#also. scout tattoos make an appearance. (do not go looking for them in any other art of him on account of I Forgor)

[chiropteracupola]

a little pain now, to save a great deal more pain later

[flintlock fortress is a collaboration with @dxppercxdxver]

[bnha-free-writing]

Can you do Dabi x reader soulmate au where the reader is a pro hero in training?

Oh, nonnie. Let me tell you about how this prompt just got my creative juices going! Hope you enjoy this!

This Moment

Dabi x GN!ProHero!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Soulmate!AU

Word Count: 2329

Rated: PG-13 for language.

Warnings: MANGA SPOILERS!

A/N: I assigned reader-chan a light quirk, by channeling light, they can create either a sword of light or a healing pulse. They can also use the light to make a shield, which takes a lot out of the reader, and healing drains their own energy.

You’d think that after five years of training as one of Endeavor���s thirty sidekicks, you’d be used to getting your ass handed to you by your senior sidekick and best friend, Kamiji Moe, better known as Burnin. Yet, here you were, drenched in sweat, and (h/l) (h/c) hair matted against your forehead as you guzzled a bottle of water.

“Oi, (Y/N), you done yet,” the fiery woman asks as she stretches, her green, fiery hair making her face seem to light up even more. “I’m ready to kick your ass again! Your hand-to-hand really needs some work!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter, stretching once more before heading back to the mats.

An hour later, you are once again laying with your back against the mats. At this point, you’re sore, and even Moe looks tired behind that cocky grin.

A smile spreads across your face as you speak. “Moe, I’m starting to think you get way too much pleasure in beating me up.”

Moe reaches down to pull you up, before patting your back and handing you your water bottle. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so much fun if you weren’t at least a slight challenge. You’re getting better.”

“If you say so,” you reply with a laugh as you towel off your sweat on the way to the locker room. “You wanna grab dinner at that noodle shop down the street?”

“I’d like to say ‘yes,’ however, I have plans with my girlfriend,” Moe replies, her eyes trailing down to her wrist, where much like everyone else over the age of sixteen, a name is scrawled in fine, black ink.

You remember the day that your soulmate’s name appeared on your wrist. The moment that you saw the name, it knocked the wind out of you. There, against the soft flesh of your inner wrist, sat a name, one you knew better than any other. It was the name of your best friend since you were children, Touya Todoroki. It had been nearly three years since his death, yet there his name sat, mocking you.

It had been so painful, having to remember clinging to his sister at the funeral, internally begging for it all to be a nightmare. Even now, looking at the finely written kanji on your wrist creates a lump in your throat. Having to look at his father hurts like hell too, but you couldn’t turn down the opportunity of working under the number two hero.

“(Y/N)? Are you okay,” Moe asks, her eyes showing concern, shaking you from your thoughts.

“Yeah, the soulmate situation is kinda touchy,” you confess as you walk into a shower stall to clean the grime from training off of your body.

“I know you have said that before, but can I ask why?”

“You know I’ve known the boss since I was a kid, right?”

“Yeah, that’s common knowledge. He scouted you due to your abilities, though it caused a ruffle in the ranks at first, thinking that he was giving you preferential treatment.”

“Well, my soulmate is his son.”

“Natsuo? I feel like little Shouto is a bit too young for you. I don’t see how that is a problem?”

“Neither of them.”

“You don’t mean…”

You can’t see her in her shower stall, but you can hear the concern in her voice.

“Touya… He was my childhood friend and crush. Except, by the time I reached sixteen, he had passed three years prior. I had spent so much time trying to get past his death, only to get hit with the truck that was my soulmate tattoo. I was making all of that progress, only to have it all crumble in my fingers.”

“(Y/N), I am so sorry. I know that’s probably the last thing you want to hear, but…”

“Moe, don’t worry about it. I’ve gone to therapy and I’m basically over it,” you reassure her, though the tiredness in your eyes says otherwise.

The two of you finish showering, then head your separate ways. You opt to head home, settling on cooking your own meal.

As you make your dinner, a pair of turquoise eyes pops into your mind repeatedly. You remember all the times you patched up the burns on his body as children. He had been so determined to keep training, even after he had been informed that his body was not made to tolerate his own quirk. There were nights when he couldn’t sleep and would sneak into your house next door, and into your bedroom late at night, crying into your shoulder, feeling that there was no one else to turn to. The closer it gets to the anniversary of his death, the more he pops into your mind, and the less you sleep.

---

“(H/N),” Endeavor greets, his face as enthusiastic as ever. “I am going on patrol with Hawks today, and I need you to be in the area, in case we need an extra hand. Something just feels off about this situation, so I’d rather be safe, rather than sorry. It’s unlikely that we’ll need you, but…”

“Understood, sir,” you reply. Yesterday was the official Hero Billboard Chart event in Japan, and Hawks was seemingly determined to have a team-up with Endeavor. It wasn’t uncommon for you to be the first person that Endeavor asks to accompany him, seeing as there is a level of familiarity between the two of you. He knows that you follow through, with little to no question on your end.

As you patrol the streets in Fukuoka, you try to shake off a feeling of uneasiness. Usually, you take your duties seriously with an astounding level of calmness, but since you first set foot in the area, you’ve felt as though you were being watched. As you walk by the restaurant that Endeavor and Hawks had entered, you hear a loud crash from above you.

Your eyes shoot to the disturbance, but you feel your body lock up in realization that said disturbance was caused by a Nomu. Not just any Nomu, but this one seems to have a higher level of intelligence, even demanding a battle from the strongest members of society. Shaking off your shock, you jump into action to evacuate the building. A bright flare can be seen from your peripheral, and you let out a slight sigh of relief, knowing that your boss was coherent and fighting that monster.

Once you and Hawks complete the building evacuation, you both race to assist Endeavor. When the advanced Nomu releases lower-ranking Nomu onto the public, Hawks uses his wings to assist you in fighting them off as your light swords take form your hands. You know that Endeavor is overheating, having known the man since you were a child and as you take out the last low-level Nomu, your heart stops as the high-level Nomu lands a direct hit on Endeavor’s face, leaving the man on the ground in the rubble.

You can feel yourself breathe again as Endeavor rises, blood gushing from his face. With your light swords in hand, you push off to fight another low-level Nomu. Once the low-level Nomu are defeated and Endeavor stands victorious, you rush to his side to attempt to heal him as Hawks supports him. Endeavor nods as you release a healing pulse from your hands, trying to lessen the man’s injuries. You’re unable to hear the two men as they speak, as your entire being is focused on healing.

As you begin to feel faint from healing, the three of you are suddenly surrounded by a wall of blue flames.

Dabi, the man calls himself as he takes credit for the previous chaos. He stands tall, dressed in dark hues with black locks and scars covering his body and face. Your eyes meet a pair of turquoise ones as he moves.

You quickly create a shield to protect the top two heroes from Dabi’s fiery attack, and you try to keep it up, until you see Mirko lunging in to fight him off.

“You just keep doing your thing and don’t go dying on me, ‘kay? Enji Todoroki and (F/N) (L/N)!”

You barely register the words leaving the scarred man as he disappears in black liquid and your vision blurs as you collapse to the ground.

---

When you awaken, you find yourself in the hospital, wires connected to your body and exhaustion weighing on your body. You knew that you were overdoing it, going further than you should have to heal Endeavor. But then to put up that shield, you’re surprised that you even woke up. Healing takes your own life energy, which severely impacts your body. Shields are hard on your body as well, so you had used up all your stored light energy and needed time to recharge.

“You’ve been asleep for four days,” the nurse informs you as she takes your vitals. “Your boss was even able to go home yesterday, though that had a lot to do with the healing that you did.”

“Jeez, I’m going to have a lot of paperwork when I get back… And Moe is never going to let me hear the end of this,” you groan, throwing your head back into the pillow.

“Damn right, I’m never going to let you hear the end of it,” your fiery friend calls as she answers, a small bouquet of flowers in her hands. “You’re so reckless, dumbass!”

“I’ll leave you be now. Try to get some rest,” the nurse says as she parts, obviously taken aback by Moe’s behavior.

As soon as the nurse is completely gone, Moe reams you.

“You went too far, (Y/N). Seriously, healing’s one thing, but I could tell that you overdid it before you stopped healing, let alone when you threw up that damn shield. “

“I wasn’t going to let them get more hurt,” you argue.

“I know. You and your extra gotta save ‘em all. Then to add onto it all, that damn villain knew your name!”

“What!?”

“Yeah, as you passed out, he called you and the boss out by name,” Moe confirmed, her voice growing quiet. “That scared me so bad, (Y/N). He knew your name, called it out like it was no big deal. I think he’s got a grudge against you and the boss, specifically.”

“Please, I’m just a sidekick, Moe. It was probably just something to try to rattle us,” you try to reassure her, despite there being doubt in your own mind.

---

When you’re finally released from the hospital, you still feel as though you’re being watched. Even months later, in the safety of your own apartment, you can’t shake the feeling and you double-check all your locks before heading to bed. Turquoise eyes still haunt your dreams, though this time, they’re framed with deep scarring.

You’re barely asleep for an hour before you shoot up in bed, your heart hammering in your chest. You can barely breathe as you make your way to the bathroom, trying to find relief from your nightmares by splashing your face with water.

When you look up to the mirror, your (e/c) eyes meet scar framed turquoise ones. You swing yourself around and try to summon your light sword, but you’re too scared to focus.

“Well, if it isn’t little (Y/N),” his voice cuts to your soul as he eyes you shamelessly. He takes a step forward, but as you step back, you realize that you’re stuck. He smells of smoke and cologne, you note as he moves to pin you fully between his body and the sink.

“W-what do you want from me?”

“Isn’t that the million-dollar question, love,” he replies with a smirk before capturing your face in his hand. You close your eyes, expecting him to just burn you to a crisp, but there’s a light brush to your lips before you’re left standing alone in your bathroom, shaking.

---

You try to shake off the happenings of the previous night as another nightmare, but the fact that you never went back to sleep isn’t helping.

Luckily, it’s your day off, so you try to occupy your time cleaning. Finally, you just settle on watching tv. However, you freeze in place as Dabi’s face takes precedence on the tv screen. He reveals himself to be Touya Todoroki, detailing the kind of monster that his father is. Tears spring to your eyes as the news replays the story from earlier in the day.

He’s still alive?

“So, you understand now?”

The voice shakes you from your thoughts as you whip around to face him for the second time within twenty-four hours.

“T-Touya,” you whisper, voice shaking.

His hair is white now, as opposed to the black that it had been when you saw him last night. This time, you approach him, eyes unable to leave his.

“Hey, (Y/N).”

“What happened to you,” you ask as you stand directly in front of him, tears still running down your cheeks.

“A lot happened,” he mutters, reaching out to grab your hand. His thumb ghosts over your wrist, just where his name is eternally engraved. You look at his wrist, and despite the scarring, you can still see the faintest traces of your own name on his skin.

As if it wasn’t already clear, you know that he’s here for you.

He cups your face in his hands, running his thumbs against your cheeks to wipe away your tears. Blood trickles from the corner of his eyes and you copy the motion, wiping the blood from his face.

He leans into you before pressing his lips to yours. It takes you a moment, but you kiss him back, just praying to stay in this moment.

Just this moment, where there are no heroes or villains, there are no choices to be made.

Just this moment, where you can hold the man you love.

Because you know that when this moment is over, you’re going to have to make a choice.

[americanmoths]

The Everyone Lives Bar Trivia AU

The most remarkable thing about Harry Potter is that he’s very good at bar trivia, the result of growing up around adults obsessed with art [his mom], sports [his dad], literature [his Uncle Remus] and bars [his Uncle Sirius]. Also, he won the quidditch house cup a record five times, is currently being scouted by Puddlemere United and has absolutely perfect skin. Seriously: no blemishes, pimples or scars. But he’s proudest of the bar trivia.

“You’ve assembled a real Noah’s Ark for us today, Potter,” Pansy says as they slot themselves into their normal seat beside Luna. Luna kisses their cheek, and Pansy doesn’t smile, exactly, just looks gloomy in a slightly higher key.

“What does that mean?” Harry asks.

“You know,” Pansy makes a Come On motion with their hand. “Two by Two.”

Which still doesn’t make any sense. Pansy gives an exasperated sigh and clarifies. “Two Gryffindors. Two Ravenclaws. Two Slytherins.”

He looks around at his team, a combination of regular members and new faces. There’s Luna and Pansy, of course, and Ron, who is currently consorting with the enemy — towering over Fred and George’s table in the corner, gesticulating widely about quidditch, one hand clamped around an empty bottle. Hermione and Anthony Goldstein are deep in conversation on the other side of Luna. Anthony’s eyes keep sliding over to Harry, and Harry’s trying to pretend he doesn’t notice. Inviting Anthony was Hermione’s idea, a way to smooth things over between them after their breakup. So far, nothing is smooth, and everything is very, very awkward. Two Gryffindors. Two Ravenclaws.

“There’s only one Slytherin,” Harry blurts out. Pansy roles their eyes and points a white-tipped finger lazily at the bar.

There’s a neon sign glowing Padfoot’s, a pirate flag, a rainbow flag and a long, lean blonde in a black shirt and muggle jeans, his back to their table as he places a green bottle Harry doesn’t recognize in a line of liquors.

“I’m not inviting Malfoy to join our team.”

“You want to win don’t you? I have it on good authority the bonus round tonight is going to be on muggle composers, and Draco’s been taking piano lessons since he was five.”

“He’s working.”

Pansy shrugs. “If anyone can get around that little roadblock it’s you.”

He probably could, but he doesn’t want to. Draco Malfoy is a Pompous Git who grew up spoiled and mean and then had the audacity to go out and get disowned. Which is interesting, and thus frustrating. Sirius won’t give up any details either, outside of blanket support for hiring any and all disgraced purebloods. But Harry’s dying to know what happened and when, exactly, Draco became brave.

“How about you go get me another drink and while you’re up there you can decide if you actually want to win tonight or not. I’m for it, personally. Two Gryffindors. Two Ravenclaws. Two Slytherins. Has a nice ring to it. Symmetry.”

Pansy passes their empty glass to Harry, who gets up — he lost a bet once and now has to refill Pansy’s drink whenever they ask — and starts toward the bar.

“Wait,” Harry says. “What about the Hufflepuffs?”

“I ate the Hufflepuffs,” Luna says, and this time Pansy actually does smile.

“What about me?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Pansy drawls. “You’re the ark.”

Harry can’t work out if its supposed to be a compliment or an insult, but he figures either way he shouldn’t leave Pansy waiting for their drink for much longer.

“Potter,” Draco says when Harry reaches the bar. The blonde pours fire whiskey in a glass and gives it to a burly wizard who winks at him. Draco winks back. Up close, Harry can see the cracks in his appearance. The bags under his eyes, the strands of hair not completely loyal to whatever grooming charm Draco uses, the stain on his jeans. He looks real.

“I need another Merlin’s Ass for Pansy,” he says. Draco turns away from him to grab a bottle, and the sudden loss of his attention is shocking. “AndDoYouWantToJoinOurTeam?”

Draco doesn’t even look at him. “I’m at work. Some of us don’t have parents who will buy apartments for us in Diagon Alley.”

You do, though. What happened? Harry is itching to ask. When did you stop being the person I thought you were?

“Padfoot!” Harry yells. Sirius has one hand wrapped around Remus’s neck as the werewolf flips through notecards with trivia questions written on them. He clocks Harry and gets up.

“Come off it, Potter. If you get me in trouble, I swear—” There’s something like fear on Draco’s face.

“I’m not going to get you in trouble,” Harry says, and then there’s a calloused hand grabbing his shoulder a little too tightly.

“Kid,” Sirius says, addressing Harry. “Something wrong?”

“Everything’s fine,” Draco says. He’s different suddenly, straight-backed and eyes turned down, apparently cowed by an adult who used to let Harry color in his tattoos with muggle markers.

“Can you take over for Malfoy? We need him on the team tonight. He knows piano.”

“You don’t need to,” Draco cuts in. “I know I’m supposed to close. Potter’s just being — Potter.”

“Potters do that. I can look after the bar for a while if it gives Prongs Jr. a shot at actually winning.”

Harry almost pipes up that he wins most weeks, thank you very much, but Draco speaks before he has a chance.

“I don’t want to inconvenience you while your partner’s here.”

“Remus is fine.”

“I — don’t want to,” Draco says, the words stilted and odd. Sirius studies him, then gives an understanding nod. “You can still keep the tips for tonight.

Relief washes over Draco’s face. Sirius walks behind the bar and pushes Draco in Harry’s direction, shoves a drink in his hand. Draco’s so close to Harry now, so real. The whites of his knuckles pulled tight against the glass, the slight jitter of his foot, the uncertainty in his eyes.

Who are you? Harry thinks, and everything about Draco answers: I don’t know. Do you want to help me figure it out?

—

for @drarrymicrofic prompt: flood | ao3 link

[bloodxbat]

(Part 1) Triple W Mafia George x Fem! Y/N series

Warnings: Swearing! that’s it really (unless I've missed something then please let me know)

Word Count: 2,174

Summary:  George Weasley is a renowned Mafia boss who took over from his Father Arthur once he retired, to carry on the Triple W mafia legacy. The only mafia known to be able to keep the Death Eaters (their rival mafia) at bay. However there is one item that they stole from the Triple W’s which George is determined to get back...his mothers necklace, the family heirloom. Y/N Greyback has been forced to comply with the Death Eaters wishes as her family are high up members. What happens when George and Y/N meet? And what happens when they fall in love?

Series Masterlist 

The lights were dim in the what looked like to be an old bar room, the red hue coming from the red lamp shades hitting the walls. Smoke from cigars fogging up the top half of the room barely keeping the floor below visible. At each table there were groups of men, all sitting in perfectly tailored suits, sipping on their glasses of whiskey, laughing and having a good time. At the back of the room however, sat one man, alone. His elbow propped up on the arm of his chair, his finger brushing over his top lip as if he were deep in thought. His other hand held the same glass as every other man in the bar, lazily not caring if it were to fall and smash everywhere.

The man, George Weasley, a tall ginger man who’s eyes were the dark but kind shade of brown. Although seemingly intimidating, George had a kind heart, if he seen someone being attacked or robbed in the street, everyone would end up feeling bad for the attacker by the time George was finished with him. He had no time for the scum who go out of their way to make someone else’s life a living hell in order for them to feel a small, temporary taste for a God complex.

George had only recently taken over the title of the Triple W Mafia Boss, when his father Arthur had decided it was his time to retire and pass over the family ‘business’ to one of his sons. George was one of 6 sons and one daughter within the Weasley family. His identical twin brother Fred was technically supposed to become the next Mafia boss, as he was the older twin. But, he had decided that his brother George was more fit to the job than he was. So, George gratefully took over the role and appointed Fred and his younger brother Ron, to be his sort of ‘Body Guards’ although, of course George was far from needing any form of help when it came to beating or killing a criminal, it was still always good to have a little back up sometimes.

“Hey Georgie, what’s the plan then? What we gonna do about these damn Death Eaters?”

George sat, not moving, deep in thought. ‘What was he going to do about those Death Eaters?’ He has no where to start, the bastards are constantly on the run. He was determined to find their whereabouts however, as they had stolen something very precious to him, his mother’s necklace. The Weasley family heirloom.

-

In a room that was very clearly abandoned and covered in moss and mould, sat groups of men and some women in black cloaks with peculiar pointed hoods. These people, in contrast to that of which the Triple W members, appeared extremely intimidating. The members of Triple W were intimidating,  but these were the sort of people no one would want to encounter in the streets, day or night. There was no smoke from cigars in this small dingy room, there was however and eye watering stench, that was so strong some of the Death Eaters swore they seen a slight foggy green haze floating around the room.

All cloaked members were sitting in a circle all surrounding their leader Tom Riddle, or as he likes to call himself ‘Voldemort’. A tall man (not as tall as George) with black, short curly hair. He wasn’t wearing a cloak like his ‘followers’ but was wearing something that looked more like a bath robe, it was all black of course to fit in with the rest. All were listening in carefully to what he was saying, all apart form Y/N Greyback, daughter of Fenrir Greyback, a man who is considered very high up in the Death Eater mafia. She was sat in the corner, wearing a contrasting blood red dress that hugged all of her curves perfectly. Her Y/H/C hair was curled at the ends in neat ringlets, and she had some makeup on but not too much so she looked ‘dolled up’.

“We all know that the Triple W are cowering out in some fancy old bar, trouble is we don’t know where, I’ve had a few out scouting round the area, unfortunately they have all been caught” Riddle speaks out gesturing and engaging with his followers.

“What do you suggest we do then sir?” Said Fenrir who was sitting right next to where Riddle was parading around the room.

“I say we send out our most valuable member, of course, real them in, make them vulnerable” he smirked

“You don’t mean…”

“Oh yes, but I do, your daughter shall make excellent bate my dear friend, for she wears what Weasley most desires” Riddle finishes

Y/N too busy sat in the corner reading an old book, didn’t even notice that every Death Eater members eyes were on her, all smiling to themselves.

This may actually work, if we send out Y/N who is wearing that incredibly expensive looking, diamond necklace, it may just lure the idiot ginger straight to us” Fenrir laughed.

So their plan was set, send Y/N as bait and hopefully George would follow.

-     George still hadn’t moved from the position he was sat in, he hadn’t taken a single sip of his drink, his eyes focussed and barely ever blinking. He was seemingly ignoring every person who tried to get a word out of him for some sort of plan to take down their Rival mafia. Sure he had killed a lot of spies they had sent out, but he was getting absolutely no leads on where exactly they were coming from, Riddle was smarter than he thought. It seemed he had Death Eaters coming from all over the country in all different directions and disguises. George had to find some way in order to track down where exactly they were based.

The sounds of other members arguing, specifically Fred and Ron who were standing right next to where George was sat, started to sound like a horrible ringing noise, it was driving him insane, how could he concentrate when these buffoon’s were yelling nonsense at each other.

“WILL YOU ALL SHUT UP” He yelled now getting up from his seat and walking to the middle of the smoky room.

“I can’t fucking think when you’re all fighting and arguing with each other on what we’re going to do. I am very aware that those bastards are close to finding us, alright? They’ve gained more members in the past few months than I can count on my two hands. Problem is, they’re coming from all over the country, there is no set direction from where they’re all coming from, meaning that they aren’t coming from their base. This brings us to our next problem, what we’re going to do about it. The only thing I can suggest right now, which I believe may actually be our only two options, is either we leave and find a new base OR we send out multiple people all round the general area of here just outside the boarders of this town where the forests are. Each mile will have two of our members, armed and ready to capture and interrogate anyone that comes from outside the town. This includes anyone who seems innocent to the eye I.e. a mother and child as we all know by now there are families who have been a part of the Death Eaters for years, long enough for them to welcome their children. If you see a mother and child however, you of course don’t attack them straight away, you take them for questioning and more importantly, you look for that damn skull snake monstrosity that they all have tattooed on their left forearm.”

George stands looking between each of his guys trying to gauge what they were thinking by their faces.

“So what’s it to be? Hands up if you think we should move”

No one put their hands up and George smiled knowing that everyone in Triple W are too loyal to the town of Diagon to even consider leaving.

“Good choice boys, now” he rubs his hands together “who’s volunteering to be part of the watch team?”

- Y/N couldn’t believe her ears when she heard the plan to trick Triple W into following her back to the Death Eaters. She also had no idea that the beautiful silver diamond necklace that hung lazily round her neck was the stolen Weasley heirloom.

The actions of her family disgusted her, she knew that what they stood for and what they were doing was wrong, but putting her in harms way all over a stupid rivalry, AND tricking her into thinking that the necklace she had was a gift. She felt so stupid for believing them, Y/N had no options but to accept that she was going to have to go along with their horrendous plan and bait George and other members of Triple W into following her back into her family and Riddle’s evil grasp.

“Perfect” Riddle smiled grimly when Y/N accepted

“But of course, we can’t just lure them in, in one mere night, no, you have to spread this out over the course of a few days. Have him become intrigued by you, follow you a little while. You’ll be staying in a place called the Leaky Cauldron, don’t let him see you in there, it’ll blow your cover. Make sure he only sees you walking through the streets. Got it?”

Y/N tentatively nodded her head

“Good, and then, when the time is right, you’ll lead him straight here. We’ll be in communication with you, don’t let me down”

Y/N shakily made her way to Diagon, bags packed and the necklace still hanging round her neck. She had since changed into a black, silk dress, helping the bright silver of the necklace stand out against the dark colour of her clothes, further, of course to draw George Weasley’s attention.

Once she had settled into her room at the Leaky Cauldron, she was given specific instruction to make sure she wondered round the street at night, as that is most likely when Triple W members will come out from wherever they were hiding.

Y/N took a step out into the cold crisp night air, her heels click clacking off the stone pavements. She couldn’t help but take in the beauty of the town, cobblestone roads winding all through it, the windows on each building slightly askew but somehow didn’t seem out of place. It was as if she were walking through an old victorian town.

Snapping her thoughts back to the task at hand, she pulled her black shawl over her shoulders more and continued to wander aimlessly round, trying to find some form of clue as to were Triple W were hiding.

- George was more than satisfied with the outcome of the meeting they had today. He had 40 people on a list to keep watch each mile surrounding Diagon, meaning that all 20 miles would be covered. They all had their instructions ingrained into their heads and were ready to get to work the next day. Fred and Ron as usual would stay within Diagon with George, communicating to those who were out surrounding the area getting updates and passing round information. George had also decided to send a few extra spies out, including his younger sister Ginny to be on the look out for any Death Eater members who may still be lurking round the town.

George, Fred and Ron made their way out of the old bar room, and onto the streets. George made sure that they each had means of contacting each other. Fred whom George would normally live with, agreed that they each should have their own flats or place to stay in order to cover more of Diagon, and therefore be more accessible to those out in the forest. With their last goodbyes and a few phone calls to book places to stay, the three brothers separated all going in opposite directions.

George headed down the street, his hands becoming slightly red from the cold, and he could see his breath in the air. The dim orange streetlights barely lighting up the path as he walked past the old crooked houses and shops.

Just a George turned the corner he bumped into someone, a woman, dressed in a black dress and shawl.

“Oh I’m so sorry miss, I wasn’t looking where I was going properly, these damn street lights barely light up 2 feet in front of you. Are you alright” George asked looking into her eyes with worry

“I’m perfectly fine, sir, thank you” she smiled back and walked away

But George followed her with his eyes, more specifically he followed her neck, because what was hanging from it made him do a double take. He knew those diamonds from anywhere, they way they glistened brightly in every light. Was that, his mother’s stolen necklace?

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[maaaddiexo]

The Lost Village (The Weeping Monk)

Mainlist | Serieslist

Warnings: none

part 4/4 (4 for now; maybe more after second season release)

-

It felt like hours for the group of three as they waited for the tattooed woman’s answer. She stared at all of them individually, sizing them up. Assessing them. Oddly enough, she stared at Y/N the longest.

“Fine. Blye! Get some blindfolds.”

The man who’d complained stepped forward with multiple strips of cloth in his hand. He wore a smug, sinister smile on his face.

“Not happening,” Y/N insisted. “Blindfolded or not, we’ll be able to track where you take us from where we are.”

“And what’s gonna stop us from blindfolding you?” Blye sneered. “You’re outnumbered.”

“And you’re outpowered.” Y/N lifted her hand, stared at Blye, and as she drew a circle in the air, she said, “Ignis.” A circle of fire immediately appeared around Blye and he screeched. He froze in his place and stared at Y/N. “Yes, I’m a witch. No, I don’t want to hurt you nor do I plan on it. I made a promise I wouldn’t hurt you and I don’t want to break it. But the only reason we came to you was because I saw your village in visions. We need help and we would like you to trust us just as we are trusting you not to take us into a trap.”

Alba lifted her head and contemplated again. “Alright. No blindfolds.”

Y/N lowered her hand and the fire around Blye disappeared. “Thank you.”

“But we still have no reason to trust each other. How do we know you guys won’t hurt us?”

“How about a blood pact?” The Monk suggested quietly. He cleared his throat when Y/N stared at him with a raised eyebrow. “Father Carden gave me full access to the reliquary to learn about the Fey. I read all of the books they had. I remember reading a spell book about types of magic. It mentioned a blood pact.”

“Those were my books he gave you.”

Alba looked at Y/N expectantly. “Can you do it.”

Y/N sighed, “I know which spell he’s talking about. I’ve never had any reason to do it before but I can try.”

“Do it.”

The Monk handed Y/N a small knife which she cut her palm with. Alba copied her with her own blade. Blood pooled in both of their hands. Y/N reached forward and clasped Alba’s hand in her own, as if they were going to shake hands. Y/N felt the familiar tingle and watched as a white glow began to emanate from between their palms.

“Alliges duplicia sanguine.” She retracted her hand and saw that her hand was still bleeding. She fisted her hand, saw it glow again, and when she opened her hand, the wound was healed completely.

“How do we know it worked?” Blye asked. Y/N tooked back the blade the Monk had given her and used the tip to prick the pad of her right thumb.

“Shit,” Alba cursed and there, on the pad of her right thumb, was a spot of blood.

“Whatever happens to me, happens to you, and vice versa. I’ll undo it when we leave.”

“Then let’s get this over with,” Alba grumbled. She turned around and walked away from them. “Come on, now.”

The Monk was helped back onto their horse and they were led through the forest, the fireflies still buzzing overhead. Y/N didn’t even know they’d arrived at the Lost Village until Alba said so. The village was so well disguised. The village was not on ground level. A few of the Lost Villagers climbed up the trees and disappeared into the night, but most disappeared between two large boulders covered in moss.

“You live underground.”

Alba nodded as they descended the makeshift set of stairs down into the ground. “Despite being smaller than most Fey villages, our tunnels are extensive. If the Red Paladins ever found our village, they’d never be able to follow us through the tunnels. Only the Scouts are above ground during the day. Even though the Red Paladins don’t come out here, we believe it’s safer to sleep during the day and work during the night.”

“It’s really smart,” the Monk praised. “The dirt makes it harder to smell you out when you’re underground.”

Underneath the ground, the tunnels were high enough where none of them had to crouch. Every few feet, alcoves had been carved to hold torches. Alba informed them that most of the villagers were in what they called the Hive, but they still passed a few people in the tunnels.

“Not all of them are Fey,” the Monk noted.

“Yes, a few are human. Some were kicked out because they were born with the mark of the devil or dark gods while others chose to leave because they sided with the Fey.”

The single tunnel branched out into a web of tunnels and Alba took a hard left. Having had to leave the horse above ground, Y/N and the Monk were a little way behind the group, but Alba walked slowly enough for them to keep sight of her. She stopped and pointed to a long room on the right of the tunnel hallway.

“This is the infirmary. Mary is the nurse working at the moment. Find an empty cot and she’ll come find you in a moment.”

There was an empty cot not too far from the entrance and the Monk collapsed in it. Immediately, Squirrel and Y/n began removing his weapons and cloak. His clothes were stuck to his body with dried blood, and when she pulled his hood back, she saw that the right side of his hair was matted with blood too.

“How do I look?” the Monk asked in a teasing tone.

“Like shit,” Squirrel replied honestly. He didn’t even miss a beat. Y/N laughed loudly and pushed the Monk’s hair out of his face. Beside the bed was a bowl of water and a dry cloth. She wet the cloth before dabbing at his head wound. Squirrel undid the tie at the top of the Monk’s shirt but then shrugged and cut his shirt up to take it off.

“Damn, I liked that shirt.”

“You also once liked the idea of burning a cross into your head. Soon enough, you’ll renege on your appreciation for it.”

“Was that an insult?”

Y/N only smiled. “How’s your side?”

“Something tells me it ain’t pretty.” The voice was new, and in the entrance, a short round lady stood smiling. Her long, braided hair had been pulled up into a tight bun and there was blood on the white apron tied around her neck and waist. “I’m Mary. I’m a healer.”

“I’m not a healer, but I can heal him,” Y/N said. “I just need to make the poultice.”

“You need to rest first,” the lady argued politely. “You’re welcome to sleep on the empty cots, and I’ll take care of him until morning.”

Y/N didn’t feel comfortable leaving the Monk in the hands of strangers – even though it was her idea to come to them – but the Monk’s hand on hers and his weak but sure nod were enough to push Y/N to her feet and over to the empty cot beside his. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

***

Y/N had no idea what time it was or how long she’d been asleep when she finally woke up. Squirrel was still asleep in the cot across from hers. Sluggishly, Y/N turned to see the Monk sitting up in bed, picking at a stark white bandage on his wrist.

“Don’t pick at it.”

The Monk dropped his hand and smiled at her. “Mornin’.”

“How long was I asleep?” Y/N rubbed her eyes and sat up.

“A day, I think. I slept for a little bit but the medication Mary gave me wasn’t very strong.”

“Here. Let me help.” Her bag was tucked underneath her cot and on the floor between their cots, she mixed an elixir in her pestle and mortar. She held the Monk’s head as she brought the mortar to his chapped lips. “This will help with the pain. I can apply a paste that will speed up the healing, but I’m not a good enough witch to fully heal them. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Y/N.”

It didn’t feel okay to Y/N. Silently, she washed the mortar in a bowl of clean water and sorted through her bag for the proper ingredients. Together, they were ground into powder and then a paste when she added honey.

“A binding agent,” the Monk concluded. Y/N could see the pride in his eyes as she unwound the dressing around his wrist. The wound had been cleaned and wasn’t bleeding. With a clean hand, she applied the paste to the cut and then redressed the wound. After she was done applying the paste to his other wounds, she asked,

“You think you can walk?” The Monk nodded and after Y/N helped him up, she went to wake Squirrel, not wanting to leave him behind. “Come on. Let’s explore.”

With the medication and Y/N and Mary’s healing work, the Monk could already put a little more weight on his bad leg, but still clung to Y/N. They turned down a tunnel and felt a flitting breeze. In that short moment, he got a whiff of Y/N and thought she smelt nice.

“Do you hear that?” Squirrel asked, stopping in the tunnel. “Listen.”

Echoing through the tunnel from somewhere a head of them, they heard what sounded like a drum.

“Is that…music?”

“I haven’t heard music in years,” the Monk said longingly.

“Let’s go!” Squirrel exclaimed and ran ahead, following the beat of the drum. The soon found a set of stairs that brought them above ground. Immediately, they knew they were in the Hive. Above them, tree branches had woven to create a full-proof roof, but light still managed to filter in. Around them, people danced and laughed. What they thought was a drumbeat was actually the sound of people stomping their feet.

Alba walked up to them with a wooden cup in her hand. “Glad to see you on your feet again. You’re looking much better,” she said to the Monk.

“Mary was very kind. Thank you for letting us stay.”

“It won’t be forever,” Alba warned. “I won’t put my people in danger.”

“We understand. Still, thank you for offering what you have. It means a lot.”

Alba nodded and turned to walk away, “Enjoy the party.”

Squirrel had gone off to dance and Y/N helped the Monk to an empty spot on a bench. They sat and watched the people dance for a while, and at some point had accepted fruit that had been offered to them.

“The Red Paladins never had events like this,” the Monk said randomly. “I don’t think I’ve even seen the humans this happy during jousting events and such.”

“It’s quite beautiful, isn’t it?” Y/N said and rested her chin on her palm. She watched the different Fey and marked humans dance together in perfect unison and smiled at how quickly they had accepted Squirrel. “I’ve never seen anything like it either.”

“If I wasn’t so injured, I would ask you to dance.” Y/N blushed and admitted she didn’t know how to dance. “Maybe one day I could teach you.”

The girl smiled brightly. “I would like that.”

The Monk stuck out his hand and slipped hers into his to shake and confirm the deal. But it wasn’t a confirmation handshake.

“Hello, I’m Lancelot.”

[theroomofreq]

Personality Before Punctuality

In honor of #Jilytober2020 I decided to rewrite this fic from four years ago! It’s a meet-cute Muggle Au because I am a sucker. 

AO3

Lily was lucky, she thought, that her boss adored her to no end. Horace Slughorn owned The Hallows bakery where Lily was recently hired. Her interview lasted all of two minutes before Slughorn announced, “You’re a real gem Miss Evans. It would be a shame not to have you in our midst here at The Hallows.”

Lily was an hour late on her first day but somehow, she charmed the unnaturally stiff bakers to love her, they had to kick her out of the kitchen though.

Lily Evans had many talents but fell short –extremely short- when it came to baking. She did much better as the face of the store greeting and assisting customers. Lily still arrived late every day two months into the job. It was also every day that her personality came to the rescue with a witty joke and a smile.

personality before punctuality. personality before punctuality.

Lily rehearsed the mantra in her mind over and over again as she bustled through the crowds. She was going to be late again, and if she didn’t have something hilarious to say those bakers would really take the mickey.

Her walk to the bakery was usually busy about this time, and almost all of her fellow commuters would gather together before one street crossing.

Lily doubted there was a time that this place wasn’t crawling with pedestrians. The traffic light here had a sick sense of humor, it always made Lily late. In fact, it made everyone late. Her watch turned to 09:11 and the scowl on her face intensified with each passing second. 09:12. Lily turned her glare up to the light again and sighed. Instead the face of a crooked nosed man interrupted her view of the offending light. Due to her bad morning ‘tude she managed to deepen the glare, and Mr. Nose snapped to face forward.

Honestly.

Lily shook her head at the ill-mannered man, that small shake of her head brought her attention to the persons to the right of her. All of whom were blatantly staring at her, with strategic accuracy she sent a glower in their direction.

The whole situation seemed uncanny to Lily and particularly creepy. As she whipped her head round and around the crowd, she found almost every person to be staring at her. 

By the third time she sent daggers to a gawking bunch of teens she noticed there was only one person who wasn’t staring directly at her. It happened to be the bloke directly to her left.

She couldn’t gather much from his appearance, because hello staring is rude, only that his right arm was lined with tattoos. The man seemed not to notice nor be bothered by the fact that everyone was apparently obsessed with Lily today.

So, she decided to inform him of the situation, “By the way everyone is staring you’d think they’d never seen a red head before.”

Tattoos let out a low chuckle before he said, “Honestly. People these days.”

“They are starting to flock like vultures.”

“Look out,” he gasped, “that girl at 2 o’clock might get drool on you if she comes any closer.”

Lily shifted closer to him before she said, “If this goes on, I might be able to start charging for autographs.”

Tattoos choked a bit, “Well err,”  Nervous. He sounded nervous; Lily could work with nervous. “I do hope I could secure your autograph before prices skyrocket.” He finally managed.

Lily smirked and turned to face him before replying, and the tables turned. Tattoos wasn’t marked on his right arm, but on his left arm as well as his neck- Lily choked.

His neck was inked from the base to the edge of his jaw, with a stag’s antler.

Tattoos was not just tattoos, he was famous.

James Bloody Potter.

Lily was not the type to be star struck, really, she wasn’t. But let’s be real.

James Bloody Potter.

Lead guitarist to The Marauders, a band that recently rose to fame. Lily loved their sound and their original lyrics, and it seemed that a lot of others in London did too. And it might help that each member was exceptionally fit. James Bloody Potter included.

His hair was a right mess, his curly locks were inky and seemed stubbornly stuck in a messy mop atop his head. Did Lily mention the tattoos yet? They should be high on the list. Really high. His specs were important to notice too, they didn’t exactly seem to be the type found on a rockers face. But somehow Potter had them tilted at just the right angle that it didn’t matter.

So, go ahead sue her, she’s a bit enamored with a terribly fit guy in a band who’s smirking down at her.

Deal with it.

Seeing him came as a bit of a shock, it wasn’t exactly every day Lily ran into a witty guitarist on the way to work.  It definitely wasn’t every day that she spoke with famous attractive men. Hopefully she could change that.

It took her a moment to realize she needed to reply, “Perhaps we could work that out” she tried to add on a smirk, but undoubtedly failed.

James Bloody Potter. She could stare at him all day.

OH.

oh oh oh oh oh.

Shit.

Lily suddenly caught on. No one had been staring at her.

They’d been staring at him.

James Bloody Potter.

The famous musician from a up and coming band. The ruggedly handsome man next to her was catching all the attention, not her.

Apparently, her ego was unnaturally high today.

It wasn’t her at all, it was the bloke to the left of her. Lily was turning redder with each new thought.

She was so wrapped up in the embarrassment of her blunder it took her a second to realize that Potter was talking, “Ever think about getting a bodyguard? I hear those are dead useful.”

Only barely recovering Lily said, “Not really.” She gestured vaguely around her, “This is all new to me. I was hoping to be sneaky.”

“Just between you and I,” he said behind his hand, “Sneaky doesn’t seem to be working.”

Lily rolled her eyes, “Like you’d be doing any better.”

Potter threw his head back laughing, “Love, in my experience it’s usually the drastic measures that handles these things best.”

Lily heard the shuffle of footsteps and reluctantly pulled her eyes from him. The light had switched, and her fellow pedestrians were moving to cross. Lily took a step forward with the crowds and turned back to Potter. But he was gone, she looked ahead to see him surging ahead in the crowd, pushing and shoving to the front.

“Drastic?” Lily called after him.

The guitarist sent a nod over his shoulder to her before turning completely around to walk backwards. His hands shot into the air as he announced, “Alright people. I know Red here is devastatingly attractive,” Lily felt her jaw drop. “But all this staring is a bit excessive. So, if you all could kindly go back to your business that would-”

“Oi,” Lily interrupted, “Don’t think I don’t see you two trying to snap a photo.” She sent daggers to the two girls about to record Potter’s display, “I’ll be having none of that.”

In response Potter sent Lily a grin, “Yes ladies, sorry, she will be having none of that today.”

At this point the commuters safely crossed and started making their way down 12th, “Thank you all very much. Have a beautiful day!” he yelled out to them with a wave and a smile.

Lily continued straight instead of turning with everyone else, the bakery was just ahead, and was pleased to see that Potter did the same.

“I don’t think I’ll be needing a bodyguard as long as you stick around,” she said. 

“Well,” he pulled his hand up to splay across his chest, “I do specialize in the drastic and dramatic.”

Lily laughed, she supposed it had worked, he earned credit for that. Not to mention the fact that it was the most entertaining thing that happened to her all week. 

“Shall I scout ahead then?” He asked her.

Lily turned to face him with a quirked eyebrow. “What?”

“Scout, ya know. Race ahead determine if the area is safe. It’s what I think a bodyguard might do.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, somehow, she didn’t quite believe any bodyguard would race at all. But there was something about this Potter fellow that made her curious. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

A small smile appeared on his lips before he spoke, “Err, I was actually supposed to turn back on 12th.” He began to card his fingers through his hair while he watched the ground below.

“Ahh. I see.” Lily could feel the ridiculous nature of her smirk, “Go on then. Scout ahead.”

Potter’s head snapped up at that last bit, pulling his hand out of his hair and into a salute he said, “Copy that,” and took off.

He ran straight down the walk and into a collection of people, Lily figured a good scout would have ran around them in order to avoid detection.

Potter was not a good scout.

He took on the group by twisting and turning between each person. As he completed a full rotation he called out, “Spin move!” Lily was positive that spin moves were not stealthy enough for a scouting bodyguard, although his efforts did make her lips tug upwards.

After making his way through the disgruntled bunch Potter took off in a dead sprint, blowing right past the bakery. It was then that Lily decided that James Potter was the biggest dork she had ever met in her life.

He skidded to a stop a few paces past The Hallows Bakery and approached a lamppost. Lily laughed as he began to slink around it. His back pressed flush against the pole he slowly lowered his legs into a squat and made his way around to the other side. To him the movement was athletic, sneaky, and clever. To Lily it was ridiculous, unnecessary, and hilarious.

Lily shook her head as Potter took off once again down the walk, in a fashion that was none to sneaky, her head movement caused her to realize she too had passed the bakery. She wasn’t sure what exactly had distracted her from missing the bakery just a few storefronts back, she just knew she was later than ever.

personality before punctuality. personality before punctuality.  

“POTTER!” Due to the fact that he was still sprinting away Lily determined he hadn’t heard her. “HEY POTTER.” She yelled again, this time she caught his attention, he whipped around with an eyebrow raised at her. Lily simply jerked her thumb over her shoulder then turned back toward at the bakery. Potter dropped his brow and ducked his chin as he ran to catch up to the red head. Lily heard his chest heaving as he fell into step beside her.

“Took it a bit far that time, eh Potter?”

“Never can be too careful love,” his hand was in his hair again. “That lamppost looked rather shifty to me, had to check it out.”

Lily couldn’t bite back her smile. “That’s exactly the type of dedication I’d like to see in a full-time scouting bodyguard.”

“Aye aye Ma’am,” his hand snapped toward his hair, but remained solid in his salute.

Lily snorted into her laugh at his attempt to hold still. As she glanced sideways his salute broke to run his hand down through his hair. Unfortunately, along with the glance to Potter she realized they had come upon the bakery again. Lily stopped and began gathering enough charm to hopefully make up for her tardiness.

personality before punctuality. personality before punctuality.

“Err…could you perhaps, well if you don’t,” Potter’s stuttering pulled Lily back to the guitarist in front of her, “I was hoping. Well as long as it’s all right. It would just be such a shame.”

“Potter. Get on with it already.”

“Can I getyourautograph, it might not seem like it but I really do-”

Lily stopped him with a sigh, “Fans, can’t escape ‘em.” She held out her hand, “Got a pen on you?”

His eyes lit up with his grin, “Funny you should ask that,” he said, “Recently I acquired the habit of carrying one around with me.” One hand went to rub his neck while the other sank into his back pocket and produced a black marker.

“Fancy that,” Lily hummed as she took the marker from him and uncapped it. Lily reached out and snagged Potter’s wrist and ran her eyes around his inked arm trying to find a spot for herself. Finally, she settled on a blank section along the inside of his forearm. Lily held fast onto his wrist as she wrote her name along his arm, ensuring to take up as much surface area as possible.

Lily Evans.

“Wouldn’t mind if you put a number to that name love.” His smirk was audible in his request.

“Don’t push your luck Potter.”

“Course not,” he began. Lily pulled back from her handy work, capping the marker before she turned it back to her fan. His eyes lingered on her name a bit too long before he pulled his eyes up, “Evans.”

Lily couldn’t hold back her smile as he looked down at her with wide eyes.

“Wear a hat next time,” she said as he returned the pen to his pocket. “Perhaps that might prevent the need for drastic measures.”

Potter looked gob smacked, “And ruin my hair? Not a chance.”

Lily shook her head at him as he plowed through his hair yet again.

“Whatever Potter,” she dropped the line from the corner of her smirk, spinning toward the doors.

As she reached for the handle, she caught a, “S’later Evans.”

Lily didn’t need to turn around to know there was a huge grin on his face, but she did anyway. However, the grin wasn’t pointed her way, instead it faced down on his arm where she had left her name. And if it was that grin of his that made her so exceptionally late to work that day, then perhaps she would like to be delayed by James Potter far more often.

[shesawriter39049]

|AFTER HOURS| M|

Pairing: Namjoon X OC 

About-  Your husband and business partner finds you up way past acceptable work hours for the 3rd night in a row! So, daddy has to step in and remind you that’s not something we do in this household. You come before work, in every sense of the phrase!

OR- Namjoon and yourself run a successful Adult Film Entertainment Company called “Onyx” with your 5 best friends from college who you also happen to be in a open relationship with! Your in desperate need of a 2nd videographer/editor! So here you are, up at 1 AM scrolling through resumes because your that boss that hates to overwork her employess so she overworks herself!

Warnings:Daddy kink, Dom Namjoon, switch OC (More of a sassy/bratty sub)Top OC, Oral (F recieving) Light ass play, (Rimming), Dirty talk, Breath play, Spanking(Pain kink),Hair pulling, unprotected sex, light cum play, VERY LIGHT degration (He calls her a “little bitch” once but it’s playful still noting in case it offends ppl)The end hints at a threesum…...with a certain redhead 

Tae is their sassy exec.assistant and makes a cheeky little appearance at the end.

Jonnie baby is tatted...LORDT

There a fun freaky little couple...

WC:6k

NOTE- This is kinda old and  was set to be part 1 of an OT7 AU called “7 DEEP” 

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

  “Really?” Goddamn, leave it to Namjoon to make one word sound just as sexy as it was intimidating! 

You heard the footsteps fuck you did, you just opted to ignore them and hope maybe he’d just, I don’t know leave? Maybe he was just doing a wellness check? But, if that’s the case, as your tired, unfocused, half-lidded gaze caught the bottom right of your laptop screen, which was glaring back at you something vicious! You realize that you’ve royally fucked up, and its a cute little 2 am right now! So no, he’s not going any damn were, anytime soon….

“Baby” The word left his lips just as much disappointment as it did allure which is a hell of a combination I know, I know, but in all honesty, it fits the mood. You caught his visual briefly through the mirror mounted against the wall and fuck, your man is fine as all hell! Frame resting casually against the entryway, arms folded firm across the smooth chiseled planes of his caramelized tattooed chest. Oversized cat-eye glasses perched on top of that cute little button nose of his, A pair of loosely fitted sweats sitting low against his v-lines, the thin grey fabric left nothing to the imagination as he’d clearly opted against boxers tonight. Shoulders and arms flexing effortlessly due to his current position which screams nothing but “Your ass is in trouble”. Which I mean, your kinda here for...kinda not….

Only offering a low hum in response as you continued scrolling through mounds resumes and video reels that were currently clogging up the admin email that was typically reserved for Taehyung. And that’s when you hear his feet shuffle closer, and closer until there’s a heavy yet comforting weight pressing against your back. The temperature around you shifting, as he leans down, arms braced on the table on either side of your frame. His long, beautiful, veiny fingers pattering idly against the glass, showcasing an array of rings, one of them being his Cartier wedding band as his lips nuzzling into your neck. Nosing up and down your skin slowly, almost teasingly, just breathing you in until your shifting back against him, a strong chill running down your spine. 

“We talked about this…” Voice low, seductive, yet stern and still clearly a little disappointed...nipping at your neck, not hard enough to leave a mark but just enough to make a point. Forcing yourself not to lean back into his touch no matter how bad you wanted to beg for more than just him grazing his teeth along your skin! You needed him to bite, hard, and he already knows it too, how much you get off on being marked..and that’s exactly why he’s not doing it...The little shit! 

“I know but -” Namjoon reaches up to slam your laptop shut, sliding it and the stack of papers to the opposite end of your dining room table, that you’ve managed to convert to a makeshift office. 

“We talked. About this” Simply parroting the words again, just slower this time as if to say you clearly must not have heard him correctly initially.

You sigh. Deep, slow, defeated, a nod rendering, out as a half-arsed response triggering Namjoon to pull back from you only to slide your chair from beneath the table. Shifting it to face him before dropping to a squat between your thighs. Gaze unwavering as he took in your blatantly exhausted appearance, still, he couldn’t help but melt as he reached out to caress your jaw feeling the way you nestled into it instantly. Your eyes fluttered shut briefly, as he smoothed his hands down your body, slipping beneath your robe to gently massage your thighs.

“So what the fuck, are you doin?” Brow arched as if he was daring you to actually respond, yet there wasn’t a single sharp edge to his voice, it was suddenly soft, calm. As if he was genuinely asking why you were doing this to yourself because he can’t make a lick of sense of it! You’re barely able to hold your eyes ajar right now yet you were out here working....

You couldn’t really handle the intensity of his gaze right now, more so because you knew he was right, you were so fuckin exhausted right now it’s unreal! Let’s also mention that the two of you have to catch a flight to Vegas for a business meeting in a good oh I don’t know 7 hours! So, instead of acknowledging that this was really stupid, you opted to reach for the one resume he didn’t manage to move out of reach. Eyes nervously scanning the paper as a distraction while you tried to think of a rational that even you’d believe at this point! 

'Fuck, we just- I don’t know Joon, we just have so much going on right now! And you know I’ll never complain about us having too much work I mean, I'm grateful every damn day that we’re not where we were!”

You intentionally paused, letting “that” have its own moment because it's something to always be acknowledged! The two of you went from living in a 900sq ft apartment with 5 other people to effortlessly clearing 8 figures as of this last tax year. Humbled and grateful to be busy isn’t even the beginning of how you feel! 

“But I just look at everybody...Yoongi’s responding to emails at fucking 3 AM! Jimin playing around docusign at the ass crack of dawn every damn day sending out contracts! Taehyung up scouting locations at 6 AM on a Sunday which is supposed to be his only day off I just- Everybodys in over their head so I thought I’d just- “ Namjoon reached up and grabbed your chin, snatching the paper out of your hand and forcing you to look him dead in the eyes. 

“So thought you'd overwork my wife instead?” 

You just shrug and nod again, tossing your hands in the air, it’s clear you have an attitude but it’s also clear it’s with yourself! You keep piling more and more on your plate instead of delegating it out to other people to handle! It’s a trust thing, and Namjoon know’s that,  it started out with just the two of you, then for years it was seven , seven deep. It’s hard for you to let new people into something you and your husband built from nothing! However, Taehyung just got a part-time assistant of his own so he can go back to strictly being your right hand, and realistically, he’s salary! Your little Gucci boy probably doesn’t mind drinking his Starbucks and driving his BMW around LA looking for houses to film in! You could have spread the workload out a little you just fuck, I don’t know, you’re always that person to put people first to a fault I guess! Point being, Tae could easily handle this, tomorrow, during normal business hours, you could have and should have been in bed with your husband! 

Namjoon can sense how uneasy you feel right now, almost like your a child being scolded and that’s not at all what he’s aiming for; he's just genuinely concerned. So he opts to ease the atmosphere just a little to remind you, that the two of you are always on the same playing field, he’s only reacting like this because he cares! Flicking the bottom of your chin before leaning in, pressing a firm, yet passionate kiss to your lips as if he’s trying to drive the point home, slipping his tongue past the seam almost instantly. Not even attempting to keep this somewhat chaste, needing you to feel every inch of infinite love and fire he has burning through his veins when it comes to you! Kissing you with enough force to knock the wind out of your chest, moaning contently as you give your husband free rein to explore your mouth. Turning the kiss slightly more delicate as he lets his hands slide even deeper under the robe to continue roaming your body. The slide of his tongue becoming softer, slower….as the pads of his fingers trickled up your spine.

Sucking your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls back “Were all busy baby, I get it, I hate seeing them like this too, you know I love them just as much as you do! And that’s exactly why we put out those ads, but that does not mean you get to take on everyone else’s shit! Don’t make me put in a complaint to HR about unfair treatment within the workplace!”Murmurs against your lips, as you stare down at his, barely paying attention to a damn thing he said! 

“Joon I am HR…” You mumble low and unamused, eyes rolling to the back of your head in annoyance and he could give less than a damn. Leaning in with a smirk playing on his lips, leaving another lingering kiss against your own. Kissing you with enough fire to have every hair along your body standing on end! Until your practically chasing after him in a pout the minute he pulls away from you. 

“Mmm, and my point still stands….” Namjoon's hands tighten around your hips, scooting you forward so your legs are wrapped around his waist. Your arms instantly lace around his neck, trailing your fingers upward, so they can get lost in his freshly dyed locks.

“Stop, overworking my baby! You know I don’t like  it…” His delivery was just as much playful, as it was stern! 

“Fuck, whatever okay, sorry!” You really weren’t at least not right now, there wasn’t a lick of conviction in that as you reached up to bring his lips back down to yours. Sliding in tongue first, capturing his lips in another opened mouth kiss, the rhythm quickly starts getting messy more so on your end because you’re getting needy! Namjoon tastes intoxicating and you’re blissed out of your mind, even after all these years, this man can still manage to have your toes curling with just a simple kiss! , Arching forward giving him easier access to grab you ass and he takes the hint, the faint sting of blunt nails digging into the swell of your ass has you whimpering out low and filthy against his tongue.

The kiss breaks much to your dismay but before you can even protest Namjoons tongue is lapping down the side of his neck, mapping out all the places he’s learned over the years. Nipping down on your flushed skin ever so often this time he’s biting with a purpose though, giving it to you just the way you like it. 

“Y/n were done with work now right??” He can hear you panting out low and wanton into his ear once he attaches himself to the crook of your neck, sucking maliciously, an almost animalistic growl leaving his lips in the process. There’s a hint of frustration mixed in with arousal dripping off his tongue right now, your too caught up to notice! 

“Namjoon '' You breathe out his name with nothing but lust pouring off your tongue, not an ounce of shame insight in regards to how needy you sound right now. The sound goes straight to Namjoon’s dick which is beaming at you like a spotlight through the thin fabric of his sweats. Tilting your head back, and anchoring one of your hands into your husband’s hair keeping him in place, overwhelmed with pleasure as you go completely pliant under his menstruations. Regardless, this man's self control was somethin’ serious,and he wasn’t giving in just yet...you still had one more cross to bear baby girl! 

“Fuck. Please” Tugging on his scalp like the brat you tend to be, as if to emphasize your point, making Namjoon pull away licking up your jaw in the process. The drag was slow, messy, waving his tongue against your skin the same way he would your pussy and you felt yourself start to involuntarily clench harder and harder by the second. 

“Hmm? What was that baby?” Tugging the shell of your ear between his teeth hard enough to make you whimper into his hair “Now you wanna come to bed?” You can feel him smirking against your skin and you just really don’t like your husband at all right now just so we’re clear.

All you do is whine in response, yanking his hair even harder until you feel a firm hand land on your ass making you yelp out of your seat. 

Nam-fuck!” Hissed through clenched teeth, thighs tensing around his waist. 

“So again…” Tone as coy and casual as can be as he winds his hand back only to land smack dab on the curve of your ass again, right in the same spot, you wouldn’t be surprised if his palm left an indentation behind! 

Namjoon’s hand was literally pulsing against your skin the impact was so damn strong, all the metal dancing along his fingers didn’t help either! You swear the ripple echoed throughout your entire apartment, and the scream that left your throat was without a doubt noise complaint worthy! Fuck your gonna need to send them an edible arrangement or somehing, they already hate the two of you as it is… 

Your panting and whining opened mouth right into his ear, and it’s getting you nowhere but horny and frustrated! Nails, digging little crescents into his shoulders as you try and almost reroute so of the pain that’s buzzing through your veins. But it’s good, it’s soo good, the slickness coating your inner thighs gave that away! Namjoon can smell how much you’re enjoying this, his little pain slut as he often likes to call you! 

 “You wanna stay out here all damn night. Work yourself into the ground. Leave me in bed alone, and now all of a sudden you think you get to boss daddy around? Hmm? Just because your pussys nice and wet and your feelin needy ...now you want to go to bed?” Namjoons tone is blatantly taunting and a little harsh yet the slight growl laced with it all has your head spinning far too fast to even be mad.

‘Oh my god, Namjoon just fuck me already! Shit!” 

“Why the fuck should I do that? Could’ve had me hours ago baby, all I wanted to do tonight was fuck you, that’s all I wanted all damn day.” Slipping his hand between your thighs pinching your clit between his fingers, slowly rubbing the pads of his together on either side, stimulating your clit head-on until your groaning into the side of his neck.”Do you even, know, how hard it was for me not to just bend you over the conference room table today!?” 

“Joon” You try again and he doesn’t budge, he actually let’s go of your clit all together and just teasingly trailing his fingers along your entrance never entering just driving you fucking insane! Looking as fine and unbothered as ever, as his lips ghost up the curve of your jaw. 

“Hmm, let’s try this shit again.Why-” Bringing that same hand up to grip your jaw with enough pressure to indicate he wasn’t fucking around anymore. “Should I give you what you want when you continuously keep disobeying my only request? Hmm???” You can feel your own slickness against your skin, yet all you can focus on is the blatant aganer, and hurt running through your husbands veins. Even beneath all this bravado..he’s clearly really hurt about this, so play times over!

“Fuck, okay!” There was slight elevation to your voice, tetoring on yelling actually. The arch in Namjoons brow said you had about two seconds to fix that , but you already planned on it! Taking a deep slow breath, letting your eyes flutter shut to just...recenter yourself for a moment! 

“Baby, I’m sorry. I’m. Sorry. ” There it was, not that bratty whiney shit you did earlier to get what you wanted, a genuine “I’m sorry” . Soothing your nails through his scalp, it’s almost instantaneous the way his demeanor shifts once those words fall off your tongue in a more..sincere fashion.  

A low hum rang in the back of his throat at the admission, nosing at your cheek “Sorry for what exactly? Because I don’t want it if you doing this just to appease me baby. That won’t do shit for me. ”  Namjoon’s tone is a lot softer now, all of the prior theatrics and pettiness is gone as he awaits your response.

“No, Joonie baby, no!” Pressing a soft but firm kiss to those sinfully plump lips of his that you still can’t get enough of no matter how many years go by…”No”

“ As your partner, I gotta look out for me just as much as I look out for you and I clearly haven’t been! I know better! And I should be taking advantage of the fact that we’re lucky enough to now be in a position where I can hire an array of people if need be. It’s just- you know I’m a control freak, this business isn’t just a business it’s our baby!”

You watch his mouth open in protest and you just simply continue speaking “But regardless, I know it’s not more important than me, or my health I know…” You instantly feel the tension within his body dissipate at that, thumbs kneading at your hips.

“ I’m sorry, I love you and I’m sorry I’m not trying to stress daddy out!'' There's a slight playfulness to your delivery trying to lighten the mood a little though you know how serious this topic is for him! You find yourself wiggling in his hold trying to somehow get even closer than you already were. 

So here’s the thing, back when you were in college just starting out, the two of you had a lot on your plate! Between school juggling multiple jobs, internships, and just trying to figure out how to even start a company of this caliber….The level of exhaustion he often saw you at was utterly heartbreaking. The number of times you passed out due to lack of sleep is unmentionable… so seeing you like this...was fucking unacceptable in Namjoon’s eyes! 

You notice those big brown orbs of his get a little glassy so you grip the back of his neck even tighter dropping your forehead to his. Feeling like complete and utter trash right now! 

 “This business is not more important than my wife, my partner, my best friend...it’s not! However, you are more important than, all of it, this fuckin overpriced apartment, all the shiny little toys we’ve been able to buy, and this entire company in general! I love you, but I need you to look me in the eyes and fucking promise me that you’ll stop this! Please…” 

You can hear a slight trimmer laced within that deep honey-coated tenor of his and the sudden vibrato’s foreign, and you’re not a fan! It took everything in you not to cry at the blatant plea rolling off his tongue, well aware this man does not beg! So instead you just leaned in and kissed him, hard, slow, just letting everything you couldn’t really articulate pour from your lips to his and hope he got the message. 

“I promise, I love you…I promise!”

“And you know I fuckin love you…”  You do, fuck you do, even if this marriege was high key an accidnet..it’s without a doubt one of the best things that’s ever happened to you!

“I know”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck, yeah”

Ducking down, kissing you reckless and with fevour, messy, wet, teeth clacking together. Slowly transitioning the mood from deep and touching to just...raw and nasty which is kinda what you’d prefer at the moment!

 “I wasn’t lyin when I said I’ve wanted to fuck you all damn day though…”

“Please” you whisper out as he pulls back to lick down your neck, pressing your chest together to give him better access. Sucking his mark in a spot right beneath your jaw, well aware you’ll need an ass-ton of conclear within the next couple of hours, but right now you could care less!  

“Please what baby? Tell daddy, what you want?” Namjoon presses, biting his lip and sliding his hand back between your legs groaning out at how completely drenched you are right now. 

“Fuck me!” You pant out low and whiney

“You want it here baby? You want daddy to bend you over the table?” The familiar hunger that was back in his eyes was so fucking sexy and  it had you rutting against him for any ounce of stimulation! 

“No.Bedroom” Namjoon moans in agreement, securing your thighs around his waist and scoping you out of the chair, heading towards the opulent master suite the two of you shared.

Once inside he throws you down on the bed, hard and almost animalistic, making you bounce a little against the firm California king. Namjoon follows immediately, crawling over to cover your body with his own, his broad form completely engulfing your frame. Ripping your robe apart, and letting your tongues meet once more. Hot slick, and eager as you pant out hot and heavy against one another. Soothing is palm down your stomach, cupping your entire heat in his palm. Moaning out that it feels just fuckin like that. Wet and warm, so damn warm...ducking his head down to lick your nipple into his mouth, sucking slow but hard at the same time, nipping and grazing the bud between his teeth.

“Fuck” You moan back arching off the bed and into your husband’s mouth, as he licks trails across your sternum and over to your other nipple. While also stroking his entire palm against your pussy, Namjoon’s always loved how responsive you are to him even after all these years. Just letting his tongue lave over the buds over and over, alternating between, licking, sucking, and biting so your body never gets used to the stimulation. 

“You fuckin, love this shit don’t, you? Bet I could get you to come just like this...wouldn’t be the first time, would it?” You can feel his lips curling into a smirk around your nipples the harder he sucks, bringing his other hand into the mix, the one that’s nice and slick with your arousal. Using it to twist and turn your nipple between his nimble fingers until he can’t tell if your arching into the pain or away from it. He can feel you grinding against his thigh, more importantly, he can feel your clit sticking to his thigh your so damn wet, soaking straight through his sweatpants. Moaning out loud and unfiltered, eyes shut as you rock your hips against him, your hands getting lost in your hair the harder you rock against the bed.

“Fuck, look at you baby, rubbing your sweet little cunt against my thigh..” A low almost arrogant chuckle rumbling in his throat, vibrating against your skin making you moan even louder. “Fuck, here I was thinking you wanted to come on my dick...” 

“Fuck- I do, I wanna come all over you, want your mouth too though…” Reaching out to play in his hair, almost pushing his face down even harder, though you swear you can feel his lips curl into a wicked little smile at that moment. 

“Yeah? You want daddy's tongue all over your pussy…” He didn’t even bother phrasing it as a question, especially once he meticulously started rolling his tongue along your nipples, in a oh too familiar motion that had you turning into a whiny brat within seconds! 

“Namjoon!” He doesn’t even respond, just pulling off and flipping you right on to your stomach, hard and fast, making you damn near choke on your own spit. Face pressed into your fresh linen sheets.. You start to slightly arch your back on insctint. You feel him shift off the bed, peeping over your shoulder to see his sliding off his sweats, stashing his glasses in his side pocket. Namjoons length is just standing straight up, damn near laying flat against his stomach and you straight up moan, mouth-watering at the sight alone. A pleased hum leaves those plump lips of his as he shuffles back onto the bed. Kissing and licking his way up the back of your thighs until he reaches your ass, straddling your hips. 

Palm rubbing at the swell of your ass before smacking it, lightly at first, and your hip twitches you actually have the nerve to giggle. “That all daddy’s go-fuck” Another. Scream. Literally. Scream as he reels back even harder than he did earlier, just keeping his hand intact too, wanting you to feel the trob, the ache, radiating off his palm to your ass. 

“Hmm what was that baby?” Leaning down to spread your cheeks apart, just blowing a trail, against your pussy, watching the way your hole clenches from that alone. “Always so fuckin wet and ready for me…” 

He groans and you, arch your back, even more, moaning out slightly at the contrast hitting your skin. Bracing both hands on your ass and he can hear your breathing shutter in your chest, already anticipating the first drag of his tongue. Dipping one thumb over you rim, just circling it gently, feeling you jerk at the sensation, no matter how light, fuck your still so damn sensitive. That will never stop amazing him, it’s been almost 8 years. Yet you still react like it’s the first time he’s ever touched you like he’s still helping you explore new places along your own body! Namjoon leans forward, nipping, licking, and sucking, open mouth kisses, against the backs of your thighs, before leaning down to kiss your clit. Tongue and all, sucking it straight into his mouth, moaning out deep and strong around the bud. Inhaling slowly as if he's breathing you in and your knees already start to buckle,  nails clenching around the sheets. 

A broken moan of his name being muffled into the fabric, as he rolls his tongue in deep, languid strokes up and down your folds, licking from front to back. Your wetness is already painted all over his face and he wouldn’t have it any other way, as he continuously, maliciously sucks down on your clit, gently grazing the skin between his teeth just enough to make you squirm. Bringing his tongue to lather over your rim and he feels how hard you start shaking, sliding in two fingers into your heat, knuckles deep at the exact moment he slips his tongue past your rim. The vision that is you, open, needy, and whiney, on all fours...is driving your husband absolutely insane! How quickly you’re falling apart, knees spreading even wider to give him all the access he needs to do with you as he pleases. 

“Yeah..” You sign, blissed out of you goddamn mind ‘Fuck”

Your voice drips in the whiniest tinge of need imaginable like you’ve been aching for this, and the sounds richotect straight off your tongue and into Namjon’s lap! Your chest drops forward, letting Namjoon essentially all support your weight, as his tongue dives in even deeper, while continuously fucking you open with his fingers, he’s already added a third one. Mind completely spinning at how hard your clenching around all three of his fingers, cock throbbing at how good you’ll feel around him soon enough. You feel him pull back to spit right along your rim, watching it drizzle down toward your clit, he picks the trail up with his tongue and leads it where he wants it to go. Namjoon moans out, low, and content as he really starts to eat you out your tongue and fingers working your pussy open until your voice hitches in your throat and shatters. Ripping, a long drawn out whimper to leave your throat.

“That feel good?” He murmurs low and taunting, and you can’t help but roll your eyes, as if he can’t physically tell he feels good.

“I’ve had better”

He bites your cheek playful, a snort leaving his lips “Fuckin same..” slurs out against the swell of your ass and you can’t help but cackle.

“Fuck, I bet you have now, stop talking and get your fucking tongue back in ME!!” Bossy as ever, damn near pushing his head down and he reaches up, biting the side of your hand forcing you to stop. 

“How about my cock instead?” Leaning back to smack his length aginst your ass a couple times, letting you feel how hard and ready he is. 

“Yeah! God yeah, fuck yeah! Gimme! In me now! Fuck me!!” All your prior teasing is gone, just the mention of his cock has you needy and clenching painfully hard around his fingers, while also simultaneously rutting back against them as if you don’t want him to pull out. Pulling his fingers out slowly. Curling them upwards, purposely coating his fingers in your arousal to use to lather his cock which is so hard right now it’s almost painful. 

“Daddy” Wiggling your offensively empty ass in his face, making him chuckle, and smack it lightly. before gripping your thigh and flipping you onto your back with such ease it was almost offensive. 

“Nam-”

“Fuck off” Leaning down and stealing your breath and sarcasm away with a deep kiss “I wanna see my baby..” Lining himself up to your entrance, you exhale softly against his mouth as the blunt head of his cock breaches your entrance. Hiking your leg around Namjoon’s waist to make him slide in even deeper.

“Yeah, fuck” 

“I hope you don’t think…” Shifting forward wiggly his hips a little, giving you half a second to adjust to how fucking big this man is! “We’re about to make love or some shit, because I’m about to break your ass..” There’s just as much of a smile as there is a dangerous edge to your husband’s voice, that has you beaming up at him. Before you even had time to think of a response he was snapping his hips forward hard enough to have the two of you scooting up the bed a little.

Namjoon, propped your leg even higher over his shoulder, as he snapped his hips forward again, even harder this time. You moaned out, and scurried to grab onto your husband’s neck to anchor yourself as he fucked into you hard and fast, you tried to arch and fuck him back but it was hard with how intense he was pounding into you! 

“Oh my godddd” You drawled out, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Yup, Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been called that, in this position.....” You could hear the smile in his voice as he continued fucking you like he was trying to split you open with his cock. Nails clawing into his back hard enough to break skin! 

You could’ve just laid there and took, it because fuck if it wasn’t good, but that’s not the mood you were in at the moment. So you dropped your leg from his shoulder and wrapped them both around his waist. Tipping your hips forward, clenching down hard around his cock as you started grinding your hips against him. Fucking him back the same way he was giving it to you. Hard and smooth.. 

“Y/n” He half growled half whined as you smiled up at him, something wicked, releasing your hold around his cock only to clench down even harder. He groans in what seemed like frustration reached down to smack pinch your clit between his fingers hard enough to make you cry out his name. Arching forward even harder. 

“Yeah, daddy like that, fuck.Me.just like that” you were breathless but the sass was clear as day, a slight chuckle leaving your throat. 

“Fuckin brat!” Reaching down with the same hand that was on your clit, wrapping it around your windpipe, adding just enough pressure to have your eyes rolling to the back off your head. The added stimulation throwing off your rhythm a little but you didn’t care, he had you…

“Yesss,yes, fuck!” His tattooed chest was flushed and covered in sweat as you continued fucking back against his cock, which was warm and continuously pulsing side of you. Filling you up and sliding completely out every single time. Your hole twitched painfully hard as the two of you worked in sync thrusting against each other in a smooth yet malicious rhythm, the sound of skin slapping you moaning, Namjoon grunting... 

Fuck an edible arrangement maybe the two of you should treat your neighbors to a spa weekend or something because they damn sure aren’t sleeping right now! 

“Ya know, if you would’ve came to bed earlier” He panted right into the side of your ear, still rolling his hips into you “I could’ve fucked you, came inside you” Leaning down to lick up the side of your jaw  “Licked all, of my come out of you, and then” Pulling back and snapping his hips up even sharper, as if to accentuate every word “Fucked.You.All.Over.-Fuck-Again” Every thrust had the wind being knocked out of your chest  “ But now..we don’t have tim-” 

Reaching up to twist his nipple between the tip of your nail, kneeing him in the stomach just enough to make his hips stutter and have him shuffling back so you can push him onto his back which he falls to willingly. That is, until you literally bounced down onto his dick, damn near gagging in the process he feels so deep in this angle. Almost tempted to feel up your sternum and see if he’s poking through. 

“You little bitch” Chokes from his throat with a stated smile the tones playful and airy, digging his nails into your ass, letting out an involuntary gasp as he rolls his hips up. Only for you to start rolling your hips back, again, and again, and again, in deep, slow, circles, switching up the pace a little from what it was before. Making sure your clit grazes against his pelvic bone every time.

“Yeah, fuck you” Your breathless, and tired, but you can’t help but smile at how completly fucked out he looks right now, eyes barley ajar, jaw tight, he looks so damn good! 

“Yeah, yeah, fuck daddy baby..fuck me..” It’s clear he’s only egging you on but fuck if it’s not working,he sounds down right sinful as you ride him. His moans are deep, loud, almost needy, at every roll your hips make, and it’s intoxicating! Reaching up and grabbing you down by your neck , licking his way back into our mouth, his grip is strong enough to without a doubt leave a bruise. Both of you moaning out pleased and needy as you start slamming your hips down meeting his upwards thrust. Instantly matching the pace he’d set. Namjoon pulls back, and slips three fingers into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat to make you gag a little. Exchanging the grip he held on your neck for the back of your hair, as he brings his other hand down between your bodies to play with your clit, before licking his way back into your mouth.Feeling the way your thighs start to shake as you cry out against his tongue barely able to kiss him back at this point . 

“Your fuckin close baby, your pussy’s just screamig around me..” He’s breathless, not even trying to hide it anymore, voice horse and dripping with arousal. “Goddamnn I love you…” You clench so damn hard around him at that..I actually don't think anything turns you on more than hearing your husband say that. Especially sounding all fucked out and needy.

“Love you too baby..so fuckin much… “

“Good”  He chuckled low and dark agaisnt your lips “Now come, all over my cock like a good girl”  Fucking into you faster and harder, hand still rubbing blunt circles around your clit, tightening the grip he holds on your hair until your roots burn  “Y/n , baby, my baby, come for me, come for daddy...” 

It only took a few more thrusts before your orgasm ripped through you and you were crying out your husband's name, body spasming on top of him. Yet you still didn't stop rutting against him until he came in. You couldn't, you needed to feel it, body running away from him just as much as it was running towards him! You can feel how hard your clenching and its involnaty this time,so he reaches up with both hands rolling your hips against him one more time before slamming you down onto his cock. Just holding you in place while you continue to pulse around him, body shattering to pieces.

“Namjoonnnn fuck-fuck-fuck-” He grounds you agaisnt his cock as he jerks his hips up hard and fast, eyes squezzing shut, neck arching off the pillow, as his relase washed over him. A long drawn out moan of your name slipped off his tongue as he came, hard, hips stilling making sure to fill you to the brim, until he's sure he released every last drop he had to give..His own body shuttering in ovesentivty at this point. Namjoons fingers slowly soothed up your thighs, both of you panting painfully hard, wincing at the contact as you continue pulsing around him. Eyes locked in a half lidded gaze, a smile that started on your lips and ended on his as the two of you racked over each other's forms, hot sweaty, marked up, and fucked out. 

“Namjoon” You finally say, breaking the silence, a slight moan hanging off your tongue and he smiled back at you, reaching up to grip the back of your neck.

“Y/n” Parroting your name with the same lust filled drawl that you had, making you moan…

Nam-fucking-Joon” Leaning down to place a firm kiss to his lips, humming out instanly at the contact.

“Y/n Kim….” 

“Yup, that’s me!” Smiling out tired and dazed against his lips, while you felt his hand soothe up and down the curve of your back. 

“I love you”

“And, I love you” 

The two of you laid there like that for a moment, until his cock was completely soft and he gently slid out, still keeping you flush against his chest….just sitting in comfortable silence, breathing together..until..

“ Oww!! What the fuck was that for ?!” Your poor ass...at least it’s a pinch and not a smack this time...

“I mean it. I love what we do and I know sometimes realistically it happens there are only so many hours in a day I understand that. We wouldn’t be where we are if we didin’t work our asses off! But you’ve been doing this and running on fumes all damn week! I’ve just been watching from afar and keeping my mouth shut, hoping that you would sort it out yourself but I couldn’t watch you burn yourself into the ground anymore. Y/n. I’m serious! “

You can feel the weight behind his words, the way his heart seems to be beating harder now than it was when the two of you were having sex. 

So you lean down to press a kiss on his lips that almost seems far too delicate and out of place for what just happened only moments prior.

“I know.” 

Namjoon holds your gaze for a second longer before cupping the side of your face and kissing you firm and sweet, smiling against your lips once he feels you sigh into it. Hesitantly he pulls away and heads towards the bathroom and he already hears you whine in protest. Just flagging his hand in your direction, not even bothering to turn around.

 “We literally have a 9 AM flight and an 11:30 business meeting at the Plaza! Meaning, you have to be dressed and fully ready when we hop on the plane. Your fuckin showering..now. I don’t wanna hear it. ” 

Honestly, you were far too tired to protest and the tone of his voice let you know you wouldn’t win anyway!  So I mean, fuck, at least there’s a bench in the shower! 

“Ugh, fuck, fine! Come carry me! I have to preserve my energy to walk in my Louboutins tomorrow!!!” Making grabby hands in his direction knowing damn well he can’t deny you anything. 

“You mean today!” You heard his voice echo off the tiles and hoenstly he seems far to chipper to remind you have of, which only makes you whine even louder! 

Heading back out the bathroom with a smirk on his face, shaking his head in dismay as he scoops you effortlessly into his arms. “Come here you little brat!” 

“Your brat!” You fire back, with nothing but smugness rolling off your tongue as you loop your arms around his neck, kissing his dimple.

“Fuck yeah you are, my brat, my wife, my fuckin baby” Inviting his tongue back into your mouth as he leads the two of you back into the bathroom! 

The two of you moved together lazily whilst in the shower, taking turns washing each other, slow touches and kisses. Murmuring sweet nothings mixed in with business because though you tried to leave work at work...sometimes it’s impossible! 

Not even bothering to look at the clock once you finally melted into your bed, honestly, you didn’t even wanna know. 

~~~

 Far too soon the sound of all 6 of your alarms went off, ya know, the “Okay I should get up but I don’t have to get up” All the way to the “Fuck, I’m late!” Alarm! They all went off until you found yourself practically being scraped off the floor and led into the guest room that the two of you converted into an additional closet and a place for you to get ready in peace! 

Sitting down, Starbucks in hand as you set out to beat your face, do your hair and try not to look like you stayed up until 1 am then got fucked into the mattress until you damn near cried! 

The Starbucks was curiosity of Taehyung who had keys and free reign to your apartment whenever we felt so inclined. The redhead welcomed himself into your space, waltzing over in your direction with an all-knowing smile on his face. Ducking down to leave a slow lingering, open mouthed kiss along the one mark on your shoulder you apparently forgot to cover this morning. You can feel him smirking against your skin,as he pulls back to flop down on the pink furry chair currently covered in rejected outfit choices. Trying to force yourself to ignore the sudden chill that rang through your body because you didin’t have the time or the engery for anything else. 

‘Why aren’t you wearing this? Your ass looks fuckin great in this!” Holding up a black halterneck Jumpsuit, brows furrowed in the center of his face.

“I know, but, it needs to be steamed and I don’t have the time..” A feigned pout playing on your lips as you batted your lashes at him through the mirror. Watching as he slid off the chair, with an exasperated huff, eyes rolling to the back of his head more times than you can count. Heading towards the steamer you had hanging along one of your many clothes racks.  

“Thank you, baby!!” Blowing him a kiss that he swatted away in the process! 

“Yeah, yeah! Soo I see someone was impatient and went through the resumes last night…At fuckin midnight!” Eyes glaring in your direction, you could hear the frown in his voice. “Y/n-“

“Don’t!” Eyes narrowing in his direction through the mirror “Daddy Joon already got in my ass enough about last night for all of you!” 

 “As he fuckin should! That’s what you have me for baby, so you aren’t doing that shit to yourself anymore!” You can tell he’s trying to sound authoritative but instead, he just sounds sad and equally disappointed!”

“I know, Tae, I know, I’m fuckin workin’ on it!.” Your delivery comes out a little sharper than you intended but he’s known you far too long to take it personally or even fully acknowledge it honestly! 

“Speaking of, I actually met this kid, not fully a kid he’s like 21, but anyway he just graduated from USC, for some sort of Film. I actually ran into him at Starbucks today and he’s supposed to be sending me his resume and some video reels in a little while.” 

A low hum ringing in the back of your throat, far too focused on carving out your brows to talk...but he took that as a hint to continue. 

“His name is Jungkook, he seems somewhat promising just from talking to him, so, I’ll feel it out and if it seems worth your time I’ll forward over his information! I’m also going to try and set up a couple of interviews for you and Joonie next week!” 

Offering a faint nod in response, still far too focused on your makeup to give much else, or realize the sudden fire burning in Taehyung's eyes as he watches you get ready. Silk robe hanging loosely off your frame, a pair of white lace panties peeking out...

“What time were the two of you trying to get dropped off at the airport?” The sudden shift in conversation, and the blatant octave change had your eyes meeting him through the mirror. Trying to feel out his mood…

“In the next hour or so…” Then there’s Namjoon, standing in the doorway wearing nothing but his dress pants, an unbuttoned silk shirt, and a smirk that screams nothing but trouble. 

“Come’re” The bass in Namjoon’s voice alone has chills running down your spine, a second away from shifting out of your seat until you realize he’s not talking to you. Flicking his finger in the redhead’s direction, edging him off the wall slowly. Biting his lip as he sways coyly in your husband’s direction. 

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

THAT’S ALL SHE WROTE! FOR NOW, IF YOU LIKED IT.. ,SHOW THIS SOME LOVE AND I’LL CONSIDER ADDING TO IT!  I DID MAP OUT THE FIRST 3 CHAPTERS LAST YEAR WHEN I STARTED THIS BUT I DIDN’T PHYSICALLY WRITE THEM! BTW I KNOW I DIDIN’T MENTIONED ALL OF THEM, BUT ALL O BTS MINUS KOOK WORK FOR THE OC AND NAMJOON!

MASTER LIST 

[kikidewynter]

anyway i mention my pierce headcanons a lot but i’ve never put them all in a post before so

he comes from an upper middle class family. his mom’s a lawyer and his dad plays an instrument in a professional orchestra

he’s an only child, and bc pierce gives me the impression that he craves validation and praise for his work, i think his parents never really gave him that much attention. his dad was usually out of town for work, and his mom either stayed late at the office or brought all her work home with her. when he did something worthy of praise, he didn’t really get it enthusiastically—just a quick “good job,” or “keep it up,” because they were so busy or because they had high expectations for him anyway

he might not be the best singer but he has a big interest in music. he took classical piano & violin lessons growing up (explaining his canon interest in classical music) and would wear cute little tuxedos to his recitals. he started playing around with making his own music and decided it was something he wanted to pursue, so he studied music production in college

he grew up in the suburbs and went to a private high school in north stilwater where he was president of the chess club, in the band, etc. and he would always wear his school blazer & have expensive shoes. he made sure he always looked good in his uniform, maybe accessorising with a diamond earring

pierce has big prep vibes but his sr2 look also makes me think he’s kind of a jock. i think he’s into more chill sports (nothing too aggressive like football), like basketball, tennis, or badminton maybe. probably a little golf by srtt bc he likes flaunting his wealth like that

gay. i was on the fence for a while bc he’s romanceable by anyone in sriv but then i realised that volition making all the characters playersexual while never clarifying what their identities are and giving us any real lgbt rep is evil so i’m not taking it as canon. pierce gay !

grew up admiring the vice kings. they were just so cool and stylish (if you’ve seen their early concept art u know what i’m talking abt). he would walk past them on his way home from school n give them a lil fist bump but his parents didn’t want him hanging around or making friends w gang members so that was kinda the extent of his affiliation

while studying in college, he gets an apprenticeship at kingdom come records. it’s cool at first, he gets to sit in on sessions and learn abt different equipment and techniques and recording processes. but as time goes by he gets sent on more and more shady errands until he’s basically just doing vice king jobs. it pays well and it’s fun, so he doesn’t really mind. he officially joins the gang and drops out of college

his parents disapprove but he doesn’t really tell them what he’s up to bc he knows they’d cut him off, so he just says he got a permanent job at kingdom come

aaaand then he gets arrested. i figure sometime near the end of sr1 when the saints are coming down hard on the vice kings n they lost all the connections king had that kept them out of jail

but it’s cool bc he meets gat and shaundi

he gets out n gets his tattoo about a year before the boss wakes up. probably feels a little lost bc he’s like 24 now and there are no vice kings and he can’t exactly go back to work at kingdom come, he doesn’t even have any qualifications. so he goes back to college and his parents are willing to pay but warn that it’s the last time. then of course the boss wakes up and he ditches all that to roll with the saints bc he just. loves the freedom and the fun and the money and the sense of family

he and shaundi get a place together and they bicker a lot but they actually have a lot of fun living together. one time he brings a guy home from the club and dips into the bathroom for a few mins. when he comes back out, his date is sitting at the kitchen table listening to shaundi talk absolute shit bc it’s 3am and she’s blasted and got distracted looking for food and asked for his birth chart. bc she does that with like EVERY guy pierce dates and then gets back to him on whether she thinks they’re a good match or not. he tells her it’s all bullshit but really he thinks it’s cute that she’s looking out for him

wears sweats and crop tops when he’s chilling in the apartment/the crib

he gets invited over to johnny’s and he hangs out a little before AISHA comes down the stairs and he’s like HUH??? bc he was a vice king, he thought she was dead. anyway they end up talking bc aisha loves meeting new people and they become fast friends. their shared love of music means they’re always in aisha’s home recording studio making songs. even if they can’t be released, it’s nice for aisha to be able to sing again, and pierce is more than honoured to be making music with an r&b star

when the saints become celebrities, pierce thrives. he becomes the official face of the saints, gets his own sublabel under ultor to produce music and work w artists. he also gets his own talent agency and scouts new actors/models for the saints/ultor brand. he’s rich, he’s doing what he loves, and to make sure he’s always happy, he surrounds himself with suckups and other celebrities. he throws parties constantly because he loves the good vibes and the attention and being the host and life of the party. but deep down it’s not satisfying at all. i don’t think he knows what he really wants

i know it’s a lil joke but i’m taking pierce saying he does voice acting work for video games as canon. he also guest dj’s a few times a week for the classical music radio station. makes guest appearances in sitcoms and tv shows, and sometimes reality shows (like when someone suddenly has lunch w their famous friend? he’s that friend)

he has his own line of suits sold in planet saints

[makaniparata]

GET TO KNOW THE MUSE

Name: Makani Alexander Parata

Nickname(s): Big Mak, The Bull, Mak, Big Papa, King of Tap-Out

Age: 49

Date of Birth: April 23rd

Place of Birth: Kapolei, Hawaii

Race / Ethnicity: Mixed Race - African American & Samoan

Gender: CIS-Male

Pronouns: He/Him

FAMILY

Father: Alexander Drummond

Mother: Kapua Parata

Siblings: None - that he knows of, however, as he doesn’t know his father or if he has any siblings on that side of the family

Spouse: Kami Parata - married for nearly thirty years now

Children: 5 adopted children - eldest is a 24 year old boy, second oldest is a 21 year old girl that's a third-year in college, middle child is a nineteen year old female that's a freshman in college, second youngest is an eighteen year old that's starting his senior year of high school in the fall and the youngest is a seventeen year old girl that will also be a senior in the fall.

APPEARANCE

Height: 6'6

Weight: 272 pounds

Build: Herculean, Athletic, Toned

Body Hair: Smooth

Hair Color: Black, but keeps head shaved

Eye Color: Brown

Tattoos: A bull skull tattoo on his right arm and a large polynesian tattoo that covers his left shoulder, chest, and even back.

Piercings: N/A

NSFW

Position: Versatile, Switch

Kinks: Intimacy, Kissing, Light Pain-Play, Worship, Pits, Sweat, Musk, Massages, Infidelity, Smaller Tops/Doms, Bondage, Multiple Orgasms (giving), Edging, Daddy-Kink, Open to Others

Anti-Kinks: Severe Humiliation/Degradation, Pain-Play, Age-Play, Diaper-Play, Scat, Electro-Stimulation

Safeword: Red

Dick Claim: Here

Ass Claim: Here

BIOGRAPHY

The son to a United States Marine that was stationed on the island of O'ahu, Makani didn't really know much about his father except that he was honored to serve his country and protect it from those that meant to do it harm. At least, that's what his mother always told him of the man, not speaking ill of him despite the fact that he wound up leaving when he was still in his mother's womb. Truthfully, Makani didn't need to know his dad because he had his mom, and she played both roles perfectly, raising him with care and telling him that he could be whatever he wanted to be. Of course, things were tense and hard, but they somehow managed to make it through - though that could have been due in part to Makani helping out around the fishing docks as much as he could, not wanting to see his mother hurt and struggle.

It was that goal that had the man wanting to do something that would make sure that his mother never worried about money, that she didn't have to wonder about how she was going to put food on the table or a roof over her head, and he knew that with his massive brawn, he'd be able to become a professional athlete. And boy, did he. Starting out in his high school football team, Makani was quickly recruited to play for Clemson, allowing him a chance to move to the "mainland" and give him a greater opportunity - and allowing him to meet a woman that would later become his wife and the mother of his children. And for four years, he played collegiate football, but when he realized he wasn't going to get scouted for the NFL, he grew angry. And when he grew angry, he hit the gym.

That's when things began to turn around.

He had been using a sandbag, punching it hard and fast, when someone had approached and told him that he had the look of a natural fighter. And really, Makani did. He had years of wrestling under his belt, a sport that fell hand-in-hand with football (if you could grapple, you could tackle), and he had taken up boxing as a way to work out and keep himself light on his feet, but he had never thought about making a professional career out of it. It was bloody, violent, and it was dangerous... but, the more that he thought about it and the more that this guy spoke, the more he realized he wanted to do it. And did it he shall.

Over time, Makani's fights began to draw in more and more of a crowd and he began to be nicknamed the bull for the bull tattoo on his right arm, his zodiac sign, and for his being hard to knock down. A fighter that was known for his submission-style fighting quickly became known as the king of tap-out, a contender alongside Randy Couture or was the king of the ground-and-pound, and the two of them quickly made Mixed Martial Arts and the UFC a brand name that people recognized. And as Makani slowly began to step away from the Octagon, he began to teach aspiring fighters and coach them in the hopes that they'd follow in his steps and hold a belt of their own.

But despite his career as a grand-champion among all of the great fighters and a beautiful family that he built alongside his wife, Kami, Makani still yearns for more. Because despite the happy facade he puts on, he is really unhappy because he is living a lie. While he loves his wife and his family more than anything, the truth is, he was a gay man and he yearned for the masculine touch... so when one of his young trainees mentioned a camp for men to let go and relax? He was all too eager.

That was his first time to Camp Riverbend, and he's been back every year since - this being his third. He feels guilty for leaving his wife, for lying to her about being at a training camp, but this is what he needs to be able to release the tension that has been inside of him for nearly thirty years. And while Makani knows that he can't find anything long-lasting here... He can always dream, right?

[cicada-bones]

The Warrior and the Embers

Chapter 29: Fireheart

So apparently, I am on a roll, and this is yall's lucky weekend. Here ya go, another chapter. Just a warning, it made me cry, but that might be just because I’m an idiot. Enjoy!

Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Days passed in the flurry of preparation, filled with long hours, hard work, meetings, decisions, disagreements, and anxiety.

Rowan had awakened the next morning and immediately sought out a courier, requesting that they deliver his letters with as much haste as could be possible. Three he sent to Doranelle, where last he heard Gavriel, Fenrys, and Connall were still posted.

The other two he had far less specific information to provide. Rowan knew that both Vaughn and Lorcan were somewhere to the southwest, each on their way back to the capital. Lorcan had left several weeks before, at the conclusion of the conflict with the Erriagti people, and he would likely be slowly making his way up through the south, following the rivers.

Rowan was even less sure about Vaughn. He had received word that the group of spying royals had relieved him of duty, approximately a week previous. But Rowan didn’t know exactly where Vaughn had been, nor how far he had to travel before he would return to more familiar lands – let alone the path the male would take.

Rowan knew that it was a waste of time and energy to worry, that he had done what he could, and they would either answer his call, or they wouldn’t. But still, in the back of his mind, he couldn’t keep his doubts at bay.

Instead, he tried to distract himself with work. Which proved fairly effective – he doubted that over the next few days anyone in the fortress would run out of things to do.

In addition to the normal activities of the fortress, and their other preparations for the coming battle, the armory needed to be inventoried, and replenished. Supplies needed to be gathered, weapons sharpened, and armor fitted. Food needed to be prepared in case of siege, and livestock needed to be gathered and sheltered.

Rowan did all that and more, organizing rotations and separating everyone in the fortress into groups to set traps in shifts throughout the day. More pits were dug, snares set, and traps laid.

Aelin took it upon herself to help train those in the fortress who were more unfamiliar with combat, leading a series of lessons in the mornings and afternoons.

She took them through motion after motion, carefully adjusting positions and providing sound advice. Her voice never faltered, her limbs moving with grace and power – never belying any fear or doubt.

She looked like a leader. Like a queen.

And it appeared in other places as well. A brush across a young female’s newly fitted armor, adjusting it to fit. A small, warm smile given to an older male, encouraging him to be stronger, surer in his movements. Rushing over to help an overwhelmed guard carry sacks of feed into a storage space. The surety in her voice when she made suggestions, adjustments to strategy, her eyes quick and her shoulders strong.

She spoke with authority, but without being condescending or demeaning. She made others listen, and she commanded respect, and she did so not because of her name and title, and not because of her magic, but because of her.

It was a power that Rowan hadn’t known she possessed, and one that he knew was only going to grow in strength as she came into her own.

Perhaps the gods had been planning more with the deaths of her family than just the takeover of one kingdom by another. Perhaps they were creating a champion. Her experiences, while horrific, would significantly aid her in her reign.

A queen that personally understood the evils of slavery? The cost of poverty? Who knew the thoughts and wishes of all, from the slums to the marketplace to the palace? Such a thing was invaluable.

Rowan only wished he would be there to see it.

Malakai and the other leaders began to treat her differently, with a hushed respect, and warmth in their eyes. Several of them, including Malakai and Emrys, had known that she was a princess before now, and they hadn’t let it change the way they treated her. But now, with grace and authority dressing her every movement, they began to see what she really was – who she could really be.

Rowan wondered if Aelin was starting to see it as well, was starting to realize that she was becoming the leader her parents had wanted her to be. Rowan certainly saw it, and so did the others. But he didn’t say anything to her, didn’t want to bring up anything that might damage this delicate thing that was just sprouting between them.

The pair of them worked each day, from dawn till midnight, until their muscles ached, and they were about to drop. Then they collapsed into bed together, where Rowan couldn’t help but lean his body as close to hers as he dared. Where they would often wake up entangled in each other’s arms.

Rowan didn’t know if Aelin touched him out of stress, or anxiety, or the simple desire to feel another’s skin. To remind herself that she was alive. He didn’t know if it was out of loneliness, or because she missed her lover from across the sea. He didn’t know if it was because she was starting to feel those same, tangled emotions that he was realizing were starting to grow in his chest.

They didn’t say anything about it. Only woke together each morning, with the white light of day passing into their small haven, and bringing the outside world along with it. Then arose in silence, and started the day’s work.

Rowan found he spent much of his time with Malakai, planning and organizing and delegating. And he also found that the old male was not only a very competent and shrewd commander, but that the two of them worked well together. As the days passed, he felt Malakai shift, slowly becoming more and more comfortable in Rowan’s presence. Felt the old male lose much of that halting, formal respect, and watched it grow into a more sincere, genuine trust.

By the end of the third day after he and Aelin had returned from their overnight trip, Rowan and Malakai found that they could speak openly and agreeably with each other. It was nice, despite everything, to have earned the old male’s trust, after all this time.

That afternoon, Rowan assembled the eight captains, along with Aelin and Malakai, around a table in the dining hall for a meeting.

“Bas’s scouting team reported that the creatures look like they’re readying to move in a few days,” he said, pointing to a map. “Are the first and second miles of traps almost done?” The captains gave their confirmation. “Good. Tomorrow, I want your men preparing the next few miles, too.”

Rowan led them through the meeting, carefully keeping track of all the arms and legs of their plan. He made sure to emanate a careful steadiness, made sure to use each of the demi-Fae’s names when he addressed them, and he was encouraged by the determination he sensed radiating from them, strong enough that it outweighed the anxiety.

Rowan knew exactly what fear did to people, knew that fear could turn a winning battle into a losing one. So, he did the only thing he could for them – mastered his fear until it was almost entirely gone; wrapped up in cold resolve and ruthlessness.

This time however, the fear was different.

Rowan hadn’t been afraid of dying since he had lost Lyria, hadn’t had anything in life that he had been afraid to lose. His fear before battle for the past two centuries had just been a body’s uncontrollable reaction to danger. A fear that barely registered underneath the walls of ice within him.

Now he feared for another. He feared for Aelin.

Throughout all his planning, all his worries and organization, Rowan had been thinking of ways to keep her safe. In the back of his mind, he swam through possibilities and ideas, the ordinary and the outlandish alike, trying to find a way to ensure that she would walk away from this conflict, unharmed.

The meeting ended, and the captains walked out wearily, going to fulfill the various tasks Rowan had assigned them. He turned to Aelin, wanting to tell her to leave, to flee, to escape before this doom found them. He knew he wouldn’t, knew she wouldn’t, but he couldn’t stop the wanting nonetheless.

Aelin only stared at him, not seeming to notice that everyone had left. She must be completely exhausted. “Get some sleep. You’re no use to me completely dazed.”

“Sorry.” She rubbed at her eyes, and Rowan just looked back at her, waiting, seeing the words on her face.

They had never struggled to communicate, never struggled to understand what the other meant, what they wanted. At least not after those first few shameful weeks. Working with her was effortless, and there was no judgment, no need to explain himself. It was even easier working with her than it was with Lorcan, or Gavriel.

Shame and regret flooded through him. He had wasted so much time. Time spent hating her, and brawling, and wallowing. And now he had so little left.

But she was still looking at him. Rowan frowned. “Just say it.”

Her words came slowly. “We can handle the mortal soldiers, but those creatures and Narrok…” She paused, examining a map on the table between them. “If we had Fae warriors – like your companion who came to receive his tattoo – or all five of your cadre, even, it could turn the tide.” Her tone was careful, hesitant. She traced the line of mountains that separated these lands from the immortal ones beyond. “But you have not sent for them. Why?”

Rowan hesitated, unsure. “You know why.”

“Would Maeve order you home out of spite for the demi-Fae?”

“For a few reasons, I think.”

“And this is the person you chose to serve.” Her voice was bitter, mocking.

Rowan’s response was level, controlled. “I knew what I was doing when I drank her blood to seal the oath.”

Aelin’s eyes darkened, her lips pursing together. Her scent filled with some strange, repulsive odor. Like spoiled meat. “Then let’s hope Wendlyn’s reinforcements get here quickly.”

She turned to leave, but Rowan gipped her wrist, halting her retreat. Unwilling to let their conversation end on such a note. “Don’t do that,” he said, searching for the right words. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“With that…disgust.” He found the name for that thing in her scent.

“I’m not – ”

Rowan just gave her a sharp look, cutting her off. She sighed. “This…all this, Rowan…” She waved a hand to the map, to the doors the demi-Fae had passed through, to the sounds of people readying their supplies and defenses in the courtyard. “For whatever it’s worth, all of this just proves that she doesn’t deserve you. I think you know that, too.”

Rowan’s brow furrowed, and he looked away before she could read his face. “That isn’t your concern.”

Her words were soft and sad. “I know. But I thought you should still hear it.”

When he didn’t respond, she slowly walked out of the dining hall, her light footsteps pounding in his eardrums.

Rowan leaned over the table, his shoulders hunched and his hands braced against the surface, still looking at the map of the lands surrounding Mistward. But he didn’t see it, not really.

He couldn’t tell her the truth – that he knew who Maeve was, that he had known for centuries, and that he had hidden that truth from himself as best he could. To endure.

He couldn’t tell her that if he allowed himself to want, if he allowed himself to let go of the icy wall he maintained over his heart, he would want to stay with her. To join her when she returned to Adarlan. To be by her side, guarding her back.

But he had no way to break his oath to Maeve, no way to turn back time and prevent himself from taking it, to force himself to wait, to hold out for something infinitely better.

For now he knew he truly regretted taking the oath. Regretted it with every fiber of his being. Knew that he would do anything to take it back, would suffer any torture, would endure any pain.

Just so he wouldn’t have to watch her leave him, and know that he would never see her again. She was his mirror, his equal, his only true friend – someone who understood him as well, better, than he did himself. Someone who saw all of the dark, broken parts of him, and did not look away.

And he was going to lose her.

The future was murky, no one knew how the coming conflicts were going to play out, but Rowan knew that someday, perhaps very soon, Aelin would have to face her enemies in the west, and either be destroyed, or take back her crown. Either outcome meant the same thing for him. She would be queen, or dead, and he would still be here, serving Maeve, until Erilea was consumed by the sun.

He would have to wait, to sit in Doranelle while Aelin fought against an entire nation, completely alone.

Rowan knew that he would fight against the oath with everything he had, would fight it until he took his last breath. But he knew it would be in vain.

···

The following day passed much the same as the three previous. Though as their preparations escalated, tensions in the fortress began to mount, edging towards a breaking point.

Aelin concluded her final sparring lesson of the day, and returned to their rooms to wash her face and bandage a burn on her forearm, while Rowan headed to the kitchens to check in on Emrys and Malakai, seeking answers to some trivial question.

But the second he entered the small space, the words crumbled on his lips, his request immediately forgotten.

Emrys was in his mate’s arms, tears silently streaming down his face while Malakai soothingly rubbed his back. Shock and grief permeated the room, and Rowan could feel the horror spreading through the fortress, as whatever news they had received began to disperse.

Something had gone terribly, horribly wrong.

Rowan’s limbs felt like lead as he slowly approached the distraught pair, a wave of panic spilling over all the walls he had created to contain it. His breaths were shallow in his chest.

At the sound of his approach, Malaki and Emrys broke apart and turned their heads towards him. Rowan soundlessly entreated them for answers, unable to speak for the roaring in his head, screaming for Aelin to be by his side, to know she was safe.

Malakai answered his unspoken question, “The slaves. The slaves in Calaculla and Endovier…have all been executed.”

His heart dropped like a stone, even as relief flooded through his body. The news wasn’t of their imminent demise, but of a disaster of a completely different kind.

Malakai was still speaking, giving Rowan the details – the hows and whys. Rowan heard him, but he wasn’t really listening. All his thoughts had turned to the girl, to the princess who had once been a slave. The woman who had sworn to Rowan that she would someday free all those poor, dead, slaves.

His limbs felt disconnected to his body.

A sea of guilt that was not his own stretched before him, and he saw the pain this would cause her. The agony and the remorse. Rowan wondered for a moment if the Adarlanian king hadn’t somehow known what he was doing, if he hadn’t done it on purpose. To make his enemy writhe.

And then Rowan heard footsteps on the stairs at his back, and tasted her fiery scent. He breathed, and steeled himself, turning to face her.

Aelin approached them, full of grim anticipation. Her scent was filled with barely-smothered fear but her face was a mask of cold determination.

As she beheld the scene before her – the grief in the room, the shock and horror Rowan knew was on his face – she paled even further, her eyes widening and her scent becoming thick with copper.

Rowan’s arms hung slack at his sides, his fingers clenching and unclenching. He could do this; he could get through this. He wouldn’t make this any worse for her.

Aelin almost seemed to take a step back, as if to try to avoid this, to evade the doom he held in wait for her.

Rowan took a step toward her – one step, and that was all it took before she began shaking her head, before she lifted her hands in front of her as if to push him away.

“Please,” she said, and her voice broke. “Please.”

Rowan kept approaching, knowing that he couldn’t avoid this, knowing that he had to keep it together, had to bear as much of this burden for her as he could.

He stopped within reach but did not touch her.

He swallowed once. Twice. “There was…there was an uprising at the Calaculla labor camp.” Another shallow breath. “After Princess Nehemia was assassinated, they say a slave girl killed her overseer and sparked an uprising. The slaves seized the camp.” Aelin’s eyes were blank, the gold frozen solid. “The King of Adarlan sent two legions to get the slaves under control. And they killed them all.”

“The slaves killed his legions?” The hope in her eyes nearly struck him to the ground. He breathed once, trying to calm himself, and grasped her hand as gently as he could.

She almost flinched at his touch.

“No. The soldiers killed every slave in Calaculla.” He could see the words twist in her, gutting her like a knife.

But she was still in denial. “There are thousands of people enslaved in Calaculla.”

Rowan nodded, the weight of that death settling on his shoulders like smothering blanket. But still – she didn’t know the whole truth, only half.

He opened and closed his mouth, trying to master himself, forcing himself to grit and bear it, to bear causing her this agony.

She breathed, “Endovier?” It was a fool’s plea.

Slowly, so slowly, Rowan shook his head. “Once he got word of the uprising in Eyllwe, the King of Adarlan sent two other legions north. None were spared in Endovier.”

Her eyes went dark, and she stared but did not see. Her knees began to buckle and he gripped her arms as if he could keep her from falling into the abyss.

Aelin’s face was utterly blank, wiped clean of every thought. She breathed in quick, panicked gasps. He could almost hear the wailing echoing behind her eyes. And his heart broke.

“Aelin,” he whispered, too softly for others to hear, letting all his emotion, all his tenderness and care, reveal itself in that short word.

But at the sound of it, at the sound of her name on his lips, Aelin tore off his grip and was running out the kitchen door. Running across the courtyard, her feet pounding over the cobblestones. Running through the wooden gate, and out of his sight.

Rowan’s arms were still held out, but she was gone.

Her name.

He had known what that name meant to her, a connection to her past, the identity she had lost, that had been taken from her. And he had said it anyways. He had reminded her of her guilt, the responsibility she felt to protect all who had been connected to the country she had been born to lead. Aelin, the name of the person who had been promised to the world to protect the defenseless.

Guilt coursed through him as he stood, making to follow her out of the fortress. But before he made it out of the kitchens, Malakai’s voice broke through his reverie.

“Wait! Prince!”

Rowan stopped and turned, taken aback by the urgency in the male’s tone. What could possibly still matter? What could still make any difference?

From the pain in Malakai’s eyes, something certainly could. And Rowan realized suddenly that the grief in the kitchens upon his arrival, the grief that he could feel flooding through the fortress in a desperate, panicked wave, was not due to the deaths of strangers across the sea.

No, something else had gone wrong. Something much closer to home.

Rowan barely had time to steel himself once again before Malakai spoke once more. “The courier also brought news from Wendlyn.”

He swallowed, his voice shaking slightly. “Their northern border has been attacked by three thousand men on Adarlanian ships. Most of their fleet must have been dispatched.” Malakai paused for breath, but Rowan knew what the male was going to say.

“Reinforcements aren’t coming.” The words were barely a whisper.

Malakai shook his head. “No. We are on our own.”

Rowan swallowed once, then nodded at the old male. “Then we will just have to make this the fight of our lives, won’t we commander.”

Something sparked in Malakai’s eyes. “Yes, we will, Prince. We will.”

They shared a moment of deep understanding. Of pain, and of leadership. And then Rowan turned and stepped out of the kitchens, transforming with a burst of light.

He soared above the courtyard and over the battlement wall, his eyes already straining into the dark woods beyond, searching for any sign –

But he needn’t look so far. She hadn’t left the fortress grounds, hadn’t even gone through the ward-gates.

Rowan felt his stomach drop, his eyes widening. But not in fear. In wonder.

A torrent of fire coursed out of Aelin, a blast that shook the trees and set the earth rumbling. A torrent cast straight at the ward-gates. And the magical barrier devoured her power whole, absorbing every last ember.

Rowan swooped down, shifting in midair as he moved to stand beside her. But he dared not get too close.

Aelin just stood there, burning more powerfully than he had ever seen, more powerfully than anyone he had ever seen, and she did not stop. She fed her rage, her grief and pain and anger, into the barrier stones and they lapped up every flicker, every spark.

She truly was the Heir of Fire, the Heir of Brannon. Rowan had known it, had felt the beast slumbering beneath her skin. But still, seeing and believing were different things.

Her power rose from within her, a behemoth from the deep.

Rowan looked at her, and he marveled.

Hours passed, and she worked herself into exhaustion. Her fires waned, the colors shifting from whites and blues down to deep reds and pale golds, until they flickered, and went out. Rowan sent a cool breeze her way, the only comfort he could think to give her.

The forest had gone silent, the birds and insects quieted by her fiery assault. But the barrier now seemed to hum with fresh power, the stones crackling and sparking with electricity.

Aelin turned to face him, and Rowan expected to see exhausted eyes and weary limbs. But instead, her face was bright with pain. Despite the intensity of her assault, yet more flames bloomed in her eyes, their golden core molten and ferocious.

Rowan could still feel the wildfire roaring beneath her skin, could still taste her flames in the air. Aelin’s well of magic had not run dry – her power still demanded to be let out.

Aelin just looked back at him, her shoulders sagging under all that weight, and Rowan breathed, preparing to add to her burden. “Word just arrived from Wendlyn. Reinforcements aren’t coming.”

“They didn’t come ten years ago.” Her voice was raw and cracked, though her words were calm. “Why should they bother helping now?”

Rowan’s eyes softened. “Aelin.”

She turned away, gazing into the darkening forest, too far gone to really hear him. Rowan knew she wouldn’t listen, knew it was useless. But still, he had to try. “You do not have to stay – we can go to Doranelle tonight, and you can retrieve your knowledge from Maeve. You have my blessing.”

She turned back to face him, her eyes hard. “Don’t insult me by asking me to leave. I am fighting. Nehemia would have stayed. My parents would have stayed.”

“They also had the luxury of knowing that their bloodline did not end with them.” His words were near-desperate. He couldn’t allow her to give in to this, to give in to the pain until she vanished under its weight. She couldn’t just submit to the fate she had been given. He needed her to fight – to survive, by any means necessary. Even by sacrificing the lives of their friends here. It was a burden he would bear.

She just gritted her teeth. “You have experience – you are needed here. You are the only person who can give the demi-Fae a chance of surviving; you are trusted and respected. So I am staying. Because you are needed, and because I will follow you to whatever end.”

A long moment passed as her words coursed through him. Burning, forging.

Rowan could feel something rising from deep within, and it enveloped him. When he emerged from its embrace, he knew he would be forever changed.

He did not look away.

“To whatever end?”

She nodded.

Rowan reached into his tunic and pulled out a dagger. Her dagger. He held it out, finally returning it to her. The metal gleamed in the faint moonlight, reflecting Aelin’s golden eyes back at him. She took the blade slowly, seeming to recognize the gesture for what it was. An acknowledgement.

Rowan looked into her eyes, into the very core of her. And she looked right back, piercing him through with her gaze.

And he said the only thing he knew, the one true thing. “Fireheart.”

···

Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

[creators-novel]

(Intermission)

           It hasn’t been long since the day Straus and the others freed Koto from Jupiter’s grasp. Koto and Straus were able to repair the damages done to the [Wanderers]’ World, in doing so they also erased the memory of what happened from the general populous, excluding their Incarnates and those closest to them. Red also settled in as the siblings’ new roommate and became better acquainted with their creations. Even though things have been relatively peaceful for the trio, tensions are still high. All three of them have been gripped with a fear that their home could be attacked at any moment; whether by Venus and Crescent, Jupiter herself, or someone else entirely. Straus has gotten into the habit of sitting outside the Space as a self-appointed guardian. He stands watch, doing laps around the Space like a drone.

           During one of these patrols, Koto peaks out to check on her brother. “Straus? Wanna come back inside…? You’ve been out here for a while…”

Straus turns to face her, “But what if any more of those weirdos come after us?”, he asks, “Who knows when they’ll come…”

           Koto ponders on the possibilities, “hm…But what if you’re out here all alone when someone does come and you get hurt because we couldn’t help you?”, she stands next to him and looks out at the infinite Multiverse…with infinite possibilities of something going wrong. In an attempt to lighten the mood, she thinks of an idea, “We should build a castle around our home like Gaia…!”, she smiles as she imagines the possibilities, “A big, giant purple and blue castle with a wall and a drawbridge- and a whole squad of guards to protect us while we work!”

Straus perks up, “…Wait-…Koto, that’s it! Guards!”

“Wait- yeah-! If we have a few people to look after things from the outside we won’t even need a castle!”

“Man…if only we knew someone willing to be a guard for the time being…”

The two stand there for a moment before turning to each other, smiling, and hurriedly running back inside.

           They fill Red on the idea, “…So, you’re going to create some guards and you want me to patrol while you work?” Straus shrugs, “I mean it’s just the three of us here, someone has to do it… I’d ask DarkClaw to help but he’s busy.” Red frowns, “Just make the guards now and then no one has to stand outside alone??” “I’m just playing around”, Straus chuckles, “you can stay in and watch if you want.” “To be fair”, Koto adds, “it would take a lot of energy and time to make a whole bunch of faceless soldiers…so what if for now we just make one really strong guard, and then we can add more later?” “Y’know what?”, Straus thinks on it for a moment, “Yes, that works.” Red smiles to herself as she watches the siblings get to work.

           In a day or two, Straus, with Koto’s input, created a soldier with a simple black and white color pallet, with the ability to scout around the Multiverse and instantly teleport home at the first sign of danger. He was given a serious and stoic demeanor and a tattoo on his eye as a symbol of his Creator. DarkClaw eventually met the boy and decided he could live at his home in [Lightverse] with the rest of his team if he ever needed a break, and the boy accepted it as his HomeWorld. The name chosen for him was Ajax.

           A bit of time later, Koto began to notice that even though Ajax was satisfied with his job as a guardian of the Space, he appeared to be lonely when on his patrols. It was then that Koto decided it was time to add another member to the battalion.

 “Straus! I think they’re ready! Can you bring Ajax in please?”

“Right!”, Straus calls out, “HEEEEEEEYYYY AAAAAAJAAAAAAAAX!!!”

Ajax teleports in, “We seriously need to discuss a better way to summon me…Koto, who’s that behind you?”

           Koto excitedly moves out of the way to reveal a monochrome adolescent, “May I present…your younger brother!” The boy approaches Ajax carefully, “…You’re Ajax?” 

Koto sighs, “I haven’t had a chance to develop his personality yet, but I thought it’d be fun if I introduced him to you and the others now and you guys help him learn, like- training him in combat and social behavior y’know? There are so many possibilities for him…oh-! Would you like to introduce yourself?” The boy smiles, “My name…is Xenos…and, you’re my brother?” “Yeah, I guess?”, says Ajax. Xenos hesitantly shakes Ajax’s hand, “…Nice to meet you.” Ajax steps back for a moment, then smiles a little himself.            The group then go around introducing Xenos to Koto and Straus’ other creations, seeing both of the brothers together made Koto happy too; it relieved some of the anxiety she had been feeling and she knew that their home would be safer with those two looking after it.

[rose-tarts-and-angel-hearts]

Twisted Wonderland OCs; Ignatius Aquarii and Kelly Linette

{Art Credit: Pic crew}

Twisted from Maui from Moana

Name: Ignatius Aquarii

Name meaning: Ignatius; Means fiery one, I chose this name for him as Maui’s name meant “the god of fire” so I tried to choose a name somewhat similar ( hopefully)  Aquarii; I took Ignatius’s surname from one of the brightest stars in his zodiac sign; Aquarius, the star’s full name is ‘beta Aquarii’ 

 Age: 16 

Birthday: February 9  

Star sign: Aquarius 

Myers Briggs Personality Type: ESTP- A

Alinement: Chaotic good 

Gender: Male  

Height: 184cm (6ft)

Hair Color: White  #ffffff  with strands of very pale blue hair  #ebebff

Eye Colour: Very light blue  #94caff

Dominate Hand: Ambidextrous

Homeland: Land of Pyroxene   

Species: Human

School: Noble Swan University

Dorm: Riffmond

Year: 1st

Occupation: Student 

Club: Basketball club 

Best Subject:  Practical magic

Favorite Food: Sashimi, Unagi (freshwater eel), roast or fried chicken

Least Favorite Food: Fried Eggs 

Likes: tattoos, The beach, Telling/ Boasting about his achievements.

Dislikes: People who don’t walk the talk ( In other words, People who does not do what one said one could do, or would do, not just making empty promises. ), nagging

Hobby: Surfing, Playing the guitar, DJ’ing

Talents: Shadow puppets,  Arcade games, Lock picking

Unique Magic: ink world

Ignatius has the ability to send people into an ‘ink world’  in their minds, which leaves them in a vulnerable and dazed state. To explain in detail, the person Ignatius uses his unique magic on, turns unresponsive as if they are in a trance. ( For example In the song “ You’re welcome” Moana was in a different (?) world in her head while her body was spun into a cave so that Maui could steal her boat. )

Appearance

Ignatius is Tall and pretty muscular, with naturally tanned skin. He has light cyan-ish eyes that are slightly pointed and upturned, his hair is white with strands of very pale blue hair, that is brushed back, he has a short blue braid hanging down the right side of his face. Ignatius has many ear piercings and Tattoos, ( on his upper body, neck, chest, arms ) he proudly displays them by wearing a black singlet, and an unbuttoned white collared shirt that is slightly pulled down to show off the tattoos he got on his shoulder. He wears black cargo pants that are secured with a black belt  and are tucked into military boots. His purple dorm ribbon is tied on one of the belt loops (?). He also dons many silver rings and an enchanted charm bracelet made by Kelly. 

Personality

Ignatius gives off a rather..hmm what’s that word...oh oh! F-boy impression, as he’s always teasing and seems to not be serious about anything, but he’s actually quite a sweetheart, going out of his way to help people he considers friends, though he may be quite mischievous and tactless. Ignatius is rather boastful and egotistical, which would usually lead people like him into trouble since he’s a quite rash person,  but he doesn’t get into physical fights, he usually uses his unique magic to just embarrass the person in some way. Though Ignatius make act like a dumb dumb sometimes, he’s actually really smart, both street smart and academically, in terms of grades he comes in fourth place in his level. He can be rather perceptive too and will show care and concern for those he cares about, but mostly prefers to keep things fast-paced and silly rather than emotional or serious. 

Backstory

Ignatius’s mother remarried a wealthy business man a few years after Ignatius was born. ( Ignatius’s father passed away before he was born) As Ignatius’s step-father didn’t have any kids of his own, he doted a lot on Ignatius, thus spoiling him a lot. Ever since Ignatius was young he showed a lot of potential and talent of being a good wizard, thus receiving a lot of praise from his parents, teachers, and friends. This soon got to his head, and he became very arrogant and disrespectful towards people he considered ‘lower’ than himself, he lost a lot of friends in the process, and was out casted by most of them. At first Ignatius  acted like he was fine with people ignoring him, though he actually felt a bit lonely inside. Soon he grew tired of people out casting him but was too prideful to apologize, so he decided to play truant, his mindset was changed after meeting an ‘angel’ during one of his escapes.

Trivia

-Ignatius is ambidextrous but prefers to use his left hand.

-He has 10 ear piercings in total, and over 16 tattoos

-He got his first tattoo at 13 years old ( His mother screamed at him when she found out )

-He has 1 ‘magic tattoo’ on his arm of a mini him, Ignatius will ���activate’ mini Ignatius to dance and perform on the other tattoos he has to entertain people.

-Kelly used to be the one who’ll braid his hair but since they’re in different dorms, he recently learned to do it himself.

-Ignatius is horrible at cooking thus he hates fried eggs as he doesn’t know how to control the heat, so his eggs always end up burnt.

-Ignatius would be in Scarabia if he went to NRC

{ART CREDIT: top-left to right; Drawing done by me ( I know it sucks..sorry for scaring your eyes), Picture from V roid Mobile, Picture from Pic crew. Middle-Left to right; Yerenica from seduce the villain’s father ( I thought they looked pretty similar! Hence why I used her photo here.), Kelly’s uniform link here!, Yerenica, Bottom-Left to right; V roid mobile, Yerenica, V roid mobile}

Name: Kelly Linette 

Name meaning: Kelly; Means warrior or Bright minded ( In Kelly’s case I wanted to utilize both meanings in her name, As I wanted her to be both smart and strong, someone who does not give up easily, and uses her wit and intelligence to solve problems.)   Linette; Means pretty one. The name is also derived from a songbird, the Linnet. ( I wanted to use this as her surname as I wanted her to be pretty  I wanted this to symbolize how she’s good at singing, like how linnet birds are known for their melodious voices.)

Age: 15 (She’s a year younger as she skipped a level/grade)

Myers Briggs Personality Type: ENFJ- T

Alinement: Neutral Good

Gender: Female

Height: 147 cm ( 4′10ft  ) 

Hair Color:  Very pale pink  #ffe9f0

Eye colour: Very light Cyan  #87d6eb

Dominate Hand: Right

Homeland: Empire of Fortune 

Species: Human

School: Noble Swan University

Dorm: Briable

Year: 1st

Occupation: Student, famous singer

Club: Board Game Club

Best Subject: Magical Enchantments 

Favorite Food:  Strawberry and Milk Kakigori  , Spicy food

Least Favorite Food: Cilantro

Likes: Winning, free time

Dislikes: Disappointing others/letting people down, People who shrink away from their responsibilities.

Hobby: Making enchanted Charm bracelets, exercising  

Talents: Singing, weight lifting, reading and manipulating people

Unique Magic: Lucky Stars 

Kelly’s Unique Magic is called “Lucky Stars”. This ability gives her an automatic and continuous supply of good luck, she’s able to use this ability by saying  “ Star light, star bright, The first star I see tonight; I wish I may, I wish I might, Have the wish I wish tonight” , whenever she recites this things will always turn in her favor, be it a test or a battle, her wishes will always come true, she is able to project this into her charm bracelets, though it’s not as effective and acts more like warding charm, she’s only able to use her unique magic for a total of 40 minutes in a day, as it takes a lot of magic and effort to keep it up.

Appearance

Kelly is short and petite, with a very fair complexion. She has long pastel pink hair that is styled in a half-up do tied with her dorm ribbon, her hair ends below her butt. She has big doe like eyes that are a pale cyan, which are framed by long and thick eyelashes.(very pretty! I wanna be pretty too~~) She has a very innocent doll-like appearance. She wears grey checkered uniform ( uniform in the picture! but the skirt ends around her mid-thigh) with a ribbon of her dorm colour, tied around her collar and is secured with a white and gold brooch, she wears black mary jane shoes with lacey white ankle socks.  She has a very ethereal-angel-ish vibe overall. 

Personality

Kelly is very kind and understanding person, accepting everyone as they are and doesn’t judge anyone, she’s a passionate altruist, warm and selfless, sometimes even to a fault. However, Kelly is quite manipulative, she’s gifted in people reading and is natural-born leader, full of passion, charismatic charm and a natural confidence that begets influence, she isn’t always manipulating people to hurt them or for personal gain, she simply wants people to do more or better because it will benefit them or help them realize some potential. She’s likeable and trustworthy and, as a result, others are generally compelled to listen and follow her. Though Kelly can and will purposely manipulate those who treat her friends badly. Kelly has good control of her behavior and words, but she will purposely snap to those who try to use her or her friends, before simply covering up her actions with her silver tongue. “ Can’t you put on a better show for me? pretty please!” * Smiles cutely*  Despite having a natural confidence, she defines her self-esteem by whether she’s are able to live up to others’ ideals, so she’s quite insecure, always wondering about what she could’ve done better. If she fails to meet a goal or people’s expectations of her, her self-confidence will undoubtedly plummet.

Backstory

Kelly came from quite a normal family, if having renowned parents were considered normal at least, her father was a famous fashion designer and her mother, a world-wide known actress, both ‘fell in love’ after Kelly’s mother was scouted as the main model for her father’s brand.  Since Kelly’s parents were very prominent people in the entertainment world, she been in the spotlight since she was born. As both of Kelly’s parents were workaholics, she was often brought along business trips and photoshoots, she was famous among scouters for her beauty and sweet voice, thus it wasn’t long before Kelly herself was offered contracts. One of her contracts required her to go to the Land of Pyroxene for an advertisement, where she met a peculiar boy.

Trivia

- Kelly has a insanely high spice tolerance, she can probably eat a Carolina reaper like it’s a snack.

- Kelly doesn’t know how to use social media so she doesn’t have a magicam account...(yet)

- 1st in her grade for studies. 

- Kelly has wavy hair that tangles easily, it may look super soft to run your fingers through-and it is-only if you can get through the knots first.

- Kelly is very innocent she doesn’t understand about  *cough reproduction cough* 

- Isn’t educated in the way of memes, trends, vines, slang.

- Kelly is gifted in singing, but she’s horrible with music instruments.

- Known as the ‘Angel’ in NSU.

- F e n c i n g 

- Kelly may be small in size, but she’s surprisingly strong! She could probably carry Jack around all day if she wanted to.

-Puppy dog eyes 24/7

- Kelly sucks at computer games or any online game.

@twistinghearts   @nobleswansong​ ( Hehe! I was anon who asked if I could tag you! I hope these OCs aren’t made super badly...)

[queen-scribbles]

Full of Surprises

Here we go, first Inquisition Commander!Fenris AU fic. :D I’d like to thank @lethendralis-paints for introducing me to the idea, and promise there will be Fenris POV in later pieces; this one just wound up sticking with the Inquisitor’s for basic set-up. ;)

---

Kerith Adaar was a hard woman to rattle.

 The nature of her business called for a certain level of implacability; being able to roll with new information or circumstances as if you’d planned for them from the start. These were the most bizarre “new circumstances” she’d ever found herself in--sickly green hole ripped in the sky vomiting demon, sealed by the same green now shimmering under her skin--and she’d managed to keep her head through it all. Adapt. Like she always did.

Which made it almost hilarious that the thing to throw her off when demons, murder accusations, and the wreckage left of the Temple of Sacred Ashes couldn’t do it, was an elf. 

In her defense, this was not just any elf. If his appearance--snowy hair and dull white tattoos that trailed down his throat to vanish under his armor--wasn’t enough to justify her surprise, there was also the fact he was an elf. In a position of obvious authority. In an organization begun under the auspices of the Chantry. The Vala-kos had done enough jobs for Chantry-affiliated persons, Kerith was well acquainted with how many of them viewed... others. 

She managed to curb her curiosity through the ensuing conversation among her new advisors--spymaster and ambassador, both human, and the elven commander. Best to remain focused on the more important issues; how things stood after the Chantry denounced them, spirited debate over what they should do next and who they should ally with to close the Breach for good. Given their shaky standing in the eyes of all available options, it was decided all they could really do was meet with the one person currently willing to speak to them; a Chantry Mother working out in the Hinterlands. There were already scouts in the area attempting to make contact, Kerith could depart as soon as she received word of where, precisely, to go.

With that decision made, they all went their own ways, to attend their own business. Kerith shivered slightly as she stepped out of the chantry’s warmth, weaving sideways to avoid collision with a huffy nobleman in the doorway. He grunted something rude under his breath but she ignored him in favor of pulling her coat a little closer. Her time spent in Ferelden had not accustomed her to cold as much as she would have liked.

Kerith made her way through the village, secured supplies for the pending trip to the Hinterlands, and conversed with some of her new allies as she wandered before finding herself down at the training ground, not entirely by accident. She leaned against a post meant to hold a training dummy and watched her--well, their, this wasn’t just about her--apparent military commander lead what remained of the Inquisition’s forces through rapid-fire drills. He’d armed himself with a greatsword after leaving their council meeting, and wielded it with grace that spoke of hard-earned skill. Just one more angle to the enigma he presented.

“You have good form, Commander,” Kerith commented when there was a pause.

He flicked a glance in her direction, barked for the recruits to take a break, and then joined her. “Fenris,” he reminded her. “As I said before, the title is unnecessary. Did you need something, Herald?”

Kerith shook her head as she pushed away from the post. “Just getting to know people. And it’s Kerith; this ‘Herald’ business is unnecessary as well. I’m not that special.”

“Are you certain?” Fenris asked with a dry chuckle. He nodded toward the soldiers he’d been training. They were all staring at them--her--and a few whispering to their fellows. “They seem to think you are.”

“Wonder if that’s due more to what I am” --she tapped one of her broken-off horns--”or who I am, the Herald of Andraste, who glows and can close the little demon-spewing holes in the sky.”

“Hopefully the larger one as well, if all goes to plan,” he said, inclining his chin toward the greenish shadow that marred the clouds about them.

“Hopefully,” Kerith nodded. The Mark pulsed faintly, in time with the Breach, and she curled her hand into a fist. “And hopefully soon.”

“Indeed, I believe that would please everyone.” Fenris loosely crossed his arms and arched a brow. “But you said you wanted to talk.” One side of his mouth curved briefly higher. “I suspect you have a specific topic in mind?”

“You would be correct. A couple actually, if you’ve the time.” She ran a hand over her hair, capturing one of the narrow dark grey braids to absently weave between her fingers as she continued. “How did you wind up here?”

“I walked,” he deadpanned. “Or rode, when it better suited.”

Kerith rolled her eyes but laughed. “Enlightening. Though I meant more how did an elf get named military commander for a Chantry organization?”

He shook his head. “It isn’t.”

“I know it’s--we’ve--been denounced as heretical now, but that is how it started, isn’t it?”

Fenris gave another small shake of his head. “It was begun by Cassandra and Nightingale.”

Kerith snorted, picked at the end of her braid. “I’m pretty sure, as the Right and Left Hands of the Divine, Cassandra and Leliana are considered part of the Chantry. Or at least were; that may have changed with the whole ‘founding a heretical movement’ thing.”

“But they did not begin the Inquisition to be an arm of the Chantry; it was in answer to a threat. While they would have welcomed the Chantry’s support, this”--he paused to gesture at Haven and their set-up--”was their intention regardless.”

“With or without approval,” she murmured as she tipped her head in easy concession. “Still, folk like us are hardly the typical first choice of Chantry types, you must admit, no matter how well-suited. Especially for positions of authority.” She flexed her Marked hand and muttered, “Not that they got much choice with me...”

Fenris chuckled. “Kerith, you’ve spoken to Cassandra, have you not?”

She nodded. “Only a little beyond the council, but yes.”

He fixed her with a dryly amused stare. “Does she seem the sort to care in the slightest if her actions are typical in pursuit of her goals?”

Kerith laughed. “Can’t say she does. And I see you’re just as skilled with words as you are that sword.” Tattooed, eloquent, combat-trained... She shook her head with a rueful smile and muttered under her breath in qunlat, “Where did she find you?”

“Antiva,” Fenris answered in common with a faint smirk at the surprise Kerith didn’t try to hide. “Hard on the heels of a particularly nasty band of slavers. She made an excellent case, and I could leave my pursuit in... very capable hands. Ones I trusted to get the job done. So I left with her, and we returned only a few days before the Conclave was due to start.”

“Mm.” Kerith pursed her lips. It was a straight forward story, if notably light on details. But she could pry for those later. “You speak qunlat?”

“Yes.” He cocked his head, studying her. “I must admit to being equally surprised you do. From what Nightingale had found, you were raised Vashoth?” He waited for her nod of confirmation. “I would not have expected that to be something passed along to you, under those circumstances. Most who leave the Qun wish to abandon it entirely.”

She smiled thinly. “Some parts of your heritage you just can’t avoid.” Others you don’t want to. “But it came in handy once I was looking for work of my own. Vala-kos were the only ones who’d have me, and some of them don’t speak much common. But we all know qunlat.” She scuffed a foot through the snow, then arched a brow at Fenris. “Where’d you learn it?”

He averted his gaze out over the lake. “I... spent some time in Seheron. It’s always useful to know the local tongues of anywhere you find yourself staying long.”

“It is,” Kerith agreed. “Seheron also where you learned to fight like that?”

“One place of many,” Fenris replied with a small shrug, his crossed arms tightening fractionally.

She was well-versed enough in body language to pick up this was not a favored topic, at least not for public discussion. “I learned from many places as well,” she said, her hand drifting toward the hilt of one dagger. She let a beat of silence pass before changing the subject. “You really think the templars are the better option for dealing with that?” She jerked her chin toward the Breach.

“I do,” Fenris said with a nod, the tension that had stiffened his spine starting to bleed away.

“Cassandra and Leliana made a good case for seeing if the mages can’t give the Mark more power,” Kerith said, part idle comment, part seeing his response.

He shook his head. “Better to attempt suppressing the Breach itself than tempt mages with more power.”

There was a vehemence behind the words that made her raise a brow, but she decided against pulling that thread just yet in favor of staying on track. “You believe they can? To the extent we’d need?”

“In sufficient number, yes,” Fenris replied, rolling his shoulders.

“That’s the trick, isn’t it?” Kerith chuckled ruefully. “It’s hard to find sufficient number of anything right now.”

He answered her chuckle with one of his own. “That’s what we have you for, isn’t it, Herald?”

She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Well played, Commander. I’ll do my best to drum up a sufficient number of allies, whichever course we pursue.” She looked up at the Breach again, bit her lip in thought. “It’s so big,” she murmured to herself. She curled the braid’s tail around her thumb. “Can’t imagine what it’s going to take to close that son of a bitch....”

“It will be quite the effort, whoever you call upon for help,” Fenris said, running a hand through his hair. “Will you have to open it again, as you did last time?”

“Void’s teeth, I hope not,” Kerith groaned, shuddering at the memory of the Pride demon they’d had to battle, one of very few things that had ever made her feel  small. She rubbed her forearm subconsciously, even though the remembered wound had been healed with nary a scar. “I don’t relish the thought of another fight like that.”

“Understandable.” His weight rocked foot to foot and back as he recrossed his arms. “It was quite the battle, from what I hear.”

“Would likely have been worse if not for those of you watching our backs,” she returned with a half-smile. “But yes. It... was not fun. And I hope nothing similar is required to close it for good.”

Fenris hesitated the briefest moment before voicing his thoughts. “If it were, the templars would also be a great help in that fight.”

“...as opposed to mages, who would perhaps be more vulnerable to demons.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s something for me to consider, since mine will apparently be the final word on the subject.”

“You are the one with the Mark,” he shrugged. “You are the one who can close the Breach. That lends your word on the matter extra weight.”

“Just what I always wanted,” Kerith said wryly, which earned a chuckle. She glanced at the restlessly shifting soldiers. “I’ve taken enough of your time, I’ll let you get back to it. I appreciate the conversation.”

“As did I,” Fenris replied, inclining his head respectfully.

He returned to training the soldiers as Kerith walked away, and she couldn’t repress a smile when she realized he’d learned as much about her as she had him. And with hardly a direct question. You’re just full of surprises, Commander Fenris. She didn’t know who to thank for dropping him in their laps--Cassandra, probably--but she had a very good feeling about the Inquisition’s military commander. 

Surprise that he may have been.

[breathings-of-the-heart]

I feel the most loved from physical affection but I can still feel love from any other forms so Im quite flexible in that area. I feel most comfortable when taking care of others so having an s/o who relies on me would be nice. I have a realistic and down to earth perspective on life & I get excited easily. My hobbies are drawing and cooking/baking :) Thank you so much and sorry if it was too much info

Thank you so much for your request, lovely! From everything you’ve told me about your wonderful self, I ship you with...

...Eren Jeager!

~ Getting to know him ~

Eren’s love for you definitely took him by surprise; snuck up on him when he wasn’t paying attention. After all, you weren’t the flashy type who would go out of their way to impress other people for the sake of being the center of attention. But it was that laid-back, kind, reliable nature that drew him in like a warm embrace-- the type Eren couldn’t shake. 

I imagine you being a talented medic in training for the Survey Corps, the strong desire to help people bringing you to the place that needed it most. Most post-expedition days were stressful and the infirmaries were always understaffed, with innumerable amounts of casualties to make your days dimmer. Your resilience was always unwavering when it came to this, however, and you became known to all for having those soft eyes and smiles. Soldiers always felt more comfortable around your soothing presence, taking your hand in theirs whilst you treated their wounds to the very best of your ability. 

The first time you met Eren was when the scouts earned custody over him, and Levi Squad took over in assessing his capabilities. Although the male had regenerative powers, your job was to make sure he was alright after titan experiments and observe the extents of his endurance. This was what you were briefed on... 

...but none of it prepared you for seeing young male in front of you: his blue-green ocean eyes forever etched into your daydreams. 

Eren’s first impression of you was refreshing, and, to be brutally honest, relieving. Most people tip-toed around him in fear, reluctance, or hesitation because of what he was. The first time he transformed in front of everyone, trying to reach the teaspoon that fell on the ground, you proved to be someone set apart from other scouts. Seeing the fear and confusion on his face told you everything you needed to know; it was heart-warming to see a someone he barely knew stick up for him the way you did: waving off Levi squad as they drew their swords in hostility. 

“Guys, calm down, please. Eren knows just as much about this as we do. So just-- back off, alright? Screaming isn’t going to make anything better.” 

You turned around to look him in the eyes and he instantly felt safer.

And from that day on it was pretty easy for him to trust you. 

Naturally, with the amount of time you spent together, the two of you became close pretty quickly. Your down-to-earth personality kept his fiery passion grounded; you balanced each other out. Every day while you did your check-ups Eren would tell you anything and everything: from events throughout his day and what his life was like before the fall of Wall Maria, to what his goals for the future. And every day without fail, he’d leave the infirmary with a cute doodle tattooed on some part of his arm that he wore with pride.  

It was an unlikely friendship, but one Eren greatly valued: he’d do almost anything for the people he cared about, and now, that included his friendly, sweet, personal nurse.

No matter how used to each other you got, though, examining a shirtless Eren for bruises and marks never failed to make you blush. 

~Your first kiss~

There were times when the experiments became more and more difficult for Eren, especially when practicing hardening his titan skin. He rarely showed it, but you knew him well enough at this point to see he was having a hard time. And because of that selfless nature, you took it upon yourself to make him feel better. 

“Eren, wake up,” you whispered one day, shaking the brunette gently. 

His eyelids fluttered open at the sound of your voice, pulling him out of sleep as the orange sunlight of the early morning filtered into his room. 

“What is it? Are you alright?” He had asked as he sat up, the question making your heart swell.  

“Yes, I am alright. But look, I made something for you.” 

Eren’s eyes dragged across your figure, appreciating the familiarity of this person he’d grown quite close to. Your messy bedhead was endearing, almost as much so as the proud smile adorning your face. 

A tray laid out in front of you, a steaming batch of pastries neatly placed on top. Each was decorated with an immense amount of detail and care, beautifully shaped and frosted. They were vibrant and delicate, appearing to have taken hours to make, each topped with fresh fruit and dusted with powdered sugar. The mouth-watering smell woke him up even more as he looked from them back to you. You must have spent all night making these for him. 

“I know you’ve been working extra hard recently...” your voice trailed off in sudden timidness. “...so I just wanted to start your day off with a little something to, hopefully, I don’t know, make it better.” 

Eren was standing up now, taking the tray from you and placing it on the bedside table as his heart constricted. The gesture struck him more than he’d expected, and caught him off guard: no one had done anything like this for him before. 

As he gazed at your features and tried to decode the strange feeling in his chest, a breeze swept through the open window and brushed the strands of hair past your face. They danced like ribbons before settling and a sudden rush of fondness Eren like a slap until all he could look at was your lips. 

“You don’t want to try them?” you asked disappointedly, taking his silence as in-amusement.

In a daring moment of boldness, Eren grabbed you by the hips and pulled you close to him, claiming your lips in a kiss. 

"I don't know what I’d do without you,” he murmured.

~ Being in a relationship ~

It was no secret that Eren had a lot on his plate; as much as he wanted to spend more romantic time with you, he shouldered a lot of responsibility. He was lucky that you understood this, and thankful that you were the one to patch him up and remain by his side throughout it all. 

There are a lot of little things he does that shows you he loves you: we all know the boy is not the best with words, after all. Things like draping his cloak around your shoulders, asking if you’d eaten today, brushing your hair behind your ears, or rubbing your shoulders when you’re stressed. 

Although he doesn’t admit it too often, he relies on you a lot. Eren has lost so much in his life and was motivated by hatred and anger before he met you, so naturally his priorities changed to revolve around a future where the both of you can live together in freedom. 

Believe it or not, Eren loves to cuddle. At the end of the day he just wants to forget the world and have you in his arms as you whisper sweet nothings in his ear. He loves being the big spoon, but there are moments you can tell he just needs to be held. (To which, you gladly oblige) 

Eren absolutely adores when you play with his hair. He will complain if you don’t do it for long enough, and pull your hand back if he is not satisfied. Sometimes you pull away just to tease him. 

He is also very protective. He will pull you closer anytime another male stares at you for too long and isn’t afraid to start fights. (Obviously. This is Eren we’re talking about.)  

PDA isn’t really his thing, but before doing anything dangerous, giving you forehead kisses is a must. 

You always write “I love you” on Eren’s forearm before any mission, and ask him what he wants you to draw next to it. His requests range from “chibi titan” to “big-ass trees” to “whatever your heart desires”

~ End ~

I hope you like it! I’d love to hear back from you on your opinion, so feel free to let me know how you felt about your pairing. Thank you again for the ask, and stay safe/healthy cutie <3

[smashskate]

Jackie Jett - For @thesimsters-stories​‘s Love Island

“Well damn! I’m Jackie, and I can control the weather!”

Name: Jackie Jett

Age: 26

Location: Del Sol Valley

Occupation: Weather Reporter

Traits: Non-Committal, Ambitious, Outgoing

Aspiration: World-Famous Celebrity

Skills:

Charisma: 8

Wisdom: 6

Dancing: 4

Acting: 4

Bio: 

Introducing Jacqueline “Jackie” Jett, the semi-famous Weather Reporter on the Del Sol Valley Network, Channel 7. With hair about as big as her ego, Jackie is known for being loud, proud, and... another word that ends in -oud. Give us a bit to think of one, and we’ll get back to you. 

Jackie grew up in the suburbs of Del Sol Valley, with her parents and two older brothers. She excelled in school, graduating Valedictorian of her class and getting accepted into Foxbury Institute’s Specialized Biology program. It’s safe to say that years of success definitely boosted her opinion of herself, which was struck down a few notches when the job market tightened up as soon as she graduated. Jobs in her field were hard to come by, and Jackie was feeling down on her luck. One day while shopping with her bffs, she was approached by a man who she assumed to be a model scout. It turned out to be Victor Price, one of the producers at DSVN, who offered her a spot as their new weather reporter. With the show’s viewer count draining as online news becomes the new craze, Jackie’s appearance is possibly the only thing holding the studio together at this point, and she knows it.

While Jackie does have some brains on her, her most admirable trait are her wits. She’s real cunning, and knows how to play the game to come out on top. Unlike some of the other applicants, long-term romance isn’t really Jackie’s thing. She’s much more inclined to one night stands and hookups, and anyone who lasts longer gets their number deleted from her phone. Jackie claims to love this lifestyle, much to her cuffed friend’s dismay. While they think she’s crazy for not wanting to get boo’d up, she thinks the idea of being tied down is absolutely sickening. So why would she apply for a show like Love Island, where the only goal is to find true (or true in terms of reality television) love? (Reason number 1 will shock you!)

Questions:

Briefly describe yourself and your life.

“If you insist, LOL! Alright, my name’s Jackie Jett and I’m 26 years old. If I look familiar, it’s probably because you’ve seen me on DSVN, during the 8am time slot, 9 on weekends. Shameless plug, I’m the hottest weather girl in the hottest city in the west! Sure, the job’s a bore at times and I really only got hired for my looks and not my now-useless biology degree, but it pays well and I get a lot of time off to do the things I actually enjoy! I’m not actually as dumb as I come off to our viewers. I’m college educated! Although, it doesn’t really matter much at the moment, so I figured why not have fun where I am now? Also yes, I’m a natural redhead. Anyone that tells you different is a disgusting liar.”

Any Hobbies?

“My hobbies pretty much only consist of me going out and getting drunk. But it’s not that bad! I’ve always been a party girl, since high school even. There’s nothing more fun than going to a nightclub and letting your inhibitions run wild for a few hours! And if I can witness some celeb drama happen live before I hear about it at the studio the next morning, that's always a plus.”

How long have you been single?

“Well, that depends on what you define a relationship as, doesn't it? If you’re talking about any kind of romance, than I’m technically never single. I’m just never with the same person! If you define it as a romantic, long term relationship, then not since freshman year of college. And I’d like to keep it that way, thank you very much. I love to have my options open.”

Why did your last relationship end?

“Again, if we’re talking longer term, he wanted to get more serious and I realized that it just wasn’t what I was looking for. I was 19 and I still wanted to experience so much before getting cuffed. He really didn't take it well, so kinda safe to say I dodged a bullet on that one.”

What are you looking for in a relationship?

“If I had to be in one? I would want the other person to know and respect that I’m not going to be tied down for the rest of time. The whole “open relationship” thing is a standard I like to set with my long term hookups, and I would like that to apply here as well. Also, they should be hot. I’ve been with every type of guy you can think of, but I’ve got standards. I like em sexy, who can blame me? I promise, if I get on the show I’ll try to restrain myself. Keyword try. Also generally don't be a dick. Just because I’ve been with a lot of men doesn't mean I’m less deserving of respect. Any guy that thinks differently goes out the door, sorry not sorry. Oh, did you know that I have Demi Lovato’s phone number? We’re, like, basically besties.”

What are you not looking for in a relationship?

“By this point in the interview I think it’s pretty obvious the one thing I’m super not looking for, LOL! But other than that, I’m open to a lot! Just depends on who’s asking.” *winks* “I’m really not territorial, but if any of the women try to shame me for my lifestyle, I’m not afraid to get my claws out. Women are supposed to support women, I’m not tolerating any bullshit.”

Something else we should know about you?

“Okay, I guess this is where I come clean. Well, to the producers at least. So, basically, for the last few months, our shows ratings and viewership have been dropping. Our analytics team looked into it, and we’re pretty sure it’s because of that Simstagram News update. Instead of watching the actual news, people are going there because it’s quicker and easier to get info. So one day, Victor comes up to me and is all like “I’ve got an idea and I need your help”, which is already fishy because that’s basically code for “I need to use your looks to get the show traction”. So I go into his office and he brings up the Love Island Application. And, like, at first I’m hesitant because I work in showbiz, right? I know how reality tv stars get perceived by the public. But then I realized that if the studio tanks, I’ll no longer have a job, which like, major bummer. So I say yes!

In the end, I’m here to stir up drama and look cute on camera, all as bait for people to come and watch live news. Of course, I get the added benefit of a longer segment on the show, and a boost in Simstagram followers! So it’s really a win-win! Honestly, I probably would have applied anyway, if I had seen the casting call before Victor showed it to me. A bunch of hot guys, hookups, and more drama than a Kardashian-Jenner Simstagram comment section? That’s basically my dream life! And hey, who knows? Maybe I’ll finally get a tan!”

Some fun facts:

Please, make more That 70′s Show references when you meet her. She’s never heard them before. You’re so original, oh my gosh.

She’s allergic to shrimp. Makes for a downer at fancy parties.

She doesn’t tan, just burns. Curse her Irish heritage.

She played volleyball in college. She was pretty good at it, but almost broke her nose, which cause her to quit out of fear of getting a nose job.

She’s definitely a B list celebrity. No, don’t look it up. The internet is full of misinformation. You can’t trust anything.

She watched Mr.Robot and now has tape over her webcam. Sincerest apologies to her FBI agent. He/She’s missing a lot.

She’s a secret drama nerd. She can’t sing for the life of her, but she did the occasional play when she was younger.

Although her brothers know she can make her own decisions, they’re still super protective. They’re like 6ft+ guard dogs that Jackie sicks on any man that harms her.

She's got a tattoo of a ladybug. She won't tell you where, you’ll just have to find out for yourself ;)

Despite her complaining, her and Victor are pretty close. They have that sibling type bond. Only if one sibling was able to fire the other.

[heyktula]

Closer, Chapter Five: Aftercare - Bonus Features

Chapter five of Closer, the first installment in Somewhere in Canada (the Terror kink AU)... is now up! And with that--this installment is finished, and I'm all up in my feelings about it. (My various inboxes are always open in case you would like to be all up in your feelings in my direction.)

For the last time--technical notes first, story notes after, line notes to finish it all up.

Alright, here we go.

Technical Considerations:

Timing: So I put a lot of thought into what I wanted to cover for the rest of the weekend. We're at Sunday afternoon now, and the conference is coming to a close. There's some stuff that happens in the afternoon while they're packing up, there's some stuff that happens at the airport, but it gets to a point where plot is just, like, events that are happening on the page, you know? The actual story is the resolution of the arcs, and Edward and Jopson can resolve their arcs perfectly fine by going to their hotel room and fucking it out. I suspect we'll get bits and pieces of the missing bits--packing up the booths, actually getting onto the plane, and all that kind of thing--through the Tozer/Irving story anyways, since I don't think Tozer's arc is properly resolved until he makes it back to London.

(One could argue (correctly, I think) that the actual resolution of their arcs was probably the ability to successfully navigate through the aftermath of the dungeon scene, having the Ross scene go well, and generally the way that Edward and Jopson have tightened their orbit around each other over the course of the weekend, but it's nice to formalize that a bit, I think, by letting them fuck and have some casual non-sex time together just to verify that, yes, it isn't just about the sex or the BDSM, they are having a nice time together hanging out otherwise as well.)

POV Structure: Please forgive me my extra Jopson POV at the end, I needed it so that we could have one more chance at appreciating Edward's muttonchops, piercings, tattoo, and sweatpants dick, because Edward himself spends zero time thinking about any of these things, and they're all such very good things.

The Full Monty: So this is the first chapter in which they're both completely naked. Edward is fairly casual about his own nudity, so it wasn't really a thing for him--after all, Jopson has already seen his dick, and as Edward would be the first to tell you, the metal is about as exciting as it gets. (Jopson would argue that, I think.) The nudity wasn't really a thing for Jopson either--his body is his body--but Edward's reaction to his body is important. When I'm deciding whose POV certain events happen in, I try to select the POV where there's more feelings happening. So that meant that Jopson was getting naked in his own POV, which gives us that whole entire face journey Edward goes on, the brief distraction of poking Jopson's bruises, and then the rest of the clothing removal, bracketed with the visual of Edward standing there with his visible hardon and his hands behind his head. Technically, the "I'm not scared" dialogue is more important to Edward--Jopson just happens into the right words there--but since we already know that's a big deal for Ned from his prior POV, we can stay in Jopson's head for that here.

Story Considerations:

Comfort Reading: I'm pretty sure that Edward has read Foundation approximately nine million times. I also think this is the second or third copy of the book that he's on, because he keeps reading them to pieces. But I think that having a familiar book that he can just sink into instead of stressing about the whole entire ~~~convention experience~~~ is probably integral to him being a "reasonable human being" and not a "grumpy bastard" (thanks for that analysis, Tozer). I didn't think too hard about this--I just thought about Edward Little for point five seconds, and what kind of books he probably liked, and I thought about the Discovery Service, and science fiction, and then went--yeah, Asimov has the right blend of classic literature and hard science, and Autumn backed me up on it, so here we are. (I also should mention, because I saw some discussion of it on twitter and went wow I don't remember that that I was, um. Maybe fourteen the last time I read Foundation? So I think this is really a comfort read for Edward in that he's been reading and rereading it since about that age as well.)

(As an addendum, I feel like Edward probably has a carefully curated book collection back at his flat of books that are nice and new and pristine and I feel like he probably keeps his battered Asimovs, like, under his bed or something where nobody can see them. (As if he has visitors, lol.) Jopson, on the other hand, probably has a place on his desk for five or six books, because the bookshelf is being used for storage of other stuff, and the desk books are constantly rotating as he swaps paperbacks back and forth with his family.)

Edward's Hands: I do feel there's a very good chance Edward isn't going to be doing up any buttons. I also feel as though just getting his sweatpants on involved some profanity. The thing about masochism, though, is that when you're presented with a new sensation, such as going into a scene bare-handed instead of wearing gloves like you regularly do, often times the new sensation feels good even if it hurts, sooooo you keep doing it, and in Edward's case, he has that extra pressure of Trying Really Hard To Impress Jopson, so, yeah. He's gonna need some time to recover from that physically, and he won't be punching anything for a bit here.

Scene Planning: So the thing that I really love here, that's really not obvious unless you squint and look at the scene sideways, is that Edward had everything perfectly planned out when they were in the dungeon. He scouted out the area in advance. He had a chair handy to put Jopson's clothes on. He talked to the DMs in advance. And then everything went according to plan.

But you put the same man into a hotel room for fucking? He can't remember if he has lube or condoms. His sex bag is nowhere near the vicinity of the place they're having sex. (They don't even make it to the bed initially--Edward is eating ass on the floor, for fuck's sake.) When they finally get onto the bed with the sex bag, the contents end up scattered across the bed, and Edward still needs to get off the bed in order to retrieve the cock ring.

In short, give a man a dungeon and a scene to plan, and everything goes perfectly. Offer to fuck a man, and all planning immediately goes out the window. I mean, they had great sex. But Edward, sweetheart.

(And if we're talking about interpretations that happen when you squint? It's entirely likely that Edward doesn't actually have a whole lot of sex, usually, and that would definitely explain why he's much smoother on the mats than he is in the bedroom.)

The Second Collar: So, the second collar, rather deliberately on Edward's part, did not make an appearance. The first collar, the heavier one, is the type of collar that's used for play. It can be worn in regular kink spaces as well, but it's heavy, and a little bulky. And it's obvious that Jopson is taking comfort from it--he's reluctant to let go of it once he's taken it off to get into the shower with Edward, and it keeps showing back up again on his neck even though it's removed a couple of times throughout the course of the evening/night. The second collar, the fancier one that won't hold up to any kind of play, will be a lot more comfortable for Jopson to wear on a regular basis, but Jopson doesn't know that it exists, and Edward doesn't offer.

It's Significant that Edward is hanging on to that second collar, and if I was going to hazard a guess, I'd guess that Edward is working on a plan to make a formal gift of it at some point in the future. Formally giving someone a collar (as opposed to a collar that's just being used for play) usually signifies an arrangement between the people involved. Kind of like, you know, formally declaring yourselves partners, or whatever it is people do these days.

(As an aside--it could be considered rude that Jopson keeps putting the collar back on when they haven't discussed a formal arrangement outside of play, but Edward clearly doesn't see it that way, so there's no reason for it to come up. It's always better to ask for clarification re: collars, because sometimes there's a lot of symbolism involved with them, but sometimes a collar is just a collar.)

Line Notes:

“Would have been faster if you hadn’t kissed me in the car park,” Edward grumbles.

Trust Edward to find a way to be grumpy about makeouts. (To be fair, I think Edward was very pleased about the makeouts, and grumpy about subsequently having to adjust his dick in the car park just to be even moderately comfortable for the rest of the packing up.)

“Got something for you, if you want it,” Edward says.

I really like deep POV, because we know damn well from Edward's POV that he's been considering how to word this for hours and regrets this particular combination of words the moment it comes out of his mouth, but since we're in Jopson's head, Edward just looks like a proper alpha dominant, and it's hilarious.

He wants to kneel right here, get Edward’s trousers undone, open his—

Tom Jopson has a marked lack of aversion to public sex, and everyone should keep this in mind for *checks watch* six months from now in-universe, when they're back for the winter convention.

“Left my dicks back in London,” Thomas says, deadpan. He’s looking at Edward when he says it, trying to gauge the look on his face.

And if we squint and tilt our head sideways, this is another hint at ways in which relationships have gone wrong for Tom Jopson, and it's that same false dominant-sadist-top / submissive-masochist-bottom dichotomy we were talking about last week with poor Nedward. It's also an indication that Jopson hadn't really planned on hooking up with anybody this weekend at all--he came with his business hat on, ready to sell all of Francis' books, and bootblack for charity, and then, you know, work himself into exhaustion and not do anything other than casually flirt with--whoa, now, who's the pierced guy?

“That’s right,” Edward says softly. “You can handle this. You can handle what I’m doing to you. What I’m going to do to you.”

There it is--the resolution of that internalized kinkshaming that Edward was fighting with on Friday, in that it's no longer something Edward is questioning. He knows that Tom is good for it.

One of the really interesting things about the way this fic worked out is that the entire fic could have gone really differently if Hickey had applied himself to his shitdisturbing in the opposite order of the order that he chose--after he derailed Edward's panel, Hickey basically stepped back to let Edward self-destruct, and focused back in on Tozer, which left a huge open space for Jopson to step right into, and lo, the joplittle happened. If Hickey had stayed focused on Edward, he could have fucked Edward's entire weekend up, and neither the joplittle nor the solving* would have happened.

*Trust me on this, I swear it's related, and we'll get to it in the Tozer/Irving fic.

Jopson’s accent has shifted. It’s rougher, now. He wonders if this is how Jopson sounds at home, if this is how Jopson sounds with his family, if this is how—

There it is! The real accent, underneath the one that he taught himself! It's there! And he's letting Edward hear it!

“Face to face,” Jopson says quietly. This time, his eyes don’t shift away from Edward’s, and Edward loves him for it. “I know it’s not very, uh—”

JUST ASK FOR WHAT YOU WANT, TOM, please, you're hurting all three of my feelings here.

“You’ll have plenty of time to look,” Edward warns as he gets back onto the bed, hard cock swaying as he moves. “Takes me a bit to get a condom on over all this.”

I learned this while I was researching cock piercings. I don't know as I would actually want to learn how to get a condom on over all that, it seems like it's finicky and takes a long time. But, that being said, I'm not convinced they're going to stick with condoms for all that long either, Jopson is clearly ready to pretend he's never heard of them.

Edward shuts his eyes, strokes his cock. Reaches between his legs, tugs on the ring in his guiche piercing, pleasure curling up his spine. “Won’t be much of a show,” he manages.

Edward's not kidding about this--one of the downsides to a Prince Albert is that apparently it generally removes the ability to come with any sort of velocity, and everything just sort of...oozes out. We don't really directly see that here, because Edward's thinking about something else while he's coming, but it's implied in the next bit when Jopson is dragging Edward's come from his stomach up to his chest, ie, it didn't get there on its own, but Jopson is creating the aesthetic that he wants to see, so good for him.

“Might have marked you a bit, there,” he admits.

Jopson's fine by the time the poutine shows up, no worries. Edward slapped him pretty hard, but Jopson doesn't mark easily, so the redness on his cheek will fade.

“I’ll pinch if I have to,” Jopson says dryly. He glances into the shower. “...you’re not just using the hotel toiletries, are you?”

Edward was not, in fact, using the hotel toiletries, but he definitely is now. The jury is out as to whether Tozer took them on purpose or by accident, and, to be honest, I don't know which way the cookie is gonna crumble on that one! It'll be an adventure of discovery.

Eating and looking at him at the same time, with absolutely no care as to how he looks.

It's a love letter to the eating-out-of-a-can scene, yes, thank you for noticing.

“Oh thank god,” Edward says. He relaxes into Jopson’s lap, turns his head and nuzzles Jopson’s bare stomach. “I’d hate to think I’d made an ass out of myself for nothing.”

Only in Edward Little's head would 'confessing your deepest feelings to someone who clearly wanted to hear the confession' be translated as 'making an ass out of yourself'. There's a lot of things to be said in there about previous relationships, but ugh, I don't want to say any of them, they're not nice.

(Also, as an aside, Jopson didn't say it back--but, then, he didn't need to. The important bit is that Edward said it when he felt like he needed to, and Jopson will say it when he feels like he needs to, and they're going to be very happy together.)

"And let us not forget that you also stole the hotel key out of my trouser pocket in order to let yourself quietly back into the room, in order to…"

Jopson is a snoop and a thief and Edward wouldn't have him any other way. I think, in a lot of ways, Edward is used to people being too intimidated by him to play...and Jopson has made it quite clear, in this way and many other ways, that he's not scared, and that he's having a fun time, and he's carving out his own enjoyment, and that's really important.

And, uh. That's it, that's the fic!

I think this is the softest thing I've ever written with the hardest kink in it, haha. I'm really pleased with how it's turned out, though--I love kink conventions, I love BDSM, and I'm really passionate about the opportunities for valuable, committed relationships that don't follow the "standard" definition of what a relationship is and what it looks like. I think the thing Edward and Tom are carving out for themselves is intense, and more than a little weird, but I also think it's exactly what both of them want, and when it gets right down to it, that's the important thing. So there you have it.

I'm going to be drafting the Tozer/Irving fic next, since it chronologically overlaps with Closer, and then I'm going to draft the Fitzier, which takes place at the winter conference (ie, six in-universe months from Closer). Unfortunately, since I want to release them in the opposite order (Fitzier first, Solving second), there's probably going to be a bit of dead air for a while here.

The good news, though, is that Little and Jopson are living their best lives and don't have any major plot-related incidents over the next six months, so I'm free to release little one-shots of the various things they're up to while I'm drafting more longfics.

If you have any questions or anything, or you just wanna yell at me, I'm around! My inboxes are open! I spend more time on Twitter than I do on anything else, but I check my tumblr a couple times a day too.

Thank you for joining me on this journey. Closer (and the kink verse in general) are very near and dear to my heart, and I'm so happy that it's been warmly received.