#I think about this all the time and I finally bit that bullet and wrote it out

[igotanidea]

Bound by business: Jason Todd x reader

Summary: Jason x information dealer reader. He only came for the info, but one thing led to another, a bit of whiskey and some teasing and - .... And she's a self made gotham.boss bitch falling for no one...

Warnings: SMUT MDNI!, dirty talk, p in v, teasing, angst

A/N : Been a while since I wrote smut and a story this long. Let me down gently. XD

***

It was dark and the rain was heavy, doing nothing to hide Jason’s irritation as he speeded on his motorcycle to the bad side of Gotham if there was any good side of Gotham in the first place.

Once having reached his destination, he took his helmet off letting rain wet his ruffled hair and started banging on the door.

His contact in the criminal world had been hard lately and he had no idea why, but the reasons behind the sudden change in the attitude were far from his interest.

HE and Y/N had a long history, went way back to the times when he was Robin and she was a good girl, both memories seeming like a fucking grotesque now.

“Y/N! Open the fuck up!”

“The hell Jason?!”

The door opened but she made no move to invite him inside despite the downpour on the outside. Instead she settled on watching him shake the water off like a dog, deriving some sadistic pleasure from the fact he could barely see with his hair stuck to his forehead and falling into his eyes.  

“The gun shipment. Tonight. I need details. Time, place, figures involved.

“Well hello to you too, Jason. I’ve been fine thanks for asking.” She scoffed and then smirked.

“I don’t have time for this shit-“

“Right, right, of course. I probably should thank you for not putting a gun to my head right away, right?”

“That is to be rectified at any moment now.” He reached towards his holster.

“Don’t be stupid, Jason. You know you only get this far with things because of me. You don’t want to lose an ally, do you?”

“You’re just an information dealer. Plenty of those in Gotham.”

“Mhm. Sure. And how many of them are as skilled as I am?”

He scoffed, pushing right past her, casually shrugging off his jacket and tossing it on the couch.

“Yeah by all means, ruin my furniture. Drink?” she asked, heading towards the cabinet

“Whiskey. Neat.”

“Wow, someone finally developed some standards. What gives?”

Jason scoffed again.

“Standards, my ass. It’s at your expense so why would I hold back?”

“I might hold you accountable to that in the future. Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

The glasses clinked and for a moment they both sipped their drinks in silence which gave Jason a second to actually look at her. She was a badass, that was what he knew. But every time he came around to her place, which was not really happening that often, she was almost innocent. Ironically. No make up, comfy clothes, just hoodie and yoga pants. He had seen women try harder to look I-woke-up-like-this.

Y/N was just being comfortable. 

“What’s with the look Jace?” she smirked from under the rim of her glass, her eyes piercing into him.

“I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

“About why you are suddenly not giving me shit.”

“It’s been a long day if you must know. Long and hard day. My shit giving attitude and my humor might be a little off. ”

“Huh!” he huffed dismissively “hard day? You want to hear about a hard day? The one involving guns and fights? And being stabbed with a knife? Twice?“

“We all have our own definition of a hard day, you fool. You deal with bullets, I deal with people.”

“So you’re basically saying that people are worse than guns? Seriously? Damn, girl you got some audacity there.” He half-laughed, taking another sip of the whiskey and swirling the beverage “so, spill. Which one of your usual charming assholes got under your skin?”

“Luckily someone I do not have any respect for.”

“You have respect for no one, sunshine. But please, do tell. Did you kick him in the groin or punched him in the face?”

“Something like that.” She smirked, clearly so full of herself.

“Please tell me you at least broke his nose.”

“I did no permanent damage, that's all I can say.”

“Meaning you did something painful, but not crippling.” He nodded. He was actually learning to use the same method. Putting a gun to people's heads and shooting them dead was not very useful while searching for info. But then again, he had Y/N for that latter purpose. “Black eye? Twisted arm?”

“I thought you came here about the gun shipment info?” she finally sat on the couch and turned to face him with a hint of tease in her eyes.

“I did. But should it stop me from having a little polite conversation with my favorite partner in crime?” Jason leaned back on the coach with a sly smile

“Mh! I call bullshit.”

“How’s your hand doing?”

The question took her by surprise. Right, the hand, of course he knew about it. She got injured during one of her quests last week and has been dealing with the consequences ever since.

“I’m handling.”

“Uh!” Jason raised his hand stopping her in the middle of the sentence “Let me translate: it hurts like hell but you won’t admit it.” Y/N would never confront her pain – neither physical nor emotional. And yes, he was doing the same but it was easier to notice it in someone else than in himself. “So, given the state of that limb you must have got to that asshole pretty hard. Good job, I’ll give you that. It’s not every day I get to hear about your violent tendencies….” He chuckled and sipped the last of his drink, putting the glass back on the table, his eyes fixed on hers with a mischief in them.

“Oh you know damn well about my violent tendencies…”

“Damn right I do. And don’t I just love every fucking one of them…” his voice dropped an octave as he leaned forward, never dropping the gaze.  “Nothing sexier than a woman who can handle herself…”

“Oh yeah?” she allowed him the sudden closeness, clearly enjoying the blooming game “never took you for a guy who loved being manhandled..”

“Oh I am not. But I’m a sucker for watching someone deserving of it experiencing that treatment.” Jason's gaze moved down her body appreciatively, lingering on the swell of her breast under the hoodie and the curve of her hips accentuated by that stupid leggings. He knew she had curves under all those clothes. “It’s a fucking turn on.” He added in a husky tone. 

“Is it now…?” she hummed moving a little closer on the couch, her own drink landing on the table as well as she placed palms on his thighs, using it to lean even more forwards, leaving less than an inch between their faces.

“Fuck yeah it is…” his breath caught in his throat a little at the unexpected but not unwelcomed touch. “Seeing you lay someone down with those gorgeous hands of yours….” He licked his lips.

“Mhm… keep talking…” Y/N switched positions, now sitting on his lap, straddling him, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck and he instinctively grabbed onto her hips.  Gods, he was a man and suddenly realized how long it’s been since he had a one night stand, too busy with work.

But this?

This was getting dangerous and deep down he knew that once started, wouldn’t end up easily.

This was not going to be just scratching an itch like it usually was. This would hurt a lot and mixing business with pleasure was never a good idea.

But he couldn’t stop, the primal part of his brain already awakened by the closeness of her body, her almost gentle caresses and the soft, sweet yet seductive tone he had never heard before but she had mastered to perfection.

“I said…” she leaned to his ear “keep talking…”

“Fucks…” he groaned staring at her with undisguised lust “the though of you getting dirty… rough….”

“Uh-huh…” she hummed and started grinding on him. Slowly, almost torturously, causing Jason to take a sharp inhale of breath, but quickly composing himself.

“You always fight like that, princess?” his hands wandered from her hips to her ass, squeezing the ample flesh, pulling her closer to the bulge in his pants.

“Only for the special ones.”

 “Special ones, huh?” he held her hips tighter guiding her movements “Like when you want to prove a point? Or-“

“Or. Definitely or.”

She threw her head back, exposing her neck, giving him not-so-subtle hints.

“Or when you want to send a message?” he willingly moved his lips down her skin, sucking on the pulse points, earning a little, delicious moan and hand tangling in his hair. “A message that you’re taken?”

“Am I taken? Can’t remember…” she pulled back, taking off her hoodie and discarding her bra.

“Fuck yeah, you’re taken.” His lips moved lower, kissing her collarbone and cleavage.

“Good to know…” she made a quick movement to pull and toss his shirt somewhere in the room intensifying her movements on his ever growing tent “I think the gun shipment changed the location…”

“You fucking tease.” Jason hissed, changing the positions so she was trapped beneath his body. “Eight inches. Semi-automatic. Brand new and ready for action.”

“Well don’t I love being at a gunpoint…” her hand found a way to his groin, starting to palm the bulge, enjoying the way she seemed to still be in control, even with him on top.

“Oh yeah? A gun to your head?” he groaned, barely controlling himself.

“Maybe not to my head…”

Y/N wriggled on the bed, rolling on her belly for a moment to reach for the condom in the nightstand and that moment was enough for Jason to get hypnotized by that bounding piece of ass.

“I really hope the biggest size will fit you—”

“Fuck, I’ll stuff you so full you won’t walk for a week.”

He pushed her legs open with his knee, doing a quick job of rolling the latex on his length, teasing her clit with a few featherlight touches, loving how she seemed to beg for more with every squirm and entered her in one deep thrust.

“Big enough for you?” he bit her earlobe licking the shell right after, his voice low.  

“I – mmm… shit…”

“Have you ever had this big?” The thrusts were long and hard and deliciously painful at first before turning into a series of perfectly aimed and ideally paced movements that made her gasp from pleasure. “Answer the question, princess.”

“I – ah! Ah, shit!” nails of the right hand dug into the mattress hard enough to make holes, the other hand reaching for the pillow, quickly pressing it between her head and the headboard to prevent the potential concussion. He was not a semi-automatic gun machine. More like a rifle, never shooting blanks. Thank fucks, she was prepared in many ways and started taking pills a few weeks prior. Not that it was her plan or anything. 

“What was that?” he rocked faster and harder, pulling all the way back only to slam right back inside. “Too much for you, slut?”

“Make me come! Make me fucking come to give me incentive to answer that stupid question!”

“Seems to me like I’m fucking your brains out. Is that right, pretty? Am I fucking you stupid?”

“Fuck!”

“Yeah… you’re so fucked, baby.” He was now hitting her cervix with such a speed and strength as if his life was depending on it. “Fucked by no. One. Else. But. The. Red. Hood.“ Each word was punctuated by a deep movement and if someone asked she would swear it was reaching her stomach. Or maybe she just ate something bad.

“It’s an – ohhh! – oh shit!” she gasped, unable to finish the sentence for a moment. “It’s an honor for you to have me like this….” There was no way she was going to let him win and really fuck her stupid.

“Oh I know… But no one else is big and strong enough for you” he circled her clit, bending head to suck her nipple, leaving a wet trail from one breast to another “now, come for me… come baby…”

She bit her lips so hard that a blood appeared on the bottom one, quickly licking it off, turning Jason wild. He was a sucker for blood. Not only the shooting kind, clearly.

“Yeah…. Yeah…oh! Oh!”

She could feel his pace faltering a little as he was so close to his own climax.

And used it against him, hitting right into the momentum, somehow managing to end up on top of him again, hands on his chest, breasts bouncing, ass slapping on his cock as she rocked up and down, still in control.

“Fuck! Y/n!”

“Yeah, yeah that’s right, moan my name as you come Jason Todd. Red Hood. Whatever. Scream my name.”

“You- where did you learn how to take cock like that—”

“You wouldn’t like the answer. Now come on!” It was immensely hard to keep herself from diving into the sea of release but she knew how to get what she wanted. Years of effing experience in this fucked up place.  

His hands were on her ass, squeezing mercilessly, almost to the point of pain as he finally reached the stars.

Only then she allowed herself to let go as well. Winning, yet again, falling on top of him like a marathon runner who scored a gold medal even if there were truly no losers in this game of love. At least not in terms of the body.

“Damn… you’re heavy…” he hissed, wrapping arms around her, trapping her on top of him, nuzzling nose into her hair. She was right with him, next to him, so warm and soft and tender, making him feel so good, so nice, so liberated.

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy my fat ass bouncing on you.”

“Too tired to even try to pretend.” He whispered, trying to kiss her softly, but much to his surprise, she rolled off him, swiftly avoiding his grip, grabbed the hoodie from the floor and stood up fixing her hair, letting it fall down her back like a h/c waterfall.

“Well this was nice.” Her tone was flat, unamused and the warmth in his chest turned into icy cold right away.

“Wait… what? But-“

“I’m gonna go piss now. Can’t risk any STIs. Those hurt like hell, not to mention it’s kind of embarrassing explaining to my Ob-gyn why I wasn’t careful again. I swear one more time and she’ll drop me as a patient.”

Was this a joke to her!?

“But-“ he stuttered looking at her with wide eyes. This was not what he expected at all and there were like a million questions in his head.  “Y/n-“

“I’ll be right back, but hey – hygiene right? You should get yourself cleaned too” she grabbed the towel from the rack and threw it on him, effectively flattening his still semi-hard cock and his appetite and energy for another round.

“But –“

“This is serious shit Jason! Gotta stay healthy if we’re to repeat it.”

She winked suggestively, rushing to the bathroom, leaving a little crack in the door, so he could faintly hear her peeing.

What was wrong with this girl!?

This must have been just some stupid nightmare, a product of his tired, messed up, beaten brain--

“So. You wanted to talk about something?” she was back about a minute later. “hey, you still didn’t clean up?”

“Are you always like this?”

“Like what?” she touched her right buttock and hissed at the contact with a scratch his hands left on the skin.

“This no-nonsense attitude!”

“What else do you want me to do?” she tilted her head, looking at him quizzically

 “Oh I don’t know!” he finally lost his patience, feeling too vulnerable and too emotional for his own liking, feeling the compelling need to cover himself. Both physically and emotionally. “Normally people like to – oh, I don’t know – talk after sex? Maybe cuddle a little? But you’re just like oh, hey, it was a nice fuck, thanks for letting me use you, dressing and washing up like a freaking germophobe!” he got tangled in his pants, hardly preventing himself from tripping which would be even more condescending.

“Jason-“

“I’m being serious here Y/N!”

‘You called me slut.” She deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.

‘I called you – ok, fine! Fine I called you slut. Is that why you’re suddenly icing me out?”

“No.”

“No!? That’s it? That’s all you got? I can’t fucking believe it!” he punched the wall leaving a little dent, but the broken pride clearly did not affect Y/N.

“Could you please calm down and stop depriving me of my deposit on this place? I’d appreciate it.”

“You’re fucking unbelievable!”

“I don’t understand why you’re being so emotional about it Jason.” It might have been a mirage but from Jason’s perspective it looked like Y/N literally rolled her eyes!

“We had sex!”

“Yes? and?” She hesitated giving him a chance to explain further but he was just standing there with eyes wide and mouth open. “Oh come on, this was just an itch, right? We’re bound by business, not pleasure. You don’t mix two explosives like us. It’s just unwise. We’re both adults, sex is not always about deeper feelings-”

She was still talking but he could hardly hear anything with the way blood was humming in his ears, successfully blocking any other bullshit coming out of her mouth (thankfully for Jason though).

Bound by business.

Mixing explosives.

Unwise.

Unwise!

Fucking unwise!?

“Jason?” she smiled softly, as if nothing happened, bending down and searching his eyes. “That gun shipment of yours? It happens in an hour at the docks and everything is orchestrated by Black Mask. I would take some backup if I were you, it might get ugly.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

Without any further words he walked outside, feeling defeated like never before and the nail to the coffin was the sound of the door being locked right after him.

He should have known better that a girl who climbed this high in the criminal underworld would be fucked up in some way.

But how can one prepare for the reality of the broken heart?

Back up his ass. He was about to turn his newly found pain into rage and kill each and every one of Sionis’ men himself.

The moon was about to turn bloody that night….

And the worst part?

She was still his information dealer. The best in Gotham, regardless of what he might have said before.

And he was still going to work with her.

Do you know that warning : don’t drink and drive or better : don’t drink and text?

Yep.

Another one should be the warning of developing feelings for your literal partner in crime. 

@lettucel0ver @oohyasumi @apple---cider---vinegar

[cq-studios]

Haven’t posted in a hot sec and the brain rot never left, so how about some UX magic headcannons/theories (def leaning into HCs tho) with some evidence?

Before we get into the meat of this post, a quick disclaimer. I made this post with my own knowledge from playing the game (in 2020 and later) and the KHUX Wiki. I tried my best to check as much as I can but there’s just so much there’s no way every attack animation for every medal level was archived and watched by me. If I get something wrong let me know so I can make addendums.

And with that out of the way…

Have you ever noticed how flashy all the spells (and special attacks in general) in UX are? Like these kids are constantly throwing explosions and other big magical displays around. Almost all of them are akin to endgame spells in other games. Think Trinity Limit, or the BBS room clearer spells.

On top of that, from what it looks like on the KHUX Wiki, out of the levelled (-ra, -ga etc.) spells we see in other games, Cure is the only one that is stated to have different levels. The rest (Blizzard, Fire, Thunder, and Aero) are all in the “-ga” level, even on 1 star medals

^ Source ^

(Raging Blizzard isn’t actually magic, just a physical attack, still flashy tho)

So what point am I trying to make?

Well, all of this seems to point (to me at least) towards the fact that magic during this time was less controlled. And when you take into consideration the fact that it was very unlikely these kids were properly trained it kind of makes sense. It’s very likely that a lot of the magic here is figured out by the wielder themself or by another wielder who had figured it out and showed them how.

(Which is fun, since the longer the game was up the faster you got powerful spells, which in a way kinda makes it like you are learning the more impressive spells faster because other people had been wielders longer and had more time to figure things out)

The flashiness of everything can be explained by that too. I mean, they’re all kids after all. You mean to tell me that they’re not making everything as extra and explosive as possible to show off? Especially in the power centric place of Daybreak Town?

And if you’re thinking “well what about the other high level spells then? The ones in the other games”, I have an answer for you too. I was thrown a loop for a bit with that too because it doesn’t make much sense. Like even in Dark Road, in the same app, has the proper spell progression. But that got me thinking, what if the -ga versions of those 4 spells are the default and the “basic” versions of the spells are ones toned down for training.

Because when you think of it, we’ve never actually seen/played as a wielder who hasn’t had proper training, other than Player of course (and Roxas/Xion, who are exceptions, I’ll get to them). We’ve already touched on DR. The Wayfinder Trio are all trained by Eraqus, Vanitas by Xehanort. Sora is taught by Donald, Riku by Maleficent presumably (Dark Firaga is a tell for me). Roxas and Xion, while technically not being taught magic by anyone, already had some subconscious stuff from Sora.

So, you know, it’s possible.

Anyways that’s my thoughts. Probably not organized well because my brain’s not organized well today lol

I tried

[exocaliii]

❦︎ You've Been Walking, You've Been Hiding

(pt. 1) (pt. 2)

| Kang No-eul / Guard 011 x fem!reader |

side! | Se-mi / Played 380 x fem!reader |

Summary: For six years, you've watched your best friend and only companion mourn a child she barely got to know. Now, you're given a chance to finally rid her of this lifelong guilt.

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: mentions of self harm, death, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, occasional use of Y/N even though I try my best to avoid it lol, some jealousy and yearning, very plot heavy guys no porn this time...

A/N: first fic yay!! it's incredibly plot heavy (like seriously look at the word count man I haven't even reached the Mingle game yet😭😭) and tbh i've already written most of pt 2 (which dives far more into the romance part), but please please lmk what you think so far!! :D seriously any comments or messages or whatever are appreciated!! this is the "I wrote this cuz no one else did" fic

—

It’s been nine years since you've met her, and she’s still the most beautiful woman you know.

Her head is tilted back, shallow breaths filling the silence. You don’t make a move until you see tears flow down her cheeks, and by the time she raises an arm to cover her face, you’re already by her side. There are no words or even glances shared as you use the sleeve of your jacket to wipe the tears off her cheek. Though, for a split second as your hand lowers, you swear you see her head tilt in your direction, and maybe you’re hallucinating it (god knows what could happen after two bottles of whatever hard liquor that was) but your eyes meet for a brief second.

It’s a bit too much for you, and you need this night to end. Besides, you had someone to meet. She knows that.

“It’s late, Eul.”

It’s an unspoken suggestion for her to drive you home, but she doesn’t move - just looks over at you with a heated gaze and that’s all it takes. Whatever emotion she was trying to express is unknown to you, but it’s familiar in a way that deeply disturbs you. You’re the last person she should be looking at like that.

“...Alright then,” you whisper, placing your head on her shoulder. She doesn’t react, but she doesn’t move to push you off either. You should leave. You both know this.

God, you’re pathetic.

—

250 million won.

Fucking scammers. Who could even pay that much?

Your meeting with the head of some shady smuggling group based in North Korea went… alright. They were willing to help, but less optimistic than the last. What really went wrong was the price they were charging to help search for No-eul’s baby. Even if you worked your current job for 16 hours a day for an entire year straight, you wouldn’t have enough.

The thought of seeing her hope dwindling once again made you want to pull your hair out.

Perhaps it was this heartache that made you call the number on that card.

—

She’s known about the games for six years.

She signed up to kill people every summer for five years.

Today is the first day she’s genuinely, completely thrown off guard.

When she twists the scope of her rifle, she almost accidentally fires a bullet straight into your face with a twitch of her hand. Even after leaning back and rubbing her face in exasperation at her own mind supposedly playing tricks on her, she leans back into the familiar pad of the rifle to see your face once again. You look the same as the last time she saw you, which was barely two days ago. The strain in your face, the fear that twists your expression into one she recognizes from seven years ago - God, what the fuck did you get yourself into?

She lets out a shaky breath and readjusts her grip, her nerves making her hands quiver just enough that she has to lean back again to roll her head to relieve some of the newfound tension in her neck. When she finally lays her cheek back against the rifle, she’s quick to refocus her attention to another player, one that 012 (or was it 010?) failed to kill. It’s a disgusting ordeal, but she deals with it the only way she knows how to, even as her mind wanders.

Survive this game, Y/N. Do not leave me behind.

—

All you can do is clutch the number on your chest - 037 - after what had just happened. After you watched a woman’s blood splatter onto a young man right next to you. After you watched him flinch and die moments later, right at your feet. It feels like a fever dream when money begins to drop into the piggy bank above the room, and you’re told each 100 million won added was somebody’s life.

That woman and the boy were, combined, only 200 million won to the pile. You want to vomit.

You drown out so much of it, but when you hear talk of money being passed out to the “winners” of the game you all just played, you’re disturbed to find it’s only reached about 75 million. You’re even more disturbed by your immediate desire for more, more money to fill the pig’s empty stomach (and more lives lost, apparently).

When it comes time to vote, you can’t bring yourself to care much about the man who claims he had played these games before. His pleas mean nothing to you, not when you have 250 million won to conjure up in the next month to continue the search for No-eul’s sweet daughter. You hesitate for only a split second before you hit the O, and you force yourself to drown out the fearful cries to your left as well as the howls from the hungry wolves to your right.

A blue patch is placed over your chest, but you do not cheer with the rest of your side.

—

When night comes, sleep refuses to come to you. It feels like a punishment now, especially as you look at the young girl just diagonal to you. 095. She shakes like a baby in her bed, and the red X on her sweater shows you why.

Have you damned this poor girl to death? Maybe even the kind old lady lying across from her?

The sick feeling in your gut prompts you to get up and head over to the side door. Three knocks prompts nothing but silence, but you refuse to give up so easily. With another set of knocks on the door, this time hard enough to make sure the guard on the other side (at least you hoped there was even anyone on the other side) heard you, you spoke up.

“I’m sorry, I don’t feel well, can I please-”

Without you saying another word, the door practically swings open.

Standing across from you is a pink guard with a triangle mask. The rifle at their side draws your attention immediately, and some paranoid part of your mind wonders if they only opened the door so they could shoot you for interrupting their quiet time. However, the guard surprisingly only takes a small step to the side after a strangely tense silence.

“...Thank you…”

You scuttle past them and immediately head to the bathroom. The moment you enter, you rush to the sink, turn on the faucet, and let a stream of icy cold water fall from your cupped hands onto your face. For a second, this helps your heart rate slow.

What brings it back up is the sound of the door opening, and what spikes it is the fact that it’s not a fellow player that walks into the silent bathroom, but the guard. Based on their height alone, you can tell it’s the same one. This is even more frightening somehow.

Did you do something wrong? Should you have just stayed in bed? Why did you pick-

“Why are you here?!” The guard’s raspy voice interrupts your thoughts. Her question (you now realize it’s a woman) was just barely quiet enough to not be considered a yell, but the frantic nature of it still makes you blank out. You’re so afraid that you end up completely missing the familiarity your body feels at the sound of her voice.

“I-I’m sorry ma’am, I just need to wash my face, I’ll-”

You’re interrupted once again by the guard’s movements, but this time, she’s practically ripping down the red hood of her jacket to pull off her mask. She doesn’t even need to take off her face covering by that point, because a single short glance at her eyes, the ones you knew so well, were enough.

“No-eul…,” you choke out, staring as she pulls the face covering down completely to reveal the face you’ve known for nine years. Her hair is sweaty and sticks to her face in a way that you recognize from her summer shifts at the fair.

Seeing her here is only comforting for a short moment though, because the pink of her uniform against the green of yours is still visible in your peripheral as you take in her confused, almost panicked expression. Her eyes scan your face for an answer, not nearly as patient as she typically is, and when you refuse to even make a sound, she takes a small step closer.

“Answer me. You shouldn’t- God.” She runs her gloved fingers through her hair in poorly hidden frustration as she sighs and turns away for a split second. “You shouldn’t be here. Not in a place like this.”

You don’t respond, but she can very much see the frown on your face after that last statement.

“Then what the hell are you doing here?” It doesn’t take much for you to regain your snarkiness, but it clearly throws her off guard.

“It’s just a temporary job, and you know why I need it, so answer me.”

Yes, you know full well why she needs it.

“...I need it too, Eul.” It’s not enough for her. You sigh before accepting your fate. “She needs it.”

For a second, there’s silence. She’s confused, and you watch as the gears turn in her head and she slowly comes to understand the intentions behind your words - understands the blue O plastered on your sweater. Somewhere in the blank expression she’s trying so hard to keep up, you can spot the shame, the guilt, and the sadness washing over her at the realization.

“Don’t look at me like you pity me. This was my choice to make.” I don’t regret it.

When she fails to even acknowledge what you just said, you simply sigh and move over to the wall, sitting down with your legs pulled close to your body. As if it were muscle memory, she joins you a moment later.

For what feels like forever, you two sit in silence and stare at each other. She can’t stop glancing down at the patch on your chest, and you can’t stop glancing at the mask she placed at her side. When she notices this, her expression gets even more shameful, and she lowers her head.

“Eul…” She doesn’t answer you, but you hear the soft exhale she releases when she hears your voice. “Eul, I don’t blame you.”

You reach over in a bold move and take her gloved hands. They’re mostly steady, but you know her too well by now. Even the slightest tremor is enough for you to practically feel the shame washing over her in waves. When you attempt to hold eye contact with her again, she breaks it uncharacteristically fast.

“You should’ve never come here.”

You sigh heavily and as she begins to pull her hands back, you tighten your grip on them and lean forward.

“I want to find her, No-eul. Please let me try.”

She’s damned you, just as she damned her daughter. She’s sure of it.

—

Whilst others around you are quickly gathering into groups, you find yourself lost in the crowd. No one pays you any mind as they shove past you to team up with people they had been interacting with, but what could you do when you’ve really just been ignoring most of the people here?

It’s humiliating when you find yourself inching towards a group of men that side-eye you and turn away before you can even ask to join their group. To be fair, if you were them, you probably wouldn’t want the meek girl in the corner either. It’s life or death, and you can’t blame them for picking the former. All you can do is sigh and turn away, but before you can go far, a hand gently grabs your upper arm and spins you around.

“Hey, you have a team yet?”

380.

She’s a girl you made eye contact with only once, right before your late night trip to the bathroom. From her appearance, you would’ve expected her voice to be a lot more gruff, but it’s soft and gentle and draws you in immediately. In a place like this, it's normal that you find yourself easily drawn to any sense of safety you can find (especially when your usual safe haven is hidden behind a mask that dozens of others are wearing - others that are probably far more willing to shoot you in the head for trying to stick to them).

“No.” An awkward silence fills the space between you two before you remember why she’s even asking such a question in the first place. “Do you want to…”

You don’t get to finish that question - thank god - before she chuckles and shakes her head slightly, answering you by taking you by the hand and dragging you over to her group.

Standing with her back against the wall, an armed guard keeps her eyes trained on your every movement. When 380 takes you by the hand, her grip on her rifle tightens just barely.

—

In a twisted way, you almost found the last game to be fun. The cheers of the spectators, 380’s tight grip on your arm and quiet encouragement after you failed the first round of gonggi, it’s all kindness and attention you never typically receive. You can almost bring yourself to completely ignore the fact that you’re pretty sure you just got yourself thrown in with a group of two drug addicts (you don’t know how they managed to sneak substances into this seemingly sterile environment, but it’s very obvious they succeeded in some capacity).

What wasn’t fun, however, was watching the previous losers get gunned down by people in the same outfit as the woman you were empathizing with just last night. You’re actually 99% sure she was one of them, which makes it that much worse. You pity those who lost, and for a second, as you watch a young boy fall to the ground with blood seeping out from a single hole above his heart, you feel an indescribable hatred towards those putting these people down like dogs.

But then No-eul’s face flashes in your mind and you feel the ghost of her hands on yours, and it all fades away.

“What’s your name?” Your train of thought is interrupted by a soft and familiar voice. You turn to face 380 and are slightly thrown off at the sight of 230, 124, and 125 also waiting expectedly. Albeit with some hesitance, you give them your full name, and 380 nods in acknowledgment.

“I’m Se-mi.” Her choice to leave out her surname isn’t lost on you, but you ignore it for now. After all, you don’t really know this woman, and she doesn’t know you.

“Two beautiful names for two pretty girls.” Maybe you should’ve left out your surname as well. “I’m the legend: Thanos! I’ll revive half the world with my lyrics, so watch out.”

After Thano’s little declaration, you couldn’t really pay attention to the other two (Min-su and Nam-gyu, if your memory serves you well). The short shy boy that had been trailing Se-mi when she asked you to join the team was just as quiet as he was before, but now that you’re really paying attention, you realize that he bears a striking resemblance to someone you knew.

Laughter rings out as you chase him through the yard. Short legs, shorter than yours, don’t take him too far before your open palm collides with his small back, causing him to practically faceplant into the dirt. His muffled cries come out soon after, and even with your sorry attempts to soothe him, your aunt still comes running out, scolding you for playing so roughly with her young son.

It’s the last time you’ll see them, even if you didn’t realize it then.

You break your gaze away as you shift uncomfortably at the sudden memory - 125 is not your cousin, he’s a stranger.

You glance around the room for a bit before deciding you’ve sufficiently distracted yourself. When you draw your focus back towards Se-mi, you see her staring off into the distance as well, having made the wonderful decision to not pay attention to the drug-riddled rambling of the rapper who had become the de-facto leader of the group. As if she can sense your gaze, she breaks her staring contest with the wall across the room to turn her head in your direction.

As your eyes meet again, you don’t look away, and you’re pretty sure she smiles a bit at this.

Smug.

—

When it’s time to vote yet again, you’re just as set on your choice as you were before. The guilt of voting for the games to continue even after seeing 095 cry and beg for her life weighs heavy on your heart, but the money just isn’t quite enough for you to quit yet.

When you drag yourself back over to the side cheering and throwing their fists in the air for the death games to continue, you have to stop for a second and close your eyes.

No-eul’s face is so clear in your mind, and so is every memory you have of her crying over her lost daughter.

It’s easier to stand with these people when you remember what you’re fighting for.

—

Even with the confidence you felt in your choice, your guilt isn’t dispelled and you can barely bring yourself to eat the dinner provided to you. You push around the egg with your spoon, head cradled in your hand as you stare down at the ground; it’s a pitiful scene, and you’re probably scaring off any potential future teammates, but in the moment, you truly couldn’t care less.

“Does it taste that bad?” The voice is teasing, and you immediately know who it is before she even sits down beside you.

“I’m not hungry right now, that’s all.”

“Bullshit,” she says with a laugh, and you finally look up from the speck on the floor just to shoot her a dirty look. She responds with a mischievous one in kind. “You feel bad or something? Starving yourself isn’t gonna change the vote on your chest.”

With a heavy sigh, you shove a spoonful of rice in your mouth just to shut her up, but all you do is earn another laugh from her. It’s a nice sound to hear, but you'd jam your spoon into your neck before admitting something like that to her.

“Where are the other three?”

She raises a brow and slightly leans back, revealing Min-su almost tucked into her side like a shaking child. If you all didn’t share your ages earlier, you would've thought he was only in his late teens with the way he was acting. “Thanos and Nam-gyu are digging into their candy stash again, if you know what I mean.”

A loud unprompted Woo! C’mon Man! from across the room confirms her answer, and you scoff.

“Addicts.” Another laugh from her, and finally, you’ve decided that you’ve had enough with trying to eat when your body damn near wants to reject it. “So, why are you here then?”

“Same as everybody else,” she looks over at you with an expression that says ‘obviously.’ “I’ve got some debt I’m trying to get rid of.”

You’re about to clarify that you actually meant to ask her why she was here, next to you and not why she was participating in a bunch of death games, but you push that thought aside for now. Curiosity takes over as your eyes try to uncover something, anything in her expression.

Piercings, careless attitude, but her eyes are soft when she looks at you and Min-su. She seems smart enough. Beautiful as well. How the hell did someone like her get into enough debt to want to participate in something like this?

“Aren’t you afraid of dying though?” It’s a weirdly deep question that you regret asking as soon as it leaves your mouth, but she only does her signature smirk before answering you.

“There are plenty of things out there that can kill me too. This place isn’t so different.” Except for the fact that you’re now living with the possibility of being shot for failing a kids’ game, but alright, you can accept that answer. When faced with your silence after her answer, Se-mi lifts a hand to gently grab the blue patch on your chest, examining it with apparent interest.

“How about you? Why did you choose to die?”

It’s an incredibly morbid way to put it even though from her tone, you can tell she’s obviously joking. Either way, it makes you grimace and destroys the confident demeanor you tried to hold up to match with hers. What could you say to a question like that? That you signed up to get money for someone else? That you could maybe even have lived a debt-free, semi-peaceful life without this other person, but you would rather die without her?

“It’s… yeah, it’s debt money for me too.” The lie leaves your mouth easily, but Se-mi doesn’t look convinced at all. Her doubtful gaze burns holes into the side of your face, and you’re beginning to desperately search for something to take her attention off you. Your reprieve comes in the form of the slight movement you spot behind her.

You don’t actually know this woman, and for now, you don’t intend to.

“Min-su, how about you?” Her intense gaze finally breaks, and she shifts to look at Min-su as well.

“Huh?”

“Why are you here?” You force your voice to be softer this time, less urgent to match with his jumpy nature. He’s calmer now, but there’s still shame evident in his expression even though he hasn’t even told you two anything yet.

“I… I just had some student loans, that’s all.” Se-mi makes the same face she made at you towards him and he winces, obviously unwilling to spill his secrets. You almost feel bad for the guy, especially with the way Se-mi is beginning to pester him a bit now. Seems like two unnecessarily vague answers were pushing her buttons a bit, and the idea that you’ve managed to irk this carefree woman is kind of satisfying.

After a while of listening to their back and forth (which mainly consisted of Min-su asking Se-mi how she’s so calm in ten different ways), out of pure boredom, you decide to test the waters one last time.

“It’s not really debt money for me.”

This catches their attention straight away, and Se-mi looks far more interested in this answer than your previous one. You drop your eyes back to the ground in preparation for your admission.

“Then what’s it for?”

“I’m planning on giving all the money I win to someone else. They’ll use it for their own... personal reasons.” Not exactly the full truth, but it’s part of it and you think she deserves at least that after recruiting you to her team.

For a second, you expect laughter to break out right in your face. You prepare to answer questions about why you would risk your life for someone else’s goal, but it never comes. Instead, when you look back up, all you see are two pairs of understanding eyes, not a hint of mockery in their gaze.

If anything, Se-mi almost looks proud of your answer.

“Actually… I joined the game to try and help my mom out a bit, that’s all. I wasn’t able to get a good job after school, so I want to make up for it.” Min-su’s words sound like those of a young boy still trying to understand the world around him. “I’m all she’s got left now.”

What was someone like him doing in an evil place like this?

“Man, you two are making me feel kinda bad,” Se-mi says, chuckling to herself before leaning back a bit to look at you square in the face.

She doesn’t doubt Min-su’s story, and even though she doubted yours for a split second, she sees nothing but genuine honesty and a hint of embarrassment in your eyes. This revelation fills her with relief, and for the first time, she spares you both a genuine smile.

“I figured you two were nice, generous people when we teamed up.” The newfound but genuine friendliness she exudes surprises you, but it’s a welcome change. “I’m glad I might just be right, and I’m hanging out with some good people for once.”

“Well, I hope I could say the same about you.”

She throws her head back in laughter at this, and you begin to think that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to know these people after all.

—

“Can I use the bathroom please?”

This time, you don’t bother to knock, and as expected, your voice is all she needs to open the door and step aside. It was actually surprisingly quick this time too, as if she had been waiting on the other side already.

The air is tense, a feeling you never really associated with No-eul, but it’s late and the earlier conversation you had with your two new friends didn’t do much to dispel your undying anxiety about tomorrow. You can feel her gaze on you even from behind that mask, but you pay her no mind as you rush your wet hands across your reddened face and hair. The cooling effect is instant, and now, you finally feel ready to face her.

“Take off the mask, please.” Your voice is more exasperated than you intended it to be, but you can’t cover up the fatigue you’ve been feeling since the start of the games. It’s probably more of an emotional exhaustion thing, but you don’t want to think about all that right now.

As she’s going through the process of removing the layers covering her face from you, you begin heading over to the far end of the bathroom, eventually dropping to the floor with a heavy sigh. She’s staring at you expectedly.

“The gloves too.”

She doesn’t protest or even sigh, simply pulling them off her hands before shoving them into the pockets of her pink tracksuit. She takes this opportunity to run her fingers through her hair, bangs previously stuck to her face being pushed back out of the way. In that process, she reveals a red, clearly fresh cut on the side of her face. You practically jump up from the floor and stomp right back over to her.

“What the fuck happened?”

“Don’t worry, it was just a tussle with some of the other guards.” Your hands gingerly cup her face as you tilt it to examine the wound. She can feel her skin tingle where your fingertips gingerly graze it. “I handled it.”

You sigh heavily at her dismissal of the open wound on her face and walk around her to grab some paper towels, turning on the faucet to let cold water flow onto them.

“Fuck, No-eul, you’re not even participating in the games and you’re still finding ways to get injured.” Your hands are still shaking a bit when you come back over to her, gently dabbing the dried blood off her cheek. Her gaze is heavy on you, but you can’t bring yourself to look her in the eye right now. Not when you can practically feel her eyes all over your face, your body, every part of you.

As she stands there, No-eul’s mind begins to wander. How can you stand here, right in front of her after everything? Sometimes she genuinely believes you’re an angel sent from heaven to give her reprieve from the pain in her life; a gentle soul, who, even now, overlooks her greatest faults.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes out, gently taking your trembling hand in hers and pulling it away from her face. There’s an uncharacteristic softness in her expression, but you’ve seen it enough times to understand what it really conveys: guilt.

“You don’t have to apologize for something like this,” you say, clearing your throat as you turn to throw the paper towel away. “If you say everything’s fine, I’ll believe you.” Like always.

It's silent for a moment - almost peaceful - before her face twists as if she's just recalled an unpleasant memory.

“Who was that girl you were with? 380.” You scoff at her sudden question and turn around with pure confusion on your face.

“What?”

“She brought you over to those drug heads earlier. It’s not safe to hang around people like that, especially not in a place like this.” You bite back a response that said, well, you're currently with one of the guards that were gunning down people earlier, so how does that work?

“God, No-eul, it’s just a shitty temporary team-up kind of thing,” you laugh slightly at your own words, making sure to leave out your already growing attachment to two people in your little group. “What, did you expect me to try to do this all on my own?”

Her growing agitation is evident as her jaw visibly clenches and she turns away a bit, resting her hands on the back of the rifle slung around her shoulder. “I’m saying you should choose better, they’re the type of people who would drop you in a split second if it meant they could survive another day.”

“You think I don’t know that? Two of them are constantly high out of their minds and the other two-” You interrupt yourself with a sigh, shutting your eyes as your head droops; unfortunately, you can’t actually think of any reason you could have to distrust the unexpectedly kind girl and the shy boy you’ve grown acquainted with.

If they turned their backs on you, you would be lying if you said it wouldn’t phase you in the slightest.

No-eul begins feeling guilty again when she watches your shoulders drop and your eyes dim at the realization of the shitty situation you’ve found yourself in. Even so, her eyes don’t miss the unchanging patch on your sweater: a blue rectangle, neatly stitched with an O in the center. She bites her lip and curses under her breath. Always playing the hero, even at the expense of yourself.

She slowly walks back over to you, lifting up a single hand to trace the patch that signified your choice to give your life for hers.

“The issue isn’t the money,” the broker exclaims, his voice a mix of pity and exasperation at her persistence. “We’ve searched, we’ve been searching for years now, but a one-year old alone… especially after her mother deserted…?” Her expression hardens and he winces at the unintentional cruelty in his statement. “It’s almost impossible by now, No-eul.”

Her anger is barely contained when she feels a gentle hand on her shoulder, and a newfound calmness washes over her in waves.

“We understand the circumstances, sir, but please, please keep searching.” His expression softens slightly at the kind, weary smile on yours. “We’ll handle the expenses, all we ask is that you believe in this search too.”

She almost wants to cry at the sound of your sweet voice.

“We still have hope.”

“Get out of your head, No-eul.”

She’s startled back to reality when she feels gentle hands caress the scars on her wrists. Instinctively, she goes to pull away, but you step forward at the same time and press your body against hers, keeping a firm yet gentle grip on her wrists, fingertips still tracing the marks of the pain she’s held onto for seven years.

“Please don’t forget, this was my choice.” Your voice is muffled against the crook of her neck, but it’s just as gentle as she remembers it to be. “I still have hope.”

With those simple words, she feels the dream she’s held onto for years glow just a bit brighter. Closing her eyes, she leans head to rest atop yours, gently removing her arms from your grip to wrap them firmly around your body. You don’t hesitate to reciprocate her hold.

“Me too.” Your grip on her tightens just barely. “I still have hope too.”

—

A/N: WOW SORRY PLOT DUMP ALERT!! I love some good set-up but I hope the yearning was enough to make up for the lack of obvious romance like smut..

Never posted on Tumblr before too so I have no clue if I did this right (like formatting)! again, any thoughts on the fic are appreciated and ill probably (hopefully) finish part 2 soon! that part will prob be better cuz the relationship between all characters are all set up now. might cross post on ao3/wattpad but haven't decide yet

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Furiosa thoughts

About 48 hours after watching, I think my take on Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga is coalescing into: I enjoyed it as a Mad Max movie but found it disappointing as a Fury Road prequel.

Any Mad Max movie made after Fury Road was always going to suffer the fate of being compared to Fury Road, which is the best action movie ever made. So like, compared to any other action movie you can think of, Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga (we'll call it FMMS going forward) is very very good! It just isn't Fury Road.

The rest is under the cut for spoilers:

The action sequences were compelling. (I was aware I was hunched forward in my seat in tension/anticipation almost the entire time.) Some of them were even brilliant. That long sequence where the Octoboss and the Mortiflyers (yes those are their names) are attacking the War Rig with all kinds of airborne contraptions? Phenomenal. I was like yes okay now we are in a Mad Max movie! Other than that one sequence, though, in which we see Furiosa and Praetorian Jack begin to trust each other, I thought they rarely achieved the kind of wordless advancement of character relationships through action beats that is the lifeblood of Fury Road. So the action was good, but it was just normal-good, not Fury Road transcendent.

I did miss John Seale's cinematography. While I thought the action choreography was great, the shot selection was just not as dynamic and interesting as in Fury Road. I also really did not vibe with so much of the musical themes being recycled from Fury Road. The Fury Road score is SO memorable and the music is such an integral part of the momentum and feeling of every scene in the movie; I can play that score and see every beat of the action unfolding in my brain now. I wanted new score that felt like it was a part of this new action that we were seeing.

I loved all the new worldbuilding details and finally getting to see inside Gastown and the Bullet Farm. Those locations and their unique features were utilized really well for the action that took place in them. Loved the new details we got about the Citadel. The grappling hooks just dipping down to yoink people's vehicles during battle? Fantastic. The hidden Citadel ledge with the little pool of water?? That was such a fanfic-ready location. Pretty sure I already wrote at least one fic set there back in like 2016.

The Green Place! Very different from what I imagined but so much worldbuilding in just a few shots.

In general I thought the new cast rose to the challenge. Alyla Browne who played little kid Furiosa I thought was phenomenal actually. That's a tough role, both emotionally and physically, for a child actor and she slayed it. Casting Indigenous model and actress Charlee Fraser to play Furiosa's mother certainly made the Stolen Generation parallels more obvious. I'll have a lot more to say about Dementus down below, but Chris Hemsworth brought a great combo of bonkers and menacing.

I never doubted that Anya Taylor-Joy could bring the emotional intensity needed to the role--she can do crazy eyes like nobody's business, and with the growl she put in her voice she really did sound like Charlize Theron a bit. I found her physicality convincing for a young Furiosa. But she is not Charlize, through no fault of her own. Charlize is tall and she has broad shoulders and she just takes up so much space when moving and fighting as Furiosa and I think it was always going to be hard to replicate that. As long as they didn't try too hard to bridge the gap between the characters I was fine with it. But that one scene at the end where she's bringing the Wives to the Rig I was very viscerally like that is NOT our Furiosa. (I almost wish they would've used Charlize's stunt double for that scene the way they popped Jacob Tomuri into Max's place.) They could have simply left a time gap--based on the "15 years" she says to Dementus and the 7,000+ days we hear about in Fury Road there should be at least a 4-year gap between the film timelines, although in terms of bridging the look of the two actors it feels like it should be more like 10 years.

If FMMS had been a self-contained movie about a character named Furiosa in the Mad Max universe, I think I would have found it very satisfying. But as a prequel to Fury Road there were a bunch of ways I thought it was lacking on a story level.

I think it's pretty clear that this is not the backstory, or at least not the complete backstory, that Charlize Theron was imagining while playing Furiosa. Which...there's nothing objectively wrong with that; word of God and what actors think about their characters doesn't supersede what's on film for determining what is canon. However, Fury Road positions Joe as Furiosa's main antagonist, and while we don't get the full story behind the incandescent rage she directs at him, we know that rage is there and is a big part of her motivation. In interviews at the time, Charlize talked about the idea that Furiosa had been stolen to be a Wife but then was discovered to be infertile and discarded, how she survived by hiding in the Citadel and eventually rose to a position of power, how she saw her actions not as saving the Wives but as stealing them, and that her motivation at least starts out as more about hurting Joe than helping these women.

We get only the tiniest suggestion of Furiosa's backstory in Fury Road ("I was taken as a child, stolen") and the rest we piece together by implication. She is a healthy full-life woman working for a man who keeps healthy full-life women as sex slaves, hoping one of them will produce a viable male heir for him. She is effectively a general in his army, projecting his power on the wasteland, a position no other woman seems to occupy. She tells Max she is seeking "redemption." Redemption for what? She doesn't say. But "whatever she has done to win a position of power within this misogynist death cult" seems like a pretty obvious answer.

And that's interesting! That's an interesting backstory that engages with some of the core themes and moral questions of the Mad Max universe. These movies deal a lot with the tension between self-preservation and human connection. Do you screw someone else over to protect yourself? Even if it means putting them in the terrible position that you yourself have clawed your way out of? Even if it means enforcing your own oppressor's power over them? Or do you take the risk of helping people and caring enough to connect with them, even though this carries an emotional and physical risk?

FMMS doesn't really engage with Furiosa's relationship to Joe like, at all. It's not like Joe comes off looking like a good guy. He's just hardly in the movie. I don't know if this would have been different if Hugh Keays-Byrne were still alive. I don't know if there was pressure from the studio to cast an A-list male lead actor alongside Anya Taylor-Joy (who's a hot commodity now but wasn't what I would call an A-lister when she was originally cast). I don't know if, once Chris Hemsworth was cast, that affected how central his character's role became, since he is certainly the biggest name attached to the film. I would have actually been fine with Chris Hemsworth or another actor of his ilk playing a younger Joe, and us getting to see some of the charisma that attracted followers to him.

But the end result is that we have Dementus, who is a perfectly fine Mad Max villain, and quite entertaining at times! But not the most compelling antagonist you could give Furiosa.

The four Mad Max movies that feature Max go through an interesting evolution. In the first two movies, the villains are people "outside" society--criminals and roving gangs--and the people Max is defending are "civilization." So we have Mad Max where Max is a very fucked-up cop, and Road Warrior where Max is the prototypical western gunslinger, riding in to town to protect the settlement from an outside threat, but ultimately unable to accept any of the comforts of civilization for himself.

Then in Thunderdome and Fury Road, the dynamic switches. Now the antagonists are warlords and dictators. They are civilization. And the people Max ends up helping are trying to escape them.

To me, Dementus feels much more like the earlier kind of Mad Max villain. If there's another Mad Max movie I can most compare FMMS to, it's the first one. Dementus is Furiosa's Toecutter. (Kills her family, gives her her signature disabling injury, movie ends with her seeking revenge on him but it doesn't feel heroic or triumphant.) The whole end of FMMS when Furiosa is implacably hunting down Dementus? Extremely Mad Max 1.

But violent revenge holds a different symbolic place in Furiosa's story than it does in Max's. The end of Mad Max is a tragedy because Max tells us it is. He explicitly states, early in the movie, that he needs to stop being a cop or he'll become no different than the violent criminals he's pursuing. So he leaves his job and goes on an extended weird vacation with his wife and child, trying to get away from the violence of a collapsing society. But that violence finds him anyway, and by the end of the movie, Max has become the exact thing he said he didn't want to be. It's a tragedy not because the people Max kills in revenge for killing his family don't deserve it, but because seeking violent sadistic revenge is damaging to Max. That is not what he needs in order to heal from the loss of his wife and child. What he needs is to take the risk of human connection again. This is what he starts groping toward in the following two movies and fully realizes in Fury Road.

But Furiosa doesn't have the same arc. Her story in Fury Road is about how a few people struggling against their oppressor can be the catalyst that brings down a whole regime. Furiosa getting to rip Joe's face off is fucking satisfying, and it's supposed to be! So it's a bit weird, then, to spend an entire movie giving her a backstory that not only is not about Joe at all, but implies that seeking and getting revenge against Dementus for killing her mother and Jack is what made her into the person we see in Fury Road.

Aside from questions of revenge, what I thought Furiosa's goal was going to be is set up in the beginning of the movie. "No matter what happens, find your way home." Very clear objective there. And then we see her try to get home like, 1.5 times. I thought we were well set up to follow the tried and true film story format of "simple goal, big obstacles, high stakes." I wanted to see her trying over and over again to get home, and being thwarted in different ways every time. I wanted to see grief and guilt over her mother's death turn her mother's last command into a mission for which she would sacrifice anything (and anyone) else. I wanted to see her justify working for Joe and accumulating power in the violent world of the Citadel as what she has to do in order to get home. I wanted to see "Have you done this before?" "Many times." But we didn't really get that either.

Ultimately, I think the least frustrating way to think about the film--which the film itself encourages--is as one of many possible Wasteland legends about a character called Furiosa. Maybe it happened this way. Maybe it didn't. Maybe this is the Furiosa we see in Fury Road. Maybe it isn't. It all depends on how much you believe of the History Man's tales.

[mari-the-bimbo]

Nanami: the brat tamer

A/N: I apologise in advance for the woman I became when I wrote this 🙏 Also can we talk about how I randomly defeated my dyslexia and managed to write without bullet points? Lol

Warnings: MINORS DNI, oral sex, adult language, hair pulling? age gap

Having an older, accountant boyfriend didn’t seem so fun when you had to wait for him to get home after overtime.

You sat on your shared bed, arms crossed, pouting, and aggressively checking the time every 2 seconds, the impatience of waiting for Nanami finally creeped up to you. Now you were mad, how could he leave you like this for so long?!

So even after you heard the front door open and close, you decided to ignore it and pretend you’re sleeping. It’s petty, you know it is, but you convinced yourself it’s what he deserves, even after you heard his faint calls of your name from downstairs.

“Sweetheart?” Says his deep, creamy voice as he reaches the bedroom. You squeeze your eyes shut a bit tighter, in an attempt to block him out.

“I know you’re awake” he says.

You huff in annoyance at his smart ass comment and finally turn around to see him loosen his tie. Damn it, why did he have to be so sexy.

“So? I have nothing to say to you” you reply before turning your back to him again as you get comfy in your bed.

“Oh? Is my sweetheart upset about something?” He asks, trying his best to co operate with your young fiery temper.

You couldn’t help but furrow your brows at his tone, speaking to you as if you were a child having a tantrum. “What do you think?” You say sarcastically as you look at him again with a frown on your face.

You watch his jaw clench and he takes a deep breath, you knew his patience naturally ran thin, yet he tries his best with you. But dealing with you when you’re being a brat isn’t easy.

“I’m being nice y/n. So come here and tell me what’s wrong” he says, large hands grabbing one of your legs that dangled off the side of the bed.

Your bad temper led you to use your leg to push him away, however as your foot collided with Nanami’s stomach, you realised your effort was in no avail. It was like a foot to a wall, a hard, unmoving wall.

You gulped as you look back up at your strong boyfriend. His face would seem indifferent to others, but only you could notice that slight annoyance on his face. “Really y/n?” He asks, daring you to reply as he grabs the foot on his stomach tighter.

But just as you’re about to reply smartly, your breath is stolen as he quickly pulls your body towards him with the hold on your foot. You gasp “Nanami!” as he gets on the bed, now towering on top of your barely clothed body.

You’re about to protest again but he places his hand over your mouth, effectively shutting you up. “No. I gave you a chance to be a good girl but you chose to be a brat, so now you’re going to be disciplined like one” he says, and although you should be scared, you couldn’t help but whimper against his large hand and arch your back.

He wants to laugh at you but he shakes his head instead, “you shameless girl” he says as he removes his clothes and all you could do is hum in agreement and eye his chiselled abs that are no longer begging to burst through his blue shirt.

He sighs as if he’s disappointed but you know he’s loving every second of this. Your eyes are starry as you watch him pull his boxers down, finally letting his fat dick spring out, cum glistening at its tip, making you subconsciously spread your legs out.

Nanami watches you do this with a unamused look. “What are you doing? Do you really believe you deserve to be railed after that attitude?” He scolds, making you stare at him in disbelief and you finally scoff in annoyance.

Suddenly his hands grabs your hair, tugging it ever so slightly, yet the veins on his muscular beefy arms were bulging. “Ah!” “Be quiet, another sound out of you and you’re getting nothing out of me, understand?” He says, his frown deepening the contours of his handsome face.

And that threat humbled you in seconds, you stare in disbelief again but this time you nod. You were in no state to deny this, and he knew that too from the wet patch on your underwear.

“That’s right” he says, as he presses his dick against your face. His pre cum starts dripping down your face, and even as you moan, Nanami keeps the stern look on his face.

He wastes no time pushing himself inside your mouth, your choking is like music to his ears. It’s keeps him moving, his hips thrusting harder every time, because the wet gummy feeling of inside your mouth was just too good against his length. His hands reach behind your head, grabbing all your hair into a ponytail, helping you suck him more easily, bobbing your head so that you can take more of his length.

He lets out a choked moan which only motivates you further, maybe he’ll finally praise you if you try harder. You swirl your tongue around it, sucking harder and harder in hopes of a single praise out of Nanami’s mouth. Because as much as you pretend to be an unbothered bitch, you want be his good girl.

“Ohhhh you’re so good to me sweet girl” he finally says. Suddenly his speed increases, mouth fucking you relentlessly.

You try so hard to keep up with his speed but at some point your mouth gives up and you become a sex toy for his dick to play with. And once he finally slows the pace of his thrusts, and strokes the back of your neck so sweetly, the situation isn't made any easier as the salty taste of his cum flows down your throat as well as trickling down your chin. Nevertheless you swallow it all.

Finally you pull back, gasping for breath, making the remaining cum spill on your neck and breasts, but that’s not good enough for Nanami. “Don’t waste my cum you silly girl. You know I hate wasting”. His long fingers picks up the trail you left behind and presses the creamy trail against your mouth, forcing you to open your mouth and swallow it all.

You struggle to give an answer as you try to regulate your heavy pants.

“Well? What do you have to say?”

“Thank you daddy” you manage to choke out, you knew the drill.

“And?” He says, an eyebrows raised.

“And- I’m sorry for being a brat before” you add, crawling into his lap, craving his warmth. His eyes soften at your exhausted figure, he could never stay mad at his beautiful angel.

He strokes your hair as he watches you become putty against him. Pretty wide eyes staring at him, waiting for praise. He can’t help but give you an amused smile, god, you were so pretty, especially when you had cum glistening on your chin.

He lets you press yourself against his body as he kisses your cheeks. “That’s okay sweetheart, next time you’re sad, you need to tell me, okay?”

“Okay” you lie, knowing damn well you’re going to do it again just to get him mad.

What? It’s not your fault he looks so damn fine when he’s mad.

He presses one last kiss to your head before pulling you away. “Okay you need to get up now princess, you need to show me how sorry you are”

“Huh?” You say.

You continue to stare dumbfounded as a Nanami grabs his tie, his eyes not looking away from yours as he ties your hands together.

Your confusion soon morphs into a giddy smile as you realise what this meant. You open your legs once again, knowing you’re in for a treat. You give Nanami your best puppy eyes and you watch him lick his lips in response. Perfect, you knew you would get your way, Nanami loves you too much to deny you of anything.

“Am I about to get railed?”

“Yes you are sweetheart”

[seventeenytiny]

pls write more about piss kinks maybe with jeongin? 😸

SMUT MDNI

Authors Note: Okay so I originally wrote this as some general thoughts with some bullet points but then it turned into a whole ass scenario. I apologize that it's a bit weirdly formatted, I think it still does the job though! Hopefully, you guys are still able to enjoy it! Word Count: 948 Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, PIV sex, Piss kink, cream pie

Jeongin didn't even realize he had a piss kink until that time you pushed him out of the way to pee while he was brushing his teeth in the bathroom.

He immediately felt his face heat up as he heard the sound of you relieving yourself. The way your face relaxed as you let go sent blood right to his dick.

He was pretty embarrassed about it, to be honest. Why is he feeling like this over his partner peeing?

He didn't say anything about his newfound kink for a long time. He was a bit embarrassed and didn't even know how to bring it up, although you figured it out all your own.

Ever since that day, Jeongin would follow you into the bathroom every time you went in. He acted like it was just to continue your conversation, but the bulge in his pants said otherwise.

It was you who finally brought up the idea of experimenting with the piss kink. Jeongin's face turned bright red upon hearing your suggestion.

"Are—are you sure, Y/N? Do you actually want to try that?" he stutters out.

"Yeah, why not? Seems like it could be hot," you say, shrugging your shoulders.

So, you two figure out a plan. The two of you decide to each drink as much water as you can, filling up both of your bladders to max capacity. Towards the end of the evening, both of your bladders are so full you start to ache.

"Jeongin, I don't think I can hold it much longer," you say, feeling the pressure in your lower stomach. He pushes his hand against your stomach, watching you flinch from the pressure. He gives you the most shit-eating grin, teasing you for how badly you must have to go.

You retaliate, poking him back. His reaction proves he's just as full as you. Not willing to endure any more teasing, he lifts you off your feet and carries you into the shower.

Setting you down in the bathroom, his lips graze over yours as his hands toy with the hem of your shirt, "Are you sure you want to go through with this? We can stop at any time if you want."

You place your arms around his neck, pushing your lips against his, "I'm sure I want to try this Jeongin".

With your permission, he helps you undress. His motions show eagerness, yet he does his best to contain himself, his hands moving slowly but shakily over your body. He gently kisses your neck and collarbone before helping you enter the tub.

He holds your bare body against his, his already hard cock pushes into your ass as he sucks on your neck. You turn around to kiss him, your hand reaching down to stroke his cock. He shivers, partially from your touch and partially from how badly he has to piss.

You pin him against the wall, stroking his cock with one hand and pushing against his lower stomach with the other. He whimpers from your touch, "I know you can't hold it much longer Jeongin. Why don't you just let it go?" His lip quivers, and his eyes squeeze shut. You continue to stroke him as you feel his cock twitch, a tiny golden stream spurts out. "Doesn't that feel good baby? Why don't you let it all out?"

It's like a dam inside him breaks, a strong stream of piss comes out. He moans as you aim his stream at your body, aiming for your pussy.

The warmth of his piss almost makes you lose control of your bladder but you continue to hold it. You feel so much heat building up in your lower stomach from how turned on you are. You rub your clit with your free hand as he continues to release on you.

Slowly, his stream tapers off. His tongue practically hangs out of his mouth as he relaxes, his cheeks are red and rosy.

Looking at you covered in his mess makes him go feral. He pushes you up against the wall, your ass sticking out for him. He aligns his cock with your opening before taking you from behind. The stretch of him puts even more pressure on your bladder. You know you can't hold it much longer.

He builds up his pace quickly, his roughness immediately proving it's too much for you to handle. Piss begins to spurt out of you with every thrust, you feel so overwhelmed with pleasure that tears prick your eyes.

"That's it, baby, let it all out. Feels so good pissing all over my cock, doesn't it?" His hand reaches over your body, rubbing your clit. The lighter your bladder gets the more you can feel your orgasm approaching.

"Jeongin please don't stop!" You cry out. When your stream comes to an end you can feel your orgasm begin. You feel yourself squirt all over his cock as he keeps up his pace.

Jeongin's breath gets shaky as he feels your body tremble, "Baby, please let me come inside, please," he pleads with you.

"Come wherever you want, baby."

With that, his orgasm takes over.

He thoroughly rides out his orgasm before his grip on your hips begins to lighten.

When he pulls out, he turns you around to kiss you, his come dripping down your leg.

"That was one of the best orgasms I've had in a long time," you whisper to him in between kisses. The two of you are both hot and out of breath.

"How about a nice warm shower and then we snuggle on the couch with a movie after?" he suggests.

"Sounds like a great way to end the evening."

[the-moon-files]

Wait, quick idea! Twilight looks like the only hylian in his village because everyone else has round ears, so what if he wasn’t as surprised as the others to see their human companion so resilient, but still fairly impressed because of the fact that most if not all people in his village don’t put themselves in as drastic situations as the reader? Or is this just humans from our world?

get out of my head lmao /lh - you, me, and wayfayrr are actually the same person on diff accounts LMAO

im of the belief that (blame @wayfayrr, my beloved) that he knows of humans bc of some in his village but yeah, just not the type of human in drastic situations

(ALSO they wrote me a fun, long, glorious, male reader human space orc au fic for winning their raffle a bit ago, and it brings up their headcanon abt this and i Adore It actually, check it out here pls if u wanna know🤲)

(also if u see this wayfayrr, sorry for the ping, also should i be calling u moss? or wayfayrr?? idk which, i hope thats even ok to ask 😭 i assumed u would call my ass Moon)

Moon: Male-Masc Reader (he/him)

Orbit: short headcanons-ish, rambling mostly

Stars: Twilight Princess Link (Twi/Twilight), mentions of other Links

Comets & Meteors: CWs: none known, & TWs: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

to reiterate what i said up there, in case u skipped it for the bullet points,

i like the headcanon he knows humans, knows some of their quirks, and how they were the first ppl the other hylian villagers called on to help stuck cows or downed wagons, lots of heavy lifting stuff

but he really hasnt seen the extent of real humans, bc the humans who were in Ordon, well, they lived in hylian society,

why would they need the adrenaline to lift a car when hylians have set up whole tools and systems in all their towns to help lift just a full bucket of water out of the well??

not to mention, i think all the humans in his village were older adults? like at least not the age theyd be doing things like parkour or going to any trampoline parks type of age,

id imagine its more like stories talked about amongst hylians how hard humans can go, and even the humans themselves talked abt things like,

“well compared to u hylians, we have stomachs made of molten lava to you guys really, but we never have to use it, bc u know hylian food works just fine”

when Twi asked they would say stuff like that, but as soon as he saw ur human ass just picking wildflowers and berries off the side of the road to snack on? even random grasses/vines at some point (kudzu)?? easily eating Wild’s Dubious Food that's DEFINITELY got monster parts in it???! gnawing on the bone of a cucco and it just breaks??!!! and you look surprised too, thank fuck finally a normal reaction from u- oh my goddesses u were just curious (damn the elders were right abt human curiosity too) **and are now sucking out the marrow and eating the bone-!!!!!!!!!!!!

Twilight’s perspective of you is actually the equivalent of like, reading stories about vampires all ur life, then this new friend you made starts to get allergic to garlic, crave blood, has crazy strength and advanced senses, etc

and he’s just watching those honest-to-Hylia human mythological feats play out in real time in front of him, like he’s the only self-aware character in the story that immediately clocks the really obvious vampire as a vampire lmao

is the first to either 1. start choking on his laugh as he theoretically knows ur about to jump on the back of a lynel/hinox to ride it around and watch as the others come to the same conclusion OR 2. try to Stop you from jumping on said big monster in an attempt to ride it around bc he gets used to ur human BS quicker than the others and can see it coming a mile away now lol

very much so this meme:

(ur welcome i made it myself <3)

anyway id love to rant abt this dynamic

abt both Twi’s shock at you eating peppers like a god has come down from the sky to prove their immortality,

but also poor rancher esstientally humansitting you too lmao

the Chain/Time/Wars absolutely put him down as the resident human expert like: “ok he just drank like, 5? No- Four stop him from drinking more at least- (dual sighs). okay, 6 stamina potions, will that kill him??”

Twilight, saviour of Hyrule, of the Twili, Link from Twilight Princess himself,

has to keep a record book of all the new shit he’s heard/learned about humans in Ordon, what he has actively learned abt ur ass just fucking around and finding out, and the few bread crumbs of information u give him abt ur species

(that rlly just come off as kind of cryptid statements abt u/humanity, or don't apply in this scenario bc ur only comparison is Earth Rules, which honestly scare every single fucking one of them in the same way as walking on Ganon’s lawn or something, like straight up view ur home planet as enemy territory, the Amazon jungle, the Hyrule wilds if you will-)

Twilight also gets involuntarily volunteered for human-sitting duty too

tbh the only person Not allowed on human-sitting duty, when u guys go new areas esp, is Wild/Hyrule

you’d tell him you wanna get inside the guardian robot to operate it and ride it around and he’d probably be in shock you even fathomed something like that, yet also now EXTREMELY intrigued to watch it play out

(they’re both more of a “u wanna jump off a cliff?? that's actually crazy, wait for me please.” he seems to think he can somehow protect you if he joins you? its worked sometimes to be fair to him ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ just not really conveniently when the rest of the Chain are around lmao)

☆

i live btw, ive been writing/updating fics along with life updates (moving states/new job/online class) so a few asks will hopefully be answered over here in the next 2ish weeks

no promises, my life is kinda girlbossing at the moment too close to the sun and i am Nervous abt disappointing u guys

i already feel like im disappointing my other blog bc i haven't posted in forever bc im writing a fic instead of asks during any free time i dedicate to writing for it so :/

pls excuse my super slowness like a package ur waiting for in the mail or smth type of slow

AGAIN thanks for the ask!! i hope this was at least entertaining to read as some addon to what u said, you guys have gotta check out some of wayfayrr’s stuff if ur into this, bc they're the only other place i can think of that's talked abt humans not just being the same as hylians

have a great week!!

Peace out hugs and chaos,

🌙

[alicenpai]

recent manga diary

- okay starting to read love bullet now.. the art honestly looks incredible im totally digging the art style 👁👁

- speaking of yuri im also reading erio and the electric doll. this is the new manga ive read the most of recently. it's a bit like kino's journey, mixed with yokohama kaidashi kikou, and pluto (naoki urasawa, and by extension, astro boy too). it tells of a post-war world in which androids destroyed a large chunk of humanity. because of that, people have taken to regressing to a pre-electricity world - into the world of steam. two girls walk away from their idyllic, albeit isolated life by the coast, in search of finding other humans and travel the world together. it has some really interesting world building and discusses some morally grey topics regarding humanity, war, and artificial intelligence.

- you might know the artist as the one who did a lot of work for final fantasy 14. the art is beautiful, with delicate linework, and a prominent steampunk aesthetic.

- going back to the yuri part - the main cast consists of a young teen and an android. the human girl has the power to create electricity, and so she charges her android by kissing her. they can charge via touching hands, but no they have to kiss. very cute.. i hyped it up but LMAO i don't know if i can recommend it for romance per se, as it's more platonic right now, but it's still a very charming read!

- i think this series would look so gorgeous if it came to life in an anime adaptation.. manifesting a steampunk anime in 2k25

- also started to read kageki shoujo, it's really fun so far!! those are my only thoughts on it for now. i haven't read a shoujo in so long i think.. might have to watch the anime adaptation as well, as i heard the animation is quite good.

- i also wanted to get into requiem of the rose king for the longest time, the brooding, gothic aesthetic totally looks up my alley, and the medieval politics looks interesting too. the pacing is a bit choppy, but idk if that's due to the poor fan translation, will have to source it from the library if i can..

- still catching up to medalist and shadows house, haven't read witch hat atelier in a while.

- caught up to skip and loafer 🥰 i wrote about it in some older diary entries, but it's literally so good. i really need to draw some skip loaf sometime..

- almost done the extra stories from emma.. and that's all folks!!

[atlabeth]

come on back to me - nikolai lantsov

summary: five times you save nikolai and one time he saves you.

a/n: if you've seen my thoughts as i read through siege and storm and ruin and rising then you know that i am deeply in love with nikolai lantsov and since ive finally finished the trilogy i finally feel qualified to write about him lmao. i actually don’t think i’ve written a 5+1 which is crazy so here you go. i wrote this in like 2 days in a spurt of inspiration and im absolutely in love with it, so i hope you all are too!!

title from you’re the one by greta van fleet

wc: 7.3k

warning(s): fem!reader, canon typical violence, siege and storm & ruin and rising book spoilers (i have not watched the show), medical inaccuracies, nikolai's volcra era, hurt/comfort and a happy ending (as usual)

Os Alta

It all happened rather quickly. 

One moment, you were in the infirmary mending a poor soldier’s broken arm. The next, screams were erupting everywhere. 

You and the soldier locked eyes, and you did a final bit of healing on his arm before you nodded at each other and darted off. 

The soldier grabbed his gun and went further into the palace, no doubt to find the royal family, and you adjusted the collar of your kefta before you ran out into the fray. 

Nichevo’ya had surrounded everything, attacking anyone they could find, and their shadowy bodies were like a void’s blight on the land. You knew the sight would be forever burned into your mind.

You knew the Darkling was going to march on Os Alta, that he would have to do it directly to use his shadow soldiers, but this was so much earlier, so much worse than you’d expected. Enforcements were meant to come from Poliznaya. You guessed that was off the table. 

You were fine at fighting—alright with a pistol and better with a dagger—but you were a Healer. You spent more time dealing with the aftermaths of battles, more skilled at setting broken bones and mending bullet wounds than inflicting them. 

Times like these were the ones when you normally questioned your decision to not hone your abilities into a Heartrender, but now you would at least be a dead man either way. Nichevo’ya didn’t exactly have hearts to stop and organs to manipulate. 

You had to get to the other Grisha. You had to make sure the Sun Summoner made it through this attack, even if it meant you wouldn’t. 

You broke into a sprint, trying your best to ignore the crippled and broken bodies in the carnage. Your instincts tugged against you, but you knew there was nothing to be done. If you stopped to help a dead man, you would soon join them. 

You nearly battered into a group of people from your speed and lack of attention, and you reeled to the side seconds before a head-on collision. When you looked up, drawing in ragged breaths in the one second of rest you’d gotten, your eyes widened. 

You were face to face with the royal family. The King, the Queen, and Nikolai Lantsov. The absence was glaring. 

“Grisha,” Nikolai breathed, and he grabbed onto your shoulders like a madman as his fingers ran over the embroidery. He might as well have been one, the way wildfire flickered in his eyes. “You’re a Healer? One of Alina’s?”  

You nodded rapidly. “Are you—” 

“I’m getting them to safety on the Kingfisher,” he cut off, “and she wants me to get that old woman as well.”

“Baghra—?”

“You’re a Healer?” the King interrupted harshly. Your heart stuttered—you’d never been directly addressed by the King, but you supposed circumstances like these called for different standards. 

“Yes,” you nodded. “Are you hurt?” 

“My wife,” he said, and your attention turned to the Queen. Genya’s absence had taken a toll on her, and the shards of glass sticking out of her side weren’t doing her pallid frame any favors. 

“Madraya,” Nikolai whispered, his eyes wide, “I didn’t even notice.” 

“Alexander—” her voice was ragged, her entire appearance pallid— “we’ve much bigger concerns.” 

“Nonsense.” The King’s gaze bore into you. “We have time. Heal her.” 

You screwed your eyes shut, your hands closing into fists for a moment before both opened and you nodded. “Keep an eye out, moi tsarevich,” you huffed, and you moved to the Queen’s side. Nikolai’s head perked up for a moment at your words, but it disappeared just as quickly as he adjusted his grip on his pistol. 

“Of course,” he said wryly. “Not that I don’t trust your work, and not that I don’t trust my abilities, but it would be grand if you could do this quickly.” 

“Working as fast as I can,” you muttered, ignoring the noises the Queen made as you pulled the shards of glass out with little care. Your mentors would be rolling in their graves if they could see you. 

“Vasily is dead, by the way,” Nikolai said, attention focused on the nichevo’ya all around. Thankfully, you’d run into each other in a spot relatively hidden from view. Hopefully it extended to shadow creatures. “I know you were wondering.” 

Your hands faltered for a moment, but it was hardly noticeable as you continued to work. He wasn’t wrong. “I’m so sorry.” 

The Queen choked back a sob, and the King’s face betrayed the slightest bit of emotion. 

“An awful way to go,” Nikolai muttered, more to himself than anything. “But fitting that he brought about his own end.” 

His parents said nothing to your surprise, but you stood up from your knees and nodded at the King and Queen. “She’s healed enough. No internal bleeding, at least.” 

“Healed enough?” the King repeated. “That is not—” 

“It’s the best we can hope for,” Nikolai interrupted sharply. “We’ve already wasted too much time out here.” 

He then nodded, grasping your hands with fierce desperation. “The crown thanks you, darling.” You’d never seen him like this—you’d never seen him fear anything. The Darkling and his creations were a good start. “I thank you, truly.” 

“Just doing my duty,” you assured, and you pulled a small container out of the pocket of your kefta, leftover from your work in the infirmary before it all went to hell, and pressed it into his hand. “She should be alright, but I’ve been slightly rushed. Rub this salve on her wounds when you’re out of danger just to be sure.” 

Nikolai nodded again, slipping it into his own pocket. “Keep our Sun Summoner safe,” he said. “Or else this’ll have all been for nothing.” 

You nodded. “With my life.” 

Nikolai’s eyes met yours, and something unsaid passed between you. Then his hands slipped off of yours, and he continued to herd his parents away from the chaos. You muttered a quick prayer to any Saints that would listen for their safety, and then you head off on your own way. 

2. The Pelican 

You thought either the bones in your hands or the wood was going to crack with how tight you were holding onto the side of the ship. Your heart was still hammering away in your chest—the adrenaline from the battle and Nikolai Lantsov’s sudden appearance and being shot at a thousand different times by a thousand different militiamen still had you quite shaken. 

You knew the sort of chaos you were in for when you made the decision to travel with Alina Starkov rather than stay in the White Cathedral, but you think you hated being in the air like this even more than you hated being trapped underground with those zealots. 

Someone called your name, and you turned to see Adrik a while away with wide eyes. You huffed a sigh as you reluctantly let go and hastened your pace to catch up with him. If he was sent to fetch you, then someone needed healing, and you couldn’t exactly hold off on the one thing you were good at. 

Adrik led you over to a corner of the Pelican where a large portion of your group of Grisha were gathered. Tamar was kneeling next to whoever was injured, one hand splayed above their chest, and you took a deep breath as you forced calmness to wash over your mind. 

“What are we dealing with?” you asked Tamar, but it was clear enough when he spoke up. 

“I’m telling you, it’s fine,” he insisted. “Just a flesh wound.” 

“He was shot,” Tamar said dryly, “and he refuses to accept its severity.” 

“So we meet again,” you said placidly. 

Nikolai seemed to perk up when he saw you, any prior frustration absent from his face as he grinned at you and said your name. “If you’re the Healer here, then I guess I’m not so fine.” 

“Am I ever going to be around you when you’re doing important princely things,” you said as you crouched on the other side of him, Tamar continuing to keep his heart rate steady, “or only when you’re injured?” 

“This is a very important princely thing,” Nikolai said. “I’m showing my soon to be subjects that I’m just like them.” 

“You were shot and you thought you were fine?” You let out a loose sigh and shook your head—it wasn’t worth getting into it. “Keep it steady, Tamar.” 

She nodded, and you reached out to begin unbuttoning his outer coat. He wouldn’t stop shifting around, and it made it infinitely harder. 

“Will you sit still?” you snapped. 

“I am,” Nikolai said. 

“You are not,” you asserted, and you undid the final button on his coat after a struggle, “and you are making this much more difficult.” 

“My apologies,” he said. “Usually women that are taking off my clothes aren’t this angry with me.” 

You scowled, only making his smile grow. 

“You do it yourself if you want to be like that,” you said, letting your hands fall back to your side. “I’m sure the rest of your soldiers will listen to a Healer.” 

“Ah, but none of them bravely threw themselves into danger for you,” Nikolai remarked. “I’m sure that earns me a few points.” 

“Points that you’ve immediately lost by being this difficult with me.” You crossed your arms. “And you did not throw yourself into danger for me—you were in the battle and you got shot.” 

“We came to save you all, and you are a part of it,” Nikolai said. “I’d say I definitely threw myself into danger for you.” 

“You’re impossible.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “Will you not even allow a dying man some honor?”

“You are not dying,” you said, “but you will be if you continue talking. Now take off your clothes and stop being so difficult so I can fix this up before you do die.” 

He tutted as he shed his jacket and worked on the rest of his clothing. Princes were apparently fond of multiple layers. “For a Healer, your bedside manner is remarkably poor.”

“Don’t worry,” Nadia piped in, “she’s always been like this.” 

“I have very fond memories of you healing my broken ribs,” Alina said dryly. 

“All of you are still alive,” you said tartly with a glance back at your fellow Grisha, “aren’t you?” 

“I think you made me wish I wasn’t,” Harshaw mused. 

You scowled again and Nikolai laughed. “That bodes very well for me, considering how much I seem to irritate you.” 

“You’re going to be fine,” you grumbled. When you turned back to him, he’d gotten down to his undershirt and unbuttoned it. Blood had spread across the white fabric, but apart from being shot, the wound wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. It’d had the chance to fester for a bit, but with Tamar’s aid it hopefully wouldn’t be a problem.  

You took a deep breath as you placed your hands on his chest—lucky as always, you could sense the bullet missed all his major organs—but Nikolai grimaced before you could even do anything. 

“Are you alright?”

“Your hands are very cold,” he said and you just shook your head. 

“How no one has wrung you by the neck is beyond me.” 

“Many have tried.” He flashed that smile again. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t add your name to the list.” 

You ignored him, taking another deep breath before you closed your eyes. You felt your power within you, the tug you’d grown accustomed to over the years, and you focused it into a single point. 

You slowly worked on healing Nikolai, making sure you went from the inside out to stop any internal bleeding before you carefully wedged the bullet out with your knife. Surprisingly, he managed to keep his mouth shut for the most part. He watched you the entire time though, wholly unyielding, and it was unnerving. 

Nikolai covered up his pain remarkably well, but you still caught the slightest grimace when you practically stuck a dagger inside him.

“Do you always try to injure your patients more when you’re healing them?” he asked innocently. 

“You typically don’t make fun of the person fixing you up,” you said, and you held up the knife, “or the one holding the blade.”

“Surely you could’ve used David to get it out,” Zoya offered lazily. “Better than practically stabbing the King of Ravka.”

“I’m not the king,” Nikolai said. “Not yet, at least.” 

“And I’m not stabbing him.” You held up the bullet with your other hand, then let it fall to the floor. “I just didn’t feel like digging around inside him.” 

Nikolai picked up the bullet, and you frowned in question. He just shrugged. “To hold onto the fond memories of this battle and the kindest, prettiest Healer I’ve ever laid eyes on.” 

Someone snickered behind you, and you turned to see all of them just standing around—Zoya, Harshaw with Oncat perched on his shoulder, Adrik ignoring his sister to watch, even Alina and Mal were still there. At least Tamar had enough sense to stay quiet while she helped you. 

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you snapped. “It’s hard to focus with you all watching me.”

Alina blinked, seeming to come back to her senses. You almost didn’t blame her—she had so much on her shoulders, it made sense to just want to stand and stare for a minute.

“Right,” she nodded, and she gestured at Zoya and the Squaller siblings as she started walking across the ship, “Adrik, Nadia, I need you all over…”

Alina's words trailed off as she got farther away, and the small crowd dissipated to find duties to carry out without their Sun Summoner to indulge their whims. 

“Thank you for your help, Tamar,” you mumbled. “I can take it from here.” 

She nodded and went off to join the others—the controlled state Nikolai had been in dissolved as she let go of the hold she had on his heart, and the slight daze in his eye went away. 

“Are you always this mean?” Nikolai asked. You turned back to find him with that same unshakable confidence, same lazy smile even in the face of it all. It was no wonder noble and commoner girls alike tripped over themselves when he returned to Ravka. 

It was no wonder Alina fell for his charms despite the tracker by her side—he always knew the right thing to say to make you feel like everything would be okay, and in the midst of Ravka’s endless war, that was a valuable quality indeed.

“I save it for irritating princes,” you remarked. With a final flourish, his wound was sewed up, and Nikolai raised his eyebrows as he touched the newly healed skin.

There was another slight wince, but he still smiled up at you. “Excellent job.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” you said.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to Grisha handiwork,” Nikolai said as he pulled himself up from the side of the ship. “Especially the healing kind.”

“It would do you good not to get used to it,” you said. “You may not be king yet, but Zoya is right. I’d appreciate it if you tried to stay out of my infirmary.”

“Do you not enjoy my company?” he asked. 

“I don’t enjoy bringing Ravka’s only heir back from the brink after every battle,” you corrected. “You’ve got a lot more weight on your shoulders now, moi tsarevich.”

His eyebrows furrowed slightly at your Ravkan. “Say that again.”

You frowned, wondering if you’d heard him correctly. Nikolai continued staring at you, so you sighed. “Moi tsarevich?”

He laughed, and that only soured your mood further. “What are you laughing about?” 

“I recognized it back during the attack but I didn’t fully think about it,” he said. “It comes out the most with your R’s. You’re not Ravkan, are you?”

You paused at his sudden subject change. “You were focusing on my accent when everyone was dying around us?” 

“Answer the question.” 

Your frown deepened. “I am in most senses of the word.”

Nikolai’s eyes narrowed. “You’re Kerch.”

Your lips twitched. “Yes, but I don’t—”

“You still haven’t lost the accent somehow,” he continued. “At least, in how you speak certain Ravkan words. Is it Ketterdam?”

“Don’t you have better things to do than quiz your Healer on her childhood?”

“Perhaps,” Nikolai said, eyes twinkling, “but if you’re really my Healer, as you said yourself, I’m surely allowed to ask as many questions as my heart desires.”

“Your heart desires no more,” you said wryly. “I have other injured to attend to. Call if you find yourself actively dying.”

To his credit, he didn’t try to fight it. Just offered that same smile that weakened knees from the Kaelish to the Shu. “I’ll be sure to ring before I’m dead and buried.”

“Put your clothes back on before you do,” you said.

“Ah, but isn’t this your reward for putting up with the irritating prince?” Nikolai asked with a slight gesture at his chest. “I’d imagine you’d want to keep an eye on your handiwork.”

That sparked a rare smile of your own, and you bowed your head. “Moi tsarevich,” you said before you walked off.

You felt Nikolai’s eyes on you even as you approached an injured First Army soldier, and after the first few preliminary questions you couldn’t help but look back. 

When you did, he was gone. 

3. Monastery of Sankt Demyan

You sat on the Spinning Wheel, off to the corner so you wouldn’t be disturbing anyone, staring at your hands as you tried to ignore the thousands of things bumping around in your mind. You’d been on the run with the Sun Summoner and a smattering of other Grisha for longer than you would have liked, but you had to accept that this was what life would be like until the Darkling was either defeated or destroyed you all. 

It was a damning sort of fate, knowing what awaited you unless the impossible was done. At least it would be quick if the nichevo’ya tore you apart. 

You grimaced. That was one thought that would do you no good—if you’d made it this far, from Os Alta under the Darkling’s control to Os Alta under Lantsov control to the White Cathedral and now to Fjerda of all places, what was one more piece of the puzzle? 

A very big piece of the puzzle, of course, and there was still the intrinsic distrust that some soldiers—and even Alina at moments, flickers of it you could see in her eyes against her will—had towards you. You, like the rest of the Grisha here that hailed from the Second Army, served the Darkling until you’d switched sides. You wanted nothing more than to see the Darkling to his grave, for Ravka to be restored and for all of this to be over. 

But you had switched sides in the first place, and you knew enough from the looks of those soldiers—they still believed that if you could betray the Darkling, you could always still betray the Sun Summoner if given enough cause. 

You didn’t try to dissuade their views through words; it wouldn’t do any good. You just hoped the long hours you spent holed up in the infirmary healing the injured would. You missed Maxim if only so you wouldn’t have to do it all alone. 

“Vlachka for your thoughts?” 

You looked up, surprised to see Nikolai Lantsov of all people. You hadn’t held a true conversation with him since you healed him after his bullet wound. He’d been busy with princely things like banishing his parents and saving Genya’s livelihood. 

You were thankful for that, at least. She’d suffered too much at the hands of the Darkling and the King. 

“You’d need a lot more than that,” you said. 

He smiled. “I’ve got quite a bit. Have you seen this place?” 

You chuckled and shrugged. “Just thinking. About our next move, about the Darkling, about what will be after this.” 

“You certainly aren’t the only one,” Nikolai said. “Lately it seems to be all anyone can think about.”

“I’m sure you’d much rather have them thinking of you,” you said wryly. 

“Oh, there’s plenty of that going on as well.” Nikolai smiled. “An even balance, I’d say.”

You chuckled again. “What brings you here, Nikolai?” 

He shrugged. “I wanted to get to know my Healer.” 

You huffed a sigh and looked away. “Why do you call me that?” 

He was awfully good at feigning innocence. “Call you what?” 

“My Healer,” you repeated. “Your Healer. I don’t understand it.” 

“I like the sound of it,” he said. “I’ll stop if you don’t like it.” 

You felt your cheeks heat and you felt his eyes on you. “It’s not that. It’s just—” 

“Because I can,” he continued. “Would you prefer lapushka? Milaya? Perhaps babya.”

You scowled as you turned back to him, and you hit him lightly on the shoulder. “You should stick to the seas and the throne, moi tsarevich. Comedy is not your strong suit.” 

“I like it when you call me that,” he mused. “I like your accent, your voice.” He sat down next to you, mildly unexpected, and you hoped you did better at hiding your surprise than it felt. “There’s something soothing about it.” 

“I am from Ketterdam,” you said after a moment. “You guessed right. Born and raised. When my abilities started showing, my parents put me on a ship to Ravka with a map, some vlachki, and the clothes on my back. I made my way to the Little Palace, pleaded my case to the Darkling, and I haven’t seen them since.”

Nikolai was silent, and you fully turned to look at him. “You wanted to know more about me. That’s who I am. A girl from Ketterdam in over her head.”

“Give yourself some credit,” Nikolai said. “You’re a woman from Ketterdam in over your head.” 

You huffed a laugh, and Nikolai’s expression softened a bit. “Why did they send you away? If that’s alright to ask, of course.” 

You shrugged. “Being a young girl in the Barrel is bad enough. If anyone figured out I was Grisha, I would either be dead in the streets, indentured before I could blink, or worse.”  

“They thought it would be safer in Ravka,” he guessed. “In the Second Army.” 

You nodded. “They couldn’t have known any of this would happen,” you said dryly. 

“Do you miss your parents?” he asked. 

“Every day,” you said quietly. “We sent letters when we could, but it was never enough. And those stopped after Alina left the Little Palace, obviously.” 

You didn’t need to recount the months of the Darkling’s madness as he searched for his Sun Summoner. Nikolai might have been Sturmhond at the time, but you didn’t doubt that he had contacts in the Little Palace. You didn’t exactly want to remember it either. 

“How about this?” Nikolai adjusted his position so he could look right at you, those smart hazel eyes enough to get lost in. You forced yourself not to. “On the slim chance that we make it through these next few weeks, when the dust has settled and I’m officially King, I’ll charter a ship for you back to Ketterdam.” 

Your head whirled back to look at him, eyes widening. There was no sign in his eyes of a false promise, only that soft smile, charming as ever. You had the sudden, misplaced urge to wind your fingers into those blonde curls and kiss him. 

“You’d do that for me?” 

He nodded. “Of course. Only the best for my Healer, right?” 

That got a laugh out of you, but the heat rose to your cheeks all the same. “That would be incredible, Nikolai. Thank you.” 

“Of course.” 

He looked—gazed— at you for a touch longer than usual before he spoke again. 

“There’s going to be a meteor shower later tonight,” Nikolai said. “One of my crew figured it out—he’s very fond of the sky, and he told me it would be… quite the sight.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. Was he—

“I’d like to watch it with you,” Nikolai continued. “Of course, I have to put on a display with Alina, but after that,” he looked over at you, hazel eyes gleaming, “I’d like to spend the night with you.” 

It took a moment for your brain to fully process his words. “Moi tsarevich, are… you asking me on a— a date?” 

“Just Nikolai, please,” he said with a grin. “And yes, I am.” 

It seemed so trivial in the scheme of things. You were leading an impossible battle against the Darkling, and as a traitor to his throne, you would end up dead or worse if he caught you. The near entirety of the Second Army was dead, friends you’d grown up and honed your power alongside with ripped apart by nichevo’ya. Your chances for victory relied on the firebird, and no one knew a damn thing about it. 

It was trivial. It was frankly ridiculous, for the prince— the King of Ravka—to be asking you on a date, especially when it was imperative for him to present a certain image with Alina. 

But for all the triviality and ridiculousness and idiocy, you found that you’d never wanted to accept something so badly. 

So you did. You nodded, smiled, brighter than usual. Nikolai seemed to have that effect on you. 

“I’d love to.” 

“Wonderful.” Somehow, impossibly, his grin grew bigger. Nikolai took your hand and pressed a delicate kiss to it before he stood back up—you’d never been so thankful for his confidence, because you found yourself at a loss for words. “I’ll see you tonight, darling. Try not to get into too much trouble without me.” 

You nodded again, and you knew you looked like a dazed idiot. The better half of a decade spent training as a Grisha and all it took was a kiss to your hand for your brain to stop working. You really had been at war for far too long. 

Nikolai could tell every thought—or lack thereof—in your head by the overly pleased expression he wore as he walked away, and your entire face burned as you bit back your smile. 

He knew exactly what he did to you. 

4. The Bittern 

Sergei sold you out. 

That son of bitch had betrayed you all to the Darkling the first chance he got, and he’d been rewarded with a quicker death than any of you would get. 

You’d been left fighting for your lives against the Darkling’s oprichniki, Grisha, and nichevo’ya alike, and as usual, you were hopelessly outnumbered. You knelt over Adrik as Zoya, Nadia, Harshaw, and David kept the crowd of enemies back, doing your damnedest to keep him from bleeding out from his nichevo’ya bite. 

His arm hung at a bizarre angle, and you didn’t know how you would tell him and his sister you didn’t think you could save it. You were sure Genya’s whispered words were the only thing keeping him even slightly calm.

By the time the Bittern was in the air, precarious but afloat, you were about ready to collapse. It had all been too damn much, with the Darkling and Baghra and Nevsky, and now the poor schoolboy lying beneath you with an arm you couldn’t save. 

“He’ll be okay,” you murmured to nobody but yourself, wiping beads of sweat from your forehead as you laid against the side of the ship. As okay as any boy who lost his arm to a shadow monster and went through what he just did. 

Thank the Saints for Tolya keeping both Adrik’s and your heart steady during that ordeal, because you were sure your panic would have won over. 

Everyone in your motley crew was injured in some way or another, and you were the only Healer. Soon you were back on your feet, pushing the horrors of the night out of your mind as you mended lacerations and fixed up bullet wounds. 

Every so often, your eyes would drift over to Adrik. You’d healed him the best you could, but it wasn’t enough. 

And then your mind went to Nikolai. 

Nikolai. 

In the chaos of the battle and the subsequent healing haze, you hadn’t even realized he wasn’t with your group. The Pelican had taken off before you all got to the Bittern, but Nikolai wouldn’t have left Alina on her own after all he’d done to ensure her safety. 

You were almost too scared to ask, but you did anyway. 

“Alina,” you asked, slightly surprised at the sound of your voice in the silence of the night, “where’s Nikolai?” 

Her eyes were unfocused, arms crossed around her midsection for warmth despite the light that glowed beneath her skin. “The Darkling,” she murmured. 

“Wh— what did he do to him?” you continued. “What in the Saints’ name happened to him, Alina?” 

“He ruined him,” she whispered. “He turned him into a monster.” The look on Alina’s face broke you into even smaller pieces. “He turned him into a monster all because Nikolai dared to stand against him. He’s gone.” 

Your grip tightened on the side of the ship as she explained what she had to watch, and your knees threatened to buckle. 

Maybe it was stupid, but you hadn’t even realized you cared this much about the prince. The king, you had to keep reminding yourself. But the thought of him hurt—a hurt that you couldn’t heal—it tore your heart to shreds. 

Only last night you were laying on a blanket next to him, staring up at the meteor shower through the glass dome. He’d never looked more beautiful than he did then, with the streaks of light illuminating his handsome features and those hazel eyes you’d grown to appreciate. 

Few words had passed between the two of you, but once Nikolai had taken your hand in his, neither of you let go for the remainder of the night. That urge to kiss him came back in spades, but you never acted on it. 

Saints, you wished you had. 

“Do you think you can heal him?” Your voice sounded oddly foreign, but you didn’t even feel like you were in your body. Like you were watching it all happen from above, because this couldn’t have been happening. Not to Nikolai— to your Nikolai. 

You were his Healer, and he was your Nikolai. That was how it was supposed to be. 

“I don’t know,” Alina admitted, her tone strained. “My light might be able to help, but… but whenever I’ve used it against the nichevo’ya, against the volcra, I— it kills them.” 

Her voice broke on the last few words, and you wanted to hug her. Alina didn’t love him, you knew that much, but anyone could tell she’d grown close to Nikolai over the months. She was hurting just as much as you. 

You didn’t. You found that you couldn’t do much but stare into the night sky.

He was all alone. Forced into a monster, and now he was all alone. 

It felt like ages before the Bittern finally landed, everyone’s teeth stained rust-orange and bones run deep with exhaustion. Everyone was still alive when you woke up the next morning, and after another check-up on Adrik, you went off into the woods under the guise of searching for kindling. 

Really, you needed some time to yourself. After what had happened—Sergei’s betrayal, losing even more Grisha when you had little to start with, Baghra’s sacrifice, Adrik and his arm, and— and Nikolai—

It was too much. It was just too damn much. 

You’d never gotten close like this to anyone before, never moved further than some useless flirtations and a few stolen kisses with various Grisha when you were bored back at the Little Palace, and when you finally did, with the damned future King of Ravka, this is what happened. 

Guilt tore away at you as you plodded through the woods, and you let the tears you’d been holding back all night fall. You wished you’d been there for him. You wished you’d kissed him. You wished you were strong enough to take the Darkling down on your own for what he’d done. 

The hairs stood up on the back of your neck, and you heard the rustling of branches. You whirled around to the source of the sound, taking a few steps to peer through the trees, and that was when you saw it. 

Your eyes widened and your heart cracked all at once. 

“Nikolai,” you whispered. 

You’d have recognized him anywhere. Despite the shadowy veins splintering across his chest, the wings furled behind his back, claws and fangs in place of fingers and teeth—he was still your Nikolai. His blonde curls remained, his sharp cheekbones and strong jaw, even his clever eyes—even if they were black instead of hazel. 

The smear of blood around his mouth was a sharp contrast to it all. You wondered what—or who—had become his unlucky victim when he could no longer control his hunger. 

Nikolai didn’t move as you stepped closer. His dark gaze was unreadable and you wanted to sob for what the Darkling had done to him. 

“It’s me.” You continued to speak softly as you moved closer, saying your name in hopes of even a spark of recognition. “Your Healer.” 

His eyes followed your movements, his gaze falling down to your hands. He pointed at them with a clawed talon.

You held them up. “My hands?” 

You realized the blood around his mouth wasn’t the only bit of it on his body as your eyes trailed across his bare chest. There were cuts all across his arms and chest, most small but some deeper. He pointed at a thin scar near his abdomen, the only sign of the bullet wound you’d stitched up. 

He wanted you to heal him. He knew who you were. 

This time, a small sob escaped you, and your hand flew up almost on instinct to cover it. You brushed the tears brimming in your eyes as you moved closer to him, and you gently placed your hand on his arm. You felt his limb stiffen for a moment before they relaxed, and you couldn’t help your small smile. Your Nikolai was still there. 

The thin cut vanished as you healed it, and you continued to do the same for the myriad of other injuries on his body. You felt his gaze on you the entire time, and some part of it was comforting. Nikolai was still there—his humanity was still there. This was the least you could do to make him feel the part. 

Once you’d healed up the last of his wounds, you felt the glow of Grisha power inside of you. Nikolai grabbed onto your hand the moment you’d finished, and you looked up into his dark eyes as your fingers clasped around his talons.

“We’ll figure this out, Nikolai,” you whispered. “I promise.”

The corner of his lips curled up ever so slightly, the barest sign of the old smile you’d grown to love.

And then he let go of your hand, and he shot up into the air. It took only seconds for him to disappear, but your gaze remained stuck in place. 

All you could think of was Nikolai’s dark eyes and the shattered shadows beneath his skin, the feel of his taloned hand in yours.  

You would find a way to bring him back. You knew that much. 

5. The Shadow Fold 

“For Saint’s sake— catch him, Zoya!” 

“You screeching at me isn’t helping,” she snarled, her hands held out above her as she summoned wind to break Nikolai’s fall. 

It was almost laughable, how Alina ended it all with a bit of stabbing. First Mal, then the Darkling—now Soldat Sol and oprichniki alike were glowing like human lamps around the Fold. The nichevo’ya dissolved with the Darkling’s power, the same thing that created Nikolai’s monster—you screamed in general when you first saw him falling, and then you screamed at Zoya. It was a credit to her growth that she didn’t slap you first. 

Thankfully, the updraft did its job, and he only landed in the sand at concerning speeds rather than very concerning. 

You ran for him without thinking, not even feeling the jolt in your ankles as you lept from the skiff onto the sands. You no longer had to fear the Fold—the various Sun Soldiers that had gotten Alina’s powers had done away with the remainder in no time—and even if you did, you would brave a thousand volcra for Nikolai. 

He looked so small, so vulnerable laying there in the sand, only clad in torn pants and a myriad of bruises. The last of the shadows receded when you finally reached him, and you didn’t try to stop the tears as they flowed freely down your cheeks. 

“Nikolai,” you whispered, falling to your knees in the sand next to him, “Nikolai, can you hear me?” 

You cradled his head in your hands, tears splattering in the sand around you, and then his eyes opened. 

His beautiful hazel eyes opened and looked right at you, his lips tugging into a smirk as he said your name. 

“Would you say this is an important princely thing?” His voice was husky, damaged from whatever dark thing that had taken a hold of him, but the usual lilt was there. “Or just another injury?” 

You broke into full on sobs, unabashedly and unashamed as you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a hug. You felt his arms around you as well, and he rubbed circles on your back. 

“I had time to think,” Nikolai murmured, “and I think I’ll settle on lapushka.” 

Darling. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, and you moved away from him just so you could look at him, gaze at him, never forget his beautiful features. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” 

“I knew I would be,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “I had you looking out for me.” 

“Stop,” you said, your voice watery. “I can’t keep crying in front of you.” 

“I think you’ve more than earned it, lapushka.” 

You laughed again as you shook your head. “How do you feel? Can you still move all your limbs?” 

Nikolai took his hand in yours, fingers intertwining with yours. His gaze didn’t move from you. “Limbs are fine.” 

You let your smile shine unabashed as you squeezed his hand, thankful for the lack of talons. “Can you sit up?” 

Nikolai visibly winced at the effort, but he managed with your help. “My chest hurts quite a bit.” 

“You’ve definitely broken some ribs,” you murmured, “but it’s nothing I can’t fix up.” 

“There’s nothing you can’t fix,” Nikolai said. 

“Careful with all the praise. I might get used to it.” 

“Good.” 

You glanced over to see Tolya and Zoya moving across the sand towards you and you looked back at Nikolai. 

“We’re going to get you back on the skiff, Nikolai,” you said. “I’ll get you healed up and then we’ll get you some clothes. Alright?” 

“I told you,” Nikolai said, “this is your reward for putting up with the irritating prince.” 

“That was for the prince,” you said, running a hand through his blonde curls to untangle them. “My reward for putting up with irritating kings is to make sure they’re clothed and healed.” 

His smile shone brighter than anything Alina could conjure up. 

The Darkling’s Skiff 

You ended up below deck with Nikolai, Tolya, an unconscious Alina and Mal, and the Darkling’s body. It normally wouldn’t have been a cheery atmosphere, but you were just thankful to be alive after all you’d done. Thankful that Nikolai was alive and himself and that the Darkling was dead. 

A First Army uniform was folded next to Nikolai’s makeshift cot where you sat next to him, and Tolya’s companionable silence was appreciated as he stayed by Alina and Mal to ensure they stayed alive. 

“You broke a few ribs in your fall,” you murmured, your hands placed on his chest, “but overall, I’d say you made out pretty well.” 

“Yes,” Nikolai said wryly, looking at his hands. Faint black lines ran across each of his fingers, where claws had torn through his skin. Though the other shadowy marks had faded, these appeared to be permanent. “Pretty well.” 

“You know what I mean, Nikolai.” You moved your hand over his ribs and focused your power—by the slight grimace on his face, the itch that came along with Grisha healing, you knew they were mending back together. “You’re still alive. You’re you again. That means everything.” 

“And your hands are still freakishly cold,” he mused. You smiled. 

A moment passed before he spoke again. 

“You know,” Nikolai said, and you felt his eyes on you again, “I remember everything. Everything that I did when I was that… that thing.” 

Your throat bobbed, but you nodded, encouraging him on. 

“I went to you,” he said, “and… you helped me. You weren’t afraid—you understood what I meant, and you healed me.” 

“Of course I did,” you said softly. A smile tugged at your lips. “I am your Healer, after all.” 

Nikolai placed his hand over one of yours, and your power wavered for a moment as your heart stuttered. 

“One of your ribs is still broken, Nikolai,” you said. “I have to—” 

“I love you,” he interrupted. Your eyes snapped to him, and you thought you misheard him. 

“What?” 

“I love you,” he repeated, as if it came as easily to him as breathing. “Forgive me for the lack of ballads and sonnets on how to express it—I plan to remedy that as soon as we’re back in Os Alta. But I love you, and it’s the one thing I’m sure of at this moment.” 

You continued to stare at him, as if you’d suddenly forgotten how to speak. Nikolai was no Corporalnik, but you were sure he could hear how loudly your heart was beating. 

“It’s alright if you don’t feel the same,” Nikolai said, “or if you’re not ready. I’m a very patient man.” 

It was like your limbs had suddenly regained the ability to move, because something clicked in your mind. You took his face in your hands and you kissed him with a brazen fierceness you didn’t even know you had. 

For a man with two bruised ribs and one broken one, he kissed you back with the same intensity, if not more. You poured all your fear, all your anxiety, all your worries about him into the kiss, reveling in the warmth of his lips and his hands and—

Tolya cleared his throat. “We’re nearly out of the Fold.” 

You pulled away as quickly as it had started, Nikolai looking very pleased with himself as you fixed the collar of your kefta and looked over at him with eyes that were surely more pupil than iris. 

“Thank you, Tolya,” you said, and you cleared your throat as well. Good of him to ignore the two of you. Embarrassing of you to nearly forget about your surroundings when you looked at Nikolai. 

“Yes,” Nikolai said, mirth in his voice, “thank you, Tolya.”

You rolled your eyes as you turned back to him, your lips still burning from his kiss, and you settled your hands back on Nikolai’s chest. 

“No more interruptions,” you said. “I’ve got to get you healed and dressed before we’re off the sand.” 

His eyes twinkled. “Whatever you say, lapushka.” 

You had no idea what was next. The Sun Summoner died on the Fold, the Darkling’s reign of terror was finally over, and Nikolai was to be King. You didn’t know where you would fit in, though you were sure he would find a place. 

But you loved Nikolai, and by the Saints, Nikolai loved you. 

And for now, that was more than enough. 

[why-are-you-still-awake]

How would Shikamaru,Neji, Sasuke react to Vampire s/o

A/n: i love vampires! Thanks for the request! I’m going to try a new format so bear with me. I also think this is the first time i wrote about Shikamaru. I’ve made shorter bullet points but with more concepts.

Characters: Shikamaru, Neji, Sasuke

Warning/content: mentions of blood, biting, gn reader, blood kink(maybe?),did I miss anything?

Shikamaru Nara

♥ At first he didn’t know what to think, he always thought vampires were fake. After he found out he didn’t start treating you different, he didn’t care, like at all. It was very surprising for you. ♥

♥ He understands when you don’t want to go outside, contrary to popular belief you don’t burn in the sun, you just get a very uncomfortable rash. And hey if you don’t go outside then he doesn’t have to either.♥

♥ Since Shikamaru sleeps quite a bit and well you don’t, he’ll just wrap his arms around your waist and not let you up. He really loves holding you but will deny it when in company of his teammates; he has a reputation to uphold after all. ♥

♥ Does he let you bite him? Yes, yes he does, he knows you need nourishment and he doesn’t want you near anyone else, you’re his after all. But secretly he finds the feeling of you sinking your teeth into his neck arousing. ♥

♥ You really try to be careful whenever you’re feeding from him because you really don’t want to hurt him. He means too much to you. However there has been times when you went a little overboard and made him dizzy. He wasn’t very happy about that but he couldn’t find it in him to be mad after seeing how remorseful you looked. ♥

♥ If you don’t drink blood for awhile, you get moody and Shikamaru can’t help but tease you, knowing that his attitude might just get him pinned to the wall. ♥

♥ He’ll be honest, he was kinda freaked out at first when he found out you were a vampire. He didn’t want you to feel bad but he felt uncomfortable. He knew it’d take some time to get used to. ♥

♥ Neji finds you fascinating, despite his original hesitation he couldn’t help but want to learn more about you and your experiences as a vampire. Once he got over his discomfort he’d ask to see your fangs like I said, he was fascinated by you. ♥

♥ Like Shikamaru he’s very understanding when you need sleep and how your sleep schedule is less than orthodox. He likes when you stay with him at night when you’re usually awake and just lay in bed with him while he sleeps. It makes him feel safe. ♥

♥ Does he let you bite him? At first it was a resounding absolutely not, as much as he loved you his fear still ran deep even if he didn’t show it. Before he got comfortable, your fangs made him nervous but after an awhile he opened up more to the idea and finally let you bite him. He enjoyed it much more than he’d confess.♥

♥ He understood your nature and the fact you could get a little too passionate sometimes and accidentally bite too hard. In order to not upset you he tries to suppress the pain he’s feeling but it’s evident all over his face. He was relieved when you apologized and licked the excess blood away. ♥

♥ As a vampire you definitely have mood swings, he’s fairly good at handling them by keeping calm and not turning it into something bigger than it needs to be, he gets that you can’t control it. ♥

♥ He definitely wasn’t as freaked out as Neji, it intrigued him more than anything. Wasn’t a big fan of the idea of being bitten though, he’s seen horrible things so he didn’t mind you being a vampire. ♥

♥ He learns to appreciate your culture as a vampire and humor in your deep seated hatred of most vampire media for obvious reasons. He didn’t get much sleep at night so it was nice to have someone to stay up with him.♥

♥ As I mentioned, he enjoys your non existent sleep schedule because he doesn’t like to be alone at night. So the fact that you can stay up with him is amazing and relieving to him. It doesn’t matter what you two do together he just wants to be with you, no matter how much he denies it.♥

♥ Now the pressing question; does he let you bite him? Surprisingly yet unsurprisingly yes he does but not without hesitation the first few times, he’s not sure how he feels about the feeling of his blood leaving his body, it’s not like you’re rough with him but it’s still sharp objects piercing the skin. He gets that’s how you eat and is happy to supply.♥

♥ Now, he has a very high pain tolerance so truly you can bite him as hard as you want to an extent. Just *not* his curse mark, that’s a big no no for obvious reasons. But let’s say you bit him a little too hard, he’d flinch but wouldn’t say anything. He loves you and wants to help you as best you can.♥

♥ When you get grumpy, Sasuke can’t help but be amused by this development. Now he wouldn’t purposely try to make your life harder however when he gets the chance to tease you he will. It’s a way of showing affection.♥

A/n: I hope this was okay! I tried a new format so tell me if you like it better than my other one and I’ll keep doing this one. Thank you Anon for the request I definitely had lots of fun writing this.

Tagging: @ssailormoonn @your-sexual-curiosities

[yuyusuyu]

bloody hell — forgive and forget

synopsis. oh, if only, if only she hadn't crossed paths with him. then maybe, just maybe, all of this could've been avoided... except, it was bound to happen by fate. there was no escaping the fate that was given to you at birth.

pairing. ot8! vampire! ateez x fem! reader (not poly! everyone will have their own ending!)

genres/aus. vampire au, suspense, romance, angst, slow burn

warnings. mentions/description of blood, arguing, cursing, jongho about to throw hands oop, mention of k wording someone help. if there's anything i should add, please lmk !

rating. pg-13

wc. 2.6k lol...

a/n. this was nawt proofread... super duperrr sorry for uploading late !! was very busy and am very busy right now but things should calm down next week heh.

send an ask in my inbox or leave a comment to be added to the taglist! reblogs and comments are appreciated! helps with not getting shadowbanned!

YOU ABSENTMINDELY TAP YOUR PEN ON THE DESK, your eyes reading over and over again what you had written down in your notebook.

MIDTERM

Find someone whose first/native language isn’t Korean + do a presentation on the phoneme of their language and choose one interesting phonetic element of that language and do a more in depth look at it

includes recordings + analyzing

MANDATORY TO FIND A SENIOR TO DOUBLE CHECK THE WORK (prof said she doesn’t want to do it and is lazy)

the last bullet point you wrote down makes you snicker—your professor is a prime example of how blunt she is— and shake your head, deciding to finally close it and put it away. the lecture room is empty now, your classmates having left minutes ago after the clock hit one in the afternoon. you remained in your seat to avoid their trampling, and quite frankly, you want to remain there.

but your phone buzzes, vibrating against the table and reminding you that you have to get going if you want to get there in time.

you grab your phone, your finger right over the screen.

jjongs: are you out?

you get up from bed, sluggishly walking to the kitchen to drink a cup of water, walking past jongho as he leans against the wall outside your door. it was when you had filled up your glass cup and brought it to your lips that he spoke softly.

“why didn’t you text me yesterday?”

he remains in his spot, his head hung low while he waits. three gulps and the cup is empty; you turn your back towards him and head to the sink, beginning to wash it. “i forgot.”

“you forgot?” his tone is… weird. not quite mad, but in disbelief? he doesn’t believe you, and you don’t know why. you’ve never lied to him, never given him a reason to not trust you.

“yeah,” you answer, scrubbing the inside of the cup harshly with the sponge, creating a lot of foam. “i forgot. why?” you pause for a second. “you don’t believe me?”

he scoffs, and you hear him walk closer to you by the way his voice gets louder. “did you really forget? you usually don’t forget anything at all.”

“well, this time i did.” you open the tap, staring intently at the water wash away the soap. “why are you asking?”

“i just think you’re lying.”

this time you scoff, finding it absurd that he’s telling you that. “why the hell would i lie to you?” is he really trying to argue with you right now? this early in the morning? the thought makes you angry.

jongho’s eyes widen the slightest bit when you turn around abruptly. you’re glaring at him, waiting for his next words, missing the fact his eyes are a shade darker than normal, like the color of obsidian, no hint of the usual brown in them. “kou told me he saw you with a man by the pharmacy at the corner. did you go on a date? did you even go to work yesterday?” the words spill from his lips before his mind even processes them.

“you’re kidding right?” when jongho stays silent, you dryly laugh. “jongho, are you even listening to yourself? you know i would never skip work: he’s too important. i work for kou, i work so i can pay the damn bills. did i go on a date? please,” the anger fades from your features, replaced by an odd calmness. “don’t make me laugh by asking stupid questions, jongho.”

“it’s not stupid,” he says, his gaze hard. “i was worried the whole time.”

“maybe you should stop worrying.”

jongho falters, blinking once, then tensing. “what?”

you shrug, “you heard me. maybe you shouldn't worry about me anymore.” you lift your hand and point at the door. “you’ve overstayed your welcome.”

you glance away. should you text him? apologize for what happened in the morning? or do you ignore him until you both forget about it? well, the third one isn’t the best to do right now, but—

the phone buzzes again, and you glance down just in time for the screen to show another message.

song mingi (womanizer? co worker): are you clocking in today?

“what?” you squint at the screen. “what is he talking about?”

another message pops up on your phone.

choi soobin (good co worker): i have sumn to tell you today ;/

choi soobin (good co worker): SHIT I DINT MEAN THAT

choi soobin (good co worker): I MEATN ;/

choi soobin (good co worker): WAITTTA3TTT

choi soobin (good co worker): I MEANT :/

you clear your throat.

choi soobin (good co worker): can i have a do over

choi soobin (good co worker): i need to redeem myself

you: have at it

choi soobin (good co worker): i have sumn to tell you today ;/

choi soobin: WAITITJITK

you: i’ll see you soon then

choi soobin: NO GIRL COME BACKKCKE GIMME ANOTHER CHANCE OLSSSS

“how silly,” you chuckle, checking the time.

jongho should be gone by now, hopefully already on his way home. there’s no way he’d wait out by the parking lot for you.

except he is, or rather, he just happens to be near the parking lot. when you spot him, walking down the path with two guys, you see that he’s staring intently at his phone. then, he looks up, as if he knew you were looking at him, and meets your gaze.

he leaves his friends behind, though they trail after him, and he's quickly in front of you, his other friends right next to him. jongho is rubbing the back of his neck, a sheepish expression painting his features. “i—”

“you have got to be kidding me.”

a quick look to the right has your lips curling into a frown, seeing the redhead from days ago scowl at you. the redhead, wooyoung, glowers at you as if you’re some insect he can’t bare to look at, averting his gaze to the side and huffing. “just my damn luck…”

“well, you’re a rare sight around these grounds.”

you, jongho, and wooyoung snap your heads to the left: a man with black hair and cat-like features smiles at you. you’re about to bite back with a snarky comment on how he sounds like he’s talking in the medieval ages but with a modern twist, but wooyoung is quick to beat you to it.

“san,” wooyoung leans forwards to look at the male, “who the hell talks like that?”

san and wooyoung get into a heated argument, and you take this opportunity to step to the side and walk away with brisk steps, holding onto your bag with such strength your knuckles turns a shade paler. but you don’t make it far when jongho wraps a hand around your wrist. he’s gentle, afraid that one wrong movement will have you fleeing from him.

you look over your shoulder. “what?” your tone is harsher than what you wanted for it to sound, it has you wincing as your best friend grimaces.

his eyes, you note, are now it’s usual deep brown hue, though lighter now that the sun shines down. “i wanted to apologize for what happened this morning.”

his shoulders are tense while yours relax. you feel like a weight has been lifted off you now, like you can finally breathe. “you were an ass.”

“i know i was.”

“and you were being unreasonable.”

he huffs through his nose, the corners of his lips twitching. “you’re right.”

you swivel around and narrow your eyes at him. “and you were being weird. how the hell did you jump to the conclusion that i was seeing someone?”

jongho kicks a foot against the pavement of the sidewalk, looking down as if, suddenly, his shoes are the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. “the… the demons inside me took over. like, literally.”

“the… demons?” you repeat, confused.

he looks up, looking sincere. “yeah… i just, i genuinely don't know what happened to me. the demons literally took over and i ended up losing my cool.” jongho pauses, eyes darkening for single second while he thinks, and turns his attention back to you, the usual deep brown back. “it must be the stress getting to me and i took it out on you in such a horrible way. i truly am sorry, y/n.”

he means it, you know he does. jongho taps a finger against the side of his leg, something he does when he's nervous.

“apology accepted.”

jongho brightens, “really?”

“yeah,” you smile, deadpanning the next second, “but no more pulling whatever the hell you pulled in the morning.”

“i promise that won’t happen again.” he beams, taking a step closer to you. his arms open up, and you huff through your nose and shake your head.

jongho’s hugs are always warm when you decide to indulge in them every once in a while. he never has a tight grip around you, it’s always gentle but firm. they’re nice and manage to ease your worries and whatever tension you have away.

“i’m sorry too, you know,” you mumble against the fabric of his hoodie. you realize then it’s the one you gave back to him yesterday by the smell of the expensive detergent mixed with that of the cologne he usually wears.

“what for?”

“i said some pretty hurtful things.”

“well, i deserved them.”

you don’t say anything else, instead closing your eyes and letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. that is, until someone decides to break this moment of tranquility.

“wait…” san points an accusing finger at jongho, who merely tilts his head in confusion. “don’t tell me…”

“what?” both jongho and wooyoung say.

“is she your girlfriend?”

“what?” the statement is so absurd that it has you reeling away from jongho, squinting your eyes at san like he just said something you can’t comprehend.

jongho lets his arms fall to his side. “no.”

“oh,” san breaks out into a smile. “you don’t mind if i steal her from you then?”

your best friend scoffs and ignores san. “listen,” he says, glancing at you. “stay away from those two. they’re… not very good people.”

“then why are you friends with them?” you watch jongho’s eyes widen.

“…it’s complicated,” he grumbles, “just—just don’t get too close to them.”

just don’t get too close to them. jongho’s words echo in your mind, the scene of him dragging both his friends away replaying over and over again. you never knew he was friends with people like them, and your mind can barely wrap around the sudden realization that you actually don’t know anything regarding jongho’s personal life.

there’s a tug at your hand that brings you back to the present, eyes falling down to the eleven year old holding it. “sis,” kou says, “we’re here.”

the book store you work at is right in front of you, the words ‘LUCID DREAMS BOOKSTORE’ in gold lettering staring back at you.

the doors chime when you push them open, the smell of coffee hitting your nose. kou lets go of your hand and runs away to his usual table, dropping his things on top and then disappearing into the fiction aisle.

you make your way to the back, reaching out for the handle when the door swings open.

“what are you doing here?”

“no ‘hello?’ no ‘how are you?’” mingi pouts and wipes a fake tear away. “do you hate me, yn?”

“no,” you reply, “but what are you doing here? we don't work the same shifts here.”

your shift buddy here is choi soobin, not song mingi.

mingi grins, “starting next week we will.”

“huh? what happened to soobin?”

the culprit himself comes out from the back, a pout on his lips. “screw this.” he grumbles, his once gloomy expression morphing into a happy one when he sees you. “ynie~”

“ynie?” mingi repeats, an eyebrow raised at soobin’s sudden change in behavior.

“yeah,” soobin says, giving him the nastiest side-eye you’ve ever seen. “because she’s my favorite co-worker and i’m hers, too.”

mingi looks at you with both his brows raised, shocked at the information. “for real?”

you shrug. “yeah,” you say, “soobin’s great to work with.”

“well not anymore,” mingi replies, smiling triumphantly as if he just won a prize.

“what?”

“yeah…” soobin drawls, looking away from your questioning gaze. “mingi and i switched shifts.”

“what—”

“—the hell is wrong with you?”

the door hits the wall with such frightening force that it leaves it broken with a dent. it's such a hideous thing to look at, the dent, that is. it stands out against the other pristine, white walls.

“i assume you’ll be fixing that,” seonghwa looks through the mirror in front of him at jongho, his eyes a deep maroon color, completely different to the bright red coating his lips. “right?”

jongho glares angrily at him, watching as the older male leans down, gripping the neck of the poor girl next to him. the platinum blond opens his mouth, his canines enlarging and about to pierce a new spot.

“tell her to leave.”

seonghwa stops, and his eyes turn into the hue of a ruby. “clean yourself up, bandage your neck. then you will leave this place and forget about it. today never happened.”

the girl stands up, eyes glazed over as seonghwa hands her a cloth and gauze, wiggling his fingers at her as she leaves silently. jongho hears him mumble something about killing her later as an extra precaution.

“what is it that you want, jongho?” he asks, grabbing a napkin from beside him and dabs the blood away from his lips, his eyes going to maroon and then a dark brown. “you interrupted my feeding.”

in the next second, jongho stands in front of him. seonghwa looks at him through his eyelashes, clearly unimpressed with his attitude. “well? you ought to spit out whatever is wrong before my patience wears thin.”

“you had no right to do that.”

seonghwa’s lips curl upwards into a wicked grin, eyes reflecting the amusement he feels. “ah,” he says, “so that's what this is about.”

he continues to speak at jongho’s silent rage. “i was just testing my hypnosis. i guess my theory is correct,” seonghwa doesn't falter when the collar of his white button up is fisted and he is made to lean forwards, “seeing as how it worked on you to some extent.”

“you had no right to do that,” jongho repeats. “absolutely no right.”

his thin fingers wrap around his wrists, tugging them off in one swift gesture. “i don’t understand why you’re so upset at me.”

at this, jongho scoffs, eyes blown wide from the fury that almost blinds him. “don’t understand?” he laughs through his nose, “you don’t understand why i’m so upset? i could’ve lost her because of you charming me!” he falters, the anger replaced by fear at the dangerous glimmer in seonghwa’s delighted eyes.

“so it’s a girl,” he hums. “who you care for the most. i thought it would’ve been hongjoong, maybe even yeosang.”

“don’t ever charm me again.” jongho backs away and crosses his arms over his chest. “don’t think about seeking her out either.”

“i’m not curious enough to do that to your little human,” seonghwa shrugs, “i don’t have enough time for that.”

“then why charm me at all?”

seonghwa smiles, “yunho suggested it.”

“what?”

“he told me i should try charming you to see if it works on you, told me to charm you into hurting the one you most care about.”

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BLOODY HELL | yuyusuyu 2024

[blackleatherjacketz]

Good With All Three

Ari Levinson x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ Only!, NSFW, Explicit Smut, I horny-watched this movie, so I horny-wrote this story, I make no apologies!, Never Have I Ever, Alcohol, Kissing, Ari’s Magnetizing Gaze, Hands, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Vaginal Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Size Kink, Hair Pulling, Praise Kink (for him), Multiple Orgasms

Summary: You and Ari play a late night game of Never Have I Ever and things get very hands-on very quickly.

Word Count: 2.6k+

Tags: @bullet-prooflove​ @skittle479​ @letsby​

Read more of my stories HERE

“Never have I ever had sex in public.” Ari’s prompt leaves his lips as they curl into a smirk, their rosy color masked by the green beer bottle he nearly empties as he leans back in his seat, patiently awaiting your answer.

His questions continue to grow bolder with each sip he takes, ranging from ‘never have I eaten an insect’ to ‘never have I kissed a man’, and now to this. His eyes linger on yours a little bit longer as he draws the last few drops from his bottle, almost as if he can read your thoughts as soon as they darken. He holds your gaze until it finally breaks, venturing down to the patch of chest hair peeking out through his loosely buttoned collar.

You try your best not to envision him shirtless as you finally relent and take a defeated sip of your beer, giving yourself away.

“No shit?” He grins from ear to ear, setting his bottle down before quickly running his hands through his auburn locks. “I’m surprised.”

“Oh, really? Like you haven’t?” Surely someone as confident and attractive as Ari has ended up in a similar situation with someone in the past.

He shakes his head, sitting back up in his seat. “Too risky.” He grasps onto his bottle, examining its empty contents with a regretful sigh. “Gotta keep a low profile.”

“That makes sense.” You pause and think back on your experience in a JC Penny fitting room with your college boyfriend, remembering it with less fondness than you care to admit. “Mine was a long time ago, anyways.” You spin the base of your bottle between your fingers as one last drink swishes around inside it. “Back before all this.”

“Was it fun, at least?” He leans forward with an elbow on the table, a strand of hair falling in front of his eyes as his bottle nearly touches yours. “The thrill of it?”

You shrug your shoulders. “A little. It wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be, though.” You pretend not to notice as his knuckles brush against yours.

“Really? Why not?” His eyes have you again, the dim lighting of your fake resort matching them with the light blue denim of his shirt.

“It was a confined space, and even when he didn’t have that as an excuse… like most guys with big dicks, he didn’t really know how to use it.”

Ari gawks at you with genuine surprise, his eyebrows jumping up into his hairline as they wrinkle his forehead. “Has that been your general experience, or just with him?”

“Mostly everyone. They tend to rely on it too much, you know? And they aren’t very good with their hands or mouths, either.” You consider going into more detail about your past lovers but decide against it, the way he’s looking at you right now suggests a desire for more than historical knowledge.

“That’s a real shame.” He leans in close to you, barely whispering as the top two buttons of his shirt openly reveal his perfectly sculpted chest. “Because I’m big, and I’m pretty good with all three.”

Jesus Christ. He just came out and said it, didn’t he?

You blink a few times to properly register his words, a newfound heat brewing in your belly as you try your best to form a coherent thought. “A little cocky, aren’t we?” You manage to tease, your body picking up on his signals before your brain has the time to talk yourself out of it.

“More than a little.” He bites his lip and touches your knee with his fingertips, his thumb sliding swiftly beneath it. He grins as you try to stifle a gasp, the sudden act of intimacy shocking your touch-starved skin to the core as he gently encases your knee with his palm. He watches intently as you allow him to touch you, silently granting him permission to continue onward as you spread your legs even further apart.

“You don’t think women have lied to spare your feelings just because you’re hot?” You swallow hard and try to focus on the conversation as his hand ventures even further up your thigh, taking his time to close the gap between you.

“You think I’m hot?” He pushes the pads of his fingers toward your center, pressing them into your muscles as his thumb tickles the fine hair on the underside of your thigh.

“Maybe,” you whisper, just now noticing the rings of olive green that surround his pupils.

“Maybe?” He smiles, squeezing the bulk of your thigh as his thumb reaches the hem of your swimsuit. “I’m gonna need you to tell me the truth.” His tone shifts from playful to stern in a matter of seconds, tightening the muscles in your abdomen as he smooths his hand up your pelvis. “You think you can do that for me?” He brushes his thumb underneath the polyester just long enough to skim over your sensitive area.

“Uh huh,” you nod.

“I don’t want you to lie to me like all the other guys you’ve fucked.” He finds the tie on the side of your bikini bottom, pulling on the string that holds it together.

“Okay,” you start, trying your best not to hold your breath as his fingers warm your skin. “I definitely think you’re hot.”

“That’s good.” He unfastens the bow on your hip, his other hand pushing a strand of hair behind your ear as the back of your swimsuit falls onto the seat of your chair. “I think you’re hot, too.” He moves his hand across your hips to the opposite bow, unfastening it in nearly half the time. “Now if only there was a way we could solve both of our problems.”

“If only,” you whisper. You look down and watch him pull the unfastened swimwear off your body, instinctively scooting to the edge of your seat as his skilled fingers find themselves between your folds before you even have a chance to ask.

“Can you be honest?” He curls a finger under your chin and forces you to look up at him, spreading your other lips apart before teasing your clit with his index finger.

“Yes,” you nod your head as he deepens his touch, rubbing it up and down as your moisture begins to collect beneath it.

“Promise me you won’t fake it?” He looks down at his hand for a split second as he sends tiny little pulses of pleasure into your skin, smirking as your breath stills in your chest.

“I promise.” You can barely speak, his intense eye contact and skilled fingers quickly proving your theory wrong as each upward motion intensifies the bliss shooting up into your core.

“I don’t want you to worry about hurting my feelings.” He moves his fingers down the length of your folds, gliding them easily inside your walls as he cradles the back of your head, his lips merely inches from yours. “I can take it.”

“Okay,” you moan into the space between you, grasping onto the loose denim of his shirt as he pushes his digits in even deeper, his knuckles now flush against your skin.

“Tell me what you want.” He reiterates, curling his fingers up and toward him, pressing against that bundle of nerves in order to pull you in closer like a fish on a hook. The legs of your chair screech across the tile floor, almost deafening the both of you as he draws you near, your entire body taking the bait as he repeats the motion over again. “Tell me.”

“I need you to touch me here.” You reach your hand down and grab his thumb, lifting it up and placing it on your clit.

He smiles at your instruction, doing as he’s told before finally leaning in to close the gap between your lips. That stale, faint flavor of beer mixes in with the sea salt still on his skin as you breathe him in, savoring his lips and tongue as they explore your mouth with more fervor than any other lover you could bother to remember. That moan of yours turns into a needy whine as he presses on that special spot from both ends, massaging you from the inside out as his thumb sends signals of immeasurable ecstasy up through your spine and into your brain.

He kisses his way down your lips and chin, his beard scratching your jawline as he moans in return against you, reacting to your silky walls clenching down around his fingers. His mouth leaves a trail of fire down your neck and shoulders, his tongue and lips marking nearly every inch of your chest and stomach with his saliva until he pushes his own chair backward while getting onto his knees.

Instead of pulling his fingers out of you, he keeps his steady rhythm going inside your slick. He looks up at you with intermittent glances of salacious pride as he presses his lips against your inner thighs, sucking scattered bruises into both of them as you softly moan his name. “I don’t want you to say my name again until you come, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, running your hands through his hair as he lifts your leg over his shoulder before diving in completely.

Every bold claim he's made up until now proves to be more than true as he licks a tantalizing stripe up each side of your dripping wet length. He slows his fingers’ pace inside of you, removing his thumb from that special spot only to quickly replace it with his hungry mouth. You try not to sigh too loudly as he laps you up, those eyes of his glancing up from time to time through strands of hair that fall in front of his face as his tongue flicks up and down in a delicately delicious pattern. A mixture of short and long strokes sends signals of euphoria throughout your body, like dots and dashes on the telegraph sending a complete and layered message into your brain until it reaches every inch of your fingers and toes, curling them in on themselves in sheer delight.

You grab a fistful of his hair as you feel yourself shudder, locking onto his eyes as he doubles down, tasting every bit of your flesh as your inner walls clamp down around his knuckles like a vice. You tug on his scalp, holding his head in place as you ride out your orgasm with his name on your lips, gyrating your hips against the tip of his nose as he continues to devour you like a starved man who hasn’t eaten in days.

“Ari!” You finally cry out as the pleasure nearly encompasses you entirely, wreaking so much havoc on your nerves and skin that you’re unsure if you can physically tolerate any more of it. Without thinking, you lift your leg up even further as he refuses to relent, planting it on his shoulder before kicking him off of you and onto the floor.

“How am I doing so far?” He laughs, smirking as he lands backward onto his elbows, the light reflecting off of the clear coat of your arousal on his lips and beard.

“Jesus,” you start, unable to stop your body from shivering in the aftershock as he looks at you like that. “I mean… good, you’re doing good.”

“You’re not lying, are you?” He stands up from his spot on the floor and runs a hand through his hair, his erection more than prominent in his jeans as he approaches you.

Good god, you almost forgot about that part.

“No,” you admit, catching your breath as your muscles continue to shake. “Not after that.”

“I believe you.” He takes your hand and helps you up onto your wobbly feet, walking with you almost as if the two of you are dancing before picking you up and setting you down onto the dinner table in one fluid motion. Your weight pulls against the tablecloth, clinking the dishes together before Ari pushes them out of the way to make room for what he’s about to do.

You can’t help but keep your legs spread apart as he steps in between them, your palm finding its way down his chest and over his clothed cock before unfastening his jeans to finally reveal what’s underneath. “Holy shit.” Your mouth falls open as his dick springs up from the denim you pull down around his thighs, its length and girth more than matching the level of confidence he always seems to have.

“I told you.” He raises his eyebrows before leaning down to kiss your lips again, the tangy flavor of your cunt spreading to each and every one of your taste buds as he brushes his tongue against yours. You savor your own personal zest until you feel him smile and pull away, looking down and spitting on his palm to stroke himself. He grins as you watch him work on himself, cupping his head a few times before noticing your jaw dropping on the floor. “Don’t worry, baby, we’ll make it fit.”

You laugh in utter disbelief as he lines himself up with your opening, gliding the head of his cock over your clit a few more times just to watch you squirm as a deep, guttural moan brews in his chest. He finally decides to push himself in, that moan leaving his lips in little more than a whisper as he begins to fill you up, stretching your velvety walls to capacity. His breath hitches as he disappears between your folds, guiding himself in deeper with more ease than you thought was humanly possible before he eventually bottoms out.

You whine as he holds himself there for a minute, glancing up at you to make sure you’re okay before taking his time to pull out and thrust back into you, giving your muscles room to adjust before he starts chasing his own pleasure. He lets go of himself as he rocks into you, cradling the back of your head as the wooden table beneath you creaks louder with each consecutive movement of his hips. He keeps his other hand on your hip, holding you in place as he drills himself into you, breathing heavily into your kiss as trails of sweat drip down his chest, soaking little droplets onto the fabric of his shirt.

He growls against your lips as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in as close as possible as he feeds your body with a visceral pleasure you weren’t entirely sure existed until now. Keening against him as he continues to fill you up, your overstimulated flesh tightens around him in a rapturous wave that seems to flood your senses even more than it had before. You can feel it rush its way through you, seizing every muscle in your entire body as it squeezes the release right out of him, forcing him to twitch and spasm into your blissful heat. He grunts with his last push inside of you, grabbing onto your ass to get as deep as he can, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix as he coats your inner walls with his orgasm.

He kisses your lips and forehead as he sputters inside of you, keeping himself between your legs as he memorizes how good the sensation of your muscles feels around him before slowly pulling out. “Did I…,” he runs a hand through your hair as he catches his breath, all the blood rushing up to his lips and cheeks. “Did I change your mind?”

“Yeah,” you manage to whisper, continuing to hold him close. “Yeah, you did.”

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Throwing out the Epilogue and Cursed Child, how would you imagine the ending of the series? Like, what comes next after Harry goes to bed after beating Voldemort?

Anonymous asked:

What changes you would like to see in the wizarding world after the war?

Anonymous asked:

If you could rewrite the epilogue of Harry Potter, how would you do it and what changes would you make?

Thank you for the asks, it gave me a reason to try and think more about what I actually want from a post-book 7 story since I usually prefer to diverge from canon before book 7. I already talked a bit about the epilogue here, but this is more of a list of things I would like to see instead of reasons I don't like the existing one. There are going to be a lot of headcanons here, so be ready for that. I don't have something super thought out in terms of how it'll happen or who will be involved in everything in the long run. But I have a few bullet points about the epilogue itself and further in the future for the HP characters.

Like, for the epilogue itself, as I wrote in the past, I'd make it only a few months in the future, not years. What I'd put there is:

Showing a bit of the Golden Trio's friendship, and the three being hopeful about the future.

They are back at Hogwarts for 8th year and offhandedly mention Harry tried to go straight to Auror training and regretted leaving Hogwarts behind so quickly.

Ron was with Harry in Auror training and when Harry told him he was dropping out, Ron dropped out too. Kingsly assures them they could both return and continue the training from the point they dropped out after 8th year (Ron would return, Harry wouldn't).

They all get to worry about a future they weren't sure they'd have.

It's mentioned Neville is helping out Sprout and Harry is helping out the changing roaster of DADA teachers (since McGonagall decided to not really sign one on permanently to avoid the curse until it could be broken).

Some sections of Hogwarts are still a little worse for wear or were rebuilt completely after the battle and it shows.

Society is a little different. I want to see a Hogwarts where houses don't matter as much. Actually, start building the unity the sorting hat sang about. Show Harry has a few Slytherins he's friendly with. Show a pure-blood Slytherin be at least polite to Hermione — show the seeds of change.

Harry and Hermione are both mentioned going to the ministry for various meetings, and we get a hope that the ministry could be changed from within. That the system that let Voldemort and the Death Eaters take over so easily could be helped.

The epilogue won't show the actual changes or politics, just imply they are happening/or will happen. Many of the ex-DA members are primed for key positions in the ministry which would help this change to happen. Still, it would be slow, but now that there is no war, they have time. Like, the epilogue would mention people like Susan Bones getting a good position in the DMLE or something.

They reference rebuilding Diagon Alley and many places that were destroyed along with setting up a war monument and a separate monument for muggleborns.

Basically, I just want to end on a note of hope, of seeing a reason to work towards a future Harry finally had, you know?

But, that note of hope needs to have a bitter taste to it. I'd mention how this year, almost all the students could see the Thestrals leading the carriages to Hogwarts, an entire generation who gazed upon death.

Like, I don't care that much who Harry marries and what he names his kids, so I don't really mind not seeing that and leaving that to each reader to imagine their own future for him. If I were to rewrite the epilogue, that's what I'd do, I'd keep it vague.

As for other things I have in mind for Harry's future after the books, well, I think I mentioned some of them in the post I linked but I'll note down a few:

Harry becomes DADA professor and eventual deputy headmaster for McGonagall and Professor Potter doesn't let an abused kid go unnoticed. He's going to do something about it, for all houses.

Ron does still become an Auror, and I see him getting really good and valued there. I want Ron to become head of the DMLE instead of Harry.

I like to imagine Hermione becoming an Unspeakable actually, I think she'd enjoy it more than politics. Like, as much as she cares, she isn't very politically savvy. She is going to use Harry's Potter Wizengamot seat and war hero status (+ her own war hero status) to help him and other ex-DA members push for more creature rights and changes in the Wizarding World though.

Neville becomes a Herbology Professor and head of Gryffindor, and he and Harry become closer friends when they work together at Hogwarts.

Harry also breaks the DADA curse, either by figuring it out (he's very intuitive about magic and he knows how Tom thinks, so he could figure it out) or the curse recognizes him and just ceases. Even if Harry isn't a Horcrux anymore, I think carrying Tom's soul for so long had a lasting effect, so he just might get a pass. And even if the curse doesn't break, honestly, if anyone knows how to survive a year at Hogwarts when something's out to kill you it's the Boy-Who-Lived. So the curse might break after it fails once because it's Harry James Potter, Master of Death extraordinaire, and exception to magic.

I think Luna continues editing the Quibbler with her father, as well, and after the war, it becomes a real competition for the Prophet. She still becomes a Magizoologist in my headcanon.

Harry would eventually become Hogwarts headmaster, I think, in my version of events. Obviously, this would be way later, but I really see it happening. I'm hoping in his time as headmaster he'll finally fire Binns and get an actual history teacher into this school.

As for shipping, in my ultimate vision, Harry and Theo get together either during 8th year or by meeting in the ministry, maybe in Wizengamot warlock conventions (since Theo's father was a Death Eater and is either dead or in Azkaban, it'll be Theo there). I believe Theo wasn't actually in Britain during book 7 and the war and that's how he got out of being a Death Eater. He wasn't mentioned among the Slytherins that were in Hogwarts, so it's possible. I disagree with everything Cursed Child did to my boy Theo Nott except him being an Unspeakable since I can see that happening. His and Hermione's work dynamic in the DOM could be really fun, I think and it might be how he and Harry start talking.

For everyone else, I'm honestly less picky. I'm fine with Ron and Hermione together at the end, but I'd also be fine if they won't be, so 🤷‍♀️

[ariseur]

May I request a headcanon for Sephiroth with an S/O who loves to sing?

sephiroth with someone who loves to sing hc’s 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

sephiroth (ffvii) x reader

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

i wrote this while watching ‘isle of dogs’ and now i wanna cry a little bit 😞

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

mentions and two to four bullets of post nibelheim sephiroth, intended lowercase, lmk if i missed anything 💕!!

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

❥ getting started right away, i think this would be like heaven for both pre nibelheim and post nibelheim sephiroth.

❥ when i first read this request, i couldn’t stop thinking about this one image where sephiroth’s just flat out-tired and he comes home, utterly collapsing into your arms until you finally give into his pleas to sing to him. and when you finally look back down at him, you see him all tranquil resting his head on your lap— hair splayed out beneath him in an almost ethereal manner. so great, now you have a 6’1” / 185cm first class SOLDIER sleeping on you. i almost imagine sephs like a really big cat in this scenario— .. or any scenario, really.

❥ i think it soothes him to a great degree, even hearing your voice while you speak to him is an honor in itself. so after a tiring day, your voice is just what he needs.

❥ god forbid you’re insecure about your voice or you think you don’t sing well, this man will prove you wrong and he will leave no room for argument. it’s not even like he means to be so stubborn, he just doesn’t understand how anybody could find your voice unappealing for you are the siren and he is the sailor— waiting to be lured into your trap for one sliver of hope once more.. except you wouldn’t eat him.

❥ i love the idea that sephiroth just appears around random corners, or like, he’s so quiet you don’t notice when he’s right behind you. so i just imagine you’re singing or muttering your favorite song while you’re completing whatever mundane task, before turning around and seeing your tall ass lover just admiring you lol. it gets kinda creepy, but he means well i swear. he’s just a tad bit awkward 😭

❥ if you have any career related to singing or if you desire to, sephiroth is your biggest fan!! if you’re already employed as a singer or musician, he will show up to all your performances and just absolutely admire you in awe. if it’s at a club, he might not go considering he’d be recognized— you know, considering he’s labeled as a war hero and an icon of shinra. so he’d feel bad regardless if he went or not because he really wants to support you, but he doesn’t want to steal the spotlight from you because god knows you deserve it.

❥ if you wish to pursue a career in music but you don’t know where to start, he will help you!! he’ll ask everybody and anybody for advice to give to you or to see if they can pull a few strings to get you in somewhere. he’ll want to support you the best he can, after all— you’ve supported him all this time as well, haven’t you? it’s only fair that he does the same, whether you guys were together or not i’m sure he’d still want to support you in whatever way he can.

❥ while post-nibelheim seph still loves your voice, he doesn’t care all that much as he would before nibelheim. he’s too busy plotting revenge on the world, you know, because this planet IS his birthright after all. he’ll still encourage you to sing; he promises that once he has control over this world— the world that he believes was promised to him, he’ll put your face everywhere for everyone to see and come to your shows as he wants them to witness your glory and talent before them.

❥ i’d like to think there’s at least a sliver of humanity in sephiroth after the events that took place in nibelheim, and i believe he only wants to be loved after so many years of being deprived of genuine affection and adoration. so i’m imagining that one day, he uncharacteristically falls into your arms ( and if you had met him pre-nh then i’d imagine you’d tear up at least a little bit thinking sephiroth still has some of his sweetness left in him ), and asks that you sing him something, like how you used to. and sephiroth falls asleep in your arms, clutching your waist as he buries his head in your stomach with a tight hold. just like how he used to.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

“what was that song you sung to me last night?”

you cocked your head at SEPHIROTH’s inquiry, hands still carding through the silkiness of his hair. it was an odd sight to see. the war hero, sephiroth, draped over your body as he rested his chin on your shoulder as he interrupted the quietude, his velvet words almost blending in with it.

“what song?” you asked. you felt small puffs of his breathing on your shoulder as you patted his back. you could tell from his soft breaths that he was tired, almost coming out in sighs rather than deep breaths. you didn’t even have to look at him to guess that his eyes were probably drooping close with just your voice alone.

“i’m not sure,” his voice trailed off into a quiet amused chuckle, his full body weight resting on you, “that’s why i’ve asked you.”

sephiroth could feel your eye roll, even from where he was positioned. and at first, he believed you would’ve given up on trying to recall the song and would instead lay in silence with him, which wasn’t so bad either way.

but then your voice began— and it was like you casted a spell on him. his eyelashes fluttered with each lyric that left your lips, melodies that echoed in his brain constantly only in the form of your voice. hell, he’d even hear a sweet song on the television and he’d imagine it was you behind the microphone, singing those sweet tunes to him as you looked at the camera. it didn’t help how you rubbed his back so soothingly, he could already feel the serenity of sleep overtaking him as the soft whispers of your voice got to him.

he finally let his forehead rest against you, closing his eyes as he made a note of a promise of only to sleep for five minutes— although you both knew that it definitely wouldn’t be just five minutes, not after the day he had. your words faltered for a moment as you let a sweet chuckle slip past your lips at the man before you, trying to stifle your laughter as he groaned at the vibrations in your chest, clearly grumpy in his half-sleepy state.

you kept singing, lulling him into a state of sleep in which he’d dream of you, your voice only fueling his idea of you as a divine being come down unto to bless him, for what reason he doesn’t know— but he’ll enjoy it for just a little bit longer.

[vampkittyxoxo]

Hello there!!!!

I am a big fan of your work and I was wondering if it would be possible for you to write romantic relationship hcs for draco? Any pronouns are welcomed and appreciated!

Of course, I do hope not to pressure you! Please do take your time! And of course, if you do not wish to do this request, that is perfectly alright!!! 😁

-🌮

(btw sorry if my request is incoherent😓)

Thank you all for your requests!! I’ve gotten many people asking for Draco!

And may I say thank you for all the compliments!! You are all so sweet!!

I wasn’t sure if the unlabeled requests wanted romantic or just general hcs so I wrote both.

This is also my third time writing this because tumblr keeps refreshing the app if I even change the app for a second, so sorry if this feels rushed!

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Draco romantic/general headcanons

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

~ Obviously, his favorite genre is metal. That doesn’t mean he likes all metal though— he can’t stand sludge metal or glam metal. However, he loves power metal and alternative metal!

~ I’d assume he’s around 23-24 in age, given that he had to have had time to build up his audience and find his sound.

~ Draco would be a bit on the tall side, maybe around 6’3-6’5 (roughly 190-196 cm). He has a nice build that comes naturally from a fast metabolism.

~ Admittedly… He really wants to start drawing. However, Draco thinks he’s too old to start now, so he opts for doodling dragons and wyverns in his free time.

~ Draco has quite a special interest in dragons… and of course, the obligatory hyperfixation on Wings of Fire in middle school. I mean, it was bad. He was telling all his friends about it, made every class project somehow correlate to Wings of Fire, and even wrote... fanfiction.... granted it was terrible considering he was 12. (I am not speaking from past experience with warrior cats.... no....)

~ He has a pretty decently sized vocabulary. This is mostly from reading lots of poetry and literature to help him with lyrics, but he is also smarter than he looks.

~ Draco has always been bad at making friends despite being popular now. He doesn't know how to talk to people for the first time and isn't sure what's all socially acceptable and what isn't. In middle school, he had a small group of four people, himself included, but he was always the odd one out. Then, in high school, he went through three different friend groups of varying sizes. It was very hard for him to maintain friendships, meaning lots of lunch periods were spent alone.

~ He was a theatre kid. I stand by this. Before he got actually good at singing, he practiced by getting supporting roles in school plays during high school.

Romantic Headcanons

~ Yes, he's popular. No, he's never had a real partner. You're what he considers his first.

~ Draco is very, very nervous at the start. The first time he saw you, even if you were dressed lazily, he was awestruck. Given his past with friends, he was very hesitant to talk to you. But God, the way you smiled at him, he forgot all about his past and made conversation.

~ While in the talking/friend stage, he gushes about you through song lyrics he writes in his journal. He would never show you or even tell you about it, though. Maybe 40 years past marriage, on his death bed he would...

~ As friends, Draco tells you about his music (if you're already not a fan... if you are a fan, that's another bullet point). If you react positively, he feels so validated and falls for you even harder.

~ Had you already known he's decently popular, Draco worries that you're only talking to him because of that fame. He obsesses over this fear for a week before finally giving in and asking for assurance.

~ He waits forever to ask you out-- he really wants to make sure you're giving signs that you like him before he does anything. And when he does, he doesn't make it a huge deal. After he takes you home one night, while saying your goodbyes, he pauses to ask if you would be his partner. When you say yes, he has to contain every ounce of his excitement to not look weird or desperate.

~ At the beginning, he's very hesitant to make any big steps forward. You're his first real partner, after all. He starts small with hand-holding, then gradually works up to other forms of affection.

~ He loves touching you, though. Even hand-holding is enough to get him flustered and giggling. He cuddles with you when watching shows or movies, before you're about to go to bed, or any other time he can make an excuse to hold you (or be held by you...). He's mostly the big spoon-- he loves the feeling of protecting you, so to speak-- but he enjoys being held every once in a while.

~ His main love languages are physical touch and quality time. Considering he probably gets gifts all the time from fans, gifts don't mean anything super special to him as it would to most normal people. He does appreciate it when you praise him or reassure him that he's not a bad person/musical artist/etc.

~ Draco will take you on every tour he goes on-- if you want to come with him that is. If you decide to go, he'll show you around every town you stop in, spoil you with good food and small presents, and make sure your trip is just as fun as his. Obviously, you get right up to that barricade at his shows.

~ He would discuss this with you first, but if you were comfortable with it, he would totally bring you up to the stage so you could sing the backing vocals for a song. He would introduce you as his partner (sorry to the other fans in the crowd... sorry Edgar...) and he would make sure the crowd likes you.

~ If you decide to stay home, he's facetiming you every chance he gets. He would probably set his phone up somewhere on the stage so you can watch the show as well. He misses you lots and lots and lots whenever he's away.

~ Draco has definitely written a few songs about you. He just prays you two never break up, because some are his most popular songs...

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

This is all I can think of right now... if I ever come up with more I'll make a new post. Requests are open <3

[mxtantrights]

un-ordinary human

a/n: okay I mean it FINAL PART. now I did say I wanted to give you angst, so don't be surprised! that being said if you want a short blurb or bullet points about this story after this def come into my inbox and tell me!!! <33 hope you enjoy (and if you see mistakes, know that I am but a feeble human who wrote this all in one go because I had one (1) idea) thank you again for all the love!!!

part one | part two

The portal lay open in front of you. The swim would be short. You would have to hold you breath for at least ten seconds, which you could do. And then you would go through the portal and be back home.

They weren't sure how it worked. If the same amount of time would have passed there as it did here. If it had been years since you left, or maybe just weeks or hours.

You sigh.

"Leaving them without saying goodbye, little human?" Amren asks.

You turn around to face her. There she is leaning against a wide tree, her arms crossed over her chest. She was the one who knew you wanted to leave tonight. You hold told her as such and said goodbye to her.

But not so much the others. Not Azriel or Eris.

It's not that you wanted to hurt them. But you thought it best to leave without being so dramatic. And without having any more conversations about your love life, or lack thereof.

"I think it's better this way." you answer.

"Or you're just being a coward. And you don't want to get hurt again." Amren pipes in.

She walks over to you slowly. You watch as her arm detangle from themselves. And then she's taking your hands into hers.

"It's okay to want to protect yourself. Just don't lie about it, epically to me." Amren adds on.

You smile sadly, "I'll miss you so much."

"I know. But our friendship wasn't meant to happen. So even this little time we did have, I will cherish." she says.

You can't help the tear that slides down your cheek. Amren swipes it away and smiles with you. You sniffle as she grabs onto your shoulders and shakes you bit.

"I'm going home." you say quietly.

"You're going home." she agrees.

She lets go of you. You take a step back and compose yourself as best you can. You roll your shoulders back and you take a deep breath.

Then you do it. You walk into the lake, you walk and walk until the water reaches your waist. You look back at Amren who gives you a small wave. You wave back.

You hold your breath and dive underwater.

-

There's only one word you can use to describe your world now.

Madness.

Walking through the portal was the best decision at the time for you. You could finally go back home, be normal again. Not have to worry about someone picking you off like prey simply because you are human.

But you couldn't possible expect this.

While you only spent less than ten years with the fae, it's been more than fifty years back home. Meaning everything you ever had is gone, everything you've ever known is changed, and almost everyone you knew is fifty years older than you.

You realized very quickly that you couldn't stay in the place you called home. How could you? Walk around with the same face from fifty years ago? They would call you a witch, they would do awful and vile things to you.

So you made the lonesome trek across the canary isles to the other side. Where no one had heard of you, had ever seen you before. And just for added assurance you changed your name too.

The rumbling began a year after you came back.

You'd feel it pass during the day at work at the local inn, or at night while your were sleeping. And sure enough when you'd go outside the next day there was a new crack in the ground. Cracks spanning for miles. Some ran deep, some were just surface level.

But you knew, you knew what was happening.

How the Canary Isles were rocked by powerful tremors and then sunk. Reemerging as the court of nightmares. You' don't know what scares you most, knowing that the very ground beneath you feet will be submerged underwater at any given moment or that what comes after is fae, and other magical beings.

You wouldn't run. You wouldn't run no matter how much your mind screamed at you to go. And you had plenty of opportunity to. It's not like you would need to pack anything either. Your pay at the inn was enough to eat, bathe and house yourself.

But you couldn't find it in yourself to abandon your home land. Or the people. You couldn't convince all of them that something bad was going to happen without coming off as a with or heretic. So you stayed, you waited, and waited.

All that waiting you did just made you sad. Sad for what was to come, and sad that you didn't say goodbye to Azriel and Eris. You left without a word, without a thought for their pain. You only thought of yourself.

You've regretted it since coming back. But the portal only worked once for you, and closed immediately after.

You waited for five years after the rumbling began. Then it happened. The once large island splintered off into four, uneven pieces. You saw a lot of lives lost that day.

And with the help of those who survived you rebuilt. But in the back of your mind you knew it was for nothing because soon the isles would be gone.

It happens on a normal day. When you are off from work, picking up fresh vegetables for a few of your neighbors. You feel it starting. In your feet, the ground shakes. Then the fruits from the stand to your right start rolling off the display. Apples and pears rolling past you.

The ground cracked where you stood. You tried you best to run. And you did make it quite far. You made it all the way to what used to be the old village, but was now chunks of land in the sea. The land just cuts off with no warning.

And you had no choice. When the large crack made it's slithering voyage to you. There was no decision. There was no left or right step to take. Before you knew it, you were falling into the open ground, into the ice cold water.

-

Amren had this feeling in her gut today. She couldn't bother to eat fresh meat, she couldn't keep focused during training the Nesta, and she couldn't bother to really pay attention to Varian.

Something happened. She just didn't know what.

And she would have stayed this way if it weren't for the interruption almost four hours after she felt it but Eris. He winnowed into the kitchen, cheeks flush and eyes wide.

She was the only one there. The only one to witness him like this.

"I can't feel it. The bond. I can't feel it anymore." he got out.

Amren turned to him, "She went home years ago, wouldn't you have felt it then?"

"I'm unsure. But this, it feels cold. Like I'm tied to a piece of ice." Eris answers, his hand placed over his chest.

In a matter of seconds, Azriel comes bursting into the kitchen. He sees Eris, and his very distressed state, and then he takes in Amren. Amren who has a look of worry on her face.

"It's happened. The Isles, they sunk into the water." Azriel speaks.

Eris looks at him bewildered, "But that can't be. She just got there. Are you saying she went home only to die in five years?"

"Maybe the time was different there. We don't know." Amren offers.

"Nyx said that my hands felt cold. I didn't even notice until I asked Cassian to feel them." Azriel confesses.

"Wait, how could you feel something when you-" Amren cuts herself off.

She looks at Azriel then. His eyes down trodden, watery. It was one thing for him to lose someone he really cared for, but this was more emotion that that. This, this was the loss of a mate.

"Is this what it will feel like? Forever?" Eris asks, mainly to himself but still out loud.

He's seemingly too in shock to put together what Azriel just divulged.

Amren felt it then. The feeling she got that morning. It wasn't some enchantment or some new groundbreaking emotion. It was guilt Guilt that she had let you go to your death.

-

A few months later and Azriel isn't himself. He's tried his best but he cannot seem to function at the level he's used to. His hands remind him of you being gone.

He hadn't told anyone. Still hasn't, to this day. But he felt it. He felt it when you asked him why you were so important to them. He felt the bond snap.

And he hid it. He hid it with ease, with the same amount of effort Eris used to hide his bond with you.

Azriel is standing in Rhys' office, waiting for Eris to come in. Apparently he received a letter from Kalias about something important.

The ginger haired male steps into the room and takes Eris in. The dark circles under his eyes, his usual smirk gone. Azriel never thought he'd see the day.

Eris walks in without a word and passes the note to Azriel. He doesn't even look in his direction when he does it. Azriel reads the note out loud quickly.

Special request. In need of Fire abilities. And espionage skills. Urgent item in need of acquiring.

"I don't see why not." Rhys says.

"It's beneath me, is why." Eris scowls.

"The both of you could use this right now. You won't be back to your old selves but maybe it's what you need." Rhys tries again.

Azriel lets a moment pass.

"I'll go on your orders." he says to his friend.

Rhys chuckles, "I don't want you to go because of me. I want you to go because this is something new."

"Bring a flame-thrower. I'm going home." Eris barks.

Eris heads for the door but as soon as his hand lands on the knob, Rhys starts speaking again.

"Kalias called for the two of you. I wouldn't want to risk any court relations because you decided not to show up." Rhys replies.

Eris turns around, angry.

"Who cares about some lost artifact, which is probably all that it is." Eris argues.

"Kalias does. And if you want an alliance with this court, you'll join Azriel." Rhys speaks sternly.

Eris and Azriel pass a look to one another. They haven't been in the same room since that day they both felt her lack of presence.

"Fine."

"Whatever."

-

Kalias leads both Azriel and Eris down a tunnel of ice. One that was being carved open for years. Over a decade of fae had taken their picks and hatchet to this iceberg in hopes of finding something, anything that could clue them into the history of the court.

And for a while it was nothing. Just ice, the ver present chunk of frozen terrain, and then more ice.

Until a few months ago. When a fae swore he saw something larger than a piece of land. With no distinct shape. They took their time and picked and chipped at the ice until they could get close enough to the unidentified object.

But what they soon realized was their tools could very well disturb the state of the object. They could chip at the ice wrong and a piece could break off.

And that's why Kalias needed Eris. A male in the fiercest control of his fire powers that could melt the ice and procure the object. Once he had the object, depending on what it was, he needed to keep it safe. Who best but the spymaster himself?

Kalias stops once he reaches the spot. He points tot he blurted object in the ice.

"You'll need to be very careful. Too quick and you may very well melt or burn the object. But too slow and the very ice beneath us could give way." the high lord says.

"A death mission." Eris grumbles.

"We could winnow out of here before anything bad happens. But that would presumably leave this object lost to us forever." Kalias adds.

"Please don't kill us." Azriel says to Eris.

Eris raises his hand up to the ice wall. Slowly but surely the ice begins to melt. Drips of water landing on the floor and freezing again into ice.

Kalias watches in amazement.

Azriel does too.

The object getting more clear with each passing moment.

Kalias gasps, "That's a body!"

Eris stops for a second. He takes a step back.

"Keep going, Eris." Azriel says.

Eris places both his hands on the sheet of ice wall in front of him. Carefully he use his fire to melt the ice down even more. Not too quick but fast enough. The ice keeps melting, thinning the space between the three of them and the body.

Eris gets close. So close that he is scared of what he might see. Scared that it might be bones wrapped in clothes and garb. Or there might still be flesh on the body.

"Carefully now." Kalias instructs him.

Azriel's shadows come up the shell of his ear. They only ever do that if they have something to say to him. An important detail. A secret. A wrong move.

Eris pushes a bit farther and the body becomes easier to make out. So easy in fact that he feels like he can't stop. He can't stop, and Azriel's shadows seem to make out what the object finally is.

Eris and Azriel gasp at the same time.

There is the sheet of ice, half frozen and half thawed, is you.

-

"She'll be disoriented at best. There isn't any tonics or healing techniques for this type of situation." a voice says above you. It sounds older, feminine.

"But she'll be okay?" another asks. A male voice. A bit low.

"I'll have to check her vitals every few hours. And she shouldn't be crowded by too many faces. But, by my account, she'll be okay." the female voice.

"Thank you so much Majda." a new voice says. Male. A bit lower than the first one.

"Don't thank me yet. The road will be long to recovery."

"I think we'll take it." another voice says. Another female voice.

You try opening your eyes but they feel so heavy. And everything feels so cold. It wasn't like you to feel this cold. The Canary Isles weren't cold like this. This feels like a tundra nipping at the blood in your body.

You groan at the feeling.

"She's getting up. I need the three of you back."

You can faintly feel someone's touch on you. If you're in bed, there should be no one in your home. You live alone. But maybe something happened?

You try to speak but your throat feels sore.

"Don't try to speak just yet. You'll need something for that. When you're ready I want you to open your eyes." the older females voice says.

You swallow. Then you try opening your eyes again. It happens slowly. You feel like you have to peel them open, but they open. There is no light where you are. Which is weird because you sleep with the curtains half open usually.

The scent in front of you is very blurry. You can make out one face in front of you.

"Shake your head for no, and nod for yes. Can you see me?" she asks.

You shake your head. You reach up for your eyes but you feel her grab onto your hands.

"I applied something to your eyes to help you open them. But I'll wipe it off now before you rub it in." she says.

You nod your head once. She tells you what you're about to feel. And when you fell the damp cloth across your eyes your still flinch. But you let it happen.

As she wipes your vision clears up. And you can finally place her. Majda. If this is Majda, then that means...

Your heart starts racing.

"She's panicking. I need hands. Now." She says behind her back.

Which makes you look to what's right in front of you. Well not what, but who. Amren. Azriel and Eris.

Flashes of what led to you being here go through your mind. The rumblings. The cracks in the ground. The isles being split into four. The last day. How the land swallowed you whole and you landed in the water. Nowhere to swim to.

You're back here. Again.

"Lovesick fools, Amren!" Majda yells.

Amren comes over to your side. She rushes over and makes you lay back down completely. You're not in control of your emotions or your body. You can feel yourself flailing around but you can't stop yourself.

Weakly, you whisper, "Amren?"

"I know, I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry." she says.

"I won't give you the whole dose but, you need to calm down." Majda says to you.

Then you feel the pinch in your arm. You look over to your left side. A needle in your arm. It brings back memories of Beron. Poking and prodding at you, trying to figure you out. You let out a wail.

"That dose was nothing. It went right through her."

Amren looks behind her, "One of you do something!"

You watch as both of them walk over to you.

Eris slower than Azriel, who joins you on your left side where Majda is. He kneels down and extends his hand to yours.

As if to ask you to take it.

You want to cry. And that is what you do. You feel the tears roll down your cheeks as you look at him. His eyes wet too. His lips form a sad smile when you take his hand softly.

The fear and the pain seeping through you seems to slow down a fraction. You feel like you can breathe again. You look over to your right side, where Eris and Amren are.

Eris makes a move to come closer to you but seems to think against it. You reach out your hand for him. He looks down at your hand, shock written all over his face, and then back up at you.

You nod your head at him.

He gives in fairly quickly. Eris takes your hand in his. You can feel the warmth from him and you let out a sigh. You settle into the bed below you a bit more.

"We thought you were gone. We felt it, the coldness." Eris says.

Your brows scrunch in the middle and you look over at Azriel. The last you checked, he couldn't feel anything like Eris could.

"I lied too. I'm sorry." Azriel speaks.

You shake your head, wanting so desperately to speak to them. To tell them how sorry you were. How you shouldn't have left without a goodbye. Or how you shouldn't have left them in such turmoil.

You take your hands and move them up both of their arms, willing them closer. Eris takes the hint first and sits on the edge of the bed. When your hands travels further, up his opposite shoulder he stills.

Azriel leans forward and places his head forward, into your side. Your hand snakes from his arm to the back of his head, your fingers in his hair.

It's then, and only then, that Eris tucks his head into your shoulder. And you finally feel like you're able to breathe normally. You reach up and rub the nape of his neck.

Sure the first time you got here had been some freak accident. But this time? This time had been fate pre-determined and unrelenting.