel medarda arcane #mel arcane #melvika #sevika x mel #sevika x mel medarda #arcane #arcane netflix #arcane league of legends

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067supremacy · 3 days ago

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Jealousy

Just some good old Jealousy trope! This was something I found in my drafts from a while ago so not my best work but I hope you enjoy! ❤️

For more check my masterlist

Your team had just managed to make it through to the next round of games. Whether it was sheer luck or divine intervention, you did it. Sae-Byeok held your hand tightly as she couldn't handle the fact her long-term partner was almost killed in front of her very eyes. Luckily for her and you, number 289 a blonde girl with Sharp features who you had invited onto the team had saved your life. The speed at which it all happened left you stunned and on shaky legs. Luckily your girlfriend Sae-Byeok was able to walk you out of the arena as you didn't feel you had the strength to do so anymore.

The gunshots ring out behind you as the team you had just eliminated is sent to their deadly maker. "That could have been us," you weakly call out to no one in particular, your mind didn't even take in who had taken your hand as you were still in a daze. A voice from behind you rang through all the buzzing going around in your brain. "You did great, we couldn't have won that round without you." The blonde who saved your life says in a cheery voice. Looking back at the game itself you can't even remember a single thing you did, Sae-Byeok took on most of the hard work for you. She was doing everything in her power to make sure you got over the line, once again showing the loyalty and love she has for you.

After making it back to the Main Hall with the bunk beds lined up the piggy bank above your head fills with the cash of the fallen. The mountain of money gets bigger and you realise that your and Sae-Byeok's dream of getting her family back together under one roof is finally in sight. The blonde from before took a seat next to you and your girlfriend. "That's a lot of money, I hope it is enough to get me out of debt" you hear a person behind you say as the multiple groups speak among themselves. It was all becoming tribalistic now, the groups were getting smaller and less trustworthy, you had the stance of making as many friends as possible but your girlfriend didn't trust easily, and she certainly didn't trust any of the low lives and criminals she was sharing this space with.

The Blonde girl rubbed your shoulder and asked how you were doing which had gotten Sae-Byeok gritting her teeth in anger but she bit down on her tongue and let it slide given that this same girl had just saved you. But the squeeze on your hand became painfully tight leading you to yelp out in pain which snaps her out of her thoughts instantly. “I’ll be back in a second,” Sae-Byeok says before making her way to the women’s restroom. She checked herself in the mirror as she cleared away the specs of blood on her face before a familiar blonde girl appeared next to her. “You’re a very lucky person.” She says as she washes her hands in the same faucet Sae-Byeok was using. “What?” Sae-Byeok responds with confusion on her face and voice.

“I would do anything to make that mine…. Watch your back because I’m coming for what is yours.” The blonde girl says all the while giving your girlfriend a cheeky smile as she starts to pace back to your position. Upon Sae-Byeok's return the after-game snacks and drinks were being served to the remaining contestants as your partner scanned the room for your existence she spotted you in a crowd, still able to pick you out of the many around you. But then she witnesses the same blonde making you laugh. She balled her hand into a fist and started storming her way to your location, she pushed the blonde out of the way and took hold of your waist while planting a kiss on your cheek. “Are you okay?” She asks with genuine concern as she studies your features. “I’m okay,,, can’t say the same for the poor girl you just threw to the floor” you respond in amusement. You knew exactly what was going on, it happened far too many times outside the games…. She was getting Jealous.

“She said she wanted what is mine…. I’ll never let that happen.” Sae-Byeok spits with venom laced in her voice at the thought of this bitch taking her pride and joy. You pull her face to while cupping her cheek to be nose to nose with her. Lips brushing close together. “Does she know that I’m owned by you? If not you should show her.” You say seductively to Sae-Byeok knowing that would perk her up, you knew she loved nothing more than making it clear who you belonged to. She takes your bottom lip between her teeth and bites down slightly, producing small moans from you that no one seems to notice except for the one pair of eyes Sae-Byeok was hoping was seeing all of this. She kissed you deeply, her tongue mingling with yours in a dance for dominance which she easily wins. You take your position as the bottom very seriously knowing it pleased Sae-Byeok beyond belief to know you were fully committed to her. As the kiss breaks apart you decide to calm her mind completely.

“I’m yours, you have nothing to worry about…. I think you should remind me of that in the restroom.” You say as you take her hand and quickly make your way to enjoy a jealousy-fueled session you are sure to remember………

#hoyeon jung #imagine #hoyeon squid game #sae byeok #squidgame #squid game headcanons #sae byeok is love #sae byeok x reader #fluff #kang sae byeok #067squidgame #player 067 x reader #player 067 #067 x reader

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sonarspace · 3 days ago

Note

hello!!! i love love love your writing but am not sure if you are taking requests (if it says on your blog somewhere, i apologize for missing it!).

i was wondering if you could write something for husband or boyfriend gojo taking care of sick reader 🥲, as i myself have a cold and am not feeling well at all ☹️. thank you so much!

an. nooo get well soon anony 😞🫂 i already had a similar idea in my drafts, so enjoy this drabble, i hope it makes you feel a tad bit better <3 ✶ content. established relationship. soft + suggestive

gojo wasn’t exactly known for his self-restraint—especially when it came to you.

“you know,” you mumbled, voice scratchy and thick with the weight of your cold, “hovering over me isn’t going to magically make me better.”

gojo perched at the edge of the bed, cross-legged, arms folded, watching you like he had nowhere else to be—like watching you was his favorite pastime. his eyes practically glittered with mischief as he grinned.

“hovering? i’m not hovering,” he shot back, leaning down until his forehead gently knocked against yours. “this is called… being attentive. loving. the perfect boyfriend, even.”

you groaned, shifting beneath the weight of the blanket, tugging it higher to escape the heat of his stare. “you’re breathing too loud to be the perfect anything.”

he hummed softly, entirely unbothered by your weak protests. if anything, it only encouraged him. his hand slipped beneath the blanket, finding your thigh with practiced ease.

“you’re hot,” he said, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “not in the fever way, though that’s definitely there too.”

you shoved at his chest weakly, but he barely budged, letting out an exaggerated gasp as if you’d wounded him. “you’re impossible.”

“big words for someone sniffling into my hoodie,” he teased, fingers trailing along your leg, inching closer to dangerous territory.

“satoru,” you warned, though even you could hear the lack of conviction in your voice.

he tilted his head, lips barely brushing your cheek now. “what? i’m just making sure you stay warm. gotta keep your circulation going, you know?”

“that’s not how circulation works,” you shot back, squirming when his hand slid further up your thigh, just beneath the hem of your shorts.

“sure it is. i read it somewhere,” he replied easily, shifting closer so his chest pressed against your back. his nose nuzzled into your hair, voice dropping to something smoother, deeper. “besides… if i get sick too, we can stay in bed all week.”

“you’ll regret that when you can’t breathe through your nose.”

“mmm. worth it.”

his palm settled low on your stomach now, thumb drawing lazy circles against your skin. every touch, every subtle shift of his fingers felt intentional, but not rushed—like he was more focused on teasing you than anything else.

“stop trying to seduce me while i’m sick,” you grumbled, though the way your body instinctively curled into him gave you away.

“oh, i’m not trying,” he murmured, lips grazing along the curve of your shoulder. “if i was trying, you’d already be sweating for reasons other than the fever.”

you rolled your eyes, but the heat blooming in your stomach had nothing to do with the illness.

“besides,” he continued, hand slipping beneath your hoodie now, his palm warm against your bare skin, “you’re the one cuddling up to me. i’m just a victim in all this.”

“victim, sure,” you muttered.

gojo shifted again, and suddenly you were in his lap, your back pressed against his chest, blanket tangled somewhere between you. his legs caged yours easily, and his arms wrapped snugly around your waist, anchoring you to him.

“better?” he asked, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“it’s too hot for this,” you groaned, squirming.

“you can take it off,” he whispered, tugging at the edge of your hoodie playfully.

you let out a soft laugh despite yourself. “you’re ridiculous.”

“i know,” he replied, voice light but with that familiar edge of affection. his lips brushed the side of your neck, and you could feel the smirk tugging at them.

his hands, large and steady, rested low on your stomach, but he didn’t push further. instead, he held you there, content to simply feel the steady rise and fall of your breath against him.

“i’ll be good,” he whispered, lips curling into a soft smile against your skin. “just let me stay like this a little longer.”

and maybe you were too tired to argue, or maybe you just liked the way his hands felt on you—either way, you let him.

#luna✮lover #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #soft gojo #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jjk fanart #gojo drabbles #jjk drabbles #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader

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rhenuvee · 3 days ago

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The Secret Menu [Diluc x reader]

Summary: Diluc's love for you is overflowing, so he wants to find a way to show you... [established relationship]

A/N: Happy new year everyone! Manifesting positive vibes and good health for you all! Sorry for the inactivity again, I am trying to post and interact more but clearly it's difficult aaa

Warnings: Old draft... just trying to get rid of it so sorry if this is cringe and rushed

════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ════

"...What's your favourite drink?"

Diluc asks this one evening you decide to accompany him at the Angel's Share. You're in a safe spot, closest to him of course. He was thinking about something for quite a while- something to surprise you with.

"My favourite drink..?"

You didn't think anything of the question, though you were curious when you saw Diluc's expression- deep in thought, yet spaced out. You give it some thought and he listens attentively as you talk about the drinks you like: You ramble about the sweet fruit juice which was your first drink Diluc gave you at the Angel's Share, the milky drink you had that quenched your thirst on hot days, a flowery drink you had in Liyue that soothed your stomach...

A week passed, and you felt like Diluc was busying himself more. You decided to visit him again at his work, but surprisingly he approached you with a task.

"Could you try these for me?" He places four small glasses in front of you, with the same coloured liquid in them.

"Oh! Is this going to be on the menu?" You ask while examining the liquid curiously before trying them.

"S-Sort of." He replies. He places a glass of water to reset your tastes after each one, as well as a tissue just in case. How sweet, you think, smiling at the thought of his care for you. However, you don't expect even more sweetness when you try each one, the subtle differences on your tongue.

"Mm, they're all really good 'Luc~" He relishes in your delighted expression, eyes closed and smiling for the taste of the drink he made. But just this once there's something else he's anticipating. He waits patiently for your comments as you think of what to say. "Three has a thicker texture, while two has more sweetness from the fruit you added. I'm not sure which one patrons would like more, though..."

"Which one do you like?" Diluc asks straightforwardly. He internally smiles at how sweet yet honest you were with your feedback. But your opinion is what he needs.

"Me?" You ask. And suddenly you feel a hint of something different in the way the asks you this with softness. The way he looked at you so lovingly- well he always does, but it felt like the same look he gave you when he held you close at night, soothing you before finally falling asleep. Or when he arrived with flowers for you when you go on dates. "I like this one the best, but maybe with a bit more of the fruity flavour."

Diluc only quietly nods and immediately gets started on the change you suggested. It is from this response that you wonder what's got him distracted- or rather what he's puzzled about. You've come to know that this is the face he makes when he is thinking hard about something.

"Why do you ask...?" You subtly ask, almost as a whisper. You didn't want to intrude in case this was a secret. You so soft that you weren't sure if he heard you and if you should repeat it. But Diluc always hears your voice. He turns to you, and gives the new and improved drink without saying a word. You're too occupied with the anticipation of the new taste, so you don't notice the blush slowly rising on his cheeks and his furiously beating heart. You take a sip and your eyes widen.

"It's perfect." You blink with a smile, giving him the positive note that he's made it the best. However, you don’t seem to realize his true intention with the drink until you look at your lover’s tender expression.

"It's for you." He says softly, looking at you dearly. He relishes in the moment that your mouth subtly hangs in an O-shape, expressing your surprise.

Yes, your favourite drink. He wanted to make something for you. However, he couldn't paint pictures as good as his father did. Though he can cook, he doesn't think he'll master dishes as well as Adelinde and the other maids. And Diluc would absolutely kill for the ability to make you a piece of jewelry, but his hands are too coarse, he thinks. Not delicate enough to make you something of quality- something perfect for you. He wants to make something from his own hand- that showed his love. And so...

"You made a drink for me?" You repeat in a question, starting to feel emotional. Your hands instantly feel the need to pull your lover closer, and he notices as he complies with your movement, leaning toward you and letting you hook your arms around his neck.

Diluc gives a soft but slow nod, but it's all that's needed to convey his confirmation of love. You share a quick kiss, letting your lips submit to the rhythm he guides you with. His large hand comes over to smooth against the skin of your cheek, then grazes behind your ear. You both pull back, relishing in the short and sweet moment, unable to stop the smiles on your faces.

Though you've been together for a while, you always appreciate his thoughtful gestures and how he reaffirms his love for you more and more. You love the drink Diluc made for you, but most of all, you love him.

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#genshin #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #diluc x reader #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc fluff

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spiderfunkz · 1 day ago

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BLOWN A WISH

pairings. cho hyun-ju x f!reader

cw. established relationship, fluff, kisses, hyun-ju forgets reader's birthday, this takes place long after the games (they all survive and get a fair share of the money yay).

author's note: i have two more fics for hyun-ju in my drafts, please keep requesting for her! she's such a dear i love her so much RAAAH

to be fair, birthdays weren't a big thing in your house.

it never bothered you, well, sometimes it does. only when you were little, you used to get invited to birthday parties, then, you realized how much it mattered at that age. but no matter how much you protested to your parents, they denied every single request.

you matured though. you realized that it was just a reminder of the time passing since you were born. ever since then you never mind it.

and well, as you got older, you had bigger things to worry about. school, classes, studies, college, jobs, work, bills, bills, bills.. so many bills. to be covered in debts you are unable to pay, the thought of your birthday never crossed your mind ever again.

but after some, not so pleasant events, you managed to get back on your feet. you managed to pay your debts, find a job, a nicer apartment, and a very, very, nice woman.

cho hyun-ju had her struggles as well. you talked to her only once throughout the deadly games, but soon you were reunited during a stressful night at a convenience store. you soon grew a bond together, sure it was bonded by trauma— but it was amazing to have someone close by.

you two grew closer everyday. after some time, she moved into your apartment. it was everything you could ever imagine. things were great. you went on dates, talked everyday, cooked together— hyun-ju is an amazing cook you noted, and everything seemed perfect.

everything is perfect. but recently, jobs have been piling up, specifically hyun-ju's. your time and her time kept getting disrupted by sudden meetings, paperwork, and nagging clients.

soon, the coffee table by the couch was filled with unorganized files. you could only shower hyun-ju with reassurance and motivating words, making her coffee from time to time, and giving her forehead kisses before going to bed early.

you respected her work. so you never bothered her. besides, you got your own things to settle.

not long after, your birthday came.

hyun-ju had planned everything beforehand. she'd come back from work earlier, she'd cook your favorite meal, and she'd give you a present she had already prepared (a handmade gift and a letter for you). she also bought a big bouquet of flowers that were meant to be picked up—

two days ago?

the date on her phone made her eyes widen. did she just miss your birthday? she couldn't believe it. surely this was some glitch in the matrix or something!

she realized you weren't home yet, right, you are currently out buying groceries. how much time does she have left to cook you dinner? she didn't care to check the time again, she went to the kitchen to cook a quick yet delicious meal. it was your favorite.

hyun-ju had become a witch running against time, your favorite meal was ready in no time. after plating it, she quickly called a shop to get flowers sent right away, then, she took a break to ease off for a bit.

the handmade gift and letter is in a box under your bed, she knew for sure. after inhaling a glass of water, she grabbed it and put a ribbon as a finishing touch. she was very proud of it.

she waits rather impatiently for the flower to arrive,

and almost in an instant, the doorbell rings.

she ran to open it, only to be met with your beautiful face, holding a bunch of paper bags filled with all kinds of needs.

"hyun-ju, ah, i forgot my keys, see." you gestured to your empty pockets. hyun-ju basically froze in place, "could you please help me with these." you laugh awkwardly, she grabs the paper bags immediately.

she mentally facepalms herself, "oh and. this came by the lobby, said it was for cho hyun-ju, so i grabbed it since i was going up. i figured you were still doing paperwork." you motioned to the bouquet of flowers that was hidden behind the paper bags.

you have to be kidding me.

hyun-ju sighs, "let me bring those bags in for you first." she puts the paper bags on the counter, you close the door with your feet, your arms holding the remaining paper bag and the bouquet of flowers, placing it beside the rest.

"so, um," hyun-ju starts, "that bouquet was actually for you."

you tilt your head in surprise, smiling. "really?"

hyun-ju nods. "see, it was supposed to be delivered two days ago, for your birthday. but gosh- i'm so sorry. i was so busy with work i forgot to pick it up. it's probably starting to wilt as we speak, so i bought a new one and called to get it delivered right away."

before you could respond she continues,

"and i know it is no excuse to forget your own girlfriend's birthday, i had everything planned out, you know. i was going to cook your favorite meal, and then surprise you with the flowers and the gifts i've prepared. but, i don't know what happened. time just flew by and i just realized earlier today," she catches her breath, "but do not fear, i cooked the meal just in time, it's right on the table ready for us. and well, you've seen the flowers so it's no longer a surprise but, there's one more thing."

she quickly runs off to grab the box under the bed before coming back to you in your confused state. "i made this. it's special, just for you."

she hands it to you, the words 'for my one and only :)' written neatly on it, sparkled with glitter and stickers.

"oh, hyun-ju! you shouldn't have," you smile widely.

"i'm really sorry for forgetting, i don't know how i can make up for it," she frowns.

"you know i don't usually do birthdays. this is the most i've ever gotten in my entire life. i'm very grateful for you, hyun-ju."

you give her a kiss, a very sincere one.

"thank you so much, i really mean it."

she smiles, brushing off how her cheeks are turning red. "come on, let's eat, the foods gonna go cold. i made you your favorite."

"my favorite's right here, what do you mean?" you tease, pointing at hyun-ju's now red face.

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glitchgh0sty · 1 day ago

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asking here when it comes to deciding was exactly what soundwave will be; if he was a harpy would you go with the pjo disign for him or the tradishonal version from mytholigy; and if you chose a siren would you go ithe the ones in the sea or the bird ladys that actuly sing the songs that loer in sailers? exuce my bad spell in i was rushing

I cannot even tell you the number of times I’ve tried responding to this ask,, tumblr keeps forgetting my drafts and it’s killing me to death,, 😭💀✨

SoOo, I may be a liiitle indecisive, how about we squish a couple of concepts together why don’t we? 👏✨

Fundamentally,, I consider Soundwave to be a bird siren with just, a couple more feathers, XD,, like if I saw him chilling on a rock, my initial reaction would be “LOOK AT THAT BIRD!?” as opposed to “LOOK AT THAT FISH!?” 🫵🤨

Background wise Soundwave likes to chill next to the water because it’s easier to blame strange trills and noises on ocean echos or waves to passerby’s, then it is to get the kingdom guard off his back if they had found out about his abilities 📻🥷

I’ve never considered Soundwave to be a knight as he was created long after the initial knights fall, and only gained his Siren-like abilities due to a pledge he vowed to simply the belief of their existence,, [mostly to protect his cassettes <33] He unintentionally lost his sight to Primus in exchange for these cybernetic abilities because of this vow, u-u✨

Speaking of “Cybernetic Advancements” 👏òuo,, Soundwaves siren abilities are [mostly] used in self defense so what’ll happen [more often than not,, *evil snicker*] is that he’ll wait for his subject to wander into his territory, and create a frequency that matches their EM field rate and make subtle shifts that the target feels and reacts to,,

Making them stressed / anxious,, meaning that if they don’t leave immediately, then they’re usually just scared enough to run away screaming if he pops out at them 😤✨

And, why the tfp Soundwave design? 👀?

UHhm,, aesthetics?? Just look at him! Those big metal bits on the tfp design are literally begging to be some funky wings and feathers 👏😂

#tf cursed knights au #transformers #tfp soundwave #tfp laserbeak [if you squint hard enough >;] ✨]#I was so exited to get this ask #you’ve got no idea 😭#I was right in the middle of these wips and got the notif-#my immediate reaction was -#*Megatron esc laughter* yeES #with the eyes going in two different directions and everything TuŤ #let’s hope to PRIMUS that this post does not delete itself again 😭#🤞⚔️✨

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ofcrowsanddragons · 1 day ago

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The First Kiss Scene That Didn't Include Any (Much?) Kissing / Rook's Demisexual Love Letter to Lucanis

Thank you for tagging me in WIP Wednesday, @basedonconjecture! Tagging @dustdeepsea, @i-had-bucky, @teyrnacousland, @thebaldursmouthgazette and @deputyrook if you have anything from fic to meta that you'd like to share.

This is a MUCH later snippet of my Rookanis fic, A Working Relationship, which jumps to the point where a young Crow Rook and an undercover "Luca" are in Minrathous and there are FEELINGS.

Thank you to @thedissonantverses for encouraging me as I worked on figuring out the dynamic between these two.

An earlier side fic, But I Won't Do That includes this bit of context:

Lucanis might have his own blindness, but he knew enough to realize that anything he could offer might not be seen as optional by the younger assassin, and the thought terrified him.

If such a thing happened, Viago could slit his throat and Lucanis would prearrange to hide the body.

Here's the first draft of the first kiss/almost kiss scene. The final version might be different, but I need to write another 20-30k words to get there. (Power dynamics, consent issues addressed, no sex).

I leaned in, placing one hand gently against the back of the chaise. I kept my weight on my feet, ready to step back if I was rebuffed. My whole body was tight with anticipation, my mind ready to pull back at the rejection I knew was coming.

Instead, Luca raised his eyes to mine.

I could drown in them, I thought. His eyes had gone dark with want, for all that he looked at me like something wounded.

He held himself rigid, like he was afraid to move. His jaw was slack, peppered with evening stubble across the warm tones of his skin, and his lips were parted just so.

Without thought, drawn to the heat of him, I reached across his other shoulder and braced my hand against the chaise. I boxed him in, tentative, and the fabric of my sleeve just barely brushed his arm.

I let my weight fall onto the chaise, and the inside of my knee brushed against his thigh. It felt like lightning, and I sucked in a breath, desperate to keep my eyes on Luca, to not be distracted by my own reactions.

He was trembling. He squeezed his eyes shut.

Luca raised a hand from where it rested on the side of the chaise. There was a barely visible shake in the fingers as his arm skirted over the velvet cushions and came to hover near my hip, like he was afraid to touch me. Taking it as a sign of his interest, I sighed out my relief even as I kept the toes of one foot on the floor, ready to pull away if he needed me to.

My back leg trembled, and I wanted nothing more than to fall into his lap. The heat from his muscular thigh on the inside of my leg was agony, and I felt weak with it.

I was afraid to touch him, too. I was afraid to push too far.

“Look at me,” I breathed, inches away from his face.

Warm, brown eyes met mine, and I marvelled at the softness of them. At the smooth planes of his face and the mole next to his hairline. At the crease between his brow and the spot next to his nose. At the creases in his bottom lip.

His tongue darted out on reflex, to wet the lips even as he prepared to push me away.

“You don't have to do this,” he said, even as his eyes fell to my lips and he tilted his face to match mine. The fear in his voice was real. “Please tell me you know that.”

The warm breath from his voice was close enough to feel against my lips, and I bit my lower lip without thinking, sweeping my tongue out to soothe the dryness I found there. My mind felt like it was full of the thick, sweet syrup used by a nearby street vendor.

“I don't know if I can stop,” I said, too honest. Not knowing what he wanted, too full of whatever I was feeling to make room for him, I tasted something like failure at the back of my mouth.

He met my eyes, and his fingers finally brushed against my hip. The lightness of it felt like a brand, striking like a viper through my nerves and into my chest. I had to slap down the instinctive rise of my magic to meet it.

I gasped, falling forward another inch as I struggled to keep my eyes on his.

Luca’s eyebrows were furrowed as he kept his touch light on my hip, his other hand clenched in the cushions. All of the tension in his body was held away from me, in his legs and core and his far arm. I didn't know what he was holding back, but I wanted to beg for it. I wanted him to pull me down and fist his hand in my hair like he was holding the cushion and I knew it was too much.

That light touch, urging me closer. I obeyed without a thought.

Luca tilted his head forward and I let my forehead meet his in a gentle touch. It felt like a cool breeze on a summer day, and I sighed into it with relief, closing my eyes.

“Any advantage you want,” he breathed in promise, “It's yours for the asking. I don't want…”

I should stop, I thought, but I was afraid of what would happen if I did. I was afraid that he would look at me afterward like a student who had tried to seduce him for safety, for power, for resources. For a chance to live.

“You've given me everything I've asked for,” I said, tilting back so that my lips almost brushed his. “Can I ask for something else?”

“Anything within my power,” he vowed, breath ghosting across my lips.

I pulled away enough to meet his eyes, feeling an overwhelming wave of my own emotion threatening to spill out of them.

His hand dropped, instantly. His expression was guarded, on the verge of the desperate triumph of being proven right.

“Believe me,” I begged, meeting his desperation with my own. “Believe me when I say that I want you.”

He searched my face, eyes flickering across my features. “Why?”

I finally stopped resisting the urge to touch, and I let my hands grasp at his shoulders. He startled, like it was a shock I would touch him this way.

The wants of my own flesh barely registered. The only thing I needed was this.

“Because you're beautiful,” I said, reaching for the meaning that meant more than his handsome face or his grace in battle. “Because the first day I met you, you started changing out our rations until everyone had something they enjoyed eating, not just me. Because you're kind when you don't have to be—because when the world tells you not to be, you'll be kinder out of spite.”

His lips twitched with a pull at the corner that was barely a smile. “Acting out of spite is hardly a virtue.”

“I don't care,” I said, leaning fully into his space, drawing both feet up so that I was kneeling on either side of his leg, a blasphemous approximation of an Andrastian chant. “Void damn it, Luca, I'm an assassin. You told me yourself that there's no virtue in what we do.”

His expression changed, slackened into something softer. “You make me wonder if it could be different,” he told me, with something like a smile rising up from his eyes.

My heart was pounding in my ears, as fast as a sparrow’s. I fought the urge to run, feeling the unfairness of doing so when I had trapped Luca so thoroughly. I forced myself to meet his eyes, even as the sensations of the man’s warm body beneath my legs and hands rose into the foreground.

I blew out a breath. “I want you. What do you want?”

Something seemed to rise in him at those words, settling over his face and pulling at his restraint, and it thrilled through me like a wave of electricity. He held fast, holding himself back, only bringing his hand back to my hip in a touch so feather light it risked driving me insane.

“I just…” Luca started, and trailed off like he didn't know what he was trying to say. The hand at my hip settled more firmly into the position he'd use to lead me in a dance. “I want—”

He cut himself off with a growl of frustration and brought his free hand to my shoulder. In one smooth movement, he threw me onto my back on the soft, velvet cushions of the chaise. I had to force myself to relax into it, and I let my arms fall, boneless, along the back and over the edge of the couch.

“Is it too much,” said Luca, kneeling between my legs, with one elbow against the back of the chaise gripping my arm, “To want you to feel like you don't have to be afraid?”

“We're dangerous people,” I said gently, tilting my chin to expose my throat. “Maybe I know what that means, and I trust you not to hurt me.”

He rolled off the chaise into a crouch on the floor. I felt the bitter disappointment at the loss of contact, but I stayed on the cushions, following his movement only with my eyes. I was exhausted, aroused, and beyond ready to retreat into my bedroom to cry into the pillows. The points of warmth on my body that Luca had touched tingled with the awareness of the loss of him. I had been expecting a rejection, but I didn't know what this was.

With too much gentleness, Luca reached from where he had settled on the floor, to hold my hand where I had allowed it to drape over the edge.

He met my eyes. “I don't want you to be afraid.”

I pulled his hand up onto the cushion, slow and telegraphed, forcing him to let go or move so that his knees were closer to the base of the chaise. He chose to move forward, and I turned onto my side. He watched carefully as I pressed a kiss to the palm of his hand, next to the meat of his thumb, and then rested my cheek against it like a pillow. I let my eyes fall shut.

His breathing was even and deliberate in the way that we’re trained to be.

I let my mind drift to the solid mountain of my dreams, where my feet were always on the ground and there was always a way forward, no matter what obstacle rose in front of me.

Frowning, still focusing on the way the imaginary light reflected from the harsh alpine trail, I told him, “I don’t know how to stop being afraid. What does it feel like, when you’re not afraid?”

The sound of wet laughter. “I’m not sure I can answer that right now.”

“Maybe,” I said, opening my eyes, “We can find out together?”

Too much hope was riding on the last word, but Luca didn’t pull away. Instead, the smile—maybe the first real, true smile I had ever seen from him—lit up his eyes in a way that took my breath away. I let what was probably a stunned smile play across my face, in turn.

“Maybe so,” he said, voice soft as he shuffled forward so that he could rest his head against mine.

I let my breathing match his, and let the time pass me by, luxuriating in the closeness of another being who I somehow, miraculously, trusted with more than my life.

#wip wednesday #veilguard fic #the almost kiss scene #no not that one #my writing #fic snippets #lucanis dellamorte #lucanis x rook #crow rook #spite dragon age #veilguard #pre game #magpie files #a working relationship #angst and fluff #rookanis #rook x lucanis #antivan crows #antivan crow politics

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waywardangel-wilds · 2 days ago

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I don't know why, but the ask you sent me @mollywog disappeared from my drafts??? Anyway, this is to answer that ask: I wish you would write bromance/friendship Peeta and Gale.

"Oh!" Gale throws his hands over his head. "And that's how it's done!"

Peeta watches on, unimpressed, as he absentmindedly texts his girlfriend back: Sorry gonna be home late. Something wrong with Gale.

Katniss's reply is immediate: 😞

"Are you in or you still too chicken shit?" Gale grins, dropping back into the booth across from him to take a long drink from his beer.

"I'm just a better gambler than you." He replies dryly. He looks back at the dartboard briefly while Finnick shoves his way out over Gale to take his turn.

"He's just chicken shit," Finnick adds in, shoving Gale's head out of the way when he doesn't let him out of the booth immediately.

"Thanks for that," Peeta picks up his beer and takes a drink. He turns back to Gale. "So?"

"What?" the other man replies.

"Why am I here?" he asks exasperatedly. "You know I have a job, right? Those things people do? For money? Yeah, not optional for me."

"Ugh, you're such a killjoy." Gale groans throwing his head back against the seat. He's a little drunk. "I don't know, I just wanna hang out, okay?"

"I'm leaving," Peeta stands and yanks his coat on. He's been here for the better part of the night and he still has no idea why Gale made it seem like he was in the middle of a crisis. He's never answering his texts again.

"Wait!" Gale calls after him with a stressed look to him. "Fine. Sit down."

"Madge," he drums his fingers against the table, "is leaving me."

Peeta blinks at him, shocked. Gale and Madge are high school sweethearts. They were going to get married by the end of the summer. Peeta already bought a suit.

"Oh shit," he sits back down. "Are you okay?"

Gale shrugs and takes another drink, his eyes taking on a troubled look. "I'm fine."

"Do you wanna come back to the house? You and Katniss should prob-"

"I'm not gonna talk to Katniss about this." Gale cuts him off, dropping the bottle back to the table with a thump. "She's on her side."

"There's no sides," Peeta shakes his head.

"There are." Gale rolls his eyes. "Girls side with each other."

"Women," Peeta corrects. Gale glares at him. "Sorry, too easy."

Gale groans, dropping his head to his hand.

"Uh, what happened?" Peeta asks. He's never seen Gale so, openly emotional? "Did you guys have a fight? or-"

"We had a fight." Gale interrupts again. "I'm a work-obsessed maniac who doesn't even want to have kids, I'm just marrying her because it's what we're supposed to do. Apparently."

Peeta raises his eyebrows, "that's rough."

"It isn't true!" Gale insists. "I want to get married. And yeah, I care about my job, but so what? I worked hard to get where I am, what am I supposed to do? Fucking-"

"What's going on?" Finnick asks, having returned to their table with another round of beers.

Peeta shoots him a look meanwhile Gale groans and drops his head to his hands again.

"Madge dumped him," Peeta hisses. Finnick's face pales.

"Oh, fuck, I'm sorry man." Finnick puts the beers down slowly like he's worried they'll explode. "That's-- I'm sorry."

"My ma's gonna kill me," Gale moans miserably.

Peeta smiles involuntarily. "Listen, maybe it's nothing."

"She said she never wanted to see me again!" Gale argues, his eyes like an accusation.

"Yeah but, maybe it was just a fight? You both probably said stuff you didn't mean." Peeta says. "Maybe you both just need to cool off for a bit. Talk it out in the morning."

Gale scoffs, "yeah right."

"No! Come on, we all do it." He looks over at Finnick for some encouragement. Finnick looks at him like he just threw him a hot potato without any prompting. "Right? You and Annie argue all the time, don't you."

Finnick jumps as if physically struck. He looks at Gale's miserable face and blanches. "Uh, yeah. All the time."

"What could you and Annie possibly argue about?" Gale asks derisively.

"Stuff." Finnick shrugs. "You know, whose turn is it to do the laundry, why is Finn saying the f-word so much. Just stuff."

"Wow, tough." Gale rolls his eyes. "Mellark?"

"What?" Peeta looks at Finnick for a lifeline but he just shrugs at him. "Me and Katniss?"

"No, you and your mother. Obviously you and Katniss." Gale bites.

"Um, I don't remember anything specific." He fiddles with the label on his beer. "But yeah, mean stuff sometimes. Like..." he trails off. "Oh right! The other day she called me an idiot."

"Did she actually mean that or was she joking?" Gale asks with disinterest.

Peeta turns sheepish. "Okay, so she didn't mean it, but we really do fight all the time!" He insists. "It's just not that big of a deal! We cool off and move on, which is what you and Madge can do tomorrow."

"Tell me you and Katniss have actually had a real fight in the past year and I'll go." Gale challenges. "I dare you."

Peeta sighs, "Fine." He drums his fingers against the table while Gale's eyes bore into his skull. "We fight about money."

"Money?" Gale asks.

"Oh, that's a tough one." Finnick scratches at his beard. "Annie and I too, before I got the new job. That sucks."

"Yeah," Peeta agrees. "I don't know, we just move on. Katniss doesn't want to feel like she depends on me for anything, but I always tell her that she can, I'm not going anywhere or anything but she's-"

"A pain in the ass?" Gale offers.

"Stubborn,” he corrects. “And independent.”

“That’s married for pain in the ass,” Finnick intercepts.

“Yeah, she can be a pain in the ass,” Peeta admits. “But I love her. So, whatever.” He shrugs. “I just deal with it.”

“Oh, I see.” Gale turns to Finnick. “He just rolls over and takes it.”

“I don’t,” Peeta rolls his eyes.

“I think what Peeta’s trying to say,” Finnick interjects. “Is that sometimes you just gotta deal. Meet in the middle. It’s an argument not a war. At the end of the day you still gotta like each other.”

“I don’t know, I just don’t have the fucking patience, you know?” Gale rubs a hand through his hair. “I just- I get all defensive and… I guess I’d just rather hurt her before she hurts me?”

“That’s really unhealthy,” Finnick says. “Just so you know.”

“If you want to get married you have to stop thinking about her as someone who’s gonna up and leave,” Peeta adds.

“What are you talking about? You’re not even engaged.” Gale snaps.

“Well…” Peeta trails off, playing with the beer label. “I asked.”

“What?” Gale snaps.

“Congratulations!” Finnick exclaims at virtually the same time, slapping Peeta’s shoulder. “That’s huge!”

“She said no,” Gale reads his expression.

“She said she’d ‘think’ about it.” He corrects, still playing with the bottle. “She’s not ready.” He shrugs.

“Oh,” Finnick whispers awkwardly.

“What?” Gale frowns. “That’s stupid. Does she think she can do better? She can be such a fucking idiot-“

“Okay, don’t talk about her like that,” Peeta interrupts. “She’s allowed to say no, okay?”

“And you’re just okay with this?” Gale stares at him like he’s insane.

“We’re not going to break up over it, if that’s what you’re asking.” He snaps. “I knew what I was getting into when I got involved with Katniss Everdeen, alright?”

“Damn,” Gales leans back against the booth.

“So yeah,” Peeta’s voice calms. He lays his hands on the table. “Come on, you can sleep on my couch and call Madge in the morning.”

Finnick puts a hand on his shoulder, “it’ll all work out.” The older man smiles at him.

“Thanks,” Peeta says with some annoyance. He stands. “Gale?”

“Fine,” his friend grumbles, yanking on his coat upside down. “But I don’t wanna deal with your girlfriend, keep her away from me.”

“I’m sure your beloved cousin wants nothing to do with you either,” Peeta replies dryly.

#the hunger games #everlark #thg #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #fanfic #send asks!!#send asks #katniss and peeta

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lady-lostmind · 14 hours ago

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NOT SICK!

Written for @steddiebingo Countdown to Midnight Prompt: Sick Fic

Rating: T | WC: 856 Thank you @oh-stars for betaing!!

Eddie watches as Steve slowly sniffs and coughs his way through his morning routine and stumbles into the kitchen with a groan.

Eddie flashes him a bright smile. “Morning. How’re ya feelin’?”

Steve sniffs loudly, grabbing a mug out of the cabinet. “I’m fine.” His voice comes out all garbled from his stuffy nose.

“You sound sick.” He leans forward with his elbows on the counter, resting his chin on his hands.

Steve rolls his eyes. “I’m not sick.” He promptly sneezes into the crook of his elbow.

Eddie raises his eyebrows pointedly at him.

Steve shakes his head. “I’m not sick! I have to go to work.”

Steve gets close to Eddie, trying to grab the canister full of tea but Eddie grabs his wrist and pulls him in close. Eddie sticks his hand on Steve’s forehead, ignoring his groan of protest. “Sweetheart, you have a fever.”

Steve swats his hand away and grabs the tea. “It’s just hot in here.”

Eddie sighs, letting him go and crossing his arms over his chest. “You can’t go to work like this. You’ll get all the kids sick.”

Steve slumps, leaning on the counter. “It’s the first day back from break. I can’t miss today!”

Eddie leans forward and presses a kiss to Steve’s cheek and puts his hands on Steve’s shoulders. “I know how much you miss the kids. But you’re sick. And they need time to get a sub so you can’t do your denial dance much longer.”

Steve sighs, letting Eddie pull him in for a hug. “I’ll call the school.”

Eddie pats his back and nods. “I think that’s probably a good idea.”

Steve grumbles again and makes his way back upstairs. While he calls the school, Eddie starts gathering supplies to bring up to their room. Box of tissues, bag of cough drops, nyquil, Steve’s abandoned tea, his book from the living room, and his favorite blanket. He sets everything up on Steve’s bedside table just as he comes in, back in his pajamas.

He huffs in annoyance as he climbs back into bed. “You didn’t have to do all that. I can take care of myself.”

Eddie sighs. “I know you can, baby. But let me help.”

Steve yawns, snuggling down into the bed, his face softening when Eddie leans down to kiss his forehead. “Sorry. I just hate being sick.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh. “Really? I never would have guessed.”

He looks up at Eddie with big, pleading eyes. “Do you have to work today?”

Eddie sighs, putting his hands on his hips. “For a little bit. I have that draft due in a few days.”

Steve pouts. “Can you work in here?”

“I don’t want to keep you up, sweetheart.”

Steve shakes his head. “I’ll still nap. I promise.”

Eddie sighs. “How about I cuddle with you until you fall asleep, then I’ll go work in my office?”

Steve nods, flipping the covers over so Eddie can climb beneath them. He scoots in close to Steve, pulling him against his chest. “Go to sleep, baby.”

Eddie is hunched over his laptop a few hours later, so close to finishing a scene he just needs to focus a little long–

“Babe?”

Eddie sighs, quickly finishing the sentence he was in the middle of before making his way down the hall to their room. “You okay, sweetheart?”

Steve shakes his head. “I woke up and you were gone.”

Eddie smirks at him and walks to the edge of the bed and pushes Steve’s hair out of his face, letting his hand linger on his forehead. “You’re still warm. Did you take anything?”

Steve groans and shakes his head. Eddie sighs and huffs out a laugh. “Of course not.”

He grabs the cough syrup off the table and pours it in the little cup, holding it out for Steve.

Steve pouts and looks up at Eddie with big, sad eyes. “I hate that stuff.”

Eddie nods. “I know.” He puts it closer to Steve’s mouth with a pointed look.

Steve sighs but opens his mouth and lets Eddie pour the liquid in as he grimaces and whines about it. Eddie rolls his eyes and sets the cup back on the table. “I’ll go make you some tea.” He leans down and kisses Steve’s temple before turning to leave.

Steve grabs his wrist and Eddie turns back with a smirk. “What, baby?”

Steve looks up with pleading eyes. “Will you put some honey in it?”

Eddie chuckles. “Of course I can, sweetheart.”Steve grins and rubs his thumb over Eddie’s wrist before turning over and snuggling into the pillows. Eddie heads downstairs and to the kitchen. He grabs a mug from the cupboard, Steve’s favorite tea, and– “Shit.” Eddie stares at the empty spot on the shelf where the honey usually sits. “No fucking honey?” Eddie shakes his head and walks out of the kitchen, down the hall to the closet in the entryway to grab his coat and stuff his feet into his shoes. He pauses at the bottom of the stairs and calls up to Steve. “Be right back, baby!”

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie fanfic #lady lostmind #steddiebingo #steddiebingocountdowntomidnight #steddiebingo2025

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gh7stly · 1 day ago

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EPILOGUE — poly 141 x immortal gn!reader

The blood that painted your body itches, you noticed. It irked you, really, so the idea of spending one more hour on the same clothes you had on when you left for this mission was a torture by itself. As the helicopter shook one last time while landing, you immediately started making your way to the community bathroom, ignoring every greetings of other soldiers, previous mission partners and privates in the way. Muppets.

“I thought the military taught basic etiquette, soldier. Been looking forward to making it home?” A voice not so strange called after you, slowly turning around as if scared to scare it away, Kate Laswell enters your vision. “Happy?”

You make a false discontent face. “Last time I saw your face I had 7 less lives in my hand, happiness is not the right feeling…. More like a bad omen?”

“I’m glad You're here and alive, then. You even taken a bath yet? There's subjects to be taken care of and I need you available as soon as possible, and, yes, I'm making the proposal again”, you take notice of how she avoided the responsibility and somehow proved your “bad omen” point, Kate's proposal didn't mean good things to come. “This is not the place to talk about it, Spook, but it is the right time. We need y-”

You bark out a laugh. “Fuck no, Laswell”, patting her on the shoulder, you turn around and start walking. “Coronel is not agreeing, plus, I have no interest in your suicide inhibitions against the US. Give up!”

“Spook. The time is running out. You know why you'd be the most important thin-”

“Thing?”

Laswell makes a disapproving sound from getting interrupted again. Aware of the sudden seriousness of the moment, she grabs your arm to go further into the corridor away from the crowds and recruits.

“You are not a 14 year old girl, Spook. You are a soldier, a soldier responding to one of the biggest special forces in the world, and you have the ability of doing what I could only wish to do”, she stopped walking abruptly and stared down into your soul, this discussion is your least favorite one to have. “You can fuck up. Has this not internalized into you yet? Dead boys are sent to their mamas everyday for a tiny mistake but you have the ability of throwing it all into the air and walking away unharmed, so why not use who you are for the better cause? We need you”

Her words punctuated your gut, your frustrations boiled up deep in your stomach and revealed itself by the shaking in your hands; they've gotten worse recently, you've come to notice. There wasn't much to do about it except put them into fists and dig your nails deep into the palm of your hand until it made you grounded enough to find your voice, stuck in the back of your throat. This subject, this proposal and its implications had enough force to make you crumble easily, Laswell of course knew nothing about it – just that you were stubborn and kept refusing.

“I am here because you asked me to make you useful, because you wanted to help. I know you're a human, Spook, but you're in the military and not a playground. What you want is not what you're getting sometimes, not because you don't matter, but because you are a useful trick we could have up our sleeve. So I'm going to ask you again, are you going to fucking help or not?

Staying in silence, you bit your tongue to stop from getting an insubordination letter. Part of you, the human part you guessed, felt talked down still. Did you ask for this life? Who made you this way? Wanting to help didn't mean killing yourself on purpose on missions, didn't mean getting used by superiors like an unbreakable toy. You're here because you wanted to be a hero, but right now, you're afraid of having more blood on yourself than the villains.

The other part, the freak one as you called, knew that that's exactly what you were. A puppet. From the moment you joined the military, it was better to devoid yourself from feelings, needs, or any basic thought. You liked it, even. Getting pushed to the limits of morality, treated like a piece of a big chess match. A cold air passed through you both until you finally had swallowed enough ego to speak.

“Let me at least change clothes and then you can go through your little plan." That was the closest thing to a yes you could've gotten before puking bile, but it was enough for her.

“Thank you, Spook. 1700 sharp” nodding, you let out a sigh you weren't aware of holding.

“You're a bad omen, Laswell. After today, I hope it'll be a long time until we meet again.” Even with the harsh words, a project of a smile showed in your face. Kate Laswell was probably the closest thing to a mom you'll ever have in your life. “I agree.”

#call of duty x reader #call of duty x female reader #call of duty x gn reader #call of duty x male reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #x male reader #x female reader #x gn reader

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thedreadvampy · 13 hours ago

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Also not on the topic of the genre but is it just me or is Niko just a kind of borderline-racist stereotype? She's a Japanese older-teen girl (age not specified but her actor is 24) initially afflicted by Kawaii Anime Powers who's thereafter characterised as being Adorable, Naive, Liking Anime and uhhhhhhh literally acting like a small child throughout, like she doesn't understand basic social norms, she talks about her parents and about romance like a preteen, and she loves unicorns and sparkles and rainbow hearts uwu.

idk man I'm Not Comfortable With This. I'm white as hell and ymmv but like is it not weird how often Japanese women in American media are portrayed as acting and thinking like Literal Children?

Whatever you call this genre, I actually thought I might be over it entirely when I was trying to watch Dead Boy Detectives?

I had to go back and watch Doom Patrol to remember that yes, I actually do like Doom Patrol's Quirky Genre Savvy, it's just that it's an aesthetic that needs some substance behind it and ironically I found Dead Boy Detectives to be totally devoid of soul.

#red said #i think this is probably another casualty of adapting a property about 13 year olds into a tv show about 18 year olds #like if Niko was 12 this would not jar nearly as much #just like 'pretentious overly formal swot' is a likable archetype for a 12 year old but INSUFFERABLE when played by a 27 year old #like these characters are clearly MEANT to be in their early teens at most. they talk and act like 13 year olds.#but it has to be Adult and Sexy and Cool so they're aged up to 18ish which. just does not work lbr.#also???? Edwin died in 1916 if he was 18 wouldn't he have been worrying about getting drafted????#but yeah even if they hadn't aged it up i think Niko's character would be A Bit Racist

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somepsychopomp · 20 hours ago

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A Fair Contest

So a little bit ago I drafted an idea for an AU where, instead of the golden apple saying 'to the fairest' it says 'to the most amorous king'

And instead of the ladies fighting over the apple, it's Zeus & Poseidon. In order to determine who exactly is the superior lover (and king + who gets bragging rights), the two brothers select one (un)fortunate mortal that both of them shall take to bed...

and the judge they select for their little contest is none other than Odysseus.

(Takes place pre-Trojan War. In fact there's basically no Trojan War to begin with. Also Odysseus is betrothed but not yet married to Penelope)

Consider this chapter 1 of this fic. I really hope I can finish it because I stayed up to almost 4 am writing this, which is amazing because I've been dealing with a major cold and writers block for a while now

Word Count: approx. 4400

There's no smut yet but I do confess to giving Ody a bubble butt. Also in a world where Ruthlessness never happened/is yet to happen... Poseidon has a thing for strong thighs & is absolutely smitten with Odysseus

Also in my head, I'm imagining Neal's character designs but I think I've kept it vague enough for now that you can imagine whatever designs you like

+++

The wedding had been a most splendid sight, with revelry among both men and gods. The small mortal king, Peleus, was of course honored to host such a wide variety of the gods and have them witness his union with the divine Thetis. Zeus gave the couple his own blessing and permitted Dionysus to pour out his strongest wine for the occasion.

Well into the night, the attendees danced to a tireless band and feasted upon the finest foods available. Gods mingled with mortals, some sneaking off with a young maiden or cupbearer for some more illicit fun.

All was going well until the first beam of daylight shone upon a pedestal that no guest noticed before, where a golden apple awaited.

Curious onlookers clustered around it, wondering where it could have come from. The mortals believed the apple to be made of real gold, thinking it was a lavish wedding gift. The gods were equally mystified, knowing that something so perfect and beautiful could only be given by one of their own. Hera pursed her lips at the sight of it.

The king of the gods made his way to the center of the crowd, the other guests parting for him with their eyes averted in deference. He regarded the apple with mild curiosity, having a treasury greater than all of Greece’s wealth upon Olympus. A ribbon was tied neatly to the apple’s stem with a message embroidered upon it.

“To the most amorous king.”

Zeus chuckled at the oddity of this little present and moved to take the apple.

Only for another hand to grab it at the very same moment.

The two gods stared at each other.

“What do you think you’re doing, dear brother?” Zeus asked, the smile falling from his face.

Poseidon rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Taking my prize.”

“You?” Zeus said, his voice dripping with outrage, “You dare defy your king like this?”

Poseidon’s voice turned sharp and cold. “I am lord of the seas! The gift doesn’t say ‘to the king of the skies’, now does it? No, you read it yourself.”

The mortal guests, including King Peleus, began to make their quick exit from the venue. Some of the lesser gods were also making their sneaky escape, fearing the worst was about to come.

Hera approached her husband and wrapped her arms around his own, “Darling, it’s just an apple. If you want one, I’ve got a whole orchard full.”

It was true that Gaea, the very earth itself, gave Hera a grove of enchanted apple trees as her wedding gift. The trees were immune to all illnesses and sprouted fruit of pure gold all year round. In all likelihood, this very apple was stolen from the Queen’s orchard.

The god-king’s most favorite child appeared at his other side in an attempt to soothe his growing rage, “Father, listen to Queen Hera. This is a trick meant to sew discord, nothing more.”

Zeus ignored his daughter Athena as if she weren’t there.

“Let it go, my love.” Hera said, “After all, why have one apple when you could have hundreds?”

Zeus gave her a sharp look, his golden eyes burning with a harsh, radiant glow. The queen of the gods was so taken aback that she shrunk away under the weight of his glare. Zeus said, “I am the god of judgement! No matter how trivial of a token it is, I will not let my brother take what does not rightfully belong to him!”

Poseidon threw his head back and laughed, not one to be daunted, “Oh, is that so? And how will you prove that it doesn’t belong to me, hm?”

He tossed the golden apple into the air, catching it in his other hand. Zeus bared his teeth and snatched Poseidon’s wrist, unwilling to let elder brother even hold the thing.

It was now apparent to all the remaining gods what this was really about.

Neither king would secede when their pride and egos were in jeopardy. For either of them, letting the other take the apple now, after they’ve already started bickering, would mean admitting they were the more feeble lord, a less competent lover. And such a slight against their reputations would never stand.

“Ahem,” a voice said.

A lovely woman with flawless bare skin for all the world to admire, a translucent shawl draped around her arms and roses in her pale tresses, stepped forward.

Zeus barely spared her a glance. “What is it, Aphrodite?”

She smiled, though not without a hint of mischief in her eyes, “I think I have the solution to this little conflict of ours, one that will minimize any substantial damage to our family… or the known world.”

Zeus inclined his head in interest. Poseidon gave the goddess his ear, as well. Zeus let go of his brother and the sea god set the apple down.

Athena bit her lower lip, knowing that Aphrodite’s schemes were almost never more than just that: schemes. Games to amuse herself with. She had something else in mind.

Aphrodite snapped her fingers. A large, circular mirror gilded in silver and gold appeared in the air behind her. The surface rippled the same way a pond did when met with rainfall.

A beautiful young maiden with a long braid of black hair tended to her garden. The image rippled and was replaced with what was clearly a princess being dressed for the day by her servants. Again, the image shifted and showed a handsome young man in a short chiton as he shepherded his flock of sheep.

Aphrodite said, “Now, I’m sure you two could spend eternity bickering back and forth, boasting of your skills and past conquests, but as the goddess of love myself… why not have more of a practical examination?”

The two brothers exchanged a look, coming to the same conclusion.

“You want us to share a lover?” Poseidon asked.

Zeus added, “And have them decide?”

Aphrodite winked and gave them a cheerful smile. “Well, what do you say? There’s no shortage of pretty boys or girls across the land. Come, take your pick!”

Zeus stroked his beard, a few sparks crackling across his fingertips. Poseidon crossed his arms in contemplation.

“Father, Uncle!” Athena said, trying to catch their attention, “This is madness, can you not see?”

But neither god answered her. Athena was in disbelief.

All this over a golden apple that neither needed or really wanted. This was all about their reputations as accomplished lovers, which they shouldn’t even have considering they were both married men.

And Aphrodite, it was clear she was only doing this to make a story out of it, the way she and her son Eros loved to couple mortals together, only to break them apart. No doubt some terrible fate will befall the chosen victim, no matter who they named the superior lover.

In Athena’s mind, she could only imagine the loser of this game casting some bitter curse upon the poor mortal as revenge. But that was the fun of it for some gods, to see the doomed fate of some poor soul after getting mixed up with the divine.

Behind Zeus’ back, Hera threw her hands into the air before storming off, summoning her chariot pulled by winged horses to return her to Olympus.

Athena threw a disappointed look at Aphrodite before leaving as well, deciding to go where her counsel would be appreciated.

+++

By mid-morning, Odysseus’ back and brow were already covered in sweat as he endeavored to finish the roof over his wedding bed before an unfortunate rain could sully his hard work below.

The house he was raised in was perfectly fine, but with all the servants and guards on top of his family, it was not the largest of castles. It was also an old thing in constant need of repairs. Odysseus always envisioned a proper palace atop Ithaca’s mountains, one where his own family could grow large and have plenty of space to themselves.

So, before the eve of his wedding, he endeavored to complete the house of his dreams for his new wife to enjoy. He started with their olive tree, a living symbol of his devotion to his betrothed. Odysseus labored day and night to carve part of it into one of the four posts for his wedding bed, taking extreme caution to not cut away so much that the tree would die.

The largest bough of the olive tree would overlook one of their windows, with a perfect view of the vast ocean beyond it. Odysseus already carved the other three bed posts and constructed the frame, but there was always more work to do. As the common larborers constructed the foundation and walls for the other rooms in the palace, Odysseus went to work constructing the roof for his bedroom.

With a sizable living tree in such close proximity to his quarters, he trusted no one but himself to complete the project without damaging it.

Taking up hammer and nails, hauling wood and stone, and fitting everything into place almost entirely on his own was unusual for a king. Odysseus knew this, but the labor brought him joy like no other. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, imagining opening the door for the very first time as a married man. He would carry Penelope to their wedding bed, built entirely by his hand, and spend the rest of his life with her.

Focus, he told himself.

For now, Penelope still dwelled in her natal homeland of Sparta. As soon as her new home was completed, she would set sail for Ithaca.

Odysseus wiped the sweat from his brow as the sun beat its rays upon his back. Maybe it was foolish to fear the coming rainfall, but he could see the grayish clouds on the horizon.

By midday, he was hopeful he could have the roof finished by nightfall. As Odysseus dropped from one of the wooden rafters into his nearly-complete bedroom, his tunic must have caught on a nail or perhaps a large splinter. He heard the sharp tearing of fabric and grumbled at the gash across his front. One of the room’s alcoves had some of his clothes, since he didn’t have time yet to build the chests or wardrobe.

Thinking better of a tunic, Odysseus merely replaced it with a rectangular length of cloth fastened at the waist. It was something his mother wove, a lovely shade of blue to match the sea, embroidered with red and white thread.

From somewhere nearby, he heard the familiar clicking of an owl’s beak coming to greet him. He smiled and turned around, draping his tunic over his arm as his mentor approached him in the form of a brown and white speckled owl. She sank her talons into his arm and flapped her wings as if in outrage.

He let her perch on the alcove’s lip as he fasted a leather pauldron to his left shoulder. She hopped back on and Odysseus could feel her talons clench and unclench even through the tough leather.

“What troubles you, Athena?” Odysseus asked.

He set out through the bedroom’s heavy oak doors, finding himself in a long hallway that was finished, but not yet furnished or cleaned.

She spoke into his mind, Sometimes, I wish I could belong to any other family but my own.

Odysseus chuckled. “I’m sorry to hear.”

While he loved his parents and sister dearly, he knew that Athena often butted heads with her siblings and uncle.

Odysseus counted the windows that still needed shutters and curtains, along with the patches in the roof that had yet to be filled in. Farther along, the great hall where they would entertain guests was still only a skeleton. Only half of the supporting beams and columns were installed and the whole place reeked of sweating men.

Athena paid the laborers no mind as the citizens of Ithaca bowed for their king as he walked by.

You know I’m not one for gossip, but I fear something terrible is about to strike the land.

“Is that so?” Odysseus asked, his smile dropping.

Yes, a terrible tragedy yet to come in the form of my Uncle Poseidon and my father.

A servant approached Odysseus with a serving platter. He took a cup of water and drank deeply, and snatched a small bowl of olives before going on his way.

“They’re angry with us?” Odysseus asked, fearing what this might mean for his people.

No, Athena said, accepting an olive and biting into the tender flesh with her sharp beak, Not quite, but their egos are yet again showing themselves. If you find unusual weather patterns in the next few days, pay them no mind.

“Ah, I see.”

In truth, he didn’t understand Athena at all. But she seemed in the mood to vent about her personal feelings and seeing as she didn’t do so often, Odysseus was careful to listen.

Athena clacked her beak in irritation. Odysseus bit into his own olive as he felt a sharp nibble on his ear before she started combing through his damp hair. She must’ve found something in his hair, a bit of dust or a wood chip, because he could feel her tugging at him.

How goes construction on the new palace?

“Every day, I can see the way it’s growing.”

Odysseus passed by a group of men sitting in a loose circle, taking swigs from a water skin as they fanned themselves. One caught sight of Odysseus and they all scrambled to their feet.

Odysseus held out a hand to put them at ease, “Catch your breath if you must. A tired man is more prone to making mistakes, and I will not have any in my new house.”

The men all sighed in relief and went back to their break, waving goodbye as he continued onward. Athena cooed to show her approval in his decision. He thought her mood was improving, but not a moment later, she said, I just can’t believe them sometimes.

“Oh?”

Odysseus thought Athena said her piece already. She clicked his beak right in his ear.

You would think that the god of law and order would have some sense in his head. But no! Apparently my mother Metis still possesses it. If only Father would listen to her, if not me.

Odysseus said nothing, having never heard Athena speak like this before, especially about her father. He thought it best to remain silent; perhaps Athena could complain about Zeus without punishment, but he knew far better.

Athena clicked her beak with a different sense of urgency and Odysseus gave her another olive. She held it in one foot while balancing on the other, dropping the pit when she was finished devouring the flesh.

“You seem awfully worked up,” Odysseus said, “Anything I can do to lift your burdens?”

Athena shook her head. No, I’m afraid this is something that no one man can solve, as frustrating as it might sound.

He crossed the central courtyard and approached the war room, one of the few nearly-complete parts of the palace, where his chief architects and advisors were waiting to update him on their progress.

Though Odysseus was primarily trained in the art of war, he was also well-versed in song and poetry, history, oratory, and arithmetic, all courtesy of Athena. He wasn’t an expert in architecture yet, but he had his own hand in designing the layout of the palace.

“Good day, my friends.” Odysseus said, parting the curtains that served as a makeshift door until the palace was fitted with proper ones.

One of his elder advisors squinted at Athena upon his shoulder. “My liege?”

Before they could go over any potential issues in the construction or their budgetary concerns, Odysseus wandered over to the window and let Athena take off. She disappeared through the trees, though he knew he’d see her again soon.

+++

Despite the fact the sun was about to set and the two godly kings had been bickering all day long, Aphrodite hadn’t lost her patience yet. In fact, she was even reveling in her task at hand.

They moved their business to her abode on Olympus, where her many mirrors were put to good use. Zeus and Poseidon scoured the lands for a suitable judge to measure their sexual prowess, each of them interested in different aspects of what made up a potential lover.

Zeus was pleased with just about any pretty face that breathed, but Poseidon was a bit pickier with appearances. He didn’t want his maidens or young men to be too skinny, and he seemed to have a preference for those with strong legs. Aphrodite could certainly work within those bounds.

At the same time, Poseidon was more open to sharing a lover with some previous sexual experience, thinking it’d make the whole process easier. Zeus wrinkled his nose at the idea and insisted he wanted someone “new”, not wanting to muck about after some vastly lesser mortal man had his way with their chosen judge.

Aphrodite agreed that was a good point, so instead of letting the two kings squabble, she put her talents as a matchmaker to good use. After a brief consultation, she put together a list of minimum requirements that satisfied both gods.

One, their shared lover had to be attractive, preferably with appealing legs.

Two, they had to be virginal.

Three, they all agreed that the mortal should come from high standards, so some form of royalty. They could be a princess or a prince, or even someone lesser than that, but anyone of a noble bloodline would be preferable to a random maiden. Of course, both kings had their fair share of peasant-girl chasing, but for such an important competition, Aphrodite understood their concerns well.

And lastly, the judge should be someone intelligent. Someone who wouldn’t buckle under the pressure of their assigned task and would be able to use not just their body, but logic to determine the true and indisputable winner.

No doubt each god had their plans to bribe the judge, but who wouldn’t?

If it was Aphrodite competing for the apple, she wouldn’t hesitate to pull out a few tricks of her own. An idiot might be easy to bribe, but that also meant they’d be easy for the competition to bribe as well. To each of the male gods, an intelligent lover would certainly be able to recognize a superior bribe.

“Sadly, your stipulations exclude Helen of Sparta,” Aphrodite said, waving away the image of Helen in her largest mirror, “She’s had children by now, though she’s still quite lovely.”

Poseidon made a noncommittal sound, as if he might reconsider, but Zeus urged Aphrodite to move onto the next candidate with a flick of his wrist. The two of them sat before her best mirror, looking almost comical in her rose-colored, dove-ingrained armchairs.

They went through a few more potential candidates, including Penelope of Sparta and Ctimene of Ithaca. Neither god was very impressed by her choices, but just as Aphrodite was about to move onto the next candidate, Poseidon held out a hand.

“Wait a moment,” he said, his eyes narrowing, “Who is that in the back?”

“Oh?” Aphrodite asked. She returned to the image of Ctimene. She was bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun, her veil fluttering in her wake as her handmaidens walked with her. They seemed to be exiting some great ruin, but on closer inspection, the gods could see men at work. They were building a great palace, it seemed.

Well, great by the standards of mortals.

Behind Ctimene, a bare-chested young man held out a hand and seemed to be directing a group of others. Aphrodite’s mirror rippled and showed them the young man in greater detail, leaving young Ctimene out entirely.

“Oh,” Zeus said.

Aphrodite concealed her eager smile, more thrilled than ever at this sudden twist. She examined the young man’s features, including the sharp angles of his nose, his dense locks of dark brown hair, and his high cheekbones. He bore a striking resemblance to Ctimene. As the goddess of love, there were a few other details Aphrodite could parse out just by looking at him, but she would conceal her thoughts for now.

She said, “Why, that would be none other than King Odysseus of Ithaca!”

Though the young ruler was about the same height as his sister, he was no slight-of-frame weakling. His broad shoulders complimented his strong chest and arms, certainly the build of a warrior. His stomach was a flat plain and below his garments, well muscled thighs teased them almost playfully.

A pale scar ran along the inside of one of his thighs, but it only added to his character. Though Poseidon maintained his interest, Zeus scoffed.

“King, you say?” Zeus nudged his brother, “You know what that means.”

Poseidon was still appraising Odysseus’ thighs, “Plenty of whores in and out of his bed?”

“Actually!” Aphrodite said, clapping her hands, “You’ll be beyond pleased to know that young Odysseus here… is virginal.”

Now that had both gods’ attention. The King of the Gods seemed incredulous.

“How old is he?” Zeus asked.

“Twenty years, my dearest king.”

“And he’s still a virgin?” Poseidon asked, his eyebrows flying up in surprise. “Why? Is he stupid?”

Aphrodite giggled behind her hand, “He’s determined to save himself for marriage, like a maiden! But it can’t be helped. I do believe he’s Athena’s pupil, after all. And I’m sure she holds him to what she perceives as a high standard.”

Aphrodite rolled her eyes, “Whatever the case may be, he’s remained celibate thus far. Perfectly ripe and ready to be plucked, if you would.”

The gods of the sea and sky shared a look.

Zeus said, “Show us more.”

Aphrodite was more than happy to do exactly that. She waved her hand and the stationary image of Odysseus began to move. There was no sound to accompany the vision, but all three of them remained silent as they watched Odysseus work.

He carried multiple rucksacks full of supplies up the spiral staircases of his house while other laborers stopped to eat their dinner. He seemed more than intent to get somewhere, not stopping until he came across a large bedroom with the roof still letting in sunlight in a few patches. Interestingly, while the bed was large and well made, it lacked a mattress or rug thrown over the rungs. Perhaps that would come later.

Odysseus hopped out the window, seemingly ignorant to the fact there was a steep drop right below him, as he grabbed hold of a tree bough and climbed into the roof. It looked like he was intent on using every last bit of sunlight to his advantage as he finished laying out the clay shingles.

The sweat across his body glistened like stardust as the sky above him glowed with the most beautiful shades of red and gold. He put his strong body to use by covering the few bare patches of his rooftop, stopping only to retrieve a shallow clay bowl from his pack, filling it with oil and floating a wick on top before igniting his lamp to give him a bit more light.

Zeus snapped his fingers. In an instant, Hermes was fluttering at his side.

“Yes, Father?”

Without taking his eyes off of Odysseus, Zeus said, “Contact Helios. Tell him to wait a while longer before dusk arrives.”

Hermes spared Odysseus a brief glance before nodding and flying off. Though the mortal didn’t seem to notice, the sun did indeed stop setting.

Odysseus set down his hammer to dab his sweat-soaked face with a rag. He was tiring now, but intent on finishing his job if the determined look in his eyes was any indication.

Poseidon held up one hand and curled a finger toward himself.

The hammer that Odysseus just set down began sliding toward the edge of the roof.

“Brother…” Zeus warned.

Poseidon said, “Trust me.”

Odysseus snatched the hammer before it could fall, but found himself quite close to the edge now.

Poseidon cupped his hands around his mouth and blew softly. A wind coming off Ithaca’s coast kicked up, carrying the salty scent of the ocean with it. As Odysseus stood with his hammer, he raised his other hand to shield his eyes from the sudden gust of wind that ruffled his hair and clothing.

Aphrodite’s eyes widened, instantly recognizing the game Poseidon was playing. She added her own flare as well, using just the slightest twirl of her finger to undo the belt holding young Odysseus’ garments in place.

The poor young king seemed baffled by his sudden misfortune, moving swiftly to capture his garment before the wind could steal it away. Aphrodite froze the image without being told to do so, but she was quite proud of her timing.

Odysseus stood in all his mortal splendor, revealing his tan skin scarred by past adventures. He was healthy, with the body of an athlete and his arm outstretched to better display the toned muscles under his skin.

“What a surprise!” Aphrodite said with mirth, tracing her finger along the surface of the mirror, “Look at his little dimples!”

Indeed, a twin set of dimples rested over his lower back, no longer concealed by his clothing. But that was not all. Some men were cursed to be rather flat in their rear, leaving them looking awkward or incomplete at times, but Aphrodite was equally pleased that Odysseus had something worth looking at below his dimples. In addition to the well-defined muscles in his shoulders and back, he sported the most grabbable bottom.

If Odysseus was not doomed to be the plaything between kings, Aphrodite might have been tempted to take him for herself.

She held out her hands as if Odysseus was nothing more than an exotic animal on display. Poseidon was leaning forward in his chair, his head tilted with interest. Zeus, too, seemed sold at last. His golden eyes sparkled more brightly than usual as he traced over the little king’s backside. He ran his tongue over his teeth.

Aphrodite smiled, “So, my dears… what do you say? Is Odysseus of Ithaca to be your judge?”

#epic the musical #epic odysseus #odysseus of ithaca #zeus epic #epic poseidon #poseidon x odysseus #zeus x odysseus #Odysseus: haha I'm in danger #also instead of Penelope unraveling the shroud...#it's Ody tearing apart his palace to delay his wedding until he can trick the gods into leaving him alone

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