#I'm like the precise opposite of disappointed by it

[martianbugsbunny]

I'm so in love with Loki season 2 I expected to hate its guts and now I actually look forward to watching each new episode like what is that all about

[hemmingsleclerc]

Worth it┃sirius black

summary: where Sirius is completely in love with James's sister, but everytime he wants to ask her on a date somehow ends up doing something embarrassing

just sirius being a dumbass in love

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ･˳ . ⋆

Sirius Black, known for his confident attitude and big ego, became a totally different person when it came to Y/n Potter, James' twin sister. From the moment he first saw her on the Hogwarts Express, he fell in love with her. Her bright eyes, her laughter that echoed through the halls, and her loyalty to her friends captivated Sirius in a way he couldn't explain.

However, every attempt Sirius made to impress her seemed to end in humiliation. Whether it was tripping over his own feet, accidentally dropping a potion in Potions class while he was trying to show off, or simply forgetting his words when she stared at him or smiled, Sirius managed to humiliate himself over and over again and the marauders found endless fun in his failed attempts.

One particularly incident occurred during a Gryffindor Quidditch match. Sirius had been practicing tirelessly, determined to catch Y/n's eye with his skills as a Seeker and impress her (again). As he zoomed across the pitch during the game against Slytherin, he spotted Y/n cheering enthusiastically in the stands. Heart pounding with nerves, Sirius dove towards the Snitch, only to misjudge his speed and crash into a ring, sending the Snitch away to the opposite end of the field. The entire stadium bursted into laughter, including Y/n, who clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle her giggles.

"Nice one, Pad! Maybe next time you'll catch something other than the ground," James joked mercilessly after the match, laughing his head off, slapping Sirius on the back.

Sirius tried to laugh, but inside he felt enormous disappointment and shame. He had wanted with all his might to impress Y/n, to show her that he was more than just a prankster or a reckless troublemaker. But every time he tried, it seemed like he only managed to make a fool of himself.

Despite his repeated failures, Sirius refused to give up, she was worth it and he wasn't going to give up so easily. He found himself casting nervous glances at Y/n during meals in the Great Hall, trying to work up the courage to approach her. However, every time he decided to talk to her, his tongue would get stuck and his palms would sweat. Even simple greetings turned into awkward exchanges in which Sirius would end up stumbling over his words or making some ill-timed joke that fell flat.

One rainy afternoon, Sirius was sitting in his dorm with his friends. Peter and Remus were playing a game of wizard chess nearby while James lay on his bed playing with his snitch, occasionally casting sympathetic glances in Sirius' direction.

"You know, mate," Remus began tentatively, moving a knight on the board, "maybe you should just ask her out straightforwardly. None of this grand gesture stuff. Just be yourself."

Sirius sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I've tried, Moony. Every time I try to talk to her, I end up making a complete fool of myself. She probably thinks I'm an idiot by this point."

James chuckled "Nah, she doesn't think you're an idiot. Just a bit… charmingly clumsy as she told me."

Sirius rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help but smile at his friends' attempts to cheer him up. Deep down, he knew they were right. Maybe he had been going about it all wrong. Perhaps what Y/n needed was not grand gestures or witty banter, but simply honesty.

The next day, Sirius was walking through the black lake, letting his feet walk without any direction, however he realized that he was precisely addressing Y/n who was reading a book in front of the lake. His heart raced as he made his way over, his friends watching with anticipation from a distance.

"Here goes nothing," Sirius muttered under his breath, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves.

As he approached Y/n, she looked up and smiled warmly at him. Sirius felt his legs weak.

''Hey Y/n''

''Hey sirius, what's up?''

''everythings fine, um I wanted to ask you something''

Sirius felt his throat dry and his mind went blank.

''Are you okey sirius? you seem a bit...pale'' Y/n asked doubtfully, standing up and getting closer to Sirius.

''No! I'm good don't worry!'' Sirius was actually planning on pretending to faint, or running away.

''Okey?..Well anyways I also wanted to ask you something''

Sirius was about to open his mouth to let the words out but Y/n interrupted him.

''I was wondering if you'd like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?" Y/n said smiling ear to ear

Time seemed to stand still for Sirius. His eyes widened in shock, his mouth hanging open. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Did she just ask him out before he could ask her?

Taken by surprise, Sirius took a step back, his heart racing even more. To his surprise, he tripped on a tree root and fell to the ground with a thud.

Laughter erupted in the distance, echoing through the garden. James, Remus and Peter had been responsible for these as they were almost crying of laughter, unable to contain their amusement at Sirius's latest fall.

Sirius lay on the ground for a moment, his face burning with shame. He stood up as quickly as he could, trying to maintain some semblance of composure and dignity.

Y/n rushed over to him, concern mixing with her laughter. "Oh my god!, are you okay?"

Sirius nodded, his cheeks still flushed. "Y-yeah, I'm fine. Just… just caught me by surprise, that's all."

Y/n chuckled softly, offering him a hand up. "Sorry about that. I couldn't resist."

Despite the embarrassment, Sirius couldn't help but grin. "No need to apologize. I… I'd love to go to Hogsmeade with you."

Y/n smiled wildly, relief evident in her eyes. "Great! It's a date then."

Sirius felt a wave of relief and excitement. He had managed to get through another embarrassing moment, but this time he had turned out better than he could have imagined.

As they separated, the rest of the marauders approached him, still laughing at him. James patted him on the back, shaking his head in amusement and hugging him by the side and Sirius couldn't help but do a little victory dance.

Despite all his fumbles and embarrassing moments, he knew one thing for certain: Y/n Potter was worth every stumble and every awkward pause.

[murainhell]

You know? I really want to know more about Lilith, because I find her a very interesting character and I feel like the fandom is being a bit mean to her.

Most of what we know about her is what Charlie tells us in the little story, and as her daughter I'm going to assume that the story is embellished. But even if the details are not precise, there are some facts that make me think a lot about the timeline of events with Lilith and Lucifer.

I mean, it seems like Lucifer's heartbreak with humanity started pretty early on, and I guess that quickly led to depression (the spanish dub uses "he lost his will to LIVE"). It's something that has been there for most of his time in Hell.

In the meantime, Lilith thrived and is ‘to blame’ for Hell taking its shape and sinners gaining power. She inspired everyone to build and achieve new things.

That's two very opposite positions, and I honestly won't hold it against Lilith for being disappointed with Lucifer; she wanted to do the best she could with the limited opportunities they had, and her own partner was apathetic and wanted nothing to do with the other humans in their realm. Living with a depressed person, especially one who is telling you that your dreams or ideas aren't going to work, is complicated, and we don't know how long they stayed that way.

Isolating him is not the answer, especially when it deprives Lucifer of seeing his own daughter, but I can understand that Lilith thought she was doing the best for Charlie and they could resume the relationship later if he tried (when Lilith disappears it is Charlie who has to reach out to him).

From the way Charlie presents the events, the exterminations are a direct response to Lilith and her actions. A massacre that Lucifer accepts. At this point I imagine Charlie was born, as his main concern is to ensure that those born in Hell cannot be touched by angels. Charlie is safe.

The thing is. The hellborn are safe. You know who isn't? Lilith.

Were Lilith and Lucifer together by then? Maybe not and that's why he didn't care about her. Maybe yes and this resolution to the overpopulation problem (really, extermination of hypothetical armies) was the last straw.

Why is she in Heaven? What was her deal with Adam? Why do I keep thinking of Adam as the typical guy who sees his ex and tries to win her back or get some favours or some stupid shit like that instead of ignoring her?

Look, we don't have any information, but what if Lilith was cornered years ago and Adam took the opportunity to ‘kidnap’ her. What if Lilith is a prisoner? Because come on, Heaven sure is the place where your prison will be a beautiful beach. Why wouldn't she contact her own daughter, who is so proud of keeping her mother's dream alive?* Maybe they won't let her communicate with anyone. Until now, since Lute is demanding her to talk to Charlie to stop her plan.

* What dream, because it could be that Charlie heard her mother looking for a solution to the exterminations, although perhaps she misunderstood how Lilith wanted to handle it. The hotel seems to be Charlie's thing.

I don't know, I just see so many people think she's super evil, that she abandoned everyone, that she hates Lucifer and wants to destroy everything. And, I mean, maybe! Hope she'll have fun while doing it! But there's also that other option that she's surviving as best she can in a dificult position and we'll see what happens in S2.

[dreamerwithoutadirection]

Sparks Gone Wrong

The time when y/n falls in love with her neighbour- a hot single father 

Warnings: Yandere; Pregnancy Kink; Dub-con; Flashback

Be responsible- consume content according to your mental maturity! This does not represent how Taehyung is in real life.

Part I

It had been a good one month since you had stopped being overly excited at the mere sight of him. And Taehyung could feel his mission slipping away. It was simple- seduce you, get information, scare you away from the case and get out. But his plans went down the drain- the moment you spoke. So soft. And Taehyung felt a sudden rush of possessiveness, he hadn’t in a long time. It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen you before. You were his mission, so obviously he studied you well. But being so close, he felt his heart beating loudly after a long time. Unable to say anything, he settled on, 

“I will leave then, thank you for your time.”

Fuck. Could he have been more lamer than that? Shit. That marked the start of your’s and his relationship in his mind. You were his- the only thing left was to plan how to catch you. However, three months had passed with no visible headway, and by now, Jin seemed to be outpacing him in dismantling all the evidence. 

“Hellooooo…hyung? Are you even paying attention to us?” Jungkook asked frantically, waving his hands in the air to capture Taehyung’s attention. 

Taehyung looked up from the documents secured by Jin hyung, “Of course I am listening, Kook,” he chuckled, “I'm just multitasking, you know? Listening to you guys and working on my plan of action.”

Namjoon let out a scoff. His dragon eyes conveying his disappointment. 

"Your strategy? And what precisely does that entail? Being rude and dismissive to our target and achieving nothing because if yes, then congratulations you have been a charmer” 

“Who says I am not?!” Taehyung shot back heatedly. “I am trying my best to woo her. My strategy of wooing just differs from yours.” 

Namjoon scoffed again. 

“Alright, enough” Jin declared with finality. “If you're not up for this task, Taehyung, be honest. I'll assign it to either Yoongi or Jimin.”

Taehyung felt a surge of jealousy at the thought of you with someone else. The mere thought of you thinking about someone else was enough for him to burn the whole city. A dark gleam sparked in his eyes as a sinister determination overtook the gentle face, unveiling the depths he was willing to go for your sake.

In a blink, he lunged at Jin, squeezing his collar fiercely, “Don’t even think about it, hyung” he spoke slowly, each word dripping with determination and his craze, “She’s mine. You want the confidential papers. You’ll get it by this month.”

With that Taehyung left the quarters, leaving his teammates baffled at this sudden obsession of his with Y/N. They knew it wasn’t going to turn out good. It hadn’t in the past. 

“How dare you look at her?! Taehyung barked at the waiter taking their order for dinner. 

Sasha looked up from the menu to see her boyfriend seething at another poor soul once again. Frankly, she was tired of his antics. Sasha didn’t know when things had started turning ugly like this. 

As she reminisced about their first encounter, she couldn’t help but wonder if things would have turned differently if she hadn’t approached him for help. Sasha’s beloved companion, Barry, had gone missing—a cherished gift from her ailing mother. The day marked her first meeting with the gentle soul she thought Taehyung was. Soon, he was everywhere. His soft gaze and boxy smile reeled in her like the spider reels his prey in; deceptively. 

So, when did things really go wrong? Maybe it was when he first asked her to move in or when she kept ignoring a flash of annoyance that crossed his face at any conversations she had with the opposite gender. Or the strained smiles he gave when she gushed about anyone other than him. 

Sasha felt the familiar hand encircling her waist as another crept up her face. The familiar dread bubbling up. Taehyung crashed his lips on her heavily- biting her lips as if to punish her for the waiter’s advances. 

“Ah-”

“Shh” he whispered, “Do you know who you belong to, jagi?”

Sasha knew what she had to respond to calm him but the words never left her mouth. She kept looking at his raging eyes- begging silently to stop. But when did Taehyung stop?

Taehyung felt outraged at her no response. 

“You know what- I guess I need actions to make your dumb little self understand- who you belong to” 

With that Sasha felt taehyung lift her up to the table- his frenzy hands cupping her breasts- pinching her nipples through the shimmery dress he had bought for her. 

“Tae” Sasha tried to remove his hands- “please- not here” She looked at the waiter watching them. She felt a wave of embarrassment. 

Taehyung turned her head- “me..you should look just at me, jagi. These eyes were made for me. So keep looking here and stop whining” he grunted as his hand removed her panties- playing with her core.

“Do you find him attractive?” Taehyung asked continuing his ministrations- “Taehyung, please stop” Sasha moaned as she felt his finger enter her- back and forth “I- just list- aah”

“So wet..all for me” Taehyung whispered kissing her neck softly “I think it’s time for us to begin planning for family”

Taehyung turned to look at the waiter-  grinning before pushing Sasha on the table. Opening her legs- Taehyung pushed his dick inside her in one go. 

“Tae” Sasha mewled, “we need to tal-”

“I told you to shh jagi. I need to show him; you are mine” he replied as he kept thrusting into her with so much speed that Sasha felt herself feeling dizzy.

“So mine- and what better way than a baby? Your belly” He kissed her navel while rubbing her clit “full with the testament of our love, jagi. Just imagine how beautiful you’ll look when you're pregnant.” 

“I will make sure to put a baby in you tonight” He smiled softly imagining the flowery world of him, her and their child. 

Sasha on the other hand- sensed her dwindling freedom vanish even further.

Taglist: @loumin908; @​​devilzliaison; @princess-sunshyn; @deluluisme

[bruh-changbin]

pamplemousse

pairing: yang jeongin x afab reader

genre: smut + fluff (minors dni)

warnings: mentions of food (grapefruit lawl), oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), kissy, that's it

word count: 1.5k

a/n: SHORT I KNOW but i'm busy and lowkey wasn't feeling this while i was writing it but was also too stubborn to scrap it and also havent posted for skz in like eons so here also first jeongin fic yay enjoy and lmk thoughts

you’ve always been impartial to mornings.

they’re so boring. 

and desolate.

and……. ugh.

who would rather be up at the ass crack of dawn being productive instead of getting a couple of extra z’s in? your boyfriend would, much to your dismay.

being a vehement night owl has been an integral part of your persona since highschool, when papers and essays that in hindsight were not all that important kept you up late into the night. the ink splotched sky dotted with milky white stars a solace from the glaring blue light of your laptop that dried your eyes and gave you a headache.

in post-secondary you never strayed from your nocturnal ways, often times only crawling under your covers to get some rest when the sun had started making its way up the horizon. whenever asked your greatest weakness the first word that always comes to mind is procrastination.

still, there’s something so hauntingly beautiful about being awake and alone in the late hours of the night. you’re able to gaze upon the moon and the pale glow she casts upon your surroundings. you’re able to take in the sounds of the world when people are removed from the equation. you’re able to ponder, allow your thoughts to swim around in your brain without interruption. all of which is washed away when tinges of orange, yellow and pale blue begin to streak the sky in the morning. 

ergo, you were somewhat disappointed upon the discovery that your lover does not feel the same way; quite the opposite actually. 

to be completely fair jeongin’s schedule is to blame for his early rising, but it makes no difference to you. most mornings you wake to an empty bed, hands feeling around before your eyes are open to search for a warm, 5’10” body and instead being met with cold sheets. 

of course it’s not the worst thing in the world but still, it’d be nice to bathe in the warmth of the late morning sun while wrapped in jeongin’s buff arms - morning sex is also a plus, should the opportunity arise (which it almost never does due to you usually waking up alone). 

this morning you wake up to an empty bed, as per usual. the screen of your phone lights up when you tap it and tells you that it’s nearing 11:00; you spend a few minutes scrolling through your socials before forcing yourself to get up. 

you laze your way through your morning routine, making sure to wash your face and make your bed and throw on some clothing with more coverage before making your way downstairs. upon entering your kitchen you spot a plate that’s been placed on the middle of your counter with a spherical object of some sort on top of it - a grapefruit. half of a grapefruit, to be precise.

it looks refreshing, with the flesh a pretty pink, the veins white and spongy, the rind a pale yellow that’s waxy to the touch. crystalline specks of sugar are melted into the juice, the sweetness a contrast to the bitterness of the fruit.

you indulge yourself by digging in with a silver spoon, scooping out coral coloured chunks of fruit and placing them in your mouth, leaving a tart coating on your tongue and the back of your throat. syrup slips past the corners of your lips and you lick it away, not wishing for a drop of the fresh juice to go to waste.

despite there being no note or whatsoever you know this was jeongin’s doing; and you know that he had the other half before he left this morning so in a way the two of you still had breakfast together (not really). of the small things he does for you in your relationship this is easily your favourite - knowing that your brain is barely operating when you first get up and head downstairs so he makes it easy for you to nourish yourself before starting the rest of your day. 

looking after you is second nature for jeongin, who tends to act as if you’re a precious baby bird who fell out of its nest and needs help getting back on its feet. you don’t mind it of course, and he knows where the line between pampering and coddling lies and rarely crosses it (you’re not actually that reliant on him, and he knows that). being the youngest in stray kids means he’s constantly being taken care of, and he just likes to do the same for someone else - that someone else being you. 

he’ll massage your back when it hurts, run to the convenience store when you’re craving something specific, dry your tears when you cry over a sappy rom com that you forced him to watch with you.  

he lets you play with his hair and help him choose his outfits. he’ll wrap his arms around your waist and kiss his way down your neck when you’re doing the dishes. he’ll fuck you in the middle of the night when you wake him from his slumber, claiming that you’re too turned on to fall asleep and his body is the only thing that can satiate you. 

the devotion he has to you is constant, and you can feel it in the way he talks to you, takes care of you, touches you. through this you’ve learned his quirks and nuances, how to tell what he needs and when he needs it.

much like tonight, when, after coming home from a devitalizing day of practice, you can tell that all he wants is to feel your warmth and you his. the pads of his fingers are rough as they slip under the hem of your shirt and smooth against your sides and your back, his pouty lips coming in contact with your jaw before pressing against your own. with movements that have an undertone of urgency jeongin guides you towards your shared couch in your shared apartment, his arms bracing your frame as he all but pushes you up against the cushions. 

with his chest flush against yours you inhale his scent, dragging your fingers through his hair and whining when his teeth pinch your bottom lip. the grip he has on your restless hips is strong, and when he glides his tongue against yours and you swear you can taste the faintest hint of grapefruit juice in his mouth. 

the warmth you lose when jeongin pushes himself off of your body is only worsened when he pushes the fabric of your shirt up to expose your tummy, his curious fingers dipping into the waistband of both your pants and panties, both of which are stripped from you when jeongin drags the fabric down and off of your legs. 

you instinctively clamp your legs shut, yet you allow jeongin to pry them open with his firm grasp and position himself in between your limbs. his pupils swallow up the rest of his eyes as his gaze falls upon your bare cunt, tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he kisses and nips his way down the flesh of your inner thighs. 

your pussy is sticky and wet with sweet nectar that jeongin laps up and swallows down like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. his tongue pokes and prods at your flesh, your cunt clenching around nothing when he teases your clit by flicking it with the tip of his tongue. 

“baby~ don’t tease,” you huff in annoyance as jeongin refuses to focus on one place for more than a few seconds. his right hand moves from where it was perched on your hip to allow his index and middle fingers to toy with your now dripping hole, only slipping inside once you’ve whined and complained enough. 

he continues to suck on your clit as his fingers dip in and out of your pussy, causing your stomach to churn and your heart to flip in your chest as you writhe in pleasure. your breath hitches in your throat each and every time the silver rings at the base of jeongins fingers graze your hot wet cunt, his digits now surely coated in your arousal. 

his fingers keep thrusting and his tongue keeps teasing and soon enough you’re cumming all over him, moaning aloud into the open space of your living room as your orgasm slowly ebbs away.

the sight of jeongin making his way up your body after tongue and finger fucking you is one to behold, with his pout swollen and pink and coated in your juices and his hair a mess from the way you were tugging on it. his cheeks are flushed a subtle shade of rosy pink, much like the colour of the grapefruit you shared this morning. you pull his body against yours and kiss away the sweetness on his lips. 

[darklinaforever]

I've had ten people mention to me that "You have the books" whenever I talk about my disappointment with the Michael(a) change. And I find it so hypocritical because it would be so insensitive if someone adapted a sapphic love story and then decided to change the gender of one of the characters. The very same people crying about "you have the books" "bffr it is just a show it's not that serious" would be throwing hissy fits if the opposite was done. One girl got bullied and made fun of because she had stayed up all night to watch Bridgerton and ended up crying. She was disappointed with how Polin was handled and then was even more shocked with Michaela that she started crying. Like?? Please have some nuance. You can't act like it isn't "serious" but at the same time talk about how important LGBT (and other diversity reps) are important (they are!!). Because if it isn't that serious than it isn't that serious to care about a show not having LGBT characters as a lead? The logic isn't there.

I am angry about Michaela. Just like how I would be FUMING if any of my LGBT ships were altered or messed with. My OTP is literally Nico and Will from Percy Jackson series. If someone decided to make one of them into a girl, I would fucking riot.

It is very simple.

I would have the same reaction for any type of character.

If we change a woman into a man. Or if we change a queer couple into a heterosexual couple.

I would have the same type of reaction if we did this to any franchise with characters that are close to my heart and of whom I already have a precise image formed in my head.

The worst part is that I'm not completely outraged.

Part of me is happy to tell myself that we will have a central queer romance between women in future seasons. It's always cool to see representation when you're a queer person yourself.

But with Bridgerton I don't feel like it was the right place for this type of central romance.

Because there was already a story for Michael and Francesca. Which will surely be very different from the book in the show. While once again, it's literally the best of the lot and for which I hope for a fairly high level of loyalty. But Netflix also decided to go into fanfiction mode for WHWW.

And yes it disappoints me a little. And I'm not ashamed of it.

Who cares if I'm ironically called queerphobic for that / or for hating queer people. Or that tumblr is apparently a gay website, under the pretext that many members of the queer community are there, and therefore it is not the place to make this kind of comment.

I remind that I'm bi and that I love tons of queer romances and that I actively hate queerbaiting. I'm still not over Supercorp to this day by the way...

The fact is that the situation is very simple but many people deliberately do not understand our discontent. We have loved a male character established within a specific story for years and we do not appreciate that all of a sudden, we are deprived of the expensive and bone vision of a Michael Stirling that we have already waited a long time.

Besides, for the most part we would hope that they would not screw up the trio Fran, John and Michael, as they were able to do with Anthony Kate and Edwina (seriously, the madness with Edwina went too far in season 2). Well it looks like it's also on the verge of being destroyed. Fran didn't seem to enjoy her first kiss with John, but she seemed to have an instant crush when Michaela appeared, while Michaela didn't seem to have any particular reaction. And that already goes against all the foundations laid between these three characters... and that annoys me even more.

[woncon]

Flufftober Day 14

"I hate it" - "No, you don't"

🎃 jaemin x gn!reader

🎃 thanks to @wonsheep for helping me fix my grammar mistakes and for giving me advice how to convert a whole story into another language precisely ❣

🎃 flufftober masterlist | main masterlist

✁- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

When you first noticed that Jaemin was reacting differently, Renjun was praying to the gods to load Google Maps and presenting his phone to the sky as an offering. You got lost downtown, however, there was a pastry shop next to you, and Jaemin's eyes glinted with interest.

He didn't let go of your hand, but instead pulled you along with him towards the terrace which was covered with yellow and white striped awnings and silver round tables awaiting those looking for a cake. But Jaemin was too eager for sweets, practically dragging you along behind him, and you were afraid of tripping over the uneven cobblestones.

"Nana!"

As if you had used some kind of spell, Jaemin immediately stopped and looked back at you. His face reflected uncertainty and surprise.

"Slower, please."

"I'm sorry." He was walking with you now, but avoided your gaze. You wondered if he'd become so introverted out of guilt. You reassured him that nothing was wrong, kissed his cheek and he was smiling and excited again. But the tip of his ear remained red.

When you understood what was happening, you were playing bowling. Jaemin bowled a very nice one and your team took the lead. Jaemin turned to you with a proud grin.

"Well done, Nana!" Jeno patted his friend's shoulder in satisfaction.

"You did well, Nana!" You put your arms around him and felt his whole body tighten. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, which was incredibly hot. Jaemin tried not to look you in the eye.

And since then, you've taken every opportunity to call him names. You don't call him baby anymore, just Nana.

"What's up, Nana?"

Jaemin is in a ball on his bed. The computer is on, the game home screen is open. You actually know what happened, he lost to Jisung, but you still wanted to ask him to get to pronounce the name that tasted as good as a sip of cool, pleasant tea.

"I hate it." Of course, he is grumpy.

"What?" You lay opposite him.

"When you call me that."

"No, you don't."

"Don't call me that."

"Everyone call you that. Donghyuck, for example, constantly. Why can't I do it?"

"Because they are my friends and you are my significant other."

"So this nickname is your friends' privilege?" You raise your eyebrows suspiciously, your body stiffening a little.

"No." Jaemin takes your wrist reassuringly, pulling it to his cheek, pressing a kiss to it. "I don't know." He sighs. "When you say it, it's different. You make me weak."

"Don't you like being weak?"

"Not really. Look at me. Jisung defeated me in Mortal Combat and I'm this morose. But, when you call me Nana, it's different. It doesn't make me sad or disappointed or angry, it makes me weird. Like I'm melting, you know?"

"So I make you soft when I call you that?"

"Hmm."

"Nana."

Jaemin palms into your face, and your satisfied smile fades, a surprised 'ow' sound coming from your mouth. You then remove his spidery hand from your head and place it on your face.

"Did Jisung beat you badly?"

"Yeah."

"You can cuddle with me if it helps."

Jaemin seizes the opportunity, slides right up to you, laying his head under your chin, and snuggles against you happily.

"You can call me Nana when it's only the two of us."

"Okay. Nana."

You stroke his hair, your thumb playfully touching his ear, and you feel how it burns under your touch.

flufftober taglist (send an ask! <3)

@jaeheekangslover

[blueberrypancakesworld]

A obsessed Elijah Kamski

°His obsession would go further than just stalking. To be more precise, he doesn't even see it as such. He's practically the creator of a new species, a race. The androids. So it's only fair to take what's rightfully his, isn't it?

°Ever since he saw her at a press conference, the young reporter sitting across from him and asking him predetermined questions, he knew he wanted her. The people he had previously disliked, imperfect, not pretty and powerful enough all seemed to be gone in one fell stroke. She was different. She seemed to have been created by him. She seemed to be completely perfect. Ever since that meeting, he had known this in his inner self, where he had already cast off all his moral preconceptions.

°He himself was more God than anything else. ,,I'm glad to see you again," he had said to her as he saw her give him a shy smile. Courtesy with a mix of charm. He knew she had feelings for him, he just knew it. And when he went home, ignoring Chloe for the first time, almost considering her less than perfect, he knew he needed a replacement.

°His Chloe, who had previously been the image of everything he needed, was now nothing more than an android. She wasn't the model he wanted. ,,Get me any information about this woman and tell her I want to invite her for a private interview," he had told the machine, pointing to the name of the newspaper that had written the article.

°What was once a request had now become an order, his order. An order that brought him to his desk and the new project began. The new design of his latest creation, for what god could simply take someone immediately. A human had to be conquered. ,,Feelings and consciousness," he murmured, looking at the exoskeleton of the machine, knowing it wasn't flesh and blood. Knew that it was not her and yet he would have her. If not willingly then he would lie to himself until he believed it was really her.

°And he knew he had her when she stood in front of his door. The white blouse underneath her bra was a mix of professional and yet provocative for him. Her lips were a light shade of pink and her perfume was sweet. ,,Perfection I see...I'm glad you could come," he said, ushering her in, closing the door behind her and knowing she was his when the lock clicked.

°His hand settled on her shoulder, squeezing her gently as he led her into the living room. ,,A glass of wine?" he asked, seeing her hesitant nod and knowing that inside she was standing between her job and him. But when he sat down opposite her, his eyes on her with pleasure as she sipped her wine and her eyes met his, watching her reaction, it was more knowledge he had than in years of research.

°She began to ask him questions, he answered them just waiting to strike. She snatched the words from him and began to question him about the cameras she had never seen. She didn't realize how his wine glass always stayed the same, she drank more out of nervousness of her humanity. To get rid of this feeling and play into his hands. ,,Excuse me... Mr. Kamski, may I just-" she began, holding a hand over her mouth.

°,,Sedatives and emotions don't mix well, do they?" he asked, reaching for his screen and typing in her reaction, watching as she rose from her chair, struggling to keep her balance. But her attempt was miserably thwarted when her legs lost feeling. She fell to the ground with a surprised sound. He walked to her, she watched his new model, his perfection. ,,Tell me, what do you feel, dear?" he asked, kneeling in front of her, his cool hand on her jaw. Forced her to look at him. Saw her fear, her confusion. What would her other emotions look like then?

°With a disappointed sigh, she lost consciousness and lay on the floor before Chloe picked her up and carried her after him towards her new room. A room to study and watch to live in and make perfect. ,,All you have to do is learn," he murmured and pushed up his glasses, which were slightly out of place. He put his hand on her cheek, paused for a moment and looked at the machine in the corner. All he needed was the outside and he would have her for eternity. ,,And then you'll be mine...forever," he said, giving her a gentle kiss before pulling away from her for now. He closed the door behind him and just waited for his darling to wake up. There was still a lot to do to make her complete.

°To make her feelings perfect, her outside, her inside and her whole being his. Right down to her soul, she would be his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Info : This was more of a short thing I had in mind but here you go I wanted the god complex part in hir character to shine ;)

Maybe you like it ? -> @thatsthewrongwallcraig

[aebi12]

"Resentment" - Chapter 25 [AemondxRhaena]

Summary

He is the cause of her sufferings. He took her dragon, her betrothed, and her father. Now, he will also take away her future by having to marry him.

With so much history and bad blood between Rhaena and Aemond, their forced union has everything to fail, except that the proximity will make them discover that perhaps they have more in common than it seems.

AU - the Greens win the war.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18 - Chapter 19 - Chapter 20 - Chapter 21 - Chapter 22 - Chapter 23 - Chapter 24

Masterlist of my other works.

Read on AO3

Tags: enemies to lovers, slow burn, romance, angst, drama, eventual smut, hurt/comfort

Please remember that english is not my first language, so I'm sorry for the mistakes...

Disclaimer: these are not my characters, they belong to George R.R. Martin, HBO, etc. Only the plot of this fanfiction belongs to me.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

King's Landing is not exactly a beautiful city.

Although, during his childhood away from the capital, Daeron had often romanticized it mainly due to the nostalgia he felt towards his mother and siblings, he had encountered a disappointing reality upon returning to the city after the war.

King's Landing was dirty, messy and smelly.

The complete opposite of Oldtown.

Oldtown and its eternal charm, its mix of tradition and modernity. It had been a good place to grow up. A place that, since a few days ago when his older brothers had told him that he should formalize his betrothal as soon as possible, he has been thinking about more and more frequently.

Although, if he is honest, it is not exactly his maternal family's ancestral city that he misses, but rather his uncle. Ser Gwayne had been a father to him since his arrival at the Hightower. He had taught him to fight, to hunt, to write... and it was precisely his advice that he wants now more than ever.

As if you didn't know what he was going to tell you.

His uncle, an honorable knight, would surely tell him that a betrothal with Lady Westerling is an excellent choice for a third son like him. That, in addition to being beautiful, the young woman is kind, educated and of noble birth. That her dowry will be more than enough to increase his personal reserves, which would never be as large as those of his older brothers. That, by joining one of the oldest houses in the West, he will have more influence in the kingdom. Not that he needs it, he doesn't mind not exercising political power, he is more than happy taking care of practical matters than dealing with tedious issues like Aemond.

Daeron is aware that marrying Marianne Westerling is the best option. Still…

His gaze shifts to the young woman who silently walks beside him through the gardens.

“I am sorry, Lady Marianne, I probably should have suggested we talk in one of the drawing rooms,” he says after watching her shiver for the third time.

“It is fine, my prince, I do not mind the cold,” he assures her, though her red nose and cracked voice say otherwise.

Daeron simply nods, and they resume their walk in silence. It is not an awkward silence, and though he knows what he’s expected to say, he can’t do it. At least not yet.

“I did not get a chance to tell you,” Marianne’s voice cuts through his thoughts, “But I did enjoy watching you compete in the tournament, my prince”

“Thank you,” he replies with a smirk, “I would have preferred to win, though.”

“You were the winner in my heart.”

Marianne seems to register her words a second later, because her cheeks flush and she looks down, clearly embarrassed.

Daeron finds the gesture adorable.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” he replies.

It takes Marianne a few long seconds to face him again, and when she does, the prince is once again struck by how pretty she is.

And by how little effect that beauty has on him.

You are a fool, he thinks as his mind conjures up the face of someone else. Someone he can never have.

“There is a matter I would like to discuss with you,” he finally dares to say, “It is my wish that we can unite our houses through a betrothal. The Crown agrees with my idea and the king, my brother, has agreed to our marriage. However, I would like to know what you think about the matter.”

His words sound formal. Too formal and rehearsed. And yet, the smile that appears on the young woman’s face is so wide that it increases the feeling of ingratitude he feels.

“I would like nothing more than to be your wife, my prince.”

Daeron struggles to offer her a smile, “It is decided then. The council will arrange the details with your lord father, so we can proceed.”

“I am honored, my prince,” she replies, bowing.

 “My brother will surely announce the betrothal soon, but I ask for discretion for now. It's wiser this way.”

“Of course,” Marianne nods immediately.

“And we should probably wait until winter is over before we get married,” he says more to himself, “Yes, I think waiting a while would be wise.”

Time. It's just what he needs. Time to get used to his future.

And time to banish ideas – and feelings – that are better left uninhabited.

***

His sheets no longer smell like her.

The scent of roses that always surrounds Rhaena has almost completely disappeared from his room, and as Aemond shifts in bed trying to find a comfortable position to rest, he can't help but grab the pillow at his side and inhale deeply, wanting to find a trace of his wife in it.

But he finds no comfort in the action.

Like the previous nights, he can't sleep either. His room is now a place that torments him. All he can think about every time he enters it is Rhaena's body lying between his sheets, her platinum hair spread across his pillows, the softness of her skin, her kisses...

Aemond growls, exasperated with himself because, no matter how hard he tries, he can't get her out of his mind.

Although he finds refuge in his daily work, forcing himself to focus on the affairs of the kingdom, on accounts, reports and inspections, the nights are torture. Every time he returns to the Tower he walks silently so as not to hear her, so as not to succumb to his desire to require her presence, to see her or to hold her in his arms. Only that his private rooms are living proof of what he tries to deprive himself of. And, although he knows that he could very well request new accommodations, that masochistic part of him does not wish to do so. No, that little part delights in sleeping in the bed he shared with her, where he felt her warmth…

The prince curses once more as his mind conjures the sensation of sinking inside of her, of her moans and the way Rhaena says his name when she explodes with pleasure. His body betrays him too, and he feels his cock getting excited, growing between his legs and screaming for his attention.

“Seven hells!”

Would it be so bad to summon her? To share her bed again? At some point he would have to, because after all, their union must produce an heir. So why not just give in to his desire? Why keep keeping her away? Wasn’t it easier to just…?

No.

He had done it once before. He had given in to his passions and it had brought him close to death. He had allowed someone else to control him and have influence over him. And he wasn’t going to do it again. He couldn’t show himself weak again. He had agreed to this marriage only to fulfill his duty to the realm, to please his mother and help in the survival of his house. Nothing more was required of him.

Aemond moves between the sheets again, but when the pressure on his cock becomes unbearable, he can’t help but slide his hand and stroke the length of it, moving up and down and imagining it’s Rhaena’s hand stroking him. Or her mouth. How would it feel to have her lips and tongue wrapped around his cock? The mere thought makes him explode, spilling his seed all over his stomach.

Defeated, though somewhat relieved, he cleans himself up and manages to sleep for a few hours. As the sun breaks dawn, he slips out from between the sheets and walks to the training yard, where he grabs a sword and begins to stab the straw man.

“Bad night?”

The question comes from Ser Criston, who joins him, also taking up a sword.

“I didn’t get much sleep.”

“Once again?” the knight faces him, tacitly challenging him to a duel, “What is troubling you, my prince?”

He does not answer immediately. Though he trusts Cole, he doesn’t dare discuss his situation with him. Or anyone, really.

“I think we should send Daeron and Tessarion to the Stormlands.”

“Is this because of the thefts to the nobles?”

“It is happening more and more often.”

“Your brother wouldn’t be much help, not on the back of his dragon,” Ser Criston replies, “The thieves probably set up camp deep in the woods, from the sky Daeron would not be able to see them. You know that as well as I do.”

“Mmm,” Aemond lunges at the knight, who deflects his attack with ease.

“Send me if you are so worried about the situation.”

“No, I need you here.”

The prince repeats his action and lets out a frustrated grunt when he fails to even touch his master.

“You are distracted,” Cole comments as they put down their swords and catch their breath, “What is it really bothering you?” When he gets no response, he insists, “The realm is at peace, the council follows your instructions and there is no sign of disloyalty on their part.”

Aemond takes his sword again and Cole his morning star, wielding it skillfully and making the young man concentrate to the maximum so as not to be hit by the weapon.

“Is it Lady Rhaena?” When the prince glares at him, a sideways smile appears on Cole’s face. “I imagine that living together is not proving to be an easy task.”

“Why do you assume that?”

“You have always been an independent young man,” Ser Criston dodges again, “Accustomed to your ways and routines. And now you have a wife to include in all of this. It must be… complicated.”

“I barely see her.”

“Why is that?”

Aemond shrugs, “I have no need to,” he lies, “She is just…”

“Your wife,” the knight cuts him off, “Who in the eyes of the gods you covered with your cloak and swore to protect.”

“She does not need my protection, she is safe here in the Keep.”

“That is not what I mean,” Ser Criston replies, shaking his head, “Lady Rhaena requires your attention and dedication as well.”

Aemond lets out a cynical chuckle, though internally, he feels a tug of guilt and bitterness at the knight’s words, “She receives enough attention from the Court. I do not think she desires mine.”

His words must convey something of what he feels, because Ser Criston stops his attacks and watches him with those shrewd eyes that detected his lies as a child, and made him confess his escapes from the castle to try to sneak into the Dragon Pit, “You can be gentle with her. There would be nothing wrong with getting along with your wife. I know you didn’t wish to marry her, but that doesn’t stop your feelings towards that union from changing over time.”

“We married to produce a royal heir,” Aemond retorts, “For the future of the dynasty. You told me that, remember?”

“I remember,” he nods and lets out a heavy sigh, “I just think there is nothing wrong with you feeling affection for your wife, my prince”

Aemond grimaces and looks away for a moment.

“It has nothing to do with that,” he finally murmurs, and when he faces Criston, it is with a harsh and cold look in his eye, “Let’s keep training.”

And although his words echo in his mind, he focuses only on the comforting sound of steel against steel, trying to forget his doubts and everything else.

***

“We are honored by your visit, Princess Rhaena.”

The orphanage is considerably larger than the one she visited last time. And it is filled with small children running around in torn shoes and scantily clad despite the cold. Seeing their little red noses and almost purple lips, Rhaena is suddenly embarrassed by the fur coat she is wearing.

The septa, an elderly woman, offers her a rickety chair by the fire.

“Thank you,” she replies with a smile, “I hope the provisions I brought are enough to ease your burden.”

“Praise the Mother,” the woman replies, “Our burden is great, as you can see, my lady. But we try to house all the children who are in need.”

Rhaena looks back at the many children of varying ages who are excitedly running around the carts filled with vegetables and wheat she has brought. This orphanage, one of the ones on the queen dowager’s list, is her first stop in Flea Bottom.

“The Crown appreciates your service, septa,” Rhaena clears her throat, “What else do they need?”

“There is never enough food, my lady, but we also require clothing and blankets. Last winter took more than half of the children in our care.”

Her heart sinks at the woman’s words, “I am very sorry to hear that.”

“It was a shame, really, but the Gods are probably taking better care of them than we could,” the woman sighs, “There are few who will grow up to be good men and women.”

Rhaena looks back at the children, and a lump form in her heart, “How long will they be under your care if they cannot find families to take them in?”

“A few years, until they can take care of themselves. We try to teach them practical things, but it’s hard to make a living in this city.”

The sound of a crying baby cuts off the conversation, and a young septa enters with a small child in her arms.

“One more?”

“I’m afraid so,” the young woman sighs and, seeing Rhaena, bows before leaving the small room.

“The arrival of winter makes the women simply abandon them.”

“Isn’t there some way to find their mothers? To help them so they can raise their children?”

“Babies are not welcome where they come from,” the septa explains, “Most of these children are the children of prostitutes on the Street of Silk. There is no place for these creatures in these establishments. And those that are kept are for a much worse fate.”

Rhaena pales and the septa apologizes for bringing up an inappropriate subject for her.

For the rest of the visit, as she oversees that the orphanage receives all that she has brought to offer, Rhaena wanders through the gloomy, cold rooms, promising to return with more help.

“I will return soon,” she assures the septa, “And I will bring more useful things.”

The children cling to her skirts, bidding her farewell, and Rhaena tries to contain her sudden urge to cry as she leaves the place.

“Shall we return to the palace, princess?” the royal guard asks.

“Not yet,” she sighs, “I want to walk around the city a bit.”

The man follows her silently and the girl tries to ease her heart as she thinks about the harsh reality she has just witnessed. She knew the city had many shortages, but she was not prepared to see them so directly. King's Landing had looked lovely on the occasions she had visited, although that was probably because they had embellished part of the city for the wedding. Now that she had ventured deeper into the heart of the town, she could see the reality.

“This place is not appropriate for you, my lady,” the guard warns her

“Why not?”

“Well it is… it is the Street of Silk, my lady.”

“Oh,” Rhaena stops abruptly and looks curiously at the establishments that, in the light of day, seem quite ordinary.

The famous Street of Silk. Women wearing the most revealing dresses she has ever seen emerge from one of the houses, laughing and holding glasses while hugging a clearly drunk man. The man touches them shamelessly and they do not protest, rather they respond to his caresses while they continue laughing and then enter another of the houses.

“We should go back to the palace, princess”

Rhaena nods and they return to the carriage. During the ride, her mind can't help but return to the scene on Silk Street. And the many establishments she had seen. Were they all brothels? Were they all packed at night, offering forbidden pleasures to men? Had Aemond frequented any of these places? Did he still frequent them even now?

Doubt grows inside her like poison ivy. The prince had assured her that distractions were things of the past, but was he keeping his word? Or was that why he no longer called her to his chambers? Perhaps he preferred the more experienced touch of his lover. Rhaena feels her heart race as she considers the possibility that she had been a disappointment to Aemond in the marriage bed. Was that why he avoided her? Had the novelty of possessing her been so dull after a couple of times that he needed something more? Had she failed?

“We are already at the Fortress, Madam”

Rhaena gets out of the carriage and advances through the castle without even looking where she is going.

“There you are!” Marianne’s arms suddenly encircle her and her friend’s squeal of excitement stops the thoughts that are gnawing at her insides. “I was looking for you,” her lady continues, “Oh Rhaena! The prince Daeron asked me to be his wife.”

“What?” she gasps, surprised, “How… how did it happen?”

Rhaena tries to act surprised even though she expected it to happen because, after all, Aemond had assured her that she didn’t have to worry about it anymore.

Just as he assured you that there would be no one else but you, she thinks.

And, if he had kept his promise to Daeron and Marianne, why wouldn’t he also keep his promise to never visit his former lover again?

Yes, her doubts were unfounded. They had to be, she thinks as she watches her friend’s smile, pleased by the betrothal, and making plans about the wedding, the dress and the decoration of the sept. “Prince Aemond will announce our betrothal soon,” Marianne beams, “But you mustn’t tell anyone until then.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Rhaena beams back, “I am so happy for you. And that we can still be together.”

“It is amazing, is it not?” Her lady’s honey-colored eyes fill with unshed tears, “And we will be family! Our children will be cousins ​​and grow up together.”

Rhaena giggles and tries to push her doubts aside, letting herself be carried away by the idyllic picture her lady paints for her.

@user05152535456 @pugetprincess @draftswriting @hopefulnovelwritingland @maymunahar @niocel @goldenjoyboyy @gracelessbeach @jenmakeusin10 @dagma18 @atargcvnt @iidontgiveafuckuniverse @ammo23 @qyburnsghost @ithoughtulikedme @avidreader73 @feyresqueen @zeroinetoheroine @dragontwinsfireandblood

Let me know if you want to be tagged

[bunnakit]

*walks i to you ask box like a burger place* Can I get a eeeeeeh chen yi trying to bake a cake for ai di and almost burning down/destroying zong yis kitchen.

With some extra fluff please

Zong yi: I just went to the back to get something...how did you-

Chen yi: I panicked, there was a bee

YOU GOT IT BABES i owe you for all the pain i inflict in the GC (tho im fucking terrible at writing fluff, it's the opposite of my skillset)

🌸

Chen Yi was rapidly coming to the conclusion that he was not good at this. He was a decent cook but baking felt like a different beast entirely and he was wildly out of his depth. Everything was so precise, down to a science he was wholly unfamiliar with.

Zongyi was patient with him in a way Chen Yi wasn't sure he deserved. It was taking him some time to come to terms with the fact that Zongyi didn't blame him, hadn't blamed him for a moment, even though he'd blamed himself. Zongyi just smiled, quietly instructed, and observed. Not for the first time, Chen Yi found himself grateful he and Ai Di had had each other while in prison.

Which brought him to another issue. He needed to get this done quickly. Keeping Ai Di away from the bakery had been a challenge in and of itself - but keeping a secret of where he was going from Ai Di? That had been nearly impossible. Zerui and Xiao Jie could only keep Ai Di occupied for so long, so he was operating on a timer.

A burning smell snapped Chen Yi back to the present and he hissed a curse under his breath. Somehow, he'd forgotten to set the literal timer for the cake and let his thoughts wander for too long. He hastily rushed to the door and pulled the tin out with a towel, groaning at the blackened edges and cracking top.

Fuck.

He kicked the oven door closed with just a bit too much force and instantly froze at the tiny shattering sound he heard as a result.

Shit.

Chen Yi pulled in a slow, deep breath, resisting every urge to pull his hair or slam his fist down on the counter. This couldn't go any fucking worse and he now had an entirely new respect for Zongyi and his business. Why couldn't he just propose to Ai Di with a fucking knife or something? But no, Ai Di had gone on for weeks about how cute Zongyi's proposal had been and Chen Yi refused to disappoint him, not ever again.

"What happened?" Zongyi spoke suddenly from the door and Chen Yi would've been embarrassed at the way his shoulders jumped and he whirled around, if not for the gnawing anxiety in his stomach.

"Ah.. I didn't.." He wasn't used to admitting incompetency and it left an acrid taste at the back of his palate - or maybe that was just the cloying scent of burnt spice cake.

"You didn't set the timer?" Bai Zongyi grinned, sparing just the barest glance at the broken oven door as if it didn't bother him at all. "I did that the first time I tried baking too. Come on, we still have some time left to try and make another one. You're lucky I have two ovens."

Chen Yi groaned and leaned down, pressing his forehead to the counter.

"What if I screw that one up too?"

"You won't, I'm not leaving you alone again, the place might end up on fire." Zongyi teased and Chen Yi couldn't help but press his smile into the granite countertop.

Their lives really were all the better for having Zongyi in it.

[mundrakan]

Problem

Dear Mutuals. I have this one scene (under the cut). Can anyone tell me what to do with it? I am clueless, helpless, hopeless. It's... well, at least I hope it's good, but... I can't explain where to get there and how to get out again...

Also: kind of a little gift for @metalomagnetic

When Sirius walked through the door, Tom could tell he was in pain, even though the boy didn't show much, compared to most people. But Tom, like him, was used to hiding it that he saw all the small signs, the shoulders too drawn back to be comfortable, the overly precise movements and the way he looked straight ahead as if meeting someone's eyes would make him break.

Tom frowned. Jealous rage was not exactly the reaction someone should have, when another person came for their help after being cursed, much less if it was a student one was supposed to protect, but given the fact that this was Sirius Black and therefore literally the only reason the current 7th-years were even worth teaching them, Tom felt justified. “Who did this?” he asked, even before Sirius could explain why he was here.

With only the smallest sigh of relief Sirius sat down in the chair opposite his desk and shrugged, ignoring the fact that he had not been invited in the first place. “How would I know? The bastard hexed me in the back. Had Slytherin robes, though.” Despite the pain he looked cheeky, with hard, challenging eyes. “For all I know you could have orchestrated it. Hell, could have been it.”

He was not wrong, Tom had a thin enough built that he could still pass as student, if he tried, and he was not above making someone hex Sirius if only it brought him here. Which only made it more annoying that he hadn't. That someone else dared touch something he defined his, if not openly. “Why did you come then?”

“Are you kidding?” Sirius sat up straight-backed like the good pure-blood child he was. “I'm not exactly friends with the other Heads of House either, and they will come looking, when I hex the Slytherins back, once they know I have an open tab with them.”

“And I won't?” Tom chuckled, the amusement slowly replacing the rage.

“Nah.” Sirius waved it off. “You'd pretend, if someone caught wind, but that's it.” His eyes scoured the room, taking in all the little details with great care, as he was very clearly gathering ammunition.

Tom didn't begrudge it. Most Gryffindors were... stupidly good. Sirius had never even touched that terrain. He always stood with one leg firmly in Slytherin territory, keeping an eye on his enemies and even watching his friends. He knew better than not to. “So, are you going to help me or not?”

Tom left his seat, strode around the desk slowly and then turned the chair, so he could face Sirius directly. “Oh, I am.”

“At what price?” Now his face was under the same scrutiny as his room had been.

“I am a teacher, I am supposed to...”

“You are a Slytherin, and you will ask for a price.” Sirius knew him too well for comfort, and with anyone else he would have taken... measures. But he liked it, how the boy slowly spiralled along the edge of his attraction, being pulled in bit by bit by bit. It would have been a pity to destroy that.

“How about a kiss?”

Tom took solace in the fact that Sirius was close to his coming of age. This kind of dubious look just didn't belong to a child. “I haven't kissed, and I won't kiss you.”

“So...” Tom pushed down the new waves of jealousy threatening to overwhelm common sense. “How'll get the honour? What disappointing wench or irrelevant guy will have your first kiss then?” Instead of him, who deserved it, who would value it accordingly.

Sirius lips ticked into a smile, but it dissolved into a grimace right away, as he was reminded of his pains. “None of your business. So... are we done?”

“What about this?” Tom wasn't so fast to give up. “For once you come visit me when you don't need my help.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow? Office hours?”

Sirius hissed, but caught himself again fast. “Not scared that your dear Slytherins will figure out your little scheme of wooing a Gryffindor?” It was scary how much he understood with how little context.

“No. If things go my way – and they will – they'll congratulate me on my cunning.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “If you say so. But okay. Tomorrow.”

Tom leaned in, whispering into his ear, so his breath hit the lobe. “I take your word for it.” Then he waved his wand and removed all curses and hexes present on Sirius with just one wave of his wand. “There you go.”

Sirius didn't bother to thank him, when instead he could pay up. He turned the chair just enough so he could get past Tom's arms, as he stood up. “I see you tomorrow then.”

What should have been an icy shower, made Tom almost giddy with anticipation.

[illolarei]

I still want to believe that I'm not alone (or One evening over a cup of tea)

– Tell me about yourself. What do you like?

The Doctor is confused by this question and puts his cooling cup of tea aside: it is clear that he is not being interrogated, but this man opposite has already made it clear that he is far from science – so far from it. Tell about his theories? About previous projects? Whatever he does, these are not the best topics for conversation because of... "Excesses". Besides, the scientist remembered very well those few times when he tried not only to listen, but to share, and heard only: "Please stop spewing this unnecessary information, Dottore, I am not interested. Time is money." It is not surprising that this was the answer given to him by the only colleague who had previously disturbed his peace, because even in the Academy there was only a pitiful handful of people who understood his incoherent speeches and endless tirades of chatter. And the Doctor grew quieter, concluding that he was probably simply not naturally suited to expressing his thoughts to others and having them respond in the slightest.

- I'm afraid, Master Crepus... This is relatively unusual for me.

- Unusual to talk about yourself or to talk to someone?

Seeing someone else's good-natured grin, the harbinger makes another long pause and his interlocutor gives him this time, because he sees from the side how he is thinking hard, his eyes running across the table, and notices that he does not like to maintain eye contact: who knows, maybe under the mask this task would be easier for him than now in a more vulnerable state, when the face, although not accustomed to expressing violent emotions in public, reflects shadows of doubt, indecision and a grin with self-irony.

- Probably... Both, huh.

The winemaker slightly squints with a smile and then easily snaps his fingers:

- Good. Then, how about you ask me something by yourself? And then you can say what you think about my thoughts.

- Your plan is slightly... Unstable, - Dottore slightly frowns and glances away from him, not immediately finding a more delicate equivalent of the word "lousy", so as not to act rashly, - You may not like what you hear.

- But that's normal, right?

The Doctor, with a distrustful and slightly displeased look, glances at the man himself: does he even understand the possible consequences of disagreement and indignation? Either he lives in a world where no one dares to argue or swear with Ragnvindr in discussions, or he is simply naive to the point of impossibility. Both options are possible, which means that only Dottore will be able to bear responsibility for the further dialogue - and will be forced to interrupt it in time, if necessary, since he is the only one who understands the risks. Or more precisely, who always predicts the tragic outcome of communication: the choice of words in a conversation is a battlefield where you are always under fire. In this case, he can either evade into something easier and less problematic, but how long can something like this continue? Or, the Doctor can strike out and bring forward a topic that will immediately make it clear: is this game worth the candle or will he not hear anything new. Deep down, he sincerely does not want to be disappointed in a person who turned out to be so polite to him without any nauseating ingratiating flattery and at the same time so relaxed in his behavior. But if he is not disappointed in him now - later this feeling will only acquire even greater bitterness.

- What is "Morality" for you.

The man's face shows a very surprised, even slightly naively absurd grimace, as if he had heard "Why is the sky blue" from Diluc and Kaya again, but the extremely serious look of the interlocutor makes him treat the question without embarrassment or a smirk.

- I think... It's some kind of internal landmark, I don't know. A compass? And it shows a person in which direction to move.

- Hm? - The doctor squints slightly, raising one eyebrow in thought, as if trying out an unexpected position in his thoughts, - Usually I only hear that this is a measure of dividing the world into black and white.

- What about "gray morality"?

- No one remembers it. As a rule, most people believe that "they" are good, and "others" are bad. And the maximum deviation from this axiom... Only when the "bad" supposedly want justice, - he again recalls the hours when he was only a diligent listener, - More precisely: to become "good", and to make the "good" "bad", as they should be. A standard change of places of terms... And quite absurd.

- It still seems to me, - the man smiles weakly, having understood the main essence of someone else's words and also realizing that the cunning interlocutor has so far voiced only something extraneous from the side of the observer, but not his point of view, - Each person has his own morality: his own system of values. There are many of them and that's the beauty of it. It's even scary to imagine if I'm the only one who thinks so...

The Second's facial expression is confusedly transformed with a silent, logical question.

- Because... I don't think it can be that I am so extraordinary.

And the Doctor was already again overcome with boredom at such an answer, closing his eyes, if only he had not heard:

– ...but rather I want to think that I am not alone in the Universe who thinks, feels and perceives the world in the same way. Even if I never talk to this person, even if this someone lives on the other side of the continent, a hundred miles away... I still want to believe that I am not alone.

– Even if it is self-deception? – Dottore cannot accept someone else's logic, because it does not give him peace: blind faith is too naive and stupid, it smacks of some weakness and... Humility. And yet the next phrase makes him feel something, even if it is completely ghostly and implicit.

– When you feel lonely, involuntarily... You don't have to choose. Only this keeps you afloat. And can hope in the hearts of people be considered a lie? And if so... Is bad really considered bad.

The Doctor did not notice how the evening flew by, however, he was not the only one. To be honest, he had never liked to drink tea before. But his invasion of personal space felt like something truly casual. Like a calm conversation.

[bregee13]

Drawn to Life: Mario Party Edition

Round 2

(Last Chapter) | (Start)

(Available on ao3)

😥

Mari started by rolling a four, passing Jowee, but just shy of reaching the star. "Ah, I was so close.."

"Haha! Watch this Mari, here's how the masters do it!" Patting his lover's back, Jowee rolled a six, reaching the star. But he didn't have enough coins. "W-What?! What do you mean I can't afford it? I thought they cost ten!"

Mari giggled. She knew he wasn't paying attention to the star price the second he boasted about buying it the last turn.

"Oh. No, the stars cost twenty coins." Mike explained.

"Aw, I thought we were all given enough to buy the first star?"

Mike shook his head no. "It's just a boost."

"Oh," Jowee slumped in his seat. 'Why did I misread that?'

Wilfre chuckled. "It's foolish of you to not pay attention to the basic rules."

"Hmph." Blushing, Jowee glared at the hooded Raposa. 'You Jerk! I WAS paying attention! I-' He sadly looked down at his screen. 'I THOUGHT I was paying attention..'

Mari patted Jowee's back. "You'll get one soon, don't worry."

Jowee smiled softly at her. "Thanks."

Passing Daisy, Yoshi entered the shop. "Ooh what do we have here? Double Dice, Warp Block, Half Dice, Snag Bag. Hmm! I could use all of these!" After excitedly pondering his options, Jowee bought a double dice.

'He already watched me go over the exact same items last turn? Why did this Baki take the time to go over and read the item descriptions again? Is he trying to get on my nerves?!' The impatient Wilfre sunk into his hoodie, irritated.

Leaving the shop, Yoshi came to another split in the path. "Rapo, now what do I do?"

"Why don't you use the map?" Mari suggested.

"Map?" 'Oh yeah, I think I remember Wilfre using it last turn.' "You mean this thing?" Jowee selected the map, giving him an overhead view of the board. "Hmm. If I go this way, I might get to do something with that wheel thingy. But if I do that, I'd have to go aaaaaall the way around to get to the star again." He thought about it for a moment. "I'm gonna keep going for the star." He said before landing on another red space. "Rapo! Not again!"

Mari laughed. 'He's so silly!'

"*GASP* How dare you laugh at me!" Jowee joked.

Mari continued to laugh. "Haha, I'm so sorry!"

"You better be!" Jowee grinned.

Wilfre had a headache.

Mike rolled a three. "Aw, man."

'Hopefully the human won't take nearly as long in the shop...' Wilfre thought.

Mike entered the shop to purchase a double dice and a warp block. Afterwards, he landed on a blue space. 

Wilfre let out a sigh of relief, glad Mike's turn didn't take very long.

Finally came Wilfre's turn. With his double dice he rolled a four and a two, making a collective six. "Urgh.." He had hoped for a bigger role.

Being the third player to enter the shop that round, Wilfre almost felt that he had to make a good example and show the others how it's done. Carefully and quietly, he pondered his options. 'Though the last double dice was a disappointment, the addition of a second dice will certainly aid in travelling the board.' He bought a double dice. The warp block didn't interest him, and neither did the half dice. 'Why would I want to limit my speed now? Or start on an unknown space?' The snag bag however, made him curious. 'A chance to steal another player's item. ..Like another double dice? Hmm.' He bought a snag bag. 'That's enough.' He left the shop.

"He took even longer than last time..." Jowee muttered under his breath. 

"Jowee, shut up." Mari corrected through gritted teeth. Praying that Wilfre didn't hear him.

Wilfre was shocked. 'I didn't intend on taking my time? I was trying to do the exact opposite of that...' He blushed, embarrassed. ...Then he got angry. "And what are YOU complaining about?!"

"Huh?"

"You appear to enjoy taking your time yourself. Isn't that right?"

"What the Rapo are you talking about?"

"Stupid Raposa! You know precisely what I meant!" Wilfre snapped. "You are no better than I am, yet you act as though you are!"

"I'm not-! Y-You're the one that thinks he's better than everyone else!"

"Jowee, stop!" Mari protested.

"No, let him speak." Wilfre approached Jowee. "Tell me, what exactly do you think I am?"

"Oh God, we didn't even get through the second turn... And I thought I'd catch a BREAK coming here." Mike muttered to himself, regretting everything.

"SHUT IT, MIKE!" Wilfre snapped. "You're not going anywhere yet."

Mike followed Wilfre's order, and decided to keep quiet and stay put.

Wilfre redirected his focus back to Jowee, and grimaced. Grabbing him by the shoulder. "Well? What. Am. I?"

Jowee shook. The words struggling to come together. "I-I-!" He looked to Mari, who's eyes were as wide as a Baki's. He felt like he was disappointing her, angering Wilfre, but he couldn't help how he felt. He turned back to Wilfre, gritting his teeth and staring into his supposed soul. "You!! I-!" 'You're evil!!! You killed Mari's dad!! You tried to overthrow The Creator!!!! You ALMOST KILLED US ALL!!! You!! You took ADVANTAGE of BOTH of us!!! You BETRAYED US!!! You LIED to ME! I FUCKING TRUSTED YOU!!! I THOUGHT YOU WERE MY FRIEND!!! And NOW you're expecting EVERYTHING to be FINE?!!! TO ALL GO YOUR WAY!?!!!! I HATE YOU!! I HATE YOU!! I FUCKING HATE YOU!!!!!' "I..." Tears rushed down his face. "I don't know what I think..." 

Wilfre softened his gaze, as he watched the Raposa's eyes instantaneously turn from rage to pure sadness. Both emotions hooked onto him like a rip current pulling him toward certain death. He let go. And silently stepped back. 

Mari rushed to Jowee's side. "Jowee!! It's okay, it's... it's okay." She comforted, trying to wipe the tears.

Jowee couldn't bring himself to respond, burying his face into her shoulder.

Wilfre trembled. 'What have I done? I've allowed my emotions to get to me and I hurt him..! Darkness!! What does he think I am now?!! What does Mari think? ...What would anyone think? Perhaps Jowee was right, maybe I am a selfish monster. How could anyone possibly see me as one of them? At this rate, I'll never be able to return as a Raposa.' He took a deep breath. 'No, No! I can't give up yet! I-I just need to keep my mind together.'

"Um," Mike spoke up. "Is everyone good?"

"What do you think?" Wilfre answered. 

"It's just, if not, maybe I should go home..."

"Ah. I see," Wilfre felt his body sink. "That'd be unfortunate." '...I was really looking forward to playing this game.'

"Hey, um," Mari butt in. "Me and Jowee are gonna go take a breath of fresh air. W-we'll be back in a moment, okay?"

"Sounds good." Mike said.

Wilfre nodded, hiding under his hood.

"Excuse us.." Mari held onto the shaken Jowee, and left the Village Hall.

A new awkward silence filled the air.

Wilfre looked down at his game, considering whether or not to continue his turn. But without anyone else involved, it just wasn't the same anymore.

"So... Uh," Mike began. "What is it that you do, exactly?"

"What do I do?" Wilfre set his console down. "If you must know, I'm assisting the Mayor in protecting both of our realms from the forces of Shadow. ...Being a Shadow expert, as it were."

"Well, yeah. I kinda got that part. But, how?"

"To put it simply, I have... insider knowledge."

"...Okay? That's vague as hell."

"Don't be snarky with me." Wilfre glared. "I'll share what I will. You do your job, and I'll do mine. Got it?"

"My... job?"

He sighed. "Don't succumb to the Shadow, and don't kill yourself."

"...Oh."

It was silent again.

"So," Mike twiddled his thumbs. "Are they gonna come back, or??"

"…" Wilfre rose from his seat and walked to the door. 

"What are you-?"

Wilfre shushed him before putting his ear against the door. From there he could hear Jowee babbling between heavy breaths.

"I don't know, I don't know-! I-I'm sorry…" Jowee sat against the village hall's wall, overwhelmed. 

Mari sat down beside him, not sure what to do. "Jowee, it's okay. Relax. You don't have to be sorry about anything," She put her paw on his. "What's wrong?"

Jowee trembled. How could he possibly find any of the words?

"…Is it Wilfre?"

He turned his head and shrugged. 

Mari was certain that was it. "Jowee, I know it's tough, but we need to get used to him. It's for the greater good."

Jowee felt a big pit in his stomach. "I know," he croaked. "But I just can't..." 

"Jowee?"

"I'm sorry! I can't do it!! I-I can't trust him! I!!" He choked on his words, breaking down into a sob.

Mari looked down at the grass, guilty. 'What am I doing?! Forcing him to be okay with this? ...Some fiance I am.' "Jowee, it's okay. ...You don't have to keep playing this game if you don't want to. I-I can get it to stop."

He shook his head. "*hic* That's the worst part," Jowee squeaked, head in his paws. "I kinda want to keep going". 

"What?"

"I-I don't know... It doesn't make any sense," Jowee tugged on his ears. "I feel so stupid..."

"Oh, Jowee...." She inched closer. "I think I get what you mean."

"*sniff* You do?"

"..."

The two sat there silent for a moment.

"He's so evil for everything he did.." Jowee spurted out, tears still running down his cheeks.

"...I know." Mari admitted.

"But, for some reason, I... I wish it was different."

"Me too." She sighed. 

"Why?? Why couldn't we be friends? Like how I thought So- HE was."

Mari paused to think. "Maybe you still can be?"

Jowee smiled, but quickly frowned again. "No, NO!! NO!!! I can't!! It'll NEVER happen!!! He'll just betray us again! How could I possibly trust that monster?!!"

Wilfre listened, distraught, before stepping back from the door.

"Well, what's going on out there?!" Mike asked.

"It's nothing of your concern." Wilfre looked down at the floor, tail between his legs.

Curious, and not fully convinced by Wilfre, Mike went up to the door and listened himself.

"Jowee, calm down! Somebody will hear you! Besides, that's not going to happen."

"How do you know?! How can anyone know!?!"

"...I don't," She confessed. "I just. Trust him."

"W-Why?"

Mari sighed. "I don't know. It just feels like the right thing to do."

"...I know you feel that. And, maybe you're right. But sometimes I think about him and get so mad that I stop caring if it's the right thing or not."

"Jowee..."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be like that.. It's not like me."

"It's fine, but. What are we going to do now?"

Jowee thought for a second, wiping his nose with his scarf. "I think I'm gonna go back in there and try to finish what we started."

"Do you think you'll be okay?" She handed him a handkerchief to use instead.

Jowee smiled "...I'll try. No promises."

"Oh, Jowee."

Mike stepped away from the door and looked at the downtrodden Wilfre. What could be possibly say? Should he even say anything? After all, they're not exactly wrong about Wilfre. Mike was fearful himself. And yet the supposed monster looked like some kind of sad wet cat in the rain. 

"Well?" Wilfre looked up at the human. "What did you hear?"

"Um," he paused. "I heard that I'll be sticking around a little longer."

Wilfre perked up. "Really?"

Mike nodded.

"I see..." 'Perhaps this is my chance at redemption,' He thought. 'I shall take this opportunity to turn the tables! And I shall win this game!!' Wilfre slowly grinned.

Mike carefully backed away from Wilfre, and returned to his seat.

"Ah-" Wilfre's grin faded. 'I should sit as well...'

After a few minutes, the door opened. "Uh, hi everyone." Mari entered. "Sorry for the wait."

"You're fine." Mike assured.

Jowee awkwardly trailed behind her. "H-hey..." He fidgeted. "I-I'm sorry for what I did earlier. I hope we can keep going."

Wilfre looked up at the Raposa and quietly nodded.

'He didn't even say anything?!' Jowee looked to Mari, who silently reassured him with a faint smile.

"Well, let's get back to it!" Mike exclaimed as the two returned to the game.

Resuming his turn, Wilfre came across the same path split Jowee did. Pulling up the map, he realized that could interact with the roulette wheel if he were to go the other way. So he did. "Wheel of Wonder, huh?" The game prompted Wilfre to choose how many coins to bet. 'I shouldn't use them all in case this doesn't pay off, however I only have 6 left. And earning as much money as fast as possible sounds like a decent strategy.' He selected 5 coins.

"Uh, that's a lot of your coins." Mike pointed out. "A-Are you sure you should-?"

Wilfre finalized his wager. 'It won't matter if I lose. I can always win more later. And if I don't deserve any more, I'd at least like to feel something.' He then had the choice between three sections of the wheel. Half of the wheel that awarded double the wager, a smaller portion that promised triple, and the smallest that awarded quintuple. Though part of him wanted to go for the times five, he held himself back and went for the times three. 

The wheel spun and spun. Everyone was at the edge of their seat, waiting for the wheel to stop as the timer counted down.

Wilfre pressed a button. The wheel slowed down further and further until it came to a stop. Right on the times three portion. 

"What?!" Jowee exclaimed. 'That's a lot!!'

"Woah!" Mari joined in.

The game awarded Daisy with 15 coins.

"Wow, Wilfre! That's really lucky!" Mike complimented.

Everyone seemed to that he was lucky, but Wilfre knew better. His little button press lined up just the same place it had stopped. That was no mere game of luck. It was a game of timing. Wilfre happily nodded along to everyone. The later they found out the truth, the better. 

Wilfre's icon turned blue. 

"Looks like it's everyone against Jowee this time." Mike noted.

"Wait, what?!"

"Ah, Jowee. Don't worry, we won't be too hard on you!" Mari assured him. "Right, everyone?"

"Uh," Mike nodded, awkward. "Y-yeah, right!"

Wilfre just looked at Jowee, silent. 

"Uhh, Wilfre will go easy on you too." '...Maybe?'

"Um, t-thanks?" Jowee shuffled in his seat.

The game roulette picked a minigame called Flash and Dash. Where the players are put in a maze. Three of them equipped with flashlights are tasked with finding the one player.

Jowee dropped into the maze, only to be placed right next to Mari. 'Rapo Rapo Rapo!!'

Mari immediately noticed Jowee and ran the other way, pretending to not see him. 

'Phew..' Jowee wandered the maze for a while before running into Mike. 

"I see you, Jowee!" Mike proceeded to chase after him. Though, not too close to actually catch him.

"Ah!" Jowee quickly managed to outrun him, and found himself wandering the maze without any sign of anyone. 'Uhh... is anyone there?'

Mari came into frame, only to notice Jowee and turn around.

'Did Mari just run away from me?? What the Rapo is going on?!' Jowee continued to go through the maze. 'Are they hand holding me?? Rapo!!! They're hand holding me!!!' He grimaced. 'That's it! Where are they?!' Jowee ran through the maze, hunting for anyone. ANYONE to chase him fair and square.

He'd come across Mike and Mari once in a while, and get chased a little, only for them to seemingly give up and turn away.

Jowee could feel his blood boil, when he came across Wilfre. 'Oh, it's HIM. He'll probably just ignore me too!'

But as soon as the thought entered his mind, Wilfre turned to him and proceeded to give a mighty chase. Left! Right! Up! Down! Left again! Wilfre was just inches behind, and showed no signs of slowing.

'This is just a bluff! He'll turn around any second now!'

Wilfre did not turn around. And he did not slow down. He kept up the pace, and the gap between them grew smaller and smaller.

Jowee looked up from his game to see Wilfre intently focused on his screen. He was not bluffing.

Jowee ran as fast as he could, attempting to shake him off, but Wilfre only grew closer and closer. Jowee's heart pounded. Almost as though he were running from the shadowy fiend in real life. Wilfre came even closer and closer until he was right on Jowee's tail. One false move, and it would be over. "No no no no!!" 3…2…1…

The game was over. 

Yoshi stood above everyone else, jumping for joy. 

"I.. I won?"

"Way to go, Jowee!" Mari cheered.

"Yeah, congrats." Mike added.

"I won..." He looked over at Wilfre, and carefully approached him. "Good game, Wilfre." He reached out his paw. 

Stunned, Wilfre took his paw and shook it. "You too."

End Round Stats

Mari: 0 Stars, 27 Coins, no Items, 0 Items Used, +1 Blue Spaces, 0 Red Spaces, 0 Green Spaces, 0 Hexes Set, 1 Friends Made, 1 Minigames Won, 9 Steps Taken

Jowee: 0 Stars, 16 Coins, Ten Coin Hex + Double Dice, 0 Items Used, 0 Blue Spaces, 2 Red Spaces, 0 Green Spaces, 0 Hexes Set, 0 Friends Made, +1 Minigames Won, 14 Steps Taken

Mike: 0 Stars, 21 Coins, Double Dice + Warp Block, 0 Items Used, 2 Blue Spaces, 0 Red Spaces, 0 Green Spaces, 0 Hexes Set, 0 Friends Made, 1 Minigames Won, 8 Steps Taken

Wilfre: 0 Stars, 16 Coins, Double Dice + Snag Bag, 1 Items Used, 0 Blue Spaces, 0 Red Spaces, 2 Green Spaces, 0 Hexes Set, 0 Friends Made, 0 Minigames Won, 15 Steps Taken

[versatileginger]

HIDDEN | CHAPTER 3

Billy Russo x OC (Ava) 

Warnings: Not canon, violence, weapons, stalking (not MMC), murder, everything you'd find in The Punisher universe, no betrayal. 

Summary: Billy meets someone that piques his interest. Did he mention she carries a knife?

A/N: Chapter 3 everyone, I hope you enjoy! Feel free to hmu with recs of your own!

Billy's day began with the early light seeping through the curtains, signaling the start of another meticulously planned morning. It was a routine etched into the very fabric of his being, a well-practiced ballet of discipline and determination.

He stretched his lean frame, the cool sheets slipping off his body as he rose from the bed. The hardwood floors felt cool beneath his feet as he moved with precision, his steps silent and purposeful. His home gym beckoned, a sanctum of sweat and effort where he'd sculpted his body into an instrument of power and resilience.

Entering the gym, the weights stood ready like old friends, solid and unyielding. An intense workout followed, each repetition a reminder that amidst the chaos and danger that often consumed his life, this was the one sanctuary where he had absolute control.

Emerging from his workout, Billy's attention shifted to his phone, the screen lighting up on a nearby bench. A notification caught his eye, the sender's name sparking a playful grin:

"Mr Russo.’’

Unlocking his phone, his eyes scanned the text message. A smile tugged at his lips as her playful, teasing tone came through the words.

'’If only I had known I was dealing with the CEO from Anvil…’’

Billy couldn't help but smirk at Ava's message. She had a way of cutting through the seriousness of life with her playful tone. He quickly typed a reply, his morning immediately getting better.

'’And what would you have done differently, Ava?’’

Billy continued with his morning routine, heading to his walk-in closet to get dressed for the day. As he selected a crisp shirt and a well-tailored suit, his phone buzzed with another message from Ava.

'’Well, Mr. Russo, perhaps I would have prepared a PowerPoint presentation for our pool hall meeting. I could have dazzled you with colorful slides and pie charts to discuss our adventures! ;)’’.

Billy couldn't resist the opportunity to engage in Ava's playful banter. As he prepared to leave for work, he swiftly typed a reply to her message.

'’Ava, I'm quite intrigued by the idea of a PowerPoint presentation. Let's make it happen, shall we? I'll bring the pie charts if you handle the colorful slides! How about tonight? ;)’’

‘’Sounds like a plan, my place? I have some fun games laying around.’’ Ava replies.

With a smirk on his face, he texts her he’ll be there at 8 and tucks his phone into the pocket of his suit jacket. The thought of their playful exchange lingered in his mind as he headed out the door, ready to face another day at the helm of Anvil, but now with a touch of anticipation.

Across the city, Ava's morning was infused with a similar anticipation. The sun's warm embrace through her apartment window seemed to mirror the warmth she felt for Billy, their recent interactions adding a spark of excitement to her otherwise routine life.

As she dressed for work, Ava's thoughts drifted towards Billy, She was really looking forward to later today. Anticipation fluttered in her chest as she headed out, the cozy coffee shop her destination of choice.

Upon entering the café, a tinge of disappointment washed over Ava as she scanned the room. Billy was nowhere to be seen. Instead, her gaze fell upon her coworker Mark, engrossed in a book at a corner table.

With a slight adjustment of her expectations, Ava approached Mark, a friendly smile gracing her lips.

"Morning, Mark," she greeted, taking a seat opposite him.

Mark looked up from his literary world, a pleasant surprise evident on his face.

"Ava, what a lovely surprise! You're not usually here this early."

Ava chuckled, "I could say the same about you. As a matter of fact, I haven't seen you here before, I believe."

"Always up for trying something new," Mark replied with a casual shrug.

"So, Mark, what book has captured your attention this morning?" Ava inquired, her curiosity piqued.

Mark proudly displayed the cover, revealing a science fiction novel titled "The Time Traveler's Dilemma."

"I'm a sucker for stories that explore the concept of time travel," he explained. "It's fascinating to ponder the possibilities, don't you think?"

Ava nodded in agreement, her interest sparked. "Absolutely! Time travel is such an intriguing concept. It's amazing how authors can transport us to different eras and make us question the boundaries of time."

Mark smiled, appreciating Ava's enthusiasm. "I couldn't agree more. It's like escaping into another world, even if just for a little while. A great way to unwind after a long day."

Ava couldn't help but notice Mark's enthusiasm, however a small voice in the back of her mind reminded her of the peculiar encounters she had been having with him lately.

As they chatted, Ava couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. She discreetly scanned the room, searching for any familiar faces, but found nothing out of the ordinary. Brushing off the uneasiness, she refocused her attention on Mark.

"So, Ava, anything exciting happening in your life recently?" Mark asked, breaking her train of thought.

Ava hesitated for a moment, "Oh, just the usual routine. Work, coffee, and the occasional unexpected surprise," she replied, giving Mark a playful smile.

Mark raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Unexpected surprises, huh? Care to elaborate?"

Ava chuckled, deciding to keep her encounters with Billy a mystery for now. "Oh, you know, just little things that brighten up my day. Life has a way of surprising us when we least expect it, don't you think?"

Mark nodded in agreement, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Indeed, it does. Well, I hope these unexpected surprises continue." Mark replied with a big smile.

As their conversation continued, Ava couldn't help but wonder if Mark knew more than he let on. She pushed the thought aside, thinking to herself that he couldn’t know.

As Mark continued to chat with Ava, he couldn't help but wonder if the "unexpected surprises" she mentioned had something to do with him. Her cryptic responses and the spark in her eyes when she spoke made him question if there was a connection.

"You're being rather mysterious about these surprises," Mark observed, his tone laced with curiosity. "Are they related to work? Or perhaps someone you know?"

Ava smiled mysteriously, playing along with Mark's inquiries. "Oh, Mark, you have quite the imagination," she replied with a teasing glint in her eye. "Let's just say some of them might involve people I've met recently."

Mark's mind raced with possibilities, and he couldn't help but wonder if Ava was referring to their own interactions. He decided to tread carefully, not wanting to make any assumptions.

"Well," Mark said with a subtle smile, "If you ever decide to share more about these surprises, you know where to find me. I'm always here to lend an ear."

As their conversation continued, Ava couldn’t help but feel as if Mark knew more than she thought he did, but decided to brush it off.

‘’Will do.’’ she replied.

As their conversation came to a close, Mark rose from his seat, carefully sliding a bookmark adorned with dried flowers between the pages of his book.

"Ready to head to work?" Mark inquired, his gaze shifting to Ava.

Ava, savoring the last sip of her coffee, responded with a nod and a warm smile. "Sure thing," she said, rising from her chair and deftly tossing her empty cup into the nearby trash bin.

The morning's hustle gradually eased into the afternoon rhythm, hours slipping by as Ava navigated the demands of her work. Deadlines ticked away, presentations received their final polish, and the office buzz provided a constant hum to her focused efforts. Yet, amidst the whirlwind of emails, meetings, and spreadsheets she couldn’t help but wonder who the flowers she received on her doorstep were from.

As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the cityscape, Ava's phone chimed, signaling an incoming text. It was from Billy, his playful tone evident even through the screen.

"Ready to get your ass kicked tonight?"

Ava couldn't suppress a grin, her fingers flying across the keyboard in response.

"Don't underestimate my skills, Mr. Russo. And besides, I'm not sure you've had enough time to practice between your CEO duties and keeping that physique up-to-date."

She hit send, a smile on her face. She did appreciate his physique, she had eyes after all.

Ava refocused her attention on the glowing screen of her laptop. With a few swift keystrokes, she saved her work, a sense of accomplishment washing over her as she closed the lid. Rising from her desk, she grabbed her bag.

As her phone chimed another time she picked it up from her desk, a notification right there at the top of her screen.

‘’;)’’

MAIN MASTERLIST HIDDEN MASTERLIST CHAPTER 4

[moonystoes]

They went on vacation years ago, to a city very pink washed for the public. I don’t like it either. I actually really like them precisely because they are people who learn and correct themselves. If they end up disappointing me like going again, then I’d unfollow and throw away my 5 Harder shirts. I unfollowed Sara Björk no problem weeks ago after her recent signing, and I also loved her. The thing is if people improve or the opposite. And believe me, you want all “blonde” people to improve, for the sake of the world.

THANK YOU!

This is what I'm talking about.

[galacticwildfire]

Young and Beautiful ch.19 excerpt

Bucky Barnes x oc Content warning: references to torture and description of injury, forced undressing and imprisonment/kidnapping. Two black widows picking at each other's wounds. Set during Captain America: The First Avenger, with references to Agent Carter.

“Adeline,” a singsong voice chimes and my stomach drops as I raise my head to find Doreteya sitting opposite to me. We’re in the back of a moving truck and I can scarcely recall how I ended up here, but when I look down and find a bandage wrapped around my thigh it slowly comes back to me.

It’s only then I feel the chill of cold air and realise I’m naked with the exception of my undergarments, and she’s wearing my damn uniform.

“Crazy bitch,” I mutter in Russian and she just smiles. 

“I’m disappointed in you Adelina, you used to be so much sharper,” Doreteya chastises. “After all, the infamous Red Widow who took out four of us widows should be able to handle little old me? But then again, you didn’t have the advantage of killing me in my sleep did you?”

“Since when did you care about a fair fight?” I question and she just shrugs, eyeing me with the same calculating precision as a catlike predator in what she believes to be a silent assertion of dominance. 

“I was hoping I’d get one with you, but despite all that serum you truly don’t live up to your name after all,” she says, looking my almost naked form up and down. “I’ve got to say though, the pinup posters don’t do you justice. Although it does look like they painted over those nasty bullet scars you’ve got there.”

She could kill me in more excruciating ways than any man has the intellect to imagine or the skill to perform, but at least I’m safe from her doing to me what those men would in this state. “Was stripping me necessary?”

“Of course it was, I couldn’t let you sit there with god knows what stashed away in those clothes,” she says and runs her hands over the fabric of my uniform. “Carbon polymer, it’s a good thing I decided to use my good knives otherwise you would’ve just ended up with a nasty bruise on that thigh.”

I look down at the blood soaked bandage wrapped around my leg, lightheaded from the blood loss but recovering. “How considerate of you.”

“Ah, you’ve developed a sense of humour while you’ve been parading about as Miss America,” Doreteya notes and my eyes follow her as she walks in a circle, tapping a blade against her palm before posing for me and putting on an American accent that’s far too similar to my own voice. “What do you think? With a bit of hair dye and some contact lenses do you think I could pass for Miss America?” She then changes her accent slightly, upbeat and girlish. “Or, do you think I could be Dottie Underwood, a ballerina looking for a big city adventure in New York.” She changes accent again, something deep and sultry. “Or perhaps Ida Emke, a socialite looking for an illicit affair with a stupidly rich man.”

“Or you could be Doreteya Undakova, sold off by her parents during famine,” I say and her face darkens while I only take pleasure in unbalancing her. “Unwanted, unloved, and despite all your efforts… still second best.”

She takes one of my own pistols and aims it at my head, but if she was allowed to kill me then I’d already be dead. I don’t know how long’s passed since the crash, I don’t know if Howard’s alive, and I don’t know where I am, but I'm face to face with an extremely deadly and utterly unstable woman, and being one myself I know exactly how to exploit those qualities.