#I knew I’d have to face the Atlas again

[kamaluhkhan]

IS IT CASUAL NOW?

pairing: vi x fem!reader word count: 14.6k summary: you and vi are both tired of complicated relationships so try the whole friends-with-benefits thing....and maybe forget the whole point of your arrangement in the first place. warning: lesbian situationships (there is so much angst and yearning), brief mention of (internalized) homophobia and struggles with addiction....but mostly cheesy domestic fluff and smut [oral (vi receiving), fingering (both receiving), thigh riding, slight bondage play, switch!vi has my heart] (18+) ! a/n: merry (belated oops) xmas girls and gays <33 i've probably spent way too much time on this but it's my BABY....kinda based on leighton and alicia's plotline in s1 of sex lives of college girls and ofc casual by chappell roan (there are many other chappell references throughout too hehe). also yes i made a mini playlist that consists of the songs that i think reflect this fic's sun, moon, and rising signs....pls enjoy and happy holidays !!!

♪: "angel baby" by troye sivan (sun); "pretty girl" by hayley kiyoko (moon); "casual" by chappell roan (rising)

“not even one week into the new academic year, violet rose atlas, captain of the varsity soccer team, has been suspended from gameplay due to recent unsportsman-like behavior, sentenced to 100 hours of community service, and banned from the local lesbian bar.” 

mel removes her eyes from the screen to raise an eyebrow at you. you just shrug and take a sip of your coffee. you glance over at the clock on the wall. 

11:09am. 

“to top it all off, she’s late,” you declare, trying your best to hide the anticipation simmering in your stomach.

“what’s your deal, anyways? you totally flirt with her whenever she’s at the bar. not even we get that good of service,” gert points out. they’re searching through a stack of cd’s and cassette tapes for something to play. 

“that was before.” 

you walk over to sit next to gert, taking it upon yourself to choose the music. you settle on jagged little pill; alanis morrissette’s lush voice is a welcomed addition to your conversation.

“our funding is at risk,” you explain. “it’s like the dean assigned her to us because she knew it would end terribly and the board would have an excuse to finally cut us loose.” 

“if they need an excuse, they’ll find one,” gert grumbles.

you shrug. “i just think violet is bad news, which is something i’d prefer we avoid..”

“the article does say that she punched maddie nolan in the face during an exhibition game against the piltover knights.”

“see? bad news. literally.”

“well, i think we lucked out,” sky gushes, though her focus remains on finishing her current project. she’s crocheting so fast that you only catch glimpses of her sparkly pink fingernails. you’re sure she’ll be done with this blanket before violet shows up. if she even bothers to show up. “the yellowjackets might’ve lost their captain, but we get to spend quality time with the hottest butch on campus.”

“whatever,” you sigh, though you don’t disagree with that description. you check the clock again — 11:11am — and settle against the worn couch. “since we have the time — mel, why don’t you read our horoscopes? i’m itching to see what the universe has in store for us today.” 

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi spent the better part of last night crying and getting wasted in her bathtub with cheap dye burning into her scalp. 

she just couldn’t stand the memory of caitlyn kiramman’s perfectly manicured nails running through her formerly pink locks as they kissed, tugging on vi’s hair to bring her closer —

enough. fucking pull yourself together. 

cait’s moved on, that much is clear, with someone more like her. someone whose last name is on buildings all around the university of piltover’s campus.

so far, no amount of bar fights or red cards or late nights in some random girl’s bed seem to mend the heart that caitlyn shattered to pieces, but vi doesn’t give up easy.

soon enough, she’ll be back on the field, leading the yellowjackets to victory at nationals; she’ll finish all her classes, graduate with honors and have a great plan for an even greater future; all while having amazing, mind-blowing sex that won’t lead to serious heartbreak.

relationships are overrated, anyways. 

the first step in this plan: spending 100 hours with a bunch of angry, bra-burning lesbians.

maybe vi will fit right in.

so, vi walks into her community service assignment with a wicked migraine and hands that look like lady macbeth plotted to murder an oil spill, but with her usual confident swagger nonetheless, as conversation echoes down the hallway.

“according to your rising, there will be a much needed spark in your romantic life. my guess is a fire sign is gonna sweep you off your feet.”

another voice chimes in, a gentle rumble. “could that be your sweet jules?” 

“i’ve never asked about her chart,” an achingly familiar voice replies. it brings back memories of dizzying lights and strong whiskey coursing through her blood, but something else, too. a sky full of stars and too-sweet alcohol on her tongue. “paula was a fire sign, though, and that blew up in my face.”

“paula was a walking red flag.”

“yeah, well, apparently red’s my favorite color.”

“maybe that was just the heartbreak you needed to bring passion back into your life. do you feel that with jules?”

“i don’t know — maybe? we haven’t had sex yet.” 

“passion isn’t just about sex, you know —”

“gert, i love you, but i cannot handle a sex therapy session right now.”

someone else giggles, bright and bubbly. “hm, i wonder what sign our pink-haired hottie is.” 

vi clears her throat to announce her arrival, leaning against the doorway.

everyone turns to look at her then, with varying degrees of shock, and vi feels like she’s just walked into an after midnight roommate vent session.

she isn’t sure what she expected the space to look like, but zaun university’s women’s centre is well-lived in, defined by a sort of organized chaos. each wall is covered in posters and collages, multicolored flags and fairy lights; there’s a shelf in the corner with assorted trinkets and books piled high, a table next to it with baskets of condoms, pads, and tampons and informational pamphlets, and a door in the opposite corner, slightly ajar. a vintage boombox placed on the coffee table plays 90s alt rock, circled by mismatched seating with patterned blankets and brightly colored pillows strewn about.

someone with dark lipstick and an eyebrow piercing is drawing on their converse; a dark brunette wearing glasses is draping a blanket over the arm of a couch; another person is scrolling on their laptop, a gold necklace glittering on their collarbones. 

vi’s attention is stuck on you, though, the origin of the aforementioned familiar voice: the very hot bartender from sappho’s, where vi happened to be kicked out of not even 72 hours prior. 

you’re wearing a vintage wonder woman t-shirt tucked into faded blue jeans with a carabiner clipped to a belt loop. the sleeves of your shirt are rolled up, displaying your array of tattoos — vi’s already decided that her favorites are joan of arc holding her sword, a pomegranate that’s been cracked open, and lyrics from bikini kill’s ‘rebel girl’ (which admittedly, vi had to look up when she first saw). it’s everything vi’s booze-soaked brain had apparently memorized after many nights of staring at you across the bar counter, licking up whatever honeyed flirtations you’d spill from your lips. vi always noticed your hands, too: the many rings you’ve stacked on your fingers, the lavender sprig sprouting from your middle finger and venus symbol etched onto your wrist, the nails that are always clipped short and painted black. 

one of those nails is tapping anxiously on your coffee mug, which has a picture of hayley kiyoko as lesbian jesus.

“pink-haired hottie, reporting for duty. though, i might need a new nickname.” vi grins; you roll your eyes. “i’m an aries, by the way.”

“good to know.” the brunette winks not-so-subtly in your direction before walking towards vi and extending a hand, gold bangles clinking together at the motion. “i’m sky, she/her. we had electromagnetic theory together last spring. it’s lovely to officially meet you.”

vi makes a big show of leaning down and kissing sky’s hand.

“nice to meet you, too, sweetheart.”

“such a gentleman,” sky giggles and leads vi to the patchwork couch. she curls up like a cat, and vi follows suit — the couch is cloud soft, and vi tries not to sink into the cushions. “i’m our supplies and communications coordinator.” she turns away from vi to look around the room. “okay, that’s my intro. who’s next?”

the person with an eyebrow piercing nods at vi, a sort of effortless greeting. “gert, they/them.” they snap the sharpie shut after writing ‘the future is intersectional’ on the tip of their toe. “i curate and design our newsletter, the black rose. i’m also in a band —”

“the sirens of zaun. yeah, i recognize you. you’ve played a few gigs at sappho’s.” 

vi looks at you pointedly, and you take this as your cue to disappear behind the door, which appears to lead into some sort of office.

gert seems pleased, though. “then you might also recognize our lead singer….”

the person with the gold necklace, who vi does, in fact, vaguely recognize but can’t quite name, closes their laptop and waves at vi. “i’m mel. pronouns: she/her. i mostly deal with the finances around here. and, from what i understand, you’re already well acquainted with our fearless leader —”

mel is cut off by the sound of her phone alarm. 

“shit — it’s already 11:30. our set at campus radio starts soon.” mel gestures at gert. gert picks up the bright red guitar case behind them and secures it around their shoulder as mel packs up her leather satchel. 

“damn, i gotta get to class, too. the space-time continuum waits for no one.” sky gets up and gathers her things, too, stuffing yarn into a fruit-printed tote bag. “it was nice meeting you though.” she pats vi’s head affectionately before throwing out a loud: “see ya later, boss!”

mel and gert offer similar farewells, and you shout goodbye from the other room before the three of them are out the door. vi expects you to reappear a few moments later; when you don’t, she ventures into the office.

it’s smaller, but just as decorated as the lounge space. there’s a desk that seems to be more storage than actual use, littered with piles of books and old copies of the black rose. you’re sitting on a fluffy rainbow carpet that looks like every member of sesame street stitched together, writing something in a sticker-covered notebook. 

“so, violet —”

“vi’s fine,” she tells you. she decides to sit on the floor next to you rather than the zebra striped chaise lounge.

you nod, rip a page out of your notebook, and hand it to vi. there’s something a bit too intimate about knowing what your handwriting looks like before even knowing your name. 

“this is a run down of everything you’ll need to know, but real quick: we do feminist film fridays and trivia tuesdays on alternating weeks; our radical reads book club meets once a month, along with our slam poetry group, and we have a bunch of other events in between — workshops, art builds, discussion groups, and so on. sky keeps everything in the centre stocked, and occasionally the rest of us will pitch in when organizing a charity drive. our newsletter publishes the third wednesday of every month — gert puts it together, but we print in pairs since it could be a lot of work for one person. we have team meetings once a week to share updates, make sure we’re all on the same page, stuff like that. any questions?” 

“wow, okay. that’s a lot.”

you smile. “i’m sure you’ll be able to keep up, varsity.” 

“so….where do i fit in?” 

“that depends on you, really,” you tap your glitter gel pen on your notebook, thinking. “like, i’m assuming you’re not well versed in feminist literature.”

vi puffs out her chest. “based on what assumptions? i’m not a dumb jock.”

“yeah, i know you’ve made the dean list ever since your freshman year.” 

vi raises an eyebrow. “keeping tabs on me, wonder woman?” she teases. 

you laugh. “don’t flatter yourself. sky’s the one who mentioned it to me. so, unless you mean your very large, unpaid tab at sappho’s...”

“the bar i was kicked out of, you mean.”

“well, yeah, because you —” you take a deep breath. “not the point. anyways, we don’t have a complete schedule for book club, so you can maybe take the lead on one of our meetings. do you have a favorite author?” 

vi smiles at you sheepishly. “ah…..you got me there.”

“thought so,” you smirk and vi covers her blush. “if you’re curious, this bridge called my back is a good place to start. oh, and audre lorde is a classic and a personal favorite…..” you pause when you catch vi staring at you. she wants you to keep talking, to appreciate the way your eyes light up so enthusiastically, but you blink away, and a veil of professionalism falls back onto you. “sorry. anyways, we’re having trivia tomorrow — would you be able to help us out with that?

vi nods. “sure.”

“sweet.” you check your phone. “i’ve got a coffee date, so i should get going.”

“wait — you never told me your name, wonder woman.”

“well, it’s not diana prince,” you quip before finally introducing yourself. 

“nice to finally put a name to the face.” vi winks at you, standing up. she extends a hand to guide you up. your hand is cold against her skin, your metal rings even colder.

“i’ll see you around, varsity.” before you’re out the door, you turn back around. “oh, and vi?”

“yeah?”

“don’t be late.”

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

you had stepped away for a quick smoke break — a habit you knew you had to kick — but you’re so fucking drained and it’s only wednesday. 

you were up all night bickering with your girlfriend. it started with her admitting that she really doesn’t want to meet your friends, which transitioned into her asking you to not talk to anyone about her or your relationship, which prompted you to make a (maybe slightly insensitive) comment about how she’s welcome to stay in the closet but has no right to push you back in. 

needless to say, you did not get any sleep.

you’re about to walk outside, and finally get a moment of peace, when your phone rings. it’s your sibling, and the fact that they’re calling instead of texting tells you that this conversation is about to be (A) exhausting, (B) infuriating, or (C) both.

the correct answer is C.

it’s the same story over and over again: your dad drinks too much, your mom is absent. it hadn’t been this bad when you were growing up, but you suppose you’d been around to ease the damage, or at least step in and take care of your sibling as needed. 

“just — take a deep breath. you can come stay with me for the weekend, okay? it’ll be good for you to get away from the chaos for a bit….we’ll go apple picking if the weather’s nice, maybe start working on your halloween costume — whatever you wanna do.”

“you know, i’m not five anymore,” they mumble, stifling a small laugh along with some tears. “but…okay. that sounds nice.”

you smile to yourself, shoulder pressing against the door. “it’s a plan then. we’ll sort out the details later. and, don’t worry about mom and dad — i’ll take care of it. love you.” 

you hang up and exhale as you finally push the door open, happy to finally get one moment to breathe.

except, just as you’re greeted by a crisp breeze on this beautiful late september evening, you’re also greeted by the sight of vi pressing someone against the brick wall, their legs wrapped around her waist as she kisses their neck.

something ignites in your abdomen, familiar after many nights of seeing vi at the bar, charming her way into another woman’s bed. except, it’s definitely not jealousy, this time.

(okay, maybe it is; but only a bit.)

they spring apart upon hearing the door slam closed. you recognize who vi’s with — maya, a sophomore who’s frequently attended women’s centre events since last year. she’s always been friendly with the team, but never this friendly.

“oh my gosh, i am so sorry!”

“you don’t have to apologize,” you tell her sincerely. her cheeks are flushed, and she’s busy smoothing down her skirt, clearly trying to distance herself from vi, who’s leaning against the wall nonchalantly. “i just need to talk to violet, so do you mind giving us a sec?”

you wait until maya disappears inside to cross your arms and glare at vi.

“so, it’s violet now, huh?” she teases, wiping red lipstick off her smirk.

“you were supposed to be helping facilitate this workshop,” you note. 

“well, it is a queer sex ed workshop.” vi rolls her eyes. “i was giving maya a hands-on experience.”

you grit your teeth together. “and you just had to do that now? like you just had to go down on that third year during trivia last week?”

“well, see, i don’t have a ton of free time, and since i’m not allowed at the local lesbian bar….” she trails off, looking at you pointedly. “i’ve had to resort to multi-tasking.”

“multi-tasking.” you let an exhausted, bitter laugh slip from your lips. “you’ve showed up late to every single event in the past few weeks, and once you’re there, you’re either on your laptop, getting drunk, or hooking up with someone. tell me, violet, as captain of the yellowjackets — if someone on your team was acting like this, what would you do?”

vi narrows her eyes at you, like she can’t believe what you’re asking, and admits, “i’d call them out, tell them to do better.”

“right. and if they kept giving you empty promise after empty promise? you’d have to do something more drastic, even if you didn’t want to, yeah?”

no response.

shaking your head, you take out a cigarette. there’s only silence when you flick the lighter open and light it between your lips. you inhale deeply, letting the smoke enter your lungs, exhale slowly, and decide: “i’m gonna ask the dean to reassign you.”

“fine by me,” vi scoffs, but you swear that something close to disappointment flashes across her face. “clearly, this isn’t working out.”

“clearly.” you take another drag of your cigarette, and as vi walks back inside, you can’t help but try to get under her skin. you’ve had a bad week, between family drama and turbulence in your relationship with jules, and you’re just sick of people not giving a shit. “the year’s already started, so i doubt there’s something available. which means you’ll remain on academic probation until spring.”

and, okay — you do get some twisted satisfaction in how that makes vi stop in her tracks. you’re leaning against the wall, and she strides over to stand in front of you, her jaw and fists clenched.

“i’ll miss the whole tournament.”

you shrug, and blow smoke in her face. “i’ve given you plenty of chances.”

“but the team needs me —”

“you should have thought of that before you fucked up, varsity,” you snap. vi’s eyes widen; you’re usually more level-headed. “you’re cocky, irresponsible  — ”

“i lost my scholarship,” vi blurts out, prompting you to pause, the cigarette millimeters from your lips. 

you blink at her, blood still roaring in your ears.

“i…don’t know why that’s relevant.”

vi just sighs, so deeply that you feel it in your bones. you haven’t seen this side of her before — no flirtatious smile, no overconfident posture. instead, she slips to the ground, knees pressed to her chest. feeling a bit guilty for pushing her buttons, you slide down next to her. you offer her the cigarette, but she shakes her head.

“i…i’m going through a shitty breakup. i’ve been lashing out, and i lost my scholarship. i haven’t asked my parents for money, because the last thing i want is for them to worry about me. so, i started picking up these odd jobs to make ends meet, and the hours are a bit crazy so between school and practice and — fuck, there’s also shit going on with my sister that i won’t even get into now, but it’s a lot — and i also need to do this because i let my team down and i need to be there for them, whatever it takes, and i’m just so fucking —”

“exhausted, yeah.” 

you can see more clearly now — the slump in her shoulders, the shadows underneath her eyes; you see her more clearly. you realize that you might have more in common with violet rose atlas than you initially thought.

“so the laptop —”

“finishing assignments.”

“the drinking?”

vi juts her chin out at your smouldering cigarette. “we all have our vices.”

“and the sex?”

her lips curl into a sheepish grin, and she shrugs. “we all need to relieve stress.”

you clear your throat, blinking away from her gaze and trying to ignore how you can feel warmth radiating from her body, so close to yours. “right.”

vi runs her hand through her tar-black hair. that should have been your first hint — nothing says lesbian breakup more than terribly dyed hair and questionable decisions. 

“look, i know i can’t do everything, but i have to, and i’m still trying to figure out how.”

“well….as far as excuses go, it’s not the worst,” you admit. “thanks for telling me. i know that couldn’t have been easy.” you take a deep breath and get to your feet. “i stand by what i said earlier, though — this isn’t working out. you just can’t tell us that you’ll be helpful and not follow through. it means a lot, to a lot of people, that there’s a space like this on campus. mel, gert, sky— they all work so hard to make that happen, and that’s something i need to protect. i’m sorry.”

“wait.” vi grabs your wrist before you can leave. “i’m sorry. really, i am. i promise to do better.”

“you’ve made that promise before,” you point out. “why should i believe this time will be different?”

“because…you’re right. i’ve been too caught up in myself, in what i need, in what my team needs. i can see that you really care about your team, though, and i should have respected that. they’re — you’re — amazing, everything that you do to make people feel safe and heard and loved. i’m sorry for taking that for granted.”

wow. okay. 

you did not expect that. you’re hoping that vi can’t feel your pulse quicken at her words, but you’re glad that she’s holding on to you, keeping you steady.

“yeah, well…flattery’s not gonna get you far.” you clear your throat. “but, you’re obviously going through a lot right now, and it can drive you crazy, feeling like you’re the one who —”

“has to keep everything together,” vi finishes, sliding to the ground once more. you follow. “seems like i’m cracking under pressure, this time. fucking everything up.”

“you’ve got a reckless streak.”

“must be the aries in me,” she laughs, softly. “apparently it’s my Ieast attractive quality. along with my stubbornness and selfishness.”

“well, i don’t think that’s the whole picture,” you assure her. vi looks at you incredulously. “i won’t lie and say that your actions aren’t….thoughtless sometimes. you’re more self-centred than selfish—”

“hey!” 

“but you obviously feel some sense of responsibility, for your team, your family, for what you think is right. hell — the reason my boss asked me to kick you out is because you started a bar fight with that frat boy who was insisting he had the right dick to set lesbians straight.”

vi scoffs. “asshole.”

“i was about to throw him out, but you beat me to the punch. literally.” you nudge your shoulder against vi’s, and she chuckles. “and, yeah, you’re stubborn, which can be annoying, but it also means that you’d never give up, that you’re willing to keep trying despite the odds, so….” 

“so….?”

vi’s looking at you with the widest, softest eyes. fuck, you never expected her to be this gentle, so much so that it you want to melt to her every need. 

“i’m hoping third time’s the charm, varsity.”

vi smiles, the most sincere one she’s probably ever given you, and the scar on her lip stretches; for all your talk about responsibility, there’s a part of you who’d risk pushing your already tenuous relationship with your girlfriend to its breaking point just so you could kiss vi, guilt-free, just once. maybe you have a bit of a reckless streak, too.

“thanks, wonder woman. you won’t regret it.”

yeah. you kind of already do.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi would never admit it, but one reason she fought to keep her community service assignment here is because she wanted to keep seeing you. 

she likes getting under your skin, seeing those pretty eyes roll whenever she strides in late for a meeting, that kissable jaw clench any time you catch her tangled up with someone else. 

it almost makes up for all those nights at sappho’s you’d spent flirting back and forth, some sort of unspoken agreement between you to never go further.

sometimes, it’s just nice to have a crush in your back pocket, to know that they’ll always be there to admire and admire you back while others come and go.

the more time you spend together, though, the more vi realizes that you’re not just a fictional character in her head, in a fantasy she pictures before bed — no, you’re tangible.

vi watches as you bring special tea for gert when their period cramps are particularly painful; she listens to you console mel after another fight with her mother and offer advice to sky when she was hoping to ask out her lab partner. vi notices how you prefer your coffee with a dash of cinnamon; and she learns that you had your first kiss with a girl in your freshman year journalism class, and that your first tattoo was done by the same person. a stick-and-poke star on your ankle.

she can hear your laugh, feel the cool metal of your rings brush against her skin accidentally when you’re squeezing past her in a crowded room, smell your perfume when you hug her goodbye. you have stories and quirks and expectations and opinions that vi subconsciously files away as she gets to know you better.

you’re not just a crush, anymore. 

you’re a friend. 

vi likes having you as a friend. really — she does!

you’re a friend who makes vi’s heart jump at the sight of your name on her phone. a friend who smirks when vi blushes after you tell her she has the prettiest cheekbones you’ve ever seen. a friend who mentions this vibrator that gave you one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had, so vi orders the same one and maybe still pictures you before bed, imagining that you’re using it at the same time. except someone else might be next to you.

yeah, vi’s pretty sure you’re dating someone, but that’s something she hasn’t gathered enough information on. 

not that it matters. she wouldn’t be interested in anything serious, anyways, after the mindfuck that was her relationship with caitlyn, and the damage she’s still having to heal from.

though, if that hadn’t happened, vi would have never gotten into a fight with maddie nolan, the second striker for the piltover knights, who taunted her during an exhibition game about how caitlyn is so much happier now that she isn’t disgracing herself with a filthy zaunite. vi would have never been banned from the first half of the tournament and chewed out by coach sevika for fucking up the yellowjackets’ chance at nationals. 

vi would have never been put on academic probation and assigned to 100 hours of community service, either.

she certainly wouldn’t have been here, now, in the women’s centre office close to midnight on a tuesday, folding the most recent issue of the black rose when you walk in.

“oh. hey, v.” you drop down on the zebra-striped couch, your tote bag falling to the ground. “i thought sky was gonna be here tonight.”

vi shakes her head, removing one earbud and letting it dangle from the cord. “she’s got this huge chem report due tomorrow, had to meet up with viktor to get it done.”

“right…” you sigh and lie back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. a few moments pass, and there’s only your steady breathing. “what are you listening to?”

your eyes are closed when vi settles in next to you. it’s a relatively tight fit, but it doesn’t seem like either of you particularly care. vi gently places an earbud in your ear.

you snort, opening your eyes. “you could have just said the cranberries.”

“i’m surprised you recognize them,” vi quips. “it’s not your usual angry girl music.”

“well, sometimes people surprise you. this is actually one of my favorite songs,” you explain. “it’s in one of my favorite movies, too.”

“you’ve got mail?”

you furrow your brows. “when harry met sally.”

vi shakes her head. “no, ‘dreams’ is definitely in you’ve got mail. but, i agree that when harry met sally is a better movie.”

“you’ve watched nora ephron movies and enjoyed them?”

“well, sometimes people surprise you,” vi teases. “i can appreciate a good love story as much as the next person.”

you let out a short, airy laugh. you tilt your head and you’re so close to vi that you’re practically exchanging the same breath. your eyes land on her lips for a millisecond, and vi starts to lean in before you sit up abruptly. 

“i could use some alcohol.” you climb over vi and go to the desk, pull out a half empty bottle of fruit-flavored soju from a drawer. you grab two mugs — the hayley kiyoko one, and another with frida kahlo. you stop short of pouring, looking to vi. she nods. 

soon enough, you’ve got your legs strewn along vi’s lap, sipping lychee infused alcohol. 

“can i ask you something?”

“anything,” vi answers, squeezing your calf.

“why’d you and caitlyn break up?” the question hangs in the air for a second before you add: “if you don’t wanna talk about it though, i understand.” 

shit. it’s definitely not vi’s favorite topic of conversation, but….

“i think she thought that i was one of the good ones, that regardless of the way i grew up or the blood that coursed through my veins, i would be her perfect little charity case. people would be like: future president kiramman definitely cares about the poor — just look at the broke angry lesbian she’s turned into her docile wife!” 

you suck in a sharp breath. “fuck that.” 

“yeah,” vi laughs sadly. “the worst part is that she wanted me to be vulnerable with her, so i was, because i thought the more i opened up, the more she’d love me, but, in the end….i was too messy. i was too much.” 

vi hates the lump that starts to build in her throat, the tears that threaten to spill. she cannot cry in front of you —

you grab her hand. your skin is cool against hers, and it eases her quickening heartbeat.

“you’re not too much, v.” your voice soothes her like honey, trickling down her throat. “it sucks, though, when they ask you to rip your heart out of your chest and get mad at you for bleeding out in front of them.”

“shit, i never thought of it so…viscerally, but that’s exactly what it feels like.”

“well you’re not a creative writing major,” you quip. “i know it still hurts — trust me, i know — but your heart was never hers if she treated you that badly. you deserve more.” 

is it the alcohol messing with her brain, or does it look like you want to kiss her?

fuck. 

vi clears her throat. “why’re you asking?”

you pull your hand away, take a sip of your drink. “jules broke up with me a few days ago.”

you’re single now. good to know. 

“what happened?”

“i caught her kissing someone at a bar. a boy.” you roll your eyes. “maybe she just wasn’t ready, which is fine, but when we had it out, she told me that what we had isn’t what romance is supposed to feel or look like, which sucked. especially after being so….vulnerable with her.”

“you offered her that bleeding heart of yours, didn’t you?” 

you click your tongue, pouring some more soju into each mug. “course i did, v. and it didn’t mean anything in the end. because relationships suck.”

“i’ll drink to that.” 

you cheers, keeping eye contact. 

“and you know what?” you take a big, long gulp. “i know that relationships aren’t just about sex, but i’ve been having to get myself off for months now and sometimes, i just want someone else to —”

“take care of you?”

vi sips her drink, watching you mull over her words.

“not sure if i’d put it like that,” you decide. “i just miss that excitement. when another person wants to discover what makes you feel good, and wanting to learn how to make them feel good, too. i miss having that connection with someone.” 

“i’m guessing you didn’t have that with jules, then.” 

“ha! no. and paula…the girl i dated before….let’s just say, she didn’t give a shit whether i felt good, in any sense.” you shift in your seat; vi senses there’s a story there, but she doesn’t push. “how about future president kiramman — she take care of you?”

vi can’t help but laugh. “nah. i mostly took care of her. she sure liked it when i got down on my knees for her.”

you hum. 

“lucky her.” 

you wink at vi, and she chokes on her drink. 

i would gladly do it for you, if that’s something you want.

“is that a genuine offer? because, if you’re joking —”

shit. did vi say that out loud? 

vi’s heart is beating out of her chest, but she sits up straighter to regain some level of composure. she nods. 

no use in turning back now.

“i’m serious, wonder woman.”

you stare at her. “i really can’t have another relationship that’s just gonna crash and burn.”

“that’s not what i’m offering. i care about our - our friendship. i care about you.”

you swallow. “i care about you, too.”

“right, and when our friends need help with something….”

“we help them,” you finish. “so, you’re really just talking about casual sex. right now, on this couch?”

“yes,” vi answers. maybe a bit too quickly. “if that’s what you want, too.”

“that’s what i want,” you reply. maybe a bit too quickly, too. “but none of this one sided bullshit: you do me, i do you.”

vi takes your mug, puts it next to hers on the floor, and repositions your bodies so that she’s hovering above you, hips set between yours.

“sounds perfect to me.” 

you finally, finally kiss and it feels oddly…familiar. you taste like lychees and nicotine and cherries, burnt sweetness, and your skin is so fucking soft.

“wait.” you tug on vi’s hair and she has to bite back a moan at how fucked out you already look underneath her, all wide-eyed and desperate. “just so we’re 100% clear: just sex.”

vi nods once. “no strings attached.”

“it’ll be casual.” 

“we’re not doing the whole relationship thing.”

“promise?”

vi sticks out her pinky, grinning at you sheepishly. you roll your eyes ever so slightly, but still wrap your pinky around hers.

“promise.” 

so, you take care of each other. no strings attached.

because that’s what friends are for, right? 

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

v ⚽

are u busy rn? got out of my lab early and im bored 

wndr wmn ☆

yeah, im at work

v ⚽️

leave early. im BORED and HORNY

wndr wmn ☆

ofc you are 

v ⚽️

pls u love it 

u know #6 isn’t just my jersey number ;))

i’m implying that i will give u 6 consecutive orgasms

wndr wmn ☆

yeah i got that 

v ⚽️

so….

wndr wmn ☆

….

leaving now

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

“you sure about this, v?” 

vi hums, looking up at you through hooded eyes. “isn’t it every girl’s dream to get tied up by the lasso of truth, wonder woman?”

you’re straddling her, still wearing your red and gold bodysuit underneath blue shorts that you’ve decorated with silver stars. your makeshift lasso of truth — really, just some gold rope — sparkles, tying vi’s wrists together to the headboard.

the theme of the women’s centre halloween celebration is always the same — dress up at your favorite female icon — but you’d never seen someone look as good as vi does. she dressed as trinity from the matrix, all tight, black leather and vinyl, showcasing her defined muscles as the gods intended.

now, she’s left in a sleeveless cropped top and black boyshorts, with her pants and jacket thrown somewhere on your apartment floor. 

you have a feeling she really liked your costume, too, because she practically begged you to take control tonight. 

“if it gets too much, our safeword will be —”

“sappho.” the slight whine of impatience in her voice sends a jolt right to your core.

“perfect.”

you kiss her lips, her jaw, her neck, your lipstick leaving angry red marks. you lodge your bare thigh in between vi’s legs, biting your bottom lip when you feel her already warm and wet, when you hear her whimper as you apply more pressure to where she needs you most. you reach into your nightstand for your vibrator and switch it on, teasing vi’s nipples through her shirt. 

vi moans, deep and loud. not even thirty seconds, and she’s already pulling at the restraints, the headboard creaking. 

“are you gonna be a good girl for me, violet?” you coo, inching the vibrator lower and lower, feeling her shake underneath you. “because we’ve got all night, and you better not break my bed.”

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

“hey, so — i found these in between one of the couch cushions, thought maybe they might be yours.”

you can only spare a glance at the item mel is holding up — you’re grading freshman papers, focused on this one student’s thesis about gender fluidity in shakespeare’s twelfth night.

“oh, those are vi’s.”

“hm. and just how is it that you know what her underwear looks like?”

you stop writing mid-sentence and look up at mel who’s giving you a pointed look. 

you and vi had been the ones to clean up after feminist film friday last week, and one thing led to another….

in your defense: vi had been wearing these low cut jeans that showed off her v-line, and you could tell she didn’t have her usual sports bra on because you could see the outlines of her nipple rings through her tight, white tank top. it took everything in you to wait until people cleared out during the credits of the watermelon woman to pin her down and have her whimpering for you.

“i just…guessed.”

“right.” mel rolls her eyes. “so, you and violet are….what? fucking? dating?”

you clear your throat and take a sip of lukewarm coffee. 

“we’re keeping it casual,” is all you say.

“are you sure that’s a good idea?”

you just shrug.

“just — be careful,” mel, always the diplomatic one, eases. she walks towards you, sits on the edge of the desk, and hands you the pair of black briefs. “i know we all teased you about it before, but i don’t want to see you get hurt. i’ve seen you get your heart broken one too many times.”

“it’s fine, mel,” you assure her, grabbing the piece of fabric and shoving it at the bottom of your bag. you’re visiting their owner after this, anyways. “vi and i are just friends helping each other out.”

mel raises an eyebrow. “well, you and i have been friends for years and we’ve never gotten that close.”

“that’s different.”

“how so?”

“i appreciate your concern,” you say, avoiding the question. “but it’s fine. nice, actually.” 

“it’s your life,” mel sighs. “maybe don’t fuck on our couches anymore, though.” 

your cheeks heat up. you turn your attention back to the essay in front of you.

“noted.”

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi starts showing up at your place after soccer. 

she’s allowed back on the field during games now, so she appears with a winning grin, a grass-stained uniform and fresh bruises on her knees. one time, she had the remnants of a bloody nose after a header gone wrong, and you could taste copper when she pressed her lips against yours before she hopped in the shower.

you keep her go-to body wash stocked — bergamot and cedarwood scented old spice — but she always walks out of the bathroom smelling like your mango-vanilla shower gel. sometimes even your coconut shampoo. she slips on one of your oversized graphic tees, drapes a light purple towel around her shoulders to avoid staining your shirt with her cheaply dyed black hair, fading back to pink with each wash. she walks over to the fridge in her soft gray sweatpants rolled at the ankles and cracks open one of the spiced-pear red bulls as you pull ingredients out for dinner. usually something quick and simple, since it’s always a long week and neither of you have capacity for anything more.

vi chops garlic and tells you about her game; you boil water for pasta and tell her about the latest drama between students in your literature class. 

you pretend you have all the time in the world.

because you both know that vi’s got the strap packed in her gym bag, that soon one thing will lead to another and she’ll be fucking you with it until you’re both sweaty and spent and exhausted in the best way possible. 

you’ve established this routine together, agreed upon several unspoken rules: no pillow talk once it’s over; no actually falling asleep in the other’s bed; no crossing that thin sapphic line between friendship and romance. 

no breaking that promise.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

wndr wmn

wanna come over? i’m watching bend it like beckham

v ⚽️

MY FAVORITE!!

i would love 2

but lucky fell asleep on me 

we just finished devouring an xl pepperoni pizza 

wndr wmn

remind me again why your one-eyed golden retriever likes pizza so much?

v ⚽️

come on it’s cute

[v ⚽️ sent an attachment]

wndr wmn

yeah, you’re cute

v ⚽️

<3 

come over here instead?

wndr wmn

omw

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi whines, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“come on — hurry up.”

“you practically begged for this, v,” you chide. 

“yeah, but you’re taking too long and your hands are fucking freezing.”

“it’s the irony deficiency, babe,” you quip. “now, are you gonna be a good girl and let me finish?”

“fine,” vi grumbles. she does stop squirming, though. you hum, pleased.

you certainly didn’t miss the way her breath hitches at the nickname. vi’s right hand, freshly polished, tightens on your thigh.

you’re not sure why she called you at 1:27am for your help with this, or why she couldn’t just do it herself, but you’re sitting on her lap, painting her nails the color of pomegranate juice, a color she had chosen from the options you brought.

sure, you were about to turn in for an early night, but the moment you heard her voice through the phone, you rushed over to her place wearing nothing but your pajamas — plaid boxer shorts and a spiderman shirt that vi wore last time she was at yours, and you haven’t washed since.

you stretch time out as much as you can, meticulous in every stroke, but painting her nails doesn’t take much longer. you start to move off her lap — it’s probably time for you to leave — but vi grabs your hips, a playful smirk on her lips.

oh, right. that’s the type of relationship — friendship — you and vi agreed upon.

shit. you’re pretty sure that you’re wearing your days of the week underwear. is it a turn-off that you’ve got on a saturday pair on a thursday?

it doesn’t really matter, anyways.

instead of initiating a kiss, vi takes the bottle of polish from you, swaps it for black, and gestures for your hand. you blink at her, until you realize what she’s asking.

“oh! you don’t have to —”

“you do me, i do you.” vi grins at you. “i thought that was our arrangement.” 

you laugh, feeling warmth radiate from your chest.

it’s kind of….adorable, the furrow of her brow, the way she curses under her breath when a drop of nail polish falls onto your skin. she’s surprisingly gentle, too, one of her hands holding yours for support while the other paints. 

while she focuses on getting the polish onto your nails in even layers, you busy yourself by counting vi’s freckles. 

violet rose atlas has a constellation of freckles sparkling across her cheeks. you hope there’s enough time in the world for you to memorize every single one.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

v ⚽️

do u need more nicotine gum? 

im at cvs rn

wndr wmn

yeah that’d be great!!

v ⚽️

ok 

i’ll get u the cinnamon one

that’s the one u like right?

wndr wmn

yep!!!

v ⚽️

okay cool

im also gonna get u some of those iron supplements

wndr wmn

my hero 🙏🏽

thank you sm

v ⚽️

ofc

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

“that red head was trying to get your number.”

“are you jealous, v?”

vi scoffs, sipping her cherry coke. “of course not. i’m just observant.”

you’d convinced your manager to let vi back into sappho’s. it’s nice, really, to see her back here again. 

nice, but different. 

gone are the days of staring at her from across the room, where she would be charming someone else, and only flirting with you when she came over to get another whiskey for herself and vodka something for her date. instead, she jokes around with mel, sky, and gert if they’re around, and sometimes brings her teammates in as well to play a game of pool. she usually has one drink, and then switches to something non-alcoholic. sometimes, vi doesn’t even come in for a drink; she just stops by to say hi before a team dinner or a study session.

(it’s fine — never once have you gotten an overpriced coffee from the cafe she started working at mid-october, and you probably stop by once a week between errands. that’s your excuse, anyways.)

so. things are different, but nice. 

you lean across the sticky counter. “you want me to get down on my knees for you right now to prove which girl here i’d like to go home with?”

“baby….” vi shifts on the bar stool. it’s hard to tell under the dim multicolored lights, but you’re pretty sure she’s blushing, too. 

“i think we both know you’d draw a bit too much attention to yourself. especially when i use my tongue to —”

“my car’s outside.” 

you smirk. “my break’s in 15.”

you used to spend your breaks in the alley outside sappho’s burning through a cigarette. now you find yourself knee-deep in the passenger seat, eating vi out like she’s the last thing you’ll ever taste. 

“f-fuck,” vi groans. 

“feels good, yeah?” you tease her clit with her tongue, sliding two fingers into her easily. you work fast, determined to let her finish before you run out of time.

“so fucking good. i’m gonna —”

she clenches around your fingers; you lap her up eagerly, let her writhe against your face until she’s had enough. 

you sit back on your knees once her hips still, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. you crane your neck to check the time on the dashboard, when you notice something in the footwell.

“vi! i thought i lost this.”

vi grins at you sheepishly, chest still heaving as you hold up the complete works of audre lorde, a tattered book with a well-worn spine and dog-eared pages. 

“sorry. i meant to put it back on your nightstand once i was finished.”

you open to where she’s placed a makeshift bookmark — the ticket from an underground sirens of zaun show you’d both gone to. you’ve had this copy since freshman year, the scribble of your handwriting in the margins of practically on every page.

“it’s okay,” you tell her. “you like it so far?”

“yeah.” she grabs the book from you gently, thumbing through the pages. you wonder if vi registers the curves of her own smile, tender and bashful. “honestly, i’m not usually a fan of poetry, but it’s really cool how lorde writes about desire between women in such a tangible way, you know? i really liked this one verse in ‘recreation:’ ‘touching you, i catch midnight as moon fires set in my throat.’ it’s just so - so beautiful, the idea of something so domestic and mundane being almost magical, because that’s what it’s really like when —”

you don’t even realize that you’re staring until vi looks up at you and freezes.

“sorry,” she clears her throat, closing the book and setting it aside. “did i say something wrong?”

you assure vi that she did nothing wrong. 

you exit her car, the taste of her lingering on your tongue, the feeling of her keeping your body warm on this cold november night.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

wndr wmn

hey

are you in town during break?

v⚽️

having dinner at my dads’ on friday but otherwise im here

why? u gonna miss me?? 

wndr wmn

lol

im having ppl over for friendsgiving on sunday

if you wanna join

v ⚽️

hell yeah

can i bring anything?

wndr wmn

just your pretty face

i’ll take care of the rest

turkey, cranberry, sauce, stuffing, sweet potatoes, pumpkin pie…

etc. etc.

v ⚽️

damn!!!!

full course meal

wndr wmn

yep

im basically wife material

v⚽️

pls we’re so over gender norms

but yeah

you are

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi has never been the type to wait by the phone for a girl to text, or to show up at her place after not hearing from her in a while, worried that she might have done something wrong. 

yet here she is, standing outside your door.

it’s cool, though. completely platonic behavior.

she knocks. 

there’s no answer. 

she knocks again.

nothing.

vi waits another second, leaning her shoulder against the door.

“it’s me, wonder woman,” she tries. 

hope flutters in her chest as she hears you shuffle, unchain the lock. vi stumbles as you throw the door open, but she recovers quickly to find you: smudged black eyeliner enhancing the shadows underneath your eyes, hair in disarray, clothes disheveled. 

“i’m not really in the mood for sex.”

vi can’t help but laugh, even though your comment feels like a punch to the face.

“wow. figured you would think more of me by now than just some horny teenage boy.”

“look, vi —”

vi? 

since when do you call her that?

“i’m sorry i missed the meeting today. i texted mel —”

damn, so your phone does work. 

you’ve just been ignoring her calls and texts.

“but i’m just… it’s not a good time, okay? i’ll see you around.”

ah. 

the classic generic excuse and non-committal statement combo.

you start to close the door on her before she even has a chance to get a word in.

the hits just keep coming. 

thankfully, vi’s always been a good fighter.

“wait.” vi places her palm firmly on the door before you can fully shut her out. “i’m just here to check on you.” 

your face remains unchanged.

“okay, well, you’ve checked on me.” 

“yeah, i’ve checked on you. you look like shit.”

you glare at her. “well i’m sorry i didn’t have the time to get all prettied up for you. i know that you like me better that way.”

“that’s not what i  —”  vi inhales sharply. she’s a fighter, but she doesn’t want to fight you. “mel dropped the news — about admin officially cutting our funding. i knew how that would affect you, so….” vi lifts the bag of takeout. “i brought some thai food for us to share. a pomegranate, too, because i know you like seasonal fruit. it’s been a while and honestly, i just….i just wanted to spend time with you.”

you exhale, your eyes softening. 

there. 

a hesitant smile, an invitation to come inside.

there are clothes all over your floor and dishes piled high in the sink. your desk is littered with empty boxes of cereal and cans of an energy drink that normally you’d never touch. the blanket that sky had crocheted for you — lavender and pink checkered — is unfolded on your couch, your laptop half-closed on the coffee table in front next to two stacks of printed essays — ones marked with purple pen, the others untouched. in contrast, your bed is still perfectly made. 

you take the blanket and wrap it around your shoulders, sitting at the kitchen table and curling into yourself. vi busies herself in cracking open the pomegranate, putting the seeds into the last clean bowl in your cupboard. the palms of her arm wraps are now stained a reddish-purple, but she doesn’t care.

vi manages to find two pairs of clean chopsticks for the thai food, and the two of you eat in silence. 

“so….” vi starts, watching you stab a piece of chicken before popping it into your mouth. “you wanna talk about it, or….?”

“what’s there to talk about?”

“well, for starters, maybe tell me what’s been getting you into full hibernation mode? we haven’t seen each other in, like, a week.”

“six days,” you correct, chewing a mouthful of noodles. “last tuesday, we played pool during my closing shift at sappho’s. i lost. you made me down two shots of tequila because you’re a menace and you know i hate it.” 

“yeah, but i drove you home and tucked you into bed with water and advil for later, so i’m also a gentleman. so, just tell me what’s been going on. we’ll figure it out, yeah?”

“it’s fine,” you grumble.

“clearly, it’s not. just tell me what you need.”

“what i need is to not be distracted,” you huff, avoiding eye contact. “i certainly don’t need you —”

“taking care of you, i know.” vi grabs your hand from across the table. she feels you stiffen on instinct, and then ease into the heat of her skin. “trust me, i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t want to be. so — humor me.”

vi squeezes your hand, hoping to reassure you. 

you sigh. “i’ve just — i’ve been spiralling trying to figure out how the centre can keep going with, like, half our required budget, trying to see if we can get some external donors and i still need to finalize the venue and equipment rentals for our last open mic….and….and my sibling called again to tell me that things haven’t been great at home, so i want to go down there this weekend to sort everything out, but my car hasn’t been starting….plus i’m behind on grading, and i told my supervisor i’d have a complete draft ready by thursday and i’m not even halfway done, and that’s the same day we’re having that art build for the climate rally on friday, and i’ve been having the worst cramps since this afternoon, and all i wanna do is pass out and sink into my duvet, but i need to keep going —”

vi squeezes your hand again, this time more firmly. “you need to slow down.” 

“i can’t.” you huff. “i have to keep everything from falling apart, and if i don’t….”

vi shifts to the chair next to yours, still holding your hand. 

“but you can’t do it all if you’re too exhausted to take care of yourself. from the looks of it, you’ve been living off of frosted flakes, red bull, and zero sleep.” 

you shrug. “if that’s what it takes.”

“if that’s what it takes, then maybe it’s not worth it.”

“don’t say that,” you tell her. “it’s all worth it. i just wish it wasn’t so…heavy.”

vi nods, because she really, truly understands. she gives you the advice she can see you giving her in another context.

“you ever think that maybe it wouldn’t feel as heavy if you…i don’t know…weren’t too stubborn to ask for help.”

“there are things that are my responsibility, violet,” you tell her, slipping your hand away. you reach for the bowl of pomegranate seeds, meticulously picking up one at a time with your chopsticks and crushing it in between your molars. “i can’t just pass those off to someone else.” 

“fine. but what about other things? like the women’s centre stuff — we’re a team, right? so we’ll figure it out together, divide the labor so you’re not doing everything. and, maybe ask your supervisor for an extension, too? and, well, i don’t really need my car this weekend, so you’re welcome to borrow it.”

you pause, narrowing your eyes at her. 

“you said…. ‘we.’”

“well, yeah. i’m part of the team, aren’t i?”

“but you’ll be finished with your hours in a week. there’s no reason for you to stay.”

“of course there is,” vi whispers, studying your face as it morphs from suspicious to something else, something gentler. 

her heart is pounding as she waits for you to say something, so vi starts to dig into the pomegranate seeds, the juice surprisingly more sweet than sour. some dribbles out from the corner of her lips, and you reach over to wipe it away with your thumb.

“i’d love for you to stay,” you hum, smiling, and vi feels her chest glow with a brightness it seems only you can bring out. “turns out you give pretty good advice.”

“so…you’ll consider it.”

you shrug again. “maybe. i am very tempted to take you up on the car thing.”

“all yours, if you want it.”

“are you sure?”

“it’s fine, wonder woman. i’ll just carpool to practice — it’s better for the environment, anyways. can’t show up to the climate rally as a hypocrite, can i?” she jokes, and you roll your eyes playfully. “and, i’ll try to fix your car while you’re away.”

“wow. you are a gentleman.”

“gentleman? baby, i’m husband material.”

you actually laugh.

“i thought we were over gender norms,” you quip. “but yeah. you are.” 

vi’s cheeks heat up at your statement. you most definitely notice her blushing because you break out into a toothy grin

“i missed you, v,” you admit. “any other words of wisdom?”

despite your tender smile, you look exhausted. vi just wants to hold you through it all, tell you it’s gonna be okay. instead, she settles for placing a gentle hand on your cheek, running her thumb over the deep shadow underneath your eye. 

“get some rest, pretty girl.”

a few hours later, you wake up alone. 

you have a vague memory of warm arms wrapped around you, a heart beating steadier than yours. your sheets smell like old spice, your apartment smells like fresh laundry. you get out of bed and notice that there are no more dishes in your sink, no more cans or containers on any surface. all the clothes you’d been meaning to wash are now carefully folded on your couch. 

there’s a bright pink sticky note on your nightstand next to the keys to vi’s car.

you talk in your sleep. something about stargazing? maybe we can go when you get back. 

drive safe. text me if you need anything.

xxx

- v

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

zaun yellowjackets vs. piltover knights. 

two minutes left in overtime. 

one goal standing in the way of their trophy. one goal to end piltover’s monopoly over the title of national champions. 

caitlyn probably told her knights to be extra aggressive — win by any means necessary — so it’s been a long game of dirty plays and intentional fouls.

vi always puts her heart into every single game, but this time —

this time, it’s personal. 

zaun’s defense works to regain possession and prevent piltover’s attack. ashe manages to intercept a pass between two knights, and is quick in dribbling the ball until mid-field. she sends it over to vi with a swift kick. vi’s quick on her feet, catching piltover’s defense by surprise, sprinting closer and closer to the goal. she makes it to the penalty box.

this could be the winning point. 

vi has it, too. she’s so fucking close, about to fake out the goalie and kick into that hard-to-defend sweet spot — until a sharp, pointy elbow collides with her ribs so abruptly, it knocks the wind out of her lungs. she stumbles forward over the ball, knees skidding onto the grass. whoever it is also steps on vi’s cleat for good measure. 

“fuck!” she looks up to see who it is.

of course. it’s maddie fucking nolan, who doesn’t spare so much as a glance as the ref doles out a red card. she nods at caitlyn as she walks off the field, no doubt following her captain’s orders.

her teammates help vi to her feet, and the ref makes sure everyone is in position for the penalty kick.

this could be the winning point. vi just has to ignore caitlyn’s icy stare from a few feet away, and the heart threatening to beat out of her chest. 

vi takes a deep breath. 

she looks to the stands. among the crowd of screaming fans, zaunites and pilties alike, is vi’s family. they’re cheering.

you’re there too, sitting next to them. 

everyone is staring at vi, waiting for the whistle, waiting for her to make the shot, but the only person she stares back at is you.

you’ve got this, v, you had whispered to her the night before. she couldn’t sleep, so she called you. vi wishes she was back there, now — tangled in flannel sheets, lucky snoring at the foot of the bed, gazing up at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to her ceiling until she finally fell asleep in your arms.

but, vi’s on the field. 

and this is the winning point. 

the whistle blows. 

she makes the shot.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

“i told you i wasn’t a jinx!” powder sticks her tongue out at mylo.

she’s all sweat and dirt and adrenaline, but, fuck, if vi isn’t so, incredibly happy and proud of her team, of everything they’ve been through, everything they’ve accomplished.

it almost doesn’t feel real.

just like it doesn’t feel real, seeing you talk animatedly with her sister’s boyfriend, laughing along with her siblings, smiling as you watch her dads hug and praise her.

when it’s your turn to do the same, you practically leap into vi’s arms, gushing about how amazing she was, how proud you are of her. 

“this looks good on you,” vi hums, as you pull away from another hug. her fingers play with the bottom of the jersey, and she bites the inside of her cheek to ground herself in the moment. you, with her family. you, in her jersey. “thinking of joining the yellowjackets?”

“i think i’ll leave the soccer to you,” you tell her. “you were amazing out there. guess i should be calling you wonder woman from now on, huh?”

“wonder woman! that’s where i remember you from!” vander suddenly exclaims, stepping closer to the pair of you. silco turns around, too. “you once tried to get into the last drop with a fake id, didn’t you? under the name diana prince?”

“shit,” you laugh nervously, eyes flickering between vander and the ground as if you’re once again a teenager caught in the act. “i….probably did.”

“i kicked you out, told you to go home to themyscira.”

“yeah…i….i remember that.” you nod slowly, furrowing your brows. “except, i didn’t want to go home that night, so i lingered outside,” you continue. you turn to vi, and your face softens. “which was when you —”

“brought two glasses of cherry coke and rum,” vi finishes; she sees flashes of that night as you gaze into her eyes. “we climbed onto the roof and —”

that was her first kiss. vi never even realized until now, but —

you were her first kiss.

“i can’t believe i forgot that.”

“weird, how memory works,” you agree, tilting your head curiously, looking at vi with a newfound interest, like a ghost from your past.

“well, isn’t this a story we’ll be sharing on your wedding day!” vander chuckles, ruffling vi’s hair. 

“don’t pressure them, darling,” silco chides, but the smirk growing on his face gives him away. he’s loving this drama. “they’re barely 23 — i doubt they’ve discussed marriage.” 

“oh, we’re not —”

“yeah, we’re just —”

“friends,” you say at the same time, careful to avoid eye contact.

vi feels like she might burst into flames at the knowing look vander and silco share.

“well, violet, would your friend like to join us for a celebratory dinner?” silco asks.

so that’s how you’re sitting between powder and claggor, listening to them talk your ear off about the young innovator’s competition. vi’s sitting across from you, next to ekko, who occasionally pipes in. 

you’re here, sharing the tradition of a post-game meal with vi’s family at the local pizza parlour. 

caitlyn never even wanted to meet vi’s family.

a few pizzas are ordered for the table, and you eat and laugh and sip your soda along with everyone else. you make a flower out of your paper napkin and hand it to isha, who’s on the other side of powder, and she gives you a toothy grin in return. you answer all the standard questions about your job and major and plans for the future.

“after graduation, i’m probably gonna take a break, get some work experience,” you explain. “maybe save up some money for law school a few years down the road.”

“you wanna be a lawyer, huh? you sure you wanna be friends with a felon, then?” powder asks, blowing bubbles into her soda through her straw. 

vi coughs, choking on a mushroom. 

“powder!” 

“what! she never told you?”

you shake your head, glancing over at vi who suddenly finds it hard to look you in the eye. your foot has been pressed against hers underneath the table all night; you pull it away now. she takes a big gulp of water; vi looks over at vander and silco for help, but they seem to be caught up in their own conversation.

“oh, damn! ” mylo adds, leaning over. “it’s a great story!” 

“guys, maybe don’t —”

“but it’s a great story!” mylo insists. “shows what a badass you are!”

“she didn’t do anything serious, like murder or anything,” powder clarifies. “it was really just her pissing off some enforcers —”

“rightfully so,” ekko adds. 

claggor nods. “we were just kids. they were harassing us for some bullshit, disruption of property or whatever, so vi steps in and things get heated —”

“it takes three of enforcers to get her handcuffed, but she manages to get a few nasty hits in before they send her off to stillwater —”

“she spends three days there —”

“i thought it was two —”

“no, it was three —”

“needless to say, this isn’t the first time vi has been sentenced to community service, but it seems she’s really enjoying it this time, thanks to you,” powder finishes, winking at you. 

“well that’s….quite the story,” you finally say, voice steady. 

“oh! let’s tell her about the time she stole from some enforcers that were hoarding food —”

as powder continues the story, and you listen intently, it’s hard to read your expression.

are you ashamed of being friends with her? disgusted by her family, her past? regretful that you ever let her touch you, let her into your life? 

vi’s stomach turns when your eyes collide; she’s been down this road before, and vi’s scared that she knows exactly what you’re thinking.

she pushes her chair back and disappears to the bathroom before she has to watch you walk away.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

there’s a knock on the door.

“someone’s in here,” vi says. she grips the edge of the counter so hard, her knuckles turn white. 

deep breaths. 

this isn’t the same as before.

this isn’t caitlyn, who threw vi out like a piece of trash when something better came along. 

then again, you never knew this much about vi’s past. you’re well within your right to —

there’s another knock.

“v? it’s me….i have to get going, but i wanted to check on you before i leave.”

“okay,” vi clips. she looks up at herself in the mirror; she had splashed her face with cold water to calm herself down. a drop falls from her chin. “bye.”

“are you sure you’re okay?”

“i’m fine. see you around.”

you sigh, and vi hears you settle against the doorframe. 

“violet, let me in,” you press. “please?” 

“i’m fine. you can leave.”

“okay, well, i’m not leaving until i see that gorgeous face of yours one more time,” you whisper. “i got all dolled up just for you, and all i wanna do is give you a proper goodbye….” 

well, when you put it like that….

vi grabs some paper towel to dry her face and fixes her hair before opening the door for you. you smile knowingly, enter and lock the door behind you. 

you lean against the door as vi leans against the counter, the marble digging into her lower back.

“okay, i’ll start because, frankly, i don’t have time to waste,” you state after a few moments of silence. “nothing i’ve learned about you tonight has changed how i see you. it’s just confirmed some things.”

“right. like how impulsive and violent and reckless i’ve always been,” she lists glumly, unable to look you in the eye.

“maybe you are all those things,” you pause. “but, i don’t fucking care. i mean, i do, because it’s part of you and i like who you are. i like you.”

your words do wonders to ease the tension throughout vi’s body, and she feels like she can actually take a breath.

vi’s eyes lock onto yours.

“you do?”

“i like who you are, every part of it,” you tell her. “well, i don’t like that you’ve had to fight your way through an unbelievably fucked up system ever since you were a kid, but the bottom line is that you’re the strongest, most compassionate person i know.”

vi blinks at you.

“funny, i was just thinking the same thing about you the other day.”

neither of you say anything for a minute or so, letting the sentiment linger in the small space between you. once more, you’re the one to break the ice.

“well, you know what they say about great minds….” you step closer to vi. you take her chin between your thumb and your index finger. "can you guess what i’m thinking now?" 

vi shakes her head, throat suddenly very dry.

“i’m thinking that i’ve wanted to kiss you all night.”

“what’s stopped you?”

you grin. “i didn’t want to make a fuss in front of your family, but now that we’re alone….”

vi doesn't say anything, but instead closes the gap between your lips.

you kiss her, harsh and messy, tongue and teeth, swallowing her moans as your fingers snake down the waistband of her pants. you pull vi’s bottom lip with your teeth before moving to her neck, nipping along the outline of her tattoo. you bite down harder on her skin, right at her pulse point. 

"what’s that you said earlier —” a low groan tumbles from vi’s lips when you start to suck just above her collarbones. another when your tongue soothes over the sting. “about a proper goodbye…?” she tugs your hair so that you’re looking right at her. 

it’s quite the sight — your lips swollen, chest heaving, eyes curious and lustful.

“anything you want,” you whisper, all breathless. 

vi hums. she slips a hand underneath the frayed hem of your denim skirt, and you gasp as her nails scrape against your inner thigh.

she likes that you’re here. here for her.

"get on your knees for me, sweetheart.”

she pulls down her pants along with her briefs, as you kneel before her without hesitation.

you drape one of her legs over your shoulder, giving your tongue better access to her cunt. vi grips your hair tighter, bringing you in closer, and you moan, sending vibrations up her body.

"fuck," vi hisses. you add a finger, while your tongue works her clit. 

you bring her to the edge, stay with her even as her thighs clench around your skull. she expects you to get back on your feet right away, but you stay, adding another finger and sucking her clit. she moans your name.

you pull away slightly. "one more, pretty girl," you promise. your chin glistens with vi’s release; you lick your lips as you gaze up at her through thick eyelashes. "can you do that for me?" she nods furiously, and you get back to work.

after letting her ride your tongue and fingers through another orgasm, you kiss her ankle before releasing her leg. vi pulls you up to your feet, sucks the taste of herself off your tongue.

you pull away slightly, heart racing against vi’s chest. 

vi swipes her thumb over the smudged lipstick below your lip. she studies you, admires you, like you’re a fucking work of art that belongs in a gallery, like you didn’t just fucked her through two consecutive orgasms in the bathroom at a pizza parlour while wham's "last christmas" plays through shitty speakers.

"take these off." vi tugs at your tights. you do as instructed, slipping off your underwear as well. she pulls you towards her, and lodges a leg in between yours. your bare cunt brushes against her thigh, back and forth as she guides your hips. "i can't believe you got all dressed up…. wearing my jersey, and this pretty little skirt even though it’s so cold outside. all for me?"

vi flexes her thigh muscles, pushing you down faster and harder. you whimper.

"all – all for you.”

vi feels her pussy clench, with the desperation in your voice, the stickiness of your heat against her skin, the smell of the two of you intertwining. your orgasm crashes into you, and vi holds you through it. 

you kiss her ever so sweetly before removing yourself from her grasp, smoothing down your skirt and looking around for your underwear.

"where are my...." 

you look over as vi tucks your fuschia thong into the inner pocket of her jacket.

"i'm guessing you'll buy me replacements for christmas."

vi flashes you a shit eating grin before putting on her own underwear. she then pulls up her pants, not wiping your release from her thigh. she likes the idea of walking around with you seeped into her skin. 

when vi looks over at you, you’re as fully dressed as you can be and busy checking something on your phone. she only sees a flash of your lock screen, but it’s her. a photo of her and lucky playing at the park; there’s snow, so it had to have been a few days ago. 

that doesn’t mean anything, right? people use photos of their friends for their wallpaper all the time.

“i really have to go,” you sigh. you pull a tube of lipstick from your pocket and step closer to the mirror. “hey — do you think we could switch shirts? not sure i should wear this to my next dinner.”

vi nods and you remove her jersey, revealing a matching fuschia bralette. she wonders what’s got you all coordinated — who else you’ve clearly dressed up for. 

“so, you’ve got a hot date?” vi tries to act casual as she takes off her jacket, pulls off her shirt, and waits for you to answer. you take your time, fixing yourself in the mirror.

“something like that,” you finally say with a shy smile.

later, when isha’s asleep on powder’s lap in the backseat, vi thinks about how your date might have gone, if you’re taking them home to the same bed vi has fucked you in throughout these past few months.

where do you get off, fucking vi in the bathroom during dinner while her parents are at the table, only to leave for another date, wearing vi’s shirt, too?

“hey, can i ask you something?” ekko asks from beside her, cutting off the angry monologue in her head.

vi reaches over to turn down the music.

“sure, little man. what’s up?”

“what’s the deal between you and wonder woman?”

vi clears her throat, gripping the steering wheel. “what makes you think there’s a deal?”

“oh, please, we all noticed that hickey on your neck after she visited you in the bathroom.” 

the car crawls to a stop as the light turns red, and vi adjusts the collar of her shirt.

“we’re just friends.”

“well, powder and i were just friends for ages,” ekko points out.

vi doesn’t notice that the light’s turned green until someone behind her honks. she steps on the gas, but the idiot behind her still cuts in front of her.

“asshole,” she grumbles, throwing them a middle finger for good measure. vi glances to her right at ekko, who’s scribbling something in his sketchbook despite only the streetlamps outside providing light. “so, what made you….realize that you wanted something more?”

ekko closes his book, smiling to himself. 

“honestly? it was kinda a million little things, but what it really comes down to is that she’s the only person i could spend every second of my life with, and i’d still want more time. and, in my experience….it’s better to tell someone how you feel sooner rather than later.”

“or, some people prefer to wait a few weeks,” powder mumbles, stirring awake. “nice try, mister, but no interfering. i’m not losing 20 bucks.”

“wait — you’ve bet on my love life?”

ekko smirks. “so it is love.”

vi shrugs, pretends that she doesn’t immediately picture you in your kitchen, making her banana pancakes at 2am when she hears the word love. 

“it doesn’t matter.”

because, it really doesn’t matter. 

you’re out with someone else right now. 

it’s over before it really had a chance to begin.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

cupcake 

Hey, Vi

Just wanted to say good game today

You played brilliantly

Violet

k

cupcake

No need for the attitude

I was just trying to be nice

Violet

my apologies!!!

thank you SO much for recognizing my talent captain kiramman

i feel like i’m actually worth something now!!!

cupcake

Bitterness isn’t a good colour on you, darling

Violet

im NOT your darling

cupcake

I’m aware

I saw you earlier with that girl

Are you together? 

Violet

idk

are you still with maddie?

cupcake

Actually, we broke up

I was hoping you and I could chat

Violet

what’s in it for me?

cupcake

The chance to reconnect with an old friend

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

you can excuse vi no longer attending the weekly team meeting. she finished her 100 hours around thanksgiving, so technically she didn’t need to be there anymore.

maybe you could excuse her ignoring your calls, or leaving your texts on read. it’s finals season, and she did mention picking up a few extra shifts to save up for christmas presents. 

but you simply can’t excuse vi walking into sappho’s with caitlyn fucking kiramman, ordering drinks from you like you’re absolute strangers.

“what the fuck, vi?” you seethe. 

vi glances at her date. caitlyn’s waiting for her back at a table, the glow of her phone screen illuminating her pretty face.

“what, should i have ordered something else? not every girl likes cherry coke and rum.” 

you glare at her from across the counter, but start preparing their drinks nonetheless. 

“why are you with her?” you throw some ice in a glass, the cubes clinking aggressively against the crystal. “are you back together?”

vi has the audacity to roll her eyes at you. “why’d you care?”

you catch yourself before saying something you’ll regret, something about liking her more than you definitely should considering the agreement the two of you had made. 

clearly, vi doesn’t feel the same way; it’s not worth spilling your guts to her at your place of work. 

“because we’re friends.”

“yeah, right,” vi scoffs. “you’re jealous, which you have no right to be because you’re seeing someone, too.”

you accidentally pour a double shot of vodka. you don’t really care, and mix the drink anyways.

“what the fuck are you talking about?” 

“i’m talking about the date you went on the night of my championship game.”

“what date?” you slam the glasses in front of vi, so hard that you’re lucky they didn’t break.

“oh, don’t play dumb.” vi spits your name like it’s poison. “this whole thing started because you said you didn’t want a relationship, when really you just didn’t want a relationship with me. you used me until someone better came along. you lied to me.”

her eyes are glazed over, her voice shaking ever so slightly. you’re not sure if you’re more hurt or angry by what she’s saying, but it cuts deep; you continue as though you aren’t bleeding out in front of her.

“i don’t want a relationship with anyone and certainly not with you —”

“excuse me! are we able to order something?” someone with bright green hair and a septum piercing waves their hand in front of your face.

“yeah, just give us a second —”

“look, you and your girlfriend can fight on your own time.”

“she’s not my girlfriend!” you and vi snap simultaneously. 

you glare at each other.

vi grabs the glasses from the counter, and walks away.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

it took many brainstorming sessions, many boring conversations with potential donors, and many, many tears, but you managed to secure enough funding to keep the women’s centre going for the foreseeable future.  

it was a team effort, of course, so you just want everyone to enjoy this open mic night, the last event of the semester — even though you are weighed down by the absence of a certain someone.

the gallery space on campus that you rented out is both cozy and electric, decorated with fairy lights on the walls, with pillows and blankets on the floor for people to sit and watch performances. there’s a table with drinks and snacks, a corner for people to make art if they’re inspired. 

you’re rearranging the food, watching gert perform an original song when mel slides in next to you, wearing a gorgeous white dress with gold accents. 

“do you mind running to the office? we’re out of paint.”

“really? people don’t usually use the paint.”

“well, it seems to be quite popular tonight.”

“it’s fine. we still have lots of other stuff. they can just collage or something.”

mel shakes her head. “i really think you should go get more paint.”

“maybe ask sky? i should stay here —”

“you could use a break, too,” mel cuts you off, placing a hand on your shoulder. “you’ve been nonstop all day; the rest of us can hold down the fort for a little while.”

you concede, mostly because she’s right and you don’t have the energy to argue. 

when you get to the office, you’re surprised to find the lights on. even more surprised that someone’s already there, sitting on the zebra-striped couch.

“vi?”

she jumps slightly when you say her name.

“mel texted me,” she rushes out like she’s been caught red-handed. “said she needed help with something she’d been planning.” 

you frown, until you realize why mel must have sent you here, specifically. 

you haven’t seen vi since that night at sappho’s; you’d been quite a mess after your shift, ranting to mel on the phone about how she’d been right and you should have been more careful, how you don’t know what you did that ruined whatever you and vi had, and you really don’t know what you can do to fix it.

you’re both too stubborn to reach out to the other, so it seems like mel decided to take matters into her own hands. 

“yeah, i doubt she’s coming,” you tell vi. 

“okay,” vi says, but she doesn’t move. “i, uh, i was hoping i’d run into you, though.”

“yeah?” you raise an eyebrow at vi, crossing your arms. “needed another vodka martini for your piltover princess.”

“she’s not — we’re not together.”

“oh,” you exhale. the animosity you were holding towards her evaporates, but doesn’t completely disappear. you watch her, watching you stand by the doorway. 

there are so many things you want to tell her, but you don’t even know where to start. you know that you’ve hurt her. she hurt you, too.

but, also:

you miss the cloudy blue-gray of her eyes, the scar on her upper lip. 

you miss her.

“do you wanna come sit?”

after being so far away from vi, for what feels like forever, you don’t hesitate to take her up on the offer. your knees brush together as you settle next to her on the couch, a jolt of electricity passing through your body at the contact.

“so, i admit that —”

“vi, you were right —”

both of you stop your sentences short, chuckling nervously. you each urge the other to continue, and only get caught in a similar mess:

“i fucked up,” vi blurts out.

“i lied to you,” you confess at the same time.

an awkward, unfamiliar silence hangs above you; you’re not sure what to do next. 

vi takes the leap. she tells you that mel explained everything: that you had to attend a dinner with alumni and potential donors on the same night of her championship game, but you kept it from vi since it was already a big moment for her; that you haven’t been on a real date with anyone else since september. vi apologizes for jumping to conclusions and falling back into caitlyn’s arms, shutting you out when she should have just talked to you.

you’re the girl who was her first kiss, she says. the girl who lingered in a vague memory, appeared in the fiction of her daydreams, and then suddenly became too real. 

“i like you. i really fucking like you. and if it has to be as a friend, that’s fine because i don’t want to lose you.” vi takes a shattered breath, blinking back tears. she fiddles with the ring on her index finger, anxiously bouncing her knee. you place your hand there to steady her, and she exhales. “i guess i’m just not sure….when you said you liked me that night at the restaurant….is that what you lied about?” 

vi’s practically doe-eyed, waiting for you to respond. 

you shake your head. 

“i lied when i said that i didn’t want a relationship with you,” you admit, and the hint of a smile dances across her lips. “i had this major crush on you, you know? every time you came into sappho’s….i couldn’t help it. and then you showed up here and we became friends, and then we started….well, you know the rest.”

“duh. i was there,” vi jokes, easing into her usual, playful self.  

“i can’t do the whole casual thing,” you continue, rubbing circles into her knee with your thumb. “i know we made a promise, but i just can’t, not with you. it’s like…in every other relationship i’ve been in, i was trying to run out the clock. with you, though, with us, i feel like there’s never enough time —”

vi grabs your neck and crashes her mouth onto yours before you can finish your sentence. 

you’ve kissed each other many times, in many different places, in many different ways, but never like this: like you’re both willing to break one promise if it means forging a new one.

“will you be my girlfriend, violet rose atlas?” you whisper as you pull away, lips brushing against hers.  

you start to count the freckles on her cheeks as she beams at you, pulls you into her lap.

“i thought you’d never ask.”

[alitontress]

-{{…We meet again…}}-

[daycourtofficial]

Loving parents, harmless fun

Pairing: Modern!Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 950 | warnings: none

Summary: slice of life gingerfucker where Eris takes his family on a roadtrip and is only slightly annoyed at his son’s choice of car game

Note: this is a part of my gingerfucker series and is for AU day for @erisweekofficial ❤️

“That’s my cow.”

Atlas’s voice rang through the car, a high pitch of excitement to his words as his finger pointed out the window, Leif’s eyes tracking the movement. Eris paid no attention to either of his sons, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Those are my chickens.”

It was a four hour drive to his in-laws house, to see his wife’s brother and his family. He counted down from ten in his head, trying to remind himself that holidays are supposed to be fun. The car was silent as he leaned his head back, his fingers curling around the steering wheel. The soft sounds of Bon Iver came from the speakers, an album that reminds him of cold, dark drives he took in the winters of his youth. It was a rare occasion - no one was begging for him to play Alvin and the Chipmunks or songs about ducks.

There was enough daylight for them to arrive at their destination before sunset, which gave him hope that maybe Atlas wouldn’t stay up too late tonight. Leif had a strict internal clock - he did most things at the exact same time each day. But his oldest, Atlas, was a mystery, his body having no internal clock for him to follow, leaving Eris clueless as to when he would fall asleep or wake up.

Eris maneuvered their vehicle through the curves of the road, taking in how beautiful the pastures around him were. It was the end of autumn when the vibrance of the leaves are going, occasional glimpses of the red and orange hues that he loved seeing so much. Atlas’s excited yell disrupted the too short peace. “That’s my cow!”

“If I have to hear him decide farm animals are his one more time,” Eris trailed off, his annoyance bubbling, his voice low so only you could hear.

“It was your brother who taught him the game.”

Eris didn’t turn to see the smirk on your face, he could tell by your voice that you were amused by Lucien’s never-ending knowledge of what buttons to push to annoy Eris.

It was a simple game - you see a cow, you claim it. It was cute when they were in the city - Atlas would see cows in billboards and claim them. Out in the country where the cows outnumbered the people - less fun.

“I don’t think he should be allowed near children ever again.”

“Oh yeah? Because he’s like every other uncle the kids have and likes to pay attention to them before teaching them annoying games?”

“My thoughts exactly. He’s also annoying so it means I’d see him less.”

“My cows.”

Atlas broke up your conversation, The quip Eris was sure you had ready dying on the tip of your tongue as his anger flared.

“Where are we - cow country?”

“Yes. You insisted we take back roads so the kids would have more sights. And to delay us getting to Rhysand’s.”

Eris should be surprised you saw through his reasoning for adding forty-five minutes to the drive, but he should know better than to think his wife doesn’t see to the root of all of his actions. The main reason you all were driving instead of flying to Rhysand’s home was simple - he wanted an easy escape. If you were flying, flights are planned and you have to wait for the plane. But if you have your car, you can just leave whenever Eris grows frustrated at his annoying in-laws. Or he can make an excuse for a reason to leave.

“My cows.” Leif’s first cows. You cooed, a soft “good job, Leif” whispered to him. Eris could see the tips of his hair from the rearview mirror, but he knew Leif was glowing in the praise from you.

“Why are we visiting again?”

“Because Feyre had their new baby.”

“Oh, that.” He practically deflated in his seat at how good the reason was for going, hoping that somehow the reason had changed and you could all turn around.

“Eris don’t act like you don’t love Nyx.”

He felt the eyeroll before it happened, slowly coming up on a red light. His wife was right - Nyx was an adorable kid who was very good, despite being half Rhysand and spending a good portion of his time with his uncle Cassian.

“My bird.”

Eris sighed through his nose. The car moved past a cemetery and Eris pointed out the window, “look, all of your cows are dead.”

Gasps were heard from all around him as if he just announced something outlandish. You slapped his arm, causing him to wince. “Eris,” his name was a hiss from your mouth, your eyes focused on him and not looking back at your sons. “They’re sensitive about that.”

Your words were mumbled, the sound having to work past your closed jaw to make it to Eris so the boys wouldn’t hear you.

“They’re fine,” he mouthed back to you, trying his best not to coddle them. It was a tricky line - one he needed frequent help navigating. Having a shitty father isn’t really the best role model for a man. A deep insecurity of his - was he being a regular dad or was he being too harsh? His train of thought was interrupted by Atlas’s hands hitting the car window, desperate for everyone’s attention.

“A hospital! My cows are alive again!”

Eris rolled the car to a stop at the red light, his forehead hitting the steering wheel.

“I thought I had won.”

A hand reached out to rub his back for a moment before he lifted his head, waiting for the light to change to green. The car moved forward, a family undeterred.

“My cow.”

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Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @panther-girl-124

[lynzishell]

The Present 🤍 San Myshuno

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Transcript below the cut:

Phoenix: Hey. Dawn: [sniffles] Hey. Phoenix: Why are you sitting in the dark? Dawn: [shrugs]

Dawn: I was worried you wouldn’t come back. Phoenix: I just needed some time to cool down. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, I’m sorry. Dawn: It’s okay. You were mad. I don’t blame you. Phoenix: It’s not okay. I should’ve stepped away sooner. It won’t happen again, I promise.

Dawn: [nods] Are you still angry? Phoenix: Yes. But mostly, I’m hurt. And confused. Dawn: I’m so sorry. For everything. You have to believe me; I’d take it all back if I could.

Phoenix: I know. I just… I don’t understand why. I’m racking my brain, but I can’t make sense of any of it. Why did you do it? Dawn: I don’t know. I just… when I read the letter, and I learned about his life and his son, it felt important to… I couldn’t just disregard it, throw it away.

Phoenix: Okay. But why contact him? Dawn: I knew you weren’t ready to talk to him, but I hoped one day you would be. I guess it was just a way to leave that door open… just in case. Phoenix: But you knew that’s not what I wanted. It’s never been what I wanted. That’s not going to change.

Dawn: Well maybe it’s not just about you. Phoenix: What?

Dawn: What about Aspen? Doesn’t she deserve the opportunity to know her grandfather and her uncle? Phoenix: Aspen is fine. She’s surrounded by family. Megan and Alex, Atlas and Asher, they all love her, and they’re all here for her, and for us. Dawn: Megan and Alex aren’t her grandparents. Joseph is. And she deserves to know him. I couldn’t just turn my back on that. Why can’t you give him a chance? For her.

Phoenix: Dawn, I’m protecting her. Why would I allow that man into her life? Dawn: I really believe he’s changed.

Phoenix: Why? Because he said so? How many times did he tell my mother that he’d changed, only to show up wasted and belligerent? Hell, even Julian had to cut him off eventually. The man is full of shit. Why would I believe this time is any different? Why would I risk it when I have you and Aspen to think about? I don’t want her anywhere near him. Or your parents for that matter. What if it was them who’d reached out? You think the fact that they’re her “real” grandparents is reason to let those awful people into her life?

Dawn: Well, you don’t have to worry about that because they’d never care enough to bother! At least your dad cares enough to try! Do you know what I would give… [voice cracks] Phoenix: What?

Dawn: All I’ve ever wanted is for them to love me the way they’re supposed to. To care about me and my life, be there for the important moments. But no. Ash’s mom had to step in and do all the things MY mother should’ve been there to do. And I had to put a smile on my face and be happy about it because anything less would be ungrateful. And now what? They’re supposed to step in and pretend to be Aspen’s grandparents because her own don’t give a shit?

Phoenix: Dawn… Dawn: And then the one thing I’ve spent my entire life wishing for shows up out of nowhere in an envelope with your name on it, and you just want to toss it away like it means nothing.

Dawn: [crying] I’m sorry.

[perseabeth]

< What If >

this is a one shot written about @anotheroceanid amazing fic titled When the Horizon Bloom, read it on AO3 you will enjoy it very much and cry very much too - i do not own the idea of the fic and i certainly do not own any character. this is a version of “What if” things happened differently in the fic. enjoy ✨ and i’d love to thank the author again for the amazing fic that i’m becoming obsessed with

****

Percy paced back and forth in her cabin, a growing sense of unease gnawing at her. She felt lost, unsure of whom to turn to, and the lack of dreams last night only heightened her fear. Sleep eluded her; every time she closed her eyes, she was jolted awake by terrifying nightmares.

She had faced Kronos, defeated titans, and held the weight of the world on her shoulders in Atlas’ place. She had endured experiences far worse than any nightmare could conjure, living through horrors that would break most. So why was she so afraid now?

A soft knock on the door pulled Percy from her spiraling thoughts. A blonde-haired girl peeked in. "Seaweed brain?"

Percy lifted her gaze to meet her friend's. Annabeth's gray eyes were filled with concern, as if sensing something was wrong. "You missed breakfast... is everything okay?"

Percy tried to muster a small smile. No, nothing was okay. Morning sickness was wreaking havoc on her, and the nightmares of gods punishing her were relentless. "Yes, I'm okay. I just woke up late," she managed to say, though it was far from the truth.

Annabeth looked at her silently for a minute, her eyes seeming to penetrate Percy’s thoughts. Percy was always amazed at how Annabeth’s eyes mirrored Athena’s, reading a person like an open book. she gulped, hoping Annabeth would believe her words. After a moment, her friend nodded slowly. "Your training starts in 15 minutes. The class is almost ready."

Percy gave a slight smile and nodded. "I'll be there." Yet Annabeth lingered at the door, as if waiting for Percy to confide in her. Realizing she wouldn't get any more information, Annabeth gave a final nod and closed the door behind her.

Percy hated lying to her friends and hiding anything from them. Since the war, they had all promised to be open with each other, to support one another through the healing process. But what could she say? That she was pregnant? Carrying a god’s child? No, not even one—three. Three small lives growing inside her, and she had no idea who to turn to.

She did have an idea. She wanted to turn to everyone around her, but her dreams held her back. Demigod dreams weren’t mere dreams; they were messages, visions, and warnings. And here she was, sleep-deprived because she dreamt of her children being killed while their father watched, emotionless.

The day passed rather quickly, as if Kronos had cursed time to hasten her doom. Everything was normal; life at camp went on as usual. Campers were enjoying themselves, chatting, sneaking drinks, and partying as if there were no worries for tomorrow.

It was ironic how carefree they all seemed. They had won a war and were free, savoring the remnants of their mortal lives. Yet, Percy was once again carrying the weight of the world. It was only a matter of time before someone noticed something strange about her. Then the news would spread like Greek fire, reaching the gods, who would learn of the prophecy. Percy and her children would be doomed.

Unconsciously, she wrapped a hand around her belly, as if trying to shield them from the inevitable. Just then, Percy noticed a pair of lingering gray eyes. "Still not feeling well?" Annabeth's voice pulled her from the ocean of her thoughts. Percy quickly removed her hand from her belly, afraid the gesture might reveal too much. "Yes, don't worry. I think I had too many cookies," Percy muttered, attempting a smile to reassure Annabeth. But she knew her friend wouldn’t buy it. Annabeth nodded silently.

The thing about a daughter of Athena was that she knew when something was wrong. But she waited for you to confide in her before uncovering the truth herself. That’s what Annabeth was offering Percy—time to reveal what was going on before she forced it out of her.

—————

The Olympus council raged with energy—too much energy for Percy’s mortal form to bear. She had been here multiple times before, she reminded herself, but nothing had prepared her for this moment.

She tried to catch her father’s eyes, but he immediately looked away, as if unable to bear the sight of her, ashamed. Her heart sank, and her soul felt like it was shattering. She needed someone to hold onto, but there were too many eyes on her, filled with anger and power. Desperately, she searched for other eyes, gentler eyes that had once looked at her with all the love in the world. Eyes that had held her tight, swearing to protect her from everything.

Percy sought his eyes—sky blue, like a beacon of light amidst the darkness. Her heart yearned for him, remembering how he had looked sitting leisurely on his golden throne, just like the first time she had seen him there. Yet, she couldn’t find those sky-blue eyes. Instead, she was met with golden eyes, burning with rage and a promise of pain.

"Well?" Her uncle's voice thundered through the room, the echo making Percy shrink. She had never been afraid of gods, never. She would have kicked the door of Olympus open and marched in like the hero she was. But today wasn’t about her. It wasn’t about harming her. It was about harming those precious to her—her children, hidden within her belly, shielded from the room's volatile energy.

"Apollo, what do you say about this, since you are, after all, the father?" Zeus’ voice was like thunder, each word more terrifying than the last. His tone dripped with sneer, as if the whole situation was beneath him.

Percy’s eyes remained on her lover, whose gaze had become a foreign land. Apollo did not speak; he just stared at her, as if silently threatening her, blaming her for their predicament. Then, with a cold, emotionless voice, he sealed her doom. "I will have none of this," he stated, turning his gaze back to his father. "They might be mine, but I will not claim them, and they will face the wrath of the gods like anyone else who dares to overstep their position."

Fog and mist clouded Percy’s vision. Tears welled up, blurring her sight. Perhaps her tears were merciful, blocking his face from her so she wouldn’t remember him like this—so emotionless, so heartless, promising punishment. This was the true Apollo, the one she had read about in books, the one who punished Cassandra and skinned a satyr alive. This wasn’t her Apollo. This wasn’t the gentle touch of the sun that had held her warmly. This voice wasn’t the sweet, melodic one that had whispered love to her. These eyes weren’t the beautiful ones she had always admired.

Zeus’ voice cut through the room again, sharp and authoritative. "Then the children should be punished and thrown into Tartarus, and they will take with them anyone who stands in the way." Zeus looked at her, a silent warning in his eyes—'You will go with them if you object.' He continued, "All in favor?"

Percy looked around in horror, her gaze landing on her father, pleading silently for mercy. But all she got in return was, "I agree."

All hands were raised, not one sparing her or her children. Cold, merciless eyes looked upon her, not with pity but with disgust, as if she had committed an unforgivable sin.

Percy’s tears could no longer be held back. She fell to her knees, perhaps because her legs could no longer support her, or perhaps because she wanted to beg. She didn't know. All she knew was that she was crying, her sobs echoing throughout the room, her trembling voice barely holding together.

"Please don’t. Please, please. I’m begging you. Please don’t harm them. Please. I’ll take them away. I’ll raise them far from here, but please don’t harm them."

She wasn’t sure if she was making any sense, wasn’t sure what she was even begging for. All she knew was that her heart was shattering, her soul was dying. She felt an immense, unbearable pain, and she was screaming.

——

Percy jolted awake, the room cloaked in darkness, but the light of the fountain was enough for her to recognize her surroundings. She was in her cabin. Safe and sound. She was safe, and her children were safe.

Tears filled her sea-green eyes once more, her heart shattering anew. For the first time, her cabin, her mini-heaven, felt suffocating. The events of her dream rushed back to her, and Percy could no longer hold back her tears. She needed to get out, needed to breathe. Air was scarce in the cabin, and she needed more.

With shaky legs, she stood and rushed to the door, trying to find air, trying to calm her sobs, but she couldn’t. She burst through the door and into the night. She didn’t remember where she walked or where her legs carried her. All she knew was that she found herself in the middle of a path lined with trees, the only light guiding her being the moon’s gentle glow.

She tried to control her sobs, tried to take deep breaths to calm herself. She was safe. They were safe, she reminded herself.

A sudden movement behind her froze the blood in her veins. She sensed him—felt his presence. His energy was always so warm, so peaceful, that she could always feel him. But this time, this peaceful energy brought her only fear. She didn’t dare look behind her, didn’t dare see if those eyes had turned golden again. She didn’t dare to hear that cold, merciless voice. So Percy stood there, wrapping her arms around herself, protecting herself, protecting them from the coldness she had just begun to feel.

"My love?" His gentle voice was like a sweet whisper, so lovely and filled with emotion. It carried love and concern, just as she was used to, before her nightmares.

"Percy, my love, why are you here?" he asked again, his voice almost a whisper, as if afraid of startling her. That’s when she broke down again. Hearing his voice like that only reminded her of her nightmare, her visions, and what his voice might sound like when all was exposed.

Percy didn't remember how it happened, but she found herself enveloped in warm arms. She remembered his gentle voice whispering sweet nothings in her ear as he held her, shielding her from the coldness of the night. It was ironic how the person she feared was the one giving her peace and comfort now, the only one capable of calming her tears. She sensed the fear and worry in his voice as he held her, felt his concern through the gentle touch of his hand soothing her hair.

If only he knew what he would become in the future...

She stayed there for what felt like minutes, maybe hours. She didn't even realize when he had picked her up and led her to a rock, where he sat with her wrapped in his arms, still caressing her hair and calming her down. She didn’t dare speak or look at him, afraid her eyes and voice would betray her

After what seemed like forever, she finally dared to look at him, to meet his gaze. He allowed her to lift her head, and she saw his eyes—beautiful, clear sky-blue even under the moonlight. His eyes were filled with love and gentleness, just as she remembered, now mingled with concern. Percy’s sea-green eyes locked with his, afraid that if she looked away, his eyes would turn to gold again. Her lover didn’t speak, only looked at her, always considerate, always patient, waiting for her to find peace before finding her voice.

“What’s wrong, love?” he muttered, his voice carrying the gentleness of the world. He brushed away the hair blocking her face, soothing her racing heart. He waited for an answer, but she shook her head, still unable to find her voice.

She felt terrible lying to him; she couldn’t look into his eyes and deceive him, so she averted her gaze, studying her surroundings. Only now did she notice they were in the middle of the forest. Suddenly, a warm hand gently held her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes again. “Percy… what’s wrong?”

She knew this tone—the tone of demanding answers, answers he would get no matter how long he has to keep her wrapped in his arms. A voice inside her head, a tiny voice, told her she could trust him, find peace in him, that he would protect her as he promised. But that voice was immediately drowned by the ocean of nightmares that filled her nights.

Percy shook her head again, trying to find her voice, now raspy from screaming and crying. “J-just a nightmare,” she muttered, still unable to look away as he gently fixed her chin with his warm fingers, holding her gaze.

Apollo studied her for a few minutes before gently stroking her hair again with his other hand. “A nightmare that made you run to the woods in the middle of the night?” he asked, still gentle and patient.

Percy simply nodded and muttered, “A bad nightmare.”

His gaze never left hers, studying her while his hands continued to soothe her. “What was it about?”

Percy gulped. She knew he would ask. He was always curious about every detail of her life, always there listening to her nightmares. He wouldn’t let this one go.

She looked at him, still holding his gaze, as if trying to show him she was being honest. “About the war.”

Apollo simply nodded before Percy felt the gentle touch of his lips on her forehead, kissing away her worries. His warmth spread throughout her body, comforting her, enveloping her in peace. For a fleeting moment, Percy wanted to believe that all was perfect in the world.

He whispered, his lips still on her forehead, "My love, have I ever told you how terrible of a liar you are?"

Percy's heart sank as nightmares rushed back to her—the memory of his cold voice, his golden angry eyes, and his indifferent gaze. She could feel her heartbeat in her hands, only for him to look at her again, his beautiful blue eyes meeting hers, guiding her through the darkness.

His eyes held nothing but pure gentleness, a hint of teasing, and a lot of love. His fingers started brushing her cheeks gently as he spoke again, his voice as gentle as a feather, "You are a terrible liar, and I love that you try to lie to the god of truth." He kissed her nose affectionately.

Speechless and unsure of what to say or how to react, Percy was overwhelmed. her silence didn’t seem to bother him as he continued to brush her cheeks and pepper her face with sweet, gentle kisses. "Now tell me, what’s wrong?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern and love.

Percy couldn’t do anything but shake her head as she attempted to free herself from his embrace, only to find him holding her tighter. He remained silent, patient, silently facing their battle as she struggled against him.

She heard him sigh, and for a split second, fear gripped her—fear of him running out of patience, fear of meeting those golden eyes again. But the more she protested, the gentler his hold became. She looked into his eyes again, his lips curving into a small smile. “You aren’t going anywhere, my love, until you tell me,” he stated, his voice filled with warmth.

She shook her head as silent tears started rolling down her cheeks. “I-I can’t,” she whispered.

He shook his head, as if her answer wasn’t what he was seeking, before kissing her tears away, wiping them away with his lips. “Yes, you can, and you will, Percy,” he sighed before continuing. “I know you well enough to know that nothing, absolutely nothing, could make you run into the middle of the night like that unless it was something terrifying.” He kissed her forehead again, as if aware of the calming effect his gentle kisses had on her. And he wasn’t wrong. The more he did it, the more she felt at peace in his arms, despite all the nightmares.

He gently continued, still holding her gaze. “You looked at our dear grandfather eye-to-eye and stood your ground. I know my Percy. Nothing can scare her. So tell me, my love.”

She wanted to, oh how she wanted to tell him everything, to spill everything and hold him close. But she knew she couldn’t. She knew how he would react, and she knew what they would face.

Percy shook her head again, tears streaming down her face as she forcefully freed herself from his grasp. She couldn’t bear to look at his hurt expression, the pain in his eyes as she distanced herself from him, as if she were afraid of him. And who could she lie to? She was afraid of him.

She kept shaking her head, trying to make him understand. She didn’t want to hurt him, but he had to understand. She struggled to find her voice again. "I can’t, I can’t, I can’t!" she repeated, tears flowing freely. The night’s coldness enveloped her once more, while her body begged her to return to the warmth of his arms. Percy tried to look at him, hoping he would spare her from explaining anything, but she was once again met with his beautiful blue eyes, tinged with pain and uncertainty. His voice broke her, destroying all the self-will she had been trying to gather, as he whispered, "Don’t you trust me?"

She does! She wanted to scream at him that she does, that he was foolish to even doubt it. But does she? Percy questioned herself as she looked at him again. does she trust him? If she did, she wouldn’t feel afraid of him. If she did, she wouldn’t believe he would harm her or their children.

The longer she took to answer, the more pain showed in his eyes as his gaze locked onto hers. Then he spoke again, almost in a whisper, his voice showing hints of pain. "What did I do?"

Silence enveloped them, the night alive with the symphony of the forest. The rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze, the distant hoot of an owl, and the occasional chirping of crickets provided a backdrop to their conversation, amplifying the tension between them.

She kept looking at him, observing how he tried his best to understand what he had done wrong. Knowing him, he was probably going through a mental list of things he thought he might have done.

But how could she tell him?

“You didn’t do anything,” she finally said, her voice quivering.

“Then why?” he pressed.

“Why what?”

“Why are you looking at me like you aren’t sure whether you are safe with me or not?” he asked, his eyes still fixed on her, waiting for any reaction.

Percy couldn’t handle this anymore. She couldn’t tell him anything, yet she couldn’t not tell him anything. He stood there, hurt, thinking she didn’t trust him, yet he was so far from the truth.

Apollo slowly stood and stepped a little closer to her. Blame it on her nightmare or her lack of sleep, but she couldn’t help but take a step backward, earning her a quizzical look from him.

“St-stay away,” she muttered, hoping to stop him. She realized too late that her words had indeed stopped him, but not in the way she wished, as he stood frozen, looking at her with pained eyes. For the first time in her life, Percy witnessed fear in Apollo’s eyes.

She had hurt him, deeply. But who could blame her? If anyone with a healthy mind saw these visions every day, they would react the same way.

She tried to speak again, hoping to remove that pained look from his face. “I-I didn’t mean it that—“ But before she could finish, he spoke again.

“You are scared of me… What did I do?”

That’s when Percy broke down again. Maybe it was hormones, maybe it was nightmares, maybe it was a terrible mix of both, but she couldn’t bear to see that look on his face. She started sobbing, holding her face in her palms. She felt him hesitate, unsure whether to step closer or stay where he was, knowing she was scared.

Percy kept sobbing as she muttered, "It’s not you... You will harm us... In the future, you will harm us... I can’t let that happen... They don’t deserve this!"

Apollo’s voice cut through her sobbing state as he simply questioned, “Us? They?”

Here’s a few things about Percy: sometimes words don’t go through her brain before speaking them out, which has gotten her into trouble with gods, titans, and monsters alike. When she is in distress, this tendency becomes even worse, and following order becomes harder for her. And in that special moment, Percy was in her most vulnerable state as she couldn’t control her sobs. Gaea had warned her to be careful with every word she says, but it’s not Percy’s fault that Gaea trusted her with such a mission. And it was too late when Percy realized what she had done as she looked at her confused lover. It was too late to withdraw her words; her tears still blurred her vision as he stood in front of her. “I-I mean us, me and you,” she stammered.

Apollo shook his head, didn’t he just tell her how terrible of a liar she is? “You just said ‘they’? Who are they, Percy?”

She wanted to run, to escape now, never look back because she just realized that she had messed up everything. Her tears were uncontrollable at this point, but she couldn’t let herself drown in them. She needed to stay awake to face him, but with what? What could she say?

In a blink of an eye, she felt warm palms cupping her cheeks, caressing them softly as his eyes poured into hers. “Who are you talking about?” he whispered gently, as if he was aware that whatever topic they were approaching was something destroying her.

Was it worth lying at this moment? Percy questioned herself. Maybe Gaea had promised to save her from all, but was it a real solution? Was she able to run from the twelve Olympian gods forever? Was she really able to postpone whatever destiny her children might face? She is a child of prophecy, and she knows how hard it is to escape prophecies. Was any of it really worth it?

She could feel a voice in her head telling her to confide in him, and another screaming and shouting at her, telling her that these nightmares would come true, and she was only making them come quicker. She could feel invisible hands holding her throat, preventing her from talking, a pressure almost preventing her from breathing. But one thing, one small thing, was holding her like an archer holding a ship amidst a dark storm: his eyes. Those gentle eyes that looked at her with all the love and concern possible. Eyes promising her that he would protect her no matter what. And in that second, she trusted those eyes, for they had never broken a promise.

“Our children,” she whispered, maybe even afraid that he would hear. But she knew that he heard, because the frozen state he was in proved that he did, in fact, hear.

His frozen state only fed her fears more; his eyes never left hers, but he was oddly silent, and that didn’t help her at all in this situation. She regretted blurting it out; she regretted not controlling herself, and she was about to regret confiding in his eyes when the silence was broken with his voice.

“You are—” he began, but couldn’t finish. He waited for her to finish, waited for her to spill the words so she could confirm them.

Tears rolled from Percy’s eyes again. That was it, that was the moment she had dreaded. But when was she a coward running away? Never, and she never would. Percy nodded, still holding his gaze, as she finished his own sentence. “—pregnant.”

And again, frozen, he was back again to that state where his eyes widened, looking at her, searching her eyes for any hint of a lie. She had to break this silence; she had to speak. She led armies, so she could lead a conversation, even with tears rolling down her eyes.

“triplet.. But there’s a prophecy… Dangerous… Gods will be angry… You will be angry… A lot of danger… Tartarus… I need to prote—” But before she managed to finish her incoherent speech, which she was sure made no sense, she felt warm lips on hers.

It was a gentle kiss, soft and tender, like a feather brushing against her lips. It was a kiss filled with happiness, reassurance and love, a silent promise. In that moment, all her fears melted away, replaced by a sense of peace and warmth. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, letting herself be enveloped by his love.

Maybe she wished to believe that it was a normal pregnancy announcement; maybe his kiss did make her feel like that. And for moments, she wanted to believe that. He broke the kiss only to replace it with another tender kiss, and another, and another.

She tried to whisper between kisses, reminding him of their situation: “Prophecy.” But it only gained her an inaudible mumble as he kissed her one last time. Maybe he didn’t hear her incoherent speech; maybe he was also wishing to live in his own world for a few minutes.

He looked at her again, and if she thought that she already found his most beautiful gaze, she was wrong. Because at this moment, there she found the most beautiful gaze. He looked at her with eyes full of love, happiness, pure happiness he barely showed, besides when she confessed her love for the first time. But now, it was a new type of happiness, a new type of hope. His hands never left her cheeks as he kept caressing them with even more tenderness. He whispered, “I love you... so much,” before kissing her again softly and mumbling, “Thank you.”

She hated to break that moment for them; she hated to ruin this happiness. But she had to. She had to tell him the full truth since he already knew the worst part of it. “Prophecy,” she mumbled again. That’s when she caught his attention, and he spoke, “What prophecy are you talking about my love ? I heard of nothing.”

She took a deep breath before she spilled everything to him, from the moment she discovered her pregnancy to the prophecy, to the nightmares, and even Gaea's secret mission in 'helping her'. She could feel Gaea’s rage; don’t ask her how, but she could feel it.

Only after saying everything did she finally dare to look at Apollo, who was now holding her waist with his brows knotted in confusion. He was silent for a few minutes, her anxiety at its peak as she waited for any word from him, anything.

Maybe after telling him everything, he would agree with her plan with Gaea? Maybe he would agree with how dangerous her children are? Maybe he would say that the prophecy could be wrong? She didn’t know. But she did know one thing: his face showed pure curiosity and not anger.

After what seemed like hours, he finally spoke softly, "No." She looked at him in confusion.

"No..." he repeated again, Percy still not understanding what he was trying to say, when he cupped her cheeks and forced her to look at him. "I don’t care what this prophecy says. I’ll have a talk with Rachel for hiding this. But I don’t care what it means."

Percy whispered, afraid of raising her voice, "You are the god of prophecy, you can't say that."

He shook his head, his blue eyes still filled with determination. "If me being the god of prophecy means I’ll let harm come to my children, then I’ll let Delphi crumble to pieces."

"No harm will come to them. I will not allow any harm to come to them, and I don’t care if the price to pay was Olympus itself," Percy tried to shake her head, as if she was warning him that he was saying nonsense, but he fixed her face and made her look at him. "Nothing, and absolutely nothing, will harm you or our children, love," he stated. "I swear it on the River Styx." A sudden thunder broke the silence of the forest.

An oath... he just made an oath while holding her as if he didn’t just make the most sacred oath. Percy tried to reason with him, "But Gaea—"

Apollo shook his head again. "I’ll not let anyone take care of you. I don’t trust anyone with you, and especially not a primordial goddess that was supposed to be sleeping."

"But Olympus—"

"I’ll deal with them. Leave them to me."

"But—" She tried to protest when his lips found hers again in a gentle kiss, silencing her. "Stop with buts. Nothing will happen, and you have the word of a god. I will never allow anything to happen to you... all of you." That’s when his eyes were suddenly filled with happiness and gentleness again. He suddenly grabbed her and pulled her into a tight hug, burying his nose in the crook of her neck.

As he mumbled in her neck, in a soft, gentle tone, "Gods, Percy..." and "Thank you," she didn’t understand what he was thankful for, but she was sure of one thing: for the first time in weeks, she felt a huge weight lift off her shoulders, just like when Atlas took the weight of the Earth from her again. Yet this time, she felt utter peace. Complete peace.

For the first time in weeks, she felt her heart filled with happiness. She was in his arms, the arms of the one who made a sacred oath to protect her and her children. Not just her, but also them. And maybe, just maybe, it was worth it.

It was worth having this nightmare so she could find him here tonight. Maybe the Fates really took pity on her... just maybe, there is hope.

[beautifulchris]

obsessed

pairing: dancer!lee minho x videographer!gn!reader

summary: minho was the most perfect guy you had the privilege of encountering—and working with. without even trying—or meaning to—, he got you wrapped around his fingers

genres: fluff, angst, strangers to lovers to exes!au, colleagues!au, first person pov!!

wc: 4,4k

tw: obsession, toxic relationship, swearing (in lyrics only, who would've thought), violence, injuries, mention of blood

notes: heyyy! this fic is part of my collection of fics! indented are the lyrics, banner made by me on canva. andddd i'd appreaciate it greatly if you could tell me what you thought about it!! happy reading!

listen to the song for a more immersive experience: spotify link | youtube link

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @kwritersworld @whipped-kpop-creators @straykidsland

permanent tag list: @soobin-chois @exfolitae @linos-catnip @prettymiye0n (tell me if you want to be added/removed)

stray kids tag list: @raethethey

Lee Minho (1998).

Have you seen this man?

Perfect skin, heart face shape, a sharp nose, wide cheekbones, cat-like eyes, long eyelashes and pretty, pouty lips.

The moment I laid eyes on him, I knew it was over. He was just so attractive, always walking like he owned the place, and, without realizing it, I became infatuated with him.

I was a newbie videographer in this dancing company called Twinkle Toes. Yes, I did apply there because of its name, being an ATLA fan and all. Anyway, Minho was the best dancer they had.

The obsession started when I first saw him dance. His technique and control were perfect, I could clearly see why he was a professional dancer. All the fluid and effortlessly looking movements he made gave me goosebumps every time I was behind the camera. Or anywhere inside the room, really.

I approached him first. Complimented him on his dancing, which seemed to please him. I kept being supportive and throwing seductive glances his way every now and then. I became hungry for his attention.

Oh, my Lord, never met someone like you before Think I'm kinda going overboard Now I'm obsessed, how can somebody be so perfect? Boy, you really got me by the neck Whatever you want, you just gotta ask

I made no secret of my admiration. Soon, everybody knew but I couldn’t care less.

“You’re so strong, Minho,” I mused from behind the camera. “Thanks to your efforts, the video will come out perfectly.”

He failed to suppress a smile, yet dismissed the compliment with a vague movement of his hand. “It’s a team effort.”

Of course, I knew that. Yeah. The fourteen other dancers were good, but none of them were in the same league as Minho. He was above everyone in this company.

I was usually right.

After filming ended, I took my stuff—camera, tripod, laptop—and walked towards my designated studio where I could work on editing. I wasn’t totally installed when someone knocked on the door. It was so faint I thought I’d dreamed it, until they knocked again.

I opened the door, revealing a shy looking Minho, who didn’t seem to be able to meet my eyes. I found it adorable.

“Yes?”

“Uh, I… Can I come in?”

Now, why would he even want to come inside? Was my flirting so powerful that he already wanted to spend more time with me? I wasn’t one to complain about that.

“Sure,” I said, taking a step back and closing the door behind him.

“So that’s what your studio looks like,” he commented, looking around.

It was a small room with a large desk filled with everything I needed to do my job. The stuff I had with me in the danceroom plus a computer, lenses, microphones, cables, memory cards… Everything was perfectly organized. Bigger equipment—camera bags, studio light, reflectors, tripods—were tidied next to the desk. A gaming chair was in front of it, and on the other side was a two-seater sofa.

“Do you mind if I stay with you while you work?”

I smiled internally. It was so easy.

“No, of course. Are you done for the day?”

“Yeah, finally. Thanks.”

“What for?”

“For letting me stay with you.”

SCREAMING. PUNCHING THE WALL. I could’ve smacked his arm right now for saying this so casually. Sure enough, I didn’t. Instead, I motioned for him to sit on the sofa while I placed my laptop on the desk before opening it.

I could tell I was professional with how well I handled the situation I was in. I kept my desire to turn around and stare at him buried inside me as I edited the video. I had a week to finalize it for an upcoming dancing contest. I was determined to show the dancers’ best side through the video. I also tried not to show Minho too much, even though he was around 20% more present than the rest. It wasn’t my fault the videos he was in were better.

Oh, well. It was common knowledge he was our best hope at winning.

It was getting late, and I was feeling hungry. I saved my progress, switched off the computers and turned around. I’d imagined Minho to be fast asleep, as my job could be found boring from the outside. To my surprise, he was looking straight at me.

“Are you OK?” I asked, conscious he had been waiting for a long time.

See, I checked the time before closing my laptop. I had been working for a bit more than two hours.

He nodded. “Are you, though? Don’t you feel sore?”

Now that he mentioned it, I couldn’t feel my butt anymore. A common occurrence in this field. I got up, stretched arms, back, legs and unintentionally yawned.

“Do you want to get dinner?”

He seemed nervous all of a sudden. Ah, if I could make him mine right now…

“Only if you pay.”

“Deal.”

Ten minutes later, we were walking side-by-side toward a little restaurant owned by a strict-looking yet lovely grandma near our workplace. We’d eaten there before, with our coworkers.

As a typical small-business Korean restaurant, the room was approximately ten times bigger than my studio. Twelve four-seater tables were placed around the room at a relatively safe distance from each other. On every one of them were a wooden cutlery holder for four, and a matching little box full of thin napkins. The walnut-colored counter was on the far end of the room, and the hole that was supposed to be a door behind it led to the kitchen. The only thing giving a bit of privacy to the cook were white lace curtains attached to each side of the… door-shaped hole. On the left side of the room, a TV screen and posters—with pictures—of the menu were displayed on the wall. While on the right side, as well as a bathroom door, were decorations and an ‘appreciation wall’ with a lot of little notes and doodles from customers.

I wanted to sit next to it. If we ran out of things to say, we could always talk about that.

Grandma greeted us with a smile when she saw us, showing us to a table on the opposite side. “Hello grandma, can we actually sit at that one? It’s easier to watch TV there.”

Of course, I had no intention to watch TV, but no one needed to know that.

“Sure, my child, go sit. I’ll be right there.”

Thanking her, we sat right next to the rating wall.

There was one other customer closest to the counter. A regular, by the looks of it. Grandma went to the kitchen and came back with a steaming dish. She delicately put it down in front of the man before providing us with the menus. He thanked her and resumed his reading of a journal. Which I couldn’t identify because I don’t read journals.

Minho and I looked at the menu like we had no idea what to order. While I already knew what his favorite dish was, I opted for something I hadn’t tried before. You see, I like to try everything on the menu. It was a habit in restaurants I often went to. Of course, if it were to be a one-time restaurant, I would order the food that makes me salivate the most. Minho preferred savory foods. The tastier, the better.

He rapidly scanned the plastified paper on the table before looking up at me. “I’ve chosen. You?”

I straightened up, flashing my signature grin, and nodded once. “Same. Any drinks?”

“Soju?”

“Sure.”

Three young people entered the place. Grandma placed them on the left side of the room and came to us. “What would you like, my children?”

“Bulgogi bibimbap for me, please.”

“Jajangmyeon and a bottle of soju, please,” Minho ordered, taking the menu from me and giving them both back to grandma with a sweet smile.

She smiled like a lovely grandma would—contently with a hint of nostalgia.

We never got to speak about the appreciation wall nor did I once glanced at the TV, because we talked a lot and there were few moments of silence.

After that dinner, we spent a lot of time together outside the company. I believed he enjoyed my presence as much as I savored his. We flirted, went on dates every now and then, and recently started dating.

Then, around two months after our first day together, a new, talented dancer entered the company. Her body had beautiful curves. She had long, black silky hair, and toned abs. It didn’t help that she was gorgeous, social, and easygoing.

In just a few days, she had befriended the whole building. It felt like she had always been there. To my dismay, even Minho seemed to like her.

“What do you think of Soojin?” I asked as casually as manageable, considering I was eager to get an answer.

“She’s cool.” Minho shrugged, looking up at the blue sky. “And a good dancer. Why do you ask?”

How he could manage to look so ethereal under the sunlight yet give me such a soft glance was beyond my understanding. He got a hold on me, that was for sure.

“I agree, she’s good. You might have to share your spotlight in the next competitions and projects.”

He smirked. “Was about time. It’s been lonely up there.”

I knew he was joking. He never considered himself as above his colleagues. I frowned for another reason. I couldn’t ignore the thought from overwhelming me. Was I not enough for him? Was I just a pastime? I wasn’t a dancer. Was it a dealbreaker for him? 

Minho’s gentle glance became a concerned stare as he stopped in his tracks. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you like me?”

He opened his mouth, but I couldn’t wait for his response.

“Am I good enough? Do you like Soojin more? Do you want to date her? Are you just playing with me?”

Because I would still be wrapped around your finger either way.

“Hey, breathe, babe. I’m here, I’m with you.”

I did as told, and my next words came out as a whisper.

“Are you though?”

“Where is all this coming from? Why would I be interested in Soojin?”

“She’s gorgeous, talented, and a sweetheart. Who wouldn’t like her?”

He smiled softly, taking my hand in his. “Is this your way of telling me you’re interested in her?”

“I’m serious.”

“You have nothing to worry about. I like you.”

I wanted to believe him, but I couldn’t get rid of the voices.

Soojin and Minho were the jewels of the company. Meaning they had way more screen time—which was my job—and training sessions together—which was their job. I had to stand behind my camera for hours while watching them dance together. Helplessly watching their bodies touch and their breaths tangle. The sensual moves made me want to break something.

Jealousy stirred up inside me, and I think it showed, because several colleagues around the room sent me looks of pity and sorry.

I knew it was just the job for Minho, but I couldn’t help it. It was beyond my control. Ever since the choreographers created this dance, I have been vile to Minho. Exposing my jealousy to him in private.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I hate hurting you. Really. However, I can’t simply stop dancing. It’s my dream life.”

“I’m not asking you to stop doing what you love, I’m asking you to stop doing it with her!” I snapped.

“Doing that will get me fired, you know that. I told you I picture you whenever I’m dancing with her. Is it not enough?”

He was pleading, but I could sense he was tired and frustrated.

“I like you, not Soojin. I need you to understand that.”

“You say that now,” I said in a low voice, “but I see the way she looks at you.” My voice broke, and I looked away.

Minho shook his head. “Please, stop. I’m exhausted. I’m dating you, aren’t I? What more do you need to be satisfied?”

It stinged. The worst part was he didn’t scream. His voice was stern and accusing. No words would leave my lips. He took my silence as a cue to leave the toxic environment I created. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to stay away.

But I could blame someone else.

I tried to film Soojin in her less good angle, but it felt like she was flawless under any angle. It was frustrating, not even being able to compromise her while doing my job.

Minho, being smart and all, realized what I was trying to do while Soojin was doing a solo dance. His eyes were glued to me the whole time. He grabbed me by the arm the minute I finished for the day and brought all my stuff back to my studio. He made me turn around to face him.

“What did you do back there?”

I was hurt by his suspicion, even though he was right. I stood my ground and lied through my teeth. “I didn’t do anything.”

He sighed in exasperation and let go of me. “Look, I won’t say I know you because clearly, as much as I thought I did, I actually don’t. But I know you did something.” His face softened, but his lips stayed pressed in a thin line. “Please, help me understand. Why would you resent Soojin so much you’re willing to risk your job? What do I ignore?”

I was angry. Why would he defend her if nothing was happening between the two?

“Why do you care so much, Minho? Who is she to you?”

He stepped back, blinking a few times. “This again? I don’t recognize you anymore, Y/N. I thought I knew you. Since Soojin joined our crew, you’ve changed. I believe I didn’t give you any reason to be jealous of her, excluding my job. Then again, I know how to separate professional and personal matters. I chose not to where you’re concerned because I liked you. But now, I don’t think I want to do this any longer. It’s draining me, and I lost my will to fight for us.”

Wait. What?

“Are you breaking up with me? Is that it?” I sounded frantic—and I was. All I understood from his tirade was that he was leaving me, probably for her. This bitch. She dared steal my boyfriend.

“All these past weeks fighting made me reconsider our relationship. I’m sorry, Y/N. I like you, but I can’t be with you.”

He silently stared at me for a moment, hurt and determination visible on his face, before turning heels and heading out.

My legs gave out. Minho broke up with me. I had no intention to accept this. It was all this woman’s fault. She had bewitched him, I was sure of it.

When I ran into Minho the next day, he avoided looking me in the eyes. Everybody could see something was wrong. They could even sense it, as the tension was thick in the air.

“Is something wrong?” Soojin asked as she entered the room. She looked around the room and offered me a sweet and innocent smile.

I wanted to lunge at her. It took everything in me to stand still.

“Let’s get started,” the director said as soon as his left foot touched the floor. He clapped his hands, getting everyone’s attention. He stopped at the center of the room. “Today we’re going to film a two-minute promotional video for our project. I count on you, Y/N, to make this video as appealing as all the other ones you made until now.” He winked at me. “Dancers, I expect you to be in good shape. I need you to accentuate your moves.” This time, he winked at Minho and Soojin.

I was close to rip my hair out.

We did as told. While the dancers gave their all in their dancing, I moved around them with my camera to capture their moves from different angles, creating a nice flow. Nowadays, videographers would use a gimbal to provide support and stabilization, but my camescope and feet were all I needed. This type of work called for a more natural flow, which could only be done without any device.

I knew how to be professional, too, but hated every second I spent filming the top dancers sensually touching each other’s bodies, especially from this close. The looks they gave one another, were they really only professional? I wasn’t sure Minho had ever looked at me like he was staring at Soojin at this moment.

I decided to put aside my anger for the sake of my job, and made the best promotional video yet. Not that I would ever admit it, but their chemistry was undeniable and greatly increased the quality of the video.

Slowly, but surely, I watched Minho and Soojin grow closer. I tried multiple times to reconnect with him to prevent the inevitable, but he was unyielding. He wouldn’t let me touch him and refused to be in a room alone with me. I found his reactions a bit over the top and insulting. But, even worse, he seemed to be protective of Soojin, as if he was scared I would hurt her if he let her out of his sight.

I would, but it was still vexing.

If you go and get yourself somebody new I don't know what the hell I'd do But if I found out, I will go and turn up at her house Break a nail and rip her hair right out Huh, and I hope you like that I'm crazy like that

Life went on, Minho still got me by the neck unbeknownst to him, and I was still wary of Soojin. A month had passed and a new project started.

“This time, crew, the theme is love. I want to feel it, alright? Do whatever it takes. I’m not worried though, because I believe in you all.”

The little speech the director gave ended up with a round of applause and a whistle from several of the dancers. The choreographers were sending each other smirks, as if they were waiting for this moment. I, obviously, loathed the idea. I had barely managed to contain myself this past month. That was going to be torture.

I was right.

The first official practice for the dance, a week after the announcement, I was behind the camera. If I thought they were close during the past month, I was mistaken. For the most part, their bodies were colliding with each other in a way that made the young managers embarrassed. My blood boiled. If there weren’t all these people around, I would’ve ripped Soojin’s hair out already.

When the song ended, their faces were mere millimeters from one another. They closed the gap between their mouths. I heard a few gasps from the crowd. My eyes lost focus. The fury building inside me sent a throbbing pain in my head. I left the room in a hurry before I could regret my actions. The last thing I saw in the long mirrors were their lips connected in a heated kiss.

I wanted to throw up. I ran to the restroom and sat on the ground in one of the cabins. I touched my cheeks with the back of my hands to check my temperature and realized I was crying. I couldn’t possibly be sad, could I? I stayed seated for what felt like hours, developing a plan to get revenge on Soojin. I was not going to let her go unscathed after what she had done.

The pain eventually subsided. Rage was all that was left in me. I was determined to make the bitch pay. I checked myself in the mirror, relieved to see there was no trace of me crying, and nodded to myself to give me courage. I came back to the dance room like nothing happened. Everybody stopped moving and watched me walk to my camera.

“Sorry, I had an emergency,” I told no one in particular, shooting an apologetic smile around the room. “Please, continue.”

I changed a few parameters on the camera and the room came back to life.

I was one of the first ones to leave the room. I stored my stuff in their respective places. Minho was waiting for me when I walked out of my studio.

“Y/N, I’m sorry—-It just happened—”

I scoffed. “Whatever.”

I'll do anything for you, boy, anything Yeah, I'll do anything, anything for you Yeah, I'll do crazy shit And I'll get away with it Boy, I'll do anything, anything for you

I raced to my car and waited there until Soojin entered her own car. I watched Minho go to her window and talk to her when she rolled it down. She nodded and smiled at him. Sickening. He went to his own car and I followed Soojin when she exited the parking lot. I stayed at a safe distance, but what if Minho knew what I had in mind and warned her?

I shook my head. It didn’t matter. She drove around fifteen minutes and parked in front of what looked like a family house. Was it her own place or did she come to her parents thinking I wouldn’t dare touch her there?

I smiled conspiratorially. None of them really knew me. I parked right behind her and stormed out of my car. I stopped at her window like Minho had done earlier and waited for her to roll it down. She stared at me with fear in her eyes and gulped.

I put on a fake smile and my sweetest voice. “Come on out, Soojin, don’t be scared.”

She slowly reached for the handle and opened the door.

“Look, I’m sor—”

I grabbed her by the neck and threw her on the asphalt. She grunted and rolled over. I pulled her hair up and ignored her faint struggle, whispering in her ear. “You really thought you could steal my boyfriend from me and get away with it?” I let out a nasty laugh.

She shuddered, tears welling up in her eyes. “You’re not together anymore,” she cried. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

“You’re too cute. I guess that’s your advantage.”

I pulled her hair a little higher and balled my other hand into a fist. I moved my arm back to gain momentum, but never got to use it. Minho shouted my name from his car, parked right behind mine. I let go of Soojin and watched him dash towards us.

“What’s happening?”

He kneeled next to her, checking her face and scratched arms. She cried, burying her face in his chest and wrapping her arms around his stomach. I huffed and folded my arms over my chest. The second she calmed down, Minho got up and faced me. He frowned.

“What did you do?” His tone was accusing. It angered me.

“Are you for real? How could you get over me that easily? Was I nothing to you?”

“Y/N,” he warned, pinching his nose bridge. Then he gave me a firm stare. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I never meant to. I just assumed you got over it the way I did.” His voice matched the look on his face.

Got over it? Oh, boy.

“I guess I loved you more than you ever did me.”

His surprised expression made no sense to me. He did not comment on it. Instead, he reached for Soojin’s hand and helped her up. “I’ll get you home,” he said softly.

He used to talk to me like that. Take care of me like that. My blood boiled but I just watched, feeling abandoned, as they walked away from me.

When he returned, a few minutes later, I was waiting, my back pressed against the driver’s side door of my car. “What was that about?” he inquired, stopping around three meters away from me, arms crossed over his chest.

“I’ll do anything for you, Minho. Anything. And I got angry at the way she snatched you from me.”

He stepped back, dropping his arms at his sides. “What do you mean, anything?”

“Literally anything.”

“But, Y/N, we broke up. You don’t have to. Besides, she didn’t snatch me, I fell for her.” My heart hurt. Did he really stop loving me that easily? “I’m sorry. Really, I am. I can’t undone our history, nor can I control my feelings.”

“You would undone our history if you could?” That was what hurt the most, I think. That, right there. He regretted being with me.

“No, but what you did today… I’m not sure I can forgive you. You scared Soojin, you scared me. If I knew you would be like this, I—”

“Don’t finish that sentence, please.”

Minho sighed. “I enjoyed being with you, Y/N, honestly. However, that was too much. I won’t ask you to quit your job, but can you please, leave Soojin and I alone? I feel like a dick asking you, especially since you’ll have to watch us a lot, and I also don’t want to quit this amazing company.”

“I’ll do it,” I breathed. A single tear ran down my face. “I’ll quit. I can’t stand by and watch you both all lovey-dovey. And I don’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

It was my fault. I planted the seed of desire in Minho’s head, and my jealousy nourished it. The plant grew and he fell in love with her. I should've known. He never explicitly told me he loved me.

Minho reached for me and for a second, I was tempted to just let him, but that would've been wrong. I wasn’t sure I could leave if he showed me affection. I turned around and hopped in my car.

“Have a good life,” were my last words to my beautiful ex boyfriend before I took off.

The next day, I gave my resignation letter to my boss, and apologized a ton for leaving so suddenly. I pretended to have an urgent family matter hundreds of kilometers away, and moved out during the week. I wanted to put as much distance between Minho and me as possible to help me forget about him. It wasn’t an easy feat. But I moved into a small apartment in another city, got a job in a dancing company named “Encore Dance” and resumed my life.

There, I met a man so pretty I could cry.

Hwang Hyunjin.

Have you seen this man?

thanks for reading! feedback is always appreciated :) masterlist

[bridgyrose]

Any chance of a part 3 to Semblance Mishaps?

(Answering both of these together)

Ruby couldnt help but stare at herself in the mirror as she ran shaky fingers through her now blonde hair. Her eyes seemed to swirl with silver and blue, her face looked more like Jaune’s than hers, even her combat gear was a mix of hers and Jaune’s. A breastplate that almost seemed merged with her corset, a skirt with pants underneath, the normal red and black she was used to almost seemed like an afterthought with how vibrant the white and gold looked.  She had promised Jaune that this would be safe, that he wouldnt have to worry about losing any of his teammates, and now the ghost of his face stared back at her in the mesh that was them. Another reminder of another failure. 

Her heart felt like it had tightened and her breath hitched as she thought about her failure to keep Penny safe. She had told herself for weeks that she had moved on from it, that it had been Penny’s choice to come back. And yet, the familiar guilt came back. Memories from the bridge came rushing back to her, many of them not her own. A tear ran down her cheek as she pressed a hand to the mirror, fingers shaking as the memory of Penny’s last breath ran through her mind. 

“Ruby?” Weiss asked through the apartment door. “Are you still in there?” 

“I am,” Ruby answered, her voice sounded foreign to her with the way it merged with Jaune’s. She took a deep breath to steady her voice and wiped away the tears that ran down her cheeks. “C-come in.” 

Weiss slowly walked in, her own voice soft as she spoke. “Nora told me what happened with you and Jaune. Its not your fault-” 

“It is my fault!” Ruby snapped at her. “I knew what would happen if I used my semblance with him! I promised him that I would be able to fix anything that I did! But I’m stuck like this!” 

“Only for now.” Weiss took a seat and offered a smile to Ruby. “You’ll fix this. I know it.” 

Ruby sat down, eyes unable to look at Weiss’s, ashamed of what she’d done. “I… I cant.” 

“You can-” 

“If I had been able to fix this, I’d be able to fix Blake and May!” 

Weiss let out a soft sigh and leaned over to put a hand on Ruby’s shoulder. “Ruby, I’ve seen you fight monsters that others wouldnt dare to take on their own, you did everything you could to save Mantle and Atlas when it could’ve been just as easy to follow Ironwood and do as he asked. I know you can do this because I’ve seen what you can do when you put your mind to it.” 

“What if I cant?” Ruby asked, finally looking up at Weiss. “What happens when everyone is stuck or if I fail just like I did with Penny?” 

“Because I know that you’ll stop at nothing to find a solution. Just like you did at Haven. At Argus… at Atlas. We’ll follow you no matter how long it takes.” 

“And what happens when I cant fix it? When everyone is stuck that way?” 

“You will be able to fix this.” Weiss grinned and stood up. “In fact, I’d be willing to stake my own self on that.” 

“Wait Weiss-” 

Weiss ran to the door, her voice starting to trail off as she made plans. “I’ll get Emerald to agree to it and we’ll prove to you that we’ll be fine! You just need to see that everything will be okay!” 

Ruby could only stare at the door as Weiss left, her body frozen at the thought of Weiss willingly putting herself at risk of never being herself again. This mistake with Jaune was supposed to be the last one, there wasnt supposed to be another. Not until she could fix things in the first place. 

“It’ll be okay," Jaune’s voice echoed in her head. “We can trust Weiss.” 

“I do trust her,” Ruby whispered to herself. “Its me I dont.”

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

9 Days of Lancaster: Dealer's Choice/First Date

I struggled to consider what I was doing right now my first date. Especially with the context that recollections of some of Pyrrha’s and I’s ‘outings’ provided.  

Fuck.

Not dwelling on that. 

By any other measure, a stroll through some town market with a guy and a girl who were now a thing was a date, right? Even though it was a patrol and we did basically the same thing yesterday, now it was different. Now we were ‘together.’

Ruby didn’t seem to mind at all, though, she flowed from place to place with her typical energy. It was as though she’d never been through these streets and past these stalls. She could just walk up to some person and talk to them. 

I… I really liked that about her.

Fuck.

She called me over from some RV that seemed to be a permanent feature in the square. Some short-term-long-term food-truck-restaurant? I wasn’t sure, but when she spun and called to me with a wave, I felt my jaw and was struck by the realization that I wasn’t sure just how long I’d been holding my teeth clenched together.

My face ached but she made me smile anyways as I paced over to her.

She smiled right up at me and I had to look away. I really wasn’t sure how I was even supposed to look at her. I almost meant that literally. Could I just, like, look at her now? Whenever I wanted?

I was trying not to be stressed about her of all things right now. Still, though…

“What’s up?”

“They’re moving people in from around the area.” She explained. I cocked my head. Beihfing and I had both been united about a panic. “They started a few weeks ago. I guess after the tower fell, a lot of people moved to bigger places, weird.”

Oh, maybe they hadn’t all died. Huh. “It's not that weird,” I disagreed, I eyed the woman Ruby had been talking to. She was twenty-five--thirty with blonde hair which made her stand out a little here, but her skin tone made her a match for some of the locals in terms of origin. “You had to run?”

“Well we couldn’t order dust or anything and it was pretty scary being mostly alone.” She shrugged, her casual ease with her emotions struck me. I was a total fucking stranger to her. Well, I was also a huntsman, so I didn’t analyze it and just nodded. “It was a good thing too, what with the other villages.”

I figured it was an open secret in GaiLong at this point, but I wasn’t sure. That kind of news would travel fast until everybody knew it at which point, why bother pretending? It was common knowledge.

“What’d you need?” I asked the two. 

It was Ruby who lured me in. “They wanted to pull the motor and alternator out of it and use it as a winch for other stuff. They’ve already pulled out all the bolts, but they don’t - well, if they already had a winch then they wouldn’t do this. 

“So?”

She rolled her eyes, “so nobody but you can lift it.”

The woman looked down at Ruby. “I’m telling you it weighs, like, four hundred pounds, easy.” I walked around and looked down into the hood. It was some dust-based thing with Atlas stamps, all smooth edges. It wasn’t designed to be repurposed. It was designed, perhaps, to not be able to be repurposed. Some technology was like that.

I reached down with one hand and, with a heave and a grunt, I lifted it and set it down. Ruby absolutely could have lifted it.

The woman blinked at me. “Oh uh.” Her eyes flicked to Ruby and back to me. “Could you set it over here? Then? If it’s not too much trouble?”

“Uh, no.” I returned.

She glanced at Ruby again. “No?”

“No, it’s not any trouble.” I clarified or tried to. “I didn’t mean… Not ‘no’…” I sighed. “Where do you want it?”

Ruby was laughing at me. I could see it as I passed her, following the woman to some cinder blocks. Our reward was something which I was assured was not ice-cream but was some kind of frozen custard-yogurt-stuff with sugar in it. 

To me it was good, for the time that I had it, that is. When we returned to the inn I still hadn’t showered after Ren and I trained that morning. Then I made the mistake of entrusting my teat to Ruby who had already nearly finished hers. 

When I got out of the shower there were only a few bites left of mine. “Ruby-“

“I left you some!” She pouted at me. I watched her take the last bite of hers from where she sat on her bed and set it daintily on the nightstand. Then she looked up and her smile never changed but she leaned forward onto her hands and stared at me.

I abruptly felt like covering myself, the towel and shorts I had on still showed off most of what I looked like. “Are you just going to stare at me?”

She blinked like I was alien. “Yeah.” Fair enough. I started putting on clothes anyways as she rolled around the bed. “I mean you stare at me, too, right.” I did. I had more than usual today, too, I didn’t want to hide what I felt from her. She continued, though. “I mean maybe not. Maybe, you like to look at girls like Sahov more?” 

“Who?” I wondered.

She tossed a pillow to my face. “The girl we were just talking to!” 

“Um…” I trailed off.

She slumped down into the covers. “Forget it.” 

“Ruby,” I started. I pulled a shirt over my head and began walking over to the bed. 

“I said forget it!”

I sat down. “Rubes you know you’re incredibly good looking right?”

“What?” She sat up from under the covers. “Yang’s the pretty one, I’m the cute one.”

“Ruby, if I didn’t know you and you came up to me on the street and started talking to me, I would assume I was being pranked somehow.”

“Ugh.” She let me know her disgust, but she wasn’t under the covers anymore and she was giving me this much sort of… sly smile.

I’d never seen that one before and it wasn’t something I usually associated with her. She crawled onto my lap and turned to face me, burying herself in the crook of my neck. I hesitated for a moment but let my arms rest around her slightly. 

“You really don’t think I’m cute.” She blushed. “I mean…”

“Oh yeah I just can’t stand to look at you,” I kissed her. Her bottom lip fit between my two and my ego was fed when I felt her relax in my arms. I chuckled as I pulled away.

She hit me and she was as red as I’d ever seen her. “Butt.” 

When I started laughing, she shut me down by kissing me again. 

[idoltime]

Idol Time’s Second Episode featuring ATLAS’ Sim Haedam (@svtlas), aired on March 22nd, 2024 with the shows returning and permanent host, Everlast’s Cody. Once again, the video earned quick attention and was trending #3 for weeks after its initial release which was a big success for show itself.

Cody appears on screen immediately after the intro is played and the bright Idol Time logo is shown, and similar to last episode, queue cards in one hand and mic in the other, with an overstretched smile replacing the previous blank expression he wore.

“Hi, and welcome back to Idol Time! The only interview show you need to tune in for and quite possibly the best show you’ve ever seen. Obviously hosted by me, Cody!”

“I’d just like to thank everyone for the support on the first episode, like, if I didn’t feel famous before, I really feel it now and all that funny stuff. Now, let’s introduce the second guest of our show ATLAS’ Haedam!”

Cody lets a dramatic pause pass before signalling for Haedam to enter the room. He does so with a small smile and raises both his hands to wave excitedly as he walks towards his seat.

“Hello! As you already know, my name is Haedam and I am the maknae of the seventeen subunit ATLAS and formerly a member of X1!” They both clap at Haedam’s introduction before Cody raises the mic to his mouth. “Welcome, Haedam. Anything you’d like the viewers to know about you?” He questions.

“Uhm…I like playing the guitar sometimes, baking, and hanging out with my members. Oh, and I’m really interested in building legos! I also have type one diabetes, I don’t think that's been mentioned before but I’m super excited to be here! I love interviews and stuff!”

Cody smiles in response to Haedam’s energy and flips over to the next queue card for the next set of questions.

“You’ve told both me and the viewers you were a former X1 member, so how was the survival show experience for you?” Haedam sighs, looking a little uneasy at the mention of the topic.

He swallows, visibly uncomfortable, whilst he finds his words. "It was fun....overall i think? but there were definitely parts that were really awful. They focused more about our performances and stuff than anything else. if we were sick... it didn't matter. It sucked. I don't think I would do it again."

Cody silently nods in agreement, knowing exactly how Haedam felt at the time.

“Personally, I think all future survival shows should be banned, period. But nobody’s gonna listen to me anyways, guys, trust me when I say they are not all that fun. Anyways, how’d it feel to place 3rd out of all those people? That’s a pretty high rank.”

Haedam’s face softens at the slight change in topic, seemingly quite proud of himself. "It felt really good! I was so proud of myself! Of course like, it would've been cool to be first but like, I'm grateful to have made it at all."

He grins. “I was honestly so surprised, it felt unreal to know that I had done a good enough job to make it through to the end.”

“How’d it feel when X1 disbanded, was it a big moment for you?” Cody asks.

Haedam’s eyes fixate themselves on the pattern of the floor as he talks, "Woah. I mean, I cried a lot. It was really scary because I didn't do anything wrong and it felt like I was being punished. I made a lot of friends in x1 and it hurt to have them taken away from me."

The room goes silent for a little, with Cody fumbling around with the order of the queue cards until he finally gets them in the correct sequence.

“It must’ve been a tough time for you to deal with, especially since X1 was your first group but you were given a second chance as a seventeen sub-unit. How did it feel when you knew ATLAS would be debuting?”

"I was so happy to have another chance. but i was so scared about it. I had a lot of anxiety because I felt like I had some type of curse, and that maybe my new group would disband suddenly too because I was in it. I love my group members, they reassured me a lot and helped me feel better about it."

“That's great, I’m glad you’re having a better time with ATLAS. But rumour has it, you were rigged into the X1 lineup, is that true?”

Haedam’s face contorts to one of shock, horrified that anyone would ever think that about him.

"I really wasn't rigged in, guys. I promise I have the papers here."

Now, Cody looks around, surprised at Haedam’s last few words.

“Wait—How did you even manage to get something like that?” Haedam shrugs, laughing it off.

“Don’t worry too much about it. I asked for these after X1 disbanded because I felt like it was maybe my fault but it wasn't....if anything maybe I was ranked lower than I should have been."

Cody laughs along with him, “Okay, fair enough. Any scandals you want to talk about?”

“Other than the X1 scandals people don't really make a lot of bad news that trend about me? at least ones that i want to address. So, thank you?"

“You’re lucky,” Cody responds and Haedam lets out a small hum. “Before we end the interview, any extra things you need to say or any upcoming projects?”

Haedam grasps onto his mic. “I wanna say hi to my old X1 members if they're listening! Hi guys! I miss you all! and hi to my hyungs because they're definitely watching! It's supposed to be a secret...but we may or may not have a comeback coming soon. You guys didn't hear it from me though."

Cody’s face brightens, “Well, it is comeback season. Now, some final words for the viewers of this episode?”

Haedam waves frantically and quickly thinks before answering.

“Bye everyone! Thank you so much for listening to me! Please keep tuning into idol time because it's really cool! Have a great day!"

Cody copies Haedam’s wave as they wave in sync, “I couldn’t have said it better myself, see you next episode!” The video cuts to the bright blue logo before fading out into darkness once more.

[hermionegalathynius]

Found Family (1/?)

Fandom: Now You See Me

Pairing: Daniel Atlas x Reader

Warnings: mentions of traumatic childhood experiences.

Part 2

“I can’t believe you broke into their apartment,” you hissed, swatting your sister on the arm as she stuck her tongue out at you.

  “Your just jealous because I got to see the great J Daniel Atlas before you did. If it’s any consolation, Ididn’t get to see Jack,” she said, winking at you in a very conspicuous way. 

  You fought the blush that threatened to make its way onto your face. Lula was the only person on the planet that knew of your celebrity crush on the head Horseman, and that was just because you knew each other so well it was impossible to keep secrets. 

  “Shut up,” you muttered through gritted teeth, casting a pointed look in Dylan’s direction. The older man was typing away on a laptop resting on the kitchen counter. Luckily it didn’t seem like he’d heard anything. 

  “…broke into my apartment, alright?” A familiar voice echoed through the door at the top of the stairs, you straightened, running a hand through your hair nervously.

  “Some amateur who knew everything about me, everything about Henley leaving, and everything about us,” Atlas continued, coming into view on the platform. Refusing to let any silly feelings get in the way of your job here, you forced yourself to breathe evenly. Lula grinned, jumping up and down next to you.

  At the sight of your sister, Atlas ran a hand across his chin in dismay and leaned against the railing, “That’s her.”

  “Hey!” Lula exclaimed, raising her hands above her head, beaming. You buried your face in your hands and shook your head, embarrassed for her.

  “Hi,” Atlas said, exhausted defeat coating his tone. You dropped your hands, giving the three men a little wave, an apologetic wince on your face.

  Dylan stood up and addressed the Horsemen, “You’ve met Lula.”

  Atlas grimaced, “I’ve met her. But not the other one, who’s she?”

  You took this as your cue to introduce yourself, “Um, yeah. Hi. Name’s Y/n.”

  He nodded, “Nice to meet you,” then immediately turning to Dylan, “What are they doing here?”

  “Well, we’re the new Horsemen!” Lula declared, making you want to curl up and die. 

  Atlas looked at you as if to ask ‘is she serious?’ You shrugged, “She’s right.”

  “We’re the new girl Horsemen!” Lula continued, completely unprompted by anyone. To your utter dismay, she proceeded to whoop and cheer, waving her hands as if to tell them to join in. 

  “Lula… Lula,” you said softly, pushing her hands down.

  “Nobody?” She asked, infinitely confident, “No excitement? Jack?”

  “Dylan,” Merritt said, “Dylan, what’s going on?”

  The three men began the descent down the stairs as Dylan explained. 

  “Well, Lula and Y/n have been on the underground scene for the last… decade, and I think they have some real talent and I’d like to try them out on stage to balance out the duo.”

  Throughout this speech, Lula was nodding enthusiastically, a wide-eyed smile on her face. You just watched the three Horsemen with caution. 

  As you guessed, Jack protested, “What? No man, I thought you said after Henley left that I could get back on stage again, not someone who just showed up!”

  He advanced on Dylan, the older man putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 

  Lula waved enthusiastically at Jack as he passed the two of you, Merritt and Atlas following close behind. When it was clear Jack wasn’t going to react, she turned to wave at Atlas who returned it halfheartedly. He met your gaze, quirking his brows in greeting. You gave him a tight-lipped smile, trying to calm your erratic heart. 

  “I’d said I’d think about it and I have, and I really need you behind the scenes with me for a little while,” Dylan said, an apologetic look on his face. 

  Jack sighed, “C’mon Dylan, I’ve been behind the scenes my whole life.”

  “Which is a crime, might I add,” Lula interjected, making you wince, “Have you seen that man’s face?”

  You tried not to think about the fact that Danny Atlas was standing right next to you, watching the whole encounter. 

  At your sister’s comment, Jack stared at her with a mix of confusion and awkwardness. 

  “As much as I appreciate the addition of some femininity to the group over an above what Atlas provides,” Merritt began.

  You actually smiled at that, huffing a soft laugh and prompting a shocked look from the man in question. 

“I think the real issue is that we’ve been in this-“ Merritt continued, but was interrupted by Atlas.

  “Yeah, the issue is we have been rehearsing for months, for something… we don’t even know what it is-“

  “You’re gonna keep working until-“ Dylan tried, but Atlas interjected again. 

  “Until we work as a single organism, I know. I’ve heard you say that,” he said, frustration leaking into his voice, “Thing is, when you say that, what I think your referring to is us,” he said, gesturing to everyone but Dylan, “you know, not you.”

  “Listen, I’m getting my orders directly from The Eye, okay, and then I give them to you. Now if you don’t like that, you’re welcome to go,” Dylan said. You froze. You had been completely unaware that tension was so high between Atlas and Dylan. Would you and Lula joining help or just make the situation worse?

  “No, I’m not going anywhere,” Atlas said, “But I’m… hm… I’m taking care of myself.”

  “Guys,” Lula said, drawing the brunt of the attention away from the cat fight seconds from happening between Dylan and Atlas, “Can I just weigh in, because I think I see what’s going on here.”

  You shook your head, “Uh, Lula, I don’t think you do-“

  “You guys are this amazing, tight knit family unit,” she continued, completely ignoring your warning, “Y/n and I are these new people stepping in-“

  “No no no no, we are not a family unit,”Merritt protested.

  “Well, our mother… literally knifed our father in the neck one time, so you’re kinda like our family unit,” Lula said. 

  Atlas’s head turned to look at you, his eyes wide. You winced at the memory. 

  “Literally?” Merritt asked, disbelief clear in his tone. 

  “Uh, yeah, it was an accident,” you said, then added, “at least we think.”

  “Okay…” the mentalist said, changing the subject quickly, “So does this mean we’re actually going to do something?”

  “Yes,” Dylan said. 

  Silence fell for a moment. The five Horsemen looked at each other in shock. You met Atlas’s gaze for what felt like the millionth time so far. He quirked a brow — a mannerism you were beginning to realise he did a lot. 

  “You’ve all heard of Octa and they’re playboy CEO Owen Case?” Dylan asked, looking around the circle, “His partner Walter Mabry died about a year ago. You wanna know what all this has been leading to?”

  “Now?” Lula asked before pulling out the blueprints Dylan had brought with him to the apartment.

�� “Octa’s holding a launch of of the next gen’s cell phone. Once these phones are on the streets, he’ll cipher the user’s information for the Black Market. Meaning Octa’s selling privacy to up their profit, so The Eye has decided to expose him for it. Our mission is to hijack the show.”

  You looked around at everyone’s faces. Their grim expressions matched your own. 

 “Rehearsal’s over guys. This is what we’ve been waiting for. Now it’s time to get to work.”

[jinxxangel13]

Ancient Enchantment

Chapter 3

Sorry it took me so long to get to this chapter! Work has been insane lately and honestly. It's been difficult for me to edit. But I'm going better and will catch back up again. Thank you for your patience!

~Masterlist~ ~Prev~ ~Next~

[Image is not mine; found it on pinterest!]

Recap:

“Better luck next time, Atlas!”

“Az! You’re lucky I’m not dressed yet or I’d have gotten you by now!” He yelled from their room as she slammed the door behind her. 

Azara could tell that Alistair was rushing to get dressed, so she took a deep breath and calmly strolled down the hallway towards the common room. 

“I suppose some introductions are in order.” Azara muttered to herself as she looked around. 

The room was absolutely gorgeous with high ceilings, murals across most of the walls, a few sculptures and statues throughout the few rooms she could see, and three floor-to-ceiling windows in the room to her right, which had small little nooks that seemed to encompass the chair in one of them. It looked like a place she could get lost in; the window seats would definitely be somewhere she would be commonly found during sleepless nights, she could guarantee. 

As she walked closer to those exact windows, she finally noticed it wasn't the sky reflecting the blue coloring, but water. They were underwater, and the thought of that both made her slightly panic and fill her with excitement. She remembered reading about the castle a few weeks prior to their transfer, but seeing it was a completely different story to the book.

“Must be the Black Lake.” Her voice was soft, drowned out by the chatter of the common room, ignoring the whispers about herself she knew were circling.

Azara got closer and stepped into the half dome of the middle window, running the back of her knuckles across the glass, relishing in the cool feeling as she placed her palm against it. She could feel the ripples of the water, and the light bumping of the fish in the surrounding area gently knocking against the window. 

A smile went across her face as she watched the creatures, excitement once again filling her at the thought of what it must be like above the surface if underneath it already looks this beautiful.

“I think I heard one!” 

Azara turned to her right, seeing a couple of younger students in the other window next to a blonde boy facing them.

“I doubt mermaids find us that interesting.” The blonde boy, now in front of her as she stepped closer, spoke in their direction.

As she approached cautiously, looking out the window the first years were at, the blonde boy turned towards her, seeming to look completely past her. 

Azara turned her head behind her slightly to see if he was looking at anyone else, but all she saw was her brother on the other side of the room talking to a tall dark haired boy by the fireplace across from the dorm hallway.

She looked back to the blonde, finding him much closer than expected, less than a foot away from her now. Her heart sped up from the closeness, but she steadied herself with a few deep breaths as she made eye contact with him.

He was quite a bit taller than herself, about the same height of her brother at 6 feet she would guess, his grown out blonde hair was partially slicked back with what looked to be natural brown-blonde highlights, and swirling sky-blue eyes, though they seemed almost clouded over. His jaw was chiseled, and he had freckles and beauty marks as well as a couple soft moles littering his face. She noticed he had no pupils and that he kept looking past her and not directly at her. Interesting.

It clicked then that he must have been blind. Interesting, as she had only met one other blind wizard, or person for that matter, and that was her own father.

“Ah, based on all the chatter from when you entered the common room a few moments ago, I’m guessing you’re the new fifth-year, or at least one of them. I’m Ominis, Ominis Gaunt.”

“It is nice to meet you, Ominis. I’m Azara Valentine. My brother is the other fifth-year, Alistair.” Azara smiled, though she knew he couldn't see it, he would most likely hear it in her voice.

Ominis chuckled, “Well, you certainly had a memorable arrival, if i do say so.”

Azara shook her head with a soft laugh, pushing her double fishtail braids over her shoulders.

"Well, if I'm going to make my own mark at this school, why not start right away?”

Ominis let out a nice laugh, one that made her slightly blush at the undertones of it.

“You’re definitely in the right house then, Azara. Do let me know if I can be of any help to you as you navigate your first days here.” He tilted his head towards her, as though he was actually looking directly in her eyes, causing her to freeze momentarily. “Though, I highly doubt you’ll need it.”

Azara looked back towards the first-years that finally left the window to leave the room.

“Did that student say he thought he saw a mermaid?”

Ominis chuckled again. “Yes, but I've never heard of one showing up outside our common room window. Though it is fun to play along. They’ve been known to keep some first-years on the lookout for hours at a time.”

She hummed a laugh, looking back at the window before asking him another question.

“Were you- uhm. Were you expecting to be sorted into Slytherin?” 

Ominis nodded to her question, albeit hesitantly, almost as if he wasn't expecting her to ask that.

“Most certainly.”

She tilted her head at him in confusion. “Why is that, Ominis?”

He smiled at her, eyes squinting for a moment as if trying to word things correctly.

“My family on my father’s side are direct descendents of Salazar Slytherin- one of the four founders of Hogwarts.”

“Woah.” She softly muttered, amazement and wonder flooding her thoughts and features, suddenly very glad no one else heard her, nor that he could see her face.

“It’s not something I'm especially proud of, mind you. He was obsessed with blood status; a pureblood maniac.”

Azara chuckled, coughing to try to cover it up but Ominis seemed to hear anyway and smirked at her.

“Unfortunately most of his descendents do not fall far from the tree.”

“I can understand the feeling.” was all she said, a slight shrug following her statement. “Though I doubt you’re anything like them.”

He shook his head. “I would hope not.”

Azara stepped back and slightly to the side finally, his unseeing eyes following her movements out of habit.

“Thank you, Ominis. It was very nice to meet you.”

“Trust me. Pleasure was all mine. Don’t be a stranger now, Azara.” Ominis nodded at her.

“Of course. Promise.” She waved gently in goodbye before turning away from him and heading towards her brother, who was still talking to the same boy.

As she approached, she heard the two of them laughing and joking.

“Look who decided to grace us with her presence.” Alistair crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow, though his smile gave away to his teasing.

She hummed, leaning against the stone next to the fireplace between the two boys.

“Nice of you to finally wake up, Atlas. Was worried you had overslept again.” She teased back.

Alistair's eyes widened at her, while the other boy burst into laughter and clapped her brother on the back.

[mantispire]

I’d love to hear your Ironqrow headcanons!

I have like an entire barbie dreamhouse with these characters in my head so I have legitimately hundreds... here are a few that might be the most interesting/whatever... I'm sort of shy about sharing this stuff. Laugh

I think they met back during the Vytal tournament and faced off in their one/one match. Qrow won + they kept contact over the years.

They have a /lot/ of really rough patches + a history of really bad arguments, usually hinging on Ozpin and his decisions/ their own stresses as a scout/headmaster/general/ the million other things Jame and Qrow both deal with over the years + both of their entire separate PTSDs

During the 'events of canon' ( v 1-3-> ) they're divorced and hadn't really spoken in years. I think they were married for a sort of comically brief time but it was a nightmare due to aforementioned ^ issues. They're both stubborn and have a lot of disagreements so I don't think the marriage was able to last + everyone around them knew it.

I headcanon that when they were most stably together ( like late 20's/early 30's? I need to figure out The Ironqrow Timeline in my head but that requires a lot of exploration I'm too tired to do right now ) that they tried to have a kid together. It didn't work out + both of them have a lot of feelings about it that stuck around even as they get older

Qrow ended up spending a lot of time away from James / away from Atlas especially while he had to help Taiyang raise the girls after Summer died. This didn't help their really patchy relationship -- just a lot of both of them being pulled apart by life's events.

Qrow was there with James ( as best as he could be ) as he underwent the years-long process of healing from the "paladin incident" -- lots of waiting with bated breath during surgeries and sitting at James's bedside and helping him through physical therapy etc etc etc. He was drinking at this time though and spends a lot of time regretting that he wasn't 'there' more, even though James just remembers Qrow's love and how faithfully he'd been there for him through a /lot/ of humiliating and horrible moments

I like to imagine ( in my dollhouse. This isn't relevant to canon at all. ) during v7/ Qrow's return to Atlas they start to patch things up, sort of mentally returning to the place they were when they met: one of mutual appreciation, slowly starting to undo a lot of their interpersonal problems and finding that ease and comfort with eachother once again that they'd lost. Like they come back to the metaphorical dusty empty home they left and start to clean things up. I think James would be a really big instrument in Qrow's stopping drinking and would have helped him through the process both physically and mentally. I just think they would slowly start to ease into one another, so much older now but also healed in a lot of ways. The world wont have been any better but they've both been through so much and can finally find that comfort in each other.

Qrow misplaces James's favorite fountain pen without thinking and James spends the whole day looking for it because he can't function without the specific pen he needs to use. Qrow returns it with an apology at the end of the day because he realized he'd accidentally put it in his pocket. James is just happy /he/ didn't leave it somewhere and it didn't get damaged or anything.

Sorry these got sort of serious... a lot of the silly ones are pretty contextual and small. but this is my ironqrowverse. I hope this all makes sense... thanks for reading, if anyone survived my rambling. LOL

[ninhaoma-ya]

Chapter 1078 — Escape limit

I really enjoy the cover story! Good for Judge and Caesar; sad for Reiju and Ichiji, sighing in defeat. Maybe there is hope for the next generation of Vinsmokes after all?

Confirmation about the Void Century research conducted on Egghead! As well as a nice little nod to the difference between government-sponsored weapons research (Egghead) and ancient institutionalised academia (Ohara) — one you can just bomb, the other will bomb you back.

Cool use of the silhouette-against-explosion-trope here.

She is one cold-blooded snake, stomping Pythagoras like that, tho’ :(

I wonder if Boa and S-Snake’s powers are reversible through haki? If Law’s earlier negation of Doc Q’s sick-sick fruit is anything to go by, I’d say yes; her mero-mero power just has the unfortunate side effect of paralyzation, making your haki useless… power-up for Franky in the pipeline?

Backup! Backup! Backup!

The flying thing is cool as well.

And Atlas is one big girl.

We knew that. But still.

All rights, it’s nice that Sanji’s embracing his human-exoskeleton-thing. And his eyebrow has reversed, so it’s proper Germa Science! going on. But does he have to look so pleased with himself?

Ooo, also a lot of ideas about how his mum sacrificed herself so he could be normal and all the love she had and how that could be seen as the power of love too and how he continues the love and—

—and Luffy and Zoro are being absolute morons again.

On the other hand, Kaku’ snot showing his critical thinking skills either right now, reacting way too late to being called Usopp.

And Luffy, really? You’ve fought Pigeon Guy earlier, why are you surprised he’d happily eliminate the weaker links to rattle the stronger ones? He’s done it before. You threatened/tricked him into not doing that once this fight is finished!

On one hand, it’s the exact same tactic Luffy had against Kaido: bash your head against the wall until you think of something else.

On the other hand, I miss his earlier adaptation and quick battle-thinking. After the time-skip it feels like he’s just… hitting things again and again. Which, don’t read me wrong, is a pleasure at times (see: pummelling Caesar, pummelling Doflamingo, pummelling Cracker, pummelling Kaido…). But I do miss the wacky pre-timeskip fights: Luffy having to figure out how to fight with a ton of gold hanging of his arm. Luffy with a Door through his face. Luffy breaking Kuro’s swords. Water Luffy.

But we move on, to what will be known as the Egghead Incident, apparently.

What do Bonney see? What secrets do Kuma’s memories hold? O_o

Traitor speaking, how may I help you?

Love Angry Lilith in the background.

Although art quality has gone down, Oda really can tell a story. This is the last panels on the spread and we still don’t know who it is. But it is someone huge: they have to bend to fit through the door and their shadow is massive on Vegapunk.

But who can it be?

York is huge.

She was petrified by S-Snake; did she manage to unpetrify her as well in the chaos? Does she have an antidote? Do S-Snakes powers, unlike Boa’s, only last for a certain amount of time before unraveling?

I wonder if killing of the satellites destroys that part of Vegapunk’s personality or if they.. return, somehow?

And it’s a really nice comment on the need for balance in people. You are not only your feelings or desires: you are the combination of those, keeping each other in check and balance. People who lose their feelings make worse decisions that people with a healthy blend of rationality and emotion, for example, and no human can be completely rational. Vegapunk let his desires lose on the world, and where did that leave him? Prisoner in his own cellar.

And York: they don’t let you become a Celestial Dragon just like that, you know that, right Guessing the Elder Star on their ways has a special mission with regards to her…

Interesting chapter, nice plot drop. I give it a treasonous heart and a desire for the extravagant things in life (and total ignorance of the suffering producing those things).

[goxinsane]

{ @ghostsxagain x }

Sure, just like any ordinary kid, one would dream of going to Disney alongside your loving family. There were countless rides and attractions, characters to meet and great food, but it was never something Carrot found interest in. Many kids at her school raved about the idea, but the Dyer family was NOT part of the norm. Idealistically, the vacation was too expensive to enjoy-- coming from someone whom was now maintenance or found enjoyment in unique or niche things. Carrot didn’t need to be bought nor stay miserable, because she knew better than to be stuck-- far, far away from comfort, and deal with someone she once called a father, alongside a step-mother and her brat of a kid. More important dreams boggled throughout the redhead’s mind instead--- the idea of having at least one parent continuously love her and her brother Atlas, after their nasty divorce.

Oliver had a funny way of showing it, as one (biological) child cut ties while the other was forcibly hanging on by a loose, orange thread. He never listened, but that was just the tip of the metaphorical ‘iceberg’, knowing there was so much more to this relationship with their mother than what was ever let on. One had to physically be there in order to truly understand, though, she couldn’t blame her, there was no use in sacrificing one’s own happiness while being the only player on the team whom gave it their all. Now, as Carrot and Atlas grew up with their mother’s love, now she dreamt that Sidney would receive the love she deserved, even if it started with self-love. This was a better family dynamic, in the long-run. 

“Sure, sure, we got all summer,” A nod acknowledged her mother’s proposal to a trip. Not that they could spend the entirety just having fun-- they had lives to live. Sidney worked. Atlas had his own friends and adventures and could even spend hours on sketches. And Carrot? She wanted to spend time in their swimming pool, hang with some friends (and her crush) the local skate-park, or forest, and even proudly find herself a part-time job. This summer would hopefully be better than the last, but she never looked forward to returning to school. At least exams were over, and she could forget the past week of HELL. “I’m game, if you are. Especially to spite them.” It sounded vicious, maybe even with a tinge of anger throughout her voice, but she really was happier in this household-- and that wasn’t because Sidney spoke so casually. Like she said, Grandma wasn’t too keen. Though, a trip, just the two of them? Carrot got lots of her personality from her mother, but what could go wrong? They’ll talk about it later.

After speaking, her eyes darted back to focus on her rummaging. Focusing on anything but the sudden topic, was key. Actually, bringing up the topic of permanently living here, had hit a sore spot and no, not talking about summer plans could pull them out now. Why would she want to look at her mother, when she could possibly cry? (Again!) Her ducts felt blocked, anyways. Carrot grabbed her bathing suit from her bag, shoved it besides her and aggressively zipped up the bag. She didn’t like the attention right now, but knew it was better to say something than not, even just to temporarily set peace. “Of course he zaps the happiness outta me, he’s an asshole.” But he’s your father!-- She could hear Grandma say that too.

With an exhale, Carrot brushed the hair away from her face and behind her ear. “The simplest of shit sets that man off, these days. He had a tantrum before driving me back here.” She mumbled and sat back in her spot. Carrot knew her mother’s intentions were nothing but the best, but she’d rather restart the start of her summer vacation, properly. “...I would LOVE to stay here, you’re my awesome mom and I got Atlas too, but I’m sure he’ll find some way to keep, keeping me in the loop of his life.” She scoffed at the thought. “Like I’d want that! You outta know he invited me, and and only me, to his wedding? I bet he did that just to spite you.” Come to think of it, most definitely he did. And knowing the dress his soon-to-be wife picked out? Was burned in her mind. It was ugly, and Carrot didn’t do dresses.

Her next words were said mockingly and ended with a grumble under her breath, stubbornly. At least she was suddenly vocal, but that didn’t stop the random stream of blood trickling down from her nostril... “You know he’ll probably never budge with me, he wants his precious princess in his life, even if that means wanting to change me.”

[lynzishell]

Prev // Next

Transcript:

[Atlas arrives at the house around midday on Winterfest. Asher had come up a day earlier and was waiting for him on the porch with his dog at his side.]

Asher: Hello handsome

[He says this with a slight smile and a wink knowing it will make Atlas both cringe and blush at the same time.]

[Atlas, both cringing and blushing, rolls his eyes and runs up the steps, greeting Asher with a kiss.]

Atlas: Hi

[The dog begins to howl, clearly offended at being ignored.]  

Atlas: This must be Jasper. Asher: Sure is. Atlas: Too bad you’re not allowed a dog in your apartment. Asher: Ah, wouldn’t be fair to him even if they did. He has so much room to run here. I wouldn’t feel right bringing him to the city.

[When they make their way inside, Atlas is grateful to see that, aside from an infant cooing and sputtering in the living room, the house is empty, giving him a moment to acclimate before having to socialize.]

Asher: My parents and sister are down the road visiting the neighbor. I’m on baby duty until they get back. Atlas: Is that Iris’s baby? Asher: Yep, I’m officially an uncle. Atlas: Congratulations. Asher: [smiling proudly] Thank you.

[While Asher sets the table and cleans up a bit, Atlas wanders the room, taking everything in.]

[It’s not long before his family returns and the house comes to life. He’s greeted with smiles and hugs from each of them, feeling almost overwhelmed at how kind and warm they all are. He realizes he’d expected them to act cold or tense around him now that he was Asher’s boyfriend rather than friend, but if anything, they are even sweeter than before.]

[No one even bats an eye when Asher reaches over and puts a hand on his during dinner. They just carry on eating and laughing and sharing stories. Soon, he finds himself joining in and laughing along with them.]

[Eventually, Atlas sneaks away to find a quiet spot to reset. To his surprise, Jasper follows and hops up on the bench with him. He’s not used to dogs. In fact, he’s never had a pet of any kind before, so he isn’t sure what to do. But when Jasper lays next to him, he decides to let him stay. Soon the dog rests his head in Atlas’s lap and lets his full weight relax into the side of him. Something about this makes Atlas’s body relax as well, and he decides then and there that he’d like to have a dog of his own one day.]

Asher: You always know how to find the best hiding places, don’t you? Atlas: It’s a gift.

Asher: Aw and you have friend this time. Atlas: Gah! You woke him up! [laughing as Jasper reaches up to lick his face] Asher: [laughing] Sorry!

[Asher calls the dog off the bench and gives him some pets before sending him out of the room.]

[He takes a seat next to Atlas, and looks at him for a moment, trying to decipher his expression.]

Asher: How are you doing? Atlas: Good. Just thinking. Asher: What about? Atlas: Is your family always like this? Asher: Like what? Atlas: So… nice. Asher: [laughs] Yeah, they’re always like that. Is it too much? Atlas: No, it’s great…

Asher: Mhm. So, what’s on your mind? Atlas: Have they always been this supportive? Like, your transition and being queer and everything. Asher: Yeah. I mean, they didn’t always understand, and there were some bumps in the road, but we worked through it. At the end of the day, they just want me to be happy. And I’m clearly much happier now.

Atlas: That’s… amazing. You know how lucky you are? Asher: Believe me, I do. Atlas: I can’t even imagine. Asher: Yeah? What’s your story?

Atlas: Ough, the opposite. I knew what my parents, and pretty much everyone, would say if they found out I was gay, so I kept it secret until I graduated and was ready to go off to college. Dawn and I had pretty much already decided we were leaving and never going back. Maybe I didn’t even need to come out to them, I could’ve just left, but I was tired of hiding. It felt like, if I could come out to them, then I’d never have to hide again.

Asher: What’d they say?

Atlas: Pretty much what I expected them to. [scoffs] They even tried to send me to a camp. Asher: A camp? Atlas: Conversion therapy. Asher: What the fuck? I thought that was illegal. Atlas: Still happens. At least in our small community. Asher: How could anyone… and to their own kid?

Atlas: [shrugs] You’d be surprised. Anyway, so, we left. We haven’t seen or spoken to anyone since. Not just our parents, but aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, everyone. Asher: So, when you said you lost everyone that was ever important to you… Atlas: Everyone, but Dawn. Asher: I’m sorry. Atlas: It’s okay. It’s for the best, honestly.

[Asher leans back and pulls Atlas to him, letting him lay down, and running his fingers through his hair.]

Asher: Well, now you have me. And my family really likes you, y’know. Atlas: I like them too. In fact, if we ever break up, I’m keeping them. Asher: [laughs] I’m sure we can figure out some kind of custody arrangement. Atlas: Maybe.

Asher: Though, if you keep planning for our breakup, you’re gonna start hurting my feelings. Atlas: Sorry. Force of habit. Asher: Well, we’ll have to break that habit, ‘cause you’re stuck with me. I’m not going anywhere. Atlas: Me either. Asher: Good… We’ll have to go back in soon, if you’re up for it. Atlas: Yeah, just five more minutes. Asher: Sure.

[atlasseriesryufied]

⟢ Sexual Relief

warnings: threesome (f/m/m), eifell tower, anal, missionary sex, blowjob, oral (m and f receiving), fully putting it in without warning

pairings: Libby Rhodes/Nico de Varona | Libby Rhodes/Tristan Caine

AU wherein Tristan offers to help find Libby too, and Atlas decides it’s good for both Tristan and Nico to work together.

Tristan gave it some thought, a lot of it, maybe too much for someone who barely knows the woman aside from what everyone else already knows. He truly cared for Libby, and he knew this was real, and not an effect from what Parisa did to him, and to both of them on.. that night.

He knows Nico’s in Libby’s room right now, probably pondering on what other idea he hasn’t tried in an attempt to find Libby. Nico had left the door slightly open, inviting anyone to join him. Truly, Nico wouldn’t want anyone’s help if it wasn’t Libby’s body that he was currently trying to find, and especially because the others showed no interest in finding Libby, except for Tristan, but Nico doesn’t know that yet.

He hesitantly approached the door to her room, slowly pushing it out of the way, making him have a peak of Nico sitting on the other edge of her bed where her body wasn’t in sight. Tristan thought to himself, “Is Libby worth your effort, Tristan?” but it was like his body had a mind of its own as he pushed the door fully open. Nico doesn’t acknowledge him, whether on purpose or not Tristan doesn’t know.

Tristan shut the door behind him and Nico moved aside, creating space beside him on the bed, a sort of invitation, like “explain yourself”, because at this point, Nico had lost all hope that anyone else was willing to help him. Tristan gave a long sigh, “Nico,” he called out and started to walk towards him, he wasn’t used to talking to the man in the room with him, so his name left a sting on his tongue, “I have an idea”.

Nico pats the area beside him and Tristan finally sits. Tristan finally sees Nico’s face clearly, a cut on his left cheek and a bruise on his head which Tristan can only see a quarter of. Tristan clears his throat, “Parisa informed me of your roommate that you visit in your dreams, and you’ve also visited a parallel plane from Parisa’s actions, correct?”. Nico nods, letting Tristan continue, “She chose to do it to you, and surely not for no reason. But we were there too, we experienced it, and so did Dalton, who’s.. a more authorized being of The Society than us,” what he’d truly wanted to say was a higher being but that would crush what remains of their egos after signing up for this academy.

Nico nods once again, he’s starting to understand what Tristan is trying to say, “What if, whoever had captured Libby, did it to us again?”. The talisman of Tristan’s had disappeared, so he concluded that it was either that, or it had just walked out of his pocket. Nico’s hands slowly ball into fists and Tristan slightly gets back. Nico sighs before speaking, “Ok, how do we.. get out of it?”. Tristan blinks, “Libby and I had managed to stop time together, with each other’s help,” Nico turns to Tristan, eyebrows furrowed, Nico hasn’t got a clue that that happened, but it’s unimportant, “and you’re practically the same, so I figured we’d be capable of doing something that requires as much skill as that took”.

Tristan “forgot” to mention one minor detail, it was only Tristan that could move when that act took place. Tristan spoke, “I presume from the roommate that you have in your dreams that you’d understand what to do, right? I’d simply be a tool for you to use in order to control whatever you wanted”. They lock eyes for a moment before Nico glances at his bloody fists. Come to think of it, the room did have a few changes from when they first found “Libby’s body”.

Nico points out, “I’ve only ever done this through dreams, through the subconscious, it won’t work through the conscious mind”. “Have you tried it?” Tristan asks. “Fine,” Nico sighs in defeat, and so try they did. After a few hundred tries (exaggerated), it worked, sort of. Tristan was the only one in this parallel wherein the real Libby, their Libby existed, and he knew.

He spawned in front of a door, and obviously he opened it, seeing Libby passed out on her bed. Tristan notices that the room they’re in right now is an exact replica of Libby’s room. Tristan doesn’t bother to look around as he immediately runs towards Libby. Hands on her shoulders, “Libby? Libby wake up!”. A distant thud is heard, but Tristan has another matter to attend to.

Libby wakes up, gasping as she frantically starts to look around the room, grabbing Tristan’s forearms. Tristan gives a gleeful sigh, “Oh thank God,” it had only occured to Libby now that Tristan is with her. She turns her head at him and gives him a hug, one that Tristan hesitantly reciprocated.

Libby grabs a handful of the back of Tristan’s shirt and pulls him away. Silence fills the air, along with some gasps here and there. A door closing shut is heard, making Libby snap back to reality, urging her to kiss Tristan, which Tristan happily returns. Libby tugs at his shirt collar and therefore closes the distance between them, making Tristan put his knee on the bed, accidentally nudging Libby’s entrance as Libby moans into their kiss.

It was like that turned the switch on inside Tristan’s body. He grabs the bottom of her neck, deepening their kiss, as he unbuttons his shirt with the free hand, making Libby unzip her skirt. Wet kissing noises filled the room as Tristan lightly pushes her onto the bed and he gets on the opposite end. He proceeds to unzip his pants then he spreads Libby’s legs, noticing her purple lingerie, not entirely a matching set as her bra that’s peeking through her shirt is a regular one.

He pushes the bottom of the underwear aside with his middle finger as he toys with the opening, earning him a closed-mouthed groan of (sexual) frustration from Libby. “Relax,” he whispers before putting the tip of his tongue inside. Libby opens her mouth but settles for a soft sigh, careful to not boost his ego.

She bites her lip as she feels his finger on her clit but Tristan places his lips on it, humming, forcing a high-pitched moan out of Libby as she feels Tristan’s smile on her pussy. He decides to continue putting his tongue on her outer g-spot as he inserts the upper part of his middle finger inside.

“Ah.. shit.. stop.. teasing.. fuck,” Libby groans, and Tristan obliges, putting two fingers fully inside shortly after. She arches her back, “Oh.. g-god!”, and Tristan can agree. Libby’s pussy tasted like the best thing ever, she takes care of her hygiene well I suppose. Ezra did like his girls like that.

As more moans and slurping noises basically engulfed the room, Tristan sat up, taking his shaved length out that was slightly wet with precum, though more got on his Ralph Lauren boxers. I guess both of them went with classy undergarments tonight.

Libby’s eyebrows slightly go up from shock, she’d never seen it up close before, and she was drunk that time. Now she’s fully sober, filling her mind with thoughts that made her glad Parisa wasn’t in the room, or in the parallel at all.

Neither of them obviously had protection in this parallel, given that Libby didn’t even bother checking her night stand before spreading her legs wider, and Tristan would be lying if he said that didn’t make him hornier. Can a girl get pregnant in a plane whilst facing the consequences in another? They don’t mind finding out as he puts the tip in and notices Libby already gripping the sheets, preparing herself for the full thing. Which should be easy for her as she’s taken this before, never sober though.

He puts half of it in and starts thrusting, forcing a groan out of both of them. Tristan had been craving for this, and he’s gonna take in this entire moment. He doesn’t bother asking when he puts more of it in, another high-pitched moan comes out of Libby’s sweet soft lips, and she can’t seem to stop making noises as Tristan continues moving his hips back and forth.

The sound of a door creaking open joins the inaudible sounds the room contains, making Libby flinch, which in return, made Tristan groan when her walls clenched. Libby can’t find the words to explain to Nico, the man currently standing in the doorway, whatever is happening right now. Tristan glances at Nico and stares back at Libby’s face, which is mixed with lust, guilt, shame, and more lust. Mainly lust.

Pardon my french but holy crap was this a sight that Nico hadn't fully taken in yet. Libby goes missing and now he’s seeing her getting pounded by Tristan, but blinded with lust, he says “Turn her over, would you?” Nico requests as he starts unzipping his trousers, to which Tristan pauses and grins.

Libby gives a sigh of relief and lays on her elbow before Tristan pulls out and makes her lay on her stomach, grabbing the back of her neck afterwards. Tristan slowly starts putting half of his cock inside Libby’s ass, getting a low groan out of Tristan, as Nico kneels in front of Libby on the bed, placing his cock on Libby’s cheek.

Libby, again, dumbfounded as fuck as this is the first time she sees Nico’s dick– aside from the often hard-on she sees whenever they argue– and man did she not expect it to be this big, especially up close, right in front of her.

“Holy shit,” was all she could get out, making the younger boy chuckle. She grabs it and guides it to her mouth, slowly pushing herself to engulf it completely, to which she fails to do without gagging, but does engulf it nonetheless.

Nico throws his head back and moans loudly, the bliss making him grab Libby’s hair and starts to entirely use her mouth, making Libby give out a series of gagging noises. Truthfully, Tristan didn’t understand how they held out on eachother from pursuing their tension for this long.

Tristan, with no warning yet again, fully pushes his cock inside her hole, making Libby let out a stuttered gasp because of the length that's in her mouth now.

The older boy starts going faster making the girl also go faster, a chain reaction, earning praise from Nico, humming in pleasure. “Ah.. fuck Libby.. your mouth feels so fucking good,” he says as the grip on her hair tightens. Tristan resisted the urge to say that he knew that, and she should too, considering the many times that Tristan said it during their night together.

Libby pulls Nico’s cock out of her mouth to plead and uses her hand to replace the movement, “Fuck Tristan please don’t stop,” and he had no intention to. Libby starts to open her mouth again but before she could insert Nico’s dick back inside, from slight jealousy, Nico pulls near the ends of her hair forcing Libby to look upwards and widen her already opened mouth, allowing Nico to see the tears building up in her eyes.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous when you’re not being a bitch,” were the last words Nico said before placing his dick on her tongue. “Mmm.. yeah that’s it keep.. agh.. going,” Nico said, “fucking throat that shit”.

Nico’s more vocal than Tristan when it came to this, or maybe that’s just a special case for Libby. After all, their bonding sessions only consisted of bickering, so it’d be rare for Nico to be silent around Libby.

Tristan slapped Libby’s ass as he starts feeling his climax, throwing his head back. Nico strokes Libby’s cheek before cupping it, admiring her beauty while locking eyes with her. Their entire relationship would change after this, as saying “i hate you” to each other would be a complete lie now.

Tristan starts to feel Libby’s walls clench around him and Nico starts to stop feeling his legs.

Libby pulls out again to yell a “Ahh.. y-yes please.. m-more..!”, stroking Nico’s dick faster before throating it more. A few minutes go by before Libby hums with satisfaction around the cock in her mouth, earning a collective of pants from the younger boy, and from the older one as he feels the evidence of Libby’s high when shortly after, Tristan finishes too, but continues thrusting nonetheless, earning what he can from this.

“I’m..” was all Nico could say before he starts shooting his strings of fluid into the back of Libby’s throat, then pulls out, letting the pillows behind him capture his fall. A series of pants is heard throughout the room from the 3 people.