#I can never spell her name right hope that’s the right tag

[elys1ium]

Ace attorney girls my beloveds

[neverendingford]

.

[crazyinluvfix]

DON’T NEED SAVING - a klaus mikaelson oneshot

summary: when klaus brings his girlfriend to meet his family for the first time they don’t exactly welcome her with open arms. namely, rebekah. but as soon as she takes a dagger to her pride she gets ANGRY, and it makes klaus love her even more.

WARNINGS: swearing, depictions of anger / fighting, physical violence ( not domestic )

request: @ranisingsnew

3.7k words

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Klaus swore he would never let his power be dampened by something as frivolous as love - that he’d never be with a woman for more than a fling. He was too good for it. Too strong. Especially to fall for a human.

That was until he met Y/n.

One of his worldly escapades had led him to a place with architecture so beautiful, life so pure, and a certain spark so bold it could capture even him in its wonder.

All of this held his attention so tightly that he didn't even notice what was right in front of him until he hit it. Literally.

His typically sly, dark blue eyes seemed to flash a shade lighter for just a second when he looked up, growing wide at the sight before him. Something even more exquisite and awestriking than the scenery - something he never thought possible. Her.

She looked at him expectantly with an arched eyebrow as his brain practically short-circuited at the smell of the sweet blood beneath her veins.

“I-” he paused. “Sorry, love. Forgive me, I was in my own world,” his stare piercing, gaining back his usual strength after that brief moment of weakness, his signature smirk at home on his lips.

But his face practically dropped in surprise as her’s stayed just as it was; unmoving, unyielding, unimpressed, with arms crossed over her chest as she eyed him up and down.

Klaus felt unusually insufficient under her cold gaze, one that could rival his. He took a step forward, shaking out his shoulders to regain the intimidating presence he was so known for, folding his arms back at her.

“You’re not in a rush, are you?”

The look she gave was incredulous. “That depends, why are you asking?”

This one was feisty, he liked that, he liked a challenge.

His tongue swiped over his teeth with a slight chuckle before speaking again, the lilt in his voice that he used to woo any woman when he wanted to watch them crumble. “I’m new in town, I was hoping you could show me around,” he moved closer, “I’d love to get to know… the place.” A ring-clad hand reached forward to brush a strand of hair from her face.

But she got there before he could.

Her silence was deafening as she mulled the offer over. It wasn’t often that a woman could resist his charms for so long.

“If you’re so desperate to be in my company then fine. You can tag along but I’m not gonna be your little tour guide.”

The stark contrast between her sweet appearance and her fierce attitude was beyond alluring.

Klaus was willing to take anything he could get, feeling more like a lost puppy than he had in over 1000 years, and he was on her leash.

For days he managed to seek her out, every chance he got.

It was a means to an end, the usual end. At least, that’s what he told himself

But the less she fell victim to his charms, the more he was weirdly captured by hers.

Compulsion didn’t seem to work either - did she really make him so weak that he couldn’t perform such a basic function?

Instead, when she got defensive to his advances, it was like she put a spell on him of her own. She wasn’t a witch, but her mind games felt more powerful than any that he had met.

“What do you say we go and get a little drink, huh?” he leaned forward and looked into her eyes, waiting for her pupils to dilate so he could have her right where he wanted her.

“What are you doing?”

Klaus was abruptly taken aback, blinking rapidly as he let out a confused, breathy chuckle. “What do you mean? I’m not doing anything, love,” his eyes never left hers.

“No, that thing with your eyes,” she nodded, dead set on what she saw.

His only instinct was to try again, “You didn’t see anything.”

“There!” she caught it once more, causing him to take a step back; it was safe to say he was completely and utterly perplexed.

“You just did it again! What was that?”

Her eyes seemed to control him instead and he almost stuttered - he never stuttered.

This woman had him - the most powerful man on the planet - wrapped around her tiny little mortal finger.

~

She and Klaus had been dating for a few months now. After weeks of his constant flowers, letters, paintings, and smooth talk she finally gave in. He couldn’t help but think she only accepted his efforts because she had wanted a break from trying to resist them, and this is what she thought at first too; that she’d let him win for a little while, maybe a couple of weeks, and then break it off.

But as the months passed, she too fell head over heels for him. Over this short time he had already revealed everything to her about his supernatural world, he trusted her with his life and knew that she wouldn’t say a word. Klaus hadn’t thought his attraction to her could get any stronger, but he was now the most whipped he had ever been. She was more than his usual affair or snack. She was his soulmate, he was sure of it.

But Klaus was a family man through and through, and he felt as if it was finally time for them to meet the love of his immortal life.

~

“I will never let anything happen to you, you know that, right?” Klaus turned to look at his beautiful girlfriend who sat calmly in the passenger seat of his car - he seemed more nervous than she did.

I simply rolled my eyes and laughed, he was so protective it almost hurt. “I know, Nik. You’ve told me about a thousand times already.”

He just smiled. “I have. But I just wanted to warn you that they’re not always the most friendly bunch - obviously that skipped me.” He tried to end on a quip to ease my mind, something he wouldn’t have thought to do for anyone else.

His family had a very complicated history, and a lot of it revolved around him, so their feelings toward him fluctuated on the daily. It was a fact that he was the strongest; and even though he wasn’t the oldest he was by far the boss of the Mikaelson group. So if any one of them put even one bad word on my name he was more than ready to tear them apart.

I had heard all about the family drama - Klaus was undoubtedly one to gossip - but I knew I could handle anything they threw at me on my own, even if it was from an original vampire.

~

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Klaus turned the key to the ornate wooden doors, swinging them open with his usual dramatics as he took my hand and led me inside.

My jaw immediately dropped. ‘Humble,’ definitely didn’t do it justice.

I had expected it to be nice, but this house was beyond lavish, stunning, massive - not the dark cave many would expect from a bunch of ancient vampires.

Klaus had obviously noticed the look of awe sweep my face because he laughed, that low chuckle he always did that set my heart on fire.

Subtleties in his eyes told me that he was glad I liked it so much. I had heard from many that they found my boyfriend incredibly hard to read, which was actually quite a shock to me because I had pried open the windows to his soul the very moment I met him.

He never freed my hand from his he led us into the main room. “Where are they?” he scanned the area and listened for footsteps upstairs since they did know we were coming.

“Kol! Elijah! Rebekah! Come down!” he shouted throughout the grand house and made me giggle. He really was the leader of the family.

A variety of shouts called back before three figures sped down to the bottom floor.

Two men and one woman. One of the men wore more casual clothes, a jacket over a button-up shirt and some jeans - much like how Klaus typically dressed - while the other wore a full suit at 4 pm on a Tuesday. They both practically scowled at the sight of me, but the blonde girl was the worst. I couldn’t tell if that was how her face fell or if she was purposefully staring daggers through me as if to telepathically wound me with her attitude - she looked like a blast…

Klaus then stepped forward, bringing me with him, a happy grin on his face, “Brothers, Rebekah, this is my wonderful Y/n.” His hand gestured towards me with a softness none of them had seen before, not that they cared.

I noticed how they all seemed to size me up. They were silent, but their mannerisms spoke louder than their words ever could’ve. The vibe that was given off immediately was that I was being judged.

Nevertheless, I chose to be polite, to be the bigger person - you’d think for people who had been alive so long they would’ve had the time to learn manners. “Nice to meet you all,” I offered a warm smile that none of them returned. Tough crowd.

Soon, the awkward introductions were over and we all went to sit in the living room. As we walked over Klaus leaned in close to my ear and whispered, “They’re always a bit cranky around this time,” smirking as he knew that they were vampires and would most definitely hear him. I could not help but let out a small laugh.

Klaus, of course, made sure I sat as close to him as physically possible when we got to the couch, his arm around my shoulder as everyone else sat on the other chairs around the room.

The conversation started light; ‘What do you do for work,’ ‘Where are you from,’ etc.

Meanwhile, the blonde who I now know to be Rebekah had not spoken a word, that was until she shouted out in the middle of my answer to one of Elijah’s questions.

“So, what do you want with him?” she referred to her brother and I could practically feel him roll his eyes behind me.

“Is it his money? Or is it that you want to become like us?” she assumed, the thought making her laugh out loud.

I felt Klaus’ hand tighten around mine and the way his chest rose when he took a deep breath in, “Rebekah.” His tone was strict, warning.

“Shh,” I ran my fingertips over his knuckles, quickly looking back to tell him it was okay before turning back to Rebekah.

“Neither, believe it or not,” my smile was sweet, but also slightly condescending. “I’m with him because we love each other, is that so hard to believe?” I made sure to keep my words friendly, even though I could not help the undertones of my annoyance at her insolence slip through.

“Hm,” she hummed shortly, practically looking down her nose at me from across the room. “It is, actually. Nik has never been one for love, right brothers?” she gestured to the two men for them to back her up, but it seemed like they knew to say nothing.

The scoff that left my lips was very much involuntary, but it seemed to add to her frustration which I admittedly took some pride in. “Hm,” I mimicked her sound, “that’s funny because he seems to love me an awful lot, at first I thought too much,” I giggled and the man in question did too, an effort to keep the tension light while subtly trying to keep her in her place. Which didn’t work.

“Interesting,” she didn’t sound like she cared in the slightest, giving up on making conversation with me and directing her next question to her brother. “It just shocks me, Nik, that you would go for her when you could have any woman in the world. I never thought you’d choose such an… average human.”

Klaus was practically seething, the more she spoke the tenser he got and the closer he approached to his tipping point.

“I mean,” she continued, clearly incredibly amused at both of our reactions, “why don’t you just dump her now and we could all just have a little snack? That’s what your plan is anyway, right? Dinner’s on you tonight.”

My hand stayed firmly on his leg to stop him from getting up, telling him softly that it was okay and that I had got this - I didn’t need saving, not from her.

“Where did you even find this chick?” Rebekah let out a shrill laugh but was quickly taken aback when she saw someone stand up in anger.

And it wasn’t Klaus.

It was an instinct to shoot up, and when Nik brought his hand to mine to get me to sit down I removed it and laughed back at her myself. “You know, you have some serious audacity, Rebekah,” I spat out her name as everyone watched on in suspense, waiting for the incoming catfight.

Her jaw dropped in disbelief, a choked sound coming leaving her throat before she returned, “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh,” I chuckled darkly, “I’m serious alright. You have no right to say anything about my relationship just because you obviously can’t get someone of your own. He’s your brother, you’re not his little lap dog. So hop off my dick little vamp girl and go find someone else’s to ride.”

The longer I sat there and listened to her kick-off, the more strength bubbled up inside of me ready to burst. Now that it was out I felt even better, especially when I saw her expression; eyes wide, mouth open, too stunned to get out more than a few intelligible stutters. Shocked that some ‘average human girl’ could fire back so strongly.

Meanwhile, as I spoke Klaus was watching over, but the smirk on his face was nothing but a proud one. He had to bite his tongue to stop himself from laughing at how amazing this was - she usually carried such a sweet disposition, but the fieriness he was seeing now was definitely something he could get used to. He had always been a sucker for confrontation and riling his family up, and the fact that she could add to that made him love her even more.

“You little-” Rebekah spat furiously, slowly going to stand up herself.

I cut her off. “What? What else could you possibly have to say?” I looked at her expectantly, putting my hands on my hips, but she said nothing. “That’s what I thought. Now I see why Nik put you in a box for a hundred years. It’s been what? Fifteen minutes and you’ve already questioned my love, my loyalty, and shouted out death threats. You may be immortal, Rebekah, but you need to learn that that doesn’t make you a God.”

Every word I came back at her with only strengthened the grin on Klaus’ face - he loved his siblings in his own way, but nothing made him happier than seeing his girl stand up for herself and put them in their place. A few times he had to stop himself from getting up and intervening, but he couldn’t. He would’ve stepped in if he could tell this was taking a toll, but deep down he had always known that I was just like him, we were both just having too much fun.

Rebekah looked utterly defeated, clearly not used to having someone push back at her snarky comments so this was seemingly long overdue. So much so that I even earned a smirk and a look of newfound respect from the brother in formal wear, Elijah.

But that’s when blondie had finally had enough.

Within less than a split second, she sped over and grabbed me by the throat, pinning me to the wall at the back of the room and squeezing so my air supply was restricted, my feet dangling just above the floor.

“You dare speak to me like that, you filthy little…” she hissed, bringing her face close to mine and watching maliciously as my eyes grew wider.

But if I thought she moved fast, Klaus travelled at twice her speed in the blink of an eye, rushing to my rescue. His hands made quick work of prying her off of me and shoving her to the wall instead, reaching down to the back of his shoe where his trousers were baggy enough to conceal - and he pulled out a shiny, silver dagger.

I could do nothing but stand there stock still while the scene played out in front of me, the other brothers shooting up too but doing the same as me.

“Don’t you ever speak to her like that again,” his voice was low, yet scarily loud, but that’s not what seemed to panic Rebekah. No, she was focused on the dagger he held against her sternum, the point brushing against her top.

‘You take a dagger to her pride, I take a dagger to your heart.’ Klaus’ mind whirred with anger.

Just as she opened her mouth to plea for her brother's forgiveness or offer some half-assed apology which she would prove false the moment he let her go, he plunged the dagger into her chest. She let out a high-pitched wince as his eyes still burned into hers with pure loathing.

“Now, say you’re sorry,” he snarled darkly - so this was the Klaus I had heard about. Cruel, righteous, formidable. And the worst part; I wasn’t even scared. I may have gasped at the suddenness of his actions, but I could not help the feeling that arose within me when I saw him choose me over his own flesh and blood without so much as a second thought.

She choked on her own words, “I- I’m sorry.” Her eyes never left his.

His hand moved to twist the knife, releasing another squeak from the victim of his wrath. He spoke firmly and finally, as if this was her last warning, “To her.”

That’s when she finally turned her head to face me, “I’m sorry… Y/n.” It looked like it killed her to force out those words, but it was better than being killed again with the dagger that was hairs away from causing her to be put in a coffin for another century.

As soon as Klaus felt she had been sincere enough he ripped the blade out, his face still serious as he wiped the blood off on the fabric of his jacket. “Go,” he said plainly, not even wasting his energy on looking up from his hands. All three of them listened - I assumed that upon his revelation of the dagger (which none of them knew he had so close), they now were thinking only of themselves, fleeing the scene before they met their fates again.

They all vanished in one quick woosh leaving only me and Klaus who had shifted back into my sickeningly sweet Nik once more upon their departure.

I hadn’t even noticed that I had been clutching my chest this whole time, only taking it off when he moved his gaze to me and that wicked look in his eyes softened instantaneously into one that made me feel right at home, hurrying to me to make sure I was okay.

Without having time to even register everything that just happened I was encased in the arms of my saviour, him resting his head on top of mine while a hand moved up to gently stroke my hair. To anyone else, thinking of him acting in such a caring manner after being so ruthless would’ve been unimaginable. But to me? It was all I’d ever known.

“Shh. You’re okay, love,” he cooed before pulling back slightly and cradling my head in both his hands, bringing his soft lips to plant a tender kiss on my forehead.

I looked up at him like he was the only thing in the world; the way he had looked at me every time since the day we met.

“I’m sorry that I exposed you to that part of me, it was something I had hoped you’d never see.” Apologies didn’t come naturally to Klaus… that was, to everyone but me.

Nothing was said, I let my actions speak for themselves as a genuine smile formed on my face and I hopped up onto my tiptoes to kiss him fervently. He seemed rather shocked at the sudden change in tone, but it’s not like he was complaining. Instead, he happily reciprocated my movements, a mischievous, goofy grin left on him in the wake of my lips as I pulled back.

“Don’t apologise,” I shook my head at him in reassurance, “I thought it was sexy,” biting my lip in a teasing manner as I put his racing mind at rest - he truly was such a sweetie behind closed doors. It was honestly a shame the world would never see him the way I did - but then again, that would mean I would have to share him, so maybe it was a blessing in disguise.

His bright blue eyes lit up as I spoke, in a way as if to ask ‘Really?’

In response to his silent appeal for confirmation, I nodded.

“At least you’ve met them now so you finally know what I mean when I complain about my family,” he used a tone much lighter than before now that he wasn’t shouting or apologising.

A laugh escaped me, causing me to quickly cover my mouth, “I guess you weren’t joking, huh?”

Sighing in reply he shook his head in embarrassment, thinking he should’ve never taken me here in the first place. “Come, let’s go somewhere else, somewhere nicer.” His head cocked to the side as he held out an arm for me to cling to, signalling for us both to leave.

My hand graciously slipped forward to meet his request as we walked toward the door, looking up at him one last time. “You’re my hero, Klaus Mikaelson.”

Upon hearing the giggle I let out after my words his smile only widened. “Always and forever, my love.”

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requests in bio x

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[lowkeyhollland]

it'll be a wednesday

peter parker x reader "it'll be a wednesday & i'll be going into this coffee shop" can u tell i have a coffee addiction

Peter groaned when he accidentally spilled an iced coffee behind the counter. He grabbed paper towels to clean up the majority of the beverage on the floor before grabbing a mop to clean up the rest of the area. The bell above the door rang and Peter mentally sighed. His morning wasn’t off to the best start; a spilled coffee, ten minutes late to his shift, and now it felt like a morning rush. 

“Hi, welcome in,” his voice trailed off once his eyes landed on you. You smiled acknowledging him before reading their menu. 

He patiently waited by the register for when you were ready but couldn’t help but stare; at how your head was slightly tilted to the side causing your hair to fall over your shoulders, messing with the case on your phone, popping it in and out of its place. Peter ignored the other customers who had walked in shortly after you, taking their orders on autopilot. He watched as your eyes lit up when you read their seasonal drink special and walked a few steps forward, your eyes still locked on the menu so you knew you couldn’t mess up your order. 

“What can I get started for you?” Peter followed his unofficial official script. 

“Uh, hi! Could I get a medium iced Nutella latte, please?” Your voice was hypnotic to the brunette boy. He thought he could listen to you talk all day for the rest of his life.  

“And what’s the name?” He took out a Sharpie and wrote down ‘16 oz. iced Nutella’ on the plastic cup. 

“Y/n.” He smiled at the name as you watched him write it down, even smiling to yourself when he spelled it correctly. 

“Alright, Y/n. I’ll have that right out for you.” He walked away after you paid and you found a table off to the side to sit at while you waited. 

This was your first time in this coffee shop, and you are still trying out new places. You took the whole place in; the warm fairy lights hung around the building, the cream-colored walls with local artists’ paintings, couches in the corner with games on a coffee table for others to play. 

Peter called out your name, a small blush crept onto his cheeks when he saw you walking towards him. He knew it meant nothing, you were just another customer. But oh how he wanted to see you shyly walk toward him with a smile on your face every day. 

“Thank you…” your voice trailed off, eyes scanning anywhere for a name tag. 

“Peter!” He beamed. 

“Thank you, Peter,” you smiled at him one last time before grabbing a straw and walking away. “Have a nice day!” You yelled as you walked out the door, causing butterflies to stir in Peter’s stomach. 

His day just got so much better. 

– – –

It had been a week since you had walked into Peter’s coffee shop. He had lost hope that you would ever show again making up scenarios on why you never came back, but he knew this was delusion at its finest. 

It was early afternoon and the morning rush had finally died down. Peter was in the middle of making a matcha when he heard the bell ring. He looked up for a quick second and caught a glimpse of your hair. 

“Uhhh matcha for… Ashley!” Peter’s eyes flickered between the drink in his hands and you, barely able to read the name. 

“Thanks, cutie,” a blonde girl walked up to Peter, winking at him as she took her drink out of his hands, fingers slightly brushing up against each other. Peter’s ears turned pink at the nickname, giving her a polite smile. 

“You’re welcome.”

“So, when are you off? I’d love to get to know you more.” Ashley was eyeing Peter up and down while he shifted uncomfortably. 

“I’m not so sure, just, you know… whenever?” The blonde girl gave Peter a weird look.

“Alright, well, I’ll see you around, handsome.” Ashley spun on her heel and walked out, the bell ringing above her. Peter exhaled and wiped away sweat he didn’t even know was there. 

“So, are you that bad at flirting or are you too nice to tell someone you’re taken?” You asked Peter once he was in front of you. His face turned red, smiling & looking down at his shoes to hide his face. 

“I- uh- just wasn’t interested.” 

“So, bad at flirting.” You smirked at the brown-eyed boy noticing how red his face was getting from, what you assumed was, embarrassment. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he playfully rolled his eyes and you giggled. “So, what can I get for you today?” 

“An iced Nutella latte, please!” Peter’s face lit up as he recognized your order from last time. 

“Medium?”

“Yes, please.” 

“And what was the name?” It was Y/n. Peter already knew because that name had been ringing in his head for the last seven days. He wrote it down as you responded to him, doodling a little smiley face next to it. 

Peter quickly got started on making your drink, looking back at you now and then. You looked up from your phone when he called your name, walking towards the boy with a smile on your face. 

“Thank you so much, Peter!” You exclaimed while his ears turned pink when you remembered his name. 

“Y-You’re welcome, Y/n.” Peter grinned, noticing you remembered his name. He watched you walk away, but you quickly turned to face him. 

“Oh also,” you started and Peter leaned in. “How late are you guys open?” 

“Are you flirting with me?” You let out a laugh at his response. 

“No, you’d know if I was flirting with you,” you smirked at him. Though he hates to admit it, his heart broke a little when you confirmed you were not. “I just love the atmosphere here. It’s great for studying.” You continued to smile at the boy.

“We’re open till midnight.”

“Really?! Why so late?” Peter shrugged. 

“I’ve never really thought about it. I’m guessing it’s cause we’re in a college town, which gives students a nice place to study and do group projects.”

“Cool. Well, I’ll see you around, Peter.” You winked at him before walking away and his cheeks flushed pink. 

– – –

The next couple of weeks, you came into the coffee shop often. Conveniently, Peter had been working most of the time you came. He had your order memorized like the back of his hand, but sometimes you would take him by surprise and order a muffin or a bagel. 

The bell rang and he smiled when he saw you walk in. It was his favorite part of all of his shifts. Sure, he had a few regulars that he loved talking to, but the small talk between the two of you has slowly made its way to one of the favorite things he looks forward to nearly every day. 

“Good afternoon, Miss Y/n!” Peter beamed. 

“Hello!” You smiled brightly at him, pulling at the sleeves of your sweater. 

“The usual?” 

“Yes, please.” Peter put in your order, doodling another smiley next to your name on the cup. He took you in as you tapped your phone on the card reader. 

“I like your outfit.” He complimented. It wasn’t anything much, just an oversized cream-knitted sweater with a short denim skirt paired with brown high-top Converse. You shyly smiled and tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, a small blush painted across your cheeks. 

“Thanks. This skirt just came in the mail today, I hope it isn’t too short.” You pulled it down a little even though your backpack was hung low enough to hide anything. 

“It’s cute, I love it.” Peter smiled as he continued to stare at you. He started to think about how if he finally had the balls to just ask for your number. The outfit you would wear if he took you out on a date during this fall season like for a pumpkin patch or even a haunted house. Would you lean into him when you cold—

“So… my drink?” You asked, snapping him out of his daze. 

“Oh! Right, right. Uh, I’ll get started on it.” You giggled at how flustered Peter was when he almost dropped the empty cup. 

“You are fucking delusional,” Peter mumbled to himself as he made your drink. 

You found a table near a window to get started on some homework. You set up your computer and notebook, put on headphones, and started on your homework. Indulged in your work, you didn’t hear your name being called and practically jumped out of your seat when Peter tapped you on the shoulder. 

“Holy shit you scared the crap out of me,” you exclaimed. Peter laughed and set your drink down. 

“Next time, maybe don’t be blasting Red by Taylor Swift.” Your face flushed as red as the cover of the album. 

“How did you…?” 

“I could hear it. You know, you can destroy your eardrums by playing music that loudly.”

“And you know I simply do not care.” You smiled smugly at the boy and he just laughed. 

“Yeah, yeah. Talk to me when you’re wearing hearing aids at 40.” You playfully rolled your eyes at the smirk plastered on his face. “Enjoy your latte!” When he walked away, yelled back at you leaving you a smiling mess. 

A few hours had gone by and you were still hunched over your homework. A yawn escaped your mouth causing you to drop your pen, laying your head on your arms on the table. You felt someone nudge your arm so you looked up only to be met with chocolate brown eyes. You took off your headphones and gave him a confused look. 

“Here, on the house.” Peter handed you a coffee cake muffin and you couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach. Or maybe it was the hunger. 

“How’d you know this one is my favorite?” 

“You’ve ordered it a few times,” Peter scratched the back of his neck and shrugged. “You just looked like you needed something.”

“Are you saying I look bad right now?” You raised an eyebrow and his eyes widened. 

“No! No, no. Not at all. I mean like you just— I mean you were falling asleep and—“ You laughed and he joined in with you. “I just thought it would help you focus on… whatever you’re doing.” He took a quick look at your work, all the scribbles and numbers in your notebook looked like a foreign language to him which took him by surprise because whatever had numbers involved, he normally understood. 

“Thanks, it’s very much appreciated.” You took a bite from the muffin, relaxing a bit. 

“It’s no problem. What have you been working on? It’s Friday, shouldn’t you be having fun tonight?” He wiggled his eyebrows in an attempt to lighten the mood but you just rolled your eyes. 

“Bro don’t even get me started. It’s my accounting homework. We have an exam coming up and I need to finish this if I wanna go out tonight.” You looked at your work and shuddered. Just the sight of it was repulsing to you. 

“You’re in accounting? You don’t strike me as a finance man— uh woman.” You let out a dry chuckle and shook your head. 

“Correct. I’m not. I’m in business marketing, but one of the required classes to even get into the business school is accounting. It’s absolute death.”

“What do you want to do with your marketing degree?” Peter asked, taking the seat across from you. 

“I’m not really sure yet, the field is so broad. I just like making things pretty.”

“I can see that,” Peter gestured to your notes filled with colorful pens. You giggled and shook your head.

“It just helps me understand what’s going into which account, that’s all. But in all honesty, with my degree, I think it would be so fun to work in social media or the fashion industry. Ooh! Or maybe even do the marketing for a tour for like Taylor Swift or something. That would be everything.” Peter listened to you intently and you felt yourself become a little shy of the attention. 

The two of you ended up talking for a while, finding out where he goes to school and what he’s studying for. You’ve always loved your small talks with the cute barista, but this was another level. You admired how he looked with the sun hitting his brown curls perfectly while it was setting. He looked unreal but in a good way. 

“Wait, aren’t you supposed to be working?” You glanced at the clock and noticed you had been sitting and chatting for thirty minutes. His ears turned pink and he looked down at his hands. 

“I actually clocked out when I gave you your muffin.” He sheepishly smiled at you and all you could do was smile. 

“And you are so, so sweet for that. Thank you so much! But don’t you want to go home? I feel so bad, I’m sure you’re tired. I don’t want to keep you away from anything.” Peter’s heart warmed at how thoughtful you were of his time, but he felt bad that you felt bad

“No! You’re not keeping me from anything, I promise. This was really nice.” He gave you a reassuring smile. 

“Oh good, good. Well, I was thinking of heading out because looking at my notes is giving me a headache and I think I would rather die than look at any of this anymore today.” 

“We can, um, walk out together? If you want to, that is, unless you have somewhere to go then–”

“Yeah! Yeah, no I would like that. And there’s less of a chance of me being kidnapped with a cute guy walking with me.” You bit back a laugh as you watched Peter’s face turn red. Once you had packed up all your stuff, the two of you headed out the door into the chilly autumn evening. 

“Do you guys have fall break coming up?” You asked, pulling at the sleeves of your sweater. 

“Yeah, I think it’s next week.” Peter had no idea what to do. What do you mean he’s walking with his crush, specifically, seeing her outside his work? He just stuffed his hands in his pockets and ignored the desire to hold your hand. 

“Same! Are you doing anything fun?” 

“Not sure, probably just gonna go home and spend time with my aunt. I’ve been so busy with work and school I haven’t had a lot of time to swing by.” No pun intended, Peter thought to himself.

“Oh, that’s so sweet. So, you’re from around here?”

“Yeah! Are you?” You were about to respond until you saw a familiar face running towards you. 

“Y/n! Oh my god! Hey!” It was one of your suitemates, Sophia. The two of you hugged while Peter just stood awkwardly to the side. “Did you see my text?”

“Ugh, no. I’m so sorry! I had been studying all day.” You pulled out your phone to find her text.

“It’s all good! Well, our favorite frat is throwing a party tonight. We’re all gonna go get ready right now.” 

“Oh my god! I neeeeed to go!” You smirked at Sophia. Peter watched the entire interaction, just smiling and nodding his head. “Oh! This is Peter. Peter, this is my suitemate, Sophia.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Peter reached his arm out and they shook hands. 

“Is this the cute–” Sophia started but you smacked her arm to stop, sending her a glare. 

“Thanks for walking with me, Peter. We gotta go, though. I’ll see you soon?” 

“Yes! Yeah, I’ll see you soon, Y/n.” You bit back a smile and waved goodbye to him. Peter watched as you and Sophia walked away, smiling a bit until he realized: he didn’t even ask for your number. 

– – –

Peter was working another afternoon shift, which he didn’t mind at all. He was still a little upset that he didn’t get your number, so he made himself an iced Nutella latte so he could wallow in his sadness over the greatest fumble of his life. The bell rang but Peter ignored it, popping a lid over the plastic cup and grabbing a straw.

“Peter?” He recognized that angelic voice anywhere. Turning around, he saw you fidgeting with your hands at the register. Your hair was thrown up in a messy bun, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt with black sunglasses on.

“Hey!” He put the drink down before he had even gotten a sip and ran up to the register. 

“I have the worst hangover ever,” your voice barely above a whisper. Peter quickly slid over the latte he made for himself to you. 

“On the house, because you look like you need it,” Peter bit back a smirk. It was hard to see your expression with those big sunglasses on, but he could imagine you rolling your eyes by the way you bit your lips to hold back a smile. 

“You are an angel sent from heaven,” you praised the boy, drinking the smooth, sugary liquid.

“So I’m guessing you had fun last night?” Peter wiggled his eyebrows at you. 

“I fear I become a whole other person when drinking Pink Whitney.” 

“Damn, what happened?” 

“I don’t even remember, I blacked. I guess I made out with one of the frat guys, according to my friends. Oh, and I threw a drink in someone’s face. I don’t know.” Peter was unsure of how to respond. He wasn’t a huge party person so he couldn’t really relate to any drinking experiences, but he also didn’t know how to respond to you making out with a guy. 

“Is this the reason why that’s your ‘favorite frat?’” Peter asked, using his fingers as quotations to quote Sophie from yesterday. You let out a dry chuckle and shook your head. 

“It’s our favorite because the guys in it are actually the most stupid people I’ve ever met. I mean, last night, they literally set up a slip ‘n slide down their stairs. It’s so fun to watch,” you swirled your coffee with the straw, reminiscing moments from last night. “You should come with us next time!”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m not really a ‘party’ person,” Peter avoided your eye contact while your lips formed a line. “But,” Peter’s tone changed. “Maybe I’ll go, just for you.” Your face lit up, nodding in silent confirmation of those unofficial plans.

“When are you off?”

“Are you flirting with me, Y/n?” 

“Maybe,” you said, your voice was airy. Like clockwork, Peter’s face turned red and you just smirked at him. 

“I’m off in fifteen. If you wanna wait, we can, uh, you know, walk–”

“Yeah! I’m down,” you smiled at the boy before walking away to sit at your usual table, waiting for the cute barista. 

And that’s how the next few weeks were. You would get your coffee and sometimes Peter would give it to you for free (those were automatically your favorite days), you would wait for him to get off work, and then the two of you would walk home together. Peter would tell himself every day that it was the day he would finally get your number, but one of you always had something urgent to get to once you had to go your separate ways. Last week, your suitemate’s cat ran away. A few days ago, Peter had a Spidey emergency where he just ran off. 

You would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t waiting for Peter to finally ask you out. He consumed your mind, despite you never hanging out outside of the coffee shop. The two of you talked about your schools, the classes you were taking, and just random stories on your walks home. He would even help you with your accounting homework while he was on break or if it was slow. He was so endearing and kind to you, but you were waiting for him to make the first move. 

But soon, those weeks turned cold fast. You hadn’t shown up at his coffee shop in a week and a half. Peter was starting to worry that you died or something, searching for you while on patrol and mindlessly staring out the window, hoping you would walk in. 

– – –

It was a cold, winter day. Peter made himself a hot chocolate to wallow himself in his sorrows after not seeing you for so long. He was starting to beat himself up for never asking for your number, in fear that he wouldn’t ever see you again. He didn’t even know your last name to search for you on Instagram. 

Christmas had passed and the new year had already begun. He had all these daydreams about the two of you spending the holidays together, but you never showed. He started to think that maybe you found a new barista to flirt with and you and your new boyfriend had babies together already. 

Even Peter’s coworkers had noticed his mood drop. When you started to go to their coffee shop frequently, his entire personality was a lot brighter. He smiled more and hummed while making everyone’s drinks. But now, he would just stare out the window, grieving the loss of what never even began. 

Peter drank his hot chocolate while watching the snow fall outside from behind the counter. Some buildings still had their Christmas lights up, making the city feel more homey than ever. 

“Welcome in,” Peter mindlessly announced when he heard the bell ring. He hadn’t bothered looking over, assuming one of his coworkers would take over the register. 

“Wow, I’m gone for like a month and that’s all I get?” Peter whipped his head around so fast he could have gotten whiplash. 

“Y/n!” He ran around the corner to hug you and you wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling into the hug. “Where have you been?”

“Missed me that much, pretty boy?” You laughed as he playfully rolled his eyes to hide his blush. Peter walked behind the counter again so he could take your order, but he took you in. You were wearing a maroon beanie and a white winter coat over your big knitted sweater. 

“Aren’t you cold?” He referred to your ripped jeans. 

“Not really,” you just shrugged. 

“The usual?”

“Yes, please!”

“You still want it iced?” Peter raised an eyebrow at you and you nodded your head. 

“Yes, oh my god. I’ve been craving this drink for the last month!”

“You’re crazy to want an iced drink in this weather.”

“Call me whatever you want, but I’m feening for this drink.” Peter laughed at you when you took out your card, prepared to pay. 

“So, where have you been?”

“Oh! I went home for break.” You said it so nonchalantly like you didn’t leave Peter alone and depressed for the last month. 

“You’re not from around here?” He questioned you. 

“No. I could’ve sworn I told you I was gonna be gone. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you!” You pursed your lip out and Peter just gave you a sad smile. 

“It’s okay, not like I missed my favorite person or anything.” Your eyes widened and you could’ve sworn you heard him chuckle when he walked away to make your drink. 

As Peter was making your latte, he knew he couldn’t risk going no contact with you again. He grabbed a Sharpie from the register and quickly wrote down his number next to your name, hoping you would notice. 

“Y/n!” He called out. You smiled at him as you were walking up, grabbing the drink from the counter. 

“Thank you! I gotta go, I already have assignments to start on. I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah! See you later, Y/n.” He waved and smiled at you. You gave him one last wave as you walked out the door, your back pushing it open. 

Peter went the rest of his shift high on adrenaline, making the best drinks he’s probably made since the first day you walked into the coffee shop. He clocked out and grabbed his backpack, walking out into the cold. He felt his phone buzz from his coat pocket, taking it out to see it. 

hey pretty boy :)

Peter was smiling and giggling the rest of his walk home. 

[thevampiremarie]

Summertime Sadness (part 2)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Second chance romance, heavy angst, hurt/very little comfort

Ten years ago: the first time you met Simon

Today: the first time Ghost meets you

Tags: mental illness, therapeutic boarding school, self harm, suicide attempt/suicidality, self harm, abuse, parental abandonment, much the same as last chapter. This fic is unedited because I don’t feel like editing it lol. If you see spelling/grammar issues, no you didn’t.

TEN YEARS AGO

Reader POV

-

It’s intake day.

Intake day happens once a week, always on Wednesday.

You don’t know why they pick Wednesday. It seems pretty arbitrary, doesn’t it?

On intake day, the nurses and counselors make all the current residents of the inpatient program line up to greet the newbies. You actually look forward to intake day. Everyone here is so boring and routine; your roommate never speaks unless spoken to and she always keeps her earbuds in. On intake day, the hope that someone nice will be admitted survives for the few hours of the intake itself.

It usually dies right after. There was one polite girl who smiled when you waved last week, but she was transferred to a different facility that night before you could learn her name.

You’ve been here for three weeks, so that’s three intake days.

You’re not sure why you’ve been here so long. It seems a little excessive; you’d think by now they’d realize your stuff isn’t so bad and maybe you could transition to outpatient appointments?

It’s a little dissociation and some minor depression. Not bad at all.

But your doctors agree, albeit gently, that you should stay for the full five month course.

The program isn’t so bad. The facility sits on a sprawling multi-acre property in the British countryside, where everything is beautiful and verdant and always chilly. It’s lovely. The tea is good. You’re getting used to how they take it here. It’s nothing like the sweet tea you drink back home.

You suppose that’s another reason why they won’t let you go home even though you’re okay; there isn’t a home to go back to. Your dad hasn’t looked you in the eye since Mom left. At least the orderlies here greet you in the morning.

(What Dad doesn’t know is that before she left, she told you she loved you and to wait for her. Soon, she’ll take you away from this place and you’ll never have to see your dad again.)

Before you head to the foyer, you check your hair in the mirror of your room’s suicide-proofed bathroom. A young teenage face stares back at you with cheeks flushed red from the sun. You trace your deep smile lines with the tip of your finger, then practice smiling. You would have feel better about moving to a therapeutic boarding school if you’d been greeted with a smile.

At first, you think the newest crop of poor souls will be uninteresting at best. Listless rich kids detoxing off Mommy’s coke, frightened preteens who’ve never been away from their parents for an extended period of time, and a few teenagers straight from an ER, IV bags and all.

And then you see him get off the bus last.

He’s tall, towering over everyone else. A lanky, almost skeletal build, with a bored, aloof expression on his face. He hides the Zippo lighter he was playing with in his sleeve before the nurses catch and confiscate it.

There’s something horrifically severe about him. He can’t be more than a couple of years older than you, but he carries himself like he’s a blade and the world is filled with monsters.

His eyes are large and dark, rich brown irises rimmed with pale blonde eyelashes. And they’re kind, even though he would probably hate having that pointed out.

You decide then and there that you’ll befriend him. He could use a friend; everyone here does. He’s beautiful in his sharpness and elegant in his abrasiveness. Maybe you can coax more of that hidden kindness out, show him that it’s worth more than his anger. You wouldn’t be able to stay away if you tried.

You both like playing with fire, though you prefer less literal ones.

-

TODAY

Ghost POV

-

Your smile fades swiftly as if it was never there to begin with.

There are two ghosts in this room. That’s what you are; a ghost of the girl he knew.

He watches and waits for you to shift uncomfortably and start blabbering to fill the silence like you used to. “Why’d you make them call me?” Ghost asks when it’s clear that you won’t.

As soon as you explain, he’s out of here. Ghost meant it when he said he never wanted to see you again.

You’re the last living reminder of the past he’s tried so hard to kill. The beeping sounds of your heart monitor spell out his mistakes in a grating, irritating rhythm.

Your answer disappoints his expectations. “I didn’t actually think you’d show.” Ghost doesn’t hear any wistfulness or longing in your voice, anything that would tell him that you’re clinging on to the boy you thought he was. Only a bone-dry and hollow statement of facts.

“What do you want?”

You ignore his question. At fifteen, you were good at that. At twenty-five, you’re better. “You got any cigarettes I could bum? You look like you still smoke them,” You say as you fiddle with your torn, bleeding nail beds with the classic anxiety of nicotine withdrawal.

He does that too when a mission stretches too long without a resupply and he finishes his cigarettes early to stave off hunger.

Ghost remembers fighting with you over the pack of smokes he smuggled into the program. He would hold it way above your head and laugh as you struggled to reach them. But you never gave up - they were bad for him, and you liked him too much to see him die of lung cancer.

He remembers the determination in your eyes and your unwavering faith that he could be saved.

“They’re bad for you,” Ghost echoes.

If you remember that moment, you don’t show it. “You know what else is fucking bad for you?” Your tone is so acerbic that it gives him whiplash.

He can’t resist taking a shot. “What, being a prick?” You just… bring out the worst in him. You make him feel as unhinged and unmoored as he was when you first met.

You roll your bloodshot eyes.

“I wasn’t going to call you out on that. I was going to say benzos and vodka. Also throwing yourself headfirst off a bridge.”

“Oh.”

What is he supposed to say to that?

“Why did you come?” You ask after a long moment of quiet interspersed by that fucking heart monitor.

Ghost grinds his teeth into each other as he reflects. He hates doing that; the inside of his skull is a bad place. “…I don’t know,” He admits. Coming here was a mistake; Ghost understands that now.

The foul taste on the back of his tongue is guilt. But why? You did this to yourself. You brought him here to play games and fuck him up, so why is he the one who feels… bad?

You sigh. “Simon-“

“Ghost. It’s Ghost now,” He cuts you off with more violence than necessary.

Your mouth settles into a tight, pained line. “Ghost. Go away.”

“But you called me here.”

That provokes a reaction.

Ghost sees it and immediately wishes it hadn’t.

You stare him straight in the eye, your dilated pupils peel back his mask and see the face underneath. Your skin is tinged gray and your bottom lip blooms red with blood from where you’ve bitten through it.

He wants back the child sobbing for his forgiveness on her knees, who looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

“And it was a mistake, and I should never have done it, and I just wanted the satisfaction of knowing you weren’t going to pick up the phone. That I was truly alone.”

So the memory of him is a knife you’re using on yourself. Fucking disturbing.

“Oh.”

You raise an eyebrow as you wave. “Bye.”

Right.

That’s it.

Though your dismissal rankles, Ghost does as you ordered and takes his leave of you.

His work phone vibrates a few times.

Only one person calls that it. “Captain,” Ghost greets.

Captain Price clears his throat on the other side of the line. “Lieutenant. When can we expect you back?”

‘Tomorrow’ is on the tip of Ghost’s tongue.

He’s never taken a day off in his career, which means he’s got at least a year or two in built up vacation time. “I’ll be gone for a while longer, sir. Not sure yet how long,” Ghost answers promptly.

It’s only for a few more days, a week at most. Long enough to make sure you won’t try to kill yourself again, long enough for the guilt freezing his blood and choking his lungs to fade.

“Alright, Lieutenant. Keep us posted.”

“Yes, sir.”

TAGGING: @devcica @igotmajordaddyissues @almightywdm @copiasratscheese @nerdyreaderpapi @schmelscorner

[imbadatwrighting]

Sneaky Cat

Requested

I was going to write this as a songfic but changed my mind last minute so it took a little longer than expected. Anyways to the person who asked for this I had to smush some things together I hope that’s alright and the smut lowkey ain’t dat great. Also just started watch future man…do what you want with that information

Pairing: Selina Kyle x Male reader

Tags: NSFW 18+ at the end, sex with plot? (Idk I’ve never read a post with that), Wayne!reader, adopted!reader, sweet!reader, fluff, smut, Bruce and reader having tension, no use of Y/n, 2nd pov, soft dom!reader, brother issues, lowkey rushed to the sex half way through, oral (reader giving), unprotected sex, cream pie, missionary , prolly a lot of spelling errors

“Selina! Have you seen my tie?” Your voice boomed across the whole second floor of the house unintentionally.

“This tie?” your girlfriend of two years asked, holding up a gold tie. She leaned against the door frame staring at you with her classic cat eyes.

A smile plastered on your face, walking towards her. “This is why I love you,” you grinned, reaching down to plant a kiss on her lips and grab the tie.

You could feel the smirk she made through the kiss before breaking it off. “No other reasons?” she asked, a devious smile on her face.

You walked back to your mirror, staring at her through it while you put your tie on. “Not any I can remember I’m afraid.”

She swayed closer to you, wrapping her hands around your waist and maneuvering her head to be beside your shoulder. “That’s too bad. Here I was thinking you loved me for my brilliant ideas,” she pouted before hiding her mouth with your shoulder so you couldn’t see her smile.

A small groan left your lips as you ran your hands through your hair. “I wouldn’t say making me go to this gala was a good idea.”

“You own the most stocks and are a co-owner of Wayne Enterprises, I’m afraid you have to go.”

You turned around to face her, slowly wrapping your arms around her waist. Her hands moved up to your chest, smoothing out a wrinkle. “You only want me to go so you can steal valuables from the guests, my dearest.”

Selina huffed before turning away towards the door. Her hips swayed as she walked away. “Let’s not leave Alfred waiting much longer mi amor,” she grinned.

You stood still for a moment, unsure of what you heard was right. You ran towards Selina, observing her eyes for any sense of sarcasm or lying.

“Do not tell me Bruce will be there too,” you spoke slowly, walking down the steps of your mansion with Selina. The sounds of heeled shoes hitting marble, echoed in the area.

“If I remember correctly, your parents gave Wayne Enterprises to both you and Bruce and he still plays apart in it,” she replied hastily, not caring enough to make eye contact.

“When he’s not playing good guy in his bat costume, sure, but all he cares about is fighting crime over and over again, he cares little about what happens to Wayne Enterprises or even me!”

“If I remember correctly you fight crime too.” Selina walked faster, reaching the first floor before you, grabbing a necklace on the marble counter.

She stared at the black diamonds shinning under the light, eventually moving her hand with the necklace towards you, gesturing you to put it on her.

You sighed, grabbing the necklace. “When I was with his all I did was stare at the computers in his little cave.”

“You still do,” Selina hummed.

“That different,” you grumbled. “When I was working with him, no one even knew my name or I was a vigilante at all. You had no idea who Umbra Mortis was after I told you. Or that I was his brother.”

“I do now. People know who Umbra Mortis is now.” Selina turned to face your towering figure after felling the necklace be latched on.

“They still don’t know I’m his brother. He refuses to tell people I’m his brother because I was adopted.”

“That’s not true,” Selina said, following you out the door.

“How’d you know? You ask him?” You smirked.

“Maybe,” Selina replied, before grabbing you arm, only being a couple feet away from the limo containing your brother and his butler. “Listen be nice to him and you might even get a special treat,” she grinned, pulling you down into a kiss.

It felt longer that it was but you savored every second of it. You observed the taste of cherries that presented itself onto your tongue.

You hummed as she broke away from the the kiss slowly. You wished you didn’t have to go to the gala, instead staying home with Selina watching her favorite movie in bed.

You opened the door of the limo, letting Selina get in before you while you held the door. You could hear pleasantries given from where you stood as you desperately wished you would have to get in the limo with you older brother.

You could feel your brothers gaze on you as you entered the limo.

“Greeting Master Wayne,” Alfred nodded, quickly driving off. You smiled at the man, he always had called you by your last name since you could remember. It wasn’t that you weren’t close to him, he just wanted to always show his upmost respect towards you.

“Brother,” Bruce greeted. It didn’t seem like the type of greeting you would give your brother, more like a greeting to a stranger.

A curt nod was given to Bruce as you intertwined your hand with Selina’s soft hands. Your fingers played with her rings that she stole from multiple museums.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Bruce brought up, eyes still trained on your figure. Your eyes broke away from Selina’s perfect figure.

“Whose fault was that?” you murmured, rolling your eyes. Selina’s heeled foot quickly hit your leg in annoyance. Your eyes quickly looked over to your girlfriend before moving back to look at Bruce.

Bruce paid no mind to your comment. “I see,” he commented, not saying anything else.

A wave of awkwardness took over the limo as the two brothers or interact with each other, or at least one of them did.

“Talk to him, querido,” Selina whispered in your ear, running her nails down your suit.

You rolled your eyes not looking at your girlfriend. “What are you doing here Bruce?” you say bluntly, being forced to say something.

“I’m going to a gala, brother. It’s good for my image.”

“Alfred making you go?”

“It seems you know me too well brother.”

You hummed. “Well, after having to be around you, most of my life, it seems I have to. If not, I might have become a worse brother than you.”

Selena scoff at you as Bruce squinted his eyes. “I gave you no reason to say I am a bad brother.”

An irked expression fell on your face as you glared lightly at your brother. “You have multiple recent to being a bad brother! You left me on a mountain by myself, at fifteen!”

An annoyed expression fell on Bruce’s face. “How many times do I have to tell you it was an accident, I thought you already left,” he said, fingers massaging his temple.

“How am I supposed to believe that when just an hour before you were screaming at me and wishing I wasn’t in your life,” you glared, feeling Selena’s hands down your back and comfort and also as a warning.

“Boys, enough of this, we’re already at this gala so pretend you like each other,” Selina smirked, an obvious fake smile before elegantly getting out of the limo.

You spared Bruce no mind as you got out after your girlfriend, you hand finding the perfect resting spot on her waist.

“Just talking to me and a couple guests won’t get anything you’re hoping for tonight,” she whispered, slowly pushing your arms off her waist, a smile still on her face. “Talk to Bruce or you’re getting nothing tonight.”

With that same grinning smile she walked off, most likely towards the bar full of drunk old fish man with pockets full of money.

With a sigh you slowed your walking, letting Bruce catch up to you. “My apologies for my inappropriate acts Bruce.”

“Don’t act like that,” he said, talking in a whisper, occasionally nodding his head at a couple men and woman.

“Act like what?” you ask.

“Like we’re not brothers. You haven’t talked to me like a brother since you were fifteen.”

“You throw me in the side Bruce, you always have. I had no reason to treat you like a brother when you were too busy to acknowledge me.”

Bruce looks at you with an unreadable expression on his face before taking a deep breath.

You went to scoff before he spoke up. “I’m sorry,” he said is a hushed voice. It almost made you stop in your tracks. Not once has your brother ever apologized to you. Not when he pushed you down the stairs, or when he played a mean April fools day prank on you.

You stayed silent for a minute smiling when contractors and other business partners walked by.

You didn’t care about them at the moment, your first thought was on your brother. Then of course Selina forty feet away at the bar.

“I’m sorry as well… brother,” you spoke, slowly walking away from Bruce towards Selina.

“I talked to him and even said sorry,” you smile, hand going up to her shoulders.

She turned around staring up into your eyes. “Considering Bruce looks like a kicked puppy I would say you did it like you were supposed to.”

You frowned at her words. “Listen it’s the best you’re going to get out of me tonight, now can we just go home?”

Selina digs a gold watch out of her purse, looking at the time. “We’ve been here for no more than ten minutes so unfortunately not mi amor.”

“You’re just being mean at this point,” you groan walking to wherever Selina sways to.

“At least an hour then we can leave,” she smirks pulling you to the dance floor. “For now, we dance.” She puts one arm around your neck and the other into your hand and she waltz’s to the relaxing music.

Your eyes met her sparkling black ones as waves of emotion overflowed your body. She made you fall in love with her every day.

“I can’t stay here Selina,” you growled in her ear.

She paid no mind to you as she twirled and danced. She was enjoying this and you both knew it.

“Selina,” you growled once again. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait. I’m not going home because you’re horny.”

Your hand traveled down her waist, lightly grazing her ass. Her subtly eyed you, eyes narrowing down. “Relax my love, no one is watching,” you whispered, softly biting her ear as you leaned down.

You could feel Selina get hotter as you continued to dance on the dance floor. Your thoughts were not on Bruce nor anyone else but Selina. You didn’t care about anything except Selina.

“You’re playing a dirty game baby,” Selina murmured in your ear, hands gripping your body.

“I wouldn’t have to if we left.”

Selina stayed silent once more, like she was contemplating the answer she would choose. “…fine,” she murmured.

A grin fell on your face before you dragged her out of the gala, you opened the door of a rentable limo. You didn’t have to say any words to the man. Almost everyone in Gotham knew where you lived. It was hard to miss it.

Selina sat down close to you, kissing your neck. You exhaled a breath, holding her waist. “If you keep it up, I’m going to get a boner before we get home,” you groan.

She seemed to only hum and that, keeping up with the original pace.

The drive home seemed longer than anything before. It felt like the limo driver was going slower on purpose. Selina didn’t let it stop her as she spread hickeys all over your neck.

The white limo stopped at the entrance to your mansion. Selina and you quickly rushed out, leaving behind cash for the driver. Poor man must have been a little traumatized.

You pushed Selina through the door into your room. Her hot breath could be felt on your face.

You unzipped her black dress before she reach for her necklace. “No,” you breathed out. “Keep it on.”

You could feel her lightly moan against your neck as you removed your tie and shirt.

You hoisted Selina up before gently throwing her on the bed.

“Fuck,” you moaned out. Crawling on the bed to be face to face with your girlfriend. “You’re so hot baby.”

Her hands reached up to your neck, pulling you down into her. The kiss was sloppy; full of lust. Her legs wrapped around your unclothed waist.

You head traveled down kisses her neck towards her tits. She grabbed onto your hair as you left a trail of kisses to her clit.

Your hot breath only made her wetter. You licked her clit slowly before making eye contact with her. She let out a breathy moan as you stared her down. Your mouth latched onto her clit sucking and licking like a mad man.

“Fuck,” she moaned, gripping your hair harder. You let out a quick sound before resuming your task.

“God I love your pussy,” you rasped, sticking two fingers into her drenched hole. Her shaky legs wrapped around your head.

Your fingers thrusted in and out of her as your teeth lightly grazed her clit. She could feel her orgasm already coming. “Baby,” she groaned, quickly tapping your head. You removed your mouth from her wet clit as you looked up at her.

“I need it in me,” she whispered, almost like she was embarrassed. She could hear you undoing your zipper as soon as the words came out of her mouth.

Her legs released you from her grip as she pulled you up to be face to face with her. She could feel your hard cock rubbing against her clit. A soft moan came out of her as her arms wrapped around your neck.

“I’ve wanted you all day, baby,” you groan, lips attacking her own as you slowly entered her wet pussy.

“I know,” she smirked out before moaning loudly as you thrusted in and out of her. “God, I forgot how big you were.”

Your arm traveled down to her waist giving you a better angle to thrust into her. “You’re so tight, honey,” you breath out, hair falling down on your eyes.

Nails grazed down your back as you thrusted harder into your girlfriend. Her girlfriend arched your back letting out a whimper. “I’m close baby,” she whimpered feeling her orgasm about to come.

“Just a little more. You can hold out baby,” you grunted, pounding into her at an inhuman pace. Your cock overwhelming her senses.

Her legs shook as her head turned to the side, giving you a better view of her neck. “I’m close, I’m so fucking close,” she panted.

Your hand gripped her waist tighter, feeling her slowly get tighter. “Let go baby,” you muttered, feeling your release about to come.

A high pitched moan left your girlfriend as her pussy tightened around you and legs vibrated rapidly. You gave a few more quick thrusts before coming inside her.

Your moved you hand to move your girlfriend face towards you. Her fucked out eyes looked at you as she panted hard.

You slowly pulled out of her before kissing the top of her head. “I love you,” you sighed, getting up to clean her up.

“Bath or no bath?” you asked, grabbing a hand towel from the bathroom.

“No bath,” she grinned weakly, pulling you towards her. “Just want you.”

“You got me baby,” you smirked, handing her one of your comfy shirts after cleaning her up the best you could.

She slipped on your shirt, it draped over her figure as she huddled towards your figure getting in bed.

You looked at the shirt, too big for your girlfriend. “God just looking at you turns me on.” You kissed your smiling girlfriend.

“You’re handling that issue yourself.”

You smiled harder at her. You didn’t care about Bruce in the moment or fighting crime, just caring about marrying the girl laying next to you.

[tallymonster]

Memories of Us

Chapter 1 (you are here!) || Masterlist

So, I like many others had seen this gorgeous fan art by @cheesy-cryptid and I was utterly hypnotized by it. I couldn't stop thinking about it and from that constant thought growing came my silly fic.

This has been a labor of love for the last month. I'm still working on it and so far I have about 10 parts 🙃 depending on the feedback is how quickly I'm going to be posting since it's still a work in progress. I want to thank my best friend and my main support for this @micropoe10 ❤️ without her I wouldn't have pushed myself to even post this, so thanks boo 😘

This is also my first long fic, so please be gentle 🥺

Summary: Octavia is a new assistant at the Baldur's Gate Museum of History, her new boss is elusive and mysterious. Good thing his right hand man, Gale, is there to help her out for the first few weeks.

Tags: Nothing too bad for the first few parts, fluff, establishing storyline mostly, generational lineage mentioned.

Chapter 1

Never Caught My Breath

The day Octavia was incredibly nervous about had arrived. After her graduation (which seemed like a lifetime ago), endless stack of paperwork and at least 3 different interviews; Octavia made it to the Baldur's Gate Museum of History, the end of her long and difficult studies.

Here, she would start as the new assistant curator. What's strange though, is that after the last interview she thought she'd get to meet her boss, but it was his main assistant, Gale.

"I must apologize", he begins, "but our lead is currently out of the office for another week, maybe two, so I must conduct the final round, I hope you understand."

Strange, but not unheard of. The majority of the work would be with Gale directly, but it was at the least, the most basic courtesy for her boss to introduce himself by this point.

As she walks into the museum, relics from the past line the cabinets; old armor and gloves from heroes of legends from long ago, tons of jewelry and books, rare spell scrolls, and most prized of all, paintings recovered from the fall of the Szarr Manor prominently hung on the walls. Their subjects long gone, they now serve to be viewed by those who would be their victims under different circumstances.

Octavia stops at one of the many paintings of a pale elf, his silver hair in perfect tendrils, piercing red eyes glare back at her and she feels a slight shudder run down her spine, it was probably just a little bit of nerves. Still, she couldn't help but notice that same subject surrounding her in other works. If not as the main feature, but in the background of at least a dozen. Who was this person? She drifts off in thought.

"Miss Octavia? Hello? Can you hear me?" Snapping back from the daydream, she sees Gale standing beside her. His positive attitude ever present, notebook in hand he greets her with a small wave. "Lots to do this morning! We got a delivery of religious artifacts from a Sharran temple in the Underdark that was previously thought to be lost." His eyes glimmer with excitement.

"We're looking at at least a day to see what was delivered, another to catalog it all, and then, my favorite part, writing the plaques for all of it." He chuckles "Altogether at least a month of work, maybe two if there's a particular item that's more mysterious than the others." He finishes his explanation with a tilt of his head.

Octavia nods, her mind still on the portrait, "Quick question, Gale? Do you know who that subject is? They're featured in a lot of the paintings, but there's no information about them?" He glances up, "Well, we've done some research into the subjects of all the paintings, luckily we've put some names to faces..." He trails off, brows furrowing slightly at the face staring at them both "that particular subject, though, unfortunately not."

He turns wearing a wistful smile "I do wish to put a name to that face, and I intend to, but our wonderful curator often reminds me that not every mystery has to be solved." He scoffs with a grin and shrugs "Of course he would, he loves to give me a hard time about my dedication to the museum, you'd think he would appreciate the tireless research but to each their own."

Octavia relaxes a bit and ask "Have you known each other long? I mean, since he's been gone this whole time I haven't gotten to meet him yet. Is he....nice?" She says the last word quietly, almost a whisper.

Gale picks up on the anxious question and lowers his notebook, his eyes softened as he leans in, "There's nothing to be nervous about with him, he's much more bark than bite, as they say. He's really wonderful once you get to know him. Just a little rough around the edges...you know these eccentrics..they're all so guarded but deep down, they're just like us regular boring people."

He grins in assurance and goes back to his notebook, "Before I forget, said eccentric has reached back out to me and he'll be returning tomorrow evening! He'd like to make your acquaintance as soon as possible and apologize for his absence." Oh, shit. "Wonderful!" She does an okay job at hiding the crack in her voice, she clears throat, grimaces a bit and adjusts the badge clipped to her smock. "When and where?"

[parvulous-writings]

Miasma // Halsin x Reader

Summary: Halsin's rescue of Thaniel goes drastically wrong. Gender Neutral reader (they/them pronouns where they had to be used)

Warnings: Angst, character death, no resolution/comfort. Depictions of grief, anger. Violence. Wonky pacing, maybe? Unresolved ending, also - sorry for the hurt in advance!

Words: 3.7K

Notes:  My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!

"The magic is delicate." Halsin had warned - the words now rang in your mind like a knell. "I will need your help if I am to survive- the portal will sap my strength." You had vowed to aid him - to defend the portal that Silvanus had helped him to create. And you had tried. You'd thrown almost every spell that you knew into the shrouded, cursed dark that surrounded your party and the portal, done near everything you could think of to keep the danger at bay. But, somehow, it wasn't enough. Something had gotten through your defenses, though you could barely recall what exactly it was. An arrow? A crow, touched and warped by shadow? The more you dwelled upon the thought, the more your chest began to tighten. What did it matter, what it was that ruptured the portal and caused it's premature collapse? No matter the form of the assailant, it did nothing to change the chain of events that had since then transpired. A gentle voice breaks you from your spiralling thoughts; "At least he is with Lady Shar, if nothing else..." You feel your face contort into a scowl at Shadowheart's words - Halsin was not a worshipper of Shar, why would he be happy that he is with the lady of sorrow? If anything, you thought, it would enrage him that the one who's shadows had laid claim to him, was the one he would be 'with'. But you say nothing to Shadowheart, you know for a fact that the only things that would pass your lips would be words of venomous spite. Not that you didn't like Shadowheart - you were actually quite fond of her, she usually would say things how they were, without sugar-coating them. But in this instance, using the name of Lady Shar to try and bring you some false comfort only made you feel worse.

The trek back to camp was coated in a stony silence. The rest of the party were waiting for you to say something, some words of wisdom or hope, but you said nothing. You did not wish to speak. All you wanted to do was ignore the grief that had settled into your heart. To shove it down, and ignore it. But you couldn't. You and Halsin had become close after you and your rag-tag team of friends had saved the Emerald Grove from the goblins. He had given you advice on how to get to Moonrise Towers, and had offered his aid on the journey. Of course, you had said yes - initially because you knew you'd need all the help that you could get, but as time wore on, and you spent night after night talking with him, you couldn't deny the fact that it was starting to feel like something more was blooming between the pair of you - and Halsin refused to deny it either. Though nothing between you and the druid had been made official to the others, he had told you time and time again; 'When I have righted what has been wronged, and the Shadow curse lifted... Then, we can focus on one another, my heart.' You had thought about those words often - they had spurred you on when you had first entered the shadow cursed lands, knowing that this, this was the place where you could finally end Halsin's century of distress, and fretting.

And yet it had all gone wrong in an instant.

The silence had followed your group into camp, and settled itself amongst you all as if it were a friend, and not some unwanted and unwelcome state. Even Astarion had stopped his quipping and teasing upon seeing your dour expression. He had never seen you in such a state - not even when he had accidentally woken you when he had gone to feed on you one night, almost three months ago at this point. That night you had been mildly disgusted initially, but you were definitely willing to let him feed from you if it was going to help his prowess in battle. You had been optimistic, in truth, despite the dangers. That was something about you that was always apparent, and always had been. Though some of your travelling companions had thought you... Not all there, at first, you had managed to prove quite a few times that you were persistent enough to almost always pull through.

You had made a direct line for your tent, ignoring the attempts of Karlach to approach you, and hopefully comfort you a little bit. The fabric flaps drew together behind you as you retired to your one place of isolation. The tiefling was confused, and a mite hurt, at the fact that you had just completely blanked her. You had never done that before - the worst you had ever done was tell her to stay in camp for a while, and more often than not, you had good reason to do so. Her gaze fell upon Wyll and Shadowheart, two of the companions who had set off with you that morning, before she began to march over, determined to know who or what caused you to become so withdrawn. "What the hells happened out there?!" Karlach could hardly contain the irritation that bubbled in her chest, spilling into her voice. Wyll was the first to speak, his face a mask of self-reproach. "Halsin was trying to retrieve Thaniel - the spirit of these lands..." He began to explain, glancing briefly to Shadowheart, who's lips were fixed in a clear frown. "Right..." Karlach said slowly, "... I'm assuming something went wrong, by the look on everyone's faces..." "... We weren't able to defend the portal he had entered entirely... It collapsed, and... He's gone." Karlach's face fell as it all clicked into place in her mind. That's why you were acting so strange. "... Oh." Was all she could manage. She couldn't even muster up any rage at the circumstance, she was just stunned. She hadn't had a chance to get really close to Halsin, but he was a nice guy, there was no denying it. He had been courteous to all of them - a kind hearted soul, who always lent an ear to anyone who needed it. To Karlach, he had been a good laugh. Most evenings, on the short walk back to their tents, she and him would share a good few jokes with one another before retiring to rest. The loss of the druid would weigh heavily on her, though not as heavily as it would do you. Wyll cleared his throat, glancing towards your tent. "I think I may try and speak with them..." Shadowheart scoffed at this, causing Wyll's head to turn. "Good luck," Were the only words that the half-elf offered him, her voice dripping with sarcasm, before she turned away, marching herself right back to her tent to isolate herself for a while. Karlach followed suit, with nothing of meaning left to say. She meandered back to her own tent, seeking to settle herself down in the mountain of various pillows she had stored in there, to have a good cry.

Wyll did not return to his tent, however. Like he had said, he was going to try and talk with you. Try being the operative word. There had been a handful of times that you hadn't exactly been open to talking with anyone, and Wyll fully expected to be one of those times. He tried to peer through the tiny gap left between the flaps that marked the entrance to your tent, but to no avail. He cleared his throat quietly to announce his presence - but there was no answer from him. He carefully parted the fabric before him, crouching down a bit to get closer to you. Your tent was the smallest out of the whole group's, purely for the reason that, before the adventure began, you didn't have a lot to bring with you. Even now, with so much more to your name, you are more likely to leave some of your belongings with your fellow party members. "Go away." Your voice was low, not quite a threat, but close. "I don't want to talk to anyone, about anything. Leave me be." "You know," Wyll began to speak, completely ignoring your request, "I don't think Halsin would want you to spend any time moping after him..." You started to push yourself up into a seated position. Even in the dark, Wyll could imagine the look on your face; a deep set scowl, eyes narrowed and glaring daggers at the perpetrator who dared disturbed your 'peace'. In this case, of course, that was him. "You have no right to-" "Yes, I do." Wyll's voice was calm, despite your ire. "I'm your friend - one of your closest by your own admission, if I remember rightly..." He said as he crawled into the tent to join you - in the hopes of making you feel a little bit less alone. "I know you and Halsin were close..." Close wasn't exactly the word that the warlock had in mind, but he didn't want to rub salt in the wound. You had lost a man that you loved, and Wyll knew that grief wasn't an easy thing to deal with. "But, we did what we could - defended him and that portal as much as we were able to... He didn't ask for anything more..." "But he did - he asked us for his help to heal the-" "I know... But that was before we got overwhelmed by shadow-cursed harpers, and Gods know what else..." Wyll interrupted. "We did what we could, and he'd be happy with that... Even if we didn't manage to heal the curse..." His voice was tinged with a hint of sadness, despite trying to ease your pain. "He wouldn't want you to sit here, isolating yourself as punishment... But I understand you need time to mourn.. So, how about, tomorrow morning, you and I go for a walk around the outskirts of camp? We can talk all things Halsin.." You consider it for a moment, before nodding quietly. "Good.." Wyll smiled in response to your acceptance - there were times when you could be extraordinarily stubborn. He'd seen it himself at various points on your adventure together, and he was quite glad that he didn't have to be on the receiving end of it. "I'll bring your dinner to you, if you'd prefer not to join the rest of us..." You nod again, and Wyll begins to shuffle out of your tent, leaving you be for the evening.

You didn't join the others for food that evening - not that there was much to join. The group sat mostly in silence as they ate, all starting to feel the absence of their druidic friend. Lae'zel did try to make conversation, having found that her ideals didn't exactly align with Halsin's, she didn't get as close to him as some of the other had done in the same time. However, no one could find it in them to respond, besides Astarion, who snapped at her to stop talking for a moment. Even he was feeling down about the loss of Halsin - even if he had only grown 'fond' of the wood elf because he found him amusing. But the time night had fallen - or at least, what the group had all assumed to be night, as both night and day looked eerily the same under the shadowcurse - everyone had returned to their tents to rest.

The night - like so many before that you had all spent in the shadow-cursed lands - was cold, and very very quiet. The dead branches of various trees clashing against one another were the only sounds to be heard. No birdsong could be heard for miles. That was unless you counted the raspy sounds from the undead birds that sometimes came close to camp. They'd scurry away before they got too close, though. But there was something, off in the distance, that was slowly making it's way closer and closer to camp. Of course, no one was really aware of it until it was right on your doorstep. You had initially thought that the heavy footfall approaching your tent in the middle of your rest was Karlach - she'd often come over to you after a long, hard day. "Karlach," You spoke, your voice slightly muffled against the rough material of your makeshift pillow. "Now really isn't a good time.. Go back to your own tent." You expected to hear the footsteps retreating after this. Karlach was never one to try and encroach your personal space, especially after such a blunt request. However, this wasn't the case with this now unknown intruder. Something twigged in your mind that this might not be someone who meant well. Either that, or Karlach really wanted to have some company. You started to push yourself up onto your elbows, and when your eyes finally managed to focus on the figure slowly starting to crawl it's way into your tent, you could have sworn you heart stopped.

Halsin.

Immediately you were alert - were you still dreaming? No, you couldn't be, it didn't feel... Fuzzy enough, to be a dream. But it never feels like a dream when you're in the middle of it. You hurriedly push yourself into a more upright position, trying to kick the raggedy blankets off of your legs for more freedom of movement. "Halsin-" Your voice caught in your throat, leaving it as little more than a mousey squeak. Your chest felt tight, heavy. For a brief moment, there was a flicker of hope - he was alive! But as your eyes began to focus on the massive form of your once lover, you began to notice that some things were amiss. There were clusters and clumps of some dark mass, something not quite natural. Some of the clumps glowed and flickered with an eerie and dim bluish light, casting a foreboding shadow over your beloved's stoic - and entirely too-still - features. You recognised those growths - the telltale calling card of the shadows when they had wrenched their claws so deep into a living thing that nothing but a husk remained. You had seen it earlier that day; the hundreds of undead harpers, githyanki, dogs and birds that had assaulted you, your party, and the portal that had undone everything for you. The last stage before the host of the growths was devoured, and became nothing more than a shadow doomed to roam the desolated town, caught entirely in their own pain and grief. Though, the thought of that final form was pushed to the very back of your mind just at the moment it had popped in. Surely, though, if Halsin had managed to find your camp, there must be something of him left in there? As soon as the thought crosses your mind, you've moved to rest on your knees, bringing your face closer to his. "Halsin, you're alright..." There's something screaming at you in the back of your mind, telling you that this isn't right, that something is dreadfully, dreadfully wrong, but you elect to ignore it. For once, you just wanted to try and focus on the positive side. "You..." You couldn't quite place what it was about Halsin's voice that felt off to you - was it too deep? Too scratchy? Who cares, he's here, he's home. You didn't have to bear with that godsawful weight in your chest anymore, you could just move on, and think of this whole affair as nothing more than a blip on your adventure. You open your mouth to speak, but Halsin beats you to it. "Failed." His voice was so low it almost sounded like the chords in his throat were rupturing as the words left his lips - or perhaps they already had. It hits you like a stone to the head, and you freeze in place, paralysed by the realisation you should have had much earlier. This was not a dream, and Halsin was in front of you, but, he had been corrupted. Whatever drive he had to get back to you - whether it had originally been love, lust or something else - had now been twisted into something sick, something that longed to make you suffer as it was.

Before you could even open your mouth to respond, a thick hand was wrapping around your throat - squeezing, constricting, cutting off your air and your ability to cry out for help. Your hands dart to his wrist to try and alleviate some of the pressure, but you know that there's almost no point. With Halsin's great size, came great strength - you wouldn't be able to easily escape from this, he had the upper hand. You try anyway, clawing at his hand and forearm like a wild animal, trying to break skin and hurt him enough to have him flinch away from you. But that moment never comes. In fact, you could swear that he's applying more pressure to your throat. "Don't. Struggle." The grating voice of Halsin growls at you. You try to tell yourself that it's not him, but of course... the face looming above you would convince yourself otherwise. With the corners of your vision starting to blur and fade, you grow desperate. You begin to thrash and kick at him - and you manage to land a few good blows to the undead elf's ribs and stomach, not that it made much difference to the beast of a druid. You think at one point one of your feet dislodges a pole keeping your tent upright. At least, that seems to be the reasonable explanation for the structure collapsing on the both of you, obscuring your view even more. Your kicks start to weaken as Halsin applies even more pressure to your windpipe, obviously intent on robbing you entirely of your ability to breathe. You stop moving - in part to try and conserve what little oxygen you have left, but also because... What's the point in struggling against Halsin? Not only was he much stronger than you, but he was also... Right. You had failed him, despite the fact that you had tried your damndest to complete the task he had set you. Though it broke your hear to admit it to yourself, there was little you could do to deny it, even with the discussion you had had with Wyll earlier that night.

You had just about given in to the inevitable fate set before you, when the weight pressing down on your neck was just... Gone. You immediately sat up, spluttering as air finally reached your lungs, making you feel light-headed, but promising your survival. "Get the fuck away from them!" Karlach's roar was unmistakable as your scurried to pull the fabric of your tent off of your head to see what was going on; Karlach, greatsword in hand, was moving to swing at the corrupted Halsin - whilst Lae'zel, a determined look on her face, was mere moments away from doing the same, marching over from her own tent to join the fray. Gale was by your side in an instant, grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet. "Come, quickly," He ushered you over to his tent as he spoke. "Inside, Shadowheart will check you over in a moment," His gaze turned back to Karlach, Lae'zel and Halsin for a moment, watching as the Tiefling and Githyanki lay blow after blow into the flesh of the thing that had tried to kill you. They were only just able to keep him on his knees, and it looked like his skin was shredding where he had been hit. His only sounds acknowledging that he was being attacked were grunts of effort as he tried to through off their hits and get back to his feet - which did not work. He wasn't even bleeding; a greenish-blue liquid dripped languidly from his newly-formed wounds.

"Stop looking, you don't need to see this." Gale told you firmly, taking your shoulder and guiding you more forcibly into the tent. "That's not him, anymore... You know that, yes?" He tries to soothe you. "That wasn't Halsin - just an... Echo of him, if that." Despite his kind words, tears begin to streak down your cheeks. You feel Gale's arms wrap around you, and your legs give out for a moment. You can't do this. It's too much. How is one person meant to handle all of this - the mindflayer tadpoles, the fate and wellbeing of their companions, helping as many people as they can on the way through the environs they must travel - and still walk tall? It is too much of a weight, a burden you can no longer carry. This overwhelming grief is just the straw that breaks the Rothe's back. You don't remember much of what happens after that - besides the sobs that start to wrack your body, making you heave with each breath. Gale lowers you to the floor, and you can vaguely hear him saying something to you, though you can't quite make out the words. You don't try to figure out what they are, though. You just want this to stop - for the emotions that feel too big for your body to just cease, and leave you in peace.

Your companions come and go throughout the night, each taking a turn to sit with you, to try and soothe your sorrows. Nothing really works. After many hours - though it feels like days to you - the tears finally stop falling. You're exhausted, and can't bring yourself to move off of Gale's bedroll; and no one dares to try anyway. It's Wyll who's with you as you finally drift off into an exhausted sleep. He doesn't move to tell the others, though, in case you should wake and need his company. A frown is etched into his features as he watches you - he knows all too well how much this grief can tear someone apart from the inside. He makes sure that you've got a blanket over your shoulders to keep you warm. "Don't you worry... You'll still have us," He whispers, not even caring if you can't hear him. "No matter what, we'll stick by you... And we'll get you through this. For Halsin's sake, not just for yours..."

The druid would have wanted that much for his lover, at least.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Newly Made Man

Draco Malfoy x Professor!Reader

Inspired by this post, which is originally drawn by Antenna

Summary: Ivy, Daniel, and Olive (Weasley) have asked for you help catching a ferret. You needed an excuse to not do some paper work. Who knew helping a gaggle of kids could lead to a date

“Professor! Professor Professor Professor-!” You would hear the gaggle of students call for you. They always seem to find you whenever you weren’t busy. A mysterious talent they held. As if you would complain. You were once a Hogwarts student as well. You liked the adventure.

“Yes? Ah, you three.” You chuckled, as you saw the trio show up. A pair of red heads, and that silvery violet, right in front of you. The trio looked rather excited. Daniel seemed more so frustrated, Ivy curious, and Miss Olive had that look in her eyes that reminded you so much of the twins. You could only assume something will blow up soon.

“There’s a ferret, and it stole Daniel’s bag-!” Olive would inform you. That had Ivy giggle, as Daniel was getting more and more frustrated. The boy didn’t have the best family life. That bag was nearly all he had to call to his name, after all.

“Oh dear. We can’t have that, can we? Where was it last-“ Before you could even finish the sentence, something skittered between your legs. A clinking bag was being dragged in its mouth, as it ran. The clinking sounds had to be potions, which meant it was Daniel’s. Such a white blur.

“AFTER THAT RAT-!” The red heads screamed, as Ivy tried to clarify it was actually more closely related to a dog or cat than a rat. Jeez, whoever could be the Hermione of that trio?

With a fond smile, you were soon chasing after them. It was rather nostalgic. It reminded you so much of your days as a student. Having Hermione, Ron, and Harry chase after the likes of Malfoy. How often times many a fellow student would tag along, and it was almost a big game between everyone. Almost like capture the flag if you will. Never thought you would miss something like that.

“WATCH OUT-!” Was soon shouted by you, but they were moving too fast. The trio crashed right into a gaggle of other students. They were all in a clump, and groaning. You wanted to assign, but you didn’t want that ferret out of sight.

“IVE GOT IT-!” You reassured, as you kept chasing the creature. You wanted to try and fast a spell, but it seemed to zig zag infront of you. As if aware that you would attempt such actions. Might not be the first time this little devil caused some mayhem. Perhaps it was a students pet? Would explain why it seemed to know where it was going. Managing to avoid dead ends, and not go where there were stairs to slow it down.

“Will you get back here?!” You huffed, as it finally found a place to hide with the bag. Nice and cozy in a tree, at a familiar courtyard. Just snuggled into the branch. Taking a little yawn. As if bored, and ready to slip. Such a mocking thing. Having the bag just out of your reach.

“I swear, every white haired creature I deal with is a pain in the butt. One way, or another.” You huffed, as you just swore the ferret rolled its eyes at you. Seeming to not take your comment too lightly.

“What would you even need a potion bag for? Gonna make some potions?” You would say to the ferret. Wand in hand, and sass on full dial. Sure had the students in the court yard giggle at you.

“Where is your owner?” You asked, as if expecting an answer back. That’s when you looked around. Hufflepuff’s! They should know! Or at least know someone who would.

“Do you know who this ferret belongs to?” You would ask the students around you. After a few thoughts, and whispers, they all shook their heads. No one knew. How strange. White ferret’s aren’t uncommon, so you figured that someone would.

“This school certainly isn’t showing itself to have a good track record with ferrets. Huh? Hope you aren’t another turned student, who played dirty with the wrong crowd.” The knowing tone made said ferret stick its tiny tongue out at you.

“Sassy like the last one too.” A wag of your wand was given, as you were ready to try and cast a spell to get the bag back. Maybe it was something in your tone, but it seemed the ferret had enough play for one day. With its tiny nose, it would nudge the bag off the branch. Narrowly managed to understand what it was doing, and grabbed said bag. As if you needed potions to explode.

“Thank you.” You would give a dramatic bow, as if with a Hippogriff. Another stick of its tongue, before it took its chance to jump on you. Ran right all over your body, before curling around your neck. As if a little scarf. Wet little nose nuzzled your cheek, before it was ready for its nap.

“Cuter than the one I knew to.” You would give it a gentle pet, before going to try and hunt down those students. Quit the sporting look you held now. A pretty little neck piece, that was as blinding white as the clouds in the sky.

Was a rather peaceful walk, you couldn’t deny it. Just enjoying the fresh air. Along with having a companion to snuggle with. Tiny scratches to its little chin. Gave you happy chirps in return.

“Adorable thing. You remind me a lot of a companion I had in school. His name was Draco. Draco Malfoy. Prettiest man I had ever seen. So handsome, and sly. I wonder what life would have been like, if there was no war. So many confusing emotions at the time. Can’t love the enemy, as they say.” You sighed, as the ferret gave your cheek a little lick. As if to comfort you. It was accepted, as you gently brushed your finger down its spine.

“My bag-!” Daniel was quick to point out, and hardly gave you time to register he found you. It was in his hands again. Left to be hugged tightly. Certainly gave him a scare. Ivy was quick to pat his back, while Olive gave the ferret a suspicious stare.

“…….You look familiar-“ She muttered, only for the ferret to quickly hide itself in your robes. Made you giggle, as its little paws ran around your body. Poor thing seemed startled. Olive did have that effect. She was the daughter of George Weasley. That certainly made her friends of peeves. That alone says it all.

“Coward.” Another mumble was tossed, before she would give Daniel’s head a ruffle. The poor boys, pun intended, bag was returned. One of the few things he could call his own. A relief it was. That’s for sure.

“Thank you Professor…” Daniel sighed, as you nodded. Anything for the students.

“Does the ferret belong to anyone?” Ivy would ask, as you would get said rascal into your hands. Just dangling him around, as he looked at you with big silvery eyes.

“None of the Hufflepuffs I asked knew. Seems far too intelligent to just be a wild stray either. Seems well aware of the Hogwarts grounds as well-“ Before you finished, Olive stared daggers at the white furred menace. You heard of the story about the family rat, so you don’t blame her being anxious around creatures. Yet, that was a Weasley stare. A stare that could pull the truth out of you like any Veritaserum.

“Animagus…..And one that I know. Come on, Uncle D-!” She would poke at the ferrets little tushy. Made the small thing give a chirp of annoyance, as you blinked. Uncle D-? Uncle….No. White fur, silver eyes, knowing the Hogwarts layout….

The moment you dropped him, it was a whisper of black and white. As if a swirling mist. All the thematics, to show a slender figure in its wake. With long bleached hair, a tight black attire, with a silvery under bust to ever keep him tall and slender. If it wasn’t for that playful smile you would think it was Lucius.

“For a Weasley, you certainly know how to ruin the fun.” He scoffed at Olive, as she stuck her tongue out at him. Left you all a fluster. Given said ferret had been nuzzling and licking you, and the little secret you spilled.

“Woah…..Draco Malfoy….” Daniel was wide eyed. Of course he would. He himself was a potion prodigy. Much like the Weasley twins, and Draco, were when his age. It can’t help being admire. Sure fueled the man’s ego.

“And why is a Malfoy stealing random children’s bags?” You would puzzle, as he seemed to cringe at such a name. Lucius did make sure it was tainted. That was for certain.

“It’s Black, actually. Draco Black. Took on my mother’s maiden name, for obvious reasons.” He would grit. “-And as for the bag. Well, I was curious. Is curiosity a crime?” Ever the sassy one. Had you roll your eyes, as you jabbed him with your wand.

“Ow ow-! Ok, I did it because….I…Well-“ He swallowed, as the trio were wondering why a grown man would do such a thing. That is, until Olive started to giggle.

“You thought it was funny, huh? That’s something dad would do!” She kept giggling, as he was pink on the face. Guess Draco wanted to be a little bit normal, for once. Actually do pranks, and be childish. Least, that’s what you are getting. Olive did call him Uncle D. It had been so long since you last saw him. You swore he was sentence to Azkaban. Suppose it’s time to catch up.

“Tell him, and you are dead-“ He threatened, as Ivy soon had her wand drawn. Taking the threat rather literal. Had the older man throw his hands in mock defeat, at such a gesture.

“I’ll deal with him, you three hurry off now. It’s almost lunch. Go on-!” You would shoo, as they ran off. Daniel holding his bag tighter, Ivy with a scowl to the older man, and Olive with a two finger salute.

“So……Seems like you finally got along with those red heads…..” You said, as you started walking. He didn’t refuse the motion, and walked with you.

“It’s complicated…..I rather avoid the details. Potter was able to make sure my mother and I avoided Azkaban, and community service was applied instead. Thanks to Po….Harry-“ He would begin to explain his story to you, as you both walked.

A case of laying low, and rebuilding himself. A hard thing to do, given where his father was position in the death eater group. Regardless, you were happy for him. Suppose some exposure therapy to Harry’s family and friends was what he needed.

“Welcome back, than……It’s lunch time, so…..” You trailed off, as he stared at you with shock. Were you asking him out? Why? His name isn’t exactly clean, but well….You missed him. You knew that, deep down, he wasn’t truly a death eater. You do what you can to survive, and sometimes who you survive from is your own family.

“You are insane….Fortunately that was always something I admired about you, back then…..I’ll cover the meal. We-…George pays his employees rather well.” He admits, as you giggled. A smile was returned, as the two of you would make a right instead of a left. Not heading to that great hall, but that rebuilt wooden bridge. To go give Madam Rosemerta a friendly hello.

He’s a new man, after all, so why not allow for a new first impression?

[moony-2001]

Lore Olympus ch. 257-262 critique pt. 2

Aaaand we're back

Ch. 260

Hermes, Hebe, and trauma dumping

Jumping right into it, Hermes pissed me right the fuck off. I don't know why Demeter didn't want to accept the aid from the underworld, but I'm sure pride must be some of it. But for Hermes to call it an "in-law tiffy-tiff" was beyond wrong. I don't know or remember what, if any, beef he has with Demeter but read the fucking room, man.

I'm so glad Demeter took Hebe in though, like the absolute Queen that she is. One thing that disturbed me a little when Hebe and Demeter got to talking is how Rachel tries to pass off Hera's trauma dumping on Hebe as if it's nothing.

First of all, 18-year-olds are still kids. I know (at least for the vast majority here in the US) that 18 is the legal age of adulthood, but the human brain doesn't finish developing until around age 25. Even if that's how the rules in LO work (I have a sneaking suspicion they're not though, seeing as Persephone is technically stuck at age 19 for the rest of time) Hebe is 7 years off from having a fully developed brain.

Additionally, I don't like how Rachel frames the idea that Hebe found out all of this information from her mother as a now 18-year-old. I don't know if Rachel is forgetting her own damn timeline (not that there was a cohesive one in the first place) but Hebe wouldn't have been 18 at the time of finding out this information.

Remember the 10-year time skip? Yeah, that whole thing? And how 5 of the 6 Traitors were in a coma? For 10 years? In case you haven't picked up what I'm trying to put down, Hebe was 8 years old when her mother went into that coma. Which means that Hera dumped all this information on a literal fucking child who was 8 or potentially even younger since we have no frame of reference for when Hebe was told this information.

Demeter is right. It is wrong to burden your kids with that. I don't know Rachel, but from this writing, I would venture a guess that she's never had a parent trauma dump on her.

I have. Rachel has no idea how mentally taxing it is to have a parent trauma dump on you or have them drag you into the middle of their fights or vent about their spouse/your other parent to you behind their back. That is not something a parent should EVER do to a child and I'll be damned if I ever do that to mine.

And while there is a shred of truth to what Hebe is saying, about how that information helps her understand her mom, Hebe does not (and in fact should not) be part of her mother's journey to work on herself, especially at that young of an age. Your child is not your therapist.

Demophon, the not child of Demeter

I will say, I am glad that Demeter finally decided to open up to her somewhat adult daughter. Oh, what's this? Persephone looks upset and-

😀😐

of-fucking-course

Is this it?? Is this the moment when we finally find out what happened to Demeter in Attica all those years ago-

Anyway, what we find out is that while in Attica, Demeter supposedly fell in love with the King of Eleusis and had Demophon, a my little pony-looking abomination not worse than whatever the fuck the above pictures are supposed to be. But if you note my title for this portion of the chapter, you'll see it says "the not child of Demeter". And that, dear readers, is because Demophon is in fact not a child of Demeter in the original myths. And Rachel also spelled his name wrong. (You can read more about him here: Demophon of Eleusis)

It seems to me that Rachel is doing what most couples with a failing relationship do: throw a baby at it and hope it will fix the problems.

What technicality? Do you mean the "technicality" that Demeter was punished for insubordination (regardless of her intentions) and lived as a mortal for 10 years? And during that time as a mortal had a son who was born as and died as a mortal? Forgive me if I'm being slow here, but I don't see what this "technicality" is supposed to be. How is Demophon's death any different from the mortals that Persephone killed and asked if it was possible to bring back?

I'm gonna sound a little nitpicky here, but Hades is the god of the dead (and wealth) not the god of death. Believe it or not, there is a difference, and the brushing aside of that difference is the reason why people still get Hades and Thanatos mixed up to this day. Plus does no one remember what happened to Asclepius when he figured out how to raise the dead? tl;dr: not good things.

I have a feeling that all this is happening because Persephone and Hades are trying to buy off Demeter. They want brownie points with the woman who is rightfully upset about everything that is happening right now. And I'll be willing to bet that this smooths things right over with her.

Ch. 261

Off-topic, Demeter looked really pretty in this chapter #standemeter

The "technicality" and Hades' BS

I am glad Demeter gets this small bit of happiness but also:

Nice try, but that's not how that works. Get your smug, ugly-ass mug out of here. Once again, why is Demophon the exception? Because you're whipped for Persephone? Because you want a gold star from your MIL who has perfectly valid reasons to not like you?

Ah. I guess his name is Triptolemus now. Triptolemus who is the older brother of Demophon. Who is also not a son of Demeter. Sure.

NO DON'T FALL FOR IT DEMETER. IT'S A TRAP-

The sisters

It is nice for the most part to see Hera, Demeter, and Hestia interacting. I don't think that's something we've seen outside of flashbacks.

I don't, however, like this interaction between Demeter and Hera:

Yeah, no, that's not how that works. Demeter has every right to be mad at you for helping Hades and Persephone get around the fact that they "violated the laws of Xenia (hospitality)". It doesn't matter if Persephone was a "wild card". Hera had no right to marry them.

In fact, I had a conversation with anoldplace and something we discussed is how much Hera's responsibility/involvement in Persades is kinda just... brushed off. Especially if you look back at the way early chapters (I'm talking s1 early) when Hera changes her tune from "wtf, that's so gross, what is wrong with you" to "Let me get this whole ball rolling". Persephone wouldn't have even had half the interactions she did with Hades had Hera not put her in that internship for the underworld. And Demeter doesn't even know about the early stuff. Think about how livid she would be if she found out Hera was pulling the strings from the beginning. Yikes.

Different topic but the fact that both Demeter and Persephone love to swim is cute.

Ch. 262

Jfc, finally. I'm so tired lol.

Hera's prophecy

In honor of Hera's ugly highlighter-looking color, the sections shall, too, be in yellow.

I was pretty excited to see that Hera got a vision. I'm also sad that this isn't something we see utilized more often in the series. In fact, we don't really see any of the goddesses use their powers besides... oh, for Christ's sake. I don't even want to say it, it just adds to her Mary Sue-ness.

Place your bets on how long it takes for Rachel to dress Persephone in something similar, if not identical, to this.

Moving on, we see Kronos smush and kinda throw Hera away and she's left wondering:

That's cute and all, but no. Like I huffed and puffed with the whole "attempted murder" bullshit with Zeus, for one to die, they must be mortal. If gods could die, they wouldn't be gods. They would be human looking at you Demophon. I understand why the sentiment of dying is upsetting, but Hera, Zeus, whomever cannot die. I suppose similar to Egyptian mythology, they could be chopped up and have their parts scattered to the winds but from what I've seen, there's nothing in Greek mythology that details anything like that.

I did see a really funky theory that I agree with that Hera must be some kind of fertility goddess. In fact, I've seen a lot of people speculate that she was the fertility goddess on the wall of that cave that was destroyed. It would be really wonderful if that greyed-out goddess in Hera's vision was her and not Persephone. Kinda like the ultimate "taking back the power" moment. But tbh I'm not hopeful.

Persephone and Hades... yay/s

*gag* anyway-

Hades decided to give the MORTAL Demophon his whole stash of ambrosia but he doesn't really know if it will actually work and he's salty that Zeus is stingy with it.

Okay, first of all, if it's that damn important that you have ambrosia and you're going to be a salty mofo that the only person who has it is stingy with it, make your own damn ambrosia. You're telling me you've been alive for thousands of years yet the thought hadn't occurred to you once? Bffr. Watch this come back and bite them in the ass in the series finale.

Secondly, if you've never done this before, how do you know it's going to work for Demophon? I mean, it probably will because plot armor, but seriously? What would happen if Demophon just kicked the bucket all over again? Like congratulations, you re-traumatized your wife's mother who already doesn't like you.

Final thoughts

This is all just unraveling so quickly. Watch Demophon disappear and never be addressed again. I am really hoping that this series wraps up between March and May like genericpuff predicted because I am tired. I mean, I'll miss the ability to make content while the material is still piping hot, but also reading this comic is taking a toll on my health. I have never seen my blood pressure in such a state. And I'm not even the one writing the comic.

I can't imagine being in Rachel's shoes rn. I know this point has been beaten to death by everyone and their moms (myself included), but it's so clear that Rachel just doesn't give a shit about this comic anymore. And it's sad. But I also get it.

Rachel has talked about after LO she wants to do a comic along the lines of this but involving Egyptian or Norse mythology. I hope she doesn't for very obvious reasons, but if she decides she wants to step up to the plate for what will inevitably be LO pt. 2, I hope she takes the time to actually research the cultures and learn from the very egregious mistakes that she made here. I won't be there if she does.

[tornoleander]

Wow, you're the beta reader for bbnb? I didn't know that. (So you can confirm that Hat is infact not dead because I haven't seen any activity from them in a while and my brain always jumps to worst case scenarios)

Anyway, definitely didn't forget to respond for like a week, but here are some of my theories/scenarios:

-I still think Cole's the one who'll remember bits and pieces because A. He's a ghost B. Hat used he/him when talking about who will remember and C. It would be incredibly emotionaly impactful

-HOWEVER, I think Pixal could also remember some stuff. None of the emotional stuff but she did technically die when Nadakhan erased her. Besides, it could be fun to see her try to let Jay or Nya know she remembers while still stuck to Zane.

-also Zane's falcon died but he was never mentioned in this fic so 😔

-Jay DEFINITELY has c-ptsd. Like, 100%, I'm sure the nurse/psychologist whose name I forgor would agree with me

-I'm pretty sure Wu just died by some falling island or something like that. Or he could've died by the storm, that would be cool.

-I know he said that swearing is a sign of weak verbal skills but I feel like Jay would start swearing more for comfort. Like, Nadakhan hated it but never truly did anything horrible to him because of it :)

most of the scenarios in my head play out with the ninja being captured again

-for example, Jay using his internal electricity to shock someone when they all have vengestone

-or them getting tazed and Jay sending the current back like he did in the electric chair

-or they're all traped and saying shit like "there's no other option" or something and Jay replying with "suicide's still an option" like that's a normal thing to say which obviously worries the others

And then there's the non captured scenarios

-something something Jay falling into autopilot after being told/asked to clean to ship and ends up also cleaning the hull "Why are you cleaning the bottom? We're in the air and you're not even tied to anything???" ".... trauma response?"

-or just straight up Jay having a panic attack out of seemingly sowhere (Cole said he wished he could eat cake again)

Anyway, those are the things I could think of right now, there's more but it's 3:39am and I'm tired :3

Hope it's not too long lol

Yep! As of ch 15. Me and hat have been chatting for a while and I bug them for feedback on Art accuracy so I help them with some writing corrections too!

I have been working on beta reading earlier chapters as well currently half way through 4. It is certainly an experience but now I yell my feelings into comment instead of just the void

*reaches through horrific horror to correct spelling mistake.

Yup Hat is alive! They were just fixated on something else for a while but they are back.

Ok now for scenarios

-Cole remembering bits……. I will refrain from giving my thoughts.

-Pixal and Zane’s falcon died pretty early so I do think they may remember up till then but It probably wouldn’t help understand much.

-I don’t think Wu died? But it’s not impossible.

-CPTSD?

I will ask hat about this one but seeing as bbnb events qualify as at least 4/6 of these causes of it AND ptsd is a tag I’m going to give it a yeah. Cause non complex ptsd is typically less prolonged.

-the swearing I do think he might do more but not necessarily for comfort

-For your head scenarios I am not sure all the ways hat is planned show how the events of the fic messed him up. But I know they’re a big fan of consequences for events…

From what I’m guessing he is going to be trying his best to hide everything and it’ll be somewhat canon compliant? But to be fair He is pretty consistently the most mentally unstable ninja. Take This with a big grain of salt I’m saving the analysis for my skybound video, but his behavior does generally line up well with SA surivers. the first time that Jays a prisoner post Skybound is when he says “You don’t argue with a man who’s navel is that close”

Which

Drives me insane by the way

Side tangent, I’ve been doing a lot of Skybound digging for my eventual video essay. And my current best theory on why this is a line has to do with SA of men being played for laughs.

Like older audiences are supposed to hear that and find it fucking funny. It’s unfortunately not uncommon in kids programming. My quest to best explain why S6 is so uncomfortable has been… enlightening. Terrified of approaching a controversial topic so I have been learning a-lot about approach and how to not be awful. But my fixation is being channeled led into the eventual Skybound video.

Hope I answered what you wanted to know and It wasn’t purely my Adhd rambling

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Hi Wendy, I hope you're doing great. I was wondering if I could request a small (husband)-South fic where the reader calls him in the middle of the night drunk asking for a ride because readers friend got arrested for drunk driving

Tysm ❤️

ABSOLUTELY, YOU CAN

DUIs: South Terano x Fem!Reader

wc: 737

tw: fluff

masterlist

There's a something buzzing in South's dreams.

Oddly enough, it sounds very persistent. But he's in the middle of something important, so he can't be bothered to--

It ceases, and South continues down the path in his dream, the same dark alley where he met Dino for the last time. Gun in hand, he feels around for the walls in the darkness, stepping carefully in puddles of warm water.

"You should've---" The rest of the noise is garbled, overshadowed by the consistent rumblings again. It's as if the dream is suddenly cut short as he's launched back into the realm of reality. South groans long and hard, easing up out of his sleeping position and into a sitting pose on the edge of the bed.

It's only 1 am.

The noise-maker vibrates hard once more, dropping to the floor where South spies it and picks it up carefully. Your name is flashing on the screen, and with a sudden haste he can't ignore, he answers the call.

"You still out?" South begins, but your voice is small and stuttering on the other end.

"South?"

"What's wrong, baby?"

"I n-need you to come and... pick me up."

"Are you in trouble?" South stands up as he speaks, looking around in the darkness for his shoes and a shirt.

"Lacey got arrested for drunk driving," you admit. South grits his teeth together, but sighs it out. Lacey would answer for why she had you in the car while drunk later. "Don't know where we are."

South doesn't panic at all. Thankfully, he still has an Air Tag on your wallet - something you were prone to losing - and he could locate you without too much effort.

"Just stay calm," he urges you gently. "And stay right there. I'm on my way."

"I'm really drunk; what if they take me, too?" South shakes his head as he starts up the car.

"They would've taken you along with your friend if that were the case." South puts you on speaker and locks in your location, and - though he'd never admit it - he speeds towards you.

You're not out too far, maybe only twenty minutes away, but when he pulls up on the scene, there are a few cops that turn his way. South gives them a stare that isn't entirely friendly as he steps out of the car and walks over to you.

"Are you her husband, sir?" one of the cops asks, and South nods once, pulling you close after placing his jacket around your shoulders, despite it not being cold. "Her friend is on the way to the county jail for the evening. She blew a--"

"I really don't care about that," he mutters, ushering you towards the car. South opens the passenger side door and helps you inside before closing it, then walking back to the driver's side.

"Anything else?" he asks the cops, who are just standing about like lazy children.

"Nope." South grunts and slides into his seat, starting up the car, and then backing out of the spot. The ride home is pretty quiet. It's not for lack of conversation, but you're nodding off, finally safe and warm in the car you love the most.

"Why didn't you bring the bike?" you pipe up as he stops at a red light.

"You can't hang on to me in your condition, babe."

"Oh, yeah..." you murmur, then slip back into your drowsy spell. Before the light turns green, you reach out to hold his hand, and he squeezes it gently. As the light changes, South presses a kiss to your knuckles, then continues on, driving in the darkness toward home.

Your gently awoken out of your sleep by South taking your shoes off, each falling to the ground unceremoniously. You're carried to the bedroom, where you lazily wrap your arms around South's neck and allow him to strip you out of the outfit he helped you pick out. Each touch is tender and loving, and when you're laid in the bed and tucked in, your arms reach out for him.

"Night," you mumble, and South leans into your embrace, kissing your cheeks over and over, making you giggle before you slip back into your much-needed slumber. It isn't long before he joins you in the bed, his arms wrapped around you carefully. And in his dreams, the darkness doesn't come back, not even a shadow.

[foxyarchive]

Glass in the Ocean[P1]

After your grandfather's unexpected death, you find yourself temporarily living with your grandmother until she can find someone else to help her run her shop.

You, and everyone else, have always been taught not to trust mers. Even with this information, you find yourself drawing closer to three mers who have kept themselves hidden from the local populace for years, now. The closer you grow to them, the more you begin to learn about them, and the more the truth begins to unravel.

Was originally supposed to be just some steamy fun times with the boys but I got carried away so there's plot now so it may move a bit fast :,) Hoping for weekly updates!

Cross Posted on AO3!

Warnings: Mention of family death, almost drowning(not really though)

Words: ~5.2k

Tags in the comments! Ask to be added to the taglist!

P1 | P2 | P3

The ocean had always been a force of nature you were afraid of testing your luck with. Tumultuous tornadoes or shrieking storms? Terrifying, sure, but nothing that really got the hair standing on the back of your neck quite like the thought of being lost to the yawning expanse of the sea. There was still so much that was unknown about it, after all. Not only that, but waters were extremely dangerous when filled with such a variety of life; Intelligent, too. 

Sharks were an issue to those who couldn’t keep to themselves. After all, they preferred to stay in their own waters, away from beaches where pesky people invading their space roamed and swam. Jellyfish could be terrifying in their own right, too, along with any seals that happened to be swimming too close and feeling a little too irate at those in the waters. All of those animals had one thing in common, though: Intelligence. Although the creatures held enough intelligence to make decisions of their own(and most were much smarter than humans assumed), most of them acted on instinct. They didn’t purposefully go out of their way to ruin your day, unless something spooked them enough to. Perhaps they were feeling a bit peckish as well– It’s only natural. 

No, the ones who purposefully sought a chance to absolutely fuck over your entire life were the mers. Cruel, intelligent creatures that loved to see nothing more than the suffering of landwalkers. They would pretend to play nice with you, inviting you in with the allure of wanting to learn more about yourself or the world beyond sea; Those that could speak the common coast tongue, at least. It was rare to find a mer who could actually speak any coast tongue, besides a couple of keywords; Namely, those were something like, ‘Help!’, or, ‘Save me!’. Another luring tactic, besides their ethereal looks. Mers were beautiful creatures in the eyes of many. Flawless skin with long, sleek, shimmering tails. It could be easy enough to trick humans into coming closer, and those allured enough fell right into their trap. 

Most mers only had their claws, inhuman strength, swim speed, and fangs, though. Thank God for that, as the very rare, known as ‘sirens’, had the ability to actually put some under a spell. Well, scientifically, it wasn’t actually, technically a spell. It wasn’t quite magic, after all, but the song apparently made chemicals in your brain flood enough dopamine to lure you towards the sensation. A heady, hazy mixture of lust and a false sense of security. Any sirens that were caught out were usually killed on sight. Not all mers were immediately killed, after all. Despite the fear humans had of them, and the staunch irritation, there was a certain balance to the ecosystem to be had… And certain prices to pay for killing a member of a pod. 

All in all, everyone was taught not to trust mers. You weren’t excluded from this, but you never found yourself taking all of these warnings too seriously just because you had no desire to go swimming in the ocean. Any beaches made specifically for human points to swim in were always well guarded by eco-disruptors, and even the occasional patrol boat set with a spear. Anything else beyond that, though? It was a risk to swim, especially alone. Luckily, some areas were less densely populated with mers, which made them booming vacation spots. 

You happened to be visiting one of those areas, but not for vacation. It was a more somber occasion, unfortunately, which would be followed by some work. Your grandfather had just unexpectedly passed away, and you were going to attend the funeral. Thankfully, your job allowed you to work from just about anywhere that had internet. Your grandparents had owned a small shop together after they retired to the coastside; A cute little building with beautiful glass blown and shaped figurines on the boardwalk. It had been something your grandmother loved doing, and you knew that closing it was the last thing she wanted to do. However, you knew she couldn’t keep it open herself. So, then, you decided that you’d help her out for a while until she found somebody who could work with her. 

You weren’t an expert in glass blowing or shaping, by any means, but you’d done it a few times before with her. She was going to take on the brunt of the molding, and you knew you’d only really would need to help with holding and blowing when necessary. It was something you could do between your actual job, so why not? 

It had been a long time since you’d visited the coast; At least, right up on the edge. Your grandmother had her own little house right along the coast, as did many others around here. Something your grandfather had managed to snag years ago, when you could practically buy homes with bubble gum and paperclips. The home was well maintained enough, even if it could use a fresh coat of paint and some reinforcing in parts of it(namely the balcony, some of the wood sagged just a bit too much). If you were handy at all, you’d probably offer to take it on as a side project when you weren’t doing glass blowing or your actual work, but you didn’t trust yourself in the slightest. 

The service was early in the morning. You had driven in the night before, shacking up with your grandmother in the spare bedroom, which you’d come to call home for at least the next week or so. Probably longer. After the service, there had been the reception, which left you rather stuffed full of food, tired of mingling with family you hadn’t seen for a long time, and just tired in general. Getting here had taken a lot out of you, and it wasn’t every day you were so social. It was nice to see some family members you hadn’t seen in awhile, and swapped cherished memories of your grandfather. By the time it was all over, though, you were exhausted. Your grandmother was still out, and your immediate family had invited you to come peruse the town with them, but you declined, too tired. Instead, you headed back to your temporary home to take a nap so you could have dinner with them later in the evening. 

Eyeing the bed as you undressed from your funeral wear, a sudden idea crossed your mind. Peering out of the window, you took in the warm, inviting sky. Blue with fluffy, wispy clouds, you decided on a whim that you would do something you hadn’t done in a long time: You’d go sunbathing. This place was free of mers, after all. The beach was totally safe– Maybe except for some crabs and birds, but you doubted anything was going to come pinching or nipping at you. Decidedly, you put on your swimwear, grabbing a towel and large brimmed sunhat. After lotioning, you put on some flipflops, walking down the small pathway carved into the cliff, down to the beach right outside of the house. It was a quick walk, even if a little unsteady due to the uneven nature of the stone’s cutting, but it was worth the price to have easy access to the beach. 

You walked a little ways from the staircase, opting for some privacy should anyone return to the house early. Last thing you wanted was some annoying cousins throwing bits of plants or rocks down on you if you were right by the staircase. There was a decent sized overhang a good distance from the stairs, forming an alcove, and although you didn’t move to lay under it(you were trying to sunbathe, after all), it offered you some sense of security for whatever reason. Maybe due in part to it technically being ‘shelter’. You rolled out your towel with a flourish, putting your flipflops aside as you settled down with a sigh. The ocean was still a good fifteen feet from you, and you doubted the tide was going to be rising up anytime soon. 

Already beginning to feel more sleepy due to the sun’s rays beaming down, you decided now was as good of a time as ever to finally get some rest. Laying back, you popped your earbuds in, flicking on a playlist. After turning it down reasonably enough, you took a moment to admire the gleaming beast in front of you. It stretched out far beyond your vision, sparkles shimmering atop the vast deep blue. The waves were gentle, foam softly curling up onto the beach, free of any clutter or weeds. A serene smile pulled onto your lips, and for a moment, you thought about possibly swimming later. It was something you rarely ever did, ocean or not, so… Why not do it now that you’ll be local for a bit?

That was definitely later, though. Right now? It was nap time. You laid back, placing the sunhat over your face so the sun wasn’t glaring right onto your closed eyelids. You just hoped there wouldn’t be a significant difference in tan from your face on the rest of your body. Any worries about that quickly vanished as you dozed off, lulled by the sound of your music, encompassing heat, and the faint sound of waves rolling in the distance. 

—

You weren’t entirely certain how long you’d been sleeping for. You didn’t wake naturally, either. The reason you had begun to stir was because you felt droplets on your legs. The comparing cold drew you from your slumber as it continued, making you grumble and shift. It stopped, briefly, and you just assumed that there had been some spray carried by the wind. As you began to drift off one more, it happened again. It felt a little more prominent this time; The drops were fatter, and definitely more annoying. Then, there was more, and it managed to spray across your stomach as well. 

That’s when you finally sighed out, deciding that the wind was not on your side. Grumbling, you spread your arms, back arching in tandem in one long, delicious stretch. A moan of appreciation left your lips, and you found the stretch was so good that you were briefly left winded afterwards. Opening your eyes, you peered up at the sun, grimacing as you held a hand up to shield your vision from it. Wait. Weren’t you wearing your sunhat? Did the wind sweep it away? You took a moment to rub your eyes with the heels of your palms, before sitting up, scanning the area when your vision cleared. 

There were two concerning things, immediately. The first was that you did see your hat, beginning to be pulled along further and further out to sea. The second, much more concerning thing, though, was the creature that was partially washed up on the beach. 

“Oh, f-fuck!” You scrambled, hastily, to your feet. Or, well, you tried to. Your ankles had gotten caught up, tangled in your towel, causing you to just plop right back on your ass in the sand. The mer partially lounging let out something that you were certain was a laugh, and you weren’t sure whether to be cross or terrified. A mix of both, perhaps, as your eyes landed back on it. It– He, you were certain– Was partially out of the water, looking quite lazy. Well, if at least one thing was true about mers, it was their beauty. 

You were certain this was the most attractive creature you’d ever laid eyes on. He was lean and muscled, skin lightly sunkissed in a sense where he had a faint tan, but still didn’t seem quite as tan as you’d heard other frequently breaching mers were. His jaw was sharp, and so were his cheekbones, and he had this roguish, very handsome smirk on his face as his eyes met with yours. They were a beautiful, alluring umber, adding to the gorgeously tousled mop of hair atop his head that was a slightly lighter shade. Although all of that was most certainly attractive… You found your eyes trailing downward, taking in the sight of his tail. 

Long and slick, you couldn’t see all of it, as half of it was still submerged in the water. What you did catch, though, was that his scales were a glossy navy blue with a pretty pattern of blue yonder interrupting them. It was then you noticed he had some scales on his ribs, as well as on his hands and cheeks. It didn’t make him look any less unattractive, though, and was it weird that you kept referring to him as attractive? Probably. He was a mer, but damned if he wasn’t hot. You didn’t even notice that his lips were moving until you spied the faint activity out of the corner of your eye. You couldn’t hear him, earbuds still softly playing music. 

“What?” You asked after you popped them out, trying to clear the haze from your mind that you convinced yourself was definitely shock and not anything else. He looked amused, lips curling up further, revealing a set of slightly sharpened teeth. 

“I said, if you take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Oh, God, he’d totally caught you ogling. He didn’t seem to mind, though; In fact, he was practically preening under the attention as he turned onto his back, stretching out his lithe form. His tail curled up from the water, briefly, and you caught sight of the beautiful fin at the end; Long and elegant, but still webbed and strong enough to where you were sure he was a formidable swimmer like his kin. “I can pose, if you’d like.” He turned his head to the side, accentuating his delicious jawbone, and you noticed now his ears were a bit pointed at the end, scaled as well. Your cheeks immediately heated up, and you found yourself stammering, trying to assure him that, no, you weren’t going to take any pictures and you totally didn’t feel super attracted to a mer. 

Before any of that came to your lips, though, a sudden realization hit you: He was talking to you. 

“Y… You speak coast tongue?” You asked, a little astounded. That was so rare for mers, especially in areas where so few of them resided. Apparently, there had been less than five spotted here in the past six years, which meant that there were none. And yet, you happened to find one on your first day here, and he spoke your language? What were the odds?

“No.” He replied, rolling onto his stomach. You noticed a small fin on his lower back that shivered a bit under the ocean’s breeze. He rested his head on his arm, drawing a pattern in the sand with slightly webbed hands as his eyes took you in. He looked like a big, lazy, content cat. Not a care in the world. There was another flash of merriment in his eyes as he noticed your confused expression, before he gave another soft laugh as you realized he was fucking with you. They really were intelligent beings…

“That’s your hat out there. Right?” He asked, pushing himself up with an elbow, jerking his head in the direction of your floating clothing article. Stupefied, you blinked, merely giving a nod of your head. You didn’t trust your words. Was this a dream? “I can get it for you. If you’d like.” You didn’t know how to respond. All you knew was one thing that kept creeping up in the back of your head: Never trust a mer. This was literally all the signs of a mer trying to garner your attention and lure you in, from what you recalled. Looking alluring. Playing nice. Asking questions. This was the biggest red flag if you’d ever seen one. 

Clearly, he could read the hesitation on your face, and he let out something between a scoff and a laugh. “I don’t have to. I was just offering. Is it so wrong to want to be nice?” Your gaze hardened a bit, and you brought your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. He was still a good fifteen feet away from you. Even if he tried to advance on you, you were certain that being able to run was in your books faster than he could drag himself ashore to you. Well… Mers did have inhuman strength, so… Maybe that wasn’t quite out of the books. 

“Okay. Go get it.” You finally agree, suspicion still heavy in your gaze as you take in his facial features. He looked a bit smug, before rolling over once, and then slid back into the water. Once he was settled in it, he was gone with a whisper, and all was quiet once more. Your gaze found your hat, much further now than it was before. Nothing was happening… Nothing until you blinked, and it was gone. You looked around for any sight of the mer, spotting nothing until you saw the faint glimmer beneath the waves. He broke water as quiet as a mouse compared to the rolling of waves in the distance and on shore, your now sodden sunhat in his hand. You frowned a bit at the sight. “You had to drag it underwater?”

He seemed wholly unimpressed with your comment, frowning himself, a faint look of irritation crossing his features. “You’re welcome.” Is what he replies with, scoffing as he holds it out in front of him whilst he pulls himself back onto the shore. The perturbed look on his face is quickly replaced with another grin as he spies your hesitation. “...If you want your hat back, you need to come get it from me.” He purrs, waving the sodden article in your direction. You grimace, feeling annoyed at the proposition. Of course. That was his game. 

“I’m not an idiot, you know.” You bite out, and he sets the hat down, tilting his head to the side. He has this adorable curl that crosses over his forehead with a few other strands. 

“I never implied you were.” He responds, smiling peacefully, and you glower. 

“Obviously you think I am, though. As soon as I come over there, you’re just going to drag me under with you. No shot.” You insist, and he clicks his tongue, offering an unimpressed roll of his eyes. 

“Really? Come on. I wouldn’t do that.” He insists, rounding his eyes in what you assume is supposed to be a more ‘innocent’ manner. “Why would I go all the way out to retrieve your lovely hat, only to immediately kill you? I think you’ll look lovely in it, wet or not.” He purrs again, curling his lips up once more, and your scowl deepens. 

“That was hardly a swim for you.” Comes your flat reply, body prickling in uncertainty. “It'd probably be the easiest meal you’d ever get.”  “Please, sweetheart. I wouldn’t want to eat you; I’ve already had lunch.” He narrows his eyes, and you shudder softly against your will as you notice the more carnal look in them. “...Unless, of course, you’d like to provide me with a treat. That would be probably the best ‘thank you’ I could get.” You consider that he really is talking about ravaging your body, until you realize his eyes are pointedly staring at your crotch between your pulled up legs. Then, his eyes travel to your lips, before meeting your own. A sudden heat travels through your body that leaves you holding a breath. He takes the opportunity to shift forward a bit more, and that immediately brings you out of your stupor. 

“J-Just throw the hat forward! Please…” You ask, voice trembling a bit from the combination of soft lust and fear crowding your mind. “Thank you for getting it, but I… I can’t… I don’t trust you. Surely you understand.” You insist, one of your hands coming down to grip the towel. His lips come to form a thin line, and you’re not so certain the dark look in his eyes is as lustful as it was before. Your time is definitely up, now, and you quickly scramble to your feet. You grab your earbuds, phone and towel, beginning to walk back the way you came, but his voice stops you. 

“Wait!” Looking back, you see that he’s tossed the hat a couple of feet from him, and he’s pulled himself back just a bit. His tail is further in the water than before, he’s peering at you, gaze brighter than before, but definitely more unreadable. “...I understand your distrust.” He relents, and you hesitate for the third time this meeting, uncertain if you should take the bait. You still had the advantage on land… Is your cute hat really worth risking your life, though?

You look back at him. He’s just watching you now, a sort of benign curiosity over his own features. Maybe… He was just as curious about you as you were him. Clearly he’s had contact with humans before, though. He wouldn’t be able to speak otherwise. This is all a trap. You convince yourself, body stiff as you consider what to do next. You could just order another one… But it was perfect for here and now. You could just buy more in town, though… 

You consider that your life isn’t worth risking over a hat. And yet, you find yourself placing your items on the ground, your feet slowly inching towards the wet article. The mer watches your every move, head low to the ground, and your eyes are following the way his tail twitches beneath the waves. You look at his hands. He’s rested his head on them now. That assuages some fears… Maybe he really wasn’t going to do anything. Was he so bored that he just wanted to see you closer? Use you for amusement? Perhaps. That wasn’t the most egregious sin, though… 

You’re finally close enough to the hat, slowly bending down to reach it, as if trying not to spook him. He doesn’t move. You grab the brim, slowly bringing it up. For a moment, you find yourself just looking at him, and he’s looking at you. He’s even more gorgeous close up, now that you notice all of the little freckles and imperfections that dot his face. The only other ‘imperfection’ you could find, if you could call any of it imperfect(which you really couldn’t), was the small scar gouged into his forehead.

For once, instead of fear or any sort of weird arousal, you feel… Awe. This dangerous, beautiful creature sits not five feet from you, drinking you him as you do him. He has a sort of boyish charm to him that is enough to make you test your own willpower and suppress yourself from reaching forward to brush your fingers through his hair. Comb back those hairs that curl in front of his eyes, brush your thumb across the beautiful scales on his cheek bones… 

Seems you’ve been enthralled, and you’re not quick enough to move as he suddenly lunges and grabs onto your wrist. You cry out in surprise, molasses quickly turning into a rapid stream as you try to pull away, but he’s strong. Dear God, is he strong. “I helped you. The least you can do is return the favor.” He finally speaks up, and that look of wonderment that was in his own eyes has vanished. He looks smug like before, smirk planted as he tugs you a bit closer. 

“P-Please, let go!” You cry out again, trying to wrench free to no avail. 

“I just want one, little thing, then I’ll let you go. I promise.” He insists, leaning up a bit, his eyes flashing with that same dangerous intent as before. When he was looking at you like you were his next meal. His ‘treat’. Another shudder wracks your body against your will, and you bite your lip. “Just a kiss. Only one. That’s it. Please?” He tilts his head to the side, eyes rounding a bit into something akin to a puppy. Oh, no… That was awfully convincing, especially with that heat still in his eyes. 

Okay. You had been a fool once, shame on you. But twice? You were not going to die here today. Most certainly, no kiss was worth dying for, and you knew better than to trust his words, now. His grip was painful, only because he was strong, but he didn’t claw at your arm or wrist, thankfully. 

“...If you let me go, I’ll kiss you.” You finally said, quietly, heart thundering in your chest. He seemed to contemplate this for a moment, eyeing you to try and find any deception. Finally, he pushed himself up a bit more, giving a small incline of his head in agreement. Slowly, he released your hand, letting it come to rest in front of his chest. You were so very grateful that the Lord had granted you the strength to go through with your plan and resist that very kissable face. 

As soon as he released you, you turned on foot and fled. Or, that’s what you tried to do, but he was so fast. He grabbed onto your ankle, jerking you back, and you fell with a painful gasp. A wheeze left your chest as you struggled for breath, but you realized you needed to struggle now to not be pulled into the water. He was beginning to drag you, laughing all the way, and you shrieked in fear, desperately trying to claw your hands into the sand. You were so, so stupid. Why the fuck would you do that? Why did you have to go back for your hat? Why did you have to stand there and admire him? 

“H-Help! P-Please, no! Let me go, let me go!” You shrieked, feeling hot tears begin to roll down your face as fear bloomed through your entire being. You tried to kick and pull, but he was easily able to evade your swats or keep you held tight. Whereas before, with your wrist, he was being careful, he most certainly was not with your ankle. You felt his nails digging into you, and you realized that this probably really was the end. Mers had the capability of releasing a neurotoxin that could easily make your mind and body go numb if enough was administered, and you were almost certain that was happening to you as you felt a cold flush through your system. You didn’t think it was the waves hitting your body, after all. 

“Stop! S-Stop, please, I– I’ll s-stay away, I promise!” You sobbed, feeling the water now up to your chest as you thrashed and pleaded with the mer. You wondered if he’d kill you here on shore, devour the best bits of you and leave your carcass to float along. At least then your family would know what happened to you. Perhaps, instead, he’d drag you further into the water, play with you until you just couldn’t fight back anymore, then he’d pull you down with him and drown you. Would it hurt? What did drowning feel like? All of these morbid thoughts floated into your mind as you fought and twisted and tried to claw at him, but nothing was working. You sputtered as water entered your mouth and nose, and your sob was bubbling as you once again shrieked hopelessly for help. 

This is it. There was a reason you didn’t you never wanted to fuck with the ocean, and yet you did. You had entirely fucked around, and now were finding out. What a fool you were. The shore was becoming further away, and you couldn’t let out anymore loud calls for help with water constantly invading your mouth, but you noticed he wasn’t drowning you. So… He was playing with his food first, then. Maybe you could do something about it. Catch him off guard. Go for the gills, or the eyes, or–

There was a whoosh beneath your body. Another bubbling shriek of terror left your lips, before something emerged behind you. There was an instant chittering of furious clicks that caught your ears, exchanged back and forth as you were tugged and pulled, and you suddenly realized there were two of them, now. Fuck. How many more were there? 

You expected to feel the rip and tear of your flesh, likely being fought over for food, but instead found the pressure around your ankle disappearing. You flounder, still feeling too paralyzed with fear and a hearty dose of adrenaline to make your limbs coordinate with what you wanted to do. There was a hiss, before you cried out again as an arm was wrapped around your torso, pulling you to another slick body. You fought and kicked, but all you stubbed your foot into was pure muscle of another mer tail. 

“Stop fighting me, please! I’m going to help you back to shore.” The voice piped up, sounding both a mixture of weary and fearful itself. 

“I can take her back; I was just messing around! I swear, I wasn’t gonna kill her!” Came the other mer’s voice, and although you noticed they sounded eerily similar, you pinpointed that one as the one that had dragged you. You fought and pushed against the mer holding onto you, but you did notice that you were being brought closer to the shore. You paddled as well, partially in an attempt to get away, partially to try and go faster, you figured. There was no response from one you were close to, but there didn’t need to be one. Soon, you felt your feet hit the sand, and you instantly pushed yourself away from him. 

It was a big of a slog to get through the water at your hips, but you managed probably the fastest you had ever done. You almost tripped once, but finally made it back to shore, chest heaving and ankle burning as you glanced behind you. You could see the mer that had dragged you out in the distance, a look of something akin to frustration on his face. What shocked you the most, though, was the mer that had taken you to shore. 

He looked just like the other mer. Identical down to the eye and hair color and facial features. The only real difference you could find was that he looked just a bit more pale, and his overall features were somehow a bit softer, his hair not as wild. You couldn’t see his tail, but from what you could gleam from the scales on his cheeks, they were a lighter blue. He watched you, a concerned look on his face as you backed away. Tears were still streaking down your cheeks, and you fought to keep walking, trembling as he swam a bit closer. “I’m sorry for what he did. If you’d let me explain–” He begins to speak, but you’ve most certainly had enough. 

You turn, leaving your stupid hat behind that got you into this mess in the first place. You have the forethought to grab your towel and phone, because they’re far enough away. You don’t put on your flipflops and don’t feel your earbuds tumble out of your towel as you hurry down the sand. There’s more angry clicks in the background which sends a chill right up your spine, but you don’t look back, even as they recede into the distance and vanish.

[library-ghoulette]

Under the Spell - Chapter 2/?

Pairing: Mary Goore x f!OC

Rating: Mature (mostly for language, SFW, later chapters will be NSFW)

Tags: first person POV, unnamed Sister of Sin OC, he/they Mary Goore, slowburn, banter, jealousy, stressed out overachiever, if I don't admit that I'm attracted to you then it's not really happening

Words: 1704

Summary: Mary Goore is spending the summer at the Abbey to assist with the Ghost Project when one of the Sisters of Sin catches his eye. Can they find love--or even just a place to hook up--under the wrathful gaze of Sister Imperator? (chapter one)

A/N: Sorry not sorry ghesties, but I love a slowburn. And making them fight! It's their foreplay, I promise.

ao3 link

divider by @gothdaddyissues

I spend the next week haunted by Mary Goore. They don’t appear again at the courtyard bench where I take my furtive stress-smoking breaks–not that I hope they will–but that seems like the only place in the Abbey unmarked by their presence.

Everywhere else? They seem to follow like a song I hate but can’t get out of my head. They brush past me in the hall on my way to class. They’re leaving Sister Imperator’s office right when I need to talk to her about something. They even sit on the far end of my pew during mass–which I’m sure they only attend to annoy me–leaning forward across the other worshippers to catch my eye and wave.

They talk too loudly, and they laugh too much, and I have no idea how they’re managing to get any work done for the Ghost Project when they never seem to be in the music room. Why would they do any work, when they could be following me? 

Or when he could be sitting across from me in the dining hall, surrounded by a gaggle of Sisters, all of whom are looking up at him with bright smiles, playing with their hair and giggling at remarks that I’m certain couldn’t have been that fucking funny, touching his arm and–

My roommate nearly shouts my name from across the table, and I snap my attention back to her. 

“I’m sorry, what?”

She sighs. “I was saying, that’s so annoying.”

“What is?” I realize that I’ve lost the thread of our conversation so thoroughly that she could be talking about anything from being put on extra cleaning duty to the cafeteria not having the good french fries today, and I have no idea which. 

She flaps a hand Mary’s direction. I look over just long enough for them to catch my eye and give me a wink before I turn away again. 

“See, that’s what I’m talking about. He acts like he owns the place, and everyone falls all over themselves trying to get his attention.” She adjusts the clip holding back her profusion of dark curls and says something that I don’t quite catch, because there’s another wave of giggles from Mary’s table and I look over to see him stretching his arms over his head, the hem of his shirt rising just enough to reveal a sliver of pale skin right above his studded belt–

“Huh?” I ask, when my roommate reaches out to poke my hand.

“I said, I’m glad you’re not taking part in all that nonsense.”

“Oh. Yeah, I uh… I don’t really see the appeal.”

She gives me a suspicious look, eyes narrowing and lips twisting to the side in an expression that I know too well. “You’ve been so spacey lately.”

“Yeah, I know.” I drop my eyes to my plate, dragging my fork through the remnants of my salad. “I’m just kind of stressed out about my classes and everything.”

“Well, if you want to do some extra studying together, let me know,” she says. “The summer is going to be over before we know it, and if you want Sister Imperator to approve you to take your vows this fall–”

“Yeah, that would probably be good,” I cut her off, before she can fully launch into yet another reminder of why I’m spending my summer studying instead of… whatever it is that fun people do with their summers. “I’m free tomorrow after–oh shit, what time is it?”

She checks her watch. “Uh, 1:30?”

I swear under my breath, a litany of shitshitshit as I gather my things. “I’m half an hour late for my library shift.”

“Go on,” she says, stopping me as I toss my trash onto my tray. “I’ve got this.”

I might feel annoyed with myself for eliciting the look of concerned pity she gives me, if I had the time to spare. As it is, I almost sprint out the door and across the Abbey to the library.

I stash my bag in the librarian’s office with my apologies, shrug on my cardigan to ward off the air-conditioned chill, and collect a cart of books ready to be returned to their shelves.

I love my shifts in the Ministry library, hours when  I can disappear into soothing work, cushioned by the susurrus of research happening all around me, the turning of pages and the tapping keys forming the perfect backdrop for my thoughts. 

I’m looking forward to resuming the comfort of my usual routine, to clearing my mind and maybe passively mulling over Secondo’s notes on my most recent Latin translation. But when I locate the correct range and turn down the aisle, an all-too-familiar disheveled head peeks around the next shelf, stopping me short.

“What are you doing here?” I hiss.

“Research?” Mary offers.

“Nice try, but try again.”

“Okay, fine. I saw you giving me the eye back there in the cafeteria. Thought you might want some company.”

“You followed me?” I can already feel that tell-tale blush that I hate creeping up out of my collar and across the face, the one that makes people confuse pissed off for something else.

Mary grimaces as they approach. “Followed makes it sound creepy.”

“It is”--my words come out louder than I intend, and I catch myself, because they are not going to bait me into making a scene in the middle of the library--”it is creepy. Go away.”

Of course, he doesn’t go away. 

“Are you trying to deny a humble seeker of knowledge the opportunity to improve their mind and grow in their dark faith?” he asks, voice dripping affronted piety as he plucks a book from the shelf at random. 

“Fine,” I sigh. “But be quiet. And don’t bother me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” They lean against the shelf and flip the book open with an exaggerated motion that makes me cringe for the poor book’s spine. I try to go back to my work, but I can feel their eyes on me, and it can’t be more than a minute before they’re talking again.

“Did you know that weird Cardinal has, like, a whole stash of antique porn hidden in here somewhere?” Mary asks, snaping the book shut, voice getting progressively louder. “I hear it’s the really weird stuff!”

I hear a grumble from one of the nearby study carrels as someone shoots us a glare, and I shush Mary with a light slap on the arm with the book I’m holding.

“Shut up. And go away.” I turn to shelve the book in my hand. “I’m trying to work.”

Mary doesn’t leave, just cocks their head at me mischievously and rubs the spot where I hit them, right over the devil inked into their skin. “Sure, I’ll go away. If you come meet me tonight.”

The retort is poised on the tip of my tongue, but to my surprise, what comes out of my mouth is, “Meet you? Where?”

“The cemetery.”

I shake my head. “No.”

“It’ll be fun.”

“No, Goore.”

“Ugh! So impersonal!” He clasps a hand over his heart, wounded. “Don’t you think we’re on a first-name basis, babe?”

“No. And I’ve told you not to call me that.”

I start to wheel the book cart away, rolling down the aisle to the next range of books I have to shelve, finished with this conversation. But Mary’s hand shoots out, grabbing me gently around my upper arm, their calloused touch setting off sparks inside me, sparks that I refuse to label as anything other than anger.

I’m about to say something scathing, but they lean close, and the openness of their expression stays my tongue.

“I’m sorry,” they say. “I’m an asshole, I know. But seriously. The cemetery, midnight. We’ll have a little picnic, just you and me.” A lopsided grin. “It’ll be nice.”

I bite my lip, considering, looking down at their hand where it still rests on my arm. For whatever reason, I don’t shrug it off. And they don’t take it away.

Here is the part when I say no, I think. But what I say instead is, “Maybe.”

Mary smirks like he knows, just knows, that “maybe” really means “yes,” and it makes me want to take it back now to spite him. But I can see where the conversation goes next if I say no: the way he will relish teasing me for not having the guts while I get increasingly flushed and flustered, looking every bit the good girl being pestered by the bad boy who won’t leave her alone. Worse, looking like the good girl who doesn’t want the bad boy to leave her alone.

They’re leaning in close enough now that I can smell them: clinging smoke, the salty tang of sweat, and something spicy and earthy. There is a small voice inside of me that urges me to lean in closer, to breathe in more of that oddly intoxicating scent. That small voice assures me that if I just tilt my head up ever so slightly and close my eyes, then Mary will meet me halfway. 

Stupid. What would I want that for? He’s distracting, and annoying, and–

“Midnight,” he says again, breaking my train of thought and the inexplicable spell I had fallen under. “Don’t be late.”

I roll my eyes. “Maybe,” I say again.

“I’ll take maybe.” They squeeze my arm gently, briefly, before finally releasing me, having gotten what they wanted from me. 

I should let them go, should be relieved to be left alone, left to get back to the work I’m here to do. But for reasons unknown even to me, I say, “I’ve seen it, by the way.” 

It works: they turn back, intrigued. “Seen what?”

“Cardinal Copia’s porn collection.” Nonchalant, eyes cast down as I rearrange a misfiled book on my cart.

“No shit? Was it weird?”

I shrug, leveling him with a deliberate gaze. “I’ve seen weirder.”

And just for a moment, I’m rewarded with the rarest of occurrences: Mary Goore rendered speechless. 

And then one of those smiles that says I’ve won this round, while promising that there will be another.

“See you tonight, Sister.”

[jinkookspencil]

my daisy | kth

you're late... but your lifelong crush helps you get ready

description/tags: taehyung one-shot / angst and suggestive / taehyung is her childhood family friend and neighbor / historical!AU! / this can be any historical era you wish it to be, it was inspired by the regency era, bridgerton, and taehyungs photofolio but it can be the early 1900s if you want it to be too it's really not that specific / ~1.9k words

rating: 18+ minors dni / 18+ even though it's suggestive because it starts out in an 18+ way but reader is alone (she is touching herself) /

author's note: this is my first time writing taehyung!! i had this written in my drafts for a while, intending to publish it when layover was out in celebration of him! <3 finally completely edited for like the third time and now i can finally get to work on my requests. i hope you guys like it :') i literally gave him one of my favorite scenarios of all time.

A chill summer breeze wafts through the windows, cooling your otherwise sweltering bedroom… though a bead of sweat forms at your hairline, for your bare body still radiated heat. 

The sudden air against your folds tickled, right while you’d been playing and feeling through and within them while lying atop the restricting cotton bedsheets, your other hand lost in the tangles of your own hair.

 “T-t-t….” you moan into the dimly lit room, imagining it’d been the hand of your brother’s best friend getting you close to the edge instead of your own. His name almost slips from your lips….

But the man himself storms into your room instead.

“Mr. Kim!” you screech, seeing him at your side at once. Quick to grab the pillow from beneath your hips and jerk the sheet below until it was free from its tidy dressing onto the mattress, you were unkemptly covered in seconds. “Get out!”

But Kim Taehyung still stood before you, head merely tilted downwards, waiting for you to properly wrap your bare body with the fabric. Tugging the thin sheet tightly at the back, you'd been oblivious to the fact that it outlined every curve and dip of your figure and truly, was all the more tantalizing to the man before you who'd been obviously failing his attempts not to steal glances at you through his periphery. It was unsurprising.

Taehyung had always been a menace. The boy never listened, never followed any rules except his own, and evidently never learned how to knock on another’s door. 

It was no secret to your family that you'd been smitten with Taehyung, the neighbor’s only grandson, since childhood, long before he grew to be your brother's most trusted friend. He'd been your friend first, after all, until the two of you had come of age and society deemed such a friendship inappropriate with youthful, hurried engagements, infatuations, and hormone-riddled courtships running amuck...

It proved to be a lifelong infatuation that followed you into womanhood, and though the days spent picking flowers, reading fairy tales, and ‘make-believe teatime’ were long behind you, his friendship with your brother still kept Taehyung in your life, and you were as thankful for it as the fond, playful memories of your youth.

The sheer power of your own feelings only made itself apparent when he’d went away to begin his apprenticeship in France with no promise of an engagement or any indication of reciprocated feelings. Despite an initial sorrow, the longing had turned into an ache in your chest that seemed impossible to ignore, only slightly remedied by his occasional letters and gifts. It was a short-lived hope that he could still be yours. His return as society’s most eligible, handsome, and accomplished bachelor only made it harder to confess - for everyone fell under Taehyung's spell.

With rumors of his charming reputation and dedicated work in France swirling through society and countless men and women organizing courting arrangements before he'd even arrived a month ago, you thought to make haste with your confession, but your half-written love letters were ultimately kept away in the drawers right behind where he'd stood now, with the postcards, letters, and gifts he'd sent you over that time. And you'd spent all those nights with him away just as you had tonight, imagining he'd been there, in your very room, bare as you'd been right beside you... And it had to have happened as such.  

“Oh, I apologize, Miss_____,” he says calmly, and the hint of a smirk appears on his face before he turns to face away from you, “But I’m here on orders of your dear mother. You’re, uhm, expected?”

Fuck. You lost track of time. 

“Should I tell her you’re not feeling well?” 

“No. No, I have to be there, sir. I’m expected to make at least one possible match tonight,” you panic, slithering into the undergarments you’d discarded by the bed earlier. Too hasty to feel shame, and, for the first time, thankful that women’s undergarments cover more than they ever should, you march to the wooden partition, only for your corset to be in Taehyung’s hands.

“Allow me to help,” he offers with a smile. “Your sisters are furious at your being late already, and well, I’m the only one who won’t give you an earful.”

You resign, stepping between Taehyung and the mirror and readying yourself into the corset. Looking at your reflection, you could see your figure and breasts through the sheer chemise with ease…. Practically as naked as you had been. And the man you’d who held your corset and your affection in his hands was staring at the same image with a blank expression on his face. 

“This is absolutely humiliating,” you groan, inhaling as he pulls the strings of your corset. Your breasts rise above, forming a perfect, heaving cleavage that remains there, perfectly shaped, as your torso is pulled back…. But only ever so slightly. This was new…. comfortable, and…. just as shapely and alluring. A miracle.

“….It fits well and isn’t as tight as when the girls do it… you have practice, I assume, tying women’s corsets?” you say, taking in your reflection and silently wondering if the man behind you stole another glimpse before he swiftly tied the knot at your back - or if you’d compared to the beauties he must’ve courted in Paris.

Tutting, he ignores the question. His fingers remain at your back, playing with the strings he’d just tied together before tracing your corset's hem. You don't push his hands away when he continues to trace the boning to where it lies below your breast, until his long, elegant fingers ghost your stomach and he pulls his hand away.

It’s only when he steps backward that you exhale comfortably, highly unusual in such a corset, and in the reflection, you see Taehyung grab the dress you were due to wear from its hook behind the partition that enclosed you. He hands it to you without a word from where he stood at your back and with his help, you quickly step into the silky dress, and he ties it up just the same. 

The color of the dress allowed your skin to shine as brightly as the rhinestones that adorned it, laid perfectly across your breasts and capsleeves…. Admiring them so, you remember the accompanying jewelry you’d prepared for the evening, a dainty set of earrings, which you put on in a millisecond, and its matching necklace.

“Allow me,” Taehyung says in a hush from behind you, tracing down your arm until he reaches the necklace in the palm of your hand. He brushes your hair to the side, the gentle graze of his fingertips sending chills down your spine as he works away at the lock. 

“There”, he says, close enough for you to feel the breath of the word at your nape.

Thankful his gaze was fixated there, chilling as it may be, you quickly attempt to hide your heavy breathing and the rise and fall of your chest by working away at your hair, braiding and pinning it in minutes until you looked like every other 'hopeful' bachelorette.

With a dazzling look and the event kicking off the society’s courting season… you were sure to catch the wild eyes of plenty of eligible bachelors, much to your chagrin. You were at an appropriate age to be wed, let alone courted…. but it was clear that you could never feel about a man what you felt for Taehyung. Every other dead-end meeting your mother had set up in the time he’d been away proved that fact and only frustrated her further, especially when you’d turned down both of Taehyung’s now-married cousins, the highly educated and well-off brothers Namjoon and Seokjin. ‘Artistic boys get you nowhere,’ she’d said, trying to secure your future despite having a soft spot for Taehyung herself. 

Now, in the mirror, you could see. Lust. Love. Trust. Humiliation. Your own sinful desire reflected back at you, along with Taehyung's striking side profile. Disregarding the mirror altogether, he had his head turned towards you, surely close enough to smell the rosy scent on your skin, on which you'd continuously felt his warm breathing.

“You look ravishing,” he finally mutters. “You looked beautiful even then.”

“Even then?” 

“Before France…” he whispers, toying with the silky fabric at your shoulders. “And tonight....before this…. Especially before this.”

You finally break your own gaze, turning to face him and allowing your nose to brush against his, noting his floral scent… daisies specifically… the kind you’d always play with…. With a hint of some French cologne… The person you always knew, and the man he came to be… 

“Any man would be lucky to dance with you.”

“It is not any man that I would wait for. It is not any man that I want…” you whisper, taking Taehyung’s hand and placing it on your waist. But his hand moves, quick to wrap around you and pull your body right against his.

“And what is it that you want so badly?”

Taehyung’s head tilts as his gaze fixates on a spot on your neck, biting at his lower lip and ready to do the same to your exposed skin. His lips meet your neck….

And a loud knock is heard on your door.

“_____, mother is waiting!” you hear through the door. “We’re all waiting. What’s taking you so long? Should I help with the corset?”

Oh… Right.

The two of you exhale against each other, Taehyung’s breath warmer than it had been…. even nicer. But he pulls away, ever so slightly.

“No! No, did that myself. A minute more,” you say, loud enough for your little sister to hear through the door.

“You did your own corset? Strange. Well, do you have any idea where Tae is? None of us can find him after mother sent him up here, and I want to show him how cutely I'd dressed up the teddy bear he got me!” your sister continues. “Mr. Kim Namjoon came looking for him too. Did he run off to the event ahead of us?”

“I don’t know,” you say, avoiding Taehyung’s gaze. “Now run off. I’ll be downstairs in a minute.”

“I should go,” you say quietly, when you’d heard your sister’s footsteps fade. “I’ll see you there?”

Taehyung nods as he unwraps his arm from around your body, licking the lips you'd almost met.

You hear your name being called lowly from behind you just as you open your bedroom door. Turning only your head, you resist the urge to slam the door shut and kiss away the sudden anguish on Taehyung’s face.

“Save me a dance.”

“Two,” you reply, and he chuckles, walking towards you and taking your hand in his.

"I won't delay you further, my daisy. Tonight, I ask you for a dance, but soon... I hope you'll allow me to ask for this as well." Taehyung brings your hand up to his face, kissing your knuckles with his eyes closed, fluttering them open, and looking at you through his lashes with his lips still there. He doesn't wait for a reply. “Go.” 

[godspellcraft]

intro post 👋

hello! i’d prefer to stay anonymous but i wanna give a little info about what i do for anyone who may be in the same boat :)

i was raised catholic. i also have ocd which for a long time warped my catholic upbringing into scrupulosity/religious ocd (obsessively trying to always do the “right” thing lest i go to hell, compulsively keeping track of my “sins”, etc).

YEARS ago in middle/high school i had a friend who got into wicca and she invited me over for a full moon ceremony in her yard, and (despite that ocd-voice yelling at me and making me anxious the whole time about whether this was all okay) i was really struck by how beautiful and NATURAL it felt- being outside, including stones and herbal tea, making wishes on candles- and i secretly prayed throughout the whole thing, both as an ocd protective measure (still very much worried about hell), and, now i realize, as a perfectly natural addition to the ritual. i was raised to believe that God created the earth and everything on it…. why couldn’t i connect with Him THROUGH that creation? where church often made me feel anxious and LESS than, i’ve never had any problem feeling connected and distinctly “magical” when i’m outside interacting with the natural world. but at that point i was still too anxious and scrupulous about it all to really do any exploring.

flash forward to college and i started a small crystal collection, mainly for aesthetic, but also with a bit of curiosity. flash forward again and i’ve discovered Christian witchcraft is in fact A Thing, that the Bible’s been translated a million times and that whole “witch” line is pretty negligible, and Hildegarde Von Bingen was doing crystals before it was cool. in a weird way the pendulum has swung back to the other side, and i’m probably more catholic now than ever, but in the healthiest, most fun, magical way that makes so much sense to me. I talk to God & Jesus with tarot cards, i keep candles for some favorite saints (St. Beatrice Da Silva, my confirmation saint, St. Francis of Assisi, St. Mary Magdalene, St. Michael Archangel, and of course Mother Mary), and I can name the correspondences of a long list of herbs and crystals and use them to set goals for myself and to create what i think of as “physical petitions” (spells). where i used to pray obsessively, never feeling like i “did it *quite* right”, now i can put some herbs in a bottle and truly let it go.

i still feel i have a lot to learn. i know a lot of the theory, but i just need practice really connecting. i’ve definitely had some strange coincidences that are hard to brush off, but i’m still growing and learning every day.

so welcome to whatever this is! i hope you can find some of it useful or interesting.

and im a scorpio? if that’s important lol

edit: tags