#and i realised its not the first time i think so

[callmecoke]

Thinking of the first time the 141 discover you on a website for Sugar Babies...

TW: Sex work, specifically being a sugar baby. Mention of insanity, but it's mostly exaggeration; this one's pretty SFW, but I would proceed with caution because the subject matter is adult. Not Proofread!!

This is the first instalment of something I’ll continue writing about!!! And also my first post!!!! Yipeeee😆😆😆

I’m thinking about one tired, slow, dull day with our favourite 141 boys as they sit around waiting to receive orders and go-tos from higher-ups. They’ve done everything they could to pass the time: Polished and prepared the weaponry, sorted and stored old files, and Simon even got desperate enough to fold, wash and tuck in bedding for the second time. But eventually, they ran out of little distractions and were left waiting for orders that might never come. Bit by bit, it was driving them mad. The first to snap was Gaz, who was already pacing up and down the base like a madman. Out of desperation, he grabbed his laptop that he hid under his bed and opened it. He knew he wasn’t allowed to access electronic devices while at base; frankly, he wasn’t even supposed to have them at all. But Price couldn’t be bothered to chastise his sergeant, as he was equally starting to get desperate for some action too. 

Gaz just started opening tabs, looking for anything to pass the time. He wasn’t sure what his goal was other than to find something that might quell his building insanity. That’s when he saw it. Some sort of…dating website? No, not entirely that. It was filled with livestreams, gorgeous younger men and women just talking. He looked further and found it was some kind of sugar baby service where people could come on and interact with lonely rich fellas with cash to spend. Interesting, but not his thing. He was about to exit the page when he spotted your livestream. You were attractive, no doubt about that, but you also seemed a lot more nervous than the other ‘sugar babies’ on this website acted. Like you were new to all this. Your live stream was just you sitting on your bed with the laptop in front of you, only having a dozen or so viewers at most. Curiosity struck him, and his finger moved to click on your livestream. 

The audio of you talking played out of the speakers on the laptop, making the other three men's heads turn in Gaz’s direction. You spoke softly, careful with your words as you talked about yourself and your day, answering questions now and again. It was intriguing. You had each of their attention with the way you spoke. None of them had spoken to a civilian for months. Outside of the 141, they barely even saw another human being with the way they were stuck there. So hearing your voice felt like singing angels to them, one that came to pull them out of the darkness of their minds. Soap and Simon silently shuffled to where Gaz was and leered behind him, watching you talk over his shoulder. Price continued to sit on his side of the room, but he was still entranced by your voice. Even ordering Gaz to turn up the volume if it got too quiet.

Gaz soon realised that the livestream was nearing its end. You hadn’t earned a lot of money, and you were slowly losing steam. But Gaz was desperate. He needed to hear your voice again. To talk to you, speak to you, interact with you somehow. His fingers moved before his brain did, and he input his card details into the website faster than the speed of sound. You had to pay in order to leave a comment and interact on this kind of website, so he tipped you a healthy sum of cash before typing out the quickest sentence he could to get your attention.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

[valerie-is-in-the-cupboard]

Viktor... - Viktor x reader

Arcane Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Words: ~1100 TW: none

"Viktor!" you shouted, but the man never seemed to even consider stopping. "Viktor, wait!" Your desperation was growing stronger with every step, tears slowly blurring your vision.

Was this what he wanted? To disappear? Leaving you behind like you were nothing?

"Did I do something wrong?" your voice echoed as the man you once loved turned away, the dark cloak gracefully falling onto his new body. He wouldn't have even stopped to look at you if it wasn't for Jayce to tell you he was leaving. His body froze, his mind racing with the new sensations he felt. He slowly turned, strands of hair stuck to his forehead.

"No! I have to…" the hurt in his voice obvious. "I'm not…" he hesitated, not sure what to say next. Was he even alive? Was he even human? "I don't even know what I am anymore…"

You cautiously stepped towards him, taking in his features. He was suffering before, you knew that. He lost a lot of weight in the past years… His sickness was getting stronger, day by day, but now… Now he was standing in front of you, on his own legs. Now he was standing taller, the weakness you once saw in him gone.

Your hand pressed against his cheek, but he wasn't met with the warmth he once felt - it was something unusual. Peaceful, but not in a way he was able to understand. It was electrical, mechanical, not human-like. It was like a fire started underneath your palm, but it didn't hurt. His hand hesitantly touched yours, something that resembled a heartbeat seemingly getting stronger. Was it still his heart?

"I know what you are…" you said, the familiar brown eyes looking at you, their softness ever so unchanged.

"I killed Sky…" his voice trembled slightly, your heart skipping a beat. You were the first he ran to when this happened. The first to know everything he never let anyone know. You were the first to see him for who he really was. And now, thinking that you might be afraid of him, it made his body ache in unpleasant, strange ways. "I am murderer…" he eventually continued, his words quieter than they were in those many nights you spent together, hoping not to wake up anyone.

You just now realised the roughness of this new "skin", the coldness in it, a contrast to his gentle touches. Different from the way he used to worship you any chance he got. You were his only reason to continue fighting. His only reason to continue his research - because maybe, one day, your lives will be better. But the roughness was just on the surface... somehow, you could still feel the warmth. The kindness in his soul was as it always has been - unparalleled.

"No…" You softly said, cupping his cheeks. The touch sent a wave of energy coursing through him, not with the intensity of a shock, but with a steady, unyielding pull that reminded him of life itself. It felt like a promise, something soft yet grounding, pulling him back from the edge of despair. “You’re my Viktor…” The words hung in the air between you, their weight settling in the space around you both. Viktor didn’t move at first.

His eyes stayed locked on yours, searching for any trace of doubt, any sign that you might be lying. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. His breath came slower, almost as if he was afraid to exhale, fearful that the fragile connection you had could shatter with a single movement.

Viktor’s forehead found its peace against yours, just as it always did. But this time, there was a tremble in his touch, a hesitant pause before his lips parted to speak again. The gentle pulse of your shared breath seemed to reverberate through your bodies, and for a moment, the world outside of this fragile moment disappeared. You could feel the echo of his heartbeat, faint and distant, but still there, somehow keeping him tethered to you. "And nothing could make me not want to follow you until the end of the time…"

A small smile crept on his face, your words seemingly reassuring him, even if just a little, that maybe he was not as inhuman as he thought he was. "I can't ask you to follow me…" he told you, knowing that it would perhaps mean the end of your life. Knowing that it might bring you more pain than his disappearance would have.

"Of course you don't…" you chuckled. "But I will anyway. I always did as I pleased, right?" the sound of his soft laugh made your heart jump, your ears enlightened as you heard it.

His fingers intertwined with yours, the whole world becoming silent, almost nonexistent. In the stillness of the moment, this touch was a silent understanding, a bond that spoke louder than words ever could. Your souls were connected once again, just as they were always meant to be. Fighting to find each other, fighting to find peace once again and now… fulfilled that they were finally reunited.

"It's not gonna be easy…" he warned, pressing a light kiss on your temple before he moved away, the coldness of his absence making you shiver.

"It's never been… But we managed…"

He smiled and all of the stimulus he felt stopped. Something similar to peace conquered his form now. Something stronger than whatever the Hexcore was doing to him.

You pressed his hand against your chest, the vibrations of your heartbeat resonating through him. You could see his mouth slightly opening in fascination at the intensity of his senses.

"Can you feel it?" you asked. "Can you feel it beating under your touch?"

Viktor’s fingers tightened around your wrist, as if afraid to let go. For a moment, he said nothing. His chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, a mix of disbelief and awe flickering in his expression.

"I can't promise you I'm the same..." he whispered, his voice trembling as if uncertain whether this was real.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, a powerful pain overcoming it at his words. "Whatever IT'll happen, I will face it with you. I know I want this, just please... Please don't push me away." He caressed your cheek, a weak smile on his face as he saw the determination in your eyes. The world became still. It was peaceful now. The past was a distant memory. The future - uncertain.

But the present felt just right.

[monabee-draws]

Some TimeBomb Analysis I felt was very heartbreakingly necessary in this trying time:

Ekko comes to realise by being in this world that Jinx was always Powder, in the same way that Vi comes to reconcile the two 'versions' of her, Ekko sees all the ways Jinx's savvy-ness and cunning and brains were always Powder. He gave her up for dead - like his dream of a beautiful Zaun - a long time ago, and painted the mural to show it. But being here with Powder makes him realise he can still have this is he's willing to take her as she is now, flaws and all.

So we all know Ekko is really talking about Jinx in the line "I used to dream the undercity could be like this", but I also think the opposite is true for his last line: "Can we pretend like it's the first time?" is about the kiss, but it's also about this version of reality. It's about Benzo being alive and Powder being Powder. It's about stepping back from his real world for a second to pretend that this is his real world. He was always going to go back, but just like his use of the Z-drive means that he could theoretically re-do and undo all of his mistakes ad infinitum, this is an acknowledgement that this 'redo' is how he wished it has been, and that it isn't real for him at the same time. Because it isn't the final time he will pull the plunger and reset. But he wishes that it was.

3. Jinx has a very difficult relationship with abandonment, obviously. But these lines encapsulate her journey towards accepting that no, actually, the people who love her will always refuse to give her up no matter how much she believes doing so would save them (including Silco and Isha and even Vander since the enforcers come after the kids for the stones she steals.) Never giving up on her empowers both Ekko and Vi in the final hours of the show. Their relationships with Jinx and the strength of that connection in the fullness and acceptance of all of its flaws and history means that they can do and achieve anything. Not giving up on her means not giving up even when everything falls apart around them. It's the crux of Ekko's time travel ability - he will always remember what really happened in all of those loops, he still carries those scars and physical damage, but he keeps trying anyways and that is what saves the world.

4. Jinx is the 'someone worth building for.' Yes, this line is about TimeBomb but it's also very strictly about Jinx. It's about Jinx needing to know that her life also have worth for herself. Her inventions have by and large been built for the sake of others - her toy weapons to impress the others/keep up with them, the canon for Silco. She rebuilds Sevika's arm because she wants to feel useful for someone again. But she doesn't value her own input into the world for her own sake. Ekko isn't asking her to fix the world here, or to make good on her mistakes. There is no 'fixing' or 'undoing' or even 'rewriting' the way Vi wants her too, the way the Zaunites do with her legacy. There is only something new. And her life is worthy purely for whatever creations she adds to the world, regardless of whether they can undo the past. There's something so achy about that coming from the Boy Saviour. He isn't really here to save Jinx from herself - he just wants her to know she can do that saving on her own.

5. Jinx always knew what she needed to do to break the cycle. But she grew up with too many people who never wanted to let go of the past. In the end, we see her airship fly not towards Piltover (in some desperate rewrite of her failed story in Zaun) but away from it. She gets out, she pursues something new, the image loops but moves towards a new trajectory with a different (better) ending, just like Ekko shows her is possible with the Z-drive.

Two sides of the same coin. She leaves Zaun to see something new, and he returns to Zaun to see it in all of its fullness. I think they'll be alright.

[hedgehogsaretheultimatelifeform]

More?

I edited this on my phone so sorry if there’s any mistakes

He ducked his head down, and you swore you could see a blush creeping up around his eyes, the only skin you can see thanks to the mask. “Not here. We’re in public.”

“I know. Come back to my place, and show me.”

“I… can’t leave my guys, I’m out with them…”

“Where?”

He furtively glanced over his shoulder, then pointed. “Over there, at the table in the corner.”

“Okay. I’ll just go have a word with them.”

“Wait-!”He reached out to stop you as you stand up. You took this as an opportunity to grab his hand and pull him off the barstool, forcing him to trail along behind you as you made a beeline for the table he pointed out.

The three men sat there looked up curiously as you approached, knowing that you’re heading for them, as you have Simon in tow. One of them, the oldest looking thanks to his beard, opened his mouth as you stood at the table edge, until you held up a finger.

“I’m taking him home with me.” You tighten your grip on Simon’s hand, making sure he makes eye contact with them from where he’s stood behind you. “Don’t wait up.”

Then, you turned and walked away, not waiting for their reply, tugging Simon along with you as you headed for the exit door.

“That was… that was cool.” Simon said you as you both exit the bar onto the street, a smile spreading across your face as he grips your hand back for the first time.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean… they’re all going to be sitting back there, asking how the hell I was the one to get so lucky.”

“If you think you’ve won by landing me, you can say it without putting words in other’s mouths.”

“No, seriously. Johnny’ll be all,” he cleared his throat, coating his next words with a half passing scottish accent, “how does he land that by just walking up and staring at them?”

You laughed, leaning your body against his side, arms knocking together awkwardly as you lead the way back to your place. “I’ll be needing to have words with Johnny, then. You paid the right kind of compliment, and listened to me talk.”

He chuckled lightly, and you were sure that if you had better light than the dull orange street lights, you’d be able to see him blushing again.

As you approach your building, you moved half a step ahead of Simon, pushing the door open and leading him up the stairs to your apartment, all the way up on the eighth floor. You opened your door, in all its peeling red paint glory, and let Simon inside, swearing under your breath when the door gets stuck again when you try to close it.

“Let me.” Simon leant over you, placing his palm against the door and shoving, the traitorous thing giving way so he could close it with ease. He turned the keys to lock it, before turning and presenting the jangling collection of keychains back to you. You chuckled and hung them on the hook before taking his hand again, and tugging him towards your bedroom.

“Get that jumper off, now, yeah?” You tugged at the cuff with your fingers, slowing to a stop and smiling as you watched him reach up and drag the hoodie up over his shoulders, dropping it to the floor and shaking his head. Blonde hair flopped back and forth across his brow with the movement, your eyes widening as you realised that mask he’d been wearing had gotten caught up with it. You reached out and cupped his chin, tilting his head up to face you. “Of course you’re pretty too.”

He chuckled, already blushing again as he reached up and tugged his shirt off too, revealing the top of his tattoo sleeve, how the flaming skulls and guns continued to run up over his skin, trailing your fingers over it as you pushed him back by his shoulders, going right into your bedroom.

“Nice stuff.” You shove him back so the back of his knees hit your bed, making your intent clear if you hadn’t already, only turning away long enough to snap your lamp on before, finally, moving your eyes to his chest. He had some other tattoos beside the sleeve, smaller, older looking ones that seemed to follow the same military style as each other, until you looked at the one that swirled out above his heart.

“Yeah.” He saw where you were looking as he sat down on your bed, looking up at you as he brought a hand up to it, almost unconsciously. “That’s my newest one.”

He said, but you could tell that it was already several years old, by your make. Definitely newer than the sleeves, though, and in a very different style.

“Did you get it for someone?”

He nodded, pressing his fingers against it, his eyes darting away from yours. “My family. My mum, my brother, his wife and kid. I lost them… few years ago.”

“Fuck… I’m sorry.” You gently sat next to him, moving your gaze away from it. That’s one way to kill a mood. Asking about a guys dead family.

“Have got anything like that?” He murmured, to fill the silence.

You reached up and tugged the collar of your shirt down, tapping the ribbon that was drawn to look like it dipped beneath your skin and wrapped around your collar bone. “Lost a good friend of mine. It was supposed to be matching, but he… never got it done.”

The story spills out of your lips almost before you could stop it. You’d never actually told anyone what it had meant before. Maybe, it was only out of obligation, because he’d told you about his. Or, you just finally needed to tell it to someone, and in that moment had found someone who would get it.

“Damn. Asshole move, that.”

You laughed, leaning against his side as he locked his arm around your shoulder. “Glad someone said it. Can’t badmouth a dead guy… or demand that he pay the cost of you covering it.” You chuckled, letting go of your collar again.

“Any other good ones?” You tilted your head up at his question, and caught Simon spying down the gap of your shirt.

“Less depressing ones, you mean?” You undid your shirt, tossing it off and unsnapping your bra as you shuffled back up your bed. “Take a look.”

He followed you eagerly, trying and failing to keep his eyes on your ink rather than your boobs. “I take it you like snakes? I got… one, two, three… four, five…”

He counted, tapping each of the snakes he found on your skin.

“Huh. Never thought about it. Guess i do…” You giggled as his fingers brushed over your side, counting snake number fourteen.

“Ticklish?”

“If you still want to land tonight, no.”

“Noted.” He withdrew his hand, biting his lip as he stared at your tits, moving slowly up and down ever so slightly as you breathed. “Doesn’t it hurt? Getting it done there?”

“Oh for sure. But, you only have to do it once.” You sigh, shifting up as you kick your jeans off too, leaving you in just your knickers, revealing your legs too. “Besides, I thought my thighs were way worse.”

He nodded slowly, only half listening as he trailed a hand down one of your thighs, rolling the skin over as he found your last free real estate. “Run out of ideas?”

“Yeah.” You sigh, rolling the leg up into his touch as he inspects the blank space, his fingers catching against your panty line.

“I don’t have any one my legs, yet.” He mused, flicking his fingers up under the elastic and tugging on the seam, pulling the material tight against your skin.

“Really? Prove it.” You sit back, drawing your legs up to your chest, hiding your nudity from him, smiling as you watched him grumble and shuck his jeans off, boxers along with it, as he spread his pale, muscly legs in front of you, cock bobbing between them.

“Damn…” you murmured. “Lots of real estate there, huh?”

“Sure.” He shivered, shuffling closer to you. “Maybe, we solve two birds with one stone. Get something matching.”

You chuckled, kicking your legs out again and tucking yourself forward between his legs, eyeing his thick cock. “Or we could fuck.”

He nodded. “Or that.”

“Come here.” You reached out, and he leant into your arms, curling up against you as you kissed him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you tasted the remnants of whiskey on his lips and tongue when it darted in between your teeth, dragging you into his lap.

His dick rubbed against the front of your underwear, a groan leaving his lips as you felt his hand dip beneath the elastic again, pulling on it harder than he had before, as he leant back.

“Do you like these?”

“Uh…” you shook your head and looked down at them. “Dunno? They’re fine, i suppose.”

“You won’t miss them then?”

“Sure, no.” You said, then gasped, clutching at the back of his neck as he promptly tore them off you, first at the left side, then the right before he tugged the scrap of material out from between your legs and tossing it aside.

Simon pried your arms from around his head, using your shock to drop you back to the bed, freeing up his hand so he could dip his fingers in between your legs, sighing as he found your clit and pinched it.

You shivered under his hands, head spinning from how fast he’d turned the tables on you. Simon was just surprised that he wasn’t the one shaking, that bis hands weren’t trembling as he brushed them over your skin, marvelling at the stark difference between his skin, and the heavily inked one beneath it, covered in snakes, flowers, a misshapen platypus, a racoon with a gun, a dragon sleeping on a mound of gold, among so many more.

“Oi… what you’re waiting for?” You murmured, gazing up at him.

“Oh… sorry.” He smiled, reaching down for one of your legs, locking one hand under your knee and folding your leg up against your body, quickly followed by the other one as he slid his dick between your folds, finding your cunt and sinking his dick straight into it.

The movement punching the breath from your throat as your back arched, the tension quickly dropping as you felt like you went boneless as Simon relentlessly fucked his cock into you, gently rubbing his thumbs over your skin where he was holding your legs up as he shushed you, only letting you lower your legs when his hips were settled against your ass, and you were indescribably full of cock. He smiled you and you, rubbing his thumb over your cheek as your brain tried to describe it anyway, to put into rational terms the explanation as to how you’d ended up here, and not on top.

“Where… where’s this come from?” You gasped out, hips bucking as your cunt squeezing tight around him.

“What?” He leant down over you, jostling his dick inside you. “Where’d what come from?”

“This!” You hit his shoulder, groaning as he leant down again, the blunt shape of his abs putting a tiny bit of pressure on your clit as it got trapped between your bodies. “You coming up to me, all shy and awkward, then you pull… this!”

Simon chuckled, eyes sparkling even in the dim light as he leant down even further, laying his body on top of yours sp he could kiss you, gently hushing you, nudging his nose against your cheek. “Im not good at introductions.”

You laughed, then gasped as he rolled his hips slightly, hands coming up to clutch at his arms. “Then… it’s good that you’re good at everything else.”

“I’ll say.” He murmured back, kissing you again. “You comfy?”

You nodded. “But happy to be… less.”

“Like it rough then?”

“I can take it.”

“I’ll take your word for it, love.” He leant close to your ear. “Don’t want to hear you complaining, though.”

“You won’t.” You lock your hands around his arms, digging your fingers into his skin.

“Good.” He chuckled back and sat back up, tucking himself up on his knees, raising your hips up with him, the change making you gasp before the slow backwards drag of his hips made you whine. You’d been so full, you didn’t know what you would do if you weren’t, so you tried to lock your legs around his hips and keep him inside of you, but it did nothing. His hips were pure muscle, and they were fucking his cock in and out of you like a he was a machine designed for it, up to and including his soft smile as he stared down at you, watching you fall apart around his dick, clenching and moaning, cumming, barely able to keep your eyes open, vision blurring as you stared up at the man above you, his hair glowing in the lamplight as the bed creaked violently beneath you, almost certainly pissing off your neighbours, even as it masked the sound his cock and your cunt were making. It didn’t do anything for the sound of his skin meeting your skin, so it was sure to be an awkward conversation with them too, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care in that moment. Any embarrassment you could have felt was being washed away by giddy joy at the man you’d found, the one currently fucking you as hard as he could, the one that had lost his shy streak at just the right time to fuck you stupid, shaking your grip off one of his arms so he could drag his fingers down over your skin again, on a quest to find your clit and scientifically determine the best angle to rub it at, sending your mind white with pleasure, shaking and curling under his touch, cumming hard again as he chuckled over you, only relenting when you swung your arm, your hand pathetically colliding with his side, a tear rolling down your cheek as he leant down and kissed you, grunting as he came inside you, making the one bit of clarity you had left thank god for birth control as you locked your arms around his neck, keeping him close to you as he pulled out of you and rolled to the side, panting heavily.

You lay your head on his chest, as he kept his hand cupped over your cunt so you leaked onto him and not your sheets, a mournful look coming over his face as you cuddled up to his side.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to stay long.” He mumbled, tilting his head up as he looked for a clock.

“It’s alright.” You patted his side, already yawning. “You just stay as long as you can.”

He’d stayed for ten bloody years. And counting, given that he’d married you. Eventually. Even got that tattoo you’d talked about the first night you’d met. Flowers and skulls, matching yours, flowing down his thigh, out from his boxers as he stood at the stove, frying bacon. You were lying on the sofa still trying to catch your breath from how he’d fucked you seven ways to Sunday, and he was already up, showered and cooking bacon for you. You shook your head, shifting the cushion behind your head. Thank god he was shit at introductions. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.

Ghost introducing himself to a heavily tattooed reader by just sitting down next to them and saying, ‘I’m Simon. I like your tattoos.’

He gives absolutely zero further interaction, just staring at the reader’s ink until they start explains what each one means, pointing out the little details for him to admire.

Ghost who panics when the reader asks if he has any tats of his own, worried that you’ll think his stuff is dumb, cliche military shit. With enough bugging, he’ll push his sleeves up and let the reader gush over him too, his brain freezing again when they poke his chest and ask to see the rest, too.

[celisths]

JJK men reacting to you being quiet during sex | 18+

starring: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Choso Kamo, Toji Fushiguro

warnings: explicit, suggestive, 18+

a/n: i didn't do all my usual boys for this bcs i don't know how much you guys will like this since this is my first time writing something like this, but if you like it and want more pls lmk!!

masterlist

Satoru Gojo

~this poor man was be so insecure

~he wouldn't say anything in the moment, not wanting to make things more awkward

~but afterwards, while you lay with your head on his chest, he couldn't help but speak up

~"did i... not make you feel good?" he would as quietly, almost bashfully, silently praying you would scream no

~and frankly, you almost did! you couldn't bare the shameful look on his face, looking like a kicked puppy

~as soon as you denied his accusation, his shoulders went slack as he let out a deep breath he didn't realise he was holding

~"why the heck were you so quiet then!?" he would whine, pulling you close against his chest with a big, childish pout on his glossy lips

Suguru Geto

~suguru would be more confused than concerned.

~i mean, it would really depend on the kind of sex you two are having. if its sloppy, lust drunk, sex after a while of not seeing each-other then you best believe sugu is way too pussy drunk to realise whether or not you're making noise.

~but if its slow, love-making and you're quiet? oh yeah, suguru is confused.

~he would whisper in your ear, "babygirl? thrust, why're you so quiet?", nipping on your earlobe with his sharp teeth

~you couldn't keep up the facade much longer- truthfully, you were being quiet because you thought your loudness would bother him.

~but when he deliberately bullied your poor g spot with his cock, you couldn't hold back wails and whines

~"atta girl..."

Kento Nanami

~Kento would probably discuss it with you the next morning, over coffee and a delicious breakfast he prepared for the two of you

~he would be sat across from you, nervously picking at the scrambled eggs on his plate as he wondered what the best way to word his next question would be

~"sweetheart, can we talk about last night...?" his voice would be totally level, but his blue eyes looking anywhere but you're face would give him away

~"you were very... quiet. was i displeasing, my love?" oh how nervous ken would be for your answer, his worst nightmare was not being good enough to those he loved

~as soon as you reassured him, a smile creeped its way onto his lips. reaching over the table and grabbing your hand to press a gentle kiss on your knuckles

~kento had never been more relieved

Choso Kamo

~this poor boy would stop mid sex

~he would look into your confused eyes with his own concerned ones "my love, whats wrong??"

~he would be checking you for any signs of discomfort on or around you before you could even reply. as soon as you denied anything being wrong, his little frown would deepen.

~"but... you were so quiet.." he would be very confused at this concept, every other time you two had sex you would be loud and whiney, why was this time different?

~"i just wanted to enjoy the moment with out my annoying moa-" but you were cut off by your sweet, sweet boy slipping his cock back into your pussy.

~"no... wanna hear you baby, please..." and god, how could anyone say no to that cute little voice?

Toji Fushiguro

~as soon as toji notices that you're not making any- nah, holding back your pretty noises he doubled his efforts

~you really think toji fushiguro is going to let you get away with being quiet? hahahaha

~he would thrust his cock a little deeper, his fat head massaging your g spot perfectly

~when you still didn't give in, he got just a little pissed.

~"trying to stay fuckin' quiet?" his thumb started toying with your swollen clit, lips clasping around one of your nipples. he was determined to break you

~a wicked grin split across his lips when he heard your little whines, and hums, turn into wails and incoherent babbling

~"what i fuckin' thought..."

credits to @saradika-graphics for banners

[laswells-ashtray]

hi the post about soap buying ghost the blanket has been on my mind like all day and i have to hear more. if you have more. please. 🙏🙏🙏

this is the only ask I have right now that isn't about Sergeant Price and MacMillan so I welcome it happily. I'm running out of ideas for those two.

Soap bought the blanket as a pisstake, he'd walked past it in Home Bargains in September, it was out with the Halloween shite, and he'd bought it as a joke. Honestly, he'd expected Ghost to throw it away or give it to someone else.

He'd been in Simon's room more than once for... professional conversations between a sergeant and a lieutenant. And not once had he spotted the blanket, even when he was face down arse up on Ghost's bed. And that happened a shocking amount.

But then he walks in on Simon asleep with the blanket and he decides two things: Ghost is just a bloke and he urgently needs to wife up Simon Riley.

The next time they end up sprawled out in Simon's bed together, he asks about it.

"Ye ever use that blanket I gave you?"

"Yeah, I also rescue kittens and bake for the elderly."

Nevermind, he doesn't want to spend the rest of his life with an Englishman. He's better than that.

"Kept it for when the draft gets bad around here in the colder months." Simon admits quietly, like it's some kind of punishable offence that he's using a blanket for its intended purpose. Like enjoying a gift is a foreign experience.

The next time Johnny lands his arse in Simon's bed the blanket is there, coincidentally that's also the first night he sleeps in the Englishman's bed.

They fall asleep and Soap thinks nothing of it until he wakes up at around 3am, Simon is still dead asleep as are most people on base. He's firmly pinned under a quietly snoring lt. Simon is lying on top of him with a hand over his waist, but instead of grabbing onto him his hand is firmly gripping the edge of the blanket in a tight fist. And given how flat the edge of the blanket is, Soap has to assume he sleeps with that same edge in his hand most nights.

It isn't until one day they're all blethering that it makes sense. Gaz is talking about how his sister is expecting a baby and he's already bought the wee lassie her first bear, one like he used to have when he was wee. That becomes a whole other conversation.

"You didn't have a teddy bear when you were a kid? Really?!" Gaz sounds appalled but it doesn't surprise Soap, he can't imagine The Captain Price with a wee bear. He just imagines a toddler's body with Price's head.

"My old man would've had an aneurysm if I'd been caught with something as girly as a stuffed toy."

"I never had one either when I was a kid. Best I had was some ratty old blanket that Mum bought from a second-hand place." His reaction is subtle, the way he freezes and realisation washes over him. Ghost doesn't talk about his childhood a lot and they never ask. But suddenly everything makes sense to Soap.

The big and scary Ghost who spent his childhood comforted by some tattered old blanket. The same one who clutches the blanket Soap gave him so tightly that he worries about the strength if the fabric.

Soap can't judge, he wouldn't anyway but he truly can't because he used to sleep with a ratty old Chewbacca bear that he'd lob off of his sister's head when she would piss him off.

If later on he buys Simon another blanket to give him the choice between the two then that's his business. And if a simple stuffed bear with a silly and all too familiar hat appears in Price's office then that's Gaz's business.

[ganxiously]

This is the part of the helicopter crash fic I started writing today. I don't know if I'm going to post it to ao3 but I did want to share it here. Now, this first update is angst so read at your own risk, but it will be a happy ending, I promise. This is Tommy's pov and I'll be back with Buck's side of things and the aftermath as soon as I have finished writing them —

The silence is stark in the aftermath and Tommy’s ears ring like they are still expecting the screech of the altitude alarms or the roar of metal crashing into rocks and trees. He’s not sure what happened, one moment he was flying his helo back to Harbour and the next, the altitude alarms started going off one by one. He had tried to fix it, tried to pull the bird up even as it became amply clear that nothing was working. They had dropped fast, swinging this side and that with the wind and then his tail had hit the cliffside, sending him and his medic rolling down the mountain in a 30-tonne metal can. He doesn’t know what happened to her, Amy, a new recruit with a penchant for keeping to herself. That’s why they worked together so well, a good thing until it led them here.

“Amy?”, he manages to ask, his voice coming out hoarse. “Medic Garcia?”

There is nothing. Not even the sound of feeble breaths. Tommy swallows the burgeoning feeling of grief and panic and tries to think of a way out. It’s dead of the night, the scenery outside the broken glass of his wind-screen pitch black, the flickering lights of the city not even visible from where he’s landed. He tries to move himself and then immediately freezes as the pain threatens to take away his consciousness. 

This is bad, he thinks. I don’t know how to get out of this one.

He is still strapped into his harness and beneath that, his flight suit is soaked with blood. It feels tacky and slippery against his skin, enough of it that he knows wherever it’s coming from, it’s not good news. It’s not survivable. His legs are pinned and he’s pretty sure the wet feeling around his eyes is blood. His ribs hurt and when he tries to move his hands, his shoulders refuse to bear the weight.

Oh, I am definitely not getting out of this one.

The realisation hits like G during a rapid climb and for the first time in long while, Tommy’s scared. He is terrified, as terrified as he hasn’t been since he was a wet-behind-his-ears boy seeing war for the first time. He thinks his hands would shake if he could move them that fast, his breath would stutter if it already wasn’t, wheezing past the damage, past the blood and tickling at his lips.  He doesn’t want to die like this, the thought occurs to him. He doesn’t want to die at all. He wants to turn back time and return to those scant months when he had been, for once, truly happy. He wants . . . he wants Evan. Beside him, holding his hand, his fingers tracing the lines on Tommy’s palm as he talks about anything and everything that comes to his mind.

Maybe that is the thing about impending death. Its finality, its loneliness puts things into perspective really fast. When he had all the time in the world, he had faltered, he had a thousand and one excuses ready as to why it was a bad idea. Now that Tommy’s out of time, there is not one that seems to hold up to reason. He wants Evan, he loves Evan and he should have told him that when he still had the chance. He should have spent every second he had left loving him.

He somehow manages to take his phone out of his pocket, surprised to see that it’s still mostly intact, except for the one thin crack down the middle. He thumbs it open and there he is, brushed golden in the sun and laughing at something Tommy had said. It’s a damn shame he can’t remember anymore what that something had been. There’s no cell service on his phone, which is bad but it also relieves him. He doesn’t have to make a 911 call, only to tell them they are already too late and like this, he won’t give in to the urge to hear Evan’s voice one last time.

He opens their message thread like he has done so many times these past couple of weeks, typing and deleting messages that never seem to be able to convey his complicated thoughts. He clicks on the typing bar, watches the keyboard pop up and then just keeps on staring, looking at the bloody fingerprint on his screen as he tries to think of what to write. What last words do you text your ex-boyfriend who you broke up with? That I’m sorry and I think I’m an even bigger asshole than you probably think I am?

The pain in his body notches up, so spread out that he barely knows where it originates from and he grits his teeth with an effort to keep himself from screaming. Eventually, it passes and Tommy takes the opportunity to click on the voice message button to the right.

“Buck.”

He hates that name on his tongue. 

“Evan.”, he starts and then stops again because it still doesn’t feel enough. It doesn’t feel like it encapsulates everything Tommy associates with that name — the warmth, the safety, the incredulous how is he real? and the helpless adoration that he just can’t seem to keep at bay no matter how much he tries. So, he gives it one more shot, “Evan. My Evan. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about a million things.”

A cough stops him, the movement jostling him enough that pain rips through him anew and he is left gasping and sobbing.

“I’m sorry I didn’t stay away. I’m sorry I didn’t leave earlier and I’m sorry I left when I did . . . I’m sorry I hurt you.”

He swallows the blood in his mouth or at least, he tries to but all of it comes out with the next cough.

“I should have stuck around. I should have stayed and I should have loved you as long as you let me. I should . . . I should have told you I love you. Even—even if you don’t and that’s okay. You should— you shouldn’t love someone like me but that was no reason to not tell you I did. I just . . . I should have loved you as hard as I could while I still had the chance, Evan. You, at least, deserved that.”

He’s getting colder by the second and the part of his brain that still works, tells him that he is going into shock. Tommy’s running out of time and he’s running out of time fast.

“I don’t want to die.”, he manages to say through the sobs racking through his throat. He thinks he should feel pain but there isn’t anything beyond numbness anymore, “I don’t want to die and I don’t want to go through death alone. I want you . . .”

No, but that’s not right, is it? He doesn’t want Evan in this mess. Evan doesn’t deserve to get hurt again just to accompany Tommy in his last moments. He should be far away, happy, healthy and at peace. Maybe it is better that they broke up. If this was always supposed to be the end, it is surely better that Evan no doubt hates Tommy a little bit now. Maybe, if he’s lucky, Evan will leave a flower on his grave one day.

“I really wanted to be your last, you know?”, he finally says after a minute of silence, the words spilling out almost conversationally, long after he thought he’s run out of things to say. “But more than that, I wanted you to be my last and I’m happy that I got it, even if it’s not in the way I wanted it to be.”

And it's so fucking typical of him, isn’t it? He is being so selfish right now, ruining Evan’s life like this just so he can get some things off his chest. And he knows Evan, he knows what this message will do to him. Evan will go through life with the burden of Tommy’s regret on his shoulders and he hates how tempting that thought is, that if not in his heart, Tommy’s existence will at least have a place in the scars he carries for the rest of his life.

Here lies Tommy Kinard. He’s the bastard that broke my heart once upon a time.

But no, he can’t do that to Evan. He’s been selfish when he kissed Evan the first time, when they decided to give it a second try and when he hurt Evan to protect himself. He’s been selfish every moment that he managed to steal in between.

“Nevermind.”, he breathes out, smiling through the blood that’s threatening to choke him. “Nevermind, Evan. You— you don’t need to know all that. You should forget me. Forget there was ever a Tommy Kinard who loved you. Live a happy life and maybe . . . maybe in our next one, I’ll get to keep you. I’ll delete this now. I would have deleted myself out of your life too if I could’ve but this will have to do. I’m really outta time here, kid.”

He tries to blink away the blind spots around the edges of his vision but he’s fading fast. He fights against the unmoored feeling that is taking over, tries to swipe his screen in hopes of deleting the message but his hands are too slick and too weak to do anything anymore. The phone slips from his grasp and falls with a thunk somewhere near his feet, not that it matters. Not when he can barely remember what he was doing with the phone in the first place. Something to do with Evan. Maybe.

He huffs at his uselessness.

“Evan.”, his lips shape the word with care even though his voice doesn’t quite manage to colour it fully but it’s enough. It’s enough to have that be the last thing he speaks, to be the last thing he thinks about. The name washes away the cold like dawning sunrise on a crisp winter morning and Tommy is at peace, he is content.

“Tommy?”

That’s Evan’s voice. He has to go. He has to answer. He has to—

[ladylokianna]

Careful what you wish for...

Pairing: Aemond x fem!reader (as always i'm not used to use the first person p.o.v. mainly because in English i usually mess everything up by trying to fit verb tenses together so i hope everything is comprehensible). 

Warning: 18+, MDNI, Fluff, but a little smut towards the end (i'm trying to emprove and i hope is not cringe), and again nothing too explicit 'cause i'm not good at writing it.

Fairly ooc Aemond, of course. A bit tender and affectionate with his old grumpy granny Vhagar.   

The title... ehm. Sometimes i find a good one, sometimes no. Sorry.

***

The water of the lake is like a balm on that sultry mid-summer day. You feel as if you go back a few years when, as a young girl, you loved to desert your Septa's lessons so that you could swim in peace and find relief from the heat. You also remembered all too well the reprimand that usually followed those times when you managed to escape, but who knows how you always managed to find new ways to sneak away from the Septa and your damsels-in-waiting to their utter despair.

All is so calm, the sun is warm against your skin despite the freshness of the water beneath you and all is so silent that you can almost hear your heartbit. You like the Red Keep, you like the sense of calmness you feel inside its walls especially when you sit with a book in your hands, but it's still a fortress, and it's impossible to feel completely free in there.

When something huge seems to swallow the Sun above you, you already know who it is: you see Vhagar's shadow heading towards the clearing surrounding the lake and with a slight amused snort you swim towards the shore. Vhagar's landing creates some air displacement, and you hear Aemond giving her orders in Valyrian, before dismounting from the saddle.

"Hello old lady." you approach her slowly with a wide smile, touching the dragoness' snout, which had settled herself into a crescent shape to protect you and Aemond.

"I'm sweating in your place just seeing you in those leathers, you know?" you greet him, chuckling with amusement: how is it possible that he can stand that heavy jacket and even the gloves in that heat? Your laughter dies down, however, the moment you realise that Aemond is serious. "Has something happened, dear?"

"Thank the Gods you are here. We've been looking all over for you, i thought you'd been kidnapped." he scowls you, in a tone that in his intentions should perhaps have sounded stern, but which comes out in a worried whisper. "You shouldn't sneak out of the keep without warning and especially without an escort, it's dangerous."

You didn't think of that, actually.

"I noticed this place the last time we flew with Vhagar and i was hoping to go for a swim like i did as a girl... i'm fine, Aemond, nothing happened to me. You haven't alarmed the whole castle, haven't you?"

Not the whole castle, he replies, but Ser Criston and at least a dozen white cloaks, yes.

He grasp your shoulders and leans his forehead against yours with a sigh of relief, knowing you are safe.

"I'm sorry, i'll be sure to warn you next time." you reply contritely, sensing his tension.

"At least Ser Ammett." he tells you, alluding to your personal bodyguard. "I don't want to restrain you, i want to know you're safe."

You know that, you answer him with a smile. He's concerned, you understand that well.

"Will you give me a little more time before returning home?"

He nods, sitting down into Vhagar's shadow, near her head but far enough from her jaws. Then, he watches you swim for a while, and when you realise he is succumbing to the heat and slipping off his jacket and boots, you return to the shore.

"You must had been beautiful in your youth." you say, caressing Vhagar: what a majestic dragoness she is.

"She's still beautiful." Aemond points out, rolling up his sleeves. "She's just a little bit grumpy but i can comprehend her, since she have to deal with me, hm?" he adds something in Valyrian, and Vhagar snorts softly in response.

"You know Aem, i have to tell you: i didn't think you would last that long with all that clothes on, the Sun is so hot today that you can cook an egg on a rock."

"Is this a subtle way to tell me i had to undress?" he say with a smirk.

That's your turn to sigh, with a fake guilty look in your eyes.

"Not so subtle, isn't it?"

"M-mh. Sometimes you tend to forget that i know you like the back of my hand: you're an open book to me. And besides, as i told you countless times, you only have to ask."

"Care to join me, then, now that you have found out my intentions?"

"...into the water?"

"Well sure, where else? Come on, today it's hot as the dragonfire..."

"Yes, and thanks to you it's even hotter." he replies, looking at the way the wet tunic clings to your form like a second skin. He groans, reaching a hand to your ankle, tracing up along the calf and the crease of your knee and further up on your thigh.

"Later, Aem" you smile at him. You extend a hand in an invitation to follow you. "Come on."

You see him scanning the shore and the lake itself, which is rather calm that day.

"Okay but only up to my ankles."

You point your hands to your sides, arching an eyebrow.

"...maybe up to the knees?" he proposes.

"At least up to the chest, you cannot swim in few inches of water... once we reach the chest, we won't go further, i promise. I'm not asking you to go down-"

"Eh, that's not what you usually tell me."

"Aemond!"

"What? It's the truth." another sigh. "Fine. I can't swim." he confesses after a few moments. "I'm a Targaryen, and we do not swim, we fly."

"That means we'll reach a reasonable distance as far as you feel safe, alright? No jokes, i swear. And in the very moment you feel uncomfortable, we'll go back to shore. I got you, don't worry."

Aemond curls his lips for a moment, looking at you with a strange look.

"Hey, i don't like that gaze: you have something in mind."

"You have to make amend for making me worry." he tells you jokingly.

"Amend? It wasn't my intention to worry you. Tell me then, what do you want?"

"One turn upside down." he proposes, pointing at Vhagar behind him. "Grant us just one turn and i'll join you."

"Here's why i didn't like your gaze." you sigh, looking istinctively at Vhagar, who seems to understand what Aemond is asking: the growl she make is enough for you to shiver.

"Come on, be brave! I'm asking you that for so long and you have yet to see how happy she is when i let her do it. After that, you don't owe me nothing." he then spoke in his language again, saying who knows what to Vhagar, who shortly after shift her attention to you, her pupils pointed into yours. "...see? She's already happy."

"You two will be the death of me."

"Is that a yes? Hm?"

"Yes."

Aemond flashes a smile at Vhagar, and for a second you think you even glimpse a wink.

"You better bring yourself and your wonderful ass into the water, Aem."

"As my lady command." Aemond removes his tunic before running towards the water, diving into it with a loud laugh, leaving you utterly surprised, finally understanding that the whole i'm afraid of swimming story was just a play and above all, what awaits you.

"You... you're so in trouble, Aemond Targaryen." you snort, making him laugh even louder. "Yeah, laugh now, 'cause later, i promise, you'll beg for me to stop."

"Knowing you, you'll be the one begging, and surely not for me to stop."

"..."

Vhagar pokes gently your back with her snout, causing you to lurch forward.

"Easy, Vhagar."

"Why she did this?"

"Because she's happy and she likes you. Less chattering though, come here: water is perfect." Aemond teases you, with a playful smirk.

"Eh, you clearly have no idea what you will have to do to me to make this up."

His breeches suddenly lands at your feet as he looks at you.

"Take off your tunic. Now."

"Look, Aemond, you better not be joking now because you have no idea of what kind of beast you're about to unleash."

"For our sake, woman, just take that goddamned tunic off and make me happy too!"

*

There is something mesmerizing in the way Aemond lets himself go: in those moments you clearly see his armour shattering down and the man you love re-emerge from the depths of his complicated character: once his innate composure has been set aside, once he allows himself to be swept away by the moment, he is capable of consuming you with fierceness -or tenderness- with which he takes you, but at the same time of surrendering himself to you without reserve.

"We should... come here more... more often." Aemond is panting beneath you, still lost in the aftermath of his last climax. He rests his head against yours, smiling as soon as he feels your lips right above his scarred eye, in one of your usual affectionate gesture.

"Uh-huh." you agree, holding your legs so tight around his waist that you can feel his still hard length pulsing into your clenching walls, his hands steady on your hips. He rest a while inside you, a thing he likes to do knowing that you also enjoy. "At least i can hear your laughter again, it doesn't happen so often."

"I know, i'm sorry. Being a Targaryen is no joke."

Sometimes when he's back from a council meeting, you can clearly see the armour he wears to hide his real self so no one could take advantage of his flaws, his humanity. Something you can totally understand as it's not easy at all being part of a reigning family and you know, you know so well that is safer for Aemond to protect himself in that way but sometimes you feel like he's closing even you out of him.

"You okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Just give me a minute, i feel sore all over and my legs don't cooperate." is your reply, moving a little to relieve a cramp.

"Oops… sorry, my bad."

"Stop it, you're not sorry at all."

He chuckles, and you feel him hardening again, but Vhagar lets out a loud snort, distracting both of you.

"You're right, old friend. Let's go." sighs Aemond. "We all need to rest and you still owe me something."

[skull-fvcker]

Morality

❥ Yandere! Arcane Viktor x Gender Neutral! Reader

A/N: cross-posted from my ao3. Old fanfiction from 2021, written way before season two. Thought I might as well post it here—the final episode broke me, by the way.

Summary: Years worth of obsession and fantasy obfuscated his once comprehensible brain. But it felt as if this was a crucial transition. Viktor is convinced he is a good man, but his actions are speaking otherwise against his morality.

Warnings: 7204 words, MDNI, obsessive behaviour, kidnapping, viktor is delusional, yandere viktor by the way, dubious consent(he coerces you), unhealthy and one-sided relationship, gender-neutral pronouns used for reader, no usage of y/n, gentle sex, set in season 1

In all honesty, Viktor did not know how it started or when it got out of hand. It started as a simple fascination and he had treated it as such. Nothing was wrong with that, he was a man of science after all. It was in his nature to feel drawn to things that he did not quite understand. Many years have passed since that day. Before his strange obsession came into his life. Honestly, now that he was alone to think about it, had it ever come into his life at all? Or, by some force of nature, he had forced it into his own life? The ever-changing flow of time halted the very moment Viktor had initially realised that he had more than a problem on his hands.

Viktor thought of himself as a man with morals. He was not the best person, yes, there are plenty of others that shone brighter than he did, but he found his value in his work and ethics. That being said, nothing about him was right. His work had been clogged for year's now; the chaotic office space merely setting as a permanent indication that he had slipped too far this time. Above all else, he had guaranteed himself that his work came foremost, give or take a few instances in which it did not. This case was different, however. A disturbing accomplishment that, when asked initially, he wrote off his findings as evidence, or even lack thereof. Whether or not he was believed, was foreign to even him.

Directly adjacent to his cluttered working place—being neat had long passed his troubled brain, hadn't it?— lie his crutch, sat in such a way that it may fall at any minute. Viktor paid it no mind, at least not at first, but looking over his notes and the observations that he had written down, an idea popped up within what was left of a comprehensive state of mind. Of course, how could he have been so oblivious to forget such a thing, it was written clear as day in these scattered notes. His nimble, cold fingers grasped at the end of his crutch and he tugged it over and dug it into the floor while it enabled him to stand.

Viktor's book laid sloppily in his hand, page open in clear view. "Yes," he breathed, "I suppose this will do." He closed the withered book and shoved it between his left arm and clothed side. Periodically, an opportunity was difficult to come by. He had to do the best with what he had been given, though an itch in his brain told him that: why settle for fine, when you can go beyond?

The aforementioned person that he mentioned, the obsession - the two had never even met before, Hell, Viktor was certain it never even knew of his existence. It was ostensibly a normal upper city citizen with no strange qualities, nothing special about its behaviours nor its personality. It was normal. But it made him feel bizarre inside. He could effortlessly correlate it to that of an over-easy egg slowly cooking within a skillet until the yoke bursts for seemingly no reason and tarnishes the taste of the egg entirely. Just like that, it was ruining him. Granted, neither of them seemed to be eggs, but he believed the metaphor to fit rather well. Humanity always seemed to be so fickle, so easily swayed and broken. Just like an egg.

No matter the weakened disposition he had, nor the lingering scent of death he had become accustomed to, nothing prepared Viktor for the way his certain obsession made him feel. He was intelligent enough to not let these be known, oh, how he would hate the way that Jayce would assume the worst of his sentiments. Would he? Jayce had changed rather strikingly since the first day the two had met. Nevertheless, Viktor never seemed to be the man for love, much less protection of those around him.

Moreover, he was sure that with such dehumanising language and behaviour, nobody would hear his side of the matter. After all, calling the object of your affection an "it," and "thing," definitely does not look good for your compassion. Still, it gave him a reason to humanise his behaviour—if his obsession is not seen as equal, then what's the issue, exactly? To be blunt, it served no purpose other than to make him feel better since not a soul knew of this but him.

Sure, it did not occur to him that he would have strayed this far, but sometimes you have to do what you can to keep someone safe. He was in no state to protect someone on his own, he knew this far too well, he could never protect anyone with this sickly, frail body of his. That is why kidnapping was an absolute must. Reminiscing of the past did no good but to open up older wounds that set themselves up for failure, but the first day they had formally met was an exhilarating experience.

When they had seen him, there was a quizzical expression plastered on their face, and they even confused him for a council member of all things—never attentive, he presumed—but upon realising who he was, Viktor found himself met with immediate scepticism. Viktor could not fault them, it was something he knew all too well, though, maybe he should have saved his anguish for another day. The way their warmer hand held onto his own when he reached out to shake it. Their hand was soft, softer than his at least, and much less calloused. Smaller. Yet, their fingers did not hold the appearance of his own; on the contrary, they looked healthy. Healthier than him.

Of course, with someone who seemed to not have any imperfection, how was Viktor not supposed to fall for them, much less become intrigued with their very existence at that point? Humans were so fickle, he knew very well with how his body had grown to become sicker, but they seemed so robust, so self-sufficient. It was just like any other person, nothing too special but it stood out to him and that was what mattered.

It hurt him, really it did, to see them gawk at him with betrayal, to seem so frightened of someone who wasn't even strong, to begin with, but love came with sacrifice and even if he couldn't help everyone, then he would try to help them the best that he could.

Viktor revolted and fought against his rationality, he really did, he tried his absolute best to make sense of both his actions and what he had done. Within the months, he had thoroughly convinced himself that it was for the greater good, for the safety of his obsession; to keep them isolated from others. It was not the healthiest choice, he would acknowledge at the time, but now he may argue that it was the only thing he could have done upon meeting them formally. He just could not let them go.

Months had passed since that day, but it was fun to reminisce sometimes. Besides, it was even better that, when he had the time, they were someone in which he could spoil with every day. Yes, Viktor took things slow and always was sure to leave them be, yet give them company, but watching them stare at him with a look that he could hardly even decipher anymore, left him breathless. And he didn't even know why.

That very thing forced him into the very dilemma that he is in now. Standing in front of a locked door with a flawlessly crafted key lying in his tremoring hand. It was from excitement, he knew it was. It was like this was his own secret sanctuary where he hid his most precious desire and treasure, his perfect obsession that wept behind locked doors. It was the same every day, no matter how long he would stare.

The door opened with a slight rasp, the only other noise being a stifled sob and the sound of scuffing against the floor, then the buoyancy of bedsprings. His stiff body staggered against the sturdy cane, his hunched over body barely allowing the light to pool in around the walls of the door frame. Every day seemed no closer to his objective. He didn't even know how he had done this. Years worth of obsession and fantasy obfuscated his once comprehensible brain. But it felt as if this was a crucial transition.

Viktor is convinced he is a good man, but his actions are speaking otherwise against his morality.

"Good morning, dear. Have you slept well?" The sounds of chains screamed in his ears when he spoke. All these years and his lover still has not gotten used to their living state. "Ehh... I have already assured you. Good behaviour is rewarded, please understand that this is an absolute must to keep you safe." They were terrified. Of him. Isolation was a punishment and he could never help but feel dreadful about them being punished for things out of their control.

"When can I go home?" was the concern they always pleaded with whenever they saw him. Viktor tried to not let it get under his skin, really he did, but the knowledge that they did not want to be with him weighed heavy on his mind. He loved them, they had to recognize. Their eyes were so passive; it reminded him of when he had first seen the mutation, Rio, when he was a young boy. Curiosity, distress; panic. They just did not understand this yet.

Perhaps all the days that he merely sat there and stared at them with a desolate expression thoroughly destroyed the way they would perceive him, or how he would blatantly ignore their tantrums and screaming, tapping his fingers along the edge of his crutch like a patient father waiting for their child to calm down. Of course, Viktor never mistreated them. The most he did was further isolate them, which explained the absolutely pitiful state that they were in right now.

Reluctance to accept the changing future will result in the fear of what's to come. He understands it's different from what they were used to. But one must adapt to their surroundings and become accustomed. Viktor has already sacrificed so much for them; when was it their turn to return the favour? The ever-changing future is something he will never know for certain.

Viktor sighed, watching them press their body against the nook of the room where their bed had been so delicately placed. The bedsheets had been sent into a state of disrepair, and certain pillows seemed more shapely than the rest. From clutching them too tightly, he inferred. It was adorable.

"This is your home," It was no wonder that they attempted to squeeze themselves farther against the wall when he staggered closer. "I don't have any food this time, I'm afraid," he stood right at the side of their mattress, directly in front of trembling form, his eyes fixated on the plate that sat adjacent to the bed, at least a few days old now. "Though, I'm glad that you, ehm, were able to finish your last meal. Good job." A sigh escaped him after the carefully placed praise fell from his lips and, upon staring hastily at them, he recalled the fear blending within their wide eyes. "However," he found himself fumbling over his words, "I know that you've been a little, eh... downcast, as of late so I have decided that I am going to offer you something that I'm sure you would love," he paused, almost reluctant to reach forward and stroke the hair behind their ear. Hesitant to touch them lovingly.

This situation was a troublesome one, of course, it would be, but he was not a fool in the matter. He read up on numerous articles simply so he can keep things safe for them — falling for one's captor, he had thought about it, yet the turmoil often sets in when he realises that they hadn't developed such a thing just yet. Had he not been too kind? Perhaps, it was the chains around their body? Particular disorders of the mind were so hard to force into existence; was that such a terrible thing to wish for? They looked as if they served more as a pet than anything else, honestly. But that's love, this is just his love. Viktor was well aware that a plethora of things regarding both he and his health weren't precisely right, particularly in concerns to other people. Honestly, staring at them in such a miserable state made him feel almost remorseful.

They must feel so trapped, not to mention secluded, after all, he was never able to spend as much time with them as he would have preferred. He wondered, did they feel imprisoned in their own body, too? Probably not in the way that he did, but it was a suspicion that lingered in his mind. He set his hand on the side of their face unexpectedly, and they jolted back. Granted, he was certain that his hand was freezing. But, Hell, it appeared as if they had almost whimpered at his touch. Still, he had never done anything to harm them, he's only keeping them safe. The images of the mutation Rio sitting in a tank of fluids that he knew all too well now, the thought of it being kept alive despite its pleas not to. Such lengths are just an experiment to preserve life. He understood, now. Not in the way that he should have, but he did.

Maybe that was how they felt. Like a trapped animal, frightened and alone. But they have him, they may not want him, but he is there.

Viktor's knees buckled as they pressed against the edge of the mattress, gently hoisting one after the other to get closer to the horrified individual hiding from his affection, which was already something which he never exhibited frequently.

"I want you to understand," he ran his thumb along their cheek with feathery soft touches, "I know you still don't understand why I'm doing this, or why you're here but rest assured that it's all out of genuine love." When you're going to change the world, don't ask for permission. "Alone. You're lonely and you're scared. I know how you feel. But you're special," their eyes met Viktor's for but an instant and it sent shock waves down his spine. Don't ask permission. "You're special to me, and that is what truly matters at this moment." They were about to cry. Correction, they were sobbing. And it was all his fault. Emotional turmoil mixed with the trauma enforced within them made this happen - because of Viktor.

And despite it all, Viktor could not help but feel proud of his accomplishments.

"Please," their name rolled off of his tongue like a loose screw in his brain, though more akin to a prayer. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, please." Their disobedience irritated him and sent his nostrils flaring, but he didn't allow that to show outwardly. They were already so skittish, why would he threaten them further? "Mm, I will reiterate it as many times as you desire: good behaviour is rewarded. If... If you're good—for me—then, and only then, will I allow you to go outside." His words set off a fire in their brain, he could tell how their breathing unexpectedly halted and they went completely tight-lipped. Was that all it took for them to settle down? An effortlessly broken promise?

Right, they were at their wit's end, weren't they? Their emotions override their rationality. The sunlight would be good for their health, after all. Quite frankly, the thought was unsettling, Viktor didn't want them out of his sight, but if it would make them satisfied then he could make configurations for such a thing. Though, he would have to be cautious to not allow anyone to see them. What if they tried to... escape, in a sense? It was dangerous, he would have to think about it thoroughly.

"Do you mean it?" They said, suddenly. Their head was raised aloft and their wide eyes stared directly at him. "If I'm good... I'll be able to go outside? It's—" A sharp inhale. "It's been months," they were optimistic. Why was it so unbearable to see them so miserable?

For all but a juncture, Viktor felt himself at a loss for words. There was no telling whether or not he would be able to keep that promise, but he could try. They just need to learn to embrace change and adapt, maybe they will forget about it in due time. "I mean it," he said without thought, "you have my word." Did they, truly? You should not make promises that you are incapable of keeping, but just this once, the way their expression lit up and how the tears fell from their eyes, made Viktor feel as if he had done something right this entire time. Without a single word, his hand slowly lowered from their warm cheek, his gangly fingers running alongside the edges of the collar that adorned their flawless neck.

In pursuit of great, we failed to do good.

How would Viktor feel if someone had done this to him? It was a rhetorical question; nobody cared for him enough to go to such drastic lengths to proclaim their love. Therefore, this couldn't have been an unfair thing for him to do. "We must adapt to change," he spoke softly as his fingers danced around their trembling jaw. "You must adapt to change." His voice dropped an octave, gaze falling back onto their face. He had adapted to this change flawlessly fine, it was them that had to figure out how to. They were ultimate perfection in his eyes—there was just one, little issue...

"What are you doing?" Their voice quivered. Viktor's hand slipped down to their collarbones, pinching against the soft fleshy prison.

"Ahm, eh, I am... feeling you, merely. Nothing more," their breath hitched at his actions. "Unless you want me to do more?" An unexpected whimper came from them, in which he did not know if it was good or not, but knowing them, it emanated from apprehension. "I love you, you know that. I would never force you to do something. Think of it as a friendly suggestion," Viktor's blunt fingernails found themselves becoming caught on the neckline of their shirt. "So, will you let me?" There was a pause between them. Most importantly, the air seemed to grow still. Tension so thick that you could slice it in half with a knife.

They shifted but didn't give Viktor a clear yes or no. In all honesty, they seemed to be dismissing him altogether. He could feel their body heat begin to amplify, a telltale indication of both their embarrassment and if he dares say desire. A relatively foolish notion, he was well aware, however, that did not mean anything in his mind, not in the current time. The future could come later, and his life may pass him by. But the future does not exist, does it? Not until you make it so. If he didn't take satisfaction in the opportunity that he had right now, then it may never come up again.

Nevertheless, he took the chance and leaned forward, inch by inch until his face had pressed into what was seen within the crook of their neck. Their skin was soft, warm; pulsating. "I am obsessed with you," both of his hands set themselves upon their shoulders, thumbs clutching against the blade of their clavicles. "I am, truly. My devotion, my love, my obsession for you—that will be the only thing that will never change no matter the year to come. You may push me away all that you desire, but I will come back to you. I love you." His chapped lips pressed in between their jawline and neck, a chaste kiss that he allowed to linger on their skin. They didn't even bother pushing him away. They had the strength to, yet abstained.

We failed to do good.

"Understand my efforts," his voice was barely above a whisper, "you must have seen them. Make sense of my love for you." His grip on their shoulders tightened, but he knew it would never be enough to harm them. It wasn't as if he wanted to injure them in the first place, either. However, it was short-lived, and Viktor's hands fell from their shoulders to their bound wrists, and straight down to their tremoring hands. "I have always wanted to do more with you—to be what most would consider a "couple" yet you keep pushing me away." During his rambling, Viktor heard them mumble something under their breath. "Could you repeat that?"

"I said I'm sorry," they whispered. For the first time, it seemed that they were apologising to him so sincerely, maybe with actual suspicions that something may transpire if they were to not apologise. It was startling, but a chance to hear their voice was satisfactory for Viktor. There was a lingering breath that he could feel tickle the back of his neck, coupled together with their heaving chest. They were scared.

We have to make it right.

Viktor felt his heart hammer against his rib cage, a knot forming in his throat bitterly. This clammy feeling in his chest was unneeded. "Well," he spoke with a sharp exhale, "do you know what would make me forgive you?" As if he hadn't already forgiven them, to begin with. Upon feeling them nod slowly, Viktor pulled away from them and hurried his hands from their own, to their neck. His touches were faint, but loving. Held a certain edge to them, hinted at with a distinct emotion. "I'm very sure you're aware of what I'm getting at," his breathing picked up, just as theirs did, and for a few instants, it seemed that theirs was in sync with his own. To his surprise, they shifted and nodded in agreement, but did not vocalise it.

Anxiously, Viktor proceeded to slowly creep his body forward, even closer to them than he was before. He felt his heart thumping against his rib cage, the wind being knocked from his lungs as he shakily exhaled. Viktor was not the type of man for sex, he never had the time to do it; but when it came to his little obsession, why not indulge? Their consent was dubious at best, but at this point, any hint of acceptance was promising enough for him. He struggled to rationalise his thinking but instead was only met with a cluttered mess within his brain. Viktor couldn't concentrate on anything other than them at this moment. It was just the two of them, and that was all that truly carried weight to him.

His kisses against their skin were light, virtually non-existent, but the genuine love that he harboured for them persisted despite their shuddering breathing; despite their apprehension. Viktor's lips pressed against their tender jawline until he finally met the edges of their lips. His hands were twitching, cupping the sides of their face with his thumbs caressing the skin underneath their eyes. This would be their first kiss together. Would they reciprocate it? He sure hopes that they would in some way, they don't seem to have any reasoning as to why they wouldn't. He pulled back momentarily to stare at them, only to notice that they weren't looking at him at all. That would be okay.

"You're mine," he breathed as he pressed his lips against their own once again. Viktor felt as if his chapped, thin lips were being engulfed by theirs—though, theirs were equally as chapped as he were. He made a mental note to up their water intake. The kiss did not quite feel the way that he visualized it to feel—he thought it would have felt more romantic in a sense. Moreover, he would have believed that they wouldn't be chained to the wall in such an intimate instant. But, good behaviour is rewarded. This was temporary, they knew that, as did he. Just as the kiss was about to end, he felt them lean into it and press their lips into his own. That, above everything else, made him feel like the blessedest man in all of Piltover. Of Zaun, anywhere.

"I love you more than anything," confessed Viktor as he pulled away from their lips. "I'm glad that you're mine." And he meant it.

Their breath hitched just as it constantly did when he touched them. Maybe it was the fact that his hands were gradually examining their body, tilting across every crevice, from where their midsection concave whenever they'd instinctively suck it in out of humiliation, to the quiver of the skin around their navel when his fingers ran along the sensitive region. Viktor's hands were underneath their shirt, his wiry fingers eagerly squeezing the skin. They squeaked at first, his hands were frigid after all but eventually unwound though not peeking at him. Viktor wished that they would look at him like a person rather than an oddity.

The hem of their trousers huddled against their hips, hiding away the most intimate part of their body that only Viktor was allowed to see. For a moment, he looked into their eyes for the right to go ahead, but upon being avoided, Viktor merely yanked them down with enthusiasm pulsing through his veins. His thumbs pressed between their navel and hipbones, in an almost comforting gesture. But it wasn't as if they cared in the long run, however, he could hear their hitching breath. Through dirty-minded thoughts, Viktor's right hand loomed above their sex while his other clasped against their hipbone for support. He was actually doing this—something that he had just as much as dreamed of for years.

"Please," their whiny voice startled his thoughts. "Just... be gentle with me," they didn't seem to be in the mood to fight him at all. That's good. Viktor was sure he had neither the strength nor the energy to deal with it.

His thumb pressed against the sensitive nub below, threatening a gasp from them. "I'll never hurt you," he rubbed their hip in synchronisation with his sensual touches against their sex. "I promise, I will do what I can to make you feel pleasured." His breathing picked up as arousal trickled down his spine like that of the emotions that he loathed. "I want... to see the inside of you. All of you," he spoke aloud, a hint of longing in his tone which he had shoved back this entire time. He wanted them to comprehend his love to its full potential.

Viktor's face pressed against the crook of their neck once again, shifting his hips as he closed his eyes. They were making noises, now, their chained wrists clicking against the harsh metals as they lifted their hands to dig into his back. Secretly, he had hoped that they would call his name. He knew that they knew it. They've spoken it countless times before. Granted, it was always in a fit of rage or hysteria which followed, "I hate you," and, "You ruined my life." But they knew his name at the very least.

Moreover, they were unravelling at the seams. They liked this just as much as Viktor did. They loved him, they had to. Lust and love were on a thin line, so closely drawn together yet had such distinct differences. Could the same be said about obsession? Maybe so, but that did not mean much by this point.

"I love you," he breathed into their neck, his warm breath no doubt sending shivers down his spine or so he hoped. "You feel so soft, so pretty..." His fingers toyed with their sex, jerking in sporadic movements which caused their hips to buck against him, further spurring him on. "Do you like it when I touch you like this? Like I—" his breath hitched when their hands clenched the fabric of his vest, "Like I own you?" For once, they actually agreed with him.

"Y-yes," they let out a pitiful, rueful whine more akin to someone who was used to this sort of thing. But that was inane. They belonged to him. "It feels—It feels really good, I..." Their hips were rolling now, eagerly trying to accept his love rather than pushing it away like they always had been. They were accepting change. They were adapting. "Jus—just like that, please, Viktor—"

And at that moment, time seemed to halt.

They said his name, not out of pure spite or anger, not from him doing something they did not like, but in pleasure. The pleasure that he was inflicting on them. "You're doing such a good job, So good for me," it came out as more of a wheeze than praise, though there was a hint of worship hidden within it. "Are you going to come soon? I want you to come undone because of me. I love you," his lips returned their place at their neck, his crooked teeth nibbling onto their soft skin, further forcing out a reaction from them. Just from their responses and noises alone, Viktor felt as if he was going to come any second now instead, and he hadn't even touched himself. All he could feel was his dick beginning to strain against his dress pants.

It was getting so hot and stuffy, surely he should take off his vest and dress shirt soon. The things that they did to him were things that he didn't even expect. The love he harboured, the desire he held—they were his weak spot. This precious creature. Viktor felt his breathing pick up as he pulled his teeth away from their neck, their delicate skin caught between his incisors.

Once more, slowly, his fingers gently danced around their sex, forcing himself to concentrate and try to block out the absolutely lovely noises that they were emitting. The noises, be as they may, were provided to him involuntarily, he attempting to reject the wail of pleasure that came from them. The squelchy sound of their fluid pooling around his fingers met his ears, giving a sick taste of satisfaction. His left hand clenched their skin a little too tightly for even his standards, the wiry fingers of his right hand working against him, deliberately circulating apart and snapping concurrently, a shudder running down his spine at the howl they made along with the response their body offered. Devoiding much of a thought, Viktor pulled his left hand away from their hipbone, dragging the appendage straight to the front of his dress pants, fumbling with both the zipper and hem in an attempt to pull it away from his groin.

"Oh," he heaved as he pulled away, ignoring the whimper that came from his lover in front of him. They wanted this. They needed this. Needed him. "Would you mind if I tried..." The words died in his mouth as soon as they came out, his left hand hovering above his concealed groin. Surely, they would say yes? They seemed a bit dazed, though perhaps it was his fault for not allowing them the relief that they were so close to acquiring. "I want to... feel you. I may not last very long," he fished his dick out of his boxers, feeling his face heat up to the point where he was sure it was red. "Do you want to?"

They made eye contact with him this time. The humanity, the want, the greed and the fear shone in their eyes brightly, but nothing could cover the telltale signs of love and lust. Viktor already knew the answer, they didn't even have to answer him, he already knew what it was going to be by their reaction alone. This was the key to their heart.

Now, at first, Viktor would not lie when he said that it made him feel a bit shy, or nervous—the thought of them seeing such an intimate part of his body, one of which he knows can be heavily judged based on size, was nervewracking to him. But the lack of disgust in their eyes—or maybe it was hidden between a thick cloud of lust—made him believe otherwise. They liked what they saw, and hopefully, nothing would change the way that they saw him. Their approval is what he strives for. However, that does not exactly matter with how far things have gotten. How many times has he repeated that phrase in his head?

The silence was deafening, but it was enough for Viktor to shuffle forward and shift his weight onto his somewhat good leg, swallowing the rising lump in his throat as he used his free hand to pull down their trousers. After this, he would be sure to give things a thorough wash. "Can you come closer?" He asked as he pulled his hand away. Please come closer.

He hadn't expected them to listen to him, nor to actually push themselves off the wall just to get closer to him, but, at the same time, he was not complaining. "Good job," he praised, his hands returning to place on their hips. Their skin felt so warm, but Viktor could still feel the reluctance radiating off of their perfect form. Now, this was just a question of whether or not he should go through with It. If he should finish claiming them.

The rattling chains served as a constant reminder for them to not fall out of line, and Viktor was sure that they did not want to do such a thing, especially not so close to salvation at this point. Steadily, Viktor felt their thighs wrap around his hips, and though the pressure and their weight being shifted onto him were agonising, he tried to force his way through it. The way that he could feel the tip of his dick press against them—that was like pure ecstasy. He never thought the day would come when they would grind into his lap so sensually, and act as if they had never tormented him for years to come.

"God," there was a slight plea laced within his velvet tone, "I need to be inside of you. Please," as much as Viktor loved them, he could never trust them to be the one providing. Not with how their behaviour had exhibited... less than desirable traits. "Will you allow me? We could finally become one in a sense. I just want to feel your insides around me, I want to feel your body heat against me." Whether or not they found pleasure in Viktor's begging, they offered him a response anyway:

"Shut up," was what they said. "Go ahead."

And with that, Viktor found himself slowly pushing their body down into the mattress, further ruining the bedspread and sheets that weren't even properly fixed in the first place. They still seemed reluctant, as their tone even harboured a certain edge to it, but hell, Viktor could not fault them. He feels nervous, too, of course, he does. Pulling down their trousers fully to their calves, he felt a knot grow within his throat. The thought of someone else doing this to them caused bile and jealousy to rise within his empty stomach, curling and screaming in the back of his mind, yet he pushed it aside in favour of much kinder thoughts.

A part of him wished to be able to twist and manipulate this circumstance, but he knew he didn't want to do such a thing - Viktor wanted nothing more than for them to just become wholly his and only his until death would take hold of them both. And even then, that would not split them apart nor dwindle his love for them. "I'm going to..." There was a brief pause, embarrassment etched across his face, "Er, make love to you," he spoke aloud, though it was more as if he was convincing himself that he was going to, rather than informing them.

There was little to no resistance when Viktor pressed himself inside, but it was such a foreign feeling that he could not help but whimper at the sensation. They were warm on the inside, and not the mention that their body would occasionally clench around his dick. His golden eyes gaped at their face, eyeing the expressions that they would make, all the way until the hilt of his dick finally pressed against their pelvic area. This was embarrassing.

Shamelessly, Viktor pulled back his hips, only to snap them forward with a moan. He tried his best to keep quiet, however, with the way that they started breathing heavily with their knees pressed up against the sides of his thighs, he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. They were perfect, they felt perfect - on the inside, the outside, no matter. He hunched his body over their own, using the strength in his arms—what was left of it, anyway—to keep himself up. Viktor had no clue how long he would last, nor how his body would allow him to continue. But with how it felt, he hoped it would be long enough.

"You—you're... You're big," they suddenly confessed, a slight whimper escaping with the moan that left them. Fuck, they sounded so adorable like that. "Don't... Stop, please—"

A shiver ran down Viktor's spine at the blatant praise that fell from their lips shamelessly, it seemed so heinous, almost as if they were trying to get him going. "Ah..." Keep talking. "You, ah—you think so?" He panted as his hips snapped forward once, then twice. Was he drooling? Shit, he was drooling. "You feel so good on the in—the inside. So warm, so inviting. I would never... want to stop," a particularly loud moan escaped him, which seemed to be a hybrid of both a moan and wheeze. His lover didn't seem to notice nor care, however.

Why would they ever want to leave when they have such luxury in their life? Here they were, underneath Viktor with their eyes clenched tightly, hands balled up in fists as strings of moans escaped their bitten lips. They looked gorgeous like that. It even made Viktor feel powerful to know that he was able to make them feel such a way. Nearly impossible, he thought, if they weren't tied up and reluctant to accept him, they might have tried something devious and that would have ruined every single thing that Viktor had planned. Still, they're accepting his love.

His rhythm wasn't exactly straight nor following any set beat. Viktor felt as if his movements were sloppy and skewed, choppy thrusts and shuddering muscles that he was surprised had lasted this long. He could feel himself growing close, but he couldn't allow himself to unless they had, first. They mattered more than anything else.

"D... Darling," he nearly cried out, "I love you so much—" One of their hands threw itself behind Viktor's head, tangling their fingers within his messy locks of dark hair, gently tugging him forward. A shock ran down his spine at the gesture.

"I know," they breathed, "I know you do." Were they feeding into his delusion and leaving him to feel as if they felt the same, or did they genuinely love him at this moment? The way their eyes slowly peeked open was complete bliss for him, the irises that stared directly into his own with blown-out pupils—love.

He felt his sloppy movements speeding up, all while his body became sore from the extended movements, and all while this happened he felt the drool collect on the edge of his lips, dripping down his chin to their shirt, wetting the wrinkled fabrics. It didn't matter how ruined it would get, Viktor made a mental note to give them an even better shirt. Nevertheless, a knot coiled itself within his gut, curling around his navel and shooting a cramp up his spine in an almost pleasurable manner.

His bottom lip caught itself in between his incisors, muffling a forthcoming moan. "Are you—" a choked moan. "Are you clos—close? Please—" There was borderline whimpering in tone and he could not help but feel embarrassed for it, but the trembling person below made him feel a little better about his childish worries. They nodded without speaking, staring at him through thick eyelashes. They were gorgeous.

Viktor smiled, and it met his eyes. "So am I."

It was blissful, for him, at least—everything seemed perfect and in order as Viktor's right hand clasped around the side of their waist, squeezing the soft, malleable flesh: pliant. His breathing picked up, as did theirs, but he was determined to stretch this out for as long as he allowed himself to. As he closed his eyes tightly, Viktor felt his thumb dig into the dip between their stomach and hip bone, causing a red indentation on the soft skin. Through his pleasure, he could hear the loud sound of their moans below, as well as the sound of skin slapping against the skin; the squelch of genetic fluids mixed. Viktor's eyebrows furrowed together at the sound, his head falling against their chest, forehead pressed directly above their heart. Their clavicle, he presumed. They felt so good, he didn't want to stop, but he was so close.

"Viktor—" they cried out, suddenly, "I'm g—going—" there was a loud, rueful cry, followed by a high-pitched whimper. He could feel them clench around his dick, and then they had come. This sent him over the edge. Viktor lifted his head weakly and pressed his lips against their own, his saliva smearing all over their mouth and cheeks. He moaned into their mouth, pressing his hips forward one more time as his hand clenched their skin, surely hard enough to leave a bruise. He emptied inside of them, the muscles in his thighs twitching and convulsing, his dick soon going limp thereafter.

For a moment, Viktor caught his breath, chest heaving with laboured breaths. Tears pricked his vision when he opened his eyes, and the slobber dripped from his lips. His legs felt as if they were stuck in mud, but how did they feel? As he lifted himself, Viktor stared down at the person below him, completely covered in the afterglow. I came inside, that was an accident, he thought, but they looked so cute like that.

Much like before, Viktor felt a knot form in the middle of his throat, Adam's apple bobbing with each calculated swallow and breath.

Viktor felt breathless, but he felt as if that was to be expected. He stared down below at the barely visible person he had claimed just a few moments prior; his vision betraying him. He rests his forehead against theirs, a promise of devotion. "What can I do to make you love me?"

"Let me go," they whispered in a soft croon.

"You know I cannot afford to do that. You're mine."

[gojoswhitebabydolllashes]

Hi! i dont know if youre taking requests, its my first time doing this BUT. Can i get Jayvik reaction to tattooed reader but they never knew cuz reader is always in long sleeves and long bottoms/pants. 🫶🏻

Hi Anon! I love this idea! I wasn't sure if you wanted them together or separately, so I did a bit of both.

-

HCS OF JAYVIK REACTION TO FINDING OUT YOU HAVE TATTOOS. (Seperate and together)

I hope this was good😭

JAYCE

-he's never thought about it before.

-When he got told you were from the undercity, he thought perhaps you had some kind of markings on you but it left his mind after a while.

-Since he's never seen you completely naked, its never been a thing to think about. Every now and then he thinks he sees a small drawing on your arm but then it disappears somehow.

-one night, while working in the lab, you were unaware anyone was in the lab with you as it was dark, so you took off your coat, revealing your intricate tattooed arms.

-not wanting to scare you, jayce called out your name quietly and even then, he still scared you.

- "jayce!" You exclaimed.

- "You didn't tell me you had tattoos love, let alone ones so beautiful"

- you thought he'd hate them. With him being such a high profile person in piltover, you didn't know if he wanted to be seen with someone with so many tattoos.

- "I really love them _ their beautiful"

-you showed them off every day after that. And even let him color them in.

VIKTOR

-viktor always knew you had some kind of tattoo but he never bothered to ask where.

-since you were both from the undercity, he knew that tattoos were a big thing down there for symbolism and decoration.

-late in your quarters, you sat at your vanity, fixing up a cut on your lip when viktor suddenly came in to ask you something.

Immediately, you went to grab a coat but he stopped you.

- "I knew i was right." he gave a smile

- "you knew I had tattoos?" "Of course I knew"

-viktor was gentle with touching your arms, tracing along the delicate patterns of ink. He was in awe of you.

- "Do you really like them?"

- "like them? Darling, I love them"

-after that, you got a tattoo dedicated to him. And sometimes when he's bored you let him trace them.

---

JAYVIK

-as one, viktor, and jayce both were confused about whether you might have them or not.

-their suspicions only became stronger when they realised you always wore long sleeves and pants, or a jacket. And it's never a cold day in piltover.

-they see your tattoos when you are getting ready for a meeting with the council. By accident, your dress sleeve got caught on a sharp metal and cut the fabric.

-immediately you thought to hide them but it was too late when viktor and jayce both noticed the ink peeking out.

- "you don't have to hide them, my love." viktor put his hand on your shoulder.

- "do you want to see more?" You asked quietly as you rolled up your sleeve.

- jayce and viktor were in awe. Admiring the art on your arms, the intricate ink entranced them.

- "when did you get them?" Jayce asked

- "a little time before I moved out of home, my parents wouldn't let me get them so I did it on my own"

-for your birthday after that, they decided to surprise you with another.

[lilacxquartz]

PRETTY LITTLE TRINKET

harpy shoko ieiri × reader

plot: while lost at sea, you find yourself saved by a monster yet unable to leave

summary: you challenge your circumstances, only not to get very far at all due to a completely flipped decision.

chapter 3 of 5 • previous chapter • next chapter > • masterlist • ao3

3. Grave Decisions

It was becoming a little frustrating at how much of a standstill you seemed to be with your healing progress as your wound simply wasn’t getting any better and given just how different it looked beneath the gauze every time you snuck a peek below the gauze, you suspected that the wound was purposefully being reopened.

She must have been hurting you.

(So that you couldn’t leave—or perhaps so that you would remain weak—but why?)

Given that she was a monster, your mind went in all sorts of directions. Your first thought was born out of sheer paranoia, thinking that she was going to eat you, or something similar, but the sort of relationship that she seemed to cultivate from you was quite different. You considered something personally inflicted next, yet you couldn’t quite make sense of why it had to involve a prolonged wound.

When your feathered friend had returned, exhaustedly collapsing into her nest, you decided to sneak out instead. Hobbling down the rocky spire, you held your breath the entire way, the injured leg be damned. Albeit awkwardly, you shuffled down to where the waves crashed against stone, pushing and kneading violently churning waters back and forth. A truly treacherous place it was; so slippery and shiny, yet too worn to provide any traction.

Thankfully, the swim to land just up ahead wasn’t too far, even if the swim did feel like it was going to rip apart your skin from bone. You chanced it either way, giving it all that you had—pawing your hands forward, dragging yourself forward against the heavy current, doing everything you could—all the while the waters threatened to drag you from the shore, but thankfully never backing up on the warning. Just like when you pushed through before, you made it.

Using your hands and knees, you crawled over onto the coast, feeling the sharp rocks and sand scratch into your skin like webbing dust. A surging wave of nausea rose from your lungs as you recollected yourself, choking out waves out of lodged water—only to be met with the sight of something—someone else. Initially, you thought that she had caught up to you before you even had a chance to escape, but then you quickly realised that this was not her at all.

Slowly raising your head, your eyes locked onto an imposing figure, bearing dusky raven hues, their face unadorned with the same kindness that she offered you.

Dread pooled in your in the back of your mind, registering this particular being as a danger, and yet you remained hopeful. It was all you had to go on in these unforgiving circumstances, after all.

Crouching down to meet at your eye level, this particular beast propped a clawed finger just below your chin to tilt your head up. A noise similar to a ‘tch’ clicked from the flick of its tongue, signaling disapproval.

“What a bothersome thing she’s found this time,” a male voice commented, and in your own tongue at that. You understood that from your observations whenever she would idly speak to you, that she would use a different language. So whoever this beast was, intentionally meant to make sure that you would hear his insult.

You opened up your mouth to speak, only to be cut off by him before you even had the chance to do so.

“It’s a pity,” he sighed, letting go of your chin before letting his hand fall to his side. “Had it been me who found you, I would have just disposed of you, or left you right where you were.”

Taking a gamble with how disgusted this creature seemed to be with you, you tried to push the fact that you were trying to leave. “Look, I’m just trying to go home. Can you tell me where to—”

“—leave?” he cut you off again, tilting his head off to the side as he regarded you coldly before pushing you back against the dirt, keeping you lodged in place instead. “You should have asked me that yesterday,” he mused, “but no, it’s within the best interest of the island to keep you right where you are.”

“But, I can just leave and—” you tried once more, only for him to seemingly talk over you again.

“—it’s far too late for that, you foolish thing,” he quipped, squeezing tighter against your shoulder in a firm pinch, “but if there’s one of you that slips past us, then who’s to say you won’t bring back hundreds more of you as the last one did?”

You blinked.

He seemed to sigh as he let go of you. “Do you really have to go home? You’ll be creating more trouble than it’s worth by choosing to do so.”

Once again, you tried to drive your point across. “Y-yes…?”

He tutted once more, however, “What a troublesome species.”

Just as he was in the process of berating you for seemingly no reason at all, however, yet another bird-like creature seemed to land. Dusty white feathers descended onto the scene, landing with almost skilled precision. You avoided exchanging eye contact with this being too, already intimidated by the pulling allure of their deep blue gaze.

“Shoko will be upset if you hurt this one,” it replied in a mutual tongue, as though trying to convey reason within your hearing range. Shoko. That must have been what she was called. You wondered about their names too.

“Like she isn’t already doing something similar,” the other one scoffed, using the talons on his feet to pull back the seaweed, highlighting red scratchings just below, “see? Besides, Satoru, I’m not going to hurt this one. I’m doing what she wants. Confinement, was it?” he looked back at you, trying to remember a word, “That little thing that humans claim they do when they mean to imprison instead.”

“Just don’t injure this one more than is needed,” the silvery one protested.

“I’ll gladly leave the pain up to her,” he scoffed in response, “I wouldn’t want to taint my claws too much, would I?” he added before jumping up into the air, allowing his fanning wings to lift him back into the air, flying away. His friend seemed to follow, but you didn’t appear to be alone just yet, with the beast you did know, returning to find you.

She didn’t accuse nor ask you anything compromising, rather hurriedly closing the distance between the two of you within the blink of an eye. With practiced care, she inspected the damage left behind by her friend, seeming to examine you with frantic haste. Such care however had confused you, given that she was so happy before to inflict pain on your sleeping form just a good few hours ago, leaving you to wonder just what her angle was.

Finally dry and recovered from both the prior interaction as well as the hefty swim, you tried to choke out a confrontation, despite your voice sounding shakier than you would have liked it to be, “I know you’ve been hurting me,” you accused, “those scratches… the bleeding…” you listed before pausing, “this can’t continue, I’ll only get sick if you keep this up. I can’t always be injured. I’ll die eventually. So please, let… me… go.”

Her eyebrows knitted in slight frustration as her feathered fingers continued to pat at your cheek with delicate brushes, her clawed fingertips gently dabbing at your tender flesh—poking, but not piercing—although the control surely slipped as she tried to hold it all together. From the way she searched intricately in her mind for the right words, led you to believe that she might have been holding something from you.

“I… can’t,” was all she could initially muster before taking a deep breath to continue. “Humans have come here before to destroy our land… so there aren’t that many of us left,” she explained, trying to reel you closer as if afraid to let you slip away for even a second.

“I don’t want to destroy your home,” you assured her, “I just want to go home.”

Her eyes drifted around the area, reducing her voice to just a mere whisper as if careful to disclose the dire circumstances, “If you leave, my friends might kill you.”

Your eyes fluttered in surprise. “W-what?”

“This whole island is a secret to humans,” she replied, leaning even closer, trying to desperately explain, “most can’t see it unless they’re close to death, or in a mental decline, so our visitors are often desperate. Many get killed off if they reach the shores, others, we leave to drown at the site of the accident.”

“...Like my ship,” you murmured, catching on, “was anyone else alive?”

Shoko considered responding with the truth, but she feigned ignorance instead by shrugging her shoulders. “I am not sure.”

“E-even so,” you stammered, “I won’t tell anyone.”

She shook her head in response. “It won’t be enough,” she sadly confided, seeming to once again retain some information from you before doctoring her response into something different, “you’ve chang… nevermind, you’ve seen too much, is what I mean. You won’t be able to go back home. It’s a risk that we can’t take.”

“Wait,” you caught on, “change?”

Her eyes narrowed in annoyance, partially at herself for letting such information slip. It seemed as though she was internally warring with her inner mind at just how much she should share, choosing ultimately to once again, hide you away from the full truth.

“A slip of the tongue,” she curtly smiled, “I meant to say that it isn’t safe. I won’t injure you anymore and you can recover, but understand that I don’t want to gracefully harm you. I just want to keep you alive. Is that a possibility for us?”

With a weary nod, you sighed as you supposed that you didn’t have that much of a choice to begin with. Accepting the terms, you calmed your protest, making do with your current condition for now. You weren’t completely done with your attempts to leave this strange place just yet, but you knew that you had to buy your own time to rightfully plot and execute this whole matter without being caught by either of them again.

~~~

The days passed on with greater ease now that your existence wasn’t confined to staying put at the nest and with a great deal of caution, she pushed you into her friend group with the other two half-monsters. It was a rocky start, but you slowly got used to having her, Satoru, and Suguru around, even if it was clear that Suguru still deeply disliked your company. Satoru luckily for you, was the complete opposite. Curious, kind, and forgiving.

Shoko was something in between. She was reluctant in her prejudices against humans, likely for the same reason the other two were, but also still very much interested in keeping you around for her personal interest. She wanted nothing more than to simply sit down and learn from, as well as, all about you, curious to understand just why on earth humans seemed to have such an exhausting life going on back in the main parts of the globe, calling the everyday life you were from, ‘exhausting’.

True to her word as well, she let you finally heal without interruption, allowing your leg to mend itself towards a scar-free state, and just as it all started to get better, you found yourself locked onto a peculiar sight just over the horizon.

A large ship, just barely caught by your hopeful eyes. You hoped that they would somehow be search and rescue boats, perhaps by some miracle spotting you in the far distance, or how ever your delusionally planted hope went and so you jumped up and down from the spot, guiding them to your location.

But then you remembered a small detail, something about this island not being seen to the naked eye unless certain conditions were met.

Indeed, something was very wrong here. Their rough demeanours, their gruff appearances, and their body language eluded sheer hostility from their presence alone as they cruised closer towards the shore.

You had heard rumours before, but you thought that, perhaps naively, they were completely wiped out by now, a long-buried terror that ceased to exist from the late 1800s, and yet…

Locking eyes with one of them, you could tell very well.

That these were pirates.

So not only had you doomed yourself, but likely them too.

this is part 3 of lilac’s bite sized yandere nightmares

[rivendell-poet]

Hey! I wanted to start off by saying I ADORE your writing!

I was wondering if you’d write a first kiss list for thorin’s company like you did with the fellowship? I think it’d be so cute with a human reader who’s pretty short, she’d be around 5’1”-5’2”-ish?

Hope you have an absolutely wonderful rest of your day love, happy writing! 💝☺️

Hi! Sorry it's still taking me so long to clear my inbox, but I'm slowly getting there. I hope you have a wonderful day as well darling ❤️

*･༓˚✧ ❝𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬❞ ‧͙⁺˚༓˚✧ « scenarios »

○ Thorin ○ Fíli ○ Kíli ○ Dwalin ○ Bofur ○ Bilbo ○

Gender-neutral reader | Wordcount : 1.1k | TWs : None

𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧

✧ Thankfully, he’s just tall enough to be able to kiss you without you needing to bend down. A fact that, when the two of you are together, his mind keeps trying to remind him of.

✧ But he wants to make sure that it’s a special moment, a moment worthy of the two of you.

✧ Eventually, it happens when he’s first showing you the Halls of Erebor for the first time.

✧ The feeling of happiness is finally all around, almost infectious, and he can see the wonder in your eyes as you look around at everything else.

✧ Looking around at the treasure, you can finally appreciate its beauty. There’s a grin on your face; all that you’d worked for is finally coming to fruition.

✧ And then you turn around, and Thorin is standing directly behind you.

✧ There’s love in his eyes - but it isn’t directed at the treasure hoard. It’s directed at you.

✧ Stepping forward, he bridges the gap between you and looks slightly up.

✧ Leaning forward as you well, the two of you kiss.

✧ Even in the Halls of Erebor, the most perfect thing in their (to him) is you.

𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐢

✧ The two of you had been dancing around each other for a while, when he’d finally confessed.

✧ And now the two of you are dancing around your first kiss.

✧ Every now and then the moment seems almost perfect, but something interrupts you. And in the end it’s not the moment you were expecting at all.

✧ Kíli and Tauriel are spending slightly too much time together for your liking, although at least it means you and Fíli both have something to laugh and tease about.

✧ It’s then, when you’re laughing about it, that you mention something about them kissing.

✧ The comment is so small, but somehow - amid the laughter - the two of you catch each other's eyes.

✧ And the gap somehow closes, him enclosing more quickly and moving as fast as he can to close the gap.

✧ When you properly kiss he isn’t quite needy, but there’s something passionate in it, and both of you recognise how much the other wants this.

✧ After a few seconds he pulls away, his mouth about to ask a question. If you wanted it, if you enjoyed it as much as he does.

✧ Kissing him again is your way of answering ‘yes’.

𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐢

✧ He tries not to make it too obvious how much he wants to kiss you, although it’s fairly obvious.

✧ At first the glances are more subtle - less noticeable more because of how much his eyes flitted around, not wanting to be seen staring at you.

✧ But as you grow more comfortable around each other, and he stares, he doesn’t look away as soon as you realise. Instead he blushes, giving a sheepish grin before turning.

✧ The two of you are talking together, and you feel his gaze briefly go to your lips. His cheeks begin to go pink again, but this time you will Kíli not to look away. 

✧ And he doesn’t.

✧ Leaning slightly closer, he takes a deep breath, “May I- please?”

✧ “Yes.” You barely breath back, but it’s still your lips that press to his first (although he’s the one to deepen it).

✧ Eventually coming apart Kíli‘s eyes are shining, and his whole face is glowing with a smile. “You’re… perfect.”

𝐃𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧

✧ You notice him staring as well, although the warrior has much more decency. He still blushes just as much, but he looks away quickly as well - sometimes with a muttered apology.

✧ He’s also tall enough for you to not have to bend over to kiss him. A fact that comes into his mind slightly too often for his liking.

✧ Dwalin truly doesn’t try to imagine kissing you, even when you begin courting. He wants to take this slowly, to be a gentleman.

✧ And, in the end, it’s you who initiates the contact.

✧ There’s only a few steps between you when you suddenly step forward more, before the words catch in your throat.

✧ But your intention is clear, and as he moves slightly closer you don’t move away. Gently, the two of you both move into each other to close the gap - his hands light going up into your hair, and of course you don’t mind.

✧ During the kiss he’s ever so light with his touch, it’s up to you to deepen it. You can tell he wants a little more, but that he’ll always wait for you. And with a second kiss you reassure him that you want this too.

𝐁𝐨𝐟𝐮𝐫

✧ Early in the relationship, it becomes obvious the two of you want to kiss. That there’s not too much he’d like more, especially now that the two of you are courting.

✧ But he’s still too shy to initiate it, instead the two of you sharing glances or the occasional touch that’s a second too short.

✧ Eventually, you accidentally drop something and he catches it - holding it up to you while only being a few steps away.

✧ “(Y/n)?” He prompts, before realising why you haven’t pulled away.

✧ He stays still, for a second, and then he leans in as you do. When the two of you meet he’s gentle, but he matches your pressure - and you can feel his love, his tenderness, his caring.

✧ Eventually pulling away you can see his smile, can feel his lingering touch. 

✧ “I wish I hadn’t waited so long, now.”

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐛𝐨

✧ It’s been around two weeks since the two of you have started courting, and neither of you have brought it up. Although Bilbo would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it.

✧ Honestly, it was something he was slightly worried about. Not being able to make a romantic gesture to you, or to be able to sweep you off your feet. Not with a kiss, at least.

✧ As the two of you are on your date, he can feel some confidence come to him. And as he looks to you, he can feel his breath hitch for a second. How can he ask a creature as perfect as you to bless him?

✧ Noticing his gaze, you turn to him as well. “Yes, Bilbo?”

✧ “I-” Suddenly he’s hyper aware of how hot his cheeks are, of the distance between the two of you. “I would like… to able to kiss you. Or for you to kiss me, if you could. It’s not something you-”

✧ You can sense the beginning of a ramble, and leaning down slightly you do exactly what he asks.

✧ There’s a second as he almost seems shocked before instantly leaning up to you, getting as close as he can, staying this close to you for as long as he can as well.

✧ “I…. well, you are incredible. Thank you.”

A/N : Guess who's back? It's me, how are you all? Sorry I've been gone so long, and have a busy next two weeks so might disappear again, but just wanted to say thanks for the support & love you all. Have a great day/night!

« masterlist » thank you for reading *･༓˚✧ Taglist : @celestialhole / @starwars2222 / @withasideofmeg / @nilintakan / @wordbunch / cont. in comments✧ wish to be tagged?

[chaoticbiguysblog]

Three days into the hiatus and I still can't believe that after 7 long seasons and so many hurdles, Buddie canon is on the horizon and at the end of ep8, it seems like the arc has finally started. Buck's expressions were something I don't think we've seen before, even when Eddie was leaving the 118, and it's safe to say he has realized that he might be in love with Eddie. Sure, in the fandom we over analyze stuff but even from a regular viewer's perspective, it seems Buck is bothered by it and that'll lead to some deep introspection on his part, that may change his life.

I guess we could've used a more explicit hint bc I see a lot of people dooming but atp I feel like the show is clearly setting the stage for Buddie canon. Obviously they're not gonna do everything at once bc this thing has been cooking for years now, I'm sure they're gonna milk it for all its worth and their getting together and first kiss is going to be nothing short of EPIC.

Tim said a lot of different things in his post episode interviews, all of which seem to point towards Buddie canon. One of his most important quotes from the decider interview is that (I'm paraphrasing) Buck will try to distract himself from Eddie, he'll latch onto something, which won't last long and we'll all find out why none of his relationships don't last long. So all of these things, no matter how you look at it, seem to be leading to Buddie.

As for Eddie, I loved that his reaction is the complete opposite of Buck's, whose heart is breaking at the thought of the love of his life moving away and that he'll be left alone, Eddie on the other hand realises that he's never alone bc Buck has always been his partner. We AND Eddie are not ready for when he realises that Buck is the love of his life too.

Although side note, I will say that we should stop expecting a big sexuality discovery arc for Eddie revolving around catholic guilt and what not, the priest's return and his inclusion in Eddie's storyline was for the sole purpose to get Eddie to stop denying himself joy, and so when he finds out Buck is in love with him, it'll be a mostly angst free storyline that can easily be wrapped up in 2-3 episodes. And I'm sure we are about to get Buddie canon around April/May, right in time for Pride month!!

I'm happy with how everything is turning out on the Buddie front, the whole moving away trope is a much better option for Buddie than an NDE, so I can't wait for how it's all gonna happen. Although, addressing the elephant in the room, I'm disappointed by the lack of screentime for Christopher and Eddie, so I need them to get an entire episode all to themselves, away from Buck and the 118, to make up for all the off screen development their fractured relationship went through.

[monstrousproductions]

Looking at the notes it looks like we might have quite similar tastes! I don't really watch TV or films if I can help it so I've got nothing on that front but for books:

The Fifth Season by N.K. Jemisin; set in a world with one continent, where earthquakes are a fact of life. Society is split into different castes and communities, and the "untouchable" class equivalent are people with the ability to magically control earthquakes. Some CWs apply - it's a heavy, brutal series - so hmu if you need any more info before diving in. But it's absolutely wonderful, and the audiobooks are amazing, read by Robin Miles. I also recommend The City We Became (lighter SF about the city of New York developing avatars of each of its boroughs to fight an external threat) and How Long Til Black Future Month (collection of SFF short stories) by her.

Flux by Jinwoo Chong - another great audiobook, read by David Lee Huynh. A young man obsessed with an outdated TV detective takes on a job at a strange organisation where he doesn't really know what he's doing or why. Really beautiful writing and a fascinating exploration of identity and technology.

When the Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb - I obsessed about this so much when I first read it, I don't think I'll ever stop recommending it. Riffing on Jewish folklore, it tells the story of an angel and a demon travelling from the Pale of Settlement to America in c.1911 to follow after the young people of their shtetl. Wicked funny, queer and joyful, and Donald Corren's performance in the audiobook is perfectly dry and sharp.

The Heavens by Sandra Newman - a woman in an ideal future timeline dreams about being another woman in Elizabethan/Jacobean England. She realises that the events in her dreams are affecting her waking reality, changing time and bringing that timeline closer and closer to our own. Made me cry (complimentary)

Station Eleven by Emily St John Mandel - rec depends on how up to it you're feeling re. pandemic fiction. Written before COVID but weirdly prescient, it follows a travelling group of actors in a world decimated by a virulent coronavirus outbreak, hopping back and forth in time to bring different characters from past and present and tie them all together.

The Raven Tower by Ann Leckie - a fantasy retelling of Hamlet, clearly inspired by the use of second-person in the Fifth Season. A world where gods are a fact of life, and where gods speak reality into being. One of Leckie's stronger efforts since Ancillary Justice (first of the Imperial Radch series which I loooove), I remember gasping out loud at a particular reveal at the end. Protag is a trans man which is fun, and the audiobook is read by Adjoa Andoh who can do no wrong.

The Traitor Baru Cormorant (I think just called The Traitor in the UK edition) by Seth Dickinson - about a woman in a "fantasy" world (I don't think there's any actual magic??) whose culture is dominated by an expansionist empire and who vows to take the empire down from within. Totally gripping, can't wait to read the rest in the series.

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell by Susannah Clarke - I saw you'd read Piranesi, and idk if you've read this one yet but I loved it. Set in an alternate Regency England where magic has long been part of British culture, but has all but faded by the time the novel starts. It's a pure brick of a book with nested footnotes and stories within stories, so not for the faint-hearted, but the world is rich and realised and it's brilliantly funny in places. Audiobook is wonderful!

Looking for media recs. Any format. Any genre that isn't romance or erotica.

[ressioo]

can i ask for your thoughts about sunstone as a ship and their dynamic 🥺

Sorry for taking a while, words hard

God. Sunstone. Both in regular canon and SolarFlare they're absolute cringefails to me. The latter just hide it better. Gonna be talking about canon for the most part here

Under the cut because wall of text lmao

Honestly canon sunstone is pretty tragic? Its two flawed people making every single bad decision, and eventually losing eachother as a result. By the time they actually Think and realise what they both did wrong, its much too late to apologise and make things right

I think that if the circumstances were different they'd be able to have a really good, wholesome relationship

Maybe if Pebbles was less desperate to find the triple affirmative. Maybe if the situation before Moons collapse was less tense, if Suns contacted him earlier. If Suns had thought a little harder about the consequences of sending that gold pearl, if they were a little less weak for him, less indulgent. 

I suppose that hindsight is everything. They both regret what happened between them. Especially at the end there. 

Okay now for less depressing shit lmao

Their relationship was purely mentor/mentee for a little while and slowly turned into a very close friendship. They both enjoy art, poetry and music and share many views, which they bonded over. And while Suns might not share the same love for history that he has, they're more than willing to listen. And maybe go out of their way to find out new tidbits for him if they can

They never confess, i don't think. They both develop feelings, but Pebbles is too busy to pay much attention to it and Suns just doesn't quite have the nerve to do anything except hint at it. Though this Does end in them sending him a personalised ring via Spearmaster. Which. Is basically a marriage proposal. At least by Ancient standards.

Pebbles doesn't realise this, mostly because that is a tradition practiced purely by the People. And since he's not exactly aware or paying attention to his own feelings he doesn't clock it for what it is.

He does send them back a ring though. Basically treating it like exchanging friendship bracelets or something 💀 Suns about has a heart attack. From what they know he doesn't share their feelings, and they're too much of a coward to inform him about what the gesture meant, so. They end up unofficially officially married. And then unofficially divorced once the second pearl reaches him in Spearmaster's campaign

Pebbles finally gets his shit together sometime during Arti's campaign. She brings back a pearl about marriage traditions and it suddenly clicks for him. Not really the best time to find out, honestly. What with everything going on. Not even truly Finding Out, since he can't actually ask them if thats what the whole thing meant. 

They never speak again, and neither gets closure about it. They both keep their rings though.

-

Now a little bit about SolarFlare specifically because they actually get together and meet in person in that! Wont be able to say too much without brain getting on my case for revealing too much though lmao. SF sunstone are Extremely exaggerated in their everything, so obviously not saying canon compliant off the string would be quite like this 🙏

They dont become a thing until they've actually met in person, though the line between being close and being Close was blurred for a bit before this point

Pebbles is the one that says something first, and they become official after that

They're like,, really abnormal about eachother. Like its genuinely obsession for them. They be jealous and posessive and codependent as hell. Both of them. Its not healthy, but they are genuinely really happy with eachother. Kinda made for eachother in that way. They're eachother's favourite people and they Will make it other people's problem

End up marrying at some point (after having an actual conversation about it this time), and its both because they wanna show love and devotion but also because they're very about it being a way to claim eachother. And that being visible to others

I love them and their weird relationship

[captn-trex]

angel of small death

Howzer x F!Reader / Twi'lek!Reader 

word count: 6.1k / 24k

part one | part two | part three

description: after the rise of the Empire, Howzer finds his position on Ryloth to be precarious at best, but his attention is drawn from his troubles when he finds himself captivated by a new politician’s arrival

warnings/tags: 18+ !!! strangers to lovers, mutual pining, more angst in this part, kinda miscommunication-ish, political thoughts/discussions, mentions of clone rights/autonomy, smut in part three

a/n: a little treat for the technical devotion readers in this one (I'll post the final chapter soon I promise), by way of my clone OCs Oscar and Teddy (the loml)! yeah its never mentioned in TD now that I think about it but they’re from howzer's squad on ryloth so… enjoy my baby boys :)

masterlist | join my taglist

Howzer’s whole body felt stiff, and he was sick of it.

Cham was on a comm call with a delegate from the senate, and things were not going well, but all Howzer could think about was getting back to the barracks and sinking into his bunk, tuning out the world and letting sleep take him. It was well past the time that he should usually have been let off duty, as had been the theme of the past few days.

He just wanted to sleep. He hadn’t slept properly in those few days, and he could feel how much it grieved his body. His eyes threatened to close, and he had to pinch himself in a spot between the pieces of his armour to refrain.

After what felt like hours, Cham finally finished the call, the blue hologram figure disappearing and engulfing the room in darkness. It seemed that Cham hadn’t realised how late it had got, but Howzer certainly had. He just remained quiet until he was dismissed. He didn’t have the energy to discuss anything right now, and he hadn’t been paying much attention to begin with. When he was let out of the building, the slight chill in the air was a welcome feeling, brushing against his skin and soothing some of the irritation he felt.

He wasn't irritated at Cham. In fact, he didn't know exactly what he was so irritated about at all. He knew that it was heightened by his lack of rest, but it didn't soothe it much to know that fact. He stretched his neck out as he walked, tipping it from one side and then the other, cringing when he heard a few pops. He'd never been so sore in his life.

His feet took him towards the barracks without much thought, the rest of his body complying for the knowledge of the semi-comfortable bunk that awaited his return.

Howzer loved Ryloth. He loved its climate, it's landscape, its people. Most of all, he loved this time of day; the sun about to lower beneath the horizon, the gentle breeze ruffling his hair, the way the trees swayed gently and made a noise akin to sighing. He loved the way the planet looked as it wound down for sleep.

He wished that he had more time in his life to appreciate it. He had hoped that it would come after the war, that there could be time spared among the peace, but now he found himself being stretched thin in new and foreign ways. He knew he wouldn't get the chance, maybe ever, and the realisation made his jaw grind.

He thought more about what you had said the other day by the lake, about a bill to give clones rights, potentially getting paid for their work, or having the ability to leave the Imperial army. For the first time, Howzer wondered what it would be like to not be a soldier. If he was in control of his own fate, what would he do?

He would stay on Ryloth, he didn't even have to consider anything else. Maybe he'd make up for lost time, travel the planet and explore, find every untouched corner and bask in the evening light without the weight of a galaxy at war on his shoulders. Maybe he'd have a stall at the market, maybe he'd have a family, and his kids would play in the street, kicking up water in the fountain while he watched with that certain kind of smile that he only saw on the faces of parents.

It was wishful thinking, and that's all it was.

Deep inside, he knew he'd never see the day where he was liberated. He clenched his hands into fists as the anger that had been being nurtured in him all day finally rose up to the surface.

It wasn't fair. He'd given so much to the Republic. He'd given his life, he'd lost men, he'd fought with his bare hands for the people that they were supposed to protect, and all the while, the Senators in their ivory towers were the ones who decided his future, his fate. It wasn't fair and he was tired. He was so tired.

Thinking about it only made his head ache. He supposed that was why nothing would ever change. If the clones were kept in a state where they couldn't afford to think about their place in the galaxy, then they could be forced to serve with very little pushback.

Howzer made it to the barracks, his journey having only having made him even more irritated than he had been when he left the senate bureau. He let out a sigh of frustration, trying to relax before he'd have to deal with the chaos of his brothers. He didn't want to snap at them for something that wasn't their fault.

As he strode towards the door, his attention was caught by the noise of a page turning, and he looked over to see you sat beneath your usual tree, a stylus in hand and working it against the page of your flimsibook. He stopped walking and watched you for a moment.

He hadn't seen you since taking you to the lake that day, and even though he was tired, he was now itching to talk to you again. He couldn't help but think that your company might calm his angered thoughts.

You hadn't noticed him yet, and he debated not bothering you, but he quickly lost that argument with himself when he saw you smile at something you'd written. It was so effortlessly charming that his feet started moving on their own, carrying him over to you. When your head lifted and saw him approaching, however, your smile instantly dropped and you slammed your book shut. Howzer halted, unable to stop the pang of hurt that arose in his chest.

“Sorry” he blurted out, “I didn't mean to disturb you”

He turned on his heel and began to walk away before you called his name.

“I'm sorry, I just wasn't expecting you” you said, beckoning him back, “did you need me for something?”

Howzer frowned. He wondered what could have made you think his relationship to you should be so transactional, that he would have to have a reason to talk to you besides wanting to.

“No” he shook his head, “I always see you out here though. What is it you're writing?”

“Uh…” you trailed off before you even began, looking down to your book and then back up to him, “it's… well, I— it's just…”

Howzer lifted a brow at the blush that spread over your lilac skin, “you don't have to tell me”

You looked relieved as soon as he said that, “sorry, it's just… private, I suppose”

“I get it” Howzer nodded, “Well I should—”

“Would you like to sit down?” you asked him, patting the spot beside you with a hopeful smile.

Howzer's heart did a small jump, and he walked back over to where you sat. You collected your robes up on one side, draping them over your knees, allowing him to sit close to you. He tried to hide his smile as he sat down, close enough that his shoulder brushed against yours.

He rested his head on the trunk of the tree as he sat back, his breath leaving him slowly as he felt the last rays of the sun hitting his skin and warming him.

“Everything alright?” you asked.

He hummed an affirmative, “just tired”

“I'm not surprised” you commented, “if you've only just got back”

“Yeah” Howzer breathed out, opening one eye to look at you, “how do you know when I usually get back? You been watching me?”

You laughed at the inquisitive edge to his voice, looking down to your lap as you shrugged, “I see you around, the pauldron makes you stand out”

Howzer smiled and closed his eye again. He could already feel his irritation being quelled. The sound of your laugh, the wry curl of your lips, and the twinkle in your eye taking his mind from his previous worries. Your presence distracted him so easily, so much that he hadn't even realised that he was falling asleep until you were waking him up again.

The sound of your voice calling for him brought him out a dream that he soon after forgot. You were stood above him, your expression a little worried, and he blinked a few times as he came back into consciousness fully.

“You should get to to bed”

“Right, yeah” he muttered, taking his head from the tree trunk.

You held your hands out, palms facing towards the sky that now twinkled with the suns of systems far away. He took them gently, letting you help pull him up from the floor, and once stood he looked down at your gentle smile with a fondness. You were close, almost chest to chest with him, and both of you were yet to let go of each other. Howzer skimmed his thumbs over your knuckles, and then stepped back, dropping your hands.

“Let me walk you back” he said quietly, then lifted his hand to cover his mouth as he yawned.

“I think I'll be walking you back today” you replied amusedly.

Howzer huffed a laugh, his eyes darting to the door of the barracks, “I'm only going over there”

“Well maybe I don't trust you not to fall asleep again before you get there”

When his eyes found yours again, he saw more seriousness written into your expression that he had anticipated. It twisted his stomach.

“I'm fine” he murmured, dragging his eyes away as he felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment.

“Mhm, sure”

He didn't want anyone worrying about him, and especially not you. You had bigger things to worry about, and the thought of you pitying him made him feel sick.

“Really, I'm alright” he insisted, trying to sound sincere.

You sighed, gazing up at him with a little tilt of your head.

“You needn't pretend, Howzer” you said softly, “we're friends, aren't we? I'd like you to be honest with me”

The admission of friendship made him wake up a bit more, his eyes brightening, back straightening him to his full height.

“I will be fine” he spoke honestly, a tired smile accompanying his words.

You offered him a smile in return with a slight shake of your head, “you promise?”

Howzer couldn't help the way his lips curled into a smirk. He held his hand up, all fingers curled into a fist but his fifth one, “pinky promise”

A grin spread across your face, lighting your eyes up as a delighted laugh bubbled up from your chest. You hooked your pinky with his, and Howzer had to bite back his own grin so he didn't look utterly ridiculous.

“Go on” you nodded your head over to the door, “go and rest”

“Yes ma'am” he muttered in a mockingly irritated tone.

Truthfully, your actions were tugging at something deep within him, each word pulling his chest taut. You actually cared about whether or not he was okay, and while it wasn't a grand display of affection, it was more than Howzer had received from another person.

You chuckled slightly, “Goodnight. Captain”

Howzer was wholly unprepared for your next act, and he almost let his knees fold and send him tumbling to the floor when you raised to your toes and planted a soft kiss to his cheek. The shock was evident on his face, and he knew his short breath betrayed him when you rocked back onto your heels and smirked at how flustered he was.

He had never been this affected by the actions of another another person like this. Frankly, he wanted to wipe that smirk right off of your face. In fact, all he could think at that moment was how he wanted to have you unable to even form words, at his mercy so the only sound able to pass your lips was his name. Howzer immediately scolded himself for the flurry of thoughts, all birthed from a simple kiss on the cheek. Maker, he needed to reel it back.

“Goodnight” he breathed out.

You tipped your head to him slightly, and then you were gone.

He watched your figure recede, and let his eyes roam down the back of your robe, a deep green dress that held tight to your torso and hung down past the belt at your hips. You turned to look over your shoulder, and gave him another smirk when you caught him staring.

It was then that he heard whispering coming from behind him, and his head whipped around to spot the culprits. As misfortune would have it, the two most meddlesome troopers under his command were stood in the doorway to the barracks, hissing and elbowing the other to be quiet. Howzer sighed. This wasn't going to be an easy conversation to navigate.

He strode over to the pair of them, and they straightened on instinct, though both of them had an expression that betrayed their intrigue.

“Go on, say what you're going to say” Howzer crossed his arms over his chest, struggling not to laugh himself as the two younger clones glanced to each other.

“Are you two screwi—? OW!” Oscar's prying was cut of by a swift kick to the shin by his brother.

“Sorry sir, we were only interested in knowing your relationship to the lady” Teddy explained less crudely, and a small chuckle left Howzer's lips.

They were quite the pair, and against his better judgement, they were among his favourite brothers. Oscar had a permanent case of head stuck in the gutter, but Teddy was always there to put him in his place, the more sensible of the two. Really, they were two sides of the same coin, both of them every bit as nosey as the other.

“She's a friend, not that it's any of your business” Howzer asserted, pushing past them to enter into the barracks.

“Told you” Oscar barked a laugh, causing Howzer to raise an eyebrow at him.

He turned to Teddy, “what exactly did he tell you?”

“He said that a clone like you wouldn't be able to handle a woman that ‘fine’” Teddy spoke candidly, a grin on his face at getting to rat out his brother.

“Oh, and you could?” Howzer asked the first clone, who admittedly looked a little apologetic until he got the chance to show off his practiced act of bravado.

“Absolutely” Oscar smirked broadly, his hands resting on the back of his head as he leaned back into the wall, “when she's tired of you, send her over to me and I'll show her a good time”

“Please” Teddy rolled his eyes, “you wouldn't know a good time if it socked you in the face”

“Shows what you know” Oscar prodded his brother in the stomach, “being socked in the face isn't a good time”

Howzer knew Oscar was all talk. He had seen his many attempts of hitting on women in their infrequent trips to the bar, and it was some pretty poor work, all clichés and boasting. It was lucky he was good with a Z-6 rotary, because off the battlefield he was sorely lacking. Teddy was a little more of a sensitive soul in comparison to his batchmate, weary of treading on other people's toes — Oscar being the exception.

“That's not—” Teddy sighed, “maker, you're stupid”

“Only as stupid as you, brother”

Oscar let them continue their good natured bickering, laying down on his bunk and letting out a deep sigh. It wasn't the most comfortable thing in the galaxy, but Howzer was thankful for it in that moment.

His thoughts quickly dwelled on you. It was almost alarming, how quick his mind travelled there when given the freedom to think about anything. As he unclipped the pieces of his armour and slid beneath the sheet of his bunk, the only thing on his mind was your smirk. That maddening expression had its claws in him, tempting him in a way that he desperately tried not to acknowledge. You had just called him your friend, and you were far above him in the grand scheme of things, he couldn't afford to think like that.

Despite that, the expression burned into his brain, taunting him, begging him to give in, and his brain conjured up lewd images without his permission. He pushed them away, but they still lingered despite his attempts.

Howzer gulped. He was in big trouble.

The next few evenings were among the most relaxing times that Howzer had experienced since the end of the war, however ironic that seemed to him.

He sat with you under the tree, and at first neither of you would speak all that much. You sat opposite him, facing him so that he couldn’t see what you were writing in your flimsibook, only looking up to him periodically. Howzer took that same time to rest, and then as the evening turned to night, the comfortable silence turned to pleasant conversation.

You asked about his opinion on a number of matters, and he was embarrassed to admit to you that many of them were things he had never considered before. You didn't treat him as deficient for it, though, instead you helped him form his opinions in asking more questions.

You were very intelligent, that much was obvious to Howzer now. You seemed to have a vast base of knowledge, and you had a certain way with words that told him you were educated, but it was a lot more than that. You were empathetic, which he felt was a better scale for measuring intelligence, especially after the senate discussions he had listened to over the last few weeks.

None of those senatorial representatives had a single kind bone in their body, and their views seemed plainly misguided and frankly stupid for it. You were the antithesis, and that was probably why he was so drawn to you from the beginning.

It was getting harder to pretend that you had no effect on him, and it seemed like you knew that, that you were trying to make it harder. In every conversation, you seemed more flirty than in the one before, and Howzer was beginning to think he wasn’t imagining it. He couldn't return the advances. He was deathly afraid of reading the situation wrong, and he wouldn't lose the comfort of your friendship just because he got a bit ahead of himself.

When he arrived at the tree one day after being let off duty, and you weren't there, he was more than a little confused. You had been there everyday since arriving on the planet, and for a moment he was stricken with a nasty feeling that something was wrong. He waited beneath the tree for a little while, but it was quickly becoming apparent that you just weren't going to be joining him today.

He thought about where you could possibly be, and it crossed his mind that you may just be at your residence. In spite of the thought, he found his feet carrying him out of the city.

The sun was blinding, just beginning to make it's descent below the horizon and lighting the pathway between the trees of the forest as if directing him to the correct place. This walk had always calmed him, so even if you weren't waiting at the end of it, it wouldn't be in vain.

As he approached the lake, he saw the way your robe was laid out on the floor, as if it had been discarded, and at first his heart jumped to his throat. A few more of your belongings were there, your flimsibook and stylus, jewellery and boots. Luckily, before he could get too worried about what might have happened to you, he heard his name called.

His gaze whipped over to the voice, and his eyes laid upon you, treading water in the shaded part of the lake. He could feel the way his heart jumped, beating faster in his chest at the sight.

“What are you doing?” he asked, stepping towards the edge of the lake.

“Taking a dip” you said simply, “you want to join?”

Howzer paused, giving you a somewhat exasperated look, “I really shouldn't”

“Why not?”

Howzer knew why he shouldn't. It was grossly inappropriate, even being friends with a senate official and spending time with them off duty was most likely frowned upon. This felt different though.

“Well, I, uh— I don't have the right… attire” he tried to reason.

“Neither do I” you shrugged.

Howzer’s mind was reeling. He was trying desperately to keep his thoughts in check, but that taunting smirk was decorating your face, and it was probably his greatest weakness.

“Come on Captain, live dangerously” you called over to him, your voice particularly coquettish.

He watched you carefully, trying to find any indication of your intentions in the way you looked at him. It was strange, you were still so hard to read, but he felt like he could see right through you at the same time. You were toying with him in some way, but he couldn't tell why.

His fingers took the lead, and started unclipping his armour with your eyes following his movements, watching as every piece slid from his body. By the time he was peeling back his blacks, revealing tanned skin that very few people had seen before, he couldn't help but think that the way you were drinking him in was far from innocent. It sent a thrill through him, but he was still weary of his thoughts betraying him.

When he'd stripped down to just his underwear, he waded into the water tentatively. It wasn't freezing, but it certainly wasn't warm, and he couldn't stop the way he shivered. As the bottom of the lake fell away, he swam over, joining you in the shade.

Seeing you up close was electrifying. Maybe it was that he hadn't ever seen you without all of the usual opulence of your senatorial garb, or maybe it was the fact that you were only wearing your underwear, but he relished in seeing this different side to you. You were beautiful, and usually it was acknowledged alongside your prestige, but now it was in spite of the absence.

With any identifying items stripped from you, you were just a person, as he was. Suddenly you didn't seem as terrifying, your gentle smile inviting and natural, and Howzer could feel himself becoming even more entranced by you.

“What brought you here today?” you asked.

“I, uh—” Howzer was having trouble focusing, but he realised that he came looking for you, and something about your expression told him you might know that, “you weren't under the tree, I just wondered where you were”

“Why's that?” you tilted your head to the side a little, feigning innocence.

Howzer bit the inside of his cheek as he watched you for a moment. He wouldn't ordinarily speak the truth, but everything about the situation was clouding his mind.

“I like spending time with you” he said honestly, and your eyebrows raised, “is that a surprise?”

“Not exactly” you spoke thoughtfully, “I just didn't expect you to say so”

“Why’s that” he mocked the tone of your voice, which drew a laugh from you that made his smile grow.

“Well, you're usually very restrained”

Howzer raised a brow, shifting marginally closer to you, “restrained?”

You bit the corner of your lip a little, “guarded, then”

“Hm” Howzer hummed, narrowing his eyes, “well… I am a soldier”

You smirked, “that you are”

Howzer cocked his head to the side, as if to ask what was going on in your mind. He felt that he knew you better now, but you were still such an enigma to him. For all that you were calling him guarded, he could only think of a handful of times where you had completely relaxed around him, and spoke in a way that was discernibly candid.

Before he could ask what you meant, you swam closer to him, a lot closer to him.

“How did you get these?” your tone was softer as you reached out and touched the scar on his chin, and then the one on his cheek, rubbing your thumb across it gently.

Howzer could feel the heat of your body through the water with you being so close to him, and the feel of you caressing his face was just too much to deal with. He couldn't speak, and when you looked into his eyes he had to gulp down the saliva that was pooling in his mouth.

“Explosion” he managed to get out, “shrapnel. There— there was a kid, I—’

He found his words stuck in his throat, your gaze and your touch holding them captive as he became absolutely mesmerised.

“You… what?” you prompted, snapping him from his trance.

“I was protecting the kid… from the blast”

The edges of your lips lifted, your eyes crinkling a little, “that's very honourable, soldier”

The word sounded undeniably affectionate, like a nickname of sorts. You took your hand away from his cheek and swam backwards slightly, and Howzer let out a breath that he hadn't realised he was holding in.

“It's just what any clone would have done” he reasoned, his tone a little flippant as he denied your claim.

“Hm” your gaze was scrutinising as you thinned your eyes at him, “I think you're just being modest”

Howzer chuckled, a slightly nervous sound that didn't suit him, “I don't feel very modest right now”

He had said it quietly, more to himself than anything, but you laughed anyway.

“I can look away, if you want?” you teased, and his cheeks heated as he rolled his eyes, forcing his gaze away. “I'll spare you” you grinned, swimming away towards your discarded clothes.

Howzer tried desperately to pull his eyes away from you as you emerged from the lake, but with the way the water was sliding from your skin, crystal droplets that twinkled in the sun as they followed the contours of your body, he simply couldn't.

Suddenly he was struck by how inappropriate this was. He shouldn't be seeing you like this. If anyone found the two of you like this, unclothed and having been so close to each other — whatever the context — he couldn't be sure what would happen to him.

It was forbidden for clones to form relationships, to give themselves to someone other than the Empire, and the Republic before that. You knew this, Howzer knew you did, you must have. You had campaigned for clone rights within the senate, there was no way you didn't know that it was prohibited to get close to him in that way.

Suddenly nothing made sense anymore.

Either you had never been flirting with him in the first place, which was admittedly fine if not a blow to his pride, or you were a whole lot crueller than he had realised. He didn't truly believe that you were capable of a cruelty such as that. He knew you to be kind, he knew you to be caring, far more caring than any Senator he'd ever met. Though, at the end of the day, you were still a politician. Perhaps it didn't matter that you seemed to be concerned with things such as clone rights or the other changes you sought to make to the Senate, perhaps you were still as removed from the general public that you sought your own desires above everything else.

The idea of that being him, however it had excited him previously, now filled him with disgust.

He dragged himself from the lake, quickly dressing in silence, even as the water made his blacks stick to him uncomfortably. He didn't look over at you, some form of animosity washing over him that he tried to brush away. It felt uncomfortable, he didn't want to feel this way about you. It didn't feel right, it was incongruent with how he truly felt, but that was what made everything so confusing.

“Is everything alright?”

He glanced over to you, your expression conveying concern as you did up the final buttons of your robe. Howzer forced his eyes away as he slipped his pauldron into place, “fine”

The word sounded bitter, and he cringed at the harshness of his tone.

“Are you sure?” you asked, your hand laying on his forearm and stopping his movements.

He looked back up, and the compassion in your eyes only sought to make his head spin with conflicting thoughts.

“You shouldn't have done that” the words fell from his mouth without permission, and the way you receded from him, your expression wounded, he raced to add, “I shouldn't have”

Your brows drew together slightly, “done what?”

An enervated noise escaped him, not really willing to admit his feelings for you, especially if he had entirely misread the situation.

“We can't be… close. It's against the rules, against my… code” he mumbled out, his words not sounding as definitive and confident as he wished.

“Oh” your face fell even further, “right, of course. I apologise”

Howzer’s heart lurched at your hurt expression, knowing that he was the one who had caused it. He watched you gather your things, slipping your jewellery back on and with it your authoritative demeanour and stony politician’s mask, and his heart clenched tighter in his chest. You grabbed your flimsibook and stylus, and before he could speak up again to explain himself, you had given him a curt nod and were walking away.

His hand stretched out as if to grab you and stop your leaving, but you were much too far away for that now. He felt a fool, reaching for something that could never be, and a painful sight of his own making.

The next day was difficult, for everyone.

The dispute between Cham, man of the people, and Senator Taa, decidedly the opposite, had reached its climax. It was at the stage of all out disagreement and discussion had given way to argument. There were raised voices, pointing fingers, flaring nostrils, and it was bordering on name calling. Howzer didn't know how to cope with it.

He was inclined to step in and hold both parties back, even if they were at opposite ends of the large wooden table, but he knew that was well beyond his jurisdiction. Everyone else had joined in, not as outwardly outraged as Cham or as vehement as Ora Free Taa, but more animated nonetheless.

Everyone, except you.

Howzer watched the way your teeth ground together, eyes cold and darting around at the other delegates, and he could tell you were far angrier than he'd ever seen you. He wanted to reach out and offer some kind of support, a natural instinct, but he couldn't do anything of the sort, and besides, you would scarcely look at him.

It hurt, as much as it was necessary.

He knew that he had done the right thing, ending whatever there was between you before it began, and for that, he was proud of his restraint, but with the way you turned your gaze from him at every juncture, it certainly didn't feel like it.

So he watched on, his stomach twisted in guilt and his heart reaching out for you despite it all.

Your lip twitched as one of the other senate officials said something so morally reprehensible about the people of Ryloth and how they were viewed by the new Imperial senate, that Howzer actually let out a tiny gasp. Another official backed them up, and soon almost everyone was giving their two credits, the tone of conversation turning more and more sinister as it was being allowed to breed in the hateful speech that was being spewed.

“Stop!” you suddenly shouted above the racket, leaping up from your seat, a fist clenched and slamming into the table.

The room fell silent, and you breathed heavily for a moment before you spoke up again, your tone vicious and scathing.

“I cannot sit by and listen to this hateful drivel any longer. Ryloth deserves better than this, our people deserve more than all of you as their leaders. Do none of you have hearts? Can you not see that acting this way, choosing to go through with these plans, will only drive our planet further towards poverty, towards insecurity and scarcity, is that really what you want for our people?”

Howzer could feel his heart beating out of his chest. Your sudden display of passion and empathy for your people made his knees feel weak, threatening to bring him to the ground. You commanded the room, all eyes turned to you and hanging on every word. He knew that you cared more than the average Senator, but seeing you showcase it made his admiration grow once more.

“Aren't you just an aide? Why should we listen to you?” one of the other Twi'lek's asked, and you released a humourless laugh that sent a shiver running down Howzer's spine.

“I am a senate representative, sir. Do you know what that means?” you asked facetiously, and Howzer's eyebrow raised, an impressed smirk playing on his lips, “I am above you, and you will listen to me when I tell you that your way of thinking will be the downfall of our people. It's people like you that make me—”

“Stand down representative” the firm voice of Orn Free Taa called, and your head twinged to the side to send him a sharp look.

“Senator, surely we can't allow—”

“We will allow nothing, only I can and will decide what action to take. You have no power here, you're nothing, not while I am around” he spoke fiercely, and you backed down immediately, like a wounded animal at the mercy of its predator.

It was hard to watch, the way you sunk into your chair after being scolded, belittled in front of everyone. Your posture was slumped, your face turned downwards and an embarrassed blush scorching your cheeks. Your eyes snapped up for a moment, just enough to catch Howzer's sympathetic gaze and then to tear them away again.

The session was concluded shortly after, the setting sun quelling any arguments as everyone wished to leave the tense environment and get back to their homes for some peace. As soon as you were dismissed, you sped right past Howzer, storming from the room with a deep frown that made his worry for you grow.

He ran after you once everyone else had filed from the room, speeding through the bureau halls and bursting out into the courtyard. You were halfway across it by the time he caught up to you, calling your name even though it didn't make you slow your hurried pace.

Howzer gently grabbed your wrist, tugging on it inadvertently when you didn't immediately stop. You swivelled around, a thoroughly displeased expression contorting your features. His words failed him, not knowing how to comfort you in that moment.

“I'm so sorry” he said earnestly, “he shouldn't get to treat you like that. You're not nothing, don't let his words hurt you”

“I don't care about that” you scoffed, “it's his actions that hurt me, and the way that none of them actually seem to care about what happens to this planet”

“I know, I know” Howzer nodded, his tone soothing as his thumb brushed over your pulse point, “I'm sorry they won't listen to you”

Your eyes dropped to where his hand still enveloped your wrist, bringing your other hand to cover it for a moment, before you removed yourself from his grip.

“Thank you, then” you gave him a tight smile, and as much as it was strained, he could tell it was genuine.

“Can I walk you back?” he asked quietly, locking eyes with you and finding a reluctant tenderness.

“No” you replied curtly, swallowing anymore words that could have found their way past your lips, “goodnight Captain”

For the second day in a row, Howzer watched you walking away from him, your feet carrying you with the same grace despite your more hurried steps. He felt awful that he had thought so lowly of you the previous day, that he had even entertained the idea that you were as selfish and self-important as the other politicians.

He decided then, stood in the middle of the square, that he hated the sight of you leaving him, and that thought would continue to fester uncomfortably within him for the foreseeable future.

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