#and I would NEVER be able to find anything EVER AGAIN

[tpwk-formula1]

Hello, can I please request Charles jealous smut?

AN: Definitely went a bit of a different route than normal but I enjoyed writing this! Started it right before I went to the hospital and was able to finish it tonight! I hope you guys enjoy. I know its a bit shorter but I'm running on melatonin and oxi so bare with me haha

TW: multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, low-key asshole Charles (very beginning)

WC: 1.2K

Y/N POV

"Charles, what's wrong?" I ask for the third time since getting back into the car after leaving the end of year Ferrari dinner.

"God damn it, Y/N! Nothing I said nothing was fucking wrong," Charles snaps at me making me gasp slightly at the out burst.

"Charles Leclerc, do not ever speak to me like that again," I shout at him when we finally get back to the apartment.

I had chosen to keep quiet the rest of the way home, hoping it would help cool the both of us down but when we walked through the door and Charles instantly beelined for our bedroom mumbling to himself I finally snap.

"Then don't ever talk to Carlos Sainz again," Charles snap back while turning around to show he had fire in his eyes.

It finally had clicked for me. Charles was jealous which isn't something that happens often but when it does he tends to turn into the green monster.

"Charles, are you fucking kidding me! Carlos is leaving Ferrari, and I was telling him about how I've enjoyed his time with Ferrari," I shout back at him making Charles roll his eyes before stomping his way into the bedroom and slamming the door. The whole dramatics

A part of me just laughs softly at his childish antics but the other part of me is still raging with anger at the way he had spoken to me.

I make my way into the kitchen grabbing myself something to drink before grabbing the bottle of tequila and taking a shot of the bitter liquor.

When I feel myself cool down just enough I march into out bedroom to find Charles already under the covers ready for bed but instead of him laying in the middle of the bed like normal he's on the very edge as far away from my side as possible.

"I hope Leo pushes you off the bed," I scoff when Charles doesn't even acknowledge me.

"Maybe if you slept in Carlos's bed like you want I would have more room to cuddle with Leo," Charles replies back in a sheepish mumble showing me that he's getting close to crumbling and apologizing.

"It's actually why I came in here. Need to pack an overnight bag," I comment with a smirk on my face but before I can even make it into the closet Charles is up from his spot on the bed and storming towards me before pushing me against the wall.

"You think this is funny?" Charles seethes making me shrug my shoulders.

"I mean ya kind of Charles, we both know damn well I have never and will never be into Carlos, so ya you being jealous and threatened by him is hilarious," I reply back making Charles's eyes narrow slightly at me before I see his should relax slightly.

"I- 'm sorry," Charles mumbles clearly letting the embarrassment sink in.

"I don't know why it upset me so much tonight. I know it's not an excuse but I am sorry for getting jealous and even more sorry for how I spoke to you," Charles admits softly while pulling my face into his hand.

"I don't even care when you get jealous, if anything I find it hot as fuck, but I do care about the way you speak to me," I tell him softly feeling my anger slowly start to ease.

"I know and it was wrong, I really am sorry," Charles says again making me smile softly and nod my head.

"You're forgiven, but I demand 3 orgasms," I say with a smile and a nod.

"Deal," Charles says with a laugh before pulling me in and placing a soft kiss on my lips and pulling me by my waist towards our bed.

When Charles drops me down on the bed he quickly climbs up to join me pulling off his shirt at the same time.

When Charles joins me on the bed he wraps my legs around his hips before he leans down and pulls me in for a kiss while grinding his hard cock down into my dripping core.

"Charles please, I need you," I whine when I can feel my pleasure soaking through my flimsy panties.

Charles finally pulls back and quickly pulls my panties off before wasting no time attaching his mouth to my sensitive clit. He knew it wouldn't take long to throw me over the edge but when I feel him slipping his fingers into my soaked pussy I can't help the loud cry that falls from my lips.

"Fuck! Charlie," I cry when I feel his fingers grazing my G-spot while his lips are still sucking on my clit.

"Cum for me," Charles mumbles into my pussy making me cry out and cum all over his finger.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I moan in a chant as Charles continues to fuck me through my first orgasm.

"Too much," I cry when I realize Charles isn't letting me come down from my high but rather throwing me right into another orgasm.

"You want three no?" Charles asks with a smirk on his face before speeding his fingers up even more and attaching his mouth back to my overly sensitive clit.

"Charles," I cry out when I feel his start speeding all his actions up clearly with the intentions to bring me to another orgasm.

"Charlie," I cry out when I feel myself fall over the edge again not expecting the orgasm to hit me so fast.

"Fuck, good girl," Charles groans while fingering me harder and letting me squirt all over the bed and his face.

As soon as I started to come down from my high Charles is quickly pulling his boxer off before climbing back into bed and quickly rubbing the tip of his hard leaking cock through my soaked folds before finding my dripping hole and quickly pushing his whole cock deep into my pussy making me whimper the the stretch of his cock.

"Fuck!" Charles and I both groan put at the exact same time while he starts slowly thrusting his hips in and out of my soaked pussy.

It doesn't take long for me to fully adjust to Charles's size and once I do he quickly speeds up his trusts while making sure to hit all the good spots deep within my pussy.

"Fuck Charlie," I cry out when I feel myself crawling closer and closer to another orgasm.

"Fuck, feel so good," Charles cries out as his hips start to shutter a bit letting me know he was getting close to cumming as well.

"Fuck, I'm cumming," I cry out when I feel Charles bring his fingers down to my clit and teasing me until I fall over the edge pulling him with me.

"Fuck," Charles grunts out when I feel his hip shutter one final time before filling my pussy up with his hot cum.

As we are both trying to catch our breath I wrap my arms around his neck pulling him down to rest his body on top of mine.

"Fuck, that was good," I breath out making Charles laugh softly.

"I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you in the car and when we got home," Charles says while slowly slipping his softening cock out of me and laying on his back and pulling me into his chest.

"You're forgiven, I guess," I tease making Charles roll his eyes softly but still pull me in tighter to his chest.

"I love you and thinking about losing you makes me a bit insane," Charles admits making me smile softly. I definitely couldn't imagine my life without him either.

"I love you too," I reply back softly while curling into his side a bit closer.

[crowofmidnightsworld]

Cooling down | Zayne

Zayne x female reader Type: Smut, almost no plot Synopsis: It was summer. Linkon was hit by a heatwave and you decided to drop by Zayne's office to bring him some ice cream to cool down, but Zayne was the one who ended up helping you cool down. Warnings: MDNI, temperature play, restricion of movement, fingering, oral f!receiving Word count: 1.9

It was the third day in a row that Linkon city had an average temperature of 38°c and you felt like dying. But you knew that Zayne had it worse. You had a couple of days off from work and you could stay home with your AC, that had become your best friend, while Zayne had to work. With that in mind, you decided to do something good. You should definitely drop by his office and bring your favourite sweet tooth some ice cream. Little did you know how that visit would end.

With a tub of the sweetest chocolate ice cream you could find, you went to Asko Hospital. Yvonne and Greyson both jokingly had begged you to give them some too, well Yvonne was joking, but you knew Greyson had been serious about it. You somehow got away from him by telling him that you'd ask Zayne to share but that promise got lost, because of the situation you had found yourself in.

You were sitting on Zayne's desk, him in between your legs and somehow he had tied your wrists together behind your back with his tie. However that could've happened, you didn't even remember but you weren't going to complain. Zayne had been working all day and he had been so happy to see you, especially with that tub of ice cream but was craving something else. Or rather someone else.

"Walking here must've been torture in that heat", he murmured into your ear and he was right, but in that moment the heat you were feeling wasn't because of the temperature outside. Zayne gently moved his fingers along your neck and you let out a hiss at the sudden freezing cold sensation against your skin. Of course he'd use his evol. You had never even considered it, but the sound you made only caused Zayne to chuckle against your ear. Shivers ran down your spine and it wasn't just because of the cold sensation. "Can you do it again?". Your voice was shaky and soft, but Zayne quickly answered by running his fingertips against your neck again. This time taking his time and slowly moving his fingers down to your collarbone. "Anything to help my favourite Patient cool down".

Goosebumps covered your skin from head to toe and you hated that you couldn't move your arms. That you couldn't touch him. But Zayne enjoyed every single second of this. As his fingers continued trailing over your skin, he captured your mouth in a kiss, more desperate than it usually was. Not wanting to waste time, you moved your tongue across his bottom lip, pushing against it, and the sound Zayne made as he opened his mouth was heaven to you. His tongue immediately started pressing against yours, wanting to taste all of you and you let him. It wasn't the first time you and Zayne had done something in his office, but it was still thrilling every time you did.

As Zayne desperately continued kissing you, his hands moved underneath your top and when his cold fingers made contact with your warm skin there, you couldn't keep the gasp in. Your body immediately tried to move away from this sudden cold feeling, but Zayne immediately put his hands on your waist, holding you still. "There are so many more places I need to cool down, Love", he murmured against your lips this time, his voice even deeper than before and you knew that you were done for.

Your breathing quickened the moment Zayne's hands started to travel up and down your sides and he put his mouth on your neck. Kissing and nibbling on the spots that he just cooled down a bit. It felt like torture but you loved every single second of this. He was so skillful with his hands and it was evident to you every time he touched you. Ever so slowly, Zayne reached for your top and pulled it up, obviously not able to take it off completely since your hands were tied behind your back, but he made it work. Your chest was completely exposed and only your bra was keeping Zayne from seeing everything, but his breathing did stock when he saw your black, lacy bra.

"I wanted to surprise you tonight", your voice was nothing but a whisper, seeing how Zayne was looking at you. Reacting to you. Something in his eyes changed, which immediately made something in your warmest spot throb. "So pretty and all mine". There was a growl in his voice as he said this under his breath and just that could've made you finish on the spot. You could only watch as his hands moved to your chest and he pulled down your bra a bit, making your tits spill out.

Zayne didn't waste any time, immediately starting to tease you. His large hands cupping your tits, gently kneading the soft skin with his ice cold hands. It felt like heaven and hell at the same time, and you wanted more. "Let's see what happens when I do this". Even at this point, you weren't fast enough to think about what he meant, before his fingers moved over your nipples, hardening them within seconds. Another hiss escapes your lips, as Zayne started pinching them a little bit. "Fuck... This is...", you started but you couldn't even describe what you were feeling at this moment. You could feel the way Zayne started to smile against your neck, as he started kissing it again, and his fingers continued roaming over your bare skin.

You wanted more. You wanted to pull him closer, touch him, hold him. But you couldn't and it was driving you insane. While Zayne continued playing with your nipples, you could feel yourself getting hotter with every passing second, despite Zayne using his evol to cool you down. Wanting to satisfy the throbbing between your legs, you hooked one leg around Zayne's waist, trying to pull him closer this way. Trying to feel him against you. That attempt didn't quite work out for you, because Zayne immediately took a step back and all you were able to do was whine. "Someone's so needy today", he was mocking you. Teasing you. And while it didn't satisfy you, it did make you want him more.

God, Zayne loved seeing you like this. It was one of the few moments in which he had you wrapped around his fingers and he couldn't wait to see how you'd react to what he's going to do to you next. "I think we should take off those pants". And just like he said he would, he quickly moved to free you from your pants. Even in your compromising position, not able to help him, you suddenly felt yourself sitting on the desk completely bare. No pants and definitely no panties. At this point your heart was already about to burst out of your chest and Zayne noticed it all. The way your breathing picked up, how much you wanted him and especially the glistening wetness of your pussy.

When you first slept with Zayne, you had still been self conscious. You felt so exposed, when you were naked in front of him for the first time but now? You had grown accustomed to the way he'd look at you. The hunger in his eyes not a stranger to you anymore and now you couldn't wait anymore. Just like Zayne couldn't wait, as he knelt down in front of you, keenly inspecting your pussy. So wet and just for him.

The first contact of his cold fingers with your hot skin made you flinch, but Zayne quickly moved his free hand around you and held onto the small of your back. Holding you in place. Zayne couldn't stop thinking about how much he loved seeing you like this. How you'd react to every single one of his touches and how he could make you fall apart with them. At first he's gentle. His fingers slowly glided through your wet folds, before they landed on your clit and that's when he started to put some pressure into his touch. That alone almost made you lose your mind but then he started to blow against the very same spot he had just used his evol on, and all you could do was buck your hips toward him. The mixture of the coldness and his breath, making you feel like it's even colder and once again you hated that your wrists were tied together.

"Zayne, please!". You had never been above begging Zayne for something. Just like he had never been above begging, when you had him wrapped around your fingers. And Zayne wanted to make all of your wishes come true. That's why it didn't take long for you to feel his hot tongue against you. He was savoring every last inch of you, addicted to your taste and he was good at it. Using the perfect amount of pressure, sucking and sometimes nibbling on your clit, and then you felt his cold fingers again. "Let's see what happens when I do this". His words were muffled, because he had no intention of moving away from your pussy and then you already felt it. Zayne pushed two of his cold fingers into you, and that was a sensation you had never felt before.

The combination of his tongue and mouth working wonders and his cold fingers plunging in and out of you almost made your brain short circuit and Zayne knew exactly what he was doing. He moved his fingers at varying speed and with you pushing your hips more and more into his face, chasing the feeling, he knew that you were loving this. Tasting you, seeing you reacting to him like this, had made him so hard but he wanted this to be about you. Needed this to be about you. So he continued using his evol, pumping his fingers into you, lapping at your pussy until he felt you clenching around him.

"Mhmmm, come for me", he hummed against you and that only made you want to lose it even more. You had felt your climax building up the entire time but you were at your breaking point. Zayne was hitting all the right spots, playing you like a fiddle and that's when you lost it. That tight, delicious knot of feelings bursting and it truly felt like you were on fire. Your eyes rolled back as you bit down on your lip, trying not to scream out his name because you two were at the hospital after all, and you were shaking. Zayne's hold on your back became sturdier, knowing that you wouldn't be able to catch yourself if you fell back, and he didn't stop lapping at your pussy. Wanting to taste every single drop of you.

It took you a bit to ride out your climax and to calm down again, but Zayne was patient. He always had been. Once he was satisfied with watching you, knowing that you had come down from that high, he got up from the floor. At this point your brain was mush, only able to watch as he reached around you and untied your wrists. Zayne noticed that you were still trying to catch your breath, which is why he simply wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against his chest. You were definitely tired out, but the feeling of Zayne around you made you smile. "Thank you for the ice cream". You felt a soft kiss being placed on your forehead, yet all you could do was giggle.

[theyluvpeach]

black out.

chris takes care of you after you get a little too drunk at his frat ⋆ ★ dealer!reader x client!chris blurb!! pt 2 to your vibes are off :)

Since Chris was actually able to sleep last night, he's able to enjoy this party. He's not a huge fan of parties at his frat back to back, but when it's when of his favorite themes? Hell yeah.

Black Out is the simplest and funniest party theme ever, and since his entire wardrobe is already all black, he never has to go out and buy anything. The biggest thing he did to prepare for this party was trade his usual black shirt for a black tank top.

He was having a good time. Winning a few games of beer pong, losing a few of them, dancing with girls.

Then he saw you. He hates you immensely, really. Your mini black dress and star printed tights brought you so much attention that you might as well have dropped a metal water bottle in a dead silent classroom.

You make him wanna claw his heart out of his chest and blend it up. You, you're different from all the other girls. You give him a feeling that's unrecognizable while a heated kiss or even having sex with a girl does nothing for him. That's annoying as fuck.

He chugs down his beer as he watches you flirt with Aiden, one of his frat brothers. Whatever.

He's starting to think that he's the only one here who has common sense. You're actively stumbling and holding onto the wall to help you walk, and no one's helping you. He knows frat bro's are assholes, but what the hell?

He was going to send Matt to help you since you're friends, or Aiden even. All he is to you is a client, but again. Whatever. He can't find either of them. He hasn't been watching you or anything, but you are insanely hard to miss. He wonders how he failed to see you get this drunk.

He stares at you as you try to stumble to get to your destination. How is he supposed— "Matt?" You slur, turning your head towards him. "I've been looking for you all night." You throw yourself into his arms, he catches you. God, you're wasted. "Chris." He corrects you, staring down at your glittery covered eyelids. "You....you look a lot like Matt... right now." You tilt your head at him, "Triplets, remember?"

The gasp you do is adorable enough to make a smile end up on his face. "Ohhhhhhhhhh," You drag out. "I forgot." He changes the topic. "You're wasted."

"Yeah."

He rolls his eyes. "You come here with anyone?"

"Mh....." He watches as your eyes unfocus. "I.... don't think so." You're unbelievable. "You don't think so, Kid—?"

"Remember...walking here.....I think." You stutter out. He can't believe you're real. "From where?"

"My apartment." You say, giving him an intoxicated smile. "You don't look too happy with me."

"The closest apartments to campus are a ten minute walk. We started this thing at seven o'clock, are you fuckin' stupid? Why would you walk here—" He watches your eyebrows furrow before you drunkly attempt to push him away. He holds onto you harder. "M not stupid." You mumble, "My truck doesn't work."

"You still shouldn't have—"

"N my roommate doesn't like parties, and her boyfriend drives her around every where—" You interrupt, "It's not safe to walk around at night—"

"N, I don't think she really likes me anymore cause' I think she found out that I sell drugs—"

"Kid—"

"M not stupid." He huffs, "Yeah, but it's not—"

"I didn't have a—" He slams his hand over your mouth. "You're not stupid, okay? You're really smart, and you know what really smart girls do? They give me her phone so I can call their roommate and tell them you're staying here tonight." He watches you blink at him. Once, then twice. "Staying.....here?"

"I just got my car cleaned, I'm not giving you the chance to throw up in it."

"Oh...... My phone's dead."

"You remember her number, right?" He removes his left arm, that's wrapped around you to reach into his back pocket for his phone. "She changed her number cause' she was getting too many spam calls n I can't remember it."

What the fuck.

Chris leaves the whole calling your roommate problem for later. Right now, he's focused on you and carrying you to his room. After he's done, he's gonna pray that Matt isn't in the middle of a heated make-out session and can hopefully help him with you.

"You better not throw up." He says, finally opening the door to his room that ends your treacherous journey. "M not, I promise." You mumble, "Off—" You say, starting to slip off the straps of your dress.

He doesn't really understand what you're talking about until he turns around from closing his door, "Woahwoahwoah— Kid—" Luckily, he only sees you start to pull it down. He quickly covers his eyes. "You can't just strip!"

"But I'm uncomfortable!" He hears you whine, "I'll get you something to sleep in, alright?— Just pull your dress back up!" He quickly picks out a hoodie from his closet, when he turns around and finds you face planting on his bed is when he notices the zipper on your dress.

"Kid."

"Mhnfp..?" You let out a noise that gets muffled by his bed sheets. "There's a zipper."

"Oh." He watches you sit up and grab at the back of your dress, attempting to pull at the zipper. "Can't." You whine. "Chris..?"

He swallows and drops the hoodie he picked out for you on his bed. He shifts closer to your spot on the bed, moves your hair out of the way, then unzips your dress. Giving him the perfect view of the mini angel wings you have tattooed on your back.

His heart physically hurts. "Thanks." You mutter, not caring that your dress just fell off your body in front of him, thank God he's facing your back side.

"Hoodie." He reminds you, you slip it on, and turn around towards him. "Gonna go get Matt n were gonna get you water and—" His words die in his throat as you pull off your star tights. "Ah."

"Itchy." Is all you give as an explanation before you're crawling up to where his pillows are and hide yourself under the covers. He's so happy his hoodie covers your ass.

"You're not gonna throw up in my bed, right?" You shake your head into his pillows, "Kid, I swear—"

"I promise!— I'm not gonna throw up in your bed." He watches you curl yourself into a ball, "Night, Chris." You say sleepily, falling asleep immediately.

He observes you for a moment, taking in how cute you look in his hoodie. "Night, Kid."

tags 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚: @inspiredangel @whore4mattsturniolo @domizzzsstuff @sosasturns

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

This is an ask following up from million dollar man because that was a masterpiece of angst. Are you able to write a sequel to that ? Specifically how two face realises that Tiffany is fake and tries to look for reader going full yandere because he realised that he was in the desert and fell for a mirage (Tiffany) and now he's more thirsty than ever in his soul because he drove the real fresh stream of water he needed (that being the reader) away.

But, two face can only find rumours of the reader being with slade and slade is a man that unfortunately two face can't afford to make an enemy out of. So, for now, he waits in the shadows for slade to mess up so that he can do anything to grovel and win reader back. Reader in this has moved on from him and has no intentions of ever being vulnerable with anyone like that again. She likes being with slade because she knows she will never trust him and that protects her from being vulnerable around him. Really I just want a fic where two face is privately loosing his mind trying to hunt for the reader and trying to figure out ways to get close to her again even though he knows he has completely ruined this for himself and he knows that the reader will never forgive him for what he has done, in this way he is no better than the batfam and this completely sickens him. This could happen around the same time that the Batfam realises Tiffany is a fake because I just think on the karma side of things it would be so delicious if the batfam and two face all go wild realising they've made such a big mistake but they can only find rumours of the reader because she's long gone and those rumours are not comforting because though she isn't aware of them yandere Slade has secretly let everyone know that she belongs to him and unlike the others he isn't stupid enough to want a fake like Tiffany when he doesn't evet intend to let the real thing (reader) go.

OKKKK PERFECT!!! I am writing another part and it is somewhere along these lines tbhhhh! ugh so much angst- i love 💕💕💕

thanks for the ask babes! i’m cooking it up rn but it might be out tmrw or after!

[darling2411]

Her Shadow

Jason Todd x reader

1.8K

*:･✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You were confused. It's been nearly a week since you last saw your shadow. Was he gone? Did you scare him off when you called out for him? Or did something happen?

Why did you even care? It wasn't like you knew him. But you missed the feeling of safety his closeness gave you. Yes you never saw him,but you always sensed his presence, and you missed him now that you didn't.

You stopped feeling alone as soon as your shadow entered your life because you weren't. No matter where you went, you could always rely on him to be there. 

Jason longed to be with you, but he had to stay away until he recovered from a mission gone wrong.

He had to lay low for a while after you saw him anyway. But the week he had to spend away from you was one of the hardest things he ever had to do.

His entire being begged to be with you. To keep an eye on you and make sure everything was okay. He had even gone so far as to think about asking his brother to come see how you were doing and find out whether everything was okay, but he decided against it. Jason wanted to keep you all to himself. And to be fair he doesn't even really have you. Yes he knows as much about you as he could figure out without really breaking every sense of your privacy. But you don't know him. And he had to change that as soon as possible. Jason wanted to get to know you, but he didn’t know how he could achieve that.

Like a gift sent from heaven the solution to his most pressing problem came in the form of yourself. 

Other than a few scratches on his face Jason was all healed, but he hasn't seen you in 10 days and he missed you.

He was on his way back to his apartment when he unexpectedly saw you. His heart started beating faster and he could swear that if it could his heart would jump out of his chest and intertwine with yours.

However, all of his optimistic thoughts vanished when he realizes in what situation you are in and instead his head is filled with rage.

A man was pressing you against the brick wall of a building and you were screaming at him to let you go. You were making it clear that you didn’t want this, that he was making you incredibly uncomfortable, but the guy wouldn't let you go. 

Jason was fuming and before he himself could realize what he was doing he pulled the man off you and started beating him.

You were able to breathe again as soon as the man was shoved away from you and after taking a few deep breaths you noticed that the man who pushed the creep of you was still beating him. You heard a sickening crunch and you knew it was the sound of bones breaking. 

"Hey!" you exclaimed, "please stop." And as soon as your voice reached Jason's ears he stopped immediately, his sole focus on you.

"Are you alright?" His breathing was irregular as he asked.“Did he hurt you?”

You shake your head no “ Other than being a creep you stepped in before anything bad could happen.”

“Don't do that” Jason said, his gaze still full of rage, “That he even put his hand on you without you giving him permission is to much”

You flushed and shrugged your shoulders, saying, "I know, but it wasn't like he assaulted me." 

“He did!” Why were you so adamant on telling him that nothing happened?

“Perhaps, but it makes no difference. You stopped him and nothing really happened. And I'm not gonna say anything anyway.” you rolled your eyes.

Jason was baffled “What do you mean you won't say anything? You have to report him.” He looked at you expectantly.

"Report him?I will either get fired or no one will believe me if I report him, Mister-huge-bicep.” You say being unable not to notice his shirt pressing against the bulging muscles in his arms. You turned to the creep who unfortunately happened to be your boss or rather professor. You were his assistant and most of the time he behaved himself but lately more often than not he made weird jokes and sexual comments. But you needed the money, the job in the little supermarket on the corner didn't cover all your expenses. And you really like your little apartment. If not for your job as a teaching assistant you would have to move back in with your mother and that was something you really don't want to do. 

Mr. Huge Bicep? Jason was overcome with male pride, but he was unable to concentrate on it at the moment. There were more pressing matters. “Is he your boss?” He took a step towards you, saying, “Yn. I asked if he is your boss”

Hold on, did he just say your name? Did you tell him? You must have but when?

“How do you know my name? I didn't tell you, did i?”

Shit, he fucked up” That doesnt matter right now, Is he your boss or not?”

"Yes, he is. He is my professor and also my boss. I’ m his teaching assistant and I really need that job”

“Alright this is what we’re going to do now. First of all I'm gonna walk you home and make sure nothing else happens to you. Then we are going to talk about what you plan to do with your professor and after that I'm gonna explain to you why I know your name, alright ?”

“That sounds good and I'm gonna make us a little something to eat and don't you even try to say no. It's the least I can do after you literally saved me.” you smiled up at him kindly.

How could he ever say no to you in any way? He was totally smitten with you and he never even really talked to you until today.

“Alright” You already turned away from him and didn't see the slight smile on his face after he accepted your invitation.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The two of you made your way over to your apartment. If you noticed that he led the way there without you telling him where to go you didn't say anything. 

You opened the door when you arrived and let him inside. 

Your apartment is a pure reflection of yourself. It is plaid out in your favourite colours and all your little hyperfixation are displayed all over the place. It was so unapologetically you and Jason immediately felt at peace. Just like he usually did when he was following you around as your shadow and was in your mere presence .

“Nice place” he muttered as you ushered him into your little kitchen. 

“Thanks, I love it” you beamed.

Yeah he could see that. “Is that why you don't want to tell anyone about your boss?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Yes,” you answered silently.” If I want to keep this place and I really do, then I also have to keep that job.” You just got your shot at independence and you weren't going to let it slip through your fingers without a fight.

“Okay then.”, Jason sighed, ”Has he ever done anything similar ?” he asked, his fist clenched tight. The simple thought of you being in a situation like this before without him there was making him want to punch the professor all over again. Additionally he was extremely mad at himself because how could he not know that you had a second job and that your professor was a fucking creep? If he had known about this he would have helped you sooner. Jason hoped that your boss would still be where he left him later so he could give him another beating for even thinking about you inappropriately.

“No, not really. I mean he always made little comments but he has never been physical with me before. I think it is my fault. I was really nice to him this morning and said that we could meet up to mark the next exams after the lectures were finished and I think he misunderstood me.” your voice got more unsure the more you tried to explain yourself.

“This was definitely not your fault. He is stupid and heard what he wanted to hear. Nothing that happened had anything to do with what you said or how you behaved. This is not your fault, sweetheart” Jason squeezed your shoulders reassuringly.

You looked at him sheepishly, his fingers now drawing little patterns into your skin calming you down. “ I know that I'm supposed to feel like that, but I can't help but feel guilty. I know that the guilt has to change sides but the victims almost always gets all the blame and it’s so deep ingrained in us that even I as a woman sometimes think that it is my fault and that is so messed up.” You sigh heavily.

“Yes it is that is why you have to report him” Jason says trying to persuade you to do the thing he thinks is right.”Nothing will change if you don’t try.”

“You really think that it will help?” you ask, still unsure if anything will change if you report your professor.

“If I come with you yes” Jason says extremely sure of himself.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you ask perplexed.

“Well I uhm” he trailed off , not quite sure what to say. Should he already tell you about his connection to Bruce? “I mean I saw what happened so im sure they have to believe you if  you have a witness.” 

“You're right I will report him first thing in the morning. I hope you know that you have to come with me. You are the witness after all.” Now it is your time to look at him expectantly.

He did know and the possibility of spending more time with you made him all giddy inside.

“Yeah, no problem.” He looked at you intensely, finally being able to really look at you without as much distance between you as when he was keeping an eye on you from far away. You are the most magnificent thing Jason has ever laid his eyes upon. And if he could he would never stop looking at you.

“You said you would tell me how you know my name?”,that got Jason's attention and he stopped staring at your perfectly kissable lips and focused on your eyes instead.

“Yes but how about we eat something before I tell you?” He asked, trying to delay the conversation as long as he could before he has to tell you everything and you wouldn’t want to see him ever again.

He hopes you won't hate him when he confesses to being your shadow.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[uselessmoonlight]

Stranger part 17

Reader is Telemachus' friend, and when he leaves for his "diplomatic mission" he asks her to watch over his mother. Later, once the king has returned, she stumbles upon an injured Poseidon.

Previous / series masterlist / character sheet / next

☆☆☆

Content specs: she/her pronouns used, afab reader, Platonic! Telemachus x reader, Epic!Poseidon x reader, possible OOC!Poseidon, Polites’ daughter! Reader, unrequited love, blood, fighting, nudity, illusion, possibly more?, trying to avoid using y/n, slowburn, suggestive themes.

☆☆☆

When she did not show her face the next day, the towns people thought she was tired from the festivities of the day before. When she did not show her face the day after, they decided she was likely ill. The day after that, Irene went to Ónoma’s home, a basket with necessities in hand, but her friend did not open the door.

Concerned, she approached the prince and enlisted his help in contacting their mutual friend, but to no avail. Ónoma was not in her house, nor had anyone seen her. Perikles was no where to be found, either. Irene had hoped to find the man and ask him about Ónoma, but now she feared that he might have taken her.

She was proven wrong when the next day her friend appeared for her duties at the temple, then disappeared again. The village started to feel the strain of her absence. They’d known she was a great help around town but had not realized just how much they relied on her.

The day after the ritual, Irene and Telemachus set out to find her. With the help of his mentor, Telemachus was able to track her down in the woods of the island. When the two confronted her, she was not as emaciated as they’d expected, just downcast. Neither had seen their friend in such a state before.

“What happened?” Irene asked softly. Ónoma had been in some sort of trance and had not heard their approach. She tensed at the unexpected company, but did not look up at them.

“Nothing.” Barely a whisper came from her.

“Nothing happened?” Telemachus retorted. “So you’re just hiding for the fun of it?” Irene wanted to interject, not agreeing with the prince’s anger. Her friend looked broken, fragile, she needed soft words, understanding, not this. But before she could say anything of it, the prince continued.

“My father was about to send out a search party, confront that man himself.” He spat the words, disdain for Perikles clear. “But it wasn’t even him, you just ran away, like a coward.”

“Man? He didn’t even tell you what happened, then?” Ónoma countered, looking up now, eyes blazing, but cheeks still tear streaked. “You come here to chastise me, yet you don’t know what happened.” She spat at her friend.

“Oh stop the dramatics.” Telemachus was angrier than she’d ever seen him, but there was no reason she could think of that could have angered him so. “You’re never this emotional, what makes this man so special.” Once again he spat the word, and something clicked.

“You’re jealous.” She stated, followed by a humourless laugh. “I’m more emotional than you’ve ever seen me, clearly in need of a friend, but instead you yell at me because you’re jealous?” Her voice turned venomous. “Was I ever really your friend? Or was it all because you liked me?”

She looked even more hurt now than when they’d found her. Telemachus paled, this was not what he’d wanted to happen, he’d thought she’d snap out of it at his words. Irene was scrambling to find a way to calm her friend.

“Perhaps it’s best if you leave us, prince Telemachus. You two should talk again once you’ve both calmed down a bit. This is not helping.” She decided on. The prince wanted to refuse, but the look on Irene’s face halted him. She was right, he would only make it worse.

☆☆☆

Irene and Ónoma had sat in silence for a long time. The former having moved to sit beside her friend on the ground, she’d worry about her dirty dress later, or perhaps she’d let Ónoma worry about it, as payback. Ónoma had moved her head to rest on Irene’s shoulder, silent tears dripping down her face.

“Will you tell me what happened?” Irene asked, softly.

“Always the peacekeeper, huh ‘rene?” Ónoma tried to joke, only to be met with a stern look. “I was a fool, that’s what happened.”

“I gathered as much.” Her friend joked.

“Oh so you’re allowed to make jokes, huh?” Ónoma replied, a soft smile growing on her face. “Fine, I’ll tell you everything. Promise you won’t judge?” Irene said nothing, but interlaced her pinky with Ónoma’s.

And so she went into a long explanation, telling her all that had happened between her and the man, and how she discovered that his name was not Perikles, how she now doubted everything he told her, everything he’d done, and everything he may have intended to do. “It’s why I left for the woods, he’s been knocking on my door all hours of the day, I just got so sick and tired of it that I left. It’s been surprisingly peaceful here, I even started practicing my archery skills again. Perhaps I’ll become a priestess, like my mother always expected. I wouldn’t have to deal with men anymore, or at least not like that.” She rambled.

“You’d have to work with Apollo, last I knew that was something you did not want to do.” Irene replied, emphasizing the not.

“I’ll manage, it’s better than this at least.” Ónoma countered, though in reality she realized the flaws in her plan. Irene smiled at her, recognizing the joking tone.

“Have you let him explain his side?” She asked.

“What is there to explain? He deceived me, then expected me to just welcome him back with open arms. He thinks I’m a fool, too, or he would not have expected that of me.” She said, dejectedly.

“Perhaps you should hear what he has to say, not now, but just, he’s still a God, alright. What if he gets mad at you for not hearing him out?” a hint of fear palpable in the girl’s voice. “With that said, I need to get back before dark or my mother will freak out, but just think about it, okay?”

“I’ll think about it, thank you, Irene. Don’t worry about me too much, will you?”

“With how much trouble you get into? How can I not?” She teased. “Bye Peach! Love you!” she yelled behind her as she walked away.

“She’s right, you know. You are pretty ballsy to deny a God like this.” A familiar voice sounded, the mischief surprisingly comforting. Ónoma smiled. Hermes.

Next.

☆☆☆

Taglist:

@apollos-dodgeball-target

@barrythestrawberry041

@doodle-with-rhy

@h0ne4bee

@isla-finke-blog

@keikeiluvyou

@suckerforblondies

@trashcannotbealive

[fallenaphelion]

Sorry in advance, I am a Tony stan. But like, mostly comic Iron Man? Honestly MCU is a bit of a meh point for me, but I did have a period of time where I sought out pretty much every Team Iron Man fic out there (It was copium, I know), and most of it is Team Cap bashing (Again, I prefer comics to the MCU. I pretty much stopped being interested after Age of Ultron, and I haven’t watched anything from after Endgame). I can’t speak for all my fellow Tony stans out there, but for me, it was being unsatisfied with Civil War. It doesn’t go into the Accords at all beyond the basic “Don’t invade foreign nations with your team that basically amounts to a private militia funded by a former war profiteer.” Like, I only recently learned about the registration, tracking, and waiving their rights to a trial, because the movie never mentioned the Accords after the initial introduction. For all the movie does talk about it, it genuinely sounds like a necessary legislation. I just think the Cap hate would be nearly so ridiculous if the movie had actually gone into the inhumane aspects of the thing, which it didn’t because it was too busy with the Bucky plot. They could’ve never mentioned the accords and the movie still would’ve made sense, and Team Cap would be a lot better off for it in the fandom.

Honestly, though, one of the biggest reasons I’ve seen people hating on Cap is because of the whole “Winter Soldier killed Howard and Maria Stark and Steve said nothing about it.” Which, yeah, sucks, but I also don’t think he knew that exactly. He knew Hydra had them killed, sure, but he does explicitly say he didn’t know it was Bucky, so… Still not great?

Take all of this with a grain of salt, considering I’m biased and my all time favorite superhero ever has and probably always will be Iron Man. (Spider Man is a very close second tho)

As for why these fic writers do mental gymnastics trying to make reasons for their favorite characters to side with Tony? Wish fulfillment. That is literally it. It’s just the story they want to tell. You can do the exact same thing, and that’s perfectly fine! The thing to remember about fanfiction is that it’s written by those who do love the source material, in one way or another! It’s also completely free. They don’t get paid to write these stories, so they should be able to write their perfect fantasy. Everyone is allowed that.

My suggestion: Filter, filter, filter. There’s a lot of fics out there that just aren’t going to be your cup of tea, but it’s someone’s, so best to just ignore it and move on to things you actually care about. You’ll want to exclude Team Cap bashing and Team Iron Man, for starters. Honestly, go wild with it. Find your perfect story.

I will continue to read Team Iron Man fics, because I love seeing my favorite hero be the good guy. Doesn’t mean I’m not aware he’s problematic. (I know I said I had a period of time where I sought them out, and I did!! Then I stopped caring for a while! But I’ve circled back around and am now in the trenches again)

I have a question.

Why da fuq do some of these annoying Tony stans think that every character from different stories would be on Team Iron Man and approve on the accords?! It’s bad enough that they make fanfics that twist, bash and warp Team Cap or any other character, and make Tony a victim and always right all the time, but they have to make crossovers where other characters would prop up Tony and bash on Steve and his team.

You got Naruto, My Hero Academia, Dragonball/Z/Super, Yu-Gi-Oh!, Supernatural, Bleach, How to Train your Dragon, Steven Universe, She-Ra, DC comics, Doctor Who, Lucifer, Sonic, even freaking Inside Out, just to name a few.

Not every character will side with the accords. Not every character will side with Tony. Some characters will side with Steve and can have legit reasons. If some of them did their research on the characters, they would know that some of them would be on one side or on neither. But they don’t because they don’t give a damn. These kind of fics keep popping up, and I’m getting sick of it. The Marvel tag on fanfiction is getting ridiculous, I just wanna find some good domestic Avengers fanfics or anything with some good stories. Not ones that bash on Team Cap and have the rest wank on Tony 24/7. Jeez. >_<

[ceo-of-sloppy-women]

No grave can hold my body down; I'll crawl home to her

Chapter 13

read it on ao3

Chapter 14

CW: alcoholism & heavy drug usage

You know you have to find some way to get through to her, but every time you open your mouth, she outright snarls! You’re nearly back at Zaun, and you still haven’t managed to get a word in edge-wise, too afraid she’ll snap at you and leave you in the mountains to fend for yourself. Yet, your hands knit together in your reigns, brows furrowed, watching her in the vain hope she’ll turn around and demand you spit it out.

No such luck.  

Eventually, you’re fed up and can see Zaun peaking over the horizon. There’s still a leg of the trail to go – twisting down the mountain and into the valley – so you muster all the courage (and audacity) you have left in your body to finally speak.

“What the fuck was that back there?” It comes out harsher than intended; you cringe at your own words.

Sevika’s head whips around, glaring you down as if she can get you to shut up again. She speaks haltingly as if each word is a poisoned dagger: “Drop it. It wasn’t anything. We encountered a horde. That’s it.”

“You almost died, Sevika!” you counter, urging King up alongside Duchess. “Died. As in: I would have been left alone in Piltover to find my way back to Zaun with or without your corpse. And now you won’t even let me talk about it! We should have started heading back the moment you began limping, not three hours afterwards, when we finally got caught. I don’t understand you; one moment, you’re perfectly fine with asking for help; the next, you stiffen your lip at the barest inkling that maybe that injury did more to you than we know. It’s fucking dangerous as Hell!”

“Drop it,” Sevika growls, shoulders tensed as she glares at the ground in front of her.

“No, I will not! Do you even know how it felt when I realized you weren’t behind me? I thought you were dead. That I was going to have to drag the corpse of my best friend out of the bottom of an infected horde just to give you a proper fucking burial. I don’t give a rat’s ass if you’ve got a death wish or some fucked up complex; that was the worst fear I have ever felt in my life! And I have run from – Hell, even gone up against – infected hordes by myself with nothing more than a machete. So, I’m sorry that I won’t ‘Drop it’ because you are trying to brood away the pain instead of appearing weak, but I’d rather you have admitted you needed a fucking break than put both of us in that position! I don’t give a flying rat’s ass if you can’t do everything you could before your leg got bit or you lost your arm because I never really knew you before those. You’re not weak to me if you’re in pain, Sev’ you’re just human. Given all the fucked-up shit that’s happened in the world, I’ll take human over dead any day of the week. Suffering silently around me doesn’t do either of us any good – it’s not as if I’ll go out to every person in Zaun and besmirch your reputation. I haven’t told anyone about your leg for three weeks! I can keep shit to myself – you know that. So, excuse me if I’d prefer you alive than dead, especially if you died to save my sorry ass. I had nowhere and nobody before I met you, Sevika, don’t make me lose that again.”

You’re panting by the time you finish your rant, so caught up in the emotional turmoil that had been stewing for hours that you hadn’t been able to shut your mouth after you made your point. You just had to go and beat a dead horse.

Sevika turns her head away from you, hanging it low towards the earth beneath your horses. Your gut broils with anxiety – worried you’ve finally broken the last straw and shoved her away from you for good. The rest of the ride is silent as you wind your hands in King’s reigns, glancing nervously at her as Duchess trudges down the trail. You want to speak up – to say something, anything, that might fix the damage you unwittingly inflicted but can’t find the words to justify your actions. As Zaun’s gates dawn on you, you can almost taste blood from how hard you’re biting your tongue. Remorse doesn’t even begin to describe the turmoil broiling in your gut.

Out of everything you have said to her over the past few weeks, why did you have to go and find a way to fuck it up now?

As you dismount King, you stand nervously in the stables, unsure if you’re allowed to follow Sevika home. She’s pulling the supplies out of Duchess’ saddlebags and setting the saddle on a nearby post with a blank expression that twists your gut. Thankfully, Grayson swoops in, unwittingly saving you from the Hell you created.

“Ah, good, you two are back sooner than expected. I can take the supplies –“ she reaches out to take them from your arms; you let them go willingly – “Singed has requested your help today. I’m still putting the finishing touches on your printing press, assuming you have found the supplies I requested. That candy shop of yours is almost open for business.”

“Yes, we, er – we found the supplies. Nearly got chomped, but we managed it,” you mumble absent-mindedly, sending one final glance to Sevika. Her back is to you, busy brushing out Duchess. A sullen sigh escapes you before you can catch it. “You said Singed needs me?”

You miss the way Grayson arches an eyebrow behind your back, readjusting the supplies in her arms. “In an hour or so… why don’t you join me for breakfast? You can help me take these supplies to the warehouse, and then I can pay you back in kind with a hot meal. Nothing fancy, just the diner.”

“Sounds great,” you say with feigned enthusiasm. You take the rest of the supplies – Sevika’s supplies – that had been leaning against the stable stall for someone to cart off.

There’s not much more you can say to Sevika; what could you possibly muster up that you haven’t already said – that wouldn’t make it worse? Following Grayson out of the barn, you toss a quick goodbye to King over your shoulder. It’s up to Sevika whether or not she hears it as well. You can handle the dilemma of where you’re sleeping tonight after your shift; right now, you’re going to enjoy the fact you’re still alive. You are not her girlfriend; You are her friend. You are not responsible for Sevika’s self-sacrificial behaviour, no matter how much you wish you were. You have made your point; it is up to her if she listens or if you’re sleeping at… okay, well, you’re not quite sure where you’ll sleep tonight if she kicks you out, but you can cross that bridge when you get to it.

Grayson leads you to a nearby warehouse used to store Zaun’s communal materials. The new items are placed in a bin at the front, and workers snatch them up to catalogue what has been brought in. Grayson immediately checks out the supplies for the printing press, carting them off to her store to stash them away. You follow after her like a lost puppy as she weaves through the streets with a practiced ease, the silence stretched between the two of you eased with light conversation about your day-to-day lives. Little things, such as a particularly difficult chair order she had to fulfill and your work with Singed. She maintains a mild curiosity as the two of you step into the diner, her holding the door open for you (you duck and blush, trying not to focus on the way her bicep flexes from the weight of the door).

A waitress sits you at a table near the window, sunlight shining onto your table, casting the menus and Grayson’s black hair in a golden glow. You giggle nervously when your fingers brush reaching for the waters the waitress brings to the table before leaving you to contemplate your orders.

“Everything sounds so good after nine years without all of this,” you say, torn between absolutely everything on the menu. “What do you recommend?”

Grayson rests her chin between her forefinger and thumb, levelling you with a thoughtful gaze. You try not to squirm as she drags her eyes across your face.

“The crepes. Jericho has spent the last year perfecting them after Vi found Caitlyn in Piltover. Young Kiramman always requests them for breakfast. You will enjoy them; they come with fresh strawberries,” Grayson states in a tone that swings violently between flirtatious and matter-of-fact, making your head spin.

“Get all that from my face, did you?” you ask, exhorting her to piece out her reasoning.

“It was an educated guess that you enjoy sweet things, darling. A majority of the menu items involve syrup or sugar – your inability to choose between them suggested such,” Grayson explains as the waitress returns, burying the pet name amongst the tall grass of her logic.

You swallow thickly, ducking your head ever so slightly – embarrassed you were so easy to read (and maybe a little turned on from the careful attention). Grayson orders for both of you: for you, crepes and an egg (she does ask for your preference); for herself, two eggs, sunny-side up, with a side of whole wheat toast and beef-based sausages. You can feel yourself begin to salivate as the waitress asks if you would prefer strawberry syrup or maple syrup, greedily ordering both. Grayson chuckles softly as if she’s amused and pleased at your order (you can’t help but blush, ducking your head to hide it). The waitress merely jots it down and promises the food will be out shortly.

Leaving you and Grayson to sit quietly at the table, conversation stagnating between you two. Only the gentle hum of other people’s conversations and the old melody playing out of the jukebox fill the diner. It does not help that you are expending all your mental energy ogling Grayson as stealthily as you can manage, still dressed in Sevika’s shirt, and fueled by more than a little pent-up frustration at Sevika. Part of you is secretly hoping that Sevika will walk into the diner to see you and Grayson having breakfast together, think it’s a date, and stake her claim on you. Unfortunately, that is merely wishful thinking, and you know deep down Sevika doesn’t want you that way.

She’s just a friend.

Being friendly.

The chaste kisses on the cheek and the way she holds you just a little longer than necessary are nothing more than platonic. Today proved that much.

“What is plaguing you?” Grayson asks, breaking the silence.  

“Sorry, what?” you blink back into reality, staring at her owlishly.

“Unless you are hungrier than I thought, you have the look of someone… deeply troubled,” Grayson explains calmly, resting her arms on the tabletop. It makes her shirt strain around her well-built frame. “Anything I can help with?”

“Sorry, no,” you apologize again, fidgeting with your sleeve. “I’m just tired… and Piltover was… a lot – to put it mildly. We nearly died; frankly, I’m surprised we didn’t. There was a moment where I was certain that blowing us up was better than letting the approaching horde of infected tear us apart. Which, is strange to say even now, after everything that has happened, but, unfortunately, the apocalypse never seems to cheapen.”

Grayson rests her hand over yours, stopping you from unraveling the fraying sleeve of Sevika’s shirt. “I am sure Singed would understand if you went home. The apocalypse catches up to us all, eventually. There are days where I don’t open my doors – when I still remember the worst of it all.”

You focus on the gentle sensation of her thumb stroking against the back of your hand as you shake your head slowly. “I couldn’t. I kind of tore Sevika a new asshole for the stunt she pulled – it’s a long and personal story I don’t think she’d appreciate me telling other people about, but the short version is that she almost died instead of asking for help. Now she won’t talk to me… I think I fucked up, and now I don’t even have a place to sleep tonight.”

“Sevika’s a big girl; she can handle a little lecture here and there. She just doesn’t like to admit that others are right. Give her time; she’ll come around. If she doesn’t concede before the end of the day – or you find yourself without a place to sleep – I have a spare bedroom at my place that you’re free to crash in,” Grayson offers, squeezing your hand. Her warm smile coils in your gut, radiating like a hot meal scarfed down too fast, warming you from the inside out whether you like it or not.

You can’t help but give yourself over to the sensation. “Thank you; hopefully, I don’t have to take you up on the offer, but it’s nice to know I have the option.”

Her smile only burns brighter, and you can’t help but smile with her. You want to say more – she looks like she’s about to say more. Then the waitress returns, setting your respective plates in front of you, and the two of you pull apart as if you’d been burned.

Breakfast is delicious, just as she promised. You have to hold yourself back from scarfing it down all at once, torn between a desire to savour it and the starving hunger you hadn’t acknowledged until food was in front of you. You are barely able to stop yourself from licking the plate clean! Thankfully, you manage to reign yourself in so you don’t make a bigger fool out of yourself in front of Grayson. If she notices the desperation in your eyes, she doesn’t comment on it, instead making polite conversation about the various menu items. Things she liked, the different dishes the chefs were better at, and ingredient sources. You make a mental note to invite her over for breakfast one day and cook something to repay her for today – though you’re not sure what you’ll make as she had far too many favourite dishes to choose from.

After the two of you have finished, Grayson walks you to Singed’s lab, insisting you can crash on her couch instead if you need. You assure her it’s a generous offer, but the pay you earn is too good to pass up, as you want to have enough money squirrelled away to keep the printing press afloat. She respects your wishes, walking you to the door. Singed is lazily strolling about his garden, picking out various herbs and flowers, waving you to head inside by yourself.

Grayson stops you just before the door, taking your hand in hers and kissing your knuckles with chapped lips. You flush a brilliant scarlet, heart thundering in your chest.

“Stay safe and out of trouble today,” she says, straightening up as you will your hand to drop slowly to your side.

Without giving yourself time to hesitate, you lean forward and plant a kiss on her cheek (desperately hoping you’re not being too brash). She blushes softly and smiles down at you, yet all you can feel is a cruel twist of betrayal in your chest. It feels… wrong – you hate how wrong it feels, how much you wish she was Sevika. There’s no denying Grayson is an attractive woman, but even a harmless flirt feels like the most heinous betrayal. Yet, that twisting green-eyed monster inside of you roars in triumph, desperate to make Sevika jealous you’re giving another woman attention. Even if it’s a terrible position to put Grayson in…

“You as well,” you whisper, pulling back and slipping inside Singed’s lab.

Your heart thunders in your chest as you pull yourself through the process of getting ready – lab coat, gloves, boots, and every piece of PPE that Singed has squirrelled away to keep anyone inside his lab safe. Singed is still outside when you’re done, so you take a moment to look around. It’s a harmless pastime that you’ve done countless times before, yet this time, there’s something new. Sitting on his work desk on top of one of your journals, as if he’d left it out for you to find, is a key. Unassuming, sterile grey, with the letter ‘O’ engraved onto the top. You contemplate it for a moment before pocketing it. If he meant it for you, what was the harm of taking the initiative? He’s never complained about you doing so before. Killing time, you glance up at the map above his work desk to find a small pin with the same ‘O’ on it – it could just be a coincidence, there are countless pins, yet all of them are engraved with a different letter. This one is stabbed straight through the science district of Piltover… it could just be a coincidence, but you’ve survived for far too long betting on fate to take it at face value. You hastily scribble down the rough location in your journal as you hear the door to the lab open.

Singed finds you standing at the ready next to the old surgery chair, where the corpse of an infected lays. He nods approvingly, stepping toward you and beginning the start of his usual morning dissection, having you take notes. He does not mention the key; neither do you.

Routine overtakes you, the key quickly forgotten in the ocean of events that happen throughout the day. Singed has enough energy to open the clinic today, and the first person you see is Ekko, who managed to get a piece of rebar through part of his arm in a freak accident at the construction site. Singed scolds Ekko to no end as Singed gives him a dosage of homemade antibiotics while you clean and dress the wound. A few people come in with broken bones, some with scratch marks, and one kid with three bee stings (she had been picking flowers near Sevika’s bee boxes). Then, Vander came in with a broken pinky that he swore wasn’t from carrying crates around the warehouse, as Singed had prescribed him to ease off the manual labour to allow a previous shoulder injury to heal. You splint Vander’s fingers while Singed lectures him so hard it makes your lecture to Sevika seem like a playground squabble.

By the end, you’re too tired to do much of anything besides sleep. The sun has already set and Singed paid you a fair amount that nearly doubled in size when Vander gave you hazard pay for the Piltover trip. So, you treat yourself and Vander to dinner at the diner, too exhausted to bother cooking – the two of you order the steak special with poutine, steamed carrots and fried mushrooms. All of which sound like absolute heaven to you.

The universe allows you ten blissful minutes of ignorance while you wait, before Vander leans forward and asks: “So, not that I don’t appreciate this, but why didn’t you take Sevika instead of me?”

You hate his ability to cut straight to the chase like a truth-seeking bloodhound. Trying to shrug it off, you say: “Do I have to do everything with her?”

“No, but that hasn’t stopped you since you got here,” Vander points out, and you scratch at your wrist underneath the cuff of Sevika’s shirt.

“We had a fight,” you mumble to the table.

“A fight? About what? It couldn’t have been that bad that you scared her off – or did she finally scare you off?” Vander presses, taking on an almost joking tone to add a light-hearted air to the conversation.

“No, I –“ you run a hand through your hair and sigh heavily – “Fuck, Vander, I shouldn’t be telling you this. It ain’t your mess to get caught up in.”

“Kid, trust me, I’ve had worse. You think I’ve never had to give romantic advice before? My daughters’ aren’t exactly the most functional or communicative people out there,” Vander chuckles, leaning back in the booth. “Come on, spill the beans.”

You scoff at the absurdity, shaking your head. A sad smile dances across your lips for a brief moment before the grief of Sevika’s friendship smothers it. “Okay, fine. She nearly got herself killed out there because she wouldn’t take a break and rest. I said some pretty presumptuous things about her working herself to the bone because she needs to prove she’s still dependable despite her injury. And that I was afraid of her dying; that I didn’t want her to die for me…”

“Oh.”

You bob your head and swallow, refusing to look him in the eyes. “She kinda stopped talking after that. I haven’t seen her since we came back this morning. I know I fucked up, I just don’t think I can handle hearing her say it.”

“Kid –“ Vander is cut off by the waitress setting your plates down in front of you. He waits for her to leave before continuing – “Kid, I’ve been with Sevika through the thick and thin of it, and I’ve tried to tell her the same damn thing a dozen times over. She’ll forgive you, and if she doesn’t, I’ll knock her upside the head until she does. In the, uh, sparing ring – don’t go around thinking we beat each other up for being headstrong. All she needs is time. She’s taken a real shine to you; she won’t just up and force you out of her life.”

“Okay, good, thanks – I don’t think I could handle losing yet another person in my life. At least not to my own stupidity. It might be best if I give her some space, though… do you know if the printing shop is done yet? I know Grayson has almost finished the press itself, but I haven’t gotten an update on the shop.”

Vander drags a hand over his face with a tired sigh: “Sevika was supposed to tell you before you left, but you – fuck we sent you on a mission without even giving you the good news. The shop is done – I’ll show you after dinner – but kid, I don’t think you should do this. This is going to send the wrong message. I know Sevika can be intense at times, but –“

“Vander, I appreciate it, really I do. It’s just… I want to stop being a burden to everyone. Maybe if I put a little space between us, it’ll hurt less the next time she goes and almost gets herself killed.”

His brow creases together, lips pursed, and a pitiful look shimmering in his eyes. He takes your hand, stilling it from almost cutting the knife through your plate.    “I won’t force you into anything; I can only give you my best advice. If you think it’s for the best, I won’t stand in your way. However, if I was in your shoes, this isn’t the path I would walk down. At least think it over tonight – if you still feel this way tomorrow, I’ll show you the shop.”

“Vander –“

“I’m serious, kid. You’re exhausted. Don’t make stupid choices tonight that you can’t take back tomorrow.”

You bite your lip – he’s right, and you hate it. Instead of admitting it, you flag the waitress down and order a drink (unfortunately, all they have is mead, which only serves to sink you lower into despair). Vander shovels steak into his mouth to keep himself from commenting, and you can’t help but appreciate the gesture. The two of you eat in silence, occasionally talking about the weather or potential books you might print. When you’re done, Vander beats you to the bill, insisting you save your money because he’s got too much of his own. The two of you have two more drinks (which you pay for) before he walks you home, letting you point out the different stars in the sky. When you reach Sevika’s step, he hugs you tightly, squeezing you just a little too hard before he lets you go inside. You hug him just a little longer than necessary, letting go several long moments after his hands loosen. He doesn’t comment; neither do you.

The house smells like booze and weed. The backdoor is open, and you can see the shadow of a figure hunched over on the step, her back to you, lit by the faint glow of a joint. For a moment, you hesitate, standing in the living room, staring at her. Your heart aches to go to her, overpowering your drunken mind to take a step forward. The floorboard creaks beneath you, and your heart begins to hammer like a jackrabbit as you freeze like a deer in headlights. Headlights that never come. She doesn’t so much as turn her head toward you; instead, the joint is lifted to her lips, and a cloud of smoke dissipates around her head.  

Shoulders sinking, you trudge up the stairs like a scolded dog. Before heading to bed, you take one last shower, knowing it’ll be your last for at least a few days until you get your living situation in order. You know Sevika’s still smoking on the porch as you curl up in bed because fifteen minutes afterwards, her footsteps echo down the hall. They stop just outside your door, your heart hammering in your chest, willing it to swing open and for her to say anything. For her to apologize or curl up in bed next to you without a word – you’d even take her shouting at you to get out; anything but this nauseous silence that hangs around the two of you like smog.

Her footsteps continue down the hall and up the stairs to her bedroom.

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

"I'm just happy that James and Lily are finally together because they deserve it and I love them both"

And that was Remus. The poet that would find the beauty in insignificant things. The kid that believed in happy endings and true love. The kind of person to be happy just because others were happy. How gorgeous was that?

The way he was smiling now made Sirius shiver. But maybe it was because he was dizzy of too much smoke.

Smoking with Remus was his new favorite thing. Not because he wanted to be cool or he actually enjoyed cigarettes. It was because of Remus. A million times Remus.

Because he got to be close to him. Because it was something intimate between them. Because Remus spoke and told Sirius things and he laughed only for him. And Remus was beautiful when he laughed.

"I love James" Sirius declared, taking a drag of his cigarette.

It was easy to love James. It was wrecking to love Remus.

"And Lily?"

Sirius shrugged, making an 'eh' sound.

Remus smiled and shook his head.

Sirius was the idiot that made Remus smile. It had always been like that. Like a bufoon making his prince laugh of how silly he was. Because the prince would never fall for the bufoon.

"I just think that James deserves the best"

"And Lily is not the best?"

Sirius let out some smoke into the night sky.

"Maybe the perfect match for him is somewhere else. Out there. James is just obsessed with Evans"

Remus shook his head "I don't think so"

Sirius looked at him expecting an explanation "Why?"

Remus bit his lip, so deliciously "Because if he's meant for someone else, he would have been over her a long time ago. His heart keeps circulating back to Lily. Over and over. They keep coming back to each other. Over and over"

How did Remus always manage to say smart things and all that came out of Sirius’s mouth was bollocks?

And Remus took a drag of his cigarette in thought. Sirius wished for a second that he was thinking about their similar story. Back to each other. Over and over. And Sirius’s heart still felt the same. It hadn't stop beating for Remus. Never.

"That's ridiculous" Sirius said because, see? He was a scared idiot who said bollocks "Evans just tosses him around like a toy and James is a masochistic who lets her. One day, yes. Another day: 'I hate you'"

Remus's eyes fixed on Sirius. That kind of look that made Sirius feel naked in front of him.

"I know the feeling" Remus whispered mostly to himself, finally looking away.

"What?"

And Sirius was aware of how Remus blushed. The shade of pink that blended well with his freckles. Sirius wanted to be able to count them all and know them by heart.

"You just don't know the feeling, Sirius" Remus cleared his throat "You've never been in love"

Sirius almost laughed. Because the feeling he had always had for Remus couldn't be anything but love. He would sacrifice himself for him. He would go to the end of the world for him.

"And you do, Moons?" Sirius asked trying to hide away his hope.

Remus was quiet for a while, he smiled to himself and spoke : "No... I just read many romance novels"

Sirius giggled. His little nerdy Moony.

"They are very descriptive about feelings and such"

Sirius tucked his head to the side. "Is fiction"

Remus shook his head.

"You are an idiot"

As long as Sirius was his idiot.

"Love?" Sirius scoffed "We are too young for that. We are meant to enjoy life and have fun" he opened his arms to emphasize "Then when we are like thirty or so we will worry about spouses and stuff like love"

He said that because 1) it was his facade, always had been. The idiot womanizer who was too cool to fall in love, and 2) Because it was true. And he wanted as much time with Remus he got before he found someone to settle in. A nice partner that would make him happy.

Sirius’s heart ached at the thought.

Sirius would end up alone. Because nobody would ever stand him. Not truly.

Remus eyes moved around Sirius thinking about what he was saying. He chuckled at the end and shook his head again.

Because Sirius was the bufoon.

"You're an idiot, Pads"

As long as he said it affectionately like that.

Sirius grinned "And you know what is my idea of fun right now?" he raised an eyebrow.

Remus swallowed.

"What can that be?" he smiled.

Sirius scooped closer. He saw Remus's chest breathing rapidly. His cheeks went more pink and his lips parted.

God he loved provoking that on Remus.

Although that was Sirius provoked in people. Desire. He knew he was good looking because of his family's rotten but gorgeous genes.

However that's all that people saw in him. A handsome boy.

And Remus was gay, so he naturally reacted. He closed his eyes waiting for the kiss.

But Remus was not in love with him. Nobody was actually prepared for the train wreck Sirius was.

The second his lips touched Remus, Sirius was doomed. He was intoxicated. He wanted to bury himself onto Remus. Melt with him. Be his and be wrecked by him. Over and over.

Fuck, Sirius was selfish. And he knew Remus didn't feel the same. And he knew someday he would want more than kissing his best friend. And Sirius shouldn't be getting more and more attached.

But he was selfish.

He kissed Remus and tried to pretend he wasn't getting weak in the knees with the mere touch on the lips. And he pretended he didn't saw stars when Remus opened his mouth for him.

And he pretended his brain wasn't whispering: "Mine, mine, mine, mine" and "Moony, Moony, Moony, Moony"

Over and over again.

[teddy06writes]

Ghost of His Lips

Tommy Shelby x fem!reader

Prompt: "Why is it whenever we see each other, you're covered in blood?"

Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, blood/bleeding, Tommy in his natural state (beaten and bloody), Reader was a nurse during the war.

Summary: As the Peaky Blinders push further and further into Billy Kimber's territory it becomes a fairly common occurrence to find a certain gangster on your front step, asking for some favor or another. You and Tommy have an unconventional relationship, to say the least.

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

Somehow, before you had even laid down for bed, you knew that it was going to be a sleepless night. It was almost as if you could feel whatever odd tension was filling the air, like you could sense that somewhere, a storm was brewing.

For hours, you lay in bed, restless, until finally you threw off the covers, certain that if you just had a cup of the right herbal tea, you'd finally be able to drift off.

Pulling your robe around yourself with a huff, you shuffled off toward the kitchen. Kettle securely heating up on the stove, you puttered around, searching for the tea Polly had gifted you after helping her with some errand or another that she swore helped with insomnia.

You were making a valiant effort of not checking the clock, to see just how late of a night it was, when there was a sure sounding knock at the door to your flat. You froze, waiting for a long moment before the knock sounded again, insistent.

There were only a few people who would dare knock at your door so late. Keeping the chain in place, you opened the door a crack, peering out into the darkness, "Christ, Tommy."

Thomas Shelby stood on your front stoop, leaning, almost casually against the door frame, a lit cigarette tucked into the corner of his mouth. "Ms. (l/n)."

"What the hell are you doing here so late?"

He took a drag of his cig, almost pondering how much he could tell you, before "Got into a bit of a scrape over in Digbeth. Can I come in?"

You eyed him wearily, before moving to unlock the door fully and let him in, "Put that damn thing out."

Tommy did as he was told, stubbing out the cigarette, and following you dutifly into your flat, just as the kettle began to sing.

"Tea, Tommy?"

In the light, you could see the bruises already beginning to flower around his eye, and as he moved toward the counter, you found yourself taking stock of the almost imperceptible changes in his stride, of the damage that might have been done.

"Do you have anything stronger?"

With a sigh, you were easily dragging down a bottle of whiskey and pouring him a generous three fingers, "Are you going to take off your coat and stay awhile, or is this just a quick in and out sort of night?"

"I wager you might not like it if I did." All the same, he began shrugging out of his overcoat, revealing the torn and bloody clothes beneath.

Yet again, you couldn't help but sigh, "Why is it whenever we see each other, you're covered in blood?"

As he reached for his glass, Tommy let out a huff that sounded suspiciously amused, "Believe me, if I could avoid it I would."

You rolled your eyes good naturedly, already rolling up the sleeves of your robe, "I suppose then the better question is whether it is your blood, or someone else's."

"Mine, mostly, I'm afraid."

Reaching for your medical kit, you let out a wince, "Of course it is."

You worked quietly and efficiently, something that Tommy appreciated more than he could ever put into words. There was something calming about the way that you didn't balk at any of the injuries he had presented to you, as if nothing could surprise or shock you now.

A part of him felt guilty for appearing on your doorstep at all hours, disrupting whatever peace you had made for yourself, and yet he couldn't help but return. He would never admit it, but there was no one in the whole of the city who he would rather see him at moments like this.

Watching at you methodically pressed a pad of bandages to his side, hiding the neat line of stitches that hide beneath, Tommy couldn't help but let his mind drift.

What would it have been like, if you hadn't been stationed on that hospital ship during the war? If he'd been brought before you, freshly dragged from the dirt and the mud that had threatened to suffocate him? If your paths had crossed just once?

"You're not there anymore, soldier."

Your firm, kind voice pulled him from his thoughts and he found you leaning close, two fingers tucked into the pulse point just below his jaw, where his heart suddenly hammered.

Gently, he grasped at your wrist, and miraculously, the fingers at his neck turned into a hand cupping his cheek. He could see the distance hiding behind your own eyes, the rigidity in your posture.

"Neither are you."

For a long moment, you were both frozen there, lost in the gentleness that neither of you had known in so long. Almost experimentally, you brushed a thumb across his cheek, wiping away some invisible tear.

He leaned into the touch, eyes half lidded as he turned, lips brushing against the heel of your hand. Not quite a kiss, but something so close, so strangely intimate that in that moment you couldn't be sure it wasn't a mere dream.

Tommy looked up at you, at the unreadable expression on your face, and then allowed his gaze to drop to your lips, if only for a moment. For a split second, you could've sworn there was gravity building between you, pulling you closer to him.

And then the spell broke, and Tommy was pulling away, knocking back the remains of his whiskey, and standing, clearing his throat, "Well, I should be going. Thank you, for your hospitality."

You muttered something in response, and then he was gone, disappearing back into the night; leaving you standing in your kitchen, the ghost of his lips still whispering across your palm.

~~

Enjoy this fic? Help me buy textbooks :)

[vespidclan]

There's something i don't understand, and while i waited to see, it seems like the comic isn't gonna explain it

How did Snake understand any of that digital stuff at all, when the cats don'teven know whatcars are? She just saw what looks like a floating wall painting of her

Did 404 "mentally" blast her with the knowledge of human technology and what coding is when she showed her her sprite? By messing with the coding of her memory/knowledge ?

Did seeing her sprite unlock a sort of self awareness that immediately made her understood what she was, because the possibility of being aware is always accessible dur to her literally being code?

Hope i don't sound accusatory or mean, tone is hard through text ^^". Genuine question from being eager about learning lore and worldbuilding and trying to understand

Making a "realise it's all a video game" story with characters/species who don't even know what basic technology is seems really tough, and I'm really curious on how you made it work 👀

Also, how much does snake know? Does she think only her clan is fake coding, and the rest of the world is normal. Or does she know that her kithood is made up memories and the entire world is just as fake?

This is a very good question!!! I’ve had to go through a similar thought process with the whole “how would cats understand the concept of being in a game?” and I got it down to this;

Cats in real life don’t have a sense of self, but cats in warrior cats (and in Clangen overall) do, this helps me give them ‘human’ personalities that we can relate and understand to. And while they don’t know things like coding, files, and anything technical, they understand that there are things they cannot ever understand.

I take inspiration from H. P. Lovecraft’s work, and this excerpt from The Call Of Cthulhu perfectly sums up what I’m trying to explain

404 doesn’t just give Snake a blank, lifeless reflection of what she truly is; within the morse code, she tells her something that she shouldn’t know. Something that is beyond her level of understanding as both a cat and as a living organism, and along with that was proof of it all—the subliminal incarnation of herself.

If you were to explain to a cat in the warriors series about programming and compare it to their own way of living, they would find it so bizarre that they would see it as almost otherworldy and nonsensical. Similar to how there are some concepts within our reality that we cannot fathom; things like these are ideas that shouldn’t be found and don’t need to be found in our lifetime. Even if it was something familiar to us like in this sense, being in a simulation as digital characters, it would still be something completely unbelievable to imagine

The very moment Snakevalley was told the truth, through lines of numbers and script, from the bare autonomy that builds up her world and existence, that everything she breathes in was never organic, it shattered her.

Again, thank you for this really great question! I love answering stuff like these, really glad I’m able to explain a little bit on my thought process of how things work :D

[thewritetofreespeech]

Oh! Could I please ask a pre-relationship fem reader comforting a crying sad Choso that feels he missed out on so much (they both have feelings for eachother and aren't sure that the other has).

You weren’t sure if you were dreaming or not when you first heard noises. The sounds was soft, yet some how urgent.

You sit up from your makeshift bed in the rumble of the city. Being on the run, you all had to make due with whatever you could find. You tried to make a joke about ‘urban camping’ when you found this spot, but no one seemed interested in jokes at the moment.

You noticed that Yuji was still asleep. The exhaustion of everything that had happened seemed to finally settle in and he was out cold. It was Choso who was missing.

Getting up, you head out the crumbled door frame to investigate the noise. You didn’t have to go far as you notice Choso was there. His shoulders shaking as he was obviously crying. “Choso?”

The half-curse immediately stopped. Sniffling once as he wiped his face with his sleeve. “You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I know.” Big day and all that tomorrow. Every day was a big day when your life was on the line.  But, “I heard you and wanted to see if you were ok.”

“I’m fine.” Even as he said that, Choso pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. Looking painfully small for someone usually so tall and powerful.

“I think you’re just saying that. You can talk to me you know. I….” You want to say that you care about him but felt that that would put just more pressure on him. “I’m always here if you need me.”

Choso glanced at you and released his hold on his legs a little. “I miss my brothers.” He confessed. Which surprised you.

It didn’t surprise you that he missed them. Choso seemed to take his role as a ‘big brother’ very seriously. Even adopting Yuji despite his protests. It made sense that he was grieving and missed them. “They’ll never be able to see this.”

You look out over the rumble. “Oh yeah…such a waste…”

“No. You don’t get it. They’ll never be able to see what it was. What it will be. They’ll never be able to see the sky, or feel the grass. I spent so long locked away and now….” Choso scrubbed his face with his hands as he started to cry again. “Everything I’ve missed…..everything they’ll never get to see…”

You weren’t sure if it was the right thing to do or not, but you scoot closer to Choso and wrap your arms around him in a hug. “You haven’t missed everything. There is still a lot of the world to see. Places to go. Things to try. When this is over we can do it together. We can do it for them too.”

Choso sniffed and looked at you from your shoulder. “You would do that for them?”

“Of course.” You’re too shy to tell Choso that you were doing it for him, but it was a nice thought that it would be for his brothers. You couldn’t take them with you, but Choso could carry his brothers in his heart. And the two of you could go together and see the world for them.

He seemed to calm down a little and wrapped his arms back around you. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. There is still a very good chance we’ll all be dead by Sunday.”

“You can’t ever have anything nice, can you?”

You laugh at Choso’s remark and let him go. You then tell him to go get some rest and you would keep watch the rest of the night. You were up now anyway. He seemed to want to protest, or stay, but Choso eventually dusted himself off and went to get some sleep next to Yuji.

You spent the rest of the evening looking at the stars. Thinking of all the things you and Choso could do when this was all over. If you made it past Sunday.

[ominous-faechild]

CHARACTER INTRO:

FAERIE'S DAWN

SPÉIR “SKY” FAE

[rolling his eyes, slightly sarcastically) “Yes, I'm sure you're very important... but, anyways—”

(brokenly) “If I can't even protect her... then what good am I even for?” - Spéir “Sky” Fae

One of the many fae born in the early days of the Reborn World, Sky woke up in a world of chaos and magic. The Faewildes permeated all of what would have otherwise been reality, leaving the world nothing but madness.

This—a rapidly, ever-changing world of danger and subjugation—is the world that Sky grew up in.

In his early years, Sky was like most fae. He awoke in the midst of his domain, then wandered through the Faewildes aimlessly. What else was he to do, with no family or ties?

Then he ran into another faerie like him, much younger and so much more oblivious of the ways of the world and Faewildes. So he took her under his wing.

(Metaphorically speaking, of course.)

Together, they came up with their own names: Spéir (“Sky”) and Scamall (“Cloud”). Just like their domains.

And then they wandered into an archfaerie's dominion.

Where they were subjugated for years.

Until the Archfae made a terrible decision, bringing down the wrath of the God of The Faewildes Themself.

The entire dominion was destroyed, the Archfae killed, and the faeries under their will were freed.

Including Sky and Cloud.

Freedom

Unbound to an archfaerie, Sky and Cloud have been wandering from dominion to dominion as they try to find a place to call home.

Without an archfaerie's assistance, the pair was forced to once again scrounge for food and shelter amongst the ever-changing Faewildes.

... which they now knew to be Talamhdé, “God's Land”.

The soul and body of the God of The Faewildes Themself.

Sky and Cloud have spent the years since surviving the Wildes, weaving between archfaerie dominions, and praying to The Faewildes Themself for protection, guidance, and mercy.

... although Sky has never been that big of a fan of Them himself.

After all, They had never meant to save the two—They were just paying the Archfae back for their crimes against Them.

No, Sky simply paid The Faewildes Themself the same respect he pretended to pay archfae.

It was Cloud who thought they owed Them anything.

Magic & Combat

Sky is a celestial faerie: a faerie of the heavens.

He draws his power from the sky, the weather, and seasons.

Because of this, Sky is able to draw essence and use magic from a vast variety of domains: darkness at night, light during the day, cold during winters (or mornings), heat during summers (or midday), and so much more.

Still, Sky draws the most energy from his favorite domain: air.

Sky's versatile domain grants him an incredibly powerful and diverse array of powers, though he's hardly aware of his potential in combat. Still—archfae are able to see him for the threat he is, and most often ingratiate themselves to him for a potential ally in the future...

... or for someone to backstab when he has a lot more to give.

Sky is aware of his variable powers, but views it as a weakness: his strengths vary based on his environment and The Faewildes Themselves. (Making Them his biggest enemy yet, forcibly contorting him into whatever role They see fit for him at all times.) Because of this, a majority of his practice has gone into air, shadow, and light magic, which he can use a majority of the time.

Outside of combat, Sky has learned how to reinforce his will and, more questionably, how to reliably break the wills of fiends as well as other fae... although he's largely hidden that fact from Cloud.

Within combat, Sky most often dissolves into one of his elements to avoid attacks, then solidifies or controls them around his enemy(ies) offensively. He's able to use his air magic to lighten himself, allowing him incredible speed and reaction times.

Despite his incredible potential in combat, Sky has largely avoided it for Cloud's sake. So long as he's fighting, she's left unprotected. And without him...

Well.

Sky doesn't know what he'd do without her.

(SKY AND CLOUD CONSIDER THEMSELVES SIBLINGS. PLEASE DO NOT SHIP THEM!!!)

Appearance

As a faerie and shapeshifter, Sky can technically take on any form he wants. However, he most often tends to stay in the form of a 6'3 (109.5cm), male air-aligned faerie.

Sky physically appears to be in his early twenties, but the Faewildes' constant space-time distortions and inconsistent rules make it impossible to know how long he's truly lived. Still, when the time he's experienced is translated to our perception of years, Sky is approximately 24 years old.

Due to his fluctuating domain, Sky's appearance varies with the time of day, season, and weather. However, he always has a lithe build; long and sharp features; long, white hair; and two sets of long, feathered fae-tipped ears.

At night, Sky's skin is often midnight blue, with patches of purples, pinks, and oranges (like galaxies) and countless pale, star-like freckles.

During the day, Sky's skin often matches the vibrant blue of the sky.

Between night and day, at dawn and dusk, Sky's form similarly changes to match the changing colors of the sky. His skin will take on a gradient with the hues of the sky, while his otherwise-white hair will change to reflect the colors of the clouds.

His form adapts to the season and weather—like taking on a pale, near-pure white appearance during a blizzard—but most often aligns with what's described above.

Although he refrains from allowing his form the freedom it desires in order to conserve essence, Sky is most comfortable when he allows himself to levitate and his hair to flow like wind.

Personality & Motives

Sky is harsh, practical, and uptight. He often acts detached from others and their emotions, focusing solely on logic and the reality he sees before him.

Although he's loathe to admit it, Sky considers himself a cruel person who solely looks out for himself and Cloud. The world—and especially archfae and the Faewildes Itself—are a cold and uncaring place that would eat them up without a second thought.

So he's forced to disregard everything else for his and Cloud's sake.

What he does doesn't matter.

Not so long as they're safe.

Cloud will forgive him eventually—that was just who she was.

So he'll do whatever—everything—it takes to take care of the both of them.

Even if he'd really, truly prefer to not.

(Unless... he does want to? He doesn't think so. But it's easier to not think about it. Easier to tell himself he was still a good fae deep, deep down...

... that he wasn't like everyone else.)

Name

Despite being referred to as Sky by the story, the celestial faerie actually goes by the name “Spéir”, which is Irish for “sky”.

I chose to call him by the translation—Sky—to make the literality of his name very apparent. Like most early fae, Spéir was born to no parents, and so had to choose his own name. Similarly, his name was chosen based off of his domain “because it was easy” to do so.

Still, over the course of Faerie's Dawn, Spéir will eventually pick out a new name for himself. One that fits him better than “Spéir” or “Sky” ever did.

Theme Song

Keep what can be kept And heave to see which one will kneel I've been told to wait But why should there be silence Dawning pretty laces Weaving capes of gold And framing muffled faces I can be different I can't be puppeted!

“Don't let the door hit you on your way out.”

So... what do you guys think of Sky?

And where do you think his character is headed in the story? 😉

Faerie's Dawn fanclub:

@honeybewrites @the-golden-comet @illarian-rambling @ashirisu @urnumber1star

@the-letterbox-archives @48lexr @aalinaaaaaa @thecomfywriter @an-indecisive-nerd

@seastarblue @rae-butter @teamarine777 @caffeinated-starsailor @oliolioxenfreewrites

@corinneglass @thebookishkiwi @storyteller-kara @themongosianhorse @theburningeyeofdawn

@notyourlocalworm @write-with-will @mildlybizarrecorvid @forgottenvalor @huewrite

@vesanal @differentnighttale @plip-plap-plop @olliedoesthings @pupculture

@princessuncertain @mythicalmagical-monkeyman @i-do-anything-but-write @a-zendrial

@real-fragments @lunauphternal @sullymarlowe @aalinaaaaaa @yourpenpaldee (ask and ye shall be added)

dividers from @mypixeldiary and @saradika

[lucalicatteart]

A new sculpture! Finally... I feel like I never sculpt anymore since I'm always sick or have some 500 other things going on or projects to finish, but I'm trying to schedule time to do it more often this year hopefully..! Just a generic fantasy creature as usual, but did try making the eyes a little more sparkly this time.. hrmm..

[tittyinfinity]

contemplating deleting my blog soon I might make a new blog but idk

[artanogon]

thinking more about being trans