#I hadn't painted in a while I had to get it out of my system

[eva-birdman]

Let me light that for you

[pomefioredove]

Omg hiii! I saw that your requests were open again! Please take your time and prioritize your rest, and as always your writing is such a delight to read! I always look forward to your posts! 💖💖💖

That being said, can you please write for a Yuu/reader that has a love for painting (but is shy about showcasing their skill) , and was absolutely taken by Vil's beauty even before they met him? Of course they didn't know that he was a famous actor at first. What if Vil one day finds their sketches and paintings of him after months of knowing him? (hmm preferably after the events of book 6..? 👀)

SO CUTE!!! kicking my legs back and forth at this anonnn

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ the picture of vil schoenheit

type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

How were you supposed to know?

It's not like Crowley had given you a guide on Night Raven College or its students (though, wouldn't that have been nice?)

I mean, you had to reminded of Trey's last name not two weeks ago. How were you supposed to know who Vil Schoenheit is?

You'd only seem him at a distance. Passed him by in the halls while he scolded some poor first year. He even looked beautiful when he was angry.

He was just made to be painted.

You didn't show your friends the art. You didn't need to give Ace another reason to tease you, and being a stalker would've really been the cherry on top of your weirdness sundae.

Besides, it was just drawing. Practice! Sketches from a distance, doodles done in the margins of your notes, watercolors and paintings from memory...

It felt familiar. This man, this stranger, someone you hadn't even spoken to, made you feel a little closer to home.

.

"Really, you should have some sort of organizational system,"

Vil leafs through pages of alchemy reports and history of magic homework. "Might I suggest a recycling bin?"

You smile. It's not often that your friend- Vil Schoenheit, that is- has a day off. But today is Saturday, and your room is in desperate need of his touch.

"This is... chaotic," he says, brushing a clump of Grim fur off his shoulder. "And you live like this?"

You shrug. "I try,"

"Well, try no more. We'll have this done before dinner,"

His commitment is touching. Millions of screeching fangirls would give anything just to spend five minutes with Vil, and here he is, tidying your room for you.

It's almost cute. He's humming to himself, hair tied back in a ponytail, in one of your shirts (his are too nice to get dirty), sweeping Grim fur out from under your bed.

"Rook and Epel couldn't make it?" you ask, pretending not to care that it's just the two of you.

"I told them not to bother,"

"Oh?"

Vil tsks. "They would get in the way. We're much more efficient on our own- we work well together, after all,"

That's something he'd said before. You'd always wondered what it meant.

"Right,"

You switch places, going to strip your bed of its sheets for washing while Vil tidies your desk.

Off go the pillow cases, the comforter, the blankets. You're wrestling with your mattress when you notice that he hasn't moved in a while.

He's looking through some of the papers from within the bowels of your desk, smiling to himself, a finger held to his perfect lips.

"What?"

"Hm?" he hums, but he doesn't look at you. "Oh, just... admiring your work. You have quite an eye for detail, have I ever told you that?"

He's being weird. You let go of your bundle of bedding and look at what he's holding, but it's just your sketchbook.

Oh. Oh, no. It's your sketchbook.

"OH! Um, wait-" you say, rushing to his side. "Don't- don't look!"

Vil smirks, and he holds the art over your head. "How unfair. The muse should always be the first to see, you know,"

Damn his height and perfect, slender arms!!! Your eyes widen. "It's not what it looks like! I didn't know you when I did those!"

"Yes, I saw the dates. You could make a career out of admiring me, you know~" he chuckles. "I'd pay for these. I'm sure Rook would like a few, as well."

You're practically melting with embarrassment. "Come on- give it back!"

Seeing your pathetic, embarrassed whining, Vil relents, handing you the sketchbook with an eye-roll.

"What are you ashamed of? They're fine pieces,"

"It's not that," you clutch the book to your chest. "It's just- uh- weird, isn't it?"

Vil scoffs. "I'm weird?"

"NO! I meant- I didn't even know you, and I drew you almost every day- that isn't... strange?"

He takes a moment to study you, your body language, the embarrassed look on your face. From head to toe. And then he smiles, warmly.

"I am in a dorm with Rook. There are very, very few things that I find strange now. You admire me- I'm flattered,"

He gingerly takes sketchbook out of your arms and opens it again. "Not to mention, you have an artistic eye that any director would kill for."

You stand there, a little dumbfounded, but mostly very, very grateful that he's your friend, and that you can laugh about this together.

"I'm... well... thank you," you finally say.

Vil smirks, and pinches your cheek. "You're precious. Now, back to work. I want this room over with. These paintings won't frame themselves, will they?"

[woso-dreamzzz]

Ruin

Alexia Putellas x Pre-Teen!Reader

Jenni Hermoso x Pre-Teen!Reader

Summary: Your guardians fight for custody

You had dealt with lawyers before.

You had dealt with case workers before.

Nearly your whole life in the system meant you were familiar with both.

Seeing them never got easier as you sit outside the meeting room, hunched over as you stare at the phone battery that's rapidly depleting.

You'd plugged it in to charge last night but it hadn't.

The wire's been faulty for a while now, one of those chargers that you have to move to the right angle to make sure it works.

You suppose it must have moved in the night.

You can just about hear the low murmur of conversations if you strain your ears but you don't.

You don't want to hear what they're saying.

"Drink? Food?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

You turn away from your case worker, angling your body as far away as you can get without falling off your seat.

She'd been responsible for you for eleven years, right back to when you were a baby and your first set of parents had their rights terminated. You thought last year would be the last you would see of her.

"I'm fine," You insist.

"It's okay not to be."

"I know that. It still doesn't change the fact that I'm fine."

You both know you're lying.

She knows you well enough to not bring it up again, merely offering you a few of the hard boiled sweets from the reception desk.

"They won't decide anything without your input, you know."

"They're adults," You say dismissively," That's all they ever do."

"You're twelve now. Your wishes are taken into account."

"Only if it goes to court. Only in front of a judge. If they sign an agreement here and now, they don't have to talk to me about it."

Your caseworker looks like she wants to say something but a bang of a table has her stopping.

Jenni's voice in the meeting room is raised and Alexia's rises to meet it.

The fractures in the relationship were already there by the time you arrived. Small at first but steadily growing bigger and bigger.

You hadn't known it at the time but you know it now.

You had been adopted to salvage their relationship.

It's what a lot of people did. Have a child in the hope that it would bring the relationship together again.

It had worked, for a short while but the cracks hadn't healed. They'd simply been painted over for a little while. All it had taken was a little rock of the foundations, a little change in the norm.

They always came back and soon Alexia and Jenni were arguing where they thought you couldn't hear them and driving separately to practice.

Now, Jenni was moving to Mexico and the tender hooks they were on were failing.

You were hanging on a cliff and they were too busy arguing to notice your grip slipping, ready to plummet into the abyss below.

"You're not taking my daughter from me!"

You stand, unwilling to hear anymore.

"I'm going to the toilet."

It's a single stall, a door lock that you use as soon as you're inside.

You sit on the toilet lid, willing your shaking hands to stop as you clench them into fists. Your fingernails dig into the soft flesh until you're almost certain you've broken skin.

You hate this.

You hate the lawyers and their cool indifference towards you.

You hate your caseworker and her faux sympathy.

You hate Alexia and Jenni for putting you in this situation in the first place. You hate them for thinking a child would salvage an already broken relationship. You hate that they've made you their daughter. You hate that they've tied themselves into you in a way that you can't get away from.

Your phone dies, the music from your earphones cutting out instantly and you sigh, tugging them out of your ears and wrapping them around your phone.

They're an old pair, still wired and plugged in.

Jenni and Alexia have showered you in presents since the moment the adoption went through. You had a pair of Bluetooth ones but you've never used them, not since the presents stopped coming from them together and started coming separately.

They were always one upping each other.

If Alexia bought you Airpods, Jenni bought you a pair of Beats.

If Alexia bought you a Switch, Jenni bought you an XBox.

You blow out all your air noisily, the shuffling at the door alerting you to the fact that your caseworker is outside.

You flush the toilet to keep up appearances, washing your hands and stubbornly not looking in the mirror.

"They should be finishing up," She tells you and you glower.

"For now."

They're not finished up in the slightest and you slump in your seat.

There's no music to distract you from their raised voices, tension and anger building between them.

"And what about her training?! You'd take her away from all that? To what? Gallivant around in Mexico?!"

That's Alexia now, you'd recognise her anger anywhere.

You imagine she's standing now, palms flat on the desk as she gets as close to Jenni as possible. Her lawyer, a straight laced man in a fancy suit and a disinclination to children, probably sits back in his seat, arms spread in a 'how could you tear Alexia away from her child?' pose at the other lawyer.

"Mexico has pools, Alexia! They know how to swim! She can train there!"

That's Jenni.

She's still as angry as earlier, bubbling and boiling inside of her. She's probably standing up too, finger pointing towards Alexia in a brutal jab. Her lawyer pretends he likes kids, pretends to greet you warmly and act like her actually gives a shit about your feelings.

He doesn't and he doesn't even do a good job of pretending.

He's more condescending than anything, talking to you like you're five and don't understand why your guardians are fighting.

"And you'd have her make new friends? Put her in a new swimming club? Her life is here!"

"No, Alexia, your life is here!"

You've never felt more weightless than you were in the pool, just floating around on your back as the water laps at your skin.

You're the fastest swimmer in the region for your age group. Especially in long distance.

Your coaches say you have the stamina.

You think it's because you want to be in the water for as long as possible.

It comes easy to you, mindless, repetitive.

You like to do things you're good at.

The door swings open, slamming against the wall and you sigh.

The yelling has stopped.

Neither Alexia nor Jenni want to make a scene in public.

The meeting room is a free-for-all but outside they can pretend to be civil. Everyone will pretend they didn't hear them at each other's throats a few moments ago.

You stand, plugging in your earphones even though your phone is dead.

You've found that neither of them want to talk to you if you've got your earphones in.

"Say goodbye to your mother, y/n," Alexia says, already strolling over to wait for you by the door.

Your eyes linger on her before they flick to Jenni.

You shove your hands into your pocket and mutter," Bye."

She's still looking at Alexia too, eyes narrowed in anger before they softens a fraction as she turns to you.

Her hand rests on your shoulder, thumb rubbing ever so slightly.

"I'll see you tomorrow, yeah? You've got that competition."

"Yeah, I do."

"I'll be cheering."

You manage a weak smile.

Alexia and Jenni will be on opposite ends of the room, pretending that the other doesn't exist.

"I love you," Jenni says and you sigh.

"Yeah."

Alexia is waiting by the door, impatiently, foot tapping. When you join her, she starts off again, down the stairs and to the car parked up front.

"Not sitting in the front with me?" She tries to tease as you slip into the seat behind her but you're in no mood," I'll let you choose the music."

You hold up your dead phone, earphones in and her small smile turns into a frown.

"Well, if you're sure..."

"I'm sure."

"So..." Alexia drums her fingers on the steering wheel," That competition tomorrow...You excited?"

You stare out the window. "I guess."

You're in no mood to talk, clearly, so Alexia settles on looking back at you through the rear view mirror periodically.

"Don't worry," She tells you," This will all get sorted out soon."

You wish it hadn't happened in the first place.

You with you had never met them.

[becca-e-barnes]

The Study

Not only is this the start of my 'Moving In' series, I'm also calling it my birthday piece! I turn 24 on Tuesday and I'm trying hard not to think about the fact I'm overdue a quarter-life crisis.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2.7K (oops)

Warnings: Pleasure Dom!Bucky, sub! reader, spanking, use of a vibrator, forced orgasms, kinda Dom vibes but totally consensual, degradation, safe word system but safe word not used, pet names

Summary: Bucky spends the weekend at your new house and you take him on a tour.

Minors, do not interact

Turning the key in the front door still feels odd. One of the very first changes you made to the house was installing a new locking mechanism on both doors and it hasn't had a chance to stiffen up yet.

The smell of paint is starting to dissipate but it hits you hardest when you open the front door. The hallway was one of the last areas of the house to be redecorated so the smell seems to be most noticeable right at the door.

"Damn, this place is deceptive." Bucky's remark makes you smile to yourself while you hang your jacket up. "It's a whole lot bigger on the inside than I thought."

"It surprised me too. All of the rooms are a nice size."

The house had ticked so many boxes for you. More than two bedrooms in a quiet development, a low maintenance garden, off road parking, a downstairs bathroom and the whole house has plenty of potential. The plan isn't to live here forever, after all. It should be easy enough for you to sell when you decide to move on.

You flick a few lights on in the hallway and toss your keys into the bowl on the hall table before you turn your attention back to Bucky standing in your living room. Despite the fact you hadn't removed your own shoes, he's taken his off, leaving them neatly at the doorway of the living room beside his travel bag.

He's respectful of your space; he always has been but it's nice to just have him in your space. It's nice to have him be part of it.

He walks slowly around the little living room, looking at the few ornaments and picture frames you'd collected. "That's cute." He's looking at a picture of you and your best friend, sitting on the floor of your old kitchen, laughing yourselves to tears over the fact your Christmas tree was three inches tall and cut out from the back of a cereal box. The photo brings a smile to your face every time you see it.

"Are you hungry? You've had a long day." You move over behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and kissing his back through his clothes while he looks at your pictures on the fireplace. He's had to travel for a few hours just to get here so you imagine he's bound to want something.

"I'm okay for now." You nod at his response, taking in the fact he's actually standing in your home.

The time you have with him is limited. That's how this works but for just less than two days, he's yours. After that, he'll go back home so you've learned to make the most of the time you have with him.

"Help yourself to whatever you like. Kitchen is down the hall." You don't even really want to move but you can't stand like this forever.

He turns in your arms so he's facing you and captures your lips in his. It's a soft, slow, gentle kiss; the kind you've been dreaming of since you last saw him. You need him to feel exactly how much you've missed him without having to tell him.

The kiss lasts for minutes, far beyond its natural end but neither of you care.

After what feels like forever, your lips part but your foreheads stay pressed together, both of you determined not to pull away.

"I still haven't gotten the grand tour." He's got the most beautiful eyes and they're locked on yours to the point that you'd almost forgotten he's never been here before. "But I want to start in your favourite room."

"Well, the study is my favourite. I converted one of the bedrooms into an office space."

"Show me."

You don't protest. Instead you head out of the living room and up the stairs to the furthest end of the hallway, with Bucky following closely behind you.

"These all used to be built-in storage units around a headboard for a bed. I took all the doors off the cabinets and made it into shelving." You'd turned the room into a space that you love. The walls are painted a light shade of cream with houseplants lined up between books on the shelves. Instead of storage around a headboard, you now have book shelves, arching around your desk. The other side of the room has a sofa that converts into a bed for extra guests and there's a beanbag in the corner by the window to read on.

"I see why it's your favourite. Odd mix of books here though." Bucky's eyes flick over the titles, ranging from your collection of political figures' autobiographies, the 'Diary of an Oxygen Thief' trilogy, the selection of books providing commentary on the criminal justice system and a good few classics.

"It is. But I like this room. It'll be cosy in winter once I get some fairy lights and nice and bright in summer. Somewhere to unwind." You're thinking out loud as you reach up to close the window and that's when you feel Bucky step behind you.

"I think we should celebrate." Bucky’s voice is low, his lips trailing up the side of your neck, heading towards the spot just behind your ear that he's always loved to kiss.

"I think..." He stops briefly on his path, taking a second to inhale deeply, determined to slow down. "I think we should make love in every room of your new house this weekend."

Fuck.

"Are you sure you're up for that? Because I can really stretch it out. I'm not sure how we're going to make it work in the pantry or the downstairs bathroom but I'm happy to try."

"Your 'pantry' is a cupboard." Bucky's breath is hot on your neck, and you feel his lips have curled into a smile.

"I know. You promised every room though." You can't help but tease him, although you're half serious. It's not your fault that you're keen. Not when he's kissing down your neck like that and holding your waist so your back is flush against him.

"You're a handful." You feel his fingertips graze the bare skin of your waist and you remember how nice it is to just be touched the way he touches you.

"I might be a handful but I can promise if I have my way, after you leave here on Sunday, you won't even be able to think about cumming again until Thursday at the very earliest."

"Jesus, that's one hell of a promise." He turns you around to face him and you notice his eyes are damn near twinkling with excitement.

You've got all weekend together; there's no need to rush but you can't help the overwhelming need to feel him sliding into you. That's when you feel closest to him and it's the closeness you're craving more than anything.

Your hand cups the side of his face, your thumb tracing across his freshly shaved jawline and you allow yourselves a second to just be together.

He smells familiar. The heat of his body against yours makes you feel safe. He makes you feel safe.

"I want to start with you though. I brought you a little something." He kisses your lips gently and smooths a hand down over your hair before he retreats downstairs to the bag that he'd brought a few changes of clothes in.

He returns with a small cardboard box with the tape on one end already cut.

"I didn't have time to wrap it. It arrived last minute." You're so busy trying to get into the box that you hadn't even noticed.

Inside the box are a few instruction manuals, a thin white cord and a black satin pouch. Inside the pouch is a neon pink toy that's thicker at each end, narrow in the middle and nicely curved.

"I've already charged it and paired it to my phone. This end slips inside you." He points to the thicker end, studying your face to make sure you're okay with this.

And why wouldn't you be? This is pretty damn close to a dream come true.

"Remember what you said last time I saw you? You wanted me to spank you. Maybe we should take it a little further." He's always been hesitant to do anything that would hurt you and that fact is the very reason you want him to. You know how much he wants to protect you and knowing he cares about you has you convinced that he's the right person to explore this with.

"Please." You whisper, beyond excited at the thought of getting everything you've begged him for. "What did you have in mind?"

"I'm thinking about you bent over this desk with this inside you and we'll start off with a couple of light taps to that pretty ass." He presses the button on the narrow part of the toy and it give a short buzz, coming to life in his hands.

Fuck, you're into this man. You're into his hesitation just as much as you're into his willingness to try something new.

"Traffic light safe word system. 'Red' and I'll stop, 'amber' and I'll give you a break, 'green' to keep going." He wants to be fully sure you know you're in control here, not that you ever had any doubt.

You nod and stretch up on your tiptoes to kiss him, this time with as much passion as you can manage. Your hands run through his hair while his trail over your body, your tongue flicking gently against his.

Just being around this man makes you wet, not that you'd ever admit that to him. Even the thought of him has you throbbing with arousal so now that he's here in front of you, your whole body feels like it's buzzing.

He touches you like he can't get enough. He can't get you close enough and it's beyond thrilling to be the subject of his need.

It's almost embarrassing that you get yourself worked up so easily but from the hungry look in his eyes when you undo the button of your jeans, he doesn't seem to mind.

You step out of your jeans and panties and Bucky helps you out of your top and bra, leaving you naked in your study.

"Look at you." Bucky sounds like he's almost in awe, no matter how many times he's seen you naked.

He kisses you again, matching the same passion he'd had earlier, trailing his hands over your soft, warm skin until his fingers are nestled between your thighs.

"Fuck, you're soaked." His fingertips trail between the folds of your sex, gathering the wetness he's responsible for. "Good girls don't get this wet at the thought of being spanked. You know that, don't you?"

You're almost too turned on to even respond to him. "Bend over. I want to see how well you take your toy."

You do as you're told, bending over your desk while Bucky drops to his knees behind you to slip the toy inside you. You feel him trail the thicker end of the toy against your slick cunt, gathering enough wetness to let it slip inside you comfortably.

Within a minute, the toy comes to life inside you and there's no way to stifle the moan that catches in your throat.

Not only is the internal part vibrating at a low, delightful buzz, the other end is pressed right to your clit and is stimulating it at the same strength.

"Did I say you could make a sound?" Bucky quizzes, sounding harsher than ever and when he gets no response, his hand comes down on your ass with so much force that it makes you yelp.

It was a hell of a spank and you can feel heat blooming under the skin of your left cheek, quickly followed by another spank to the right.

"For the record, you can make as much noise as you need to. But only because I've told you that you can. You see the difference?"

You force yourself not to nod and it has the effect you were hoping for. Two more harsh, painful spanks are delivered, one to each cheek, the same as before.

You don't know if you imagined it but the toy inside you feels stronger. You can't be sure if you're just focusing on the pleasure over the pain or if Bucky really has turned it up.

"Does that feel nice, sweetheart?" He needs to know you're enjoying this because a little part of him is surprised at just how much he's into it. He gets to control both your pleasure and your pain because you want him to and the trust alone is enough to get him off.

"Feels amazing, fuck. Making such a mess." Stringing sentences together isn't easy but you swear you're about to cum already. Your nipples rub delightfully against the wooden desk and you swear every sensation is heightened.

"I wish you could see the mess you're making. Looks fucking delicious." He turns the toy up ever so slightly but that's enough to send you spiralling, gripping the edge of the desk as pleasure ripples through your entire body.

You can do nothing but sob, cumming relentlessly because he's refused to turn the toy down. Even after you're done, he keeps it at the same intensity, moving on like nothing happened.

"You say the sluttiest things. That promise of yours to totally drain me. Who says shit like that? So fucking filthy."

"I mean it. I want every drop of cum you can give me. And then more." You know saying something like that will earn you another spank and it does.

"You're not just acting like a slut. You are a slut. You spend your life hiding it from everyone else but you can't hide it from me." A shiver runs down your spine. You almost feel like you've been caught. Like he's figured you out and now you have nothing left to hide. "Say it."

It's a clear instruction but saying it makes it real.

Your hesitation earns you another sharp spank, heat prickling both your face and your ass at the same time.

"Don't make me tell you twice." For someone hesitant to slip into a dominant role, he's absolutely nailing it.

"I'm your slut." Your voice is less steady than you would've hoped but the words at clear at the very least.

"My slut?" He almost sounds like he can't believe what he heard.

"Yours. Your slut." You repeat, wishing you could see his face.

"Oh sweetheart, that's cute." He means it too. He turns the toy up as a reward and even though it's only at half its full strength, you can't help but cum again, pleading your way through another blinding orgasm.

"Such a good girl for me. That's it. Cum nice and hard. Give that slutty little pussy what it needs." He lands one more harsh spank on your ass and you swear it only makes you cum harder, to the point that your legs are shaking.

But all of a sudden, the sensation stops completely.

"B-Bucky?" You ask, turning around to look at him, wondering if something went wrong.

"Don't want to wear you out, sweetheart. I think that'll do for now." You agree that it's probably a good place to stop and you have no problem taking the toy out for a while.

He pulls you in close, resting your head on his chest, letting you catch your breath while he holds you and kisses your forehead.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" His voice is soft, hoping that you'll tell him the truth.

"No. It was perfect." You smile, capturing his lips in yours, hoping to relieve some of his fear. You're almost giddy with excitment. It truly was everything you needed and you fully intend to thank him for it before the weekend is over.

"Good. I enjoyed it more than I thought I would." He's back to the gentle, tender touches that you're so used to from him and it's a blessing that he can flick so effortlessly between both personas.

"How about we order in and stick a movie on?" He suggests, kissing the tip of your nose. "Go put on something comfortable. I'll find a takeout."

[copperbadge]

Did I say National Clean Your Home month was over? I SPOKE TOO SOON.

[ID: A text chat between me and @scifigrl47; I say "Who has two thumbs and a new HVAC system arriving tomorrow? This guy!" to which she responds "Is it the Cryptids?" I answer "They have no thumbs! They will however get to have their litterbox in the bedroom tomorrow while the guys rip the bathroom floor up." Sci says "I mean, they have weird little paws." to which I respond "Also they might have a human thumb stashed away somewhere for all I know."]

I meant to call the HVAC company next week, because I hadn't heard from them about getting my unit replaced but I also wasn't about to bother with it before Thanksgiving. But they called me this morning and were very apologetic when they asked "Would...would we be able to do it tomorrow?" and I said YES immediately.

And then had to go and frantically empty out the utility closet, where the HVAC is, but where the litterbox, some cleaning supplies, and Darth Ladder also live. So Darth Ladder aka Anakin Stepladder is out in the living room for a bit.

[ID: A photograph of a wooden ladder, painted green with duct tape on several areas, sitting in front of my living room window.]

I swept and steam-mopped as best I could, put the litterbox back so as not to freak out the cats ahead of time, and tomorrow before the new unit arrives I'll move the litterbox and bathroom rug out of the way.

I have never been more excited to spend several thousand dollars on something I can't eat, wear, or carnally enjoy.

[ajesterwrites]

9. the fatalist

summary: you spontaneously visit the boarding mansion, but it's not stefan who awaits you.

pairings: damon salvatore x reader, stefan salvatore x reader

warnings: none

word count: 2.2K

YOU WEREN'T USED to running. For you, everything was all about poise. You could be doing something you absolutely hated, as long as you looked good doing it. But after you were sent to Coral City's Trauma Center, you changed. Before, you had values, morals, a specific set of rules that guided you through life and your relationships. Then suddenly...you didn't.

The adjustment was difficult, but you tackled a fresh mindset and embraced your new identity with style. So the concept of you knocking on the door of a boy you met only a few days prior was something that would turn almost anyone's head.

Even as you rang the ancient doorbell, you couldn't help but laugh. The mere idea of you awkwardly standing outside, waiting for someone to answer, was absurd. But now it was you. And only you, since after five minutes of waiting, the only thing that greeted you was silence.

For a moment, you thought you had the wrong address. But you'd seen the picture Caroline sent you, a photo undoubtedly obtained by her casual stalking, and a place like that was hard to miss. It didn't even look like a house. It was more like a mansion you'd find in a horror film or a murder-mystery.

Reluctantly, you slammed the door knocker four times. The door creaked opened. You gasped quietly. Peering through the narrow opening, you realized you had three options.

Either you could wait a little longer and risk looking desperate, go inside and risk looking invasive, or you could leave. Nobody would know that you were ever there, which could save you some dignity.

Opting for the third choice, you followed your nature, and turned to go. You hadn't even walked two feet when a black crow nearly crashed into you. You yelped and ducked instinctively, covering your head with your hands, and then whirled around to find yourself gazing into the mesmerizing crystal blue eyes of a handsome stranger.

"Oh my god," You blurted out, placing a hand over your thumping heart. The stranger towered over you, smirking mischievously, and tilted his head to the side as if to say What's this?

"You must be Y/N," The man replied coolly. There was something about his tone that made you feel...off. It was charming and alluring, like the bright tip of a flame waiting to burn you. "I'm Damon, Stefan's brother."

You frowned. Brother? "I didn't even know he had a brother."

"Well Stefan's not one to brag," Damon joked. You chuckled softly. He reached his arm out, motioning for you to come forth. "Please, come in. I'm sure Stefan will be along any second."

You followed him inside and shut the door behind you. "Do you always keep your door open like that? I mean aren't you afraid of anyone getting in?"

"Nope."

"Then you must be pretty confident in your self-defense abilities," You said, but Stefan's brother was so unresponsive you weren't sure if the words actually left your mouth. As you looked around the enormous home, you noticed there was no security system installed. And Damon looked like a man who could defend himself. "Wow. This is your living room?"

"Living room, parlor...Sotheby's auction," He quipped. He stopped beside you. Your eyes wandered the room in awe. Between the regal rugs, chairs, lamps, and paint job, it was easy to say Stefan and his family had exquisite style. They'd really embraced the whole vintage vibe in a beautiful way. "It's a little kitschy for my taste."

You nodded slowly, but even you couldn't hide your surprise as you marveled at the setting.

"I see why my brother's so smitten," Damon said, turning to face you. You looked at him. Stefan was smitten? Had he...talked about you to Damon? That was a good sign, at least. "It's about time. For a while there, I never thought he'd get over the last one. Nearly destroyed him."

You furrowed your eyebrows. You didn't expect someone with Stefan's face to stay single forever, but there was something about his tone that didn't seem right. He was trying to tell you something and it seemed like he was trying to let you know that without making it obvious.

"The last one?" You asked, painfully ignorant.

"Yeah. Katherine, his girlfriend?" Damon said, frowning insincerely when he saw that puzzled look on your face. "Oh, you two haven't had the awkward exes conversation yet."

You smiled politely. "Why linger in the past when there's a whole future ahead of you, right?"

"Interesting mindset," He replied, pretending to ponder your words. "It's too bad he's not looking for a relationship, he could really use someone like you in his life."

"We're just friends," You murmured, hoping to salvage some control over this conversation. Technically, you were being truthful. You were just friends—the reason you'd showed up was because you'd hoped you could be more, but you were beginning to regret it.

Damon nodded. "That's good. I would hate for you two to get involved when he's on the rebound. We all know how those relationships end."

You smiled. "Have you always been such a fatalist?"

Damon chuckled softly, keeping his eyes trained on you with a pleased smile stretched across his face. "Hello, Stefan."

You turned to see Stefan standing by the entrance. "Y/N." His eyes were fixed on you, but he looked like he wanted to burn a hole in someone's skull—and you had a feeling it wasn't yours. "I didn't know you were coming over."

"Yeah, uh, sorry," You said, stepping toward him. "This was kind of a spur of the moment thing and I really didn't think this through. It's stupid, I know, I just-"

"Oh, don't be silly," Damon intervened, coming to your side. "You're welcome any time. Isn't she, Stefan?"

Stefan didn't respond. Instead he just stood there, paralyzed, his thickening gaze boring into his inattentive brother. Or maybe Damon did notice the way Stefan was staring at him with such flaming eyes but simply didn't care.

"You know, I should break out the family photo albums or some home movies," Damon went on. You struggled to keep your eyes on him when you could practically feel Stefan's impenetrable, long look. "But I have to warn you. He wasn't always such a looker."

"Thank you for stopping by, Y/N," Stefan spoke up monotonously, darting his eyes to you occasionally but maintaining Damon as his primary target. "Nice to see you."

If poison had a voice, that would be it. You couldn't pinpoint exactly what was going on, but the only thing you did know was that this wasn't your problem and you weren't going to make it yours. The tension between the two was incredibly palpable, suffocating even. You'd never felt anything like it. You never knew that family members could hate each other so much.

"Um, yeah, okay," You said awkwardly, taking Stefan's lingering gaze as your cue to leave. "It was nice meeting you, Damon."

"Great meeting you too, Y/N," He replied. Without tearing his gaze from yours, he lifted your hand and pressed his lips against your knuckles.

Caught off guard by his gesture, you stood there in a daze and smiled forcefully before turning to the other brother. You opened your mouth to say something to Stefan, but quickly shut it and gave him a small nod of acknowledgement before scurrying out.

And this is why I don't run.

◇◇◇

By the time you got to your house, you were exhausted. On your way there, your bike tires blew out so you'd been forced to walk halfway, and it'd been lifetimes since you walked such a great distance. All you wanted to do was take a relaxing shower and sleep. But you learned a long time ago that life wasn't there to cater to your desires. You didn't know exactly what its purpose was, all you knew was that when you arrived inside, Bonnie and Caroline's laughter floated through the house.

You followed their voices to the kitchen and stopped. "What are you guys doing here?"

Bonnie looked away from the pot she'd been stirring on the stove and smiled. "Oh, hey, Y/N! Jenna and I are just making jerk chicken from Grams' recipe book and Caroline is baking some cookies for tomorrow night."

"Yeah but enough of that," Caroline said, setting the bowl of batter down so she could prop her elbows on the counter and listen intently. "How'd your talk with Stefan go?"

"Well...I went to his place... and according to his brother-"

Caroline and Bonnie turned to each other and traded confused looks. You didn't speak silence, but still know exactly what they were—or weren't—saying. 

Did we know he had a brother? Caroline asked and you couldn't help but stifle a laugh. She figured Caroline of all people would know the answer to that. Bonnie shook her head; Nope.

"Yes, you heard that right," You confirmed. "He has a brother. And before they got into that weird tense family moment, he told me that Stefan is looking for a rebound, not a relationship. Maybe this is a sign."

Caroline scoffed. "You can't be serious. A sign? Please. That is complete bullshit and you know it."

You blinked. Caroline wasn't one to curse very often.

"You barely even tried!" Caroline continued. "We've been friends for almost a decade, and I know that when you want something, you take it. That's why we have such a great dynamic!"

"She's right, you know," Jenna chimed in, stopping to chew a chocolate chip cookie. "It can't hurt to try again."

You stared at her with uncertainty. It could definitely hurt. It could hurt you. Besides...Holly didn't want you to start new relationships. There was too much that could go wrong. Too many questions that could be posed. "I don't know, it was a long shot anyway. I mean, you saw how things turned out with Matt."

"Yeah, we did," Caroline agreed. "And I wanted to gouge my eyes out with a pitchfork but-"

"Graphic."

"But I've seen you with Stefan, and it's..."

You watched her expectantly, waiting for her to finish the sentence. "It's what?"

"...different."

"What she means is watching you two interact doesn't make innocent bystanders, such as us, want to scrub our eyes out with bleach," Jenna offered, and Caroline nodded perkily in agreement.

You blinked at the pair. "Wow. Is that really how you guys felt when Matt and I were dating?"

"Well, I mean-" Bonnie started to say, but Caroline cut her off.

"Yes," The blonde practically exhaled, as if she'd been waiting to get that off her chest for years. But Caroline had never been one to bite her tongue—you wondered what the sudden confession was about. Especially since she seemed to be interested in Stefan herself. Why help you out when she could easily eliminate the competition?

"Moving on..." Bonnie continued, giving Caroline a warning look before turning to you with a warm smile. "You're finally happy. Really happy. Don't let your fear ruin that."

"What fear? It's not like I'm scared," You scoffed, grabbing a knife to chop vegetables. But after a brief moment under Bonnie's watchful eyes, you sheepishly looked up, biting your lip. "And if, hypothetically speaking, I am, what exactly do I have to be afraid of?"

Bonnie smiled sadly. "This is the happiest you've been since your parents died. And no offense, but you tend to be a little..."

"Pessimistic?" Caroline offered. "Cynical? Apathetic?"

"Yes..." Bonnie responded, a little irritated as she looked over at Caroline, who was too busy tasting her batch to notice. "But believe it not, the world isn't going to catch on fire because your life is good. And even if it does, I'll see it coming."

You laughed. It seemed this psychic thing was going to be a running gag and inside jokes in their lives. You didn't mind. It was nice having things almost return to normal.

"And," Bonnie went on. "Caroline heard from Bobbi, who heard from Kelly, who heard from Cristina, who heard from Margaret that Stefan is going to be at the festival. Maybe you two can patch things up when you get there?"

Caroline smirked. "And if you're really lucky, maybe you two can-"

"I think I wanna focus on a little soul-searching first," You interrupted, fighting back a smile. Your transformation was astounding, to say the least. Four months ago, you probably would've found a way into his pants, but you'd come to appreciate the internal beauty of those around you.

"Trust me." Caroline lowered her voice. "You'll have time to do plenty of searching."

"Caroline!" You and Bonnie exclaimed before bursting into giggles. Caroline smiled proudly while Jenna struggled to fight back a grin.

"This is why I'm the fun one," Caroline commented, pleased with herself.

"Whatever," You scoffed and threw a dish towel at her. Caroline squealed and tried to dodge, but it landed on her face. You and Bonnie erupted in a fit of giggles, and Caroline, though irritated, couldn't help but join in.

[oneforthemunny]

Can you please write a blurb about Nepo baby reader getting like super pissed at the paparazzi with her and like the twins when they’re super young and she just goes off and gets super pissed and gose off on them

Btw love rockstar eddie

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You huffed, looking out the tinted windows of the nail salon.

You'd taken the twins out for a girl's day, their first trip to the salon. Usually Farrah would accompany you, but you wanted it just to be you and your babies. Everything went great. The pedicures were in a private room, Sicily and Sienna on either side of you, giggling and squealing while they got their toes painted. You matched them, which they thought was delightful, wiggling toes between the cushiony separators that matched yours.

It was relaxing, even with three year olds, you were content with your babies. Until, you saw it. Crouched down at the front of the store, slipping on their little sandals, you saw it; the flash.

"Mama, they're takin' out picture." Sicily giggled, pointing out the window at the awaiting paparazzi. Only three, so far, but you knew it would grow soon enough.

"Who's taking our picture?" You gasped exaggeratedly, grinning up at her. She laughed, pointing at the people behind the window. "How rude! They're so silly, aren't they?"

Sienna laughed, leaning into her twin. The girls, even this young, knew about the people who took pictures. You tried to stay calm, tell them it was because they thought Daddy looked so pretty. Eddie was less reserved, throwing punches and slinging cameras if they got too close, barking threats towards them. A lot of things changed with fatherhood, especially how he now hated paparazzi. The man of before would have thrived in the sea of flashes, crowding his space and invading his privacy. Now, he went nuclear if he saw one around his girls.

"Ok, now you both stay so close to Mommy, ok? They want to take our picture but we can't let them, ok? They'll show Daddy our nail color before we get home." You raised your brows dramatically at them, their faces dropping. They wanted to surprise Eddie with their color, as if purple was an unheard of shade to get, and the paparazzi would be damned to ruin that.

Sienna gripped your hand, Sicily your other, pressing close to you in a tight shuffle towards the car. The paparazzi followed, shouting questions, and flashing lights. One got too close, camera shoved in Sienna's face.

"Mama!" Sienna wailed, pressing into you. "They're gonna get my toes!"

"Hey," You barked, teeth grit. "You need to get back, alright? I got a kid here."

"C'mon, Klein, you know the drill. We've got bills to pay too." The pap sneered, pulling his camera back.

Your jaw locked, anger trilling through your veins. You slung the car door open, purposely hitting the man standing there taking photos, smiling smugly when his camera clattered to the ground. While you buckled the girls into their seats, the camera flashes and shouting questions continued. Eddie would be furious you hadn't brought Big Mike, his body guard.

"You and Ed expecting another one?" One shouted, pointing his camera down to your stomach.

Your heart dropped. You were, but the two of you hadn't announced it yet. "What?" You snapped, slamming the door.

"Another baby? Already? What's that make this fifteen?" He snickered behind his lens.

"Are you fucking stupid?" You snapped before you could help it. Every ounce of media training to just ignore, not engage, was leaving your system. "Seriously, I know you're obviously dumb, but to ask someone if they're pregnant? No wonder you're still not married, Nate." You knew him, of course, he was the same one that always sold your photos and stories to The Sun, had for years.

"C'mon, I was just asking-"

"-and I'm just telling you, that if you're not out from behind my car, I'm going to run your ass over." You sneered, hand on the door. "And you and I both fucking know how that will end in court, don't we?" Your eyes narrowed behind your sunglasses.

Nate's camera slipped. He knew you were talking about the incident with Sephy, her first outing when he and some other boys crowded you and Eddie. One misplaced slip of a hand had shoved you with Sephy in your arms, jostling her. Eddie had beaten the guy with his own camera, taken to the station for assault. One call, and the charges were dropped. Your parents might've hated Eddie, but they loved their grand baby.

Nate shuffled back, pressing himself out of the way. "Better tell your other friends too." You snapped, shutting the door furiously.

You pulled out of the spot furiously, the crowd of paps a small blip in your rearview. The girls babbled happily, blissfully unaware and only concerned that they'd show Eddie before they could.

A few days later, your angry face was plastered on the front of some gossip column, a title aiding it about how Eddie had rubbed off on you. You rolled your eyes when he brought it to you.

"Told you to bring Mike, baby." Eddie shrugged, a smug little smirk that had your eyes rolling.

"I think I had it handled, clearly." You scoffed, nodding down at the photo.

Eddie grinned. "Think you did too." He smirked. "You look hot in this. Think I like it when you get all mad and mean."

"Shut up."

"Gonna keep this one. Put it in my spank bank for a rainy d-"

"Eddie. Shut up." You sneered.

Eddie paused, grinning again. "See?" He nodded down to his growing bulge in his dark jeans. "Totally does it for me, babe."

[daddysfangirls-dc]

The Arrangement

Ch 4 - Family Portrait

Damian Wayne x OC!Female

Prev | Next

Bruce was not pleased with Damian. He was upset with the knowledge that the girl had fled the city and angry when his son refused to disclose any more information about the girl. He hadn't spoken of her since that night in the cave. Although the others did try to get him to talk about her, they were unsuccessful. Eventually, most gave up. Bruce and Tim were still on his case. He was benched for a while, and he was pretty sure all his electronics were tagged and being spied on. All his gear had new trackers built in as well.

It didn't matter. Syn and Damian communicated via letters through Alfred. No one was aware of Alfred meeting Syn or the letters. This went on constant vigilantes and secret letters for several months. 

-

"Why didn't you tell us?" Dick asked as he stole one of Damian's fries. "Why didn't you tell us you had a fiance?" Damian sighed deeply. Dick felt bad for asking as he watched Damian slump forward, then quickly tense up, squaring his shoulder in defense.

" She is from my time with the League. I knew none of you would approve. "

"were you going to hide her forever?"

"no, she's my fiance. I would have still married her once I came of age. The likelihood of you all being involved would have been...less."

That hurt. Damian was more than likely prepared to have a life without them or support. He didn't believe anyone would support him more in his relationship, and he didn't think they cared. " I'm sorry"

"You've done nothing to warrant the need for an apology."

"You don't feel comfortable telling us about your fiance-"

"I'm not uncomfortable. I just know you all well enough to know all the possible outcomes. And I don't want her involved. She's already dealing with one side of my family, the murderous, egotistic, dominant, delusional side. She doesn't need to get involved with the egotistical, obsessive, dominant, unrestricted side." his appetite was gone. His food was now a distraction for him to pick out. " She already has to deal with her family and my maternal family. I don't want her to... I want her to have peace. "

"you really care about her?"

"She's my fucking fiance." the duh tone and deadpan expression was too much. Dick bit back his laugh; a chuckle slipped through.

"Apparently," he said, "Will we get a chance to meet her ?"

"Can you guarantee everyone will be on their best behavior?"

"No"

"Then not likely."

-

Syn took a deep breath before she took off quickly and skillfully, jumping over the estate's wall and running across the lawn. She laid low and stuck to the shadows, avoiding the security system. Opting against the door, she found an unlocked window on the first floor—how convenient! She slipped into the manor. The manor was empty; everyone was gone for their nightly activities. Signal was included as he had been following a lead since this morning.

She walked the halls slowly, stopping occasionally to look at hanging photos and paintings. She stopped in front of a painting, a family portrait. Two older gentlemen, four young men, and one girl. Everyone had very similar features. The oldest three guys and a girl had eyes with varying shades of blue. And the youngest, her love, was a beautiful shade of green. Despite knowing everything about everyone in the painting, most were strangers she never met. She had only known Alfred and Damian. 

"We'll be commissioning another soon." Alfred had seen her on the security cameras. After Disabling them before approaching. " Adding Duke"

"Why wasn't he in this one?" This painting was a few years ago, and Duke was part of the family then. 

"He was still new at the time and still grieving his parent's situation. He still had hope they'd get better."

"And now?"

"Bruce is not his father, but he is his family." 

Duke eventually accepted his parents' situation and its hopelessness. He knew the likelihood of getting his parents back was minimal and simply took what he could from them in his visits. He had accepted and was grateful this was his new family. 

"You like it," Syn said as she started walking down the hall, looking at photos. " Having a full house. So many grandbabies."

"The manor has never been so full," he smiled. " You have yet to tell me why you're here," he said bring the focus to more important matters. Like her sudden appearances after months. 

"I'd like to meet my future in-laws. Or at least get more information on them." 

"And you can't learn from them in a more appropriate setting." 

"If they are anything like Damian, No."

Alfred sighed. She was right. It would be a long while before she got behind the masks. Introductions were integrations. Greetings were intimations. Acts of affection were subtle pat-downs. No one in this family was normal. 

"Alright, I'll try the normal way. These photos have given me enough information to understand the dynamics of the main household." Syn said, hoping to please Alfred. Maybe the family would get some semi-normal or could at least act like it. Duke wasn't fooling anyone anymore. 

"How about dinner this Saturday?"

"I'll ask Damian. He's not aware of my presence yet."

"Understood." Comotion could be heard on his coms

"I'll show myself out. Goodnight, Alfred."

"Goodnight, Miss Syn"

-

Syn lay still. As she listened to the door open, she pulled her dagger to her chest and evened her breathing. Ready to jump. Ready to fight. "Why was I not made aware of your arrival?" the tension left her body. Relaxing her grip on her dagger and putting it back under her pillow. She took a moment before slowly sitting up and opening her eyes. Damian stood at the foot of her bed, arms crossed in his Gotham Academy uniform: Dark trousers, white button-up, blazer, and tie, all neat and tidy like she expected him to be. 

"You look good," he just glared. " How was school?" he just glared some more. She sighed.

"I knew you would have said no if I asked or waited for some elaborate plan."

"My apologies for wanting us to be prepared."

"Will we ever be prepared?" she asked. " For your family, will we ever be prepared?" Damian sighed he saqt on the edge of the bed she moved to sit next to him. 

"No...They're unpredictable imbeciles."

"We should start with proper introductions and go from there. AT least try for a bit of normalization. Alfred would appreciate it."

She was right. They couldn't continue their relationship without his family's involvement. They needed some kind of introduction, at least to make his family more aware of her, as she was going to stick around. He'd make sure of it. 

Damian took a deep breath, standing and straightening his blazer. " Alfred has informed you of Saturday dinner?"

"Yes, he has."

"I'll arrive on Saturday afternoon to help you dress and prep."

Syn jumped out of bed and followed him towards the kitchen. She found a bag of takeout on the counter he unpacked it as she sat down. "How was school?" she asked her earlier question.

"full of imbeciles" he was going to leave it at that. I do not particularly like the place. 

"I've never been."

At moments like these, Damian was reminded that despite growing up side by side for nearly a decade, he was still more privileged than she'd ever been. He had more titles, more rights, more teachers, he made more normal, more people that actually cared, more friends. He had simple things like pets, family outings(that didn't involve killing), school, and big things like forgiveness. Things she'd never be given.

He could tell her a little about school. And he did. 

[angstyaches]

The Hexagon: Part Five

Parts One-Two | Part Three | Part Four

Note: Thank you to anyone who's been following this mini plot! This is the last instalment in terms of getting them to safety, but there is an aftermath/recovery fic or two (or three?) in the works.

CW: effects of hunger/exhaustion, dangerous driving (driving while way too tired, do not do it), nausea, insecurity.

___

“Charlie.” 

The lines on the road swam back and forth, like eels moving through water. The white of the paint made no sense. It was as though Charlie’s eyes had to mix up a bunch of colours every few seconds to keep the white looking white. 

“Charlie, pull over.” 

Next to the steering wheel, an empty Coke bottle tipped from side-to-side in the cup holder. Charlie had found it there, half-full and lukewarm, when they’d gotten back to the car. He had gulped half of what was left before passing it to Shayne, and the sugar entering his system had felt like jumping into a cold swimming pool on a hot day – invigorating. It might have been sitting in his stomach like a ball of lead, but the energy boost had made Charlie feel invincible.  

For all of a few seconds. Long enough for him to feel somewhat okay about getting behind the wheel.

Charlie blinked. The white line snaked under the car. It wasn't supposed to do that. 

“Charlie!” Shayne snapped. “Did you hear me? I’ve got a signal, pull over.”

Right... Right, the plan had been to drive until one of their phones had enough battery to switch on, and there were enough bars to make a phone call. Charlie had been so caught up in simply keeping the tyres between the shifting lines that all of the other details had fallen out of his head. 

He flicked the indicator. He knew he had to check his mirrors, but for a gut-wrenching second, he wasn’t quite sure where they were. He found them, checked them all twice, glanced over his shoulder to make extra sure the road was clear. 

The second he had switched off the ignition, his whole body slumped. His lungs deflated from holding in a huge breath, as though he’d been underwater for the entire duration of the drive so far.

 “Sorry,” Charlie said.

“It's fine,” Shayne said quietly. He had Charlie's phone in one hand, connected to the charging port. His other hand was squeezing around the edge of the passenger seat, knuckles white, even now that the car had stopped. “You got us here. You did it.”

Charlie wasn’t sure if it had been a few seconds, minutes, or a half hour since they’d retrieved the car from the edge of the forest and followed the country lanes out to the main road. The white road markings were no longer whizzing past, but his eyes kept tricking him into thinking they were still crawling along, like skinny little conveyor belts laid out on the tarmac. 

He felt very much like he did after four or five beers. That was only a gut-churning thought if he focused on the fact that he’d just been operating a moving vehicle, so he decided not to. He closed his eyes. It was the only way he could stop colours from mixing and lines from crawling. 

“Hello?” a tinny voice asked. 

The sharp jolt of fear in his chest let Charlie know he’d dozed off, dipping into microsleep with the steering wheel pressing into his forehead. He had to quickly remind himself that he had already parked the car.

“H-hey,” Shayne said into the phone. His hands were trembling so badly that he was using both of them to keep the phone against his ear. Charlie wanted to reach over and squeeze his leg for comfort, but couldn’t find the strength.

“Shayne, is that you?” 

Charlie opened his eyes a crack. He would never have thought he’d be so happy to hear Elliott’s voice; but for the past day, he hadn't thought he'd ever hear another voice again, besides his own and Shayne's.

“Um, yeah, it’s me, I –” 

“Oh my god, you little –?”

Shayne winced and held the phone further away. He turned down the volume and brought it back towards his ear, staring straight through the windscreen. He let Elliott ramble for a few more seconds. He looked like he was struggling to draw breath.

“Charlie and I got caught in something,” he said. “No, El, I mean we were actually... fucking stuck. There was this – this trap, set up to catch demons, and it – it worked on us. We couldn’t get out.” 

“Excuse me?” Even with the volume reduced, Charlie heard that clear as day from Elliott's end.

“Could you come and get us?” Shayne’s voice broke. He had held it together long enough to get Charlie to the car, to support Charlie through the drive to the main road, but now he was crumbling, and Charlie’s heart felt like it was being wrung out. “Please, Elliott, we’re – we’ve got Charlie’s dad’s car, but Charlie’s not... doing good. He m-might be in shock or something, I don't know. And we're just...” 

Charlie’s stomach twisted. 

“I wouldn’t usually ask, you know that. But he’s –” Shayne froze. He shrank a little in the passenger seat. By the time Elliott had finished talking back to him, his eyes were bright with tears. “Okay. Yeah. Sending it now.” 

Before they hung up, Charlie thought he heard ‘be there soon’.

It seemed like a big promise to make; Elliott didn’t even know where they were yet. Charlie knew Elliott could travel at unnatural speeds, but surely there were limits to a power like that. Charlie could usually ramble on about Elliott and his recklessness until the cows came home, but right now, even that didn’t hold any appeal.

He just wanted to sleep. The thought of his own bed still being so far away made tears well up in his eyes. He felt like a toddler, ready to sob until someone could put him down for a nap.

As soon as he had slid the phone onto the dashboard, Shayne hugged his arms to his waist. He shut his eyes, grimacing, and drew a long, shaky breath. 

He was falling to pieces just like Charlie, but he’d somehow managed to hold it together long enough to get them to safety, to make sure help was on the way.  

Charlie hesitated. Maybe the kindest thing to do was to just pretend, to let Shayne think he was breaking down privately, but Charlie couldn’t do it. He was drained, empty, probably in shock, and yet staying down would have been the hardest thing in the world for him to do. 

“Lovely,” he murmured. 

Shayne jumped, rolling his eyes as he glanced away for a few seconds. His shoulders hunched as he turned back towards Charlie. “Are you okay?” 

Charlie opened his mouth but could only manage a breathless sigh. Of course he wasn’t okay, but admitting it would have felt like punching Shayne in the gut, so he didn’t. He pushed his shoulders into the seat and tilted his head back. It wasn’t as easy on his exhausted muscles as flopping against the steering wheel had been, but at least there was no pressure on his head. 

“Um...” Shayne glanced towards the phone. “Elliott’s go – going to come and get us.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Shayne reached over and cupped Charlie’s thigh. If he hadn't been so sure that he would flop as soon as his weight shifted, Charlie would have leaned across the seats to put his head on Shayne's shoulder. God, he had spent so much of his time in the hexagon lying on his back or his side, and still Charlie’s body and brain just longed to be horizontal, to go limp.

“Tired?”

A dull ache pulsated throughout Charlie's bones. “So tired.”

“El's gonna drive,” Shayne mumbled. “You could move to the back seat and try to sleep. If you want?” 

“Mmm.” The back seat. Charlie hadn’t even thought of that. He let himself out through the drivers’ side door, propping his arm against the side of the car. The scampering white lines on the road made his head swirl until he turned away from them.

He climbed into the back seat.

After a moment of fresh air, he realised how sickly warm the air inside the car was, after days of being parked up. Charlie's insides felt just as stagnant. The flat Coke gurgled violently in his belly, the syrupy taste still present on his tongue.

Despite all of that, Charlie quickly found a position that didn’t make him feel like his bones were at war with each other. As soon as his eyes closed, he remembered that he had wanted to ask Shayne how he was doing, maybe even ask him what exactly had happened out there, but as soon as he found a sliver of comfort, sleep found him. 

___ 

Shayne jumped to attention at a soft tapping sound.

He hadn't been sleeping, not really, but he'd definitely spaced out.

Everything felt too close; the backs of the car seats, the footwells, the press of the trees just outside. Only Charlie’s closeness felt right. He’d dropped off to sleep with his head propped against the door, and Shayne had been able to lean and put his head on Charlie’s shoulder.

A face was peering through the back window closest to Shayne. Elliott’s gaze was solemn as he gave a little wave, then wiggled his hand back and forth as though he were holding invisible keys. 

Shayne’s head swam as he lifted it, nodding towards the steering wheel. He’d taken Charlie’s keys and tucked them there before they’d climbed into the back seat. 

In the blink of an eye, Elliott dissolved into a twittering grey cloud that slipped through the passenger side door and across the centre console. He re-materialised in the driver’s seat, his shoulders filling out the backrest. He raised a hand to adjust the rear-view mirror. His pinstriped sleeves were pushed up to his elbows. 

He caught Shayne's eye in the mirror, a silent greeting. Shayne swallowed heavily, though it didn’t help with the tight feeling in his throat.

“Hmm,” Elliott hummed softly, finding the keys and putting them in the ignition.

Shayne steadied a hand against Charlie's arm, ready to comfort him in case the car rumbling to life stirred him from his sleep. He continued drooling against the car door. Of course he did.

“This is what middle-aged white men are driving nowadays? Outrageous,” Elliott mused softly. 

I wouldn’t usually ask. As soon as Shayne had blurted that out on the phone, Elliott had done something that Shayne had only heard him do once before, back when Felix had left, and it had briefly seemed as though he would never come back. 

Elliott had choked up.

Now, in the car, he was reaching for the aviators hanging from the front of his buttoned shirt.

Wouldn’t usually ask? he had repeated, his voice laced with hurt. Shayne had felt a lurch in the back of his throat as he wondered why the fuck he had felt the need to say that in the first place.

In the driver's seat, Elliott casually slipped his sunglasses on.

“Thank you,” Shayne mumbled.

Elliott shook his head and shifted the car into gear. “Where the hell else would I be, kid?”

[itmeansiris]

The Solar System Legacy Challenge: Romantic Interest Gen 1 pt.61

The club concluded their gathering around 5 pm. Madison heads to the counter with the intentions of grabbing a pick me up and heading home. She was getting worried about Paris. She'd hadn't thought about her most of the night but now she couldn't help but wonder if her friend had stayed or went to the party alone. She'd considered texting her when she first arrived but at the time her annoyance with Paris was still fresh making it easy to tell herself, she was teaching her a much needed lesson, she couldn't always have her way.

Conflicted over the situation with Paris she grabs her coffee and opts for a private seat outside. She opens up her copy of "There's always Something Else" and picks up where she left off. She loses herself in the stories, and Paris is pushed to the back of her mind once more. She's only brought back to the real world by the sudden feel of rain. She'd been so engrossed she hadn't noticed the clouds that had blocked out the late evening sun. She quickly packs up her book and heads for the exit.

She reaches the gate but stops short as she nearly runs into a man staring at his watch annoyed. She takes a moment to appreciate him. His midnight curls were cut short in the back but were long in front and hung low over his eyes. His skin was bronze like he had been kissed by the sun. He was dressed comfortably in his cardigan and loose fitting jeans.

Before she could look away he looks up, catching her watching him. He smiles and greets her Tomarang style. All rational thoughts abandon her as she met his hazel green eyes. She's left frozen and speechless. He moves to her side, approaching slowly as if worried he would scare her off.

Madison: WAKE UP!

She shouts internally. Her brain restarts and she finds the will to return the Tomarani introduction. The attraction is instant and she feels her mood shift to flirty. Finally he spoke his voice as beautiful as the sim that produced it.

???: Hello there

Madison: Hello

???: I’m sorry to have blocked your departure. I was so preoccupied I didn’t notice I’d stopped in the walkway. May I buy you a coffee to say sorry.

Excited by the offer and completely surprised by how proper he was she agrees.

???: Just a second, let me text my sister. I'm supposed to see her after I leave here and if I don’t bring her anything I won't be invited to thanksgiving dinner. I’ve been waiting on her reply.

Madison's attraction flares as he affectionately talks about his sister. She suddenly wants to know everything about him. Strange this instant, irrational attraction.

???: Shall we?

As she follows him into the cafe she couldn't resist the urge to check him out further and watcher did she like what she saw.

Beckett: Okay! So, you’re an only child, born and raised in San Myshuno. Who, loves to read and is a talented painter. You moved to Brindleton Bay to paint the sea, you're cat, Pumpkin was it?

She nods, encouraging him to continue.

Beckett: Right, Pumpkin was a gift from your mother. A cat that you hated at first but now secretly love. You're a terrible baker, you play a mean game of darts and you hate Alternative music. The only thing I don't know is your name.

Madison laughs at his mock anger, enjoying this man who just 2 hours ago had been a prefect stranger.

Madison: Sorry Beckett a deals a deal and you lost.

While getting to know each other over coffee they'd realized they’d never told each other their names. Before they knew it they were playing an unspoken game to get the other to reveal their name first. Madison had mentioned her skills at darts and Beckett suggested they play. The prize, whoever won had to disclose their name first. Sadly he had lost, but he was a good sport and kept his word.

Madison: Beckett. The younger brother of two. Beckett the uncle to two nieces and two nephews. Beckett the lactose intolerant, home chef who grew up in Tomarang and moved to San Myshuno during college to study business.

Beckett: Rub it in, but if you don't tell me your name I'll be forced to save your number as “Darts Girls” and when I tell my sister about you I'll give you a weird name. Like Humming Bird or Rice. I like Rice.

She laughs at his teasing, but his words were playing through her head on repeat "When I tell my sister about you"

Madison: You're going to tell your sister about me?

Beckett: Well yeah. She's going to want an explanation for why her cinnamon buns are 3 hours late. Plus why wouldn't I tell her about the beautiful girl I met at her favorite cafe and asked out on a date.

Her heart soars.

Madison: Well you can tell your sister that…."Madison" said yes.

They exchange numbers and a hug before Madison heads home.

PREV

NEXT

Pumpkin Farm Cafe build by EA ID: marmeladart on the gallery CC Free!

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Get Electrocuted, Idiots

Whumptober Day 7 ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES | Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them."

Whumptober Prompts List | Masterpost

Fandom: Original Work

Words: 800

Tag List: @fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds @pigeonwhumps @mr-orion @scaewolf

@the-ellia-west

CW: cornered, threats, swearing, fantasy whump, struck by lightning, death, hyperventilation

A/N: the Mages in my WIP Trials of the Six are prime victims for the Magic With A Cost trope. The human body isn't equipped for the amount of magic that travels through it when a Mage uses their abilities and so has an adverse reaction. The exact reaction varies depending on which element the Mage controls. Examples are given in the character picrews linked in the WIP masterpost.

Enough about the magic system. On with the whump! >:3

----------

"Look, we don't want any trouble."

The words came casually enough to Korfel's lips. But Jarsali didn't miss how the fingers of his right hand twitched, desperate to grab the hilt of his scimitar. She didn't blame him. She was as on edge as he was, and she would feel much safer with her staff in her hands rather than strapped to her back.

Unfortunately, she had no time to draw it. The squadron had come out of nowhere, fanning out in a semicircle, pressing her and Korfel up against the cliff face. They hadn't meant to stray so near the Claystone Cliffs, but the road they had taken from a small mining town wound along the layered mountains, making for a treacherous journey.

Today, however, falling was but one of many of Jarsali's concerns, not the priority. She wasn't sure how the squadron they'd encountered over a week ago had tracked them down, but here they were, curved swords drawn.

"I don't care what you want," the squad leader---evident from the coat of arms painted upon the breastplate of his armor---snapped. "Korfel Domin and Jarsali Fortus, you under arrest on the charges of conspiracy and treason against the Conclave. You will surrender and be brought to Alynthi for a trial."

Korfel scoffed. "Pile of bullshit. You just want the bounty on our combined heads."

The other squadron members chuckled, but the leader's jaw tightened. "You can go to Alynthi alive, or dead. We have you outnumbered and cornered."

"I hadn't noticed," Jarsali quipped. She eyed the group critically before continuing. "Look, as lovely as I've heard Alynthi is at this time of year, we have no interest in attending a rigged trial ending in public execution."

"As I said," the squad leader said, growing even more annoyed, "I don't care what you want. There is no outcome where you make it out of here alive or free. So I highly suggest you throw down your weapons now."

Jarsali tapped her Mage energy, allowing its cracking power to fill her. A gust of wind blew over them, almost forcing the soldiers back a step. She cocked her head as her hair whipped wildly around her face. "Do you know exactly how we got those bounties?" She asked, smiling at the look on the squad leader's face.

"'Sali...." Korfel hissed warningly.

"It's us or them, Kor," she replied. "This constitutes as an emergency, doesn't it? Look," she said quietly, glancing upward, "a storm's coming."

Korfel swore vehemently and dove to the ground.

"Mage!" The squad leader shouted, reaching for his sword. But before he could do anything that mattered, the sky opened and rained lightning over the Tyan squadron. The metal armor they wore was the perfect conductor.

The scent of ozone and burning flesh filled the air, and only Jarsali and Korfel were left untouched. The body of the nearest soldier twitched in his death throes, and while some could have survived, it was unlikely they would be in any fit state to attack them. Jarsali stopped tapping her Mage energy.

And the air immediately left her lungs.

She staggered and fell to her knees, hands immediately going to her throat as she struggled to draw breath. The world spun around her, and her heart raced, beating heavily in her ears and drowning out almost all sounds.

But one noise broke through the relentless tha-thump-tha-thump-tha-thump.

"You're okay. You're doing great. You're not dying today."

Korfel.

Slowly, painstakingly, Jarsali gained control over her breathing, using the exercises she'd learned all those years ago, using her abdominal muscles and diaphragm to take deep, controlled breaths. With that under control, everything else calmed. Her heartbeat slowed, the world steadied, and she noticed the tingling in her arms and face.

She exhaled shakily and looked at Korfel, who was seated beside her, watching her carefully and not without concern. "How do you feel?" He asked gently.

She nodded. "Better. Ugh, I think I used too much Mage energy. Drew too close to my limits."

"No shit," Korfel remarked, glancing at the bodies on the other side of the road. He looked up and down the road. "We need to get moving. By the time the bodies are discovered, I want to be long gone. Are you up for walking?"

"Are you jealous that I didn't let you have any of the fun?"

Korfel rose and offered her a hand. "Next squad that catches us off-guard is getting buried in a sinkhole. Or a landslide. I'll decide on the way."

Jarsali grinned and allowed him to haul her upright. "Personally I'd love to see you do those massive spikes again." She glanced at the fallen soldiers, and her smile faded. "D'you think any of them were there, that day?"

"Doubtful. Most of them are too young. And it's not like the entire standing Tyan army was on those cliffs that day." He eyed her for a long moment. "Were you expecting some sort of catharsis?"

"I don't know."

"Come on. We'll sort through your feelings on the road."

"All right."

[vinetae]

Hi could I request some fluffy fluff of jungkook getting sick with a bad sneezy cold in the rain because he was playing with bam and girl y/n caring for him or you can make it Ot7 and his brothers find out he is sick and care for him . Just fluffy and comfort im sad these days need some peace .

Aww, I'm so sorry you're feeling down, love. I hope you feel better soon! <3 let me know if you'd like a part 2, or you can request something else 🥰 Thank You for the ask!

(I do not apologize for the smut. I will NEVER apologize for my steamy scenes. Thank you and good day). 😉

My Love - drabble

Genre: F2L, Implied smut, 16+

Warnings: term 'maid' used, heavy make-up session, no confessions, just kissing, Jungkook being stubborn and not following Y/n's rules, Dom!Jungkook, Sub!Reader, cute cuddles and lots of banter. (The dialogue makes it seem like enemies to lovers instead lmao).

.

"Ah! Bam! Bring it back "Jungkook tells out, a 1,000-watt smile paints his cheeks as he chases after the now grown puppy. Your lips curve to a smile, watching your best friend enjoy this beautiful sunny day. 

Drip. 

Drip. 

Boom. 

The thunder struck from nowhere, startling you from your nearly-finished chapter. Hands flying to help your body stand, calling out to Jungkook to hurry up on inside. His body twists, scrunching his nose at the thought. 

"Oh come on, Y/n!" It's just water." He chuckles, throwing the orange flying disk towards the little shed placed in the back of land, huffing as Bam had no run towards the tattered porch in search of dryness. Jungkook bends at the knees, snapping and clapping to call the large dog over. He doesn't budge.

"Ah, you two are weenies." His hands throw into the air, acting as if he'd been being filmed for a dramatic scene from a Korean romance TV show. Heavy drops of rain flow down the side of his cheeks, as you watch the cyan blue material of his hoodie darken, being soaked by mother nature's tears. Your lips roll out a heavy sigh, glancing over to the dog who'd been sat near the door, waiting for entrance. Bam and you share a similar look towards the adult child, shaking your head. 

"He's an idiot." 

..

And an idiot he was. 

The next morning you two had been planning a hike up the nearby mountain, in hopes of getting to seep in a workout for the day. His plan, nor yours. He basically had to beg you to come with him on that 3-hour hike. You're thankful the rain had downed so much, making the hiking trails nearly impossible to grip with your shoes. Now, plan B had been just to wait in the living room, as Jungkook hooked up the system so he could play Overwatch. 

Your legs fold inwards, hugging tightly to your body as you scroll on Instagram for the next hour. Only the quiet sounds of morning drips of rain tap the window as well as Jungkook's slight groans of frustration from loosing a match. 

"Oh come on! I totally had that headshot!" Hid hands throw into the air, frustrated from not receiving the point he's so earned. Leaning back against the couch, he finds a more comfortable position between your thighs. It hadn't been unheard of for friends to cuddle a bit, especially for you two. 

You'd known each other for almost a decade, meeting back in middle school when you'd become a transfer student for Mrs. Choi's class. Jungkook had been quite a shy, quiet boy. Very much the classic 'anime scene where the main love interest sits by the window, tapping his fingers onto the desk, while looking out somberly'. Even though girls had practically been falling to his feet as if he'd been a king, Jungkook still never paid them any mind, and instead quickly flew past them to avoid any confrontation. 

That is, until you came along. 

Being the transfer student, you'd been just as nervous. Not knowing where to sit, the class schedules, and being in a whole new atmosphere than your old school back in the States had your hands practically glued to the insides of your hoodie. The dress code had become more strict, due to the uniforms every student was mandated to wear. 

Crashing into the most notorious boy in class, making the two of you knock into the lockers, hadn't been the most ideal first day of school. You're quick to extend your hand out to offer a helping hand, but he just takes off in the other direction. 

After a few months, the halls had been buzzing with rumors of a guy in your class being picked to start training at a small idol company. Not really knowing what all that meant, you shrugged it off. Taking a few steps into class, your feet halt when Jungkook's eyes meet yours. A shy tint of red brushes his cheeks, as he makes his way towards the side, taking a seat. 

..

"Do I scare you?" Your arms swing by yours sides, anticipating the answer. Jungkook's hand comes to rest on his locker handle, eyeing your changed expressions quickly. His voice is soft and small. 

"N-No.." he sounded unsure of himself. Your hands press against the locker, sighing in frustration. His body leans away from yours. 

"Why don't you like girls?" You question, leaning your head to lower your voice. 

"Are you gay?" His eyes widened, choking on an invisible foreign object lodged into his throat. Hand coming to pat his chest, as another wave of blood red hues splotches his cheeks. 

"I-I..uh- class." Just like that, he's gone. 

..

It had only been when you two met at the same club one night right after graduation. A few drinks later, and he'd become the life of the party. You, on the other hand, couldn't handle your liquor very well, being bent over the outside of the club, as one of your girlfriend's had been rubbing at your back, holding your hair.

Jungkook stumbles through, eyebrow quivering at the strange scene. His eyes trailing down the lengths of the woman's beautiful figure, admiring the way her little sparkly black dress hugged her curves gently. However, the scene spayed before him had been anything but a turn-on. He'd decided to come help the poor woman, bending over alongside her to give some comfort. It hadn't been until he recognized the little penguin earrings she'd been wearing that he finally realized it had been the girl from his class. 

"Y/n?"

The rest had been history.

..

"You little peice of sh-" 

"Jungkook." Your voice, stern and commanding. Bam's ears perk at the sudden outburst of his daddy, hopping down from your side of the couch, nuzzling into his side to make sure everything had been okay. 

Jungkook sighs, patting his pup's head lightly before focusing his attention back towards the video screen. 

"Sorry Bam-ie. Daddy's okay." He scratches behind Bam's ear, making the large dog's tail flick with happiness. Suddenly, Jungkook's loudness makes both Bam and your's were perk. Setting down your phone to the side, you sit up, reaching around to feel his forehead. 

"Koo, you're burning up, dummy." You scold, pulling his permed, curly natural locks back out of his face. A smile curls his lips, tilting his head back in content, landing in your lap. 

"Mmm, that feels good." He sighs, loosening his tight grip on his control to instead focus on your small strokes ontip of his head. You lower your head, Spiderman-ing this situation. 

"I told you earlier that playing in the rain wasn't good for you." He whines, tilting his head to the side to look out the window. 

"It's fine. I'm not-" he jerks up, chest sending him into a fit of coughs. After a few seconds, he calms down, making your eyes roll to the side. 

"Aright, that's it." You stand, walking to unplug the control to his console, as well as his Xbox. He lets out a string of groans in retaliation, but you'd pay no mind. Arm lifting to make the heavy man stand, you point towards his room. "Bed, now." 

A smirk tugs his lips, eyes swollen and groggy but still could muster out a little tease. "Mmm, sounds great, baby~" you bend down, throwing the controller from his lap onto the couch, pinching his ear to make him stand. 

"Ow ow ow ow ow! Alright alright! I'm going!" He lets out a few whines, as you lead him to the bedroom. His lips poke out in a pout.

"So mean." He teases.

You push on his center chest, lowering his body to rest under the covers. Hand coming to rest on top of his forehead, making a low white echo in the small room. 

"You're warm." 

"I think you mean, hot." 

"If you were hot I'd be having to drive your dumbass to the hospital right now." He huffs, wiggling down into his little cocoon comforter you'd created. His head tilts to the side, flashing a cute bunny smile. 

..

"Y/nnnn" jungkook drags out, making your groan as you take a few steps into his bedroom. Tissues spread all over the comforter, as his laptop propped up onto the side, as he'd been laying on his stomach while watching the newest Netflix original, Bridgeton. (Not sponsored). 

"Yeah?" You reply. A quick smile flashes across his face, holding out his little thermos you'd fixed for him. 

"Be a dear and fetch me some more, liquid." His voice is posh, much like the one of the characters from the TV show. 

"Talk to me like that against and I'll put rat poison in your liquid." You bite back, snatching the bottle from his hand. He faints a hurt expression. 

"Y/n, that's not how you treat the sick." His voice is scratchy, but audible. Mainly because you'd learned to read through his mumbled voice all throughout middle and high school. His eyes doe and cutesy, making your fists clench at the sides. Letting go of a sigh, you compose yourself once more. 

His smile shines through. "Much better." His arm stretches to the side, groaning as he pops a few of the disks in his back, shaking his body. "I'll take the water now."

His eyebrow quirks, smirking at your flushed cheeks in anger. 

"You're a real milker when you're sick, you know that?" He chuckles, twisting over to the side to spread out on his back, finding a different position. 

"I don't think this is how you treat your king, Y/n." 

"I should've left you outside in that hellstorm." 

His smile widens. "But you didn't."

"I should've."

His body props up, lips leaning closer to yours in proclamation. 

"But you didn't. Now, pheasant," 

Eye roll. 

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Missy." His tone leaves a small burning sensation in the pit of your stomach. A victorious smirk plasters his face. "Now then. I'll be needing a few things from you, pheasant." 

"Keep calling me that and-"

"I won't have lips to blab with, yeah yeah. We've known each other for almost ten years, you really need to come up with better threats." You scoff at his arrogance. 

Why I oughta-

"Firstly, you are to address me as sir." 

You laugh out loud. "Hah! Like hell I woul-"

His expression hardens, a smirk pressing his lips. Voice lowering to a dangerous level as he leans in. 

"Or i'll leave this ass so red, Rudolph will be jealous." 

Eyes widening at the sudden comment, you heed his word hesitantly. God knows how many boxing classes he's taking so far. On top of all the workouts he loves to do? He'd beat you to a pulp in one second flat. 

"F-fine." His eyebrow quirks, awaiting another syllabus from you. 

"What'd I just say?" 

He's an asshole. 

Swallowing your pride (which had been very high and mighty), you Play along to his little games, cursing yourself for ever getting into this situation in the first place. 

"Yes, s..sir." you choke out, cringing from your own words. His smile widens victoriously. 

"Good. Now," he peels back to the blanket, pointing to the bottom of his bed. "Rub my feet."

..

You're really gonna kill him. You don't care if his net worth is 500 or 50 million, you are gonna kill him. 

All day you ever heard was-

"Maid!"

"Pheasant!"

"Y/n!"

You were seriously on the verge of strangling this man. No wonder the boys would always send him home when he got sick. He's a pain to deal with!!

"Oh Y/n-"

THAT'S. IT. 

You throw the little towel you'd been using to wipe off the dishes, staring into his bedroom. He flinches at the sudden outburst as your voice yells at the top of your lungs. Bam's ears perked in alert. 

"I've had it with you! Getting me to rub your feet, do your chores, fluff you DAMN PILLOWS. I mean, who's so incapable of fluffing his own fucking pillow!?" By this point your voice had been strained and tired. Your body ached with exhaustion, sleep threatening to do a mandatory shut down of it all. 

His fingers toy with the little thin sheet of his comforter, while his other hand had been patting Bam's stomach in patterns. 

"And Another thing! This whole 'sir' act ain't working anymore, buddy boy. So, if you want something, you've got legs." 

All you could hear was the growing of his chuckle falling past his lips. His head throws back, laughing at your composure. 

"Your face is red'' he comments, throwing the comforter off of his body to place his feet on the floor. He rises, towering your figure easily. 

"I just wanted you to keep me company. Honestly I didn't think I would get away with half the stuff you did." He chuckles, twisting your figure around. Before you know it, you've landed on the bed, flat on your back. His body comes to tower over yours, before plopping right down beside you. 

"Well i-I'm just a nice person." You mumble. Arms folding across your chest in retaliation to this. You hated how happy he was right now, laughing at your exhaustion. 

"Mmmhm. Why don't we watch a movie here? Jimin texted me saying that they'll be back soon." He replies, typing a few characters onto his keyboard before another movie pops up. 

You chuckle at his decision. "Really?"

His eyebrow raises in confusion. "What?" 

Your hand is lowered, pointing at the screen."sharknado?" 

A smile paints his face. "Well of course. The best cinematic movie ever to be produced!" 

Your eyes roll, nudging his side in combativeness. "Better than Iron Man?" 

"Hey now." His voice faints actuality, straining to keep a straight face. Your head tilts back, chuckling at his response. 

"Mhm, that's what I thought."  Your back hits the headboard, but he's quick to catch it. 

"Ah, more condition." Your head tilts in question, fists being ready to knock the shit outta this little pri-

"You must address me as 'my love'." 

"What? Since when were those the rules?" 

He smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, cuddling up into your side. "Since I made them up." 

"I'm not doing that, kook."

He pouts. "Okay fine. Then 'the best boyfriend in the entire world' will suffice." 

"Hah!" You slap his leg in a comedic way. "In your dreams, koo. Besides, you're not my boyfriend." His head tilts to the side. 

"Hmm, I think we must fact check this hypothesis-" And just like that, his lips crash onto yours. The hushed sounds of the laptop play in the background, as his tattooed hand comes up to stroke your cheek. The top of his tongue fighting for dominance, in which you're quick to give. Your hand reaches down, tugging on the hem of his shirt to lift it, fingertips dragging along the hidden dips of his abs, a moan groans against your lips mid-exchange. He's quick to pull you in his lap, as your straddle him, hands carding through his messy locks, as you both share a passionate, but sloppy kiss. 

When coming back up for air, you pull away, as you both are left breathless. Chests heaving, trying to calm yourself. Eyes locked onto each other, as the sounds of your chests rising and falling in weight, fills the spaces in. His chocolaty irises bard into yours, eyelashes blowing lightly from your gentle breaths rolling down his features. 

Soon, you cut the tension. "That's gross, Kook." His heart drops at your words. Was he a bad kisser? Did his breath stink? Do you think his hard-on right now is gross??

A smile presses your cheeks, brushing his bangs out of his face. "Now I'm gonna get sick." A relieved chuckle exhales his chest. Hands pulling your hips further up his body, wanting to hold you closer. 

"We'll be sick together, Jagiya."

You glance down, seeing the sheet of his sick sweat rub onto your skin. "Ah, damn it. I'm all gross now."

A smirk tugs his lips. "Shower?" 

You think for a second before responding. "Sure, but this time, YOU rub my feet." 

He chuckles, carrying bridal style towards his bathroom, setting you down onto the toilet's lid before pecking your forehead. 

"Yes, my love." 

.

.

.

[rosanna-writer]

we said hello and your eyes look like coming home (16/?)

Summary: A canon-divergent AU where the bond snaps for Rhys on Calanmai, Feyre unwittingly accepts it, and Fire Night magic proves to be more transformative than anyone bargained for. Feyre drags a mate she hardly knows out from Under the Mountain, then puts him back together as war with Hybern approaches. Warnings: dubious consent, canon-typical sexual violence, canon-typical violence Rating: Explicit Chapter Word Count: ~4.3k

They bang. Finally.

Read on AO3 or you can find the sixteenth chapter below the readmore.

ch. 1 - 10 | ch. 11 - she underestimated just who she was stealing from | ch. 12 - no amount of freedom gets you clean | ch. 13 - stay stay stay | ch. 14 - call it what you want to | ch. 15 - even when you're sleeping, keep your eyes open | ch. 16 - you drew stars around my scars

Rhys's wings were redder than I'd originally thought. I hadn't noticed it until one morning a few days later, when sunlight streaming in from the window illuminated the membranes from the back, making them appear almost translucent. As I sipped my morning tea, my eyes kept drifting to the intricate network of veins, the outline of the delicate bones, and the gleaming, razor-sharp talons.

Cauldron, they were beautiful.

I hadn't had much time to admire them until then. The past few days had been full of training in the mornings and then reading lessons while Rhys caught up on the state of the Night Court and Prythian. For now, it was all we could handle. There was still so much we were both putting off, but neither one of us had slept through the night since our return.

But that morning, Cassian had insisted on a rest day, so I let myself stare over my mug of tea because we had the time for once. I wasn't quite ready to face a blank canvas just yet—and when I did, there were other things I needed to get out of my system first—but I'd paint this view one day.

Despite all the shameless flirting, I was still fairly certain Rhys didn't want to be ogled over breakfast, so I said, "How do you get a shirt over your wings?" I hadn't noticed telltale buttons on the back of the tunic he was wearing.

His eyes sparked as he cocked his head at me, his curiosity at my sudden question obvious. My cheeks heated. "I generally use magic to seal it shut," he said slowly.

"And how do you get them clean in the bath?"

"Sponges. Surely you're familiar with the concept?" Rhys said drily. I shot him an irritated look that just made him smirk. When he spoke again, I could have sworn his voice dropped a bit lower as he added, "So many questions this morning. Why?"

"I didn't have a chance to ask before." It wasn't really a lie—I hadn't shied away from asking the Inner Circle questions before I'd gone Under the Mountain, but once I'd realized exactly why Illyrian wings were so sensitive, I'd hesitated to ask much about them. Cassian and Azriel would have humored me, but there were some things that I didn't want to discuss with my mate's brothers.

"Come touch them if you're curious."

I stood up so quickly that I nearly knocked over my chair, then froze. "Are you sure?"

He certainly didn't look unsure, not with the way he was sitting with his legs spread, wings flared out wide behind him and one arm on the back of his chair. If anything, he looked arrogant. But it wasn't quite enough—I still wanted to hear him say it.

As I stepped around the table, I caught the slight movement of his throat bobbing. "Please touch my wings," he said.

I stopped just in front of him. To get my hands on his wings with him sitting down, I'd either need to put one hand on the back of the chair for balance as I leaned in…or I'd have to straddle his lap.

"You never had them out Under the Mountain."

His eyes didn't leave my face, even as I felt his fingers interlace with mine. "If something is precious to you, it's safest kept hidden."

Velaris. Our mating bond. And his wings, too. Away from prying eyes, there was security that came from being shrouded in darkness, and I'd felt that at the very core of the Night Court's magic. Stealth was key to hunting, and perhaps years of moving undetected through the woods had shaped me in the same way.

"No one else has ever…" I whispered, trailing off.

"I'd never let myself be vulnerable in that way. Not unless it's with you."

I didn't ask if it was because he loved me or because of the mating bond—I didn't care. Rhys trusted me, and that was the important part.

There was no point in hesitating or doing this by halves. I made myself comfortable on his lap, resting my thighs on either side of his hips. His hands settled on my waist.

I ran a finger down the membrane of his wing, careful to use the pad and not scrape it with my nail. It was smooth and surprisingly cool, almost like silk, but stretchier than I would have guessed. I kept dragging my finger down, moving it closer to where the wing met his back.

Rhys hissed and bucked his hips, jerking at the contact with a sensitive spot. I let out a squawk of surprise, and if he hadn't tightened his grip around my middle, he would have knocked me off his lap.

I started to ask if he was alright, but he just laughed and said, "I should have known you'd go straight for the most sensitive places."

Interesting. I skimmed my finger along his wing again, closer to the talon, where I guessed it wasn't quite as sensitive. If he'd let me, I'd map out every inch of his wings with my hands, learn everything until I knew them as intimately as I knew my own body.

Now that I was closer, I saw the scars. Or more accurately, I felt them—they were old and faint, but slightly stiff under the pressure from my finger. None of them were particularly large, but his wings were covered in them.

Rhys had the same healing magic as any other High Fae. Scars like this…they were the result of torture, intentional cruelty by someone with magic who knew what they were doing. And they'd already been there before he'd been trapped Under the Mountain.

"These are from the War, aren't they?" I said.

"Yes. They don't hurt as much as they used to."

I traced one with a finger, watching his face carefully for any sign of pain. He just shifted his hips under me. It gave me the confidence to splay my entire palm against his wing and slide it slowly down to that sensitive place from before. His answering groan heated my blood, and as I leaned down to kiss him, I ground against the rapidly-hardening length of him.

Rhys was still gripping my waist, as if now of all times he'd decided to be something of a gentleman, which was ridiculous when I was already straddling his lap. But maybe…I'd rushed him. It was still so soon after everything we'd just gone through.

I tipped my head back to look at him. "Do you want this?"

"Like I've never wanted anything else," he said, voice so rough it was nearly unrecognizable.

"Then move your hands down."

He slid both hands to my ass and squeezed, pressing me against him. I let my satisfaction at finding him harder than before cross the bond. As I leaned in again, I felt his growl reverberate in my chest just as strongly as I heard it.

I swept my hands across his wings in several directions, and no matter where I touched, Rhys couldn't keep still. Each caress made him shudder against me, the friction against my clit sweet and intoxicating, even through layers of fabric. His fingers dipped under my shirt, and I pulled my hands off his wings to shuck it off.

His face was between by breasts before my shirt hit the floor.

Rhys's tongue traced a line towards a nipple. I arched into him, and for a moment, I couldn't remember why his mouth had ever been anywhere but that very spot or how the endless well of need on both sides of the bond hadn't swallowed us both whole.

A plea floated into my head, through the bond so he didn't have to move his lips from my skin. If you never take your hands off me again, it will be too soon.

I skimmed my fingers down his wing, and territorial instinct had me wishing for paint or something to leave behind a mark on every bit of skin that I touched, to warn everyone else away from what was rightfully mine.

I hadn't meant for that thought to cross the bond, but it tore a keening, desperate noise from Rhys as his hips ground against mine again. I'm yours. Leave all the marks on me you wish.

"You're wearing too many clothes for that," I whispered.

Before I could scramble for buttons, I was on my back and on the floor, clothes gone and Rhys naked above me, cradling the back of my head in one broad hand. I thought we might have winnowed, but the world hadn't disappeared into smoke and shadow—no, he'd just pounced with that inhuman speed of his.

I could see the question in his face, the hesitation that this might have been too much and too fast for me, even with his eyes the darkest shade of violet I'd ever seen them. Despite how badly I could feel that he wanted to keep going, Rhys was giving me an opportunity to stop.

Not that I wanted to. Naked and under him was exactly where I wanted to be.

I pushed up onto an elbow and kissed him softly, cupping his face with my other hand. He leaned into the touch, then turned his head to kiss my palm. A shiver went through me at the memory of pomegranate seeds the last time his mouth had been there.

Rhys started to move down my body, and when I realized where exactly he was going, I locked my legs around his waist, keeping him in place. "Not now," I murmured. "Another time, but I want you inside me. Please."

His face darkened, and for a moment I thought I might have said something wrong—perhaps I'd pushed too hard or he merely did just want to bury his face between my thighs for now. He just said, "You don't beg. Not for anything, from anyone."

The words sounded like a vow. But before I could respond, his face broke into that cocky smile I'd come to love. With a teasing nudge at my entrance, he added, "But especially not for this—I'd never deny you."

True to his word, Rhys slid into me as I said, "I'm yours, too."

I let him set the pace as I kissed and nipped as his neck. Every mark I left drew another soft noise from him or a deeper thrust, and I wanted him covered in them.

He braced one hand against the tile floor to hold himself up, and the other seemed to be everywhere, squeezing my breasts, skimming down my stomach, circling my clit. The world narrowed to just the places our bodies touched and the golden thread connecting us. Before long, I was shattering around him as he spilled into me.

I'd hardly caught my breath when he winnowed us to his bed. And perhaps we should have ended up there sooner, instead of on the kitchen floor, but I was feeling too contented and comfortable to care. I lay back against the pillows as Rhys shifted, sprawling half on top of me with our legs tangling together. One wing draped over us both like a blanket, and he buried his face in the crook of my neck.

We were quiet for a long moment. His arm banded around my chest tightly, holding me to him as if he were afraid I'd disappear. With a stab of guilt, I wondered if he thought I might run off again. The bond was also quiet, but I suspected there might have been a reason he wasn't looking at me.

It was strange, I realized as I traced the swirl of a tattoo on his upper arm, to want to linger like this after sex. Everything before this had been in a barn or a cave—not somewhere I could just be held afterward. The lack of urgency driving me back to the woods to hunt or Rhys back Under the Mountain…I still couldn't bring myself to trust that it was real.

I double-checked that my shields were up; I didn't want that thought to interrupt any peace that Rhys had found.

"After the first decade Under the Mountain, I thought I'd never want another person to touch me again," he said eventually, so softly that I almost didn't hear it. The words were muffled against my skin, his breath warm. "I'd thought she'd stolen the ability to want like that, along with everything else. Calanmai was different, something that could only happen once. But then, after you told me you were trapping a Suriel, you said next time like it was inevitable, and I…started to believe it could happen. I wanted it to happen. I didn't know you well enough to love you yet. That's when I knew the mating bond had changed everything."

If I hadn't felt the way the bond in my chest had rearranged my the world for me, I wouldn't have understood. Love might not have been enough to fix what Amarantha had destroyed, but there was nothing more powerful than a mating bond. The cord didn't just tie us together—it held our shattered pieces in place to heal, like a cast around a broken bone. Nothing else could have done that.

"I love you," I said, because it still mattered. His hair was soft against my cheek as he turned his head to press a kiss to my collarbone. "And there's always going to be a next time, even if I have to tear the world apart to make it happen."

At that, Rhys finally looked at me; he smiled, eyes bright and without any sign of tears. "If it were anyone else, I would have thought those were just empty words," he said.

I shrugged. "I've been told I'm stubborn."

"'Perseverant' is a better word," he said, then leaned over to kiss me. "Or 'tenacious.'" He kissed me again. "Or 'undeterred.'" Another kiss. "And I love you for it."

"This sounds far too much like penmanship practice," I grumbled into his shoulder, though I suspected that ducking my head hadn't hid my smile.

"If you want more sentences about how handsome, delightful, and cunning I am, then I'm more than happy to oblige," he purred.

Cauldron boil and fry me—he knew the effect it had on me when he dropped his voice low like that. Heat pooled in my lower abdomen, and I didn't need the bond to sense the purely male smugness that oozed off of him.

With both of us naked atop his bed, perhaps it wasn't much of a surprise that we made sure next time happened a few minutes after that.

We would have stayed in bed all day if we'd been given the opportunity, but even a rest day wasn't completely free of obligations. Rhys had scheduled an appointment with a healer to discuss a regimen of exercises to regain strength in his wings and the utility of a sleeping draught, and that was too important to miss. I'd offered to go with, but there was no need.

For the first time in a while, I was alone. I didn't particularly want to be, and with the bond still on my mind from earlier, I realized I'd never asked Amren if her research on mating bonds had turned up anything promising. And if I was being honest with myself, I was also burning with curiosity about the lingering tension between Rhys and his Inner Circle. I dressed and headed for Amren's apartment.

The walk was short, but it was still enough to second-guess myself by the time I arrived. Amren and the others had their hands full, and she might not be home, let alone willing to entertain my questions. I took a breath and raised my hand to knock anyway.

Only for Amren to pull the door open before I made a sound.

"What brings you here, Feyre?" she said, slightly accusatory. By now, though, I knew that was as welcoming as she ever got.

"I came to speak to you," I said.

I didn't miss the way her nostrils flared and the grimace as she stepped aside to let me in. She must have scented what Rhys and I had been up to; I'd nearly forgotten that the fae could. I'd have to remember to bathe next time.

"Well?" she said, once I was inside.

"I wanted to thank you. For not trying to talk me out of going Under the Mountain."

It still took an effort not to squirm as she leveled her swirling silver eyes at me, even though I'd expected it. Coming here alone to say that, with the scent of Rhys and sex still lingering on me…she'd draw conclusions from it and probably share them with the Inner Circle. I'd thought about that and accepted it.

Jeweled bracelets on her wrists clinked together as Amren flicked a hand in a gesture that indicated it had been nothing. "Sending you was the only sound strategy we had," she said.

"What makes you say that?"

"There were no mated pairs with a fully accepted bond and one or both parties Under the Mountain. If there were, Amarantha would have been defeated well before you were even born."

I considered that. Mating bonds were rare, so perhaps it shouldn't have come as a surprise that Rhys and I were the only ones. And everyone trapped Under the Mountain had something or someone they loved—and after fifty years, that clearly hadn't been enough to save them.

It meant something. It didn't feel like a coincidence that Rhys and I were the only such pair, that I was human, that the Night Court's magic wanted something with me, that a hunter made of stars pointed to Velaris and I'd brought the High Lord of the Night Court back home.

I didn't understand everything, but I was supposed to be here in the Night Court.

Amren must have been able to tell I had more questions. She jerked her head towards the sitting area, then took a seat across from me. "Did you find anything on mating bonds between humans and faeries while I was gone?" I said. With Amren, it seemed best to get straight to the point.

"There might not be much to find. The most plausible theory is that the lifespans of a human and a faerie are too different for a mating bond to exist between them. Your being Made immortal supports that assertion," Amren said.

With everything that had happened lately, I'd nearly forgotten I was immortal. The lingering echo of magic still hadn't dimmed, but at some point, I'd grown used to it, like a background hum I could tune out. I'd have to face it eventually. One day, I wouldn't be able to ignore the fact that I'd stopped aging.

Before I could respond the sound of Mor's voice cut across the room. I nearly jumped out of my chair—I hadn't heard her winnow in. "If you were going to skip our meeting, the least you could have done was send a note," she was saying.

Her eyes landed on me as she stepped around a bookcase, and her scowl turned to a smile. "Or you could have said that Feyre was here," she added brightly.

Mor dropped into the seat between us and hugged me hello. It was still foreign to me, to be greeted this way, for someone to be pleased to see me and not just the game I was carrying out of the woods. I suspected I'd been hugged more often in my few weeks in the Night Court than all the rest of my life combined.

And it was definitely still strange to feel Mor's sharp inhale as she got closer to me and know what it meant.

"I was going to come speak to you later, but now works, too," Mor said. Her hair was pinned up into a bun, and her gown was a more subdued shade of red than what she typically favored—she must have been spending the morning attending to her duties as Rhys's Third. She'd been back to the Hewn City often lately.

"What about?" I said.

"How do you feel about a trip to the Day Court, emissary?"

"Now?"

Mor laughed and shook her head. "Gods, no. None of the courts are going to be up to hosting official visitors for a while yet, but if we're going to be first on the docket when the time comes, we need to start the conversation now."

Even with the glamour back in place, I hid my left hand instinctively at the memory of Helion approaching me Under the Mountain. "They're still our allies?" I said, though they must be if sending me there was under discussion at all.

"We have a shared border and need access to their libraries," Amren said.

"For what?" I asked. The library under the House of Wind was massive—it was difficult to imagine any information couldn't be found there.

"There are spells that don't require magic from the wielder," Amren said, watching me again as if she could see right through me. Not sizing me up, just interested in picking me apart and examining my component parts one by one. I tried not to shiver. "But that knowledge was destroyed during the War, by High Fae who were afraid it could fall into the hands of humans interested in using it against them. Day has the most extensive libraries in Prythian. If any scraps remain, they will be there."

I didn't need to ask why—I'd be safer with any magic at all at my disposal. And it would be best if we could manage it before my immortality became impossible to hide.

"It's a long shot," Mor said, "and it would have been, even before Amarantha burned most of Day's libraries. It's still worth a try."

When I'd learned a bit about the courts of Prythian before going Under the Mountain, there had been an offhand mention of a thousand libraries in Day. I sat in silence for a moment, just struggling to comprehend the scale of devastation.

It made the so-called blight on the Spring Court seem like nothing.

"Helion would share that information with us?" I said.

"The Day Court stands for widespread access to information, and their librarians keep information about who borrowed what confidential," Amren said. That seemed flimsy to me, and I started to ask about the possibility of spies when she grinned, showing her teeth. It didn't look friendly. "And I know how to make sure they stay quiet if it comes to that."

"With the shared border, there are plenty of reasons to send a Night delegation to Day that won't arouse any suspicion about what you are, Feyre. And sending just you, Amren, and me will help us get in front of any rumors that we're mistreating the Cursebreaker," Mor said.

It made perfect sense, but I still caught a slight hesitation. Perhaps because she thought I might not be ready or she anticipated an instinctive angry reaction to a plan that would separate me from my mate for a while. In truth, it was the potential of embarrassing myself as a poor reader that made me more nervous than anything. The Day Court could gawk at me if it kept the rest of Prythian off our backs.

If Feyre Cursebreaker was another role I'd have to play, then I'd do it.

"I'll go," I said. Mor and Amren shared a look as if they were communicating mind-to-mind—not daemati, just two people who knew each other well and had worked together for centuries. I shifted in my seat, uncomfortably aware they'd likely been discussing how to handle me again. After a moment, I added, "Have the rumors gotten worse?"

"Yes, but nothing we can't handle," Mor said, and I was struck again by the plain honesty, even though she knew it wasn't the answer I'd hoped for. "If you get out into Velaris more, that will help. You're well known, so word will spread if people see you, even if they can't say exactly where in the Night Court. I've been meaning to take you to dinner anyway. We could even find some blood for Amren and call it a girls' night."

Amren scowled. Mor tossed her head back and laughed.

I did want to see more of the city, though. So many other things had taken priority, but Velaris was the closest thing I had to a home anymore. Most of what I knew was the information Rhys had deposited in my head, and I wanted to find out more for myself.

"Just tell me when, and I'll be there," I said, and Mor beamed.

There wasn't much else to discuss, and Amren's irritation at two guests in her apartment was becoming palpable. Mor offered to winnow me back to the townhouse, but I was feeling restless from having spent so little time on my feet that day.

"And Feyre?" Mor said as we both stood to go. "I know my cousin knows how to treat a lady. If he doesn't get it together and take you on a proper date already, I'll kick his ass."

Amren made a disgusted noise behind me as Mor winked and then winnowed away. I took that as my cue to leave, saying a quick goodbye before hurrying down the stairs.

I felt lighter on the walk back to the townhouse. At first, I wasn't sure why, perhaps it was nothing more than just sunlight on my face and sea-scented air. But it ran deeper than that.

At some point, it clicked—I had plans to look forward to, for the first time in ages. Even in Spring, when I'd thought I'd found a bit of peace and a chance to rest and paint as much as I wished, I hadn't had that.

Happiness, the real, lasting kind, had never felt more tangible.

[whywoulditho]

the zionist lie: "muslims hate jews"

let's talk about it.

it's always baffling to talk to zionists because they are so confident when they tell you that muslims hate jews, that they've always hated jews, they teach their kids the same kind of hate they have and they want all the jews in the world dead. and when i, a muslim who was also born in a conservative muslim household and have gone to religious schools all throughout my teenage years, tell them that that's not true, they look at me like i'm insane.

the first time i heard about israel was in third grade, we were doing presentations on various world news and when i asked my mom about what the news about gaza were all about she explained to me that the israeli government was bombing them. i remember being so surprised because i had thought that bombs and wars were something of the past, that it was history. i felt sick, i was probably too young to learn about it. but i remember distinctly that the narrative was "israel is bombing palestine", not "jews are bombing muslims" i didn't even know that israelis were mostly jews and palestinians were mostly muslims. because either the news nor my mom painted "jews" as the villain. it was israel, a country, a state.

fast forward to middle school, sixth grade, last week of school before summer break. the teachers mostly leave us be because there's not much to learn anymore especially since our exams are already over. we asked this one math teacher to let us watch a movie and he said he had one in his usb driver, he put it on the board and we watched the boy with the striped pyjamas. that was the first time i ever learned about the holocaust, (for a little context, in turkey we learn WWI in much more detail than WWII since we only fought in the first one. especially in middle school level history, we don't get into the second one yet. that's why i hadn't heard of it before) and me and my friends bawled our eyes out to that movie. it was heartbreaking. we didn't understand how anyone could do such a thing.

i went back home and told my mom all about the movie and asked if she knew that jews had gone through such a thing. she explained the nazis and their concentration camps to me. i was shocked, i asked her how could that have ever happened. she pressed her lips together and told me it wasn't the only time it happened, and there are similar things happening in the world even today. we talked about africa, and the uyghurs and finally, palestine. i've never felt more speechless than at that moment when she told me the same people that went through the holocaust were responsible for the mass murder of palestinians. she quickly explained to me that not all jews are israelis, and certainly not all of them are zionists. that zionism is an ideology that makes people believe they have the right to kill others if it means they get the land they want.

we only ever talked about this genocide in context of the nature of human, greed, colonialism. it was never about religion. it was never "jews are the worst", it was never "jews are killers". it was always about a colonialist state, a colonialist system, the west supporting israel for their own gain from war and chaos. once again, no one painted "jews" as the bad guys.

as i said, i went to religious state schools, but the point of the school course we were taking wasn't to make everyone muslim, rather it was to teach us what Islam was. we all knew that we were free to choose whether to believe it or not after we learned it. i know some of my formerly muslim friends left Islam after high school. but while we were in school, we did all these extracurriculars where we researched about world issues and started campaigns to help those in need. some of you may not know this but the BDS movement existed back then as well, so senior students in my school would print lists of brands to boycott and hang them on the bulletin boards. the title would say "israeli products", not "jewish products". we understood that a whole market could not logically belong to the believers of a religion, it belonged to a certain state and we didn't want to endorse it because we knew it was killing innocent people. i started boycotting in seventh grade.

in high school, i had a world's religions and history class. we had to learn the basics of every common religion in the world. their beliefs system, their rules, their culture. it was all done from an objective point of view too. it wasn't like "these are the beliefs of the kafeer who will go to hell!!". our teachers would tell us if we want to be educated muslims we had to learn the basics of other religions so that we could compare and contrast, and be able to connect and debate with the believers of other religions. we had to learn so many things about judaism i don't even remember some of it. our finals test was on christianity, judaism and hinduism. they literally wouldn't let us graduate until we learned the basics of those religions.

i've seen my mom reading books like anne frank's diary, my dad would talk about his visits to churches and synagogues, he would encourage me to go visit different religions' worship places too. he would say it's important to understand them. to not be alienated from their world views just because we're muslims. growing up we always had holy scriptures of them at home too. a couple of different variations of the bible and torah. both in original script and translations. we had so many books about different religions, and my parents always encouraged me to read them. i haven't always been a muslim, there was a time when i had a lot of questions and skepticism about Islam as well. even then my parents would research with me, we would compare the holy books of different religions and see what they said about the same topics. in the end i decided to be a muslim, but not because i was conditioned, oppressed or forced into it. i was always taught to be respectful to other religions, and those who didn't believe in anything at all. i don't remember anyone telling me all jews needed to die or that they were all going to hell.

i explained all of this because i want any zionists who might be reading this to ask themselves, how many muslims have they known? have they ever read the Qur'an? have they ever studied Islam? have they ever been to a mosque? had their parents have books about Islam in their house? or our holy book? have they ever watched movies about us? have they ever learned out culture?

i want them to ask these to themselves not because i think they are obligated to do any of these, but because i need them to understand they don't know anything about the people they think hate them. they're so confident in their ignorance, they hear all these rumors about how intolerant and hateful muslims are but they never ask a real muslim, "hey, do you hate us? do you hate us because we're jewish?"

because as a muslim, i can answer from the bottom of my heart i don't hate jewish people. my stance against the state of israel does not equal hate for jews. i wish i could make you see this. because i do believe that there are some zionists who completely fall victim to this propaganda. so i hope someday you can see that the world doesn't hate you for your religion, or where you come from. they hate you for killing innocent people. it's really as simple as that.

[highlander-732b]

Battle Report + Status Update: Succession Wars junk vehicles are very fun

For a little context, I've been waiting impatiently for the BattleTech Mercenaries Kickstarter stuff to actually ship to general customers, as it's been taking Catalyst a while to actually get all of the stuff in order.

Unfortunately for me, I ordered some stuff through our local TTRPG supplier, and I hadn't actually supported the Mercenaries Kickstarter because I wasn't fully committed to actually buying BattleTech stuff until I had gotten a starter box as a birthday gift about a year ago.

Fast forward to now, and my friend had gotten his BattleTech Mercenaries Kickstarter stuff fulfilled recently. We discovered that there were campaign rules included in the small primer booklet, and I decided to fully hammer out the beginnings of a 3151+ campaign then and there. Notably, pilots can't be better than 3/5 (Gunnery/Piloting) to begin with, but we decided to force people to make 3/5 pilots to increase game speed.

We decided on 4000 BV per player to allow for more fun Dark Age mech and vehicle choices. My friend decided to kinda go crazy with his picks, and selected an Ontos Heavy Tank and a Dervish DV-11DK.

For those who are educated in the art of tank warfare in the age of the battlemech, you would know that the Ontos kinda sucks historically. It's a tank with eight medium lasers as a primary armanent, but no fusion engine. That means three heatsinks have to be mounted alongside every medium laser to sink the heat, making the Ontos horribly inefficient as a 95 ton tank. (A Demolisher can do similar close range damage, but can equip Gyrojet Ammo for a -2 to hit using the AC/20s)

HOWEVER, some madman decided to upgrade the thing in Dark Age by adding eight large chemical lasers as a replacement to the medium lasers & heatsinks. Chemical lasers do not generate heat on vehicles, because they use ammunition. You have EIGHT large lasers.

The following fight was very brief.

To set the stage, a pirate raiding party had struck the area my friend was defending, and had landed with:

Hunchback HBK-4N Wolverine WVR-6K Vedette Tank x2 Default Condor Hovercraft Default

With all of these units at 4/5 (Gunnery/Piloting), they roughly were equivalent to the Dervish & Ontos combo BV-wise.

This was not the case in combat, and it turns out defending with a tank that will likely hit more than half its shots against opponents that must close to close combat distances (>10 hexes) kinda just wins. That Ontos was killing a Vedette when it could see a Vedette, and when it ran out of Vedettes, the Ontos killed the Wolverine with little assistance.

The Wolverine barely lasted two turns of direct combat, and gracefully exploded after having every single pip of armor on nearly every armor section completely gone, before it was crit in the SRM-6 ammo bin located in the right torso. No CASE meant instant death.

The Hunchback actually did a minimum of damage before quickly retreating, while both Vedettes exploded instantly from merely attempting to scratch the paint of the Ontos.

The standout was the Condor, being lucky enough to avoid getting hit at all while successfully closing to optimum weapons range, but it was quickly squashed by the Dervish after a lucky boxcars roll on motive system damage after getting a little too close.

In summary, the pirates were reduced to burning slag in a matter of seconds, and playing as them was hilariously fun. Bad units are great as story enemies, because you can aggressively run them into danger without really caring. My friend got a hella large payout according to the campaign rules, so that was a pretty nice way to begin a tale of a new mercenary company.

[thewitcheswitch89]

The Witches Image

Papa Emeritus IV - Part 2

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Min Heyoka (@TheWitcheswitch89) - Wattpad

"Hi, I'm Madison!" She held out her hand to me with a grin and pushed a strand of her straw-blonde hair behind her ear with her other hand. Her bright blue eyes scrutinized me curiously.  "You're really pretty!".

"Ehmm... thanks?" I grinned back and shook her hand. "I'm Lia! And it looks like I'm your new roommate!". Madison laughed.

"Yes, I've been living here on my own for a while. So please don't be surprised... I've made myself quite at home here in that time. If I'd known earlier that I was getting a new roommate, I would have cleaned up!" She put her hands in her pockets and nodded at me.

"Yes... I was taken by surprise too! It was more of a spontaneous transfer!" I let my gaze wander around the room. In the middle was a small couch with lots of colorful cushions. In front of it was a small table and a simple flat-screen TV hung on the wall. There was a console underneath.

"Wow... you have time to play games here?" I asked.

"Yes!" Madison laughed. "We sometimes have a lot of free time. Especially when we have another tour coming up...we often get to work on our own!".

I'd almost forgotten about the Ghost Project. From what I had heard, they had only recently returned from their last tour. I loved their music, but hadn't had the chance to really follow them recently. My day had been too full for that and I was too tired in the evening.

The kitchen was small, but had everything you needed to prepare a small snack. A small fridge, microwave, tea cupboard, kettle and, most importantly, a coffee machine. A small stove with a mini worktop was squeezed under the window next to the sink.

"It's not much!" sighed Madison next to me. "But we usually go to the canteen for lunch. The food is ok...We're also lucky here with the showers. We have one of the few rooms that has its own bathroom. The lower rooms have to share one! This is my room...and this is yours...it's even a bit bigger!". Madison winked at me and opened the door on the opposite side of the room.

"The sister who lived here before really liked the color black...I hope you like it. It's not so easy to get paint here."

I was amazed when I saw the dark walls. The dark wooden floor creaked with every step. A large metal bed stood in the middle of the room, on an old Persian rug, comforter, pillow and cover neatly folded on a gray wing chair in the corner of the large window. Next to it was a desk and a dark two-door closet.

"Amazing!" I marveled and dropped my bag next to my suitcases. "This room is as big as the room I shared with one of my sisters in the old convent!"

"Well... that's luxury for you then!" Madison leaned against the doorframe and watched me with a grin. "You'll have more privacy here."

"Privacy?" I laughed. "What's that? Sounds like music to my ears!".

"Speaking of music...I still have the old stereo from your previous tenant...would you like to have it?" she asked and disappeared into the living room without waiting for an answer, shortly afterwards she came around the corner with a box. "There are CDs here too! From Ghost, of course!".

I took the box from her and was amazed when I examined the system.

"Why would you leave something like that behind?" I asked myself.

"She moved out overnight! I don't know what really happened! But she must have been kicked out!" Madison sighed and knelt down next to you to look at the CDs. "Above all, I would have taken these with me...they're all signed!". I took the CDs from her hand in disbelief, wondering at the same time what you had to do to get kicked out of a convention. The realization hit me in the face shortly afterwards. Wasn't it almost the same for me?

"I'll let you unpack first," she said and stood up with a sigh. "When you're done, I can show you around later...I have to go to the library now...catch up on stuff. I'll be back around 6pm. Then we'll go to dinner...see you then!". She waved to me and reached for her bag on the sofa. Before she went out the door, she turned around again: "Nice to see you here Lia!". I nodded to her with a grin. The door closed behind her and I was alone.

The first thing I did was connect the system and insert one of the CDs. "Prequelle." The music filled the still empty room and I closed my eyes for a moment. How long had it been since I had had time to listen to the music I wanted to hear. Without having to pay attention to anyone. Copia's voice was beautiful and dark. It was only one song later that I was able to tear myself away from the trance state the music had put me in and start unpacking my suitcase. I put my clothes neatly in the wardrobe. I stowed my books and the stereo in one of the three dark shelves, which I dusted off first. The only decorative items I had were a wooden crucifix, which I placed above my bed. A wall cloth with a tarot card motif of the moon, candles and a string of lights that I draped over the headboard of the bed. I decided to visit the city in the next few days. Perhaps Madison would accompany me.

After making my bed, I took my laptop out of my bag and sat down at my desk. A quick glance at my alarm clock told me that I still had half an hour before Madison would come back. Enough time to surf the internet a bit.

The encounter with Copia had stayed with me the whole time. My thoughts were constantly revolving around him, if only because I was listening to the album for the second time now and just couldn't get enough. His voice was like a drug, I couldn't get enough of his singing and the words he was saying. 

First I typed Ghost into the search engine and was rewarded with lots of pictures. He in his various stage outfits, which looked more than just good on him. I scrolled and scrolled and lost myself deeper and deeper in this rabbit hole. Before I knew it, I found myself saving one of the photos to my laptop.  A picture, black and white, obviously taken during one of his performances. His stage make-up matched his outfit perfectly. His gaze was directed at the audience and his white eyes stood out under the dark make-up. He looked very different in this picture. Different from the man I had met in Sister Imperator's office. So confident and attentive. His broad shoulders under his military jacket looked muscular and strong. His hands in the black leather gloves. The tight pants that...

Stop... I closed the laptop and stared out of the window. What was I doing here? Just a few hours ago, I would have loved to get back on the plane and fly home. And now I was sitting here... all my thoughts focused on just one person. Sighing, I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling. Faith was playing in the background. And I had to laugh at the irony of the lyrics. He was in my thoughts. He had crept in and taken up residence. From one second to the next. Just one look was enough. Ignoring the uneasy feeling in my stomach, I decided to freshen up for dinner.

"The food today was really exceptional...good!" laughed Madison. We had just eaten dinner. It hadn't been bad, but I was still glad that I hadn't had too much of an appetite.

"We could make Ramen later!", she suggested as we left the canteen behind the others.

"I'd love to!" I replied. And wanted to go the way we had come earlier, but Madison stopped me.

"Wait, we still have to do our Tour!" she grinned.

"But it's to late..." I said, frowning when Madison looked at me like I was crazy.

"Lia...you're here now...things are a bit more relaxed here!" she assured me with a raised eyebrow. I just nodded uncertainly and followed her. "Besides, it's much nicer at noon!".

Madison hadn't promised too much. The first thing she showed me was the chapel. Large candlesticks lined the aisle leading up to the altar. A figure of Lucifer raised one hand to swear and held a bare-breasted woman clasped around the waist with his other arm. Her face contorted in desire. His horns, large and pointed, reached up to the three large arches of stained glass windows behind him. I was sure that the woman in his arms represented Lillith. The first witch, the first wife of Adam, the mother of all demons and the wife of Lucifer. The candles bathed the scene in a beautiful light. The unholy writing was emblazoned on the altar. Surrounded by dark red roses and black candles.

"Didn't I tell you that it's much nicer !" Madison whispered, but her voice still echoed off the walls. The last rays of sunlight refracted in the window and made Lucifer's features seem almost real.

It was hard to tear myself away from this sight, but Madison wanted to continue her tour.

She showed me the Classrooms and Needlework rooms, as well as the Workshop, which smelled of resin. On the way to the library, we stopped at a large iron door, which was only lit by a single dim lamp in the dark.

"Where does it lead to?" I asked, taking a step towards the door.

"Wait!" said Madison. "Don't go in there...the door leads to the Ghoul's common areas...they don't like it so much when you enter their area...territory and all...". Without elaborating, Madison continued on her way in the opposite direction. With one last glance, I followed her towards the library. And if the chapel hadn't taken my breath away, this had. Huge shelves lined the walls and formed rows all the way to the back. Shelves filled from top to bottom with books and scrolls. Large arched windows lined both sides of the room. Tables with chairs or armchairs stood in small alcoves, just beckoning you to snuggle up and read.

"Impressive, isn't it? Come on, I'll show you my favorite place!" She grabbed my hand and pulled me behind her. One of the most beautiful chandeliers I'd seen in a long time hung magnificently from the ceiling with flickering candles.

"This is where I always sit and study...". You stumbled against Madison's shoulder as she stopped abruptly. I looked at her, startled, wondering what had startled her so much. Until I followed her gaze and looked into the eyes that I hadn't been able to get out of my head all day.

Copia was sitting in one of the armchairs in front of the crackling fireplace, holding a book in his hand and staring at us as perplexed as we were at him. The light from the fire cast a warm shadow on his face and made his white eye glow almost orange. His gaze traveled to Madison and then to me.

"Ohh...ehh...good evening!" he closed the book and a smile played around the corners of his mouth. His eyes lingered on mine for a moment too long and I avoided his gaze.

"Papa!" Madison had found her voice again. And gave Copia a look, which he returned. "We're sorry! We didn't mean to disturb you...I...I'm just showing Sister Lia around."

"Ah...buono!" he laughed and nodded at me. "Stick to Sister Madison...she's one of my best students!". Unable to speak, I just nodded at him, which only made him grin even wider.

"Let's get going then! Good night, Papa!" Madison curtseyed briefly and pulled me after her. We ran out of the library, taking one last look at Copia.

Back in your little apartment, I wished Madison a good night and got ready for bed. I slipped under the lavender-scented comforter and stared at the ceiling. I could feel the tiredness slowly pulling me into a deep sleep. When I closed my eyes, I saw Copia's face. His eyes, each a different color, but the white one stood out. Glowing white under the black make-up. This day had done me in. Mentally and physically.

I was glad it was over and wondered what else was in store for me.

"Lia!". A hand gently stroked my arm. Sighing, I turned onto my side and pulled the blanket up to my chin.

"No!" I mumbled.

"Lia!" laughed Madison. "Come on, you have to get up. It's almost noon. You've been asleep so long. Sister Emperor has sent a ghoul. She wants to see you in her office in half an hour!".

I shook my head and turned on my back to look at her out of tired eyes.

"Get up sleepyhead!" she laughed, "You go shower and I'll make you some coffee!". As she walked away, she grabbed my blanket and pulled it to my feet.

"Hey!" I called after her. Which she only replied with a laugh.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and slowly got out of bed. For having slept so long, I felt like I had pulled an all-nighter.

The shower woke my tired bones and the coffee did the rest. 30minutes later I was standing in front of Sister Imperator's office and hesitated for a moment. I needed a bit more time to prepare myself mentally. Just as I sighed and raised my fist to knock, I was distracted by a throat clearing behind me. I winced and turned around.

"Ohh...Mi dispiace, sorella!". Copia was standing behind me, his eyes wide and his hand on his chest, "I didn't mean to scare you!".

For a moment, I lost control of my speech. He was standing so close to me, I could smell his aftershave and I swallowed hard.

He furrowed his eyebrows worriedly and took a step towards me to put his hand on my upper arm.

"Are you all right?" he asked. I shook my head almost imperceptibly, almost as if I was trying to get my brain to work.

"Ehh...yes. Yes!" I stuttered. "I was just so lost in thought! I'm sorry!".

"No need to apologize!" He shook his head and stroked my upper arm. A warm shiver ran down my spine. I looked at his hand and then back at him. The warmth crept into my cheeks as our eyes met. My brain paused for a moment.

"That feels good!" my lips moved as if of their own accord. His eyebrows lifted. And his gaze seemed to glaze over, the pupil of his green eye widened.

 For a brief moment, there seemed to be this tension between us. His fingers gripped my upper arm tighter. His eyes wandered to my lips, lingered there. His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something. His fingers slid naturally from my upper arm to my shoulder and rested on the back of my neck. His thumb stroked my chin. Where he touched me, he left a burning sensation on my skin. I shivered under his gaze, which flitted back to my eyes. Deep inside me, I felt the desire to overcome the few centimetres that separated us. Without realizing it, my back pressed against the door leading to Sister Imperator's office. Copia took a step towards me and I felt my heart pounding against my chest. Unable to move, I just stood there, wishing for his lips on mine....

With a jolt, I was snapped back to reality.

The door I had been leaning against opened with a jerk, and the next moment I saw myself lying on the floor in front of Sister Imperator.

"What the...", startled, she looked first at me and then at Copia, who was staring at me with wide eyes. I sat up and rubbed the back of my head.

"What's going on here?". Her eyes wandered questioningly back and forth between me and Copia. Copia was the first to regain his voice.

"Oh... I'm sorry, Sorella!" He bent down to me and held out his hand to help me up. Which I gratefully accepted. "I'm afraid I startled Sister Lia when she was about to knock...Mi dispiace davvero per la mia goffaggine...!".

"It's all right! I'm fine!" I replied. Sister Imperator let out an annoyed sigh.

"Come on, my dear. Sit down!" She gently placed her hand on my back and gently pushed me into her office. "And you... I'm sure you're busy! I'll talk to you later!". I gave Copia a look over my shoulder, which he returned with a nod. Before he turned to Sister Imperator and said: "Of course. Sister! I'll talk to you later!". He put on a smile and disappeared down the corridor with one last fleeting glance at me.

Translation

Mi dispiace davvero per la mia goffaggine - I'm really sorry how clumsy of me