#alright i admit it's been more than a few days but in my defense i didn't initially anticipate giffing this video

[radio-4-is-static]

「LOST CORNER」 クロスフェード | Kenshi Yonezu listen to the new album here!!

[captain039]

PART 5 Tender hearted souls

Hugh Jackman x reader

Warnings: Age gap, slow burn, feelings, hurt/comfort, two fools in love, angst, light swearing, mental health issues, daddy issues, daddy!dom/little girl, plus size reader,

Previous part <-

You’re nervous the whole day. Waiting till he’s sound of mind if it’ll ever happen. You stay in your room, avoiding lunch, hearing him shuffle around a few times, his desk chair squeaking. You’ve gotten up more than once going this is the time to talk now then ended up hiding under your blankets saying that it wasn’t in fact the time. It’s about dinner time you think, you hear someone at the door, take away you think, Hugh answers it and then you hear his footsteps coming closer. You tense up sit up like you haven’t been lying in your bed all day over thinking. He knocks lightly two pizza boxes in his hand and two drinks. He asks you silently if he can come in and you nod as he lets out a small sigh, lays the two boxes on your bed and puts the drinks on your bedside table before sitting on the ground.

“You don’t have to sit on the ground” you say shuffling closer to where he sat.

“It’s alright” he says voice a little gruff. You sit in silence, eating some pizza, you keep glancing to him, looking at the back of his head before you can’t take it. You struggle but you manage to sit on the floor beside him, sort of sliding off the bed. He raises an eyebrow but smiles handing you your drink. After you’re both fall you stare at that wall, quite literally, occasionally taking sips of your drink.

“So” Hugh finally begins and you tense up but mentally ready yourself.

“Spose we should talk” he says voice quieter and you nod.

“Where did you wanna begin?” He asks and you watch him swallow.

“The day before dinner” you say and he nods giving you a small glance.

“What went through your head? On the couch?” You ask fiddling with your bottle as you hear him take a small breath.

“How beautiful you were” he mutters and you flush not expecting that answer.

“When you smile like that and that laugh, uncontrolled” he smiles chuckling softly.

“I couldn’t stop thinking how beautiful you were, your soft red cheeks, the rise and fall of your chest” he continues and you forget to breathe.

“I wanted to kiss you then” he admits and you remember to breathe nodding.

“I stopped myself, cursed myself to hell pretty much” he sighs and you see the frown on his face.

“And ignored me for the rest of the day” you add quietly and he scoffs but nods.

“Yeah” he nods.

“The dinner?” You ask.

“I was jealous” he says and you frown, jealous of who?

“Of who?” You ask confused.

“Everyone, the air you breathed” he sighs arms tensing.

“Oh” you mumble.

“You pulled me away with this look in your eyes, desperate, heart broken and I broke” he adds hanging his head.

“You kissed me” you say and he nods.

“Yeah, I kissed you” he repeats quietly with a loud sigh.

“I kissed you back” you say.

“I know you did” he says softer a small smile playing at his lips.

“Why’d you leave?” You ask voice trembly.

“Because I hated myself” he says.

“Why?” You ask.

“Because I’d forced myself on you” you frown, you didn’t feel forced.

“You didn’t force yourself on me, I didn’t say no or push you off” you say and he sighs.

“You should’ve” he mumbles and it makes you frown and breaks your heart.

“Why?” You say tone sterner.

“You’re a young beautiful woman, you don’t need or want someone like me” he says looking to you. You frown at him, anger rising up.

“What do you know about what I need or want?” You say defensively.

“You ran off without a word storming out like a damn child and left me there!” You say before he can speak as you stand a little quickly.

“I needed to clear my head” he says calmer.

“Clear your head right, well I couldn’t, I couldn’t stop thinking about you the whole fucking time!” You take a breath, controlling yourself for a moment.

“You didn’t text or call, or give any indication of if you were alright or at least processing” you say looking to him on the floor, he looks embarrassed as he looks away.

“I was at the bar” he says.

“I know you were” you state.

“I was trying to get drunk and find someone” he adds and the words hurt.

“You were trying to find someone” you mumble it. Shaking your head.

“I couldn’t, I looked at them and they weren’t you, so I went home and cried myself to sleep after jerking off to the thought of you” his words make you frown, he did look like shit, not to the point of crying shit though. You try not to react to the jerking off part and nod curtly.

“Jesus” he mutters crossing his legs. You take a small breath trying to ground yourself.

“I’ve known you for years, since you were a youngen” he mutters leaning back and looking to you.

“I watched you grow, watched you become a woman” he sighs.

“I hated that distance you put between us, but i shouldn’t have forced it close again” he adds.

“You know why I did that?” You ask and he shakes his head.

“Because I had feelings for you, grown up ones, I was pining after you like a puppy, I wanted to touch you, kiss you, run my hands through your hair, feel your body on mine-“ you take a breath seeing his eyes go wide.

“So I tried to remove myself from the situation, but I hated it, I cried most nights because I missed the feelings on your hugs, the smell of you, your fun, your jokes everything” you sigh.

“I missed you too much so played pretend, acted like I didn’t want more every time you hugged me, or every time id stay over id think about going into your room just to see what you’d do, or how we go out everywhere, your arm always around my shoulders, or your hand in mine” you feel tears roll down your face and you wipe them away quickly.

“I couldn’t help but think deeper, wonder what it’d be like if those hand holdings went deeper, protectiveness, this is mine” you made a fist with your hand by your side.

“Or at restaurants we’d be the couple they’d kick out because your hands would be on me more, I-“ you laugh quietly, all these scenarios in your head.

“I want you, I need you in some fucked up way” you mumble watching him stand his eyes on yours.

“Well?” You ask trying to keep your emotions in check. He stands by you, close, close enough for your breaths to mingle.

“You need me?” He asks softly and you scoff a bit, feeling his hand go to your neck holding you firmly. There’s a look in his eyes, one you can’t place and it sends a shudder through you, makes your head nod.

“Words” he says.

“Yes, fucks sake, I do I-“ you stutter off. He kisses you again, lips firmly against yours, nose to cheek. You moan softly clutching his shirt with your fists. His hand on your neck keeps you in place while his other goes to your hip. He tilts your head kissing you deeper as you breathe heavily through your nose before you can’t breathe. You whine softly pulling back and pant loudly, air flowing into your lungs, forehead against each other. You unclench your hands from his shirt, watching his chest rise and fall, just as quick as yours. You nod to yourself like you need to confirm that just happened.

“Are we done talking?” He mutters and you frown a bit.

“I don’t know” you mutter back.

“I’m not gonna touch you if you’re not, but if you are” his hand on your hips clench and you take in a small breath.

“Oh” you breathe out.

[familyvideostevie]

ok but meeting remus lupin during the end of nov and admitting how melancholy this time of year makes u feel and that's it ur invited to all the marauders events over the holidays and spend new years together

my first attempt at remus! this really ran away from me, but i hope you like it! i am still finding my footing with him but this was great fun. | fem!reader, strangers to friends to lovers, nye kiss, 3.3k

You meet Remus at a local book club, of all places.

A flyer on the bookshop notice board tells you the group meets every other week -- a bit frequently, in your opinion, but you've got the time to read so you figure you'll give it ago. Moving to a new place means you haven't got many, or any, really, friends, and you could do with getting out of the house more. The days are getting shorter and you find yourself a bit more lonely with each passing day.

The group, when you go for the first time, consists of eight elderly women (though, they are sure to inform you, sometimes numbers swell to as many as 15), you, and Remus. They ask for your name and your age, which they all titter at.

"I, uh," you say, crossing your legs and shifting in your folding chair. "I'm really happy to be here," you say. "Thank you for letting me join." That seems to soften them, and they all are a bit more smiley as they introduce themselves.

It is clear right away that they adore Remus. It's not surprising -- he's handsome in a tired way, a ragged way. His face is a mash-up of sharp edges and tight scars that slash across his nose, but his eyes are soft and warm. You want to inspect every inch of him, so naturally you look away. 

It takes three meetings for you to say much. After four, you see Remus at the grocery store twice in one week. You wonder if he lives around here. By the fifth meeting, you're fairly sure you've got your footing. You chime in more often than not, and they're going to let you pick a book next month. It's the last meeting before you all break for the holidays and you are quite sad to not have these to look forward to for the next few weeks. But you push it down and instead focus on your impassioned defense of the unlikable narrator in this week's novel.

"It's the edge that makes the story so compelling," you say. "We get to judge her because we recognize her, but we don't know why until too late. It's because she's normal, and we're meant to see ourselves in her." You've gone on for too long, and after you finish, you don't know where to look. Remus is smiling at you, as he always does.

"Brilliant," says Florence, the bookstore owner and facilitator "What a way to end! I can't wait to see what you come up with in the new year, dear." She hands out the plates of cookies that she made for everyone and the ladies begin to go their separate ways. You're juggling your book, bag, and the plate while you try to shove an arm through your coat. A hand appears in your vision to grab the items in your grip.

"You alright?" It's Remus. He smells like chocolate and something earthier. You've spoken a few times, but not much apart from a hello here and there. He complimented your sweater last meeting and the words burned in your brain for days. You nod, quickly sliding into your coat before taking your things back. His fingers are warm where they brush yours.

"Thanks," you say. The bookshop is almost empty.

"I agree with you, by the way," he says. You've noticed that when Remus talks to you, even if he's responding to something you've said in the group, he looks at you the whole time. His attention does not waver. It's both warming and unnerving.  "What you were saying about the narrator. I hadn't been able to put it into words like that, but I think you were spot on."

You start for the door and he follows. "I just think it's easy to fall into the trap of putting every character on one side of morality or the other," you say.

"Exactly!" He nods emphatically. "With a writer of this caliber the text encourages you to read about her with nuance and to consider that she's not just one thing." He holds the door for you and you both spill out into the chilly night air. The town has wrapped every lamppost and tree in lights that cast everything in a warm glow.

"Listen," Remus says. He looks especially lovely out here. You hug your plate of cookies close to your chest before you reach out to push away the lock of hair that's fallen across his forehead. "I know this is probably not going to come out well, so feel free to tell me to shove it."

You blink at him. What?

"I've seen you at the supermarket around the corner a few times," he continues. If you didn't know any better, you'd say he's being shy. "And I figure you live around here?" You nod. You've no reason to believe he's anything but a nice guy, but you know nothing about him. Even if you have also noticed him at the same store.

"Well," he keeps going. His smile is tight, the creases at the corner of his eyes deep in a way that screams nerves. "I was wondering, if you don't have plans that is, if you wanted to come to the pub with me? I'm meeting a few of my mates and I--." He runs a hand through his hair, fixing the piece you can't stop looking at. "Well, we don't get to talk much during club and I'd uh, like to get to know you?"

"Are you asking me to be friends?" you blurt out. Probably not the best thing to lead with, but he's really so handsome and he seems nice and you haven't got much to look forward to in your empty apartment and this is just a little bit overwhelming. His shoulders creep back down away from his ears and he grins.

"Yeah," he says. "I am."

"Okay," you say. "Lead the way." Remus doesn't strike you as someone who wears his emotions plainly, but his grin softens into something lighter and you think that you want to figure out how to read him.

You fall into step beside him. "It's not far," he says. "I do want to apologize in advance for my friends, though," he says.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, they're great. Don't get me wrong. I love them to pieces." He sighs. "But they're also a bloody pain."

You laugh loudly and suddenly. It feels nice. "Well, that's a ringing endorsement. It's alright though, I could use some friends."

Remus looks over at you and tugs on your elbow just once to tell you to turn with him. "You just moved here, yeah?"

"Well, a few months ago now, but I haven't had much luck with people." Between working and trying to keep your head above water, you haven't figure out how to add socializing into that yet. "And I don't really like...all this." You wave your hands in the air, gesturing at the lights and ribbons adorning the street.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," you say. "It all makes me feel a bit sad." You start to feel embarrassed. "Oh Remus, I'm sorry. We've barely spoken and I'm being all melancholy." He knocks his shoulder with yours and you look over at him to see he's still got a small smile on his face.

"Darling," he says. "I am as melancholy as they come. You're speaking my language."

---

The pub is crowded and noisy and you like it immediately. Remus takes your hand and leads you through the throng to a back corner where two guys are taking up an entire round booth with what seems to be an arm wrestling match.

"Surrender, Potter," one of them says. He's got a knot of dark hair tied into a bun and tiny hoops in each ear and one nostril.

"Fuck off," growls the other. You can tell right away that he's tall, maybe as tall as Remus. He's got messy hair and round spectacles. He is not winning the match.

"Idiots," Remus mutters. He lets go of your hand and places his palm on your lower back. "Hey, knock it off!" This distracts the boy with glasses, allowing the other one to slam his arm down on the table.

"Shove it," he cries. Remus rubs the bridge of his nose. You don't think they've noticed you yet.

"Where are the girls?" he asks. More friends? you think.

"They're coming," says the boy who lost. Potter, you think. His eyebrows climb up his forehead once he notices you standing next to Remus.

"Marlene called and said they had to stop at home first," adds the other one. His eyes find you and his gaze is sharp. "And who is this?" he says, eyeing you.

"Uh," you say. Remus's hand presses a little harder into your back. "Remus and I do book club together?" You put the plate of cookies down on the table like a peace offering.

"Merlin's beard," glasses boy whistles. "She's real."

The one with piecing looks delighted. "James, you owe me a fiver." He holds out his hand.

"Fuck off, Sirius," says...James. "Wait are those cookies?"

"As you can see," Remus sighs, "these gits are James and Sirius. Are you two about finished?" You look at him and his cheeks are a little pink but he's doing his best to look bored. James and Sirius break into roars of laughter as they scoot to make room for you both. Remus ushers you into the booth. "I'm going to get drinks," he says. "What would you like?"

"Whatever you're having," you tell him. You tug off your coat and don't know what to do with your hands.

"I want a stout, Remus," James says.

Remus doesn't even look at him. "I wasn't asking you, dear." He winks at you and turns on his heel, heading for the bar. You feel a bit strange to be left with two guys you just met, but this is how you make friends, right?

"So what's this about me not being real?" you ask. Sirius raps a tattooed knuckle on the table before reaching for a sugar cookie.

"Well," he drawls. "Lupin told us about his book club when he started going earlier this year but we don't hear much else about it. And then a little while ago, he comes to drinks and he says there's a new girl."

James says your name in a poor imitation of Remus's accent. You twist your fingers in your lap. "And he says a few things about this new girl," Sirius continues, until James elbows him.

"Keep your limbs to yourself, Potter," he grumbles.

James leans in, elbows on the table. "Remus hasn't made a new friend since like, grammar school. So naturally we thought he was having us on when he said you two were friendly."

"Oh," you say. He's been telling his friends that you're friendly? It makes your chest tight in a nice way, like you're being hugged. "Well, thank you for letting me crash your pub night," you say.

"Are you kidding?" Sirius deadpans. "We've been begging him to invite you for weeks." Remus returns before you can reply with two pale-looking pints. He sets them down and slides in next to you, close enough that it's clear you know him the most, even if that's barely true, but far enough that you're not touching except for your knees knocking under the table. He stretches an arm across the top of the booth behind you. You hope you're not staring.

"So how were the books this time?" James asks. His eyes say mischief but he seems to be willing to let you off the hook for now. You and Remus recount the drama from today's meeting. The boys ask you basic questions like what you do for work and how you like the city and what club you support, but none of it feels stale or disingenuous. In fact, it really feels like they want to get to know you.

"Well, surely you've been to the skating rink in the park." Sirius is interrogating you on what neighborhoods you've visited. You shake your head and he gasps like you've slapped him. "What about the market?"

"I don't really do the holidays very well," you say, a bit softly. He raps his knuckles on the table again and Remus presses his thigh into yours on purpose. "I just haven't got my footing yet. I haven't been here that long and I don't have a guide."

"Well that won't do," James says.

"You do now," Remus says. You turn to him and find that he's closer than you realized. His eyes bore into yours and he looks rather serious. "Have a guide, I mean. You'll just do everything with us." You blink. Is it really this easy? Making friends? A handsome boy wants to facilitate your holiday season and you don't really know what to say.

"Brilliant idea, Lupin," Sirius says happily. "I always say you're the smartest of us."

Remus kicks him. "Okay," you say. "That sounds nice."

"I'm sure Remus has your phone number," James says cheekily. "He'll sort it." Remus does not, in fact, have your phone number, but you remedy that by passing him your mobile. He taps away at it with one hand, the other still hovering just over your shoulders.

"Where the bloody fuck are the girls?" Sirius grumbles. It seems he can change moods from one moment to the next faster than anyone you've met before. "Marlene has my nice suede jacket from last week."

"And we need Lily here so James stops looking so put out," Remus says, not looking up from your phone. "Lily is his girlfriend," he adds for your benefit. "Are we not good enough for you, Jamie?"

James ignores him.

"More friends?" you say quietly. Remus nods.

"You'll like them. And they'll adore you." You've been friends with him for all of one night, but his tone is sincere. The pub lighting makes his scars softer and you fight against leaning into him as he talks.

"How do you know?"

His mouth curls up at one end in a smile that makes you shiver a little. "I just do."

__

It wouldn't do to develop a crush on your first real friend in town, so you try your best not to over the next few weeks. You fail miserably. How could you not like Remus? He carts you around the city with his friends -- your friends too, he insists -- going ice skating and drinking mulled cider and market shopping and every time you are struck by how lovely he is. He holds your hand a lot and sends you photos he manages to take of you without you noticing. You meet the rest of the group -- Lily and Marlene and Dorcus -- and you love them, too. You see lights all over the city and laugh a lot and smile so much your cheeks ache. His friends tease you and you end up in multiple group chats and things start to feel good. Even when you go back to your apartment alone, you feel warm. You are just excited for whatever you're going to do next.

And then it's New Year's Eve.

The pub you've become a regular at is having a party and Lily was timely enough to book your regular table for the whole crew. You're running a little late because you could not decide what to wear, but you make it, shoving yourself through the crowd to the back booth.

Someone -- you're not sure who -- spots you and screams your name. You recognize a lot of the people here, but it's not until James enters your field of vision that you relax.

"There she is!" he cries, looking over his shoulder. "Remus, she's here!" Remus emerges from the crowd and scoops you up, pressing his lips to your cheek in a quick hello as he grabs your coat and pulls you in for a hug. He's warm and smells like beer and something spicy.

"You look lovely," he says. He's had at least one drink judging by the color of his cheeks and his general handsy-ness.

"So do you," you say. He wrinkles his nose at you.

"Go sit in my seat and I'll get you a drink. The usual?" You nod. He gently pushes you towards the table and disappears into the crowd. You slide into a space Remus has clearly vacated next to Sirius. He's got some sparkles on his lower lids and an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth as he shuffles a deck of cards. Everyone at the table is flushed and ready.

"Hey, you," he says. "You in?" You've no idea what they're playing.

"Next round, Sirius." He shrugs and you watch something that looks like Hearts happen in front of you.

Remus returns before the round wraps up and you stand to give him his seat. He looks at it and then at you and then back at the bench before he slides in, setting your pints on the table before wrapping his long, slender fingers around your wrist and tugging just enough so that you stumble towards him and end up in his lap. Everyone at the table is fighting smiles and Sirius wraps up the round and turns to you both. He puts the cigarette behind his ear and manages to look extremely bored with your antics.

"Now are you playing?" You nod, breathless. Remus's arm wraps around your back, hand settling on your hip so that you won't fall off of him.

A hand moves your hair off of your shoulder and you feel lips on your earlobe. "What are we playing?" You turn and all of a sudden Remus's face is incredibly close to yours. He does not move away.

"No idea," you say, forgetting that you do know what you're playing. Your brain is a little fuzzy right now. Which is probably why you lose horribly, Remus laughing underneath you as you desperately try to shove aside thoughts of kissing him so you can focus for just one second.

And then it's almost midnight. The energy in the pub changes to something a bit more exuberant and someone passes out champagne in classes of all kinds. You end up holding a whiskey tumblr of fizz and the booth around you empties as everyone gets to their feet, ready to chant in the new year. Remus maneuvers you gently so that you're no longer totally in his lap, just next to him with your legs across it. His arm is a warm band around your shoulders to keep you close. The pub increases in volume as people start to sing.

"Have you got anyone to kiss at midnight?" he yells into your ear, lips brushing your skin again.

You pull back to look at him. He's flushed, but his eyes are clear. "I think so," you say. His eyes crinkle at the corners and he sets down his own glass and grabs your jaw. His thumb rubs over your lower lip.

"Lucky bloke," he says. The countdown chanting starts around you. You cup his jaw for the first time and run a gentle finger along one of the scars on his jaw. He shudders.

You can't wait a second more so you lean in, pressing your lips to his. He gasps just a little bit before responding, tongue tracing the seam of your mouth. His fingertips dig into your party dress and you kiss him and kiss him and kiss him and everyone is cheering and you think some of it might be for you two.

You have a feeling that this year isn't going to be so bad.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!

[paingoes]

Rubies

Waiting Room

hello! so i actually wrote this a while back but couldn’t think of a right time to post it. this takes place on the same day as First Base, but it’s a different POV!

(Content: living weapon whumpee, discussions of war and child soldiers, implied child abuse, dehumanization)

“I’ve got it,” Kitty made a little circle with her fingers. O.K. They were escorted away before Apollo could respond.

“Okay. I’m gonna go…beg for his life, I guess,” Apollo said into the empty space she’d just been standing in.

“I’ll go with you,” Iza piped up. At least she didn’t leave him hanging. Apollo was surprised by her eagerness, but he knew it was the correct move on her part. It’d be better to seek Levon out than the other way around. He would not react well if he felt he’d had to catch them.

For better or worse, it did not take long for their paths to intersect. Levon was already out in the hall. One woman from the counsel hung by his side. They spoke in low tones. She was one of the few people on base that matched Levon in age and in history. She shot the two of them a dirty look as they approached.

“Oh, speak of the devil.” Levon lifted his hands up in greeting, a sardonic smile appearing upon his face. He couldn’t hold it any longer then a second. His expression quickly fell back into its fatigue state. Not exactly angry, but clearly not pleased. The woman slipped off into the shadows, patting him lightly on the back before she departed. 

“It’s my fault,” Apollo put himself between Levon and Iza. “I take full responsibility.”

“Not how it works, kiddo. Chain of command.” Levon looked straight past him.

Iza did not say anything in her own defense. Levon shot her a curious look. It had meant something that she’d come to find him and that she had not come to argue the point. It was a good start. They could talk later. They would.

But Apollo clearly needed a wall to throw himself against. Levon started to move down the hall again. He wasn’t totally shutting him out, but he had better make his point quick. He’d had it so rehearsed before, but the words sounded hurried this time, more uncertain than ever. 

“Captain, it’s not his fault. You understand that. He didn’t have a choice. It’s not fair to punish him for what Empire did. You can’t hold that against him. You won’t, right? What we did, it has nothing to do with him. He didn’t know. He still doesn’t know. He just woke up. He-“

Levon held up a hand, “I thought you had a powerpoint.”

“I do,” Apollo admitted, “I can go get it if you give me five minutes.”

“That’s alright.”

“Captain!” Apollo hissed. They’d already arrived just outside of the ward. 

“Please don’t hurt him.”

It was such an earnest and simple request that Levon’s resolve momentarily cracked.

“Take it easy. Whatever I decide, I’m not going to do it right now. Save your breath.”

“He’s scared, Levon.”

“Has it ever occurred to you that you’re not the only person in the world who knows right from wrong? That I might actually know what I’m doing?”

Apollo shut up. Iza put a hand on his shoulder, both to steady him and to pull him back. Levon signaled to the medical staff to clear out just before he stepped into Delta’s room.

==========

Levon stepped back out into the lobby, shutting the door quickly behind him. There was a deep unhappiness in his features.

Apollo’s face was marred with concern. It had been for as long as he had waited there. But as he caught sight of Levon’s haunted expression, it slipped into a barely suppressed smugness. I told you so.

In the same way, Levon’s horror flickered briefly into exasperation as the two made eye contact.

“You didn’t say he was a baby,” Levon insisted. He realized instantly that the effect would be lost on Apollo. Levon often felt that he was surrounded by children. He maintained his own inner circle, each of them tending to their own sector, but all the rank and file skewed young. Apollo was no exception to this, hardly tipping twenty four, but then Apollo’s career had just begun. Delta’s star had been burning ever since he was a child.

Levon forgot any thoughts of penalty. He couldn’t reasonably hold him accountable for things he had done as a child. Delta was a ward of Empire. It was their fault. 

Apollo searched Levon’s expression, still seeming a bit too satisfied with himself.

“You’re not off the hook,” Levon told him.

“I know, Captain,” he said mildly, “Is he?”

Levon leaned against the wall. He palmed at his forehead in hopes of relieving the tension building up there.

“I don’t understand the child soldier thing. I’ve never understood it. Why? Is there that much of a shortage that they can’t fish from the adult pool anymore? What purpose does it serve?” Levon didn’t hide his disgust. Empire already recruited teenagers as a matter of policy, but there had been more and more reports of them dipping even lower. He’d gotten reports of combatants as fresh as twelve stumbling blindly into enemy territory. They’d be found limping and with blisters from where their oversized boots had rubbed them raw. They had to be carried out.

Iza spoke up. Levon was surprised to hear her speak. She’d been hanging back, trying to make herself unseen, as if he might bite her. 

“Kids have more raw psychic talent than adults. They lose it as they get older. It’s rare

you find someone who’s been trained enough to carry their abilities into adulthood. You need to start them young,” she mused.

The clarity with which she spoke of it was incriminating.

“Tell me the truth,” Levon said, “Did you know?”

“We suspected,” Apollo admitted, “Strongly.”

“And what? You wanted it for yourself?” 

“No.“ Apollo’s voice got all pitchy, the way it did when he was upset. “How can you even think that?”

“You?” Levon ignored his indignation, turning his gaze to Iza.

“Me?” Iza asked. She let some softness creep into her voice, “I didn’t want anything. I thought it would be a good experiment. I thought you might get something out of it. But I knew you’d never want to use it, not the way they did. I know you.”

Levon relaxed in a way that was barely observable. He took a deep breath.

“You are very, very lucky this didn’t go worse. Do I even have to tell you all the nightmare scenarios that could have unfolded instead? If you had gotten caught? If he had detonated? The standard response for this kind of insubordination is automatic and permanent dismissal. Were you aware of that?”

Neither of them answered. It was a wise thing to do.

“However.” Levon continued. “Things are about to get very, very bad for us. Early reports say the civil war is over. The prince’s staff sold him out. Nezu is preparing to be coronated and he now runs unopposed. We will not have the advantage of a divided Empire anymore. All the heat is going to be on us. For that reason, I’m disinclined to let you go entirely.”

Again, neither of them spoke. Apollo put all his energy into keeping his face neutral.

“…Thank you.” Iza’s voice was low. 

“Don’t,” Levon denied the moment, “I haven’t decided what I’m doing with you yet. All I’m saying is you’re not kicked out. What I do might be worse. You — you are going to go apologize to him for putting him in this situation.”

“I will!” Apollo answered quickly, “I mean, I did. But I’ll do it again. He’s okay, right? You’re not gonna do anything to him?”

“He’s fine,” Levon waved his hand, “Don’t worry about it.”

Apollo looked as though he might collapse on the spot. All the tension that had been holding him up was not depleted. He was relieved, but more than that, he was exhausted. Stress was going to take all of them out before Empire ever could.

…………

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @pigeonwhumps

[captain-mj]

I don't know if anyone has asked yet, but I'd love a part 2 of the horangi/konig mafia AU.

I absolutely adore the characterisation and I am starving for Horangi finding out who Konig actually is!

This was a bit longer than I was expecting but here ya go (smut at the end)

Part 1

König brought Horangi slightly better food after his bath, smiling at him. He watched Horangi start to eat for a few minutes. Horangi looked up at him and swallowed. “You okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine. Are you feeling better?”

“Much. It felt nice. Feels nice being clean.” 

König nodded and smiled at him. “Rest now, ja?”

Horangi nodded before admitting. “Still exhausted from those pills.” He was visibly leaning over and as soon as König took the bowl, he slumped back into the bed. “Done nothing but sleep since I got here.”

“You’re injured. It does that.” König pressed his hand to Horangi’s forehead, making sure there was no fever. The paranoia that Horangi might develop an infection was still high, but he seemed to be doing well. He gently helped Horangi to lay back down and put his blanket over him. Horangi’s eyes had started to glaze over and he was light enough that König could move him around. 

König left him to sleep and stretched. He then rolled his shoulders before pulling his hood back on. 

The person who bought Horangi, his dad’s previous right hand man, had the decency to at least look sheepish when he saw him. 

“In my defense, I thought he’d be good for you!”

“I do not need… whatever he is.” 

“He’s whatever you want him to be. He has no family. Came to this country after being kicked out of his last one. No friends, just gambling debt. An easy mark.”

König sighed and shook his head. “Declan, while I appreciate you looking out for me, I am just fine.”

“Leon. You’re socially anxious and useless when talking to people on your own. Whether you want him as a translator, boytoy, bodyguard, friend, I don’t care. I just thought he’d do you some good.”

“...Bodyguard huh?” König had been considering it. He liked Horangi honestly. Very cute. Small. Even with the new scarring, he was handsome. Once it healed, König had no doubts he’d be stunning. What little conversation they had managed to have proved he was intelligent. Spoke enough German to know what König meant, even if he clearly wasn’t fluent. He’d be a good bodyguard, even if that wasn’t something König really needed. It meant they’d be close and if he didn’t want to deal with a social situation, his bodyguard could do it. 

“I’ll wait until he’s recovered.” 

Declan nodded. “Glad you’re seeing my side. I just want what’s best for you, kid.” 

König wrinkled his nose, but didn’t point out that he was 24 and Declan was only in his earlier thirties. Not the closest, but close enough for it to not make sense for Declan to try acting like his dad. 

Plus, König’s dad was dead and he wasn’t looking for a replacement. He didn’t particularly like the one he had. The man started a criminal empire and then died during a crucial part of it. And now he was stuck dealing with this. 

König sighed. “Alright, Declan.” He dealt with his normal duties, still constantly thinking of Horangi. This was going to be complicated. 

It was the fourth day now and, after making sure his hood wasn’t on, König was bringing Horangi more food. He asked the chef to make him something special for him. They provided a soup made mostly of chicken and ginseng. It smelled fragrant. König would have to try it. Probably would taste good. 

Horangi looked excited when he handed it to him. He clearly recognized it and immediately started eating. His face looked a bit red and König reached out, gently placing his fingers to his face. Warm, but not feverish. He’d keep an eye on it, but he was sure it would be fine. 

Horangi sipped the soup and glanced up at him. “How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“Most Korean parents make this for sick children. We’re in Austria. You’re clearly Austrian.”

König shrugged. “Just asked them to make something you like.”

“You’re not the one cooking?” Horangi tilted his head and König wondered if he had any idea who he was. He sat on the bed next to him and watched him curiously. 

König realized he hadn’t responded and winced. “No. I’m not. I’m just… your caretaker.” 

“Ah. Do you know who I’ll be working for?”

“KorTac.” 

Horangi paused and looked up at him. He didn’t give much of a reaction besides that. Not even a flicker of emotion for König to interpret. “Ah. I owe them money.”

“Your debt has been cleared.”

“What could I possibly do that’s so useful they’d be willing to do this?” 

König stared at him. 

Horangi frowned. “You have to know something right?”

König must’ve reacted because Horangi was leaning forward. “Look, if they don’t give the job to me, that’s fine. But please, tell me what my job is if they give it to me.” He grabbed König’s hands. So confident. Tiger was fitting for him. 

König grabbed his hand back, comparing them. They both had calluses on their trigger finger from guns. Little cuts from handling knives. Horangi had a line across one of his fingers like it had been purposefully cut. König had a line across his palm and little pale lines across his fingers from rings. 

“The boss’s bodyguard.”

Horangi moved closer. “Why would he need a bodyguard?”

“He doesn’t. You’re just for show.” König pulled away from him and stood up. “Finish eating. You should be focused on your recovery.”

Horangi frowned and stared up at him. “Who’s your boss?”

König smiled brightly. “He’s nice. Don’t worry. Again, nothing for you to worry about.”

Horangi did not look sure but he clearly decided to accept it for now, not like he had much of a choice. He finished eating and let König rebandage him. König examined him, making sure everything looked okay. 

“You’re healing well, Horangi.”

Horangi nodded slightly and rolled his shoulder. He winced. “Still hurts but not as bad.” 

König nodded and lightly pressed his fingers to them. His fingers were cold against the cuts but Horangi didn’t move away. 

“Yes. Healing very well.” He patted Horangi’s hip, completely missing how red that made his face. “I’ll find some shirts you can wear.”

Horangi nodded. “Not many people have seen me like this. Don’t tell anyone, yeah?” He looked up at him, mostly undressed with his hair rumpled. The only real covering a pair of boxers a size too big and bandages. 

“I’d never tell a soul.”

König was pulled away on the fifth day and the sixth. He supposed he shouldn’t have expected to get to spend an entire week doting on his new toy. Even if Horangi was without a doubt the most fun thing he had had for a while. 

König kept his hood on. It was the easiest way to make himself not anxious as he talked with Horangi again. 

Someone else had been feeding him and he wondered briefly if someone else had bathed him. He hadn’t told them to, but he hadn’t told them not to. Horangi could probably do it on his own, König only did it that day because he was a little too drugged up. No better fucking have. The thought made König’s stomach churn. 

He had someone else bring Horangi to him. He tried to look intimidating or at least mafia boss like. Something better than what he felt like he was. 

Horangi knew immediately. The height gave it away and he blushed. He shrank down a bit, swallowing. “Ah…”

“I’ve decided you will be my bodyguard.”

“Yes, sir.” 

Sir?

König wasn’t sure if he liked that. He wasn’t sure if he liked that at all. “Horangi. No need to be like that. We’re friends, ja?”

Horangi nodded a little, looking more nervous than he had been when he was first at König’s mercy. 

“No need for formalities.” König didn’t understand where this nervousness was coming from. Nor did he understand where his own confidence did. It felt unnatural. 

“Why didn’t you wear the hood around me?”

“Did I need to?”

Horangi didn’t seem to understand the question, but he nodded nonetheless. “So, I really am just for show. Arm candy?”

“Something like that.” This was better. Horangi got over whatever stumble he had there and went back to his cool, confident self. König liked it. Good quality to have. “First job is tonight. Meeting at a casino. You’re not going to be playing any games, understood?”

Horangi nodded. “Can I have a mask too?”

“Yeah. Sure.” König smiled. This was going so well. 

Horangi was currently trying to fix this person, this tall and cruel looking person, with the shy caretaker he had. They were clearly the same person. The eyes gave it away and the height confirmed it. With the hood on, he looked different in a way that was hard to put into words. His posture more tense and his body held with a poise that normal König didn’t have.

König. 

Name made sense now. 

He got his mask and quickly covered up. The scarring was hideous. Still fresh. He was not looking forward to the period of time where they’d harden and turn red, but hopefully they’d fade to white soon. Maybe he’d get lucky and they wouldn’t actually scar, just heal. He doubted it with how deep they had been cut into his skin, but would could hope. 

Horangi still didn’t get why he was chosen for a bodyguard. Besides a little street fighting in Korea to make extra cash or defending himself, he didn’t actually know that much about fighting. He had considered joining the military but hadn’t at the last minute. And again, König clearly didn’t need him. There was something else here. Some purpose he served that he just wasn’t getting. 

Regardless, he accompanied König, feeling a little funny standing next to him now. Before, despite his height and build and how attractive he was, he was just a guy. Random employee. It felt different now. He shouldn’t just be standing next to him. 

It didn’t help that König was wearing a suit. It looked stunning on him and Horangi knew he’d need to get sunglasses so he could stare next time. 

König was not very good at cards. It translated to him making virtually no bets and barely paying attention to anything he did. Horangi tried not to correct him whenever he made a mistake. He was talking to someone in German and, seeing as he only knew what German he did from Duolingo, he couldn't really keep up. 

Horangi tapped König’s shoulder and made a sign that he was going to step away. He needed both a drink and to use the bathroom. 

A different man appeared as he was washing his hands. Horangi looked up at him, glad he had the mask on. Neither talked as they washed their hands. 

He said something in German and Horangi had to stare blankly before he tried English. “You here alone?”

“No.” 

“Ah, partner?”

“Nope. Boss.”

The man nodded and dried his hands. “Will business keep you busy all night?”

“Yes.” Horangi left. He followed. It made him a little irritated. “Listen, buddy. I appreciate the interest, but I can’t.” 

“Who’s your boss? I’m a pretty important person around here. I’m sure he’ll understand.” 

“I don’t want your attention.” Horangi said rather firmly. 

His face changed before he grabbed Horangi’s shirt collar. “Listen up, you little…” He paused and looked up. “Ah. Leon.” 

König growled. “Arthur.”

“Didn’t realize he was with you. My apologies. Though, if I’m allowed to borrow him…”

“You’re not allowed. Nor are you allowed to be touching him.” 

Arthur’s hands dropped. “No hard feelings right? He’s pretty and new. You know I like to touch other people’s things.” 

König stepped around Horangi rather politely before slamming his fist into him. Horangi expected that to be it but they were on the floor before he knew it. He just kept hitting him. Blood start to stain the ground and Horangi looked around, expecting panic or someone to grab him. Everyone just watched. Some of them looked almost amused, like König did this often. Maybe it did. Horangi put his hands on König to pull him away but as soon as he did, König stopped and got up. He yanked Horangi along. 

Horangi sat in the car, trying to process what he just saw. König’s hands were still bloody and it had gotten on his hood. There was an overbearing silence. It wasn’t the violence that caught him off guard. It hadn’t been the worst thing he had seen. More the suddenness. There hadn’t really been a reason why.

His hands flexed and Horangi’s attention narrowed down to that point and only that point. He had a hard time breathing. 

Horangi glanced at König and saw him staring back. The hood kept him from seeing anything but his eyes. Gorgeous blue that stared into him almost accusatory. A warmth twirled around his guts but he tried to ignore it. 

“I would’ve gotten the guy. You didn’t have to defend me.” Horangi hissed, deciding to beat König to the punch on being angry. 

König just continued to stare at him. 

“It’s my job to protect you.” Horangi insisted. 

König sighed. “Hong-jin.” 

Hearing his actual name was like getting punched in the gut. He didn’t even know how König would know it. 

“This is affecting you.” 

“I watched you beat a man to death. Yeah, it’s gong to rattle me.”

König tilted his head. “No. That’s not what I mean. Your pupils dilated and you’re breathing faster. If I told you to spread your legs, I have a funny feeling there’s even more signs of how turned on you are.” 

Horangi stared at him, trying to ignore that he was in fact hard. He bit his bottom lip, glad that his mask covered it up for him. Where had all of this confidence come from? Where was the anxiety riddled medic he had been dealing with?

Who the fuck was he?

König sighed softly. “Horangi. I’d never force you to do anything.”

Horangi’s breath got faster at the gentle tone and the words. 

“Do you want this?”

“Yes, sir.” Horangi answered a little too fast. 

König clicked a button and the privacy screen came down to cover the partition. It meant the chauffeur wouldn’t be able to see whatever happened. 

Horangi swallowed and wondered if he could tell König what he wanted and didn’t want. Should he tell him now? Would König care? 

The man himself had moved closer while he had been distracted. He cupped his face gently and then pulled off Horangi’s mask. König traced the little tally marks with a weird amount of reverence. He followed along Horangi’s lips next and he felt like he was going to shake out of his skin. 

Then, König moved to his throat, gently running his fingers along the column of it. His hand circled his throat and Horangi felt… small. König’s hands were rather big compared to him and he tried not to think about that too much, but they were huge. His other hand started to undo the buttons on his clothes to expose more skin to him.  

Horangi let out an embarrassingly soft noise. He couldn’t help it. König smiled at him and Horangi pushed his mask down and his hood up just enough to kiss him. They laid against the seats and König bit Horangi’s lip hard. 

His hands finally got Horangi’s clothes off and they ran down his sides, making him have goosebumps. His legs were pulled open and then König was finally touching him. He was so gentle as he stroked him but it felt… a little calculated.

Horangi didn’t care though, thrusting up into his hands and letting himself stay pinned. König twisted his hand slightly whenever he got close to the tip and he seemed to get a lot of enjoyment over watching Horangi get worked up. 

Horangi panted softly, trying his best to stay quiet as he realized that just because the driver couldn’t see them, it didn’t mean he couldn’t hear him. His toes curled and his back arched right as he ca- 

König paused his movements and pinned Horangi’s hips so he couldn’t thrust up. 

“What are you doing?? I was close.” Horangi wiggled as he tried to finish but he could barely move.

König waited a minute before spitting on his fingers. He gently pushed them into Horangi again. “There ya go, kitten.” 

Horangi groaned and spread his legs more. He managed to hike one of his knees onto König’s shoulder to give him a better grip on him. Once again, he felt himself getting close but König kept messing it up. He’d pause or slow down or pull away and Horangi had to fight himself to stay still during the prep. 

König stopped touching his cock all together, focusing on getting him stretched instead. Horangi groaned and panted softly. He was right there. Right on the fucking edge but it wasn’t quite enough. 

König pressed into his prostate and Horangi saw stars. The world blurred around the edges and he felt König pull away and the sound of a cap. He slammed into him, holding him down so Horangi could do nothing but take it. 

König was so rough. Horangi’s nails raked down his back. Pleasure sparked up his body and he arched, desperately pressing to König’s clothed chest. The feeling of his suit against his skin and pressed against his cock. 

“You want to finish don’t you?” König purred into his ear and Horangi nodded frantically. “Swear yourself to me.”

“What?” Horangi was right there. One touch and he’d finish. His arms were pinned so he couldn’t do it himself. 

“Swear to me that you’ll be mine. Forever.” 

Horangi started to tear up, unable to take anymore without finishing. His entire stomach was in knots and he couldn’t take anymore. “Please. Please.”

“Swear.” 

“I’m yours. Yours. Please, please, please.” 

König grabbed him and stroked him in time with his movements. 

White filled his vision and he relaxed before starting to squirm as overstimulation set in. König didn’t even pause, just continuing to fuck into him like a doll. 

Horangi gasped and tried to turn away. König flipped them around and pressed right back into him. He fucked him hard but the new angle let him go even deeper. It felt like he was being rearranged and broken in, made just for König now. Horangi gripped the seats and tried to focus on breathing as he felt himself start to get hard again. Tears streamed down his face from how good it felt. 

They were a perfect fit. König stretched him out perfectly and judging by how fucked out he already sounded, König agreed with him. It felt so good, pleasure clouding his thoughts. 

Horangi started to get close and he clawed at König’s arm that was around his chest. He was yanked up and one of his legs were shoved to his chest, König still taking him from behind. His nails dug deeper into his skin when he came again. He let out a sob as König’s hips stuttered but went right back to moving. 

“Fuck, I can’t… I don’t think…”

“I wasn’t asking. Either take it or tell me stop.” König growled at him. 

Horangi didn’t ask him to stop. His legs were trembling as König continued to fuck into him. It was a few minutes later when König came in his fucked out body. He went to touch him to finish him off but Horangi shook his head. He dropped Horangi back onto the cushions. 

Horangi trembled, gasping a little. Tears were still streaming down his face when König lifted his hood to kiss him. König redressed him and scooped him up. 

“Let me take you inside.” 

Horangi nodded and winced. “You don’t think they heard me did they?”

König also winced. “Uh…”

Horangi hid his face in the cushion, so embarrassed. “Oh no…”

[notveryimpressed]

Part 1

Supervillain's mind began to race with a mix of anger and confusion. How dare that superhero attempt to flirt with their scientist? They were their scientist, and nobody else's! The supervillain's jealousy and possessiveness surged through them like an electric current.

With a sinister smile, the supervillain decided to play along, biding their time until the right moment to strike. "Ah, my dear scientist," the supervillain purred, stepping closer to them and resting a gloved hand on their shoulder. "I must say, your grace and poise never fail to impress. But it seems we have an uninvited guest in our little dance."

The scientist, unsure of the underlying tension in the room, glanced at the embarrassed superhero who was walking away with a perplexed expression. "Oh, uh, I didn't realize they were trying to flirt," the scientist replied innocently. "But let's not allow any distractions on this crucial day, shall we?"

"Of course," the supervillain said, their smile never wavering, though their eyes glinted with malice. "No distractions will be allowed. In fact, I have a proposal for you, my dear scientist. How about after this meeting, you join me for a private celebration? I'd love to discuss some new inventions I have in mind."

The scientist hesitated for a moment, feeling a mix of excitement and unease. The supervillain had always been alluring and charismatic, but they were also well aware of the evil deeds committed by this enchanting figure. Nevertheless, the scientist agreed, "Alright, I'd be interested in hearing about your new inventions."

As the Council of the Supers continued its proceedings, the supervillain's mind raced with the sinister plans they had in store for the council members. But they also couldn't ignore the feelings they had developed for their brilliant scientist.

The supervillain and the scientist found themselves alone in the sunlit conference room. The supervillain's smooth façade slowly crumbled, revealing vulnerability beneath their villainous exterior. "Listen," they began, looking away for a moment before locking eyes with the scientist, "I know I've been harsh with you, pushing you to create weapons and devices for my villainous schemes. But there's something else I want now, something more than power or destruction."

The scientist watched with curiosity and concern as the supervillain opened up, revealing a side they had never seen before. "What is it that you want?" the scientist asked, their defenses softened.

"I want you," the supervillain admitted, their voice barely above a whisper. "I want you to stay with me, by my side. I want to protect you and make you happy. And in return, I promise to change, to be better, for you."

Caught off guard by this unexpected confession, the scientist's heart skipped a beat. They had never imagined that their arch-nemesis, the supervillain, could harbor such complex emotions. Despite the darkness surrounding them, the scientist could see a glimmer of hope in the supervillain's eyes.

"I don't know if I can trust you," the scientist replied honestly. "

The supervillain nodded, understanding the scientist's hesitance. "I know I don't deserve your trust just yet, but I'm willing to prove myself. Let me show you a different side of me, a side that cares for you deeply," Supervillain inhaled deeply and before scientist could reply, they told, " Also, I need your help in chopping off a few heads."

[delta-pavonis]

July Kinkfest Day 6: Drummer/Dancer AU edition!

The Sandman || Dreamling (Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling) || Rated E || 1062 words

Prompts: Praise Kink | Bruises | “Anyone could walk by and see what a little slut you’re being right now.” 

Warnings (in addition to the prompts above): sexual harassment, possessive Hob, semi-public sex, marking/biting kink

Author's Notes: It was more difficult to get all three prompts in here than I thought it would be. And the last one is paraphrased (hence not bolded, but also not crossed out). And, yes I am over 1000 words, BUT it gets you sassy Desire+Hob banter at the end, so I had to do it.

"You needn’t have come to my defense." Morpheus sighs, gathering the components for the healing spell for Hob. Two stunning black eyes have already bloomed on his lover’s face as a result of his need to be Morpheus’ savior, he doesn’t need to suffer any longer than necessary. “It happens quite often.” He murmurs the incantation while holding the components, then presses his fingers to Hob’s face just as the other man is opening his mouth to reply. “And no, of course that doesn’t mean it should happen at all, but the fact of the matter is that it does and I no longer think much of it. And neither should you.”

They had met another caravan just at the edges of the Southern Wastes and so, as tradition dictated, they made camp and made for revelry. The other group had been primarily sellswords, with the temperament and manners to match every possible stereotype therein. So, well into their cups, a few of them had started making lewd comments, heckling Morpheus and the others as they danced. And Hob had held steady, continuing his drumming through it. But then one particularly brash idiot had smacked Morpheus' ass as he passed by and… well. Hob is apparently willing to use his hands to back up the possessive he uses when calling Morpheus his Dream.

Morpheus would never admit out loud that Hob's response thrills him, makes him feel justified in his disgust at the sellswords' behaviors and makes him feel like he is something worth defending. 

“I refuse to let people think that they can get away with treating others like that, whether it is you or not.” Hob’s voice is becoming less nasal by the second as the broken bones and cartilage reset themselves. “It was just worse that it was you.”

Hob is giving Morpheus a look that he can't interpret. "What?" He finishes putting away the odds and ends of the spell and turns to his lover. "You want congratulations?" Morpheus pitches his voice up a register. "Oh, thank you, Robert Gadling, my hero." He puts the back of his hand to his forehead and swoons into Hob's lap, which gets the slightest hint of a smile, the crows' feet at the corners of Hob's eyes just beginning to appear. This only encourages the bard. "Thank the Nine you were here or whatever would I have done? I am so helpless and vulnerable!" He bats his eyelashes at Hob and that does it, the drummer cracks, a rolling laugh bubbling up.

Hob's arms wrap around his Dream's waist and he pulls him into a kiss. "Alright, alright. I get it. Point made. You aren't some pampered damsel." He tugs on Morpheus' hips until he is straddling Hob's lap on the medic’s exam table. 

"Hob. We are in a public space." Morpheus knows that his words contrast strongly with how he arches into Hob's mouth on his collarbones. "Hob!"

"You taste so good. All for me." Hob murmurs into his skin, seemingly ignoring Morpheus' protest. The bard's hands are in Hob's braided hair and he is rolling their hips together. "So good for me, my Dream." The breathy words curl around Morpheus' neck and he can't stop the whine that slides out through his clenched teeth. He desperately wants to be good for Hob. "Yeah, I know you like that. Just a few words and the right touches and you go all perfectly pliant in my hands. Yeah, that's my good, sweet Dream."

Oh. Oh fuck. Hob has found these weak points in Morpheus’ armor and has zero compunction about using them to his advantage. His hips, his whole body really, rocks into Hob, who grabs his ass in both hands, digs his fingers in, and pulls Morpheus’ cheeks apart through his clothing. Morpheus arches, holding on to Hob’s head, pressing his nose into his sternum, as he ruts against Hob’s chest and lets out a little choked off cry. 

“By the gods, listen to you sing. Choirs of astrals don’t sound so sweet.” Morpheus gasps as Hob just continues, sucking and biting marks into his neck in between sentences. “Nor do they sound so wanton. But you cannot resist, can you?” Morpheus trembles as he shakes his head. No, he has found he cannot resist Hob, cannot stop his body and mind from swaying towards him like a flower to the sun, from listing into each touch like he is starved for it. “Anyone could walk into this tent at any moment and you just want to bounce on my cock like the pretty little whore that you are…”

“Yes!” Morpheus moans and then Hob is lifting him, flipping him, pressing his face down into the table and tugging his pants down his thighs. 

He hears the soft pop of a cork and then slick sounds – Hob’s hand on his own dick, and then ohfuckyes Hob’s oiled hand is on Morpheus’ prick and he muffles his groan by biting his fist. “I keep oil in my pocket now, because of you, my sweet slut, my Dream. Never know when I am going to have to-” Hob thrusts into Morpheus with a grunt “-fill your needy hole.”

This must be what going insane feels like, Morpheus is sure. They fuck fierce and fast and he knows nothing but pleasure and the sound of Hob’s voice behind his ear, whispering filth the entire time. 

When Hob comes he buries himself so deep Morpheus swears he feels it punching a hole in his lungs, rearranging things in the back of his throat. 

"Mark me. Please." He hears himself beg, voice reedy and he is so so close. So close that as soon as Hob's teeth find the meat of his shoulder Morpheus climaxes, head snapping back in a silent scream, body tightening so violently that Hob's seed gushes down his thighs. 

They collapse, panting.

The quiet lasts only a moment and then Epithumia's voice rings from outside the tent. "While we all appreciate Hob's prowess in dicking down our eldest brother, my siblings and I would like to request you restrict your satyric ferret escapades to inside structures with walls made of materials more substantial than canvas."

Hob chuckles, still a little breathless. "Way to be a wet blanket, Epi."

"You've done enough blanket wetting for the both of us, drummer boy..." is the last thing they hear before footsteps fading away.

[television-overload]

'sh-boom' (an X-Files fanfic)

Like usual, I caved and instead of leaving my "someone should write this" post be, I wrote it myself. I'll tag some people that expressed interest in this prompt below the fic! Shout out to @baronessblixen who already wrote the perfect Scully-accidentally-kisses-Mulder fic. You can read that here!

Now, for Mulder accidentally kissing Scully cause he dreams about her all the time.... takes place February 1998, mid-Season 5.

Read on Ao3

There’s a trick to fighting insomnia, Mulder had discovered. Not a cure, by any means, but an improvement, nonetheless. All you need is a super off-limits best friend you’ve fallen stupidly in love with, spend practically every waking hour of the day with her, and then spend the rest of your time thinking about her until your exhausted and delusional mind has mercy on you and blesses you with her presence in your unconscious state.

A foolproof plan, really. Scully had even noticed he seemed more well-rested and happier in the last few weeks, so something had to be working.

Although, there were—he had to admit—a few rather notable side effects.

Despite what others might tell you, Fox Mulder was not one to have trouble distinguishing between fiction and reality. Usually. But in his defense, his dreams were very, very vivid, and there had been a time or two that he’d referred to something Scully had said, only to realize at her blank stare that it was the figment of her in his imagination who’d said it.

“Must have been someone else I was talking to,” he’d awkwardly say, thankful that she kept her mouth shut about the fact that there was no one else he’d have such conversations with, and they both knew it.

He’d also been on the receiving end of more than a few raised eyebrows and patented “what is wrong with you?” looks, which were well-deserved for catching him staring even more than typical. Sure, he was sleeping better at night, but his brain was now trained to find restfulness when thinking about Scully, which was pretty much an all-day thing too. Sitting across from her in their isolated little office for extended periods of time made his eyes glaze over and eyelids droop halfway shut. Oh, the horror… he probably looked like a drunk idiot. He hoped he at least looked somewhat normal, not like a drooling dope with a dumb smile on his face who was clearly not having a productive day at work.

What would old doctor Pavlov have to say about this sorry scenario?

His consolation was that Scully already knew he was weird, and stuck around anyway, so he had no qualms against going home night after night and picking up where he’d left off in Scullyland the night before. Let’s see, he was just about to their son’s first little league baseball game, of which Mulder was the coach, of course. “Scully, don’t forget, we signed up to bring snacks for the team after the game.”

Behind closed eyes he saw her raise her arm to show him the already packed bag she was holding, an exasperated but loving look in her eye. “Always one step ahead of me,” he said fondly. With practiced ease, they danced around each other in the kitchen of a fairly unremarkable house, grabbing sunscreen, sunglasses, water bottles, keys… “Alright, sport, get in the car! Bus is leaving!” he called out, smiling as the sounds of little footfalls preceded the sight of his freckle-faced son, clad in shiny new baseball cleats.

“Got your glove?”

“Yep.”

“Your bat?”

“Yep.”

“Spitting tobacco?”

“Daaaad…”

“Mulder!”

“I’m just kidding, get in the car, will you? Coach Fox can’t be late, it’s unprofessional.”

“Wait I forgot my seeds!”

A minivan. Perfectly unremarkable. Admittedly, very comfortable, and spacious.

“Fox…” Scully mused with a shake of her head as she buckled her seatbelt.

“What? All the great baseball legends have weird nicknames. I just happen to have been born with mine.”

“The Great Bambino!” a little voice piped up from the back, glancing out the window as they ventured forth into the miles and miles of farmland.

“That’s my boy. ‘Oil Can’ Boyd. ‘Cool Papa’ James Bell. ‘Shoeless’ Joe Jackson. Did you know Lou Gehrig’s teammates called him ‘Biscuit Pants?’”

A giggle from the back seat.

“Alright you’ve made your point.” He loved it when she used that voice, the one that meant she was tired of his antics, but not really. Of course she loved his senseless rambling. She did it too sometimes, albeit with a few more hyper-specific medical terms thrown in there, leaving him unable to do anything other than smile and nod.

When they arrived, they piled out of the van, the messy brown hair of his son—already sweaty somehow, by the way—disappearing into the dugout with a gaggle of other overexcited little boys. “Good luck,” Scully spoke as she planted a kiss on Mulder’s cheek and made her way to the stands, setting up a cushion and portable fan that were sure to be the envy of all the other parents.

The field smelled like grass and dirt and the leather of brand-new baseball gloves just waiting to be broken in. It was a smell straight out of his childhood, of those summer nights on the Vineyard getting eaten up by bugs under the bright lights of the baseball fields. The crack of a ball against a wooden bat. Coming home covered in sweat and dirt and with a kid sister in tow who insisted on playing with the boys.

It was in this dream state where he found peace. Not in the past, but in some amorphous future. A future where he had a family again, a loving home. Where he wasn’t a coward and had a beautiful wife and partner who somehow made everything work. They fought monsters. They went grocery shopping. They filed paperwork with Skinner. He coached little league. They drove to work together. They picked up their son from school.

Baseballs went flying. Teams celebrated their first win. Little boys were tucked into bed, and he kissed his wife goodnight. That’s just how it was.

It was freedom. A freedom he didn’t think he’d felt since his life changed with a flash of light.

In the morning, he’d wake in a haze. With his brain on autopilot, he’d amble about his apartment, brushing his teeth, making coffee, tying on a tie… Caught somewhere in between these worlds of make-believe and reality. It was a benefit of his eidetic memory, he supposed, to be able to remember his dreams and stay in them even after coming to consciousness. Didn’t work out so great when he had constant nightmares, but hey, now that’s been solved too.

Somewhere along his drive to work was usually when reality really set in. He tried to not let it bring him down too much—it was his own fault, after all, that his life bore little resemblance to that which revealed itself in dreams. But he couldn’t help the slight pangs of disappointment he felt when he thought of the lonely couch he slept on every night and the sad state of his fridge.

“Good morning, Mulder,” Scully called out her usual greeting as she breezed into the office.

Mulder’s head lifted off the desk where it had been laying. “Mm—morning.”

Scully chuckled, setting down her bag in her chair and working to remove her heavy coat which she hung on the coat rack. His dream may have taken place in the heat of summer, but it was unmistakably the dead of winter in Washington, D.C.

“Not get enough sleep?” she asked, her amused tone not entirely disguising the genuine concern she felt for him underneath.

“I slept fine,” Mulder answered, “just… still waking up.”

Scully shook her head and let out another low chuckle, taking her seat across from him. She pulled out a file from her bag and began scanning through it, the lamp next to her providing most of the light, as the cloud-covered sky through the skylight threatened to dump a heap of snow on the city.

The day went on like that. Mulder managed to actually get some work done, finalizing some paperwork he’d been putting off (to Scully’s exaggerated shock and disbelief). She, on the other hand, was working on going over some medical reports a field office had sent over for her expert opinion, something that flattered her and made Mulder bloom with pride.

He didn’t even mind that much that they didn’t have a case to work on at the moment. That was another thing that had changed since he’d started indulging in these dreams: he could sit still for five minutes without vibrating out of his skin.

Of course, he’d never stop yearning for the truth, wondering what was out there waiting for him to discover it. But lately, he also found he enjoyed these quiet days where barely a word was spoken between them. It was comfortable. Everything unspoken didn’t need to be said aloud because it was a given—they both knew without saying everything that could possibly be said.

Lunch?

Yes.

Can you hand me a pen?

Sure.

The winter sun set early, and night was well on its way by the time Mulder looked up from his work to check the clock. Sure enough: quitting time. He stood from his desk just as Scully did, making his way over to the coat rack to grab both his and Scully’s coats. She snapped her bag shut with a click as he handed it to her before slipping his arms into his own coat sleeves.

Scully fluffed her hair out from under the collar of her coat. Mulder flicked off the lamp. She draped her bag over her shoulder. He grabbed his own briefcase and circled around his desk toward the door.

“Night, Scully,” he spoke like he did every evening, dipping down to place a quick kiss goodbye on her lips.

He froze.

Lips still touching, he swore he felt his heart stop and his fingers go numb. Somehow amid all the blaring alarm bells and internal screaming, his brain was able to send the signal back away, you idiot! to the rest of his body, and he obeyed, straightening up to look at her with what he knew she recognized as his ‘panic face.’

The only light now was coming from the streetlamps in the parking lot and the gentle snowfall reflecting it down into the office, the dim yellowish light making it difficult to tell what she was thinking. A wiser man would say something, apologize, explain it away, even leave, dang it! Get out of there! But Mulder was frozen. And apparently mute. Just perfect.

The seconds ticked by. Was that clock always so loud? That was it, he’d really gone and done it now, hadn’t he?

A smile formed across Scully’s lips, barely visible in the darkness. She blinked up at him with an oddly relaxed look in her eyes, sparkling in the faint light.

“Night, Mulder,” she replied before patting him twice on the chest above his heart and turning to leave.

It must have been a combination of her words and her touch that eventually broke him from his stupor, because he finally blinked and managed to stumble back to his office chair only to collapse into it, covering his face with his hands and letting out a muffled scream.

What an idiot. What. An. Idiot.

This was the price he had to pay for his risky little endeavor to sleep through the night. Dreaming of Scully had a cost, he should have known it was only a matter of time. He was messing with the delicate balance of things. Mulder and insomnia, insomnia and Mulder. They went hand-in-hand. Trading it in for the much more pleasant musings he had for his partner was too good to be true.

He sat there in horrified, humiliated silence for what felt like hours before finally heading home to what would inevitably be an appallingly horrible night’s sleep.

-.-.-

Mulder hadn’t slept. At all.

He laid awake most of the night staring at the ceiling and mentally berating himself over and over for blurring the lines so much that he’d briefly forgotten he and Scully weren’t actually together. He had every intent to call out of work the next day, and maybe the day after that, every day until he could come up with something to say to make things less awkward between them the next time they’d see each other, but then Skinner called.

His stomach dropped to the floor when the words “I need to ask you something,” crackled through the phone, the gruff voice of his boss sending a chill down his spine. It turned out all Skinner wanted was for Mulder and Scully to check out some reported aquatic dinosaur sightings in a lake in central Kansas, but Mulder still felt dizzy from the adrenaline the initial words had sent coursing through his system.

Against his wishes, he was dressed and in a taxi to the airport before noon, realizing too late that he hadn’t eaten anything either.

As he entered the bustling terminal, he saw Scully standing near the check-in point, dressed in her sensible heels and no-nonsense suit, her suitcase resting on the ground near her tapping foot. She checked her watch and glanced up to the departures sign before scanning the crowd. He winced as her sight settled on him, and picked up the pace.

“Jeez, Mulder, you look awful,” she said by way of greeting.

“Sorry I’m late,” he spoke, hoping to divert any conversation away from what had happened the night prior.

She wasn’t so easily dissuaded, however. “What happened to you? Are you sick?”

It seemed he would have to say something after all. He settled for, “Haven’t had anything to eat.” There. That would throw her off his scent.

Scully’s eyebrows furrowed and she grabbed the handle of her suitcase, beginning to pull it in the direction of their gate. “Well, you can have the other half of my muffin, it’s in my purse.”

He said nothing after that, choosing to follow after her like a lost puppy. They made their way through the metal detectors and had just enough time to get to their gate before they were boarding.

True to her word, just as soon as they’d reached cruising altitude, Scully extracted half a blueberry muffin from her purse and placed it on the tray table in front of Mulder, who was leaning heavily on the wall of the plane, staring blankly out the window. He mumbled his thanks and ate it in 3 clean bites, feeling only slightly guilty for inhaling his food like that in front of her.

Sensing that he wasn’t in a talkative mood, Scully posed a one-word question. “Insomnia?”

Mulder leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. “Yeah.”

“I thought it was getting better?”

“It was,” he answered, hoping she wouldn’t read into it.

Mulder sat up again, reaching for a book in his bag, but Scully’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. Gently, she pushed him back until he was resting again, forcing his head to the head rest with the soft touch of her hand over his brow.

“Sleep,” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

-.-.-

After the rocky start to the day and the awkwardness on his end throughout the flight, Mulder came to the conclusion that Scully was acting perfectly normal, so he might as well do the same. Well, she had kissed him on the cheek, but that wasn’t unheard of, was it? They’d done that before. Sure, it was rare, but she was worried about him. Aside from that, it was as if nothing had even happened, and if Mulder had been just a little more crazy, he might have believed it had all been a dream after all. It wasn’t though, and the touch of her lips on his still burned when he thought about it.

Against his better judgement, on the first night in the motel in central Kansas, he decided to employ his, now patently risky, sleep technique. It didn’t help that his subconscious supplied him with dreams of a family road trip and motels just like the one he was staying in. It took everything in his power not to say, “Wake up, buddy, time to hit the road,” to an invisible—and sadly, impossible—son in the morning. Even harder was it to suppress the words “Morning, beautiful,” from escaping his lips when he first ran into Scully in the lobby.

She seemed appeased that he had actually gotten some rest, at least, when she saw him at breakfast. The day went on without issue. Things between them were… normal. Conditions: good. Weather: frigid. Why they were investigating a potentially cold-blooded creature in the middle of February was beyond him.

He suspected this case would turn out to be yet another wild goose chase. Nothing was living in that water except maybe a very cold and very large escaped alligator from a nearby run-down zoo. Unfortunately, his recent contentment with boring, unexciting cases didn’t seem to apply here. Or at least right now.

To his relief, the local law enforcement decided to handle it themselves and even had the presence of mind to sheepishly apologize for having them come all the way out there. Flights were booked for the next day, following an almost four-hour drive back to Kansas City.

When they arrived back at the motel, Mulder fished out his room key from his pocket and inserted it into the door to unlock it. At the next door over, Scully set her briefcase on the ground before crossing the distance to him right as he turned the handle, stalling him briefly in the doorway. She stood there just long enough to reach up for a quick peck on the lips, the kiss as brief as he had done two nights before.

“Wha—” he mouthed silently, interrupted by Scully’s easy, “Goodnight, Mulder,” leaving him gaping at her in the doorway, his hand still on the doorknob, as she went off to bed.

-.-.-

It was getting harder to tell fiction from reality, and that was tough for Mulder to admit. Scully smiled at him in the morning when she climbed in the passenger seat of their rental car, and for a moment Mulder felt the gnawing feeling that they’d forgotten to put their son in the backseat despite knowing he wasn’t real. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, but that could only help so much.

Her humming half the ride home was straight out of his dreams too, a happy sound that he hadn’t heard much in the months since Christmas and Emily. She even held his hand during takeoff on the plane, not that that was uncommon, but still.

When they finally touched down in the snow blanketed capitol city, she offered to drive him home rather than have him wait for a taxi out in the cold. He gratefully accepted, unable to come up with a valid excuse not to. That was when it happened again.

Once was a mistake. Twice was a fluke. Three times on the lips, and Mulder had some questions. Namely, was he going completely crazy, or did he miss something?

As she pulled up to his building, she put the car in park and stretched across the center console to give him yet another kiss, finishing it with a smile and a, “See you tomorrow, Mulder.”

Unable to tear his eyes away from her lest she fade away like his dreams, Mulder fumbled for the door handle and pushed open the car door, stumbling his way to his feet.

“See you tomorrow,” he managed to respond, in a voice that he felt wasn’t his own.

He started his way toward the entrance to his building in a daze, screeching to a halt when he heard her call out, “Mulder!” through the opened passenger window.

He turned back, croaking out a very eloquent, “Huh?” as he searched for her face in the dark car interior.

“You forgot your bags.”

Oh.

Scully chuckled and popped the trunk for him. He rubbed his hand awkwardly over the back of his neck and trudged his way back to the car to retrieve his possessions, slamming the trunk shut when he was finished. Scully gave a wave out the window and took off into the night, and for a second night in a row, all he could do was stand there and blink in the direction she had disappeared.

-.-.-

Calling out of work would be useless, it wouldn’t help the issue at all. He was more confused than ever, but Scully seemed to be perfectly fine, so it must be his own problem. What if he’d somehow manifested his dream life into his waking one, that by some mystical force, certain elements of it were slipping through into reality? He could open an X-File. Test out his powers of manifestation—if he didn’t completely lose his grip on reality in the process.

In his dream last night, they’d celebrated her birthday, and now he couldn’t remember if they’d already done so, or if he ought to get started on planning something in real life. What day is it again? It was driving him crazy. Crazier than usual.

He would just have to talk to her. Ask her what was up with all the kissing, not that he minded. But was that actually happening? Was he imagining things? If he brought it up, would they go back to what it was like before? Would it get worse? What if he kissed her again? This time on purpose?

Every time he went to say something, his mouth opened and no sound came out. He was sure she’d notice at some point. How embarrassing. Hours ticked by, and before he knew it, it was the end of the day. An epic fail, as far as his attempt to talk to her went.

He stood from his desk with a sigh, resigned to another day of confusion tomorrow, and started toward the door with his bag and coat in tow.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” her voice called from behind him, and there she was, standing by his desk, arms crossed expectantly over her chest. That eyebrow. That darn eyebrow was doing its thing too, what does she mean by that?

“Scully?” he asked, brain tired and worn out from a tumultuous week.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” she asked again, uncrossing her arms and shifting in that way that exposed her well-masked nervousness. It was the first sign he’d seen that he wasn’t losing his mind, this really was unusual. And she knew it too.

Eyebrows furrowed, he walked toward her until he was standing right in front of her, desperately trying to read her expression as he looked down at her. Her eyes met his with determination, deliberately holding eye contact when every cell in his body screamed Danger! Run away! There was hope there, too, but Mulder didn’t want to guess what that hope might be for. This was not the moment for guessing.

She was still looking at him expectantly, though, and he couldn’t think of anything else.

Slowly, giving her plenty of time to move away or shoot him if he’d read the situation wrong, he bent toward her, placing one hand over her elbow and the other brushing lightly over the hair covering her ear. Her eyes fluttered shut and her breathing hitched, and there! She was leaning forward too! Not quite standing on tiptoes, but stretching to meet him, nonetheless.

Taking this as a good sign, he closed the rest of the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers, holding them there for one, two, three, four, five seconds before pulling back and letting his arms drop to his sides. His eyes remained tightly shut, afraid to open them and see the disgust or annoyance that would surely greet him.

He swallowed past a lump in his throat, his face pinched in concern, but he dared not move. After a moment, he felt two hands cup his cheeks on either side, the thumbs brushing out the lines of tension around his eyes. Something about the motion coaxed his eyes open, and what he saw wasn’t disgust or annoyance, but a content and relieved smile on the face of his partner.

He was entranced.

“Goodnight, Mulder,” she spoke softly, the same words from the other nights, but with a considerable amount of weight that hadn’t been there before. After a moment more, she began to pull away, and Mulder felt his heart stutter. Without thinking, he stopped her, grabbing her by the upper arms and pulling her to him. His eyes fell shut again as he dove toward her lips, stopping short by a few inches and pressing his forehead to hers instead.

“What is this?” he whispered, desperate to know, needing to put a name to it.

She let out a breathless laugh. “I was hoping you’d tell me.”

“Am I dreaming?”

She laughed again, and man, what he would do to hear that sound every day for the rest of his life.

“I just thought you’d decided to institute a new goodbye ritual, and went with it.”

It was Mulder’s turn to smile in amusement. He hummed.

“No, I’ve dreamt of this,” he murmured, nuzzling her forehead with his. “I thought I was going crazy.”

“If you are, then what does that make me?”

“I don’t know. If not crazy, then what other option is there?”

Reaching to cup the back of his neck, she pulled him ever closer, her next words brushing against his cheek. “I can think of something.”

His eyes opened to see her staring back at him, a flood of emotions he wasn’t sure he could name dancing there, reflecting identical ones in his own. Uncertainty gave way to resolve, and he hoped she would lend him some of hers, because he would surely need it.

He knew it was coming, and still it blew him away.

This time, her kiss was slow… purposeful. He melted into her, pulling her closer with an arm clutching to her waist and the other hand splayed across her shoulder blade.

The fog in his brain prevented him from determining how much time passed, but eventually they had to come up for air, identical smiles gracing their faces.

“I think I know what this is, Mulder, and I think you feel the same way. But if I’m wrong, this is going to be really awkward.” Her words were spoken with laughter, but there was an underlying sense of doubt. Doubt that by no means had any place there.

“No, I think you’re right,” he answered, cupping her cheek with his hand. “I think you’ve got it figured out.”

Her eyebrow went up again and a teasing smile played on her lips. “Can I get that in writing, or…”

He grinned and pulled her to him once more. “Oh, shut up.” And he kissed her.

---

Tagging @agent-troi @welsharcher @hippocampouts @invidiosa @whovianelle @captainsolocide @randomfoggytiger @today-in-fic

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Imagine Shuri revealing your father's Erik Killmonger lies to you

"Shuri what the hell?" Riri exclaimed at the sight of you laying in your bed unconscious. The Princess was crouched down beside you with her kimoyo beads bracelet hovering over your chest.

"Calm down Riri it was just panic attack her vitals are fine" Shuri tried to reassure her.

"She's had plenty of panic attacks in the past I never seen her pass out from one." Riri argued gently lifting your head to sit down, and rest your head in her lap.

"Well its not everyday a Princess from another nation shows up at her dorm to tell her that. Her dead father was a prince from another country, and that makes her a princess as well." Shuri pointed out standing upright.

"I thought you said you were going to ease her into it" Riri said angrily.

"I tried she wouldn't listen and was going to leave to find you."

Before the argument could go on you let out a soft groan shuffling around in Riri's arms. Immediately both of their attention shifted to you waiting in anticipation for your eyes to open. It took a minute but eventually they did flutter open. You stared up into the warm brown eyes of your girlfriend as you came to.

"Hey Ma take it easy I'm here." She whispered softly leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You closed you eyes to focus on gathering your thoughts, and to remember what happened before you passed out. And it all came flooding back to you when your head shifted to the side to see Shuri standing over you.

Your father. Prince of Wakanda. You. A Princess of Wakanda.

You shot upright so fast Riri barely had time to lean back to your forehead from connecting with hers. "What the hell is going on?" You asked as your breathing started to pick up. You were about to work yourself into another panic attack. But then a pair of hands cupped your face gently, and turned your head to the side. You were face to face with Riri who was doing her best not to look worried, but you could see past her defenses.

"Babe you need to calm down alright. Can you do that for me?" she pleaded.

You tore your face out of her grip and moved out of her lap to stand up. Shuri took a few steps back to give you as much space as she could. "No I won't calm down not until you explain to me what is going on. You've been acting so weird these past couple of days, and when I ask to meet up for an explanation. The Princess of Wakanda shows up at my door."

"I figured the explanation would come better from her rather than me" Riri said.

"Wait you knew" You accused her with a glare.

Riri shrinks back under your hardened gaze having never been the reason for your anger.

"Riri answer the question" You ordered furiously.

"Okay okay yes I knew just chill out y/n" Riri admitted. She got to her feet and moved a bit closer to Shuri.

It didn't take long for you to realize that your behavior was scaring her, and while it did make your heart clench in your chest. Because the last thing you ever wanted to do was make her fear you, it was still hard for you to just relax. You ran a hand through your hair in frustration while taking deep breaths.

"I know this is a lot for you to take in, and its hard to hear your father who you loved dearly, and had a close bond with kept such a huge secret from you. But I would like to finish telling you the truth if you want to hear it?" Shuri finally said watching your body language just in case you gave off any signs of a panic attack, or getting anymore hostile than you already were.

Your mind was everywhere right now still trying to process the part about your father and grandfather being Princes of Wakanda. Making you a Princess as well and now she's hinting there might be more than that. You didn't know if you could handle it, but at the same time. Shuri had your father's ring in her possession. The last time you saw it was around Erik's neck before he left for his last mission.

"Daddy do you have to go" You whined standing at the top of the stairs. Watching as he gathered up all of his bags at the door.

Erik glanced with a raised eyebrow at your tone. You were twelve years old now, a big girl and he didn't want you whining anymore. You were better than that.

"If its something worth whining for then its something worth fighting for, and you are a fighter babygirl" He told you. On your twelfth birthday that just passed a couple of weeks ago. Your eyes lit up in joy at the sight of a pair of twin daggers in the small box. The silver blades were smooth and sharp with a slight curve at the tip. The hilts were made out of a dark gold metal material, and was engraved with a panther symbol in the middle.

He promised to start teaching you how to use them when he got back from a important mission. One he had held off on for a long time, so he could be here to celebrate your big day with you.

Now your birthday was over and it was time for him to go on the mission. But you had a really bad feeling about him leaving this time. A dread had washed over you last night, and kept you awake on edge with worry.

"I'm going to let the whining slide this time because I know you're just worried about your old man. Now come here" He said opening his arms.

You wasted no time flying down the stairs with incredible speed to jump into his awaiting arms. Your father caught you as your legs wrapped around his waist, and spun you around in circles. You buried your face into the crook of his neck holding onto him as tight as you could manage. "Please don't go father I don't like this one" You whispered into his ear.

He simply rubbed circles into your back while walking over to sit down on the couch. You pulled back to right yourself in his lap, but still clung to him. "Babygirl I need you too look at me."

You shook your head and hid your face into his chest not wanting to hear whatever speech he was about to give. But you should've known better because your father wasn't going for that. Erik grabbed your chin in a firm grip, and tilted your head upwards. Till your eyes met his brown ones that were filled with pride.

"I know this isn't going to be easy for you with me going away, and having no idea when I'll be back. I've never done something like this before, and I'm scared to sweetheart" Erik told you.

You scoffed knocking his away from your chin, so you could look away in disbelief.

He chuckled shaking his head "I know you find it hard to believe but daddy gets afraid too sometimes. I just don't let it show because I gotta be strong for you."

"I'm your little solider remember." You reminded him turning back to him with trying to look tough. "Why can't you let me be strong for you sometimes?"

"That's right you are my little solider and I need you to be strong right now. Strong enough to let me go while I go do this because this isn't just another mission. This one is going to change things for us babygirl life is going to get better for everyone like us after this. Remember the promise I made to make our old community better."

You nodded thinking of your life back home before in California, before your father brought you to Washington D.C. with him. He promised that one day the two of you would return and help everyone there.

"Well it starts with this mission so you see babygirl I have to go." Erik said taking one of your hands in his.

"But I-"

He cut you off with stern gaze but the smile on his face was soft as was the tenderness hidden beneath hard look in his eyes. Erik loved you more than anything in this world, and even when he had to be tough with you. He still couldn't help but be soft so you knew he was coming from a good place. "I gotta do this y/n for us okay I promise I won't stay gone for too long, and I'll call you as soon as I get the chance."

Tears were starting to pool up in your eyes but you still gave him a quick nod. "Nuh-uh I'm not going to leave no girl of mine crying. Come on wipe those tears" he demanded trying to hide the emotion in his voice. Erik knew this mission was different just like you did, and one wrong move could end it all for him. "You're daddy's little solider remember."

"Yeah" You answered with a breathy chuckle wiping the tears away as they started to fall. Erik pressed lips to your forehead with his eyes closed envisioning a better world for the both of you. Not knowing that in your heart and eyes he had already given you the best. You wished then that you had told him.

Because then maybe your father would still be here alive, and watching you conquer the world as well.

"Yeah I want the truth. I want to hear all of it" You decided sitting back down on your bed.

"Um do you want me to go?" Riri asked nervously still hovering beside Shuri.

"No I'm sorry Ri I'm sorry its my father you know how I get" You said with an apologetic tone. You owed dinner and a gift after all of this was over.

"Its cool I'm sorry for not saying anything I figured it you should hear from her." She explained walking back over to sit beside you.

"Plus I told her not tell you I didn't know how you were going to react to the news" Shuri spoke up.

Well if the Princess of Wakanda was right about one thing then it was that call. If she didn't have your father's ring as proof of some connection to him. You would've scoffed at her claim and demanded that she leave.

"I must warn y/n the rest of the story won't be any easier for you to hear or comprehend. Are you sure you want to do this now? I can give you a day or two to come to terms with what you already have" Shuri offered. A guarded expression on her face.

She didn't buy that you were ready to hear everything, but you shook your head in determination. You wouldn't get any sleep, or be able to think of anything else. "I can handle it" You promised. Not sounding convincing at all.

Riri reached out to take to your hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. Letting you know she was here for you.

Shuri let out a sigh throwing a quick prayer to Bast that this didn't backfire on her. "Your grandfather's name was Prince N'Jobu and he was brothers with my own father T'Chaka."

Your eyes widened in surprise realizing what that meant. "So you're my cousin."

"Yes I am and like I said before that also makes you a Princess of Wakanda as well" Shuri admitted. You could tell she was a bit more hesitant this time, and it confused you. What did your father do?

"When my brother was just a boy our uncle N'Jobu was sent here to America on a mission, and while he was here. Your grandfather met a woman and fell in love. Eventually they would go on too have your father, and the more time your grandfather spent over here. The harder it became to just overlook all the violence and cruelty befalling the community." Shuri paused watching your demeanor change as your free hand balled into a fist.

You knew exactly what she hinting at when she said community. Your grandfather got tired of watching black people like him suffer when he came from a country where they were flourished and were respected. That is if you believed a word of what she was saying. You still hadn't decided yet. "Go on" you whispered eyes directed at the floor.

"N'Jobu betrayed Wakanda and told a dangerous man how to sneak into our country, steal our vibranium, and escape with it. His name was Ulysses Klaue and not only was his mission successful, but many lost their lives in his wake. My father T'Chaka had another spy planted here with your grandfather who reported back to him. After the attack my father came here to bring N'Jobu back home to answer for his crimes but" Shuri paused again. Unsure of rather or not she should be honest about this part. She realized that giving you the whole truth just might put you at odds with her. But lies is the reason your father grew up with so much hatred for Wakanda. While it might have seemed like a better idea to sugarcoat the truth with you. If you ever did somehow find out that she had lied there would be consequences.

"Your grandfather was angry at the spy and tried to kill him. My father saved his life by the taking the life of his own brother, and decided it was best to leave his child behind to hide the truth." Shuri finished letting an uncomfortable moment of silence wash over the room.

You just sat there for ten long seconds staring at the ground taking in her words. Your grip on Riri's hand had tightened so many times by now. Her own hand was throbbing in pain, but she didn't dare pull away. Instead Riri scooted forward to rest her forehead on your shoulder. "Babe you okay say somethin."

Your entire life was lie if you believed her, and something in you snapped. As you decided right then Shuri had to be lying there could be no truth in her story. Erik Killmonger wasn't the best man but he was the best father. A daughter could ask for and he wouldn't lie to you that much. He would've left a letter or something behind. All he left was his will leaving the home to you in Washington D.C., and his life insurance policy. No secret letter filled with confessions.

"My grandfather was no saint and was gunned down in some stupid drug war. My father wouldn't lie about that" You said in a stone cold voice. You lifted your head to look up at Shuri.

Her eyes squinted at the anger in them, and she slowly got to her feet. "Maybe you do need a day."

"No I don't need a day or two because you're lying. Take it back" You shouted jumping to your feet.

"I have no reason to lie to you y/n I only spoke the truth. Trust me this isn't any easier for-"

"If you're telling me the truth then explain to me why it took you so long to track me down. Or did Wakanda turn their back on me like they did my father."

"Y/N" Riri snapped stepping between you and Shuri as she watched the Princess's gaze darkened at your accusation. Every action her brother taken after Killmonger's death was to right their father's wrongs, and all the kings before him. T'Challa's number one goal as king was to be different and better, and he had accomplished that. She wasn't going to stand there and let you accuse him of less.

"I didn't know of your existence until a few weeks ago y/n I swear" Shuri said through gritted teeth.

"I thought you were supposed to be smart" You shot back.

You had the same condescending smirk on your face that Erik Killmonger wore so well. The same one when he attempted to take her life. The same one when he addressed her mother in the throne room after revealing his true identity. The same one after he threw T'Challa into the falls.

Shuri knew this might be too much for you, but she never considered rather or not. She would be able to handle it especially if this very thing happened. You were practically a spitting image of Killmonger right now, and she was still in the process of grieving her brother's death. And all of the memories surfacing right now were not fond ones. "I'm going to go before I say something I can't take back" she told you.

"You're leaving because you're a liar" You seethed.

"Babe stop it" Riri chided you shoving your shoulder.

"Your father was the one who lied to you. I don't know why but I'm just trying to fix that." Shuri replied throwing his ring in your direction.

You snatched it out of the air. "I don't know how you got this but thanks anyway. Now get out of my dorm and don't come back."

Shuri turned and headed towards the door without another word.

"Babe listen I kno-" Riri started but closed her mouth when you turned your hardened gaze on her. "Babe" she tried again in just a whisper this time.

"I'm not your babe anymore you knew about all of this, and didn't have the nerve to tell me. I've known you way longer than she has Riri fuck I freaking loved and trusted you, and you know better than anyone. How hard that was for me I mean you know exactly what's it like to be me, and you took her side over mine" You argued.

"Y/N its not like that you're in your feelings right now. If you would just calm down and hear her out. You know and get your head out of your ass" She fired back.

"You're still taking her side" You exclaimed taking a step forward. "Get the fuck out Riri go chase your little princess." You pointed a finger at the door.

Riri flinched at your tone and choice of words. "Hey let's not do that-"

"Too late get out we're done. I'm done with you as friends, as lovers, as anything. Now get out or so help me I will make you" You swore. Your voice or eye contact not wavering for a single second.

Tears slipped from her eyes to fall down her face as she opened her mouth only to close it. Riri couldn't find the words to make this right. You could see her heart breaking as she searched for a way to fix this, but you weren't going to give her one.

Shuri backtracked to secure a strong arm around the young girl's waist, and take her with her. Eventually it registered in her mind that she was moving towards the door against her will. Riri fought against her hold trying to plead with you, but she was no match for Shuri's strength. The Princess held onto with ease opening the door, walking out, and closing it behind them.

You watched them leave ignoring Riri's pleas to just listen to her. Your heart couldn't take anymore, and you weren't sure of how you react. You looked down at your father's ring in your hand, and for the first time in your life. You really looked at it taking in every little detail in the past your father always wore it around his neck. Never parting it from it too long if he did at all. As you studied the ring you took notice of something you never recognized about it before.

There were strange symbols etched into the ring, and one of the matched the tattoo. Your father gave you himself when you were just a little girl.

He told you the tattoo meant daddy's girl in another language. You were five years old and had no reason to question him at all.

Tag List: @lizlil @darkmemesworld @rhayanm @aliives @angel-bi666 @agustdeeyaa @liliana-byers @lightskintedsblog @marice23top @filmsbyhyuna @shuriswhore @vevethirst @londyn-loves-u @iwillbeabitch @klackyb @ziayamikaelson @taleiak @awolfcsworld @shinsousliya @vlkyriesverse @k3nn3dyxo @mxyx-rx444 @sexylifestylesblog @youralphawolf72

[hyacinthoideshispanica]

An idea for a Nessian au.

Nesta is a world-renowned prima ballerina who is being stalked by Tomas Mandray, an abusive ex-boyfriend who's turned obsessive. In her free time, she reads and takes self-defense lessons with her friends Gwyn and Emerie.

One night, she gets home and finds her door kicked in and a very vulgar/threatening note from Tomas beside a bouquet of fresh roses on the table.

For her safety, Rhys and Feyre set her up at their more remote house built into the side of a mountain, and Rhys also hires two of his friends, Cassian and Azriel, to be her bodyguards.

Cassian and Nesta obviously do not get along. Cassian tells her she needs to stop dancing for a bit as it draws too much attention, and Nesta refuses, making them take her to the studio every single day.

"I can't believe she's making us come here every day. Doesn't she realize how dangerous it is? He could be watching her right now!"

"I think it shows how brave she is. I mean, yes, she's scared, but she's also refusing to let him control her life.

"....Fine, I'll admit she's brave for going on with her life as normally as possible, but it's still really stupid that she's making us stand out in the hall like this. How are we supposed to protect her if we can't even see her?"

"Well, what did you expect, Cassian? After you spent the last two classes glaring daggers at Eris and making the entire room feel uncomfortable, I'm surprised she let you come along at all."

"Eris... I don't trust that guy. Don't like the look of him."

"You don't like the look of him, or you don't like the way he looks at her?"

"What's that supposed to mean, Az?"

"He's her dance partner, Cassian. It's perfectly natural that they have a certain level of chemistry, and if we were guarding any other woman, you'd be more than capable of making the distinction between a dance partner and an actual threat. When it comes to Nesta Archeron, you let your personal feelings get in the way and that can be dangerous..."

One night at the house, Cassian can't sleep and goes to the home gym but finds Nesta already there, warming up.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine. You?"

"I'm good, I just couldn't sleep."

"So, what? You figured a workout would help?"

"Well, I usually go for a drive, but I can't leave you."

"I don't need you to babysit me. I don't even know why Rhys hired you, I can take care of myself."

Cassian challenges her to a sparing match to test her self-defense technique, and a whole lot of tension happens. He tells her she has promise, but he can train her to be better.

A few months go by, and Nesta is preparing to dance the lead role in an upcoming performance. Cassian and Azriel are teaching her how to handle weapons, and she and Cassian have also started sleeping together.

The performance is only a day away, and Nesta is in her dressing room when a bouquet of roses gets delivered. There's been no sign of Tomas since he broke into her house months ago, so she thinks the flowers are from Cassian until she sees the note that's attached.

"I can't wait for tomorrow night. Love, Tomas."

She drops the vase, glass and water spilling everywhere, and Cassian and Azriel rush in. They immediately take her back to the house, and Cassian tells her she's not leaving again until they find Tomas. Nesta is furious, the performance is tomorrow, she can't just quit.

"Maybe we should let her dance, Cassian. I mean, if she's there, he will be too. It'd be easier to catch him that way."

"No! There's no way in hell we're using her as bait!"

"I agree with Azriel. I made a commitment to the company-"

"And I made a commitment to keep you safe!"

"I have dedicated my life to dancing, Cassian! I refuse to sacrifice that because of him!

"If you go on that stage tomorrow, you'll be risking your life!"

"And if I don't, I'll be risking my career! My passion!"

"I'd much rather my girlfriend lose her career than her life!"

Nesta stares at him for a moment, stunned that he called her his girlfriend, and then her eyes go cold.

"Let me make something perfectly clear to you, Cassian. I am not your girlfriend. I'm fucking you, I'm not with you. You can't tell me what to do!"

The next night, Nesta takes the stage, and Cassian and Azriel watch from the wings. Nesta hasn't spoken a word to Cassian since the previous night, and he's upset but also can't take his eyes off her. He's completely mesmerized by her. After the performance, Azriel goes to check the perimeter again and give Cassian a chance to talk to Nesta alone, but when Nesta sees him, she turns in the other direction and finds Gwyn and Emerie waiting for her with flowers.

Cassian decides to give her a moment alone with her friends, but Nesta uses that as an opportunity to sneak away. The girls celebrate by stopping by a late night cafe, buying all the cakes and pastries they can carry and driving a few hours away to Emerie's cabin for the weekend.

Cassian and Azriel are losing their minds trying to figure out where Nesta went, but then Cassian gets a text from a blocked number that shows a picture of Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie gagged and bound.

"If you really cared about her like I do, you never would have let her out of your sight."

Tomas followed the girls to Emerie's cabin and is now holding them hostage.

"I wanted to sweep you off your feet directly after your performance, but those two guard dogs got in the way. It all worked out, though, just as I knew it would. We were always meant to be together, Nesta."

Nesta starts cussing him out as best she can with the gag still in place. And Tomas starts laughing.

"Now don't start that up, Nesta. You'll give your friends the wrong impression of us."

He leans down and removes the gag long enough to kiss her, and she bits his lip so bad he starts bleeding. Tomas, completely unconcerned, makes a comment about how he's always loved her fire. Then says he has to go into town for a bit for extra supplies since he didn't plan on he and Nesta entertaining guests so soon.

As soon as he's gone, Gwyn jumps up, free of her restraints. This entire time, she's been slowly working herself free with a knife she always has on hand, and she immediately cuts the other girls loose.

"We have to get out of here."

"How? He took the car and our phones."

"We could walk to the town, but it's two hours away by car and even longer on foot. He'd probably find us before we got anywhere safe."

"My family's owned this cabin my entire life, I feel comfortable enough in the woods that I think we could hide out there for a while."

"OK. The woods, then. We'll be safe there until Cassian can find us."

The girls hide out in the forest for a day or two. In that time, Tomas started hunting them, and Cassian and Azriel have tracked the location from the blocked number so they show up and also take to the woods.

Gwyn hurts her leg, and Tomas is nearby.

"Oh, Nesta! Come on out, sweetheart! You know we're supposed to be together, so stop fighting it!

Nesta realizes they won't get away before he finds them, so she urges Emerie and Gwyn to go without her.

"We're not leaving you alone! That guy's psycho!"

Nesta continues to push them to leave, saying Gwyn needs a doctor and that as long as she's with them, Tomas won't stop.

"It's me he wants. You two go, get to safety. Find Cassian. I'll hold him off in the meantime."

They agree, and Gwyn hands Nesta her small knife before she and Emerie shuffle off into the trees.

Nesta waits in a nearby clearing, knife in hand, waiting for Tomas to show himself.

"I found you."

Meanwhile, Emerie and Gwyn are rushing back to the cabin as fast as they can and run into Azriel and Cassian. They explain where Nesta is in the woods and that Tomas wasn't far behind. Cassian bolts into the trees, and Azriel checks on the girls.

"...it doesn't seem like the bone is broken."

"Great! Now let's go help Nesta."

"You can barely walk."

"You and Emerie will help me. Besides, I don't need a working leg in order to punch that creep right in his creepy face!"

Cassian is running through the trees like his life depends on it, while Nesta stares down Tomas, who is circling around her like a hunting predator.

"If you touch me, I'll castrate you and shove your pathetic excuse for a dick down your throat."

"Oh, Nesta, always teasing. You know you won't do anything to me, sweetheart, you love me too much."

"I don't love you, Tomas. I never did, and I never will!"

Tomas hesitates, his eyes, previously filled with deranged affection, flash with deadly rage.

"And who do you love Nesta? That pathetic guard dog you've been screwing?"

He takes a step towards her, and she raises the knife.

"Take another step, and I will kill you."

Tomas laughs mockingly, "Do you really think that you, a sweet little ballerina, can actually hurt me?"

"Yes. Because my boyfriend taught me well."

Nesta lunges forward and stabs Tomas in the stomach right as Cassian comes bursting through the trees and screams her name.

They run to each other

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine, but Emerie and Gwyn are-"

"We're right here!"

Gwyn comes through the trees a moment later being supported on each side by Azriel and Emerie.

"What are you doing? I told you to run."

"We did run. And then we came back."

Nesta wraps her arms around herself, the shock and stress of everything finally getting to her. Cassian puts an arm around her, drawing her close, and suggests they head back to the cabin. Once their there, the girls shower, eat, and rest, then Azriel drives Gwyn into town to see a doctor. Once they return to the cabin, an ambulance is called for Tomas.

Tomas is sent to the hospital under police supervision, but it's very unlikely he'll survive considering his stab wound was left unattended for a few hours and may be infected due to someone, Emerie and Gwyn, poking it repeatedly with muddy sticks.

Azriel, Emerie, and Gwyn are asleep, but Cassian and Nesta have stayed up and are talking in front of the fire.

"You were incredibly brave today, Nesta. I'm just sorry he ever got that close to you."

"It's not your fault, Cassian. You tried to keep me home, and I wouldn't listen. Then, at the show, I snuck away and-"

"It's not your fault either. No one is to blame but him, and he's never going to bother you ever again. You made sure of that."

"Thank you, by the way, for teaching me how to wield a knife."

"You're welcome.... So, your boyfriend taught you well?"

"Shut up, Cass."

"Make me, Nes."

They kiss.

As always, if anyone wants to use this as a prompt, please feel free. I don't have the talent to write out an actual fic.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 23

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 22 🍂 Part 24

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Chapter warnings: Lots and LOTS of names. (The family tree isn't quite finished yet, but if anyone needs it to keep track of this... I'll post it XD)

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: 21 days. That's three whole weeks. I'm so sorry! I've been trying to get ahead on this thing for a bit, it didn't quite work out. I just wasn't in a Sy mood for some reason. But! Here we are again, with another fluffish chapter. @keanureevesisbae hold on to your ovaries, there will be Sy holding babies. (Do I owe up to 30 or 31 now?)

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @omgkatinka @summersong69 @beck07990 @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @ellethespaceunicorn

A few quick observations: Sy’s family? Very big. And as you would expect from a big family; the noise was absolutely overwhelming. Dean appeared next to you out of nowhere, grabbing you by the shoulders and dragging you into a corner.

“Let Jules handle this part, just…” He looked around for a moment, which was a lot easier for him than it was for you, and called Sy over.

“There y’are, Sugar,” he said. “Thought I’d lost ya!”

“You did lose me,” you growled. Sy’s family consisted of a fair amount of big men – not that Sy was by any means the runt of the family; quite the contrary, in fact – and a far larger amount of less-than-tall-but-still-taller-than-you women. And kids. So, so many kids. Some of which, you noticed, were also taller than you.

“Let me introduce you to my family,” Sy said. To your surprise – though it didn’t surprise you as much as it maybe should have – he went out to look for his parents, first.

“Mom, dad,” Sy said when he’d found them in the crowd, “I’d like you to meet Lara, my girlfriend.” As soon as he said it, the living room went much more quiet, and the entire atmosphere turned much more uncomfortable.

“Alright, y’all absolutely sure y’all wanna get nosy?” It didn’t sound friendly, but everyone went off minding their own business, so that was good.

“Sy!” Either his mother didn’t appreciate her son’s direct approach, or something else was off. “Why is this the first time we’re hearin’ of any girlfriend?” Instead of offering a defense to his mother, Sy just looked at his dad.

“He may have said somethin’bout it to me,” Sy’s father growled to no one in particular before turning to Sy, “but it’s yer own fault for not tellin’ your mother directly.”

“It’s been busy,” Sy said softly. There clearly wasn’t a good way for him to navigate himself out of this conversation.

“Too busy to call your own mother? Good Lord, what did I do to deserve this?”

“Betty-Jo and John-Bob Syverson,” Sy chuckled at you as his mother made a few dramatic hand gestures before slapping Sy in the shoulder with her purse a few times.

“Now probably ain’t the best time to ask why your furniture is in her living room, right, Sy?” A younger man who looked like he was one of Sy’s brothers threw an arm around Sy’s shoulders and grinned so wide that you were almost scared his face would tear in half. Sy looked like he was about to commit murder, but so did Sy’s mom – and you had to admit she was much scarier – and very quick to put two and two together.

“Are the two o’ya livin’ together?” It was funny to hear that her drawl got more pronounced when she got mad, just like Sy’s…

“Ma, don’t get m-“

“It’s a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question, son.” There was absolutely no arguing with this woman.

“Yes.”

“Jonathan George Syverson, I raised you better than to go around livin’ with women you ain’t got no intention of marryin’!”

“One second, Ma,” Sy said with a grin before turning to you. “Sugar, did I or did I not tell you that that was exactly what she’d have to say about that?” He paid for the choice to interrupt the conversation with a very firm smack in the back of his head from his father.

“Don’t you think for a second that I’m in any way thrilled about this situation, son.”

“Nothin’ to do with you, sweetheart, you seem like a very nice girl,” his mother said to you in the nicest voice before scowling at her son again. “But you should know better. Sweet lord Jesus, what did I do wrong? You try to raise ‘em right, ‘n this is what you get…”

“You raised him just fine, Ma’am,” you said before slamming your mouth shut again. Why were you getting in the middle of this? You should definitely stay out of this. It was a good thing Sy smiled when you looked up at him, and he pulled you closer.

“I don’t think you gotta worry about his intentions to marry her, Ma,” his brother said as he looked at Sy’s face. His expression said everything – which seemed to calm his mother down at least a little. You talked to them for a moment before they walked away to say hello to Julie’s parents.

“This is Georgie,” Sy said after they were out of earshot, “the youngest of the twins, who’s apparently made it his life’s mission to try’n get me killed. What the fuck was that, you bastard?”

“Revenge,” Georgie replied, “For ratting me ‘n Angelina Jefferson out.”

“That was senior prom! You held onto that for nearly ten years? God damn!” He shook his head in disbelief until George was joined by a woman holding a kid. “Anyway, this is his wife, Emma. And that’s Mikey, their youngest. The eldest is Helena Marie, she’s off somewhere, I reckon.” Mikey reached for Sy, who took him from his mom. Something about seeing Sy with a kid on his arm made you melt. Apparently, George saw the way you looked at his brother.

“Looks good on him, doesn’t it?” he said with a big smirk. There was absolutely no denying that he was right. From the corner of your eye, you saw Jules, who had been handed what no doubt was the youngest kid of Pat’s sister.

“Shut up,” Sy snapped back at Georgie, “stop tryin’ to make her uncomfortable.”

“He’s right, though. It does suit you,” you said – again, without thinking about it. What was wrong with you? “Anyway, we’re not done with introductions, are we?”

“Not even close,” Sy answered before he started laughing.

“Uncle Sy!” you suddenly heard from behind, and a boy – you guessed he was 12 or so years old – appeared next to you. “New girlfriend?”

“Hey, Wes! Yeah,” Sy replied, “this is Lara.”

“Lara, or Aunt Lara?”

“Depends on whether you want to live to see another day, mister,” someone else replied to that question from somewhere behind you. You raised your eyebrows at Sy, who pointed out the next person for you to be introduced to: his sister-in-law Nora-Beth, who was married to the eldest of the twins, Ricky. According to Sy, they had one kid – so far: John-Luke.

“Aunt it is!” the teen in front of you said with the same big grin on his face that Sy usually had. He introduced himself as Wesley and disappeared again.

“Wes is my sister Mary Beth’s eldest,” Sy explained, and he pointed his sister out in the crowd, along with her husband Bill. “The other four are Gray, Will and Kenny, and there’s Lainey, the one she’s holding.”

“God, five kids?” You remembered that Sy had told you that Mary Beth was twenty-nine years old. “In nine years?” That was a tight fit, timewise.

“In thirteen years,” Sy said, “she had Wes when she was sixteen. Don’t bring it up with Ma around, she’s still not over it completely. It was Nana who knocked some sense into her, actually.” That was unexpected, because Sy had described his grandma as extremely religious and very… proper.

“She wasn’t thrilled,” Mary Beth had apparently heard your conversation, and was now standing next to Sy, “but she figured we’d have to make the best of a bad situation. Before you think the worst; my higschool boyfriend knocked me up and then took off. Bad enough, but not as bad as it could’ve been.”

“Oh, sweetie,” she said when she saw your face, “It’s okay if you don’t know what to say! You look scared to death, sweetheart, are you alright?”

“Just not used to all this big family… stuff,” you admitted softly as you looked around the room to all the faces of people you hadn’t been introduced to yet. You were already dizzy, how the hell were you going to survive this?

“Sy, what were you thinkin’, dumpin’ a sweet girl like her in the middle of this like it ain’t nothin’!” Another voice you didn’t recognize, but that problem solved itself. “Anna-Belle, nice to meet you! This is my husband, Lewis.” She pointed to the man next to her before giving you a hug. At least there seemed to be no kids attached to this pair, that was a nice break from everything that was going on. Unfortunately for you, the next unfamiliar face was already approaching for introductions. This time, it was Darlene Louise, Sy’s youngest siter, with her husband, Jonathan. You were beginning to gain some first-hand experience with the reason Sy went by Sy. Darlene Louise – who insisted she shouldn’t be called Darlene – and John – who insisted he shouldn’t be called Jonathan – had two kids: Jenna-Lynn and Vicky-Lee.

“Lara? Lara!” Now that voice you’d recognize everywhere: it was Jules. “God, there you are. You’re damn near invisible in here, I thought you were one of the kids. Come meet my parents!” She pulled you along to the far side of the living room.

“Mom, dad, this is Lara, my Dutch friend I’ve been telling you about for years!”

At least you recognized Debbie and Tim McGregor from pictures, and apparently they recognized you, too. Her mother hugged you, her father shook your hands, and they both repeated the phrase ‘nice to meet you’ half a dozen times before asking you all kinds of questions about yourself you felt you’d already answered seventy-two times this afternoon, even though you’d hardly spend any time talking to anyone, because Sy kept throwing names in your direction. After Julie’s’parents, you were introduced to Mary-Kate and Patrick Dawson – Pat’s parents – and Sy’s uncle Charlie and his husband Raymond. You managed to escapte to the kitchen before anyone else could get to you.

“Sugar? Are you hidin’?” Sy wrapped his arms around you more carefully than he usually would have. “I know it’s a lot, are you alright?”

“Exhausted,” you said, “and nauseous.”

“Do you want to lie down for a minute?” His offer came just a tiny bit too late, because Jules called everyone back into the living room for some sort of announcement, or whatever, and you had no choice but to follow Sy, who luckily stayed close to you.

[2baddiesfanfics]

From Liyue With Love

Pairing: Beidou x Ningguang

Tags: Birthday, Valentine's Day, Birthday Sex, Presents, Scissoring, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering

Summary:

Beidou has always been more partial to Valentine's Day than the other event that happens to fall on the same date. Ningguang wants to change that. In the end, they discover they've both got the best gifts either of them could hope for.

Read on Ao3

The chain of the gold necklace shimmered as Beidou held it up to the light of the mid-day Liyue sun. She’d stopped at Mingxing Jewelry to pick up the Valentine’s Day gift she had special ordered for the Tianquan who held her heart. Over the years she had imported many ores and gems one could only find from the furthest reaches of Sumeru to the deepest seas of Fontaine just for Xingxi’s store.

“Is it to your liking, captain? I admit, I took a few liberties with the instructions you left me,” Xingxi stated hesitantly.

Beidou ran her thumb across the small heart-shaped pendant, the cold stones chilling her skin. The two halves glistened in their respective signature colors - amethyst for her electro, citrine for Ningguang’s geo.

“It’s perfect,” she whispered. “Thanks, Xingxi! Knew I could count on you.”

The shopkeeper smiled gently. “I’m so happy to hear it.”

Beidou plopped a sizable sack of mora on the counter but was taken aback when Xingxi pushed it toward her.

“Captain, I appreciate that you think so highly of my handiwork, but I fear this is far too much. Half of that is more than enough. Consider it a birthday discount,” she replied with a wink.

She blinked, unsure of how to respond. If she didn’t have Ningguang in her life, today would be like any other. Commemorating Valentine’s Day was fun for many reasons. Beidou relished any chance she could get to show the Tianquan what she meant to her. The other yearly occurrence that happened to be on the same day…she had never seen a reason to celebrate.

Beidou swallowed back the dark emotions that threatened to burst forth. “Gee… thanks, Xingxi. Wait a second…how did you know it was my-“

The shopkeeper let out a chuckle. “Captain…how could I not? It’s all Lady Ningguang has been talking about for days.”

With a blush spreading across her face, Beidou nodded her head in gratitude and started the lengthy trek to the Jade Chamber.

“Captain Beidou! It’s so nice to see you here,” Baishi said suspiciously loud. She had greeted her right before the doors to Ningguang’s office, which Beidou found unusual.

“Uh, yeah, you too, Baishi. Is the Tianquan in?”

The secretary looked nervously over her shoulder. “Um…she’s a little-“ A loud crash came from the other side of the door, and Beidou looked ready to rush in.

“Ning? Are you okay in there?”

A swirl of platinum blonde hair appeared in the doorway. “Yes, captain, everything is quite alright. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some…business to wrap up. It’ll only be a few minutes.”

Beidou cocked an eyebrow. “You sure you’re good?”

Ningguang stared daggers at her. “Do you mean to insinuate I don’t know what I’m doing, captain?”

She held up her hands in defense. “Not at all. Continue,” she said with a smug smirk.

After passing the time chatting with Baishi, Beidou was relieved to hear Ningguang’s voice echo through the double doors once more.

“You may enter now. Baishi, please let Baiwen and Baixiao know you are all free to go home for the evening.” After a quick “goodnight,” the woman left to find her coworkers.

Beidou swiftly entered the room and was caught completely off guard by the sight before her. Ningguang had donned a dark blue strapless dress that sparkled like moonlight on the ocean’s surface.

A quiet “wow” was the most she could manage. Her attention was quickly directed to the table behind her, however. It had been set for dinner, complete with a tall glass of Beidou’s favorite lager imported from Inazuma. The scent of flash-fried filet, her favorite dish, wafted through the room, making her stomach growl.

“Baobei…did you…did you cook all this?”

Ningguang glided over to her side. “I may have asked Chef Mao’s girl to walk me through some things, but yes,” she answered as she took Beidou’s hand in hers. “Happy birthday, my love.”

Beidou felt the room spin around her. The weight of such careful planning hit her in full force.

“What’s wrong? Is it not to your liking?”

She hadn’t realized tears had started to drip down her cheeks.

“No! Archons…no. I love it. It’s just…I’m not used to this. I’ve always associated my birthday with wishing I hadn’t been born.”

Ningguang’s grip on her hand tightened. “How could you say that, Beidou?”

The captain wiped her face with the back of her hand. “I mean…Valentine’s Day is much more important, don’t ya think? I’d rather celebrate love than a curse like me.”

A look of intense sorrow came over Ningguang. She leaned her forehead on Beidou’s, forcing her to make eye contact. “You are not a curse, dear heart. Those villagers were ignoramuses who believed in mumbo-jumbo bullshit. Please. Let’s celebrate you tonight, hmm? I can think of no one more deserving,” she said as she took her by the hand and led her to the table.

“Well, one thing’s for sure. I’m not about to let this go to waste. Thank you so much, baobei.”

Ningguang smiled at the return of her signature sense of humor. The women sat down and thoroughly enjoyed every last bite as they chatted about their respective weeks.

“Whew. I couldn’t eat another bite! My compliments to the chef. You sure you don’t want to join my crew and cook for all of us?”

Slightly buzzed on her own glass or three of wine, Ningguang let out a hearty laugh. “Oh please. It was one dish! But I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Chugging the rest of her beer, Beidou let out a satisfied sigh. “Shame there’s no dessert, though. Could really go for something sweet after this.” She shifted her hooded gaze to lock eyes with the Tianquan. Ningguang had been with her long enough to recognize this was a different kind of hunger.

“Who said I didn’t have something prepared for your sweet tooth?” She replied seductively as she got up to get closer to her. “Did you honestly think this was all I got you?” Ningguang hiked her dress up as she positioned herself to straddle her lover’s lap. Beidou’s eyes drifted to the garter straps peeking out from under the fabric and had to control herself from ripping them off with her teeth.

“You mean there’s a feast after the feast?” She asked, lips already wandering across her chest and up her neck.

“Hmmm…it’s prepared. You just have to devour it,” Ningguang half-moaned.

“Then don’t mind if I do,” Beidou said as she grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her effortlessly. Their mouths locked as the Tianquan wrapped her arms around her neck for support. The captain knew the way to the private sleeping quarters of Ningguang’s office like the back of her hand and carefully navigated around the stacks of scrolls that always seemed to inevitably accumulate.

Once she made it to the bed, she set her down and crawled on top of her, continuing to show her gratitude by attending to every inch of her body. Her dress was far too beautiful to remove, so she worked around whatever skin was left uncovered.

She was delectable in so many ways, and Beidou couldn’t help but repay her kindness in the only way she knew would come close. As she situated herself between her thighs, she shifted the fabric of her dress up to her hips to provide her with enough access.

Ningguang could only let out contented sighs and groans as the captain took her time savoring and teasing her. Beidou kissed her inner thigh, causing her to spread herself wider in anticipation. Whether this was a gift for Beidou or Ningguang, neither of them cared. They were lost in each other. Finally, the captain moved the crotch of the Tianquan’s panties to the side and tasted the unique but familiar flavor of her arousal.

“Archons…Beidou, your tongue feels so good…”

“Louder for me, baby. Let me hear how good I make you feel,” she commanded before swiveling it inside of her. The buck of Ningguang’s hips drove her deeper and caused her to moan. She held them down as she continued the practiced movements she knew would make her come undone. Desperate for connection, the Tianquan covered Beidou’s hands with her own.

“Fuck…Beidou…yessssss…” Between the captain’s muffled grunts and her own mewls of pleasure, Ningguang came with a shudder.

Beidou plopped onto her side next to where Ningguang lay on the bed dizzy on alcohol and her orgasm. The Tianquan rolled to face her and softly stroked the captain’s face with her well-manicured fingers.

“Well, that was just lovely. But I do believe I need to exchange a gift of my own. For without you being born today, I would not have a love worth celebrating. The archons gave me my heart on the most romantic day of the year.” Ningguang leaned in and kissed her with a passion unmatched.

The Tianquan tasted the salty tang of Beidou’s tears. To this day the captain still wasn’t used to this poetic tenderness. Sure, she and Ningguang had been together for a while, but she wasn’t usually this romantic. Beidou placed her hands on her waist and pulled her closer.

Their tongues clashed as hands roamed, divesting one another of any remaining clothing until their body heat was the only thing keeping them warm. Ningguang grabbed Beidou’s leg and placed it on her hip as she moved her hand between the two of them to her drenched core.

“What you lack in words your body certainly makes up for,” she teased as she ran her thumb across Beidou’s clit. The captain jolted in response to the stimulation.

“Ning…” She quietly breathed into her ear sending goosebumps down the Tianquan’s spine.

Collecting her arousal, she easily inserted two fingers into her. Moving them in and out, she slowly stroked her thumb across her sensitive bud in time with her movements. She continued her ministrations as she kissed down Beidou’s neck and across her chest. The captain’s flushed face and high-pitched moaning of her name alerted her she was close. Ningguang sped up her thrusts and crashed her mouth against her lover’s as she spasmed around her.

The two women held each other tightly reveling in the happiness and love they shared.

“Oh! Before I forget…” Beidou quickly hopped off the bed to fish around in the pocket of the bag she had brought with her. Producing a small wooden box, she placed it in Ningguang’s outstretched hand. “Happy Valentine’s Day, baobei. A treasure for my treasure.”

Ningguang rolled her eyes endearingly at the terrible pun. Turning her gaze back toward what she now held in her palm, she pried it open and gasped when she saw the contents.

“B-Beidou…this…this is gorgeous!” She gasped. Instinctively she turned around and pulled her hair back so the captain could do the honors. The necklace was surprisingly light considering the weight of the emotion it held. “I love it and will cherish it forever,” she exclaimed as she took her face in her hands. “Just like you.”

Beidou beamed at her girlfriend’s excitement. “I’m glad. I only brought Xingxi the materials. She was the one who worked her magic.”

Ningguang whipped around to her side table and immediately pulled out her own gift. Beidou couldn’t help but giggle at the ornate packaging that was so very…Ningguang.

“Now, you’ll have to let me know if this isn’t to your tastes. It’s nowhere near as ornate as what you’ve gifted me, but I hope you’ll still enjoy it,” she warned as Beidou began to carefully pull the paper away. Soon, it was revealed to be a beautiful photo album. Pictures of memorable moments decorated each page.

Beidou standing by the Alcor, newly purchased with help from Ningguang. Their first lantern rite together. The time Beidou took Ningguang on a trip to Inazuma to meet the sly fox of a light novel publisher she knew she’d want to do business with. A snapshot of the both of them deep in thought pondering over a chessboard. The rest of the photos started to blur through eyes glistening once again with unshed tears.

“I had that lovely little photographer from The Steambird help me restore some of the old photographs I had lying around. I figured it might help if you had something to look at when you were away on longer voyages.”

“Ning…I don’t have words. This is…this is incredible. And perfect. Just like you.”

The Tianquan smiled mischievously. “And…you haven’t gotten to the end yet. Go ahead and turn a few more pages,” she teased. Beidou did as she was told and was greeted by insanely risqué shots of Ningguang in barely-there lingerie…as well as some with her in nothing at all. She snapped the album shut quickly, her face turning red.

“Holy shit. I’m going to need to go another round after that.”

Beidou crawled on her hands and knees toward Ningguang, grabbing her hips and pulling her closer. She wrapped her legs around Beidou’s waist, their mouths clashing once again.

Their cores aligned, they were both reduced to a moaning mess as their bodies shook with need for one another.

“Baobei,” Beidou groaned between kisses, “You’re the…best gift…I could ever hope to…receive.”

The Tianquan wrapped her arms around her, yanking her closer for added pressure. Beidou moved her hips in time with Ningguang’s, their now over-stimulated buds sliding against one another ferociously.

The sound of ragged breathing, sighs of pleasure, and the gentle rattle of a necklace chain swirled in a symphony throughout the room. The captain slid a hand between them, adding additional sensation to Ningguang’s clit.

“Come with me, love,” Beidou whispered as she held her tightly. The two women once again found release, their movements slowing as their orgasms came to a dull throb.

Ningguang clasped the pendant she now wore around her neck. “Beidou, you’ll have to tell me - what does it feel like to be the richest woman in Teyvat?”

Beidou propped herself up on her elbow as she cocked a curious eyebrow at the woman she loved. “Why, Lady Tianquan…whatever do you mean?”

“Mora is easy to come by. But you own something truly priceless - my heart.”

“Now that,” Beidou said as she placed a kiss on her forehead, “is the best birthday gift I will ever receive.”

[everydayyoulovemeless]

Neighbor ↠ Sturges x Reader

➼ Word Count » 0.6k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Summary » Sturges is your neighbor at Sanctuary and comes to visit you while sick.

Sanctuary Hills was slowly starting to solidify itself as a home for you and the other settlers that had moved here with you. Ever since the attack on Quincy, you had been a little more paranoid than usual. If you weren't asleep, you were probably working yourself to death trying to improve and build up the town's defenses. You took on every job you possibly could, doing much to pick up the slack of the other workers in the developing town. As much as Preston appreciated your effort and dedication, he was beginning to get worried about how hard you were pushing yourself.

The day you passed out was the final straw for everyone around you as you were confined to your home until you were deemed better by the town's doctor. As much as you argued, you still found yourself trapped in your living room.

"Hey hon'," Sturges greeted, carefully making his way toward you, "How're you holdin' up?"

"Good enough," You responded, sitting up from where you lay sprawled out on the couch you had been ordered to temporarily stay on. The same couch that he had fixed up for you when you complained about Mama Murphy only being given broken chairs to rest in. "I feel about ready to get back out there."

He looked away briefly before looking back at you, "Yeah, I ain't sure Preston's gonna let you leave that soon."

"It's not up to Preston," You retorted, "It's up to my doctor."

"An' yer doctor said that you ain't allowed to leave for at least a few more days."

You dropped yourself dramatically back onto the cushions of the couch, groaning at his words. What's the doctor know anyhow? His only qualification was knowing how to craft addictol, and that doesn't have anything to do with your 'condition'.

"Oh, come on now, it ain't all that bad." The ancient floors creaked beneath him before he sat beside your feet at the end of your makeshift bed, "You do a bit of restin' then you can go right back to whatever it is yer set on doin'."

"I'm scared that this break will set us back." You admitted, running your hands down your face in stress.

"Quite worryin', doll, I got enough time on my hands to handle us losin' all yer efficiency."

"Are you sure? Don't you still have to fix up some of the houses?"

"I don't mind workin' overtime." He promised, "Maybe I'll get sick too and end up right here next to ya." He placed his large hand on your knee and hovered closer to your face as you sat up.

You pushed his face away, a smile finding its way onto your face, "Yeah, whatever. Just don't get lazy about it."

"I'll go get to it then," He spoke, using your knee to help him to his feet once again, "I'll be back later tonight to check in on you, that alright?"

You grinned at him as his muscular figure leaned on the busted door frame, "You better." Was all you replied with before weariness started to strike you and you felt your body begin to get ready to collapse again. Your foggy vision caught Sturges chuckling at your exhausted self before he left to start on the work of the day, leaving you to lay peacefully again.

When you awoke again, there was a cup of purified water sitting on an old nightstand that wasn't there before. You smiled as you cracked open the can, happy to note that Stuges had come to visit you that night and that you were a little bit closer to returning to your daily chores.

[lululawrence]

Strange story: I was at work the other day and dunkirk was playing on the tv and I was gushing and being very loud. So this coworker, was like, Cristal are you okay? And I was like YES! There’s Harry! I love him. And she was like, the first thing she said was like, “Is he gay? He’s gay isn’t he.” I KID YOU NOT. My brain malfunction so I was like after 10 seconds of silence “yea he is.” I for sure can’t remember what the specifics of Harry’s sexuality is. And she was like “is he dating someone?” SO MY BRAIN WAS LIKE “do I start larrying or WHAT?!” and in the end, I was like “yeah with his bandmate for since the beginning of his career” and she was like “but he has a gf?” AND I WAS LIKE YEA UM “yeah its pr, like mutually beneficial contract only” and then she was like what’s the bandmate look like, so your miss girl here pulled up a photo of Louis and the first thing she saw was this article about larry where their faces side by side and the first thing she said “OH THEY LOOK ALIKE” so once again miss girl’s brain malfunction and I was like… “what????” and she asked “how long have they been together?” and so like a loon, I said “um—over a decade.” my little larrie heart busrt a little when she said “Ahh, no wonder.” And then after a few minutes she was like “do I know the women he’s pr with???” and so I listed all the names, miss girl was SHOCKED. but ok, we’re alright and then she was like “Ahh it’s okay if he’s not out. His choice.” CRISTAL HERE GOT DEFENSIVE A LITTLE BECAUSE MY BABIES, THE HORROR THEYVE GONE THROUGH. And so I said, “um—closeting is not his fault??” and she then said “but why does he need all these pr???” and so with the patient of an angel, I told him “do you even know how homophobic the entertainment industry is?????!!!”

Anyways, that’s my short story. My point is, how do you let everyone know you’re a larry in a concert without telling them that you very explicitly? And what do you wear???

ads;kgjha;sdlfkjdas;lfksaj oh my word lmaoooooo i love you and your story lololololol

but also like the random questions at the end hahahaha like do you want a literal actual answer? i hope so cause that's what you're gonna get since i always try to code larrie so people can make the conscious choice as to whether to interact with me or not lollll

so like... at a concert, it depends on which concert you're talking about lmaoooo if it's a harry concert, you wear some louis merch and bring all the rainbows. if it's a louis concert, you wear harry's rainbow tpwk tee and again bring all the rainbows. that...... well i feel like that usually gets the point across lolllll but as for what i wear, again if it's a harry/louis (or in the old days, 1d lol) concert i wear all the rainbows. i have big rainbow, bi, and ace flags so i usually rotate between those, i have my eye makeup and nails usually done in the colors of one of those flag options, and then i'm usually also participating in a rainbow fan project, so i'm then also passing out rainbows. so i am essentially a walking rainbow. i also figure that is like... half the job done, yeah? i still bring rainbows to niall's shows too btw but they are much smaller usually and not as overt. because niall's shows just don't feel the same as harry and louis' lolololol and honestly, who needs to advertise as a larrie at a niall show anyway? hahaha

but yeah. i actually tend to more just try to advertise myself as PRIDE FRIENDLY rather than a larrie specifically, but i did once (or... twice i think actually) wear harry's rainbow tpwk tee to a louis show. and one of them was in detroit in 2022 and louis defo pointed at me a few times because it took me a hot minute to recognize and admit to myself that he really was trying to point at me hahahahaha i'd worn the shirt as a snarky way to get back at an anon that i didn't plan to advertise anywhere and i was never going to let the anon know even... i hadn't planned on wearing it to any of the louis shows, i just brought it to wear with my friends on travel days hahaha you probably don't care about any of this lololol

soooooo does that... answer your question? i hope so haha if not let me know and i'll try not to get so distracted this time ahha

[hummingbird-of-light]

In Our Favor

Part 175

McCoy

McCoy couldn’t help his head swiveling around as they walked to breakfast the next morning.

“Are ye alright?” Scotty finally asked him outside the dining hall.

“Hmm? Sorry,” McCoy said, his face warming slightly. “Just trying to see if I could spot anyone, uh, familiar.”

Scotty frowned for a moment before understanding showed on his face.

“Any luck?” he asked.

“Not so far,” McCoy admitted.

“That’s good then. They’re blending in and maybe no one will notice.”

“I hope so.”

McCoy came face to face with one of the new undercover team as he sat with Uhura and Jaylah in their usual flight simulator.

“In here cadet,” said Lt. Flores behind the trio. They all turned to see him standing with an unknown cadet. Flores had a bit of an exasperated look to his face.

“Cadets,” Flores said. “This is Cadet Greene.” Flores let out a huff of air. “Your sim has an empty seat.”

“Of course sir,” Uhura answered. “Not a problem.”

Greene moved to take the seat behind Uhura. Flores patted McCoy’s shoulder before he exited the simulator.

“I’m Nyota Uhura, this is Jaylah,” Uhura said, introducing them. “And that’s Leonard.”

“Stacey Greene. Nice to meet you.”

McCoy nodded his head politely in greeting, but he held back a sigh. He recognized Greene by sight, but wasn’t sure if Stacey was her real name or not. He should have asked Andre before he had left the night before.

“Why are you joining the class so late?” Jaylah asked bluntly.

“Jaylah!” Uhura scolded gently.

“Oh,” Greene said. “That’s ok,” she said looking at Uhura. “I had some family things happen.” She looked down and gave a sad smile. “I’m just glad they held my place for me.”

“Oh,” Jaylah said with an embarrassed look. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok, you didn’t know. Umm, could you guys help me get up to speed on what we’re doing in here? I’ve studied my texts but that isn’t quite the same is it?”

“Sure,” Uhura said with a friendly smile.

McCoy silently took a deep breath. He knew all of the palace’s security members could fly any type of shuttle. He wondered how well Greene could pretend to not know. He sighed again. He had hoped the undercover team would try to keep their distance. He glanced over at the woman behind Uhura. Had he just not noticed in his earlier classes that morning?

“Leonard?”

McCoy looked up in surprise at Uhura. He had been deep down in his thoughts and frustrations about being under guard again.

“Sorry. What did you say?”

Uhura gave him a light frown. “It’s your turn.” She had unstrapped from the pilot’s seat and turned to face him.

“Ok.” He stood up from his seat and traded places with Uhura.

McCoy strapped himself in and let his hands slowly cross the controls. Suddenly he was more nervous than he had been since their first classes in the simulator. Another set of eyes were on him; eyes that had known him, had protected his family.

The prince closed his own eyes for a moment, then drew a deep breath as he opened them. This was a simple exercise again, just like the day before. He could do this.

“Just Leonard?” Jaylah asked softly. He saw her concern from the corner of his own eyes. He gave a brief nod and focused on the controls in front of him.

Part 176

Scotty

"Well then... we're practicing a few new moves today. Who wants to start?" Lt. Samuels looked from one cadet to another. Most of them shrugged their shoulders and their instructor sighed. "All right. How about Scott and Tallister, our flagship team?"

Scotty exchanged a look with Aporal, who was already taking a step forward onto the mat and rolling his shoulders back and forth alternately.

"Sure. Why not?"

They had become a good team over the last few weeks. Scotty knew that Aporal would never seriously hurt him and that reassured him.

"Aye, sir," the Scotsman replied to the lieutenant and then followed his Andorian friend onto the mat that lay in the middle of the circle of cadets.

"I want you to take a good look, Mr. Wilson, got it? I know you've taken a course in self-defense at some point, but things are different here at Starfleet Academy. So keep your eyes fixed on them."

Scotty's gaze slid to the blond man standing among the other students. Lieutenant Samuels had said that he was a new cadet who, due to organizational reasons, hadn't been able to start his studies until now.

"Of course, Lieutenant." The newcomer nodded.

"So... for our newcomer, please run through the exercises from the last few classes." Samuels clapped his hands encouragingly and Aporal looked at Scotty with a raised eyebrow. The question if he was ready. Scotty nodded.

They started with the first movements and out of the corner of his eye Scotty noticed that Wilson was obviously tensing up a little. The realization hit the Scotsman like a bolt of lightning. The blond had to be one of the undercover people!

Of course. Scotty shouldn't be particularly surprised. He would certainly be monitored in a course like this. He imagined what it would be like when Leonard started his self-defense lessons. His husband would not be particularly enthusiastic, that was for sure.

"Focus, Mr. Scott!" Their instructor's voice brought him out of his thoughts and he quickly refocused on the exercises. He had to show how good he was at fighting by now.

"I thought security had left," Aporal whispered to him as Scotty and he eventually made their way to lunch.

The Scotsman looked at him in surprise and Aporal gave him a meaningful look.

"Come on, I've noticed the looks as much as you have," he said and Scotty sighed. Aporal had long since seen through the whole thing.

"Ye cannae tell anyone, okay?" The Scotsman looked pleadingly at the Andorian.

Aporal shrugged his shoulders.

"My lips are sealed."

And Scotty believed him. He knew that Aporal wouldn't do anything to harm him or Leonard. They would both keep each other's secrets.

"He certainly doesn't fight badly," Aporal said after a brief moment of silence, a grin forming on his lips. "But not as good as me."

During training, the Andorian and Wilson had fought each other. It had looked like a fair and even affair.

"Of course. No one is better than Aporal Tallister." Scotty also had to grin. He was slowly getting used to the arrogance.

When they entered the dining room, most of their friends were already sitting at the table. They quickly joined them and Scotty could tell from Leonard's look that he too must have recognized a member of security already. He didn't look happy.

But before Scotty could say anything to him, Jim spoke.

"So? What do ya say? Who's up for a party tonight?"

[extramachine]

This is a fic I wrote in 2017, I just stumbled on it so I'm posting it as-is without any editing. Also it's been so long I don't remember much about the game, so I can't even tell if any of the characterization is off, but I thought it was cute!

Klaude/Lucette, Delora/Parfait

I sat still on my bed while Klaude sat behind me braiding my hair. His hands were gentle and careful as he moved down. Finally he finished. I turned around and smiled at him.

“Thanks,” I said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. Then I glanced up at the clock on the other end of the room. “Shit! It’s almost two already. And we haven’t even done your hair yet!” I leaped up and started rummaging through the things on my desk.

“Oh, it’s fine,” Klaude said dismissively, still lounging on the bed. “We’ll be fashionably late.”

I glared at him. “We can’t do that to Parfait and Delora. Delora would never shut up about it.”

“Well, you’d better work quickly then!” he said, turning around to let me start doing his hair.

“Fine. Something simple this time.” I thought about what to do for a few moments and settled on the same style I had. We might look a little silly together, but there wasn’t time for anything else.

I stood up and turned him around to face me. “Hmm...” I said critically. “No time for anything complicated with makeup either.” He had already done mine before doing my hair.

“Just do some lipstick,” he said with a shrug. “After all, it’s the most important part of my face,” smirking a little.

“Oh shush,” I said, turning away, but I had to admit he was right. I smiled as I thought of the first time I had helped him with his makeup. It was before our relationship had even started and I barely knew anything about him, not even his real name. He always liked to tease me, and I would get so defensive and blushy. These days I was more used to it, and I found it endearing most of the time. It’s one of the most charming things about Karma, how affectionate and forward he can be. And thank goodness too, otherwise we may never have ended up together after everything. I quickly found a nice shade and carefully applied it. I took another moment to inspect his face and stepped away satisfied. “Alright, let’s go.”

I almost ran out of the room with Karma close behind (“Slow down darling! There’s no need to be in such a rush!”) We almost literally ran into Emelaigne on our way out.

“Hello Lucette! Hello, uh, Klaude?”

“Yes it’s me!” he said, running past. “I just have my hair up!”

“Gender roles are a lie!” I yelled on my way past.

“Okay!” Emelaigne yelled back. “Have fun!”

We went to the Marchen without any guards (although my father would have been upset if he knew) through a secret tunnel that Rod had shown me soon after I came back to the palace.

I sat back and watched as Delora showed Lucette how to do some spells and then helped her through them. I always liked to come see her train. At first, I was worried that it might distract her, but she said she needed to get used to distractions anyway, like I always said. I just love watching her work. She likes to watch me swordfight too, but she often does more than watch. I wish I could do something to help her or participate in this part of her life, but at least I get to chat with Parfait while I’m here. I notice that she is staring at them just as intently as I am.

“Enjoying the performance, Parfait?” I ask/tease.

“It’s wonderful to watch. She makes witchcraft look so...graceful.”

“She? You mean...Delora?” I ask, following her gaze into the other room.

“Oh, it’s obvious isn’t it?”

“I can’t say I ever noticed before...”

“That’s because you were too caught up in Lucette and your curse.” She sighs. “Yes, I really like Delora.”

“Have you told her? Do I have to play the matchmaker again?”

“No, I haven’t told her. I hardly think she feels the same way, and I don’t want to ruin our relationship. Especially when it’s so important that we work together to train Lucette and run the Marchen. It wouldn’t be very professional, would it?”

“Professional? I hardly think the Marchen is a professional work environment. I’ve seen the stuff that goes on here every day. Besides you live here. The Marchen is more than just your work, it’s your home. You have the right to do whatever you want in your own home.”

“I see your point. But I feel so selfish for pursuing my own interests like this. I can’t afford to be distracted by personal things like this when I have so many people to take care of.”

“Well, clearly it’s already distracting you. If you put it out there, you’ll get an answer, and then you can focus completely on your responsibilities. You workaholic. Besides, I don’t think Delora will say no.....”

MEANWHILE:

“Is this right, Delora?” No answer. “Delora?” Lucette stopped focusing on her magic to turn her head and look at her mentor.

“Oh, um, yes, that looks right! You’re making good progress princess.”

Lucette eyed her suspiciously. “Were you...looking at Parfait?”

“What? Yes, I was making sure they were okay over there.”

“Were you checking to see if she was watching you?”

“Lucette! Concentrate, don’t let the spell fade away!” Delora admonished the princess, but her face was pink. Lucette renewed her spell (which was an illusion maybe?) and laughed.

“Delora! Don’t change the subject!

“Well even if I was I’m not about to talk about this to you, so you might as well drop it,” Delora said, turning away.

“Oh, come on, I’m not the ice princess anymore. I got Jurien and Garland together, I can do it again.”

“Lucette, are you trying to get out of your lessons?”

“Delora, are you afraid to admit your feelings?”

“I’m not afraid to admit my feelings!” Delora snapped.

“Awfully defensive, huh? If you’re not afraid, why don’t you go over there and tell her, right now?”

“We’re in the middle of a lesson, princess. Besides, she’s the Lucis bearer. I’ve dated fairies before, but this would just be impractical.”

“You’re a witch, most things you do are impractical. Just tell her, I’m not waiting months this time like I did with Garlan.”

“If it will get you to focus on the rest of the lesson, princess, I promise to say something to her after we’re done.”

“Something is better than nothing, I suppose.” They continue the lesson, etc, blah blah blah.

After the lesson was over, Delora and Lucette walked out to where Parfait and Klaude were watching. Lucette and Klaude walked out of the room to give them some privacy, and then he turned to her.

“Well, I just got them together, so do you want to watch this time?”

“What do you mean you got them together? I convinced Delora to talk to Parfait about her feelings, just like I convinced Garlan.”

Klaude smiled at her. “Well, Garlan didn’t count. I was the one who talked to him about it before you even came to the Marchen. You just happened to deliver the finishing blow.”

“You weren’t making any progress with him before I came and you know it.”

Klaude looked offended/affronted at the suggestion. “Darling, I--” Suddenly he stopped and looked over Lucette’s shoulder. She turned around to see what he was staring at, and saw Parfait in Delora’s arms, both of them passionately kissing each other.

“Ugh, Klaude, don’t watch them,” she said, turning back around and tugging on his arm.

Klaude stared for a few more moments and then shook his head, turning with her. “You’re right, love. They’re like our moms, I can’t watch them.” Lucette laughed as they walked out together, leaving their mentors to figure the rest out themselves.

Delora slowly pulled away from the kiss and stared into Parfait’s eyes. Parfait gazed back, but suddenly broke away as she seemed to realize something.

“Oh! They left!”

“Well I should hope so,” Delora replied, looking toward the doorway. “Although I’m sure Karma wanted to spy on us.”

“I just feel bad if we made them uncomfortable and cut our visit short. We should have--”

“Shush,” Delora said, and planted another kiss on her lips. Parfait sighed. “Don’t feel bad. How many times have they embarrassed themselves being disgustingly sweet in front of everyone? I think we deserve a turn now too, especially after all we’ve given them.”

Parfait sighed again. “I can’t believe this whole time, we both...”

“Frustrating, isn’t it?” Delora’s eyebrows came down and she gently held both of Parfait’s hands. “Still...in a way you were right. If I’d known I could kiss you when Lucette was living here, no one would have been able to find either of us. / I would never have stopped, and the King might be dead right now.”

Parfait gave a little gasp and laughed. “Delora!” she exclaimed.

“It’s true!” Delora smiled and put an arm around Parfait. They both looked around and surveyed the Marchen.

“Back to work then?” she said.

“Oh come on, Parfait,” Delora pouted. “We just started our relationship. Don’t you think we deserve a little time to ourselves? Especially since we have the Marchen empty for a while...”