#and alistair with a paper cup

[leadandblood]

[bountyhaunter]

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Daiyu's house PARTIES: Alistair @deathsplaything, Emilio @mortemoppetere, Vic @natusvincere, Zane & Daiyu @bountyhaunter SUMMARY: A conspiracy meets to plan an ambush. CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A

She had never had this many people in her house. Scratch that: Daiyu had never had people in her house, ever. Not this one, anyway, this small cabin that she’d been able to rent through hunter connections and had been living in for about half a year. It was kind of overwhelming, if she was honest, but she never was to herself and so she didn’t pay it any mind. 

She returned to the living room with a stack of mismatched cups and a bottle of soda, placing them on the table where a few other key ingredients for a strategy meeting already resided. A package of grocery store chocolate chip cookies and a bowl of potato chips, for one, and then all the bits and bobs of paper like the blueprints and guard schedules Alistair had provided. She looked around the strange combination of people — from Emilio to Vic (who she’d just thought a very sweet suburban mom up until recently) to a guy named Zane (whoever that was) to Alistair. Brutus and Nugget were hopefully entertaining each other in corner. She’d be very sad if they didn’t get on.

“Alright,” she said, ignoring the cups and soda now that she’d placed them on the table. These people were capable of pouring themselves a drink and she wasn’t very good at hosting, anyway. To the dismay of her father — but well, that wouldn’t be the main thing that’d bother him about this ordeal. “Where were we? Us …” She gestured at Alistair and herself. “On the inside. We’ll make sure there’s not a lot of peeps on schedule.” Daiyu tucked her legs underneath herself as she got comfortable on the floor. She didn’t have enough chairs. She barely had enough forks for one person. “Whatever. Getting in’s not the issue.” She was down to brush over those details, because something else was nagging at her. Daiyu wasn’t very good at boring planning details. She pulled a messy list of captives toward her. She’d worked on that over the past week. “What do we do about the people?”

—

Tension turned his body into a coiled spring, ready to leap up at the slightest irritation. Emilio stood in the kitchen with his back against the wall, eyes darting periodically between Alistair and the woman he didn’t know with the occasional uncertain glance towards Daiyu. The only person in this room he trusted fully was the one he’d brought himself, and he was already feeling a little guilty for dragging Zane along. 

He looked to the table, to the blueprints and papers and things he probably wouldn’t understand. This level of planning was new to Emilio. Most of the time, his plans consisted of ‘go in, kill what needs killing, try not to die.’ (Except for the ones that omitted the last point — he tried not to let himself think of those for the moment.) This kind of strategizing was foreign to him. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing here. Part of him wanted to protest, wanted to point out that it wasn’t necessary for the blade to know what the hand was planning. Point him in the direction where he needed to slice, and he’d do it. Everything else seemed wasted on him. 

But… he wasn’t sure he trusted any of them, even Daiyu, enough not to know the plan. If he was going to put Zane’s stupid life on the line, he was going to make sure the plan was a decent one. He owed the vampire that, at least. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a flask and took a swig, ignoring the soda and snacks Daiyu had set out. This was more his style. “Case by case, I think,” he piped in, glancing at the list Daiyu had provided. “Some of them might not be the kind we want to put back into the world.” But Emilio wouldn’t leave anyone locked up. A quick death was kinder, he thought; he’d give them that. It was what he’d want for himself, when the time came. “Okay. So, we need to… look into this. Right? See why they were brought in, decide what to do with who. We don’t want to send serial killers loose on the town.”

—

It had taken a lot from Alistair to leave Tommy at the apartment to come to this meeting. The two had become dependent on each other since the loss of Melody and both of their worlds crumbled from under them. The only thing that propelled Alistair forward on this mission was that his life was on the line, and there was no way they would leave Tommy alone. They owed everything they could to make this out alive. And if that meant going against The Good Neighbors and Winnifred herself? Then so be it. Brutus had been playing with Nugget in the corner, but Alistair gave the command, and Brutus ceased his playtime and made his way over to his owner, eager to work. 

A case-by-case basis was necessary. Alistair remembered a lot of the names that went into those cages and remembered the atrocities that were committed. “Winnifred has a better-kept log that has names, dates of imprisonment, and reasoning,” Alistair spoke up, arms crossed over their chest as they stared blankly forward. “Daiyu and I could call her to the keep to discuss overcrowding,” Alistair suggested, knowing that the keep was getting seriously overcrowded. It was something they’d have to talk about eventually, whether Winnifred wanted to or not. “She’d bring her book with her and make decisions for ‘the good of the town.’ or whatever she tells herself.” 

“Listen, this mission is not going to be easy,” Alistair warned, hand gripping around the hold of Brutus’s harness. “People are going to get hurt, people are going to die. Not everyone you release will be happy to see you.” Alistair knew from experience how wily they could be. They knew they had to prepare for the worst, a spell that they’d already begun to prepare for. Alistair was going to die there, they knew they were. But they didn’t want anyone else to get killed along with them. If they could warn them of the dangers, they’d at least have done their part.

__

Vic had turned back home three times before she finally convinced herself to join this meeting.  This was why she’d joined the Good Neighbors in the first place, right?  To protect the vampires she’d suspected were being targeted and start the path toward righting the wrongs of her past.  Sure, she may have gotten a little distracted by the delicious little taste of neighborhood power joining the group had provided her (she’d made more citizen’s arrests in the last month than probably her entire time in Wicked’s Rest, but littering was down a good 10%). But after finally overhearing the truth from Alistair and Daiyu a few days ago, it felt like something substantial was finally about to happen.

As she sat straight-backed in the chair that had been offered to her, pursing her lips at the menu offered to them, a punch of guilt invaded her stomach, scolding her for even thinking of freeing monsters from their cages.  She had known for nearly 300 years that they deserved to die, and if she were in this meeting three years earlier, she would have elected to kill them all on sight.  What kind of world was she leaving for Rosie-... for humanity… if she let monsters like herself walk free?  But then her mind flipped again, to all the work she’d done to be better, to all the ‘monsters’ that had proved her wrong… Why couldn’t this have been easier?

“Why do we get to decide which of them deserves death?” Vic chirped from her corner, the first thing she’d uttered the whole meeting.  “Is that not just as reprehensible as what Winnifred is doing?  Who’s deciding morality here?”

__

Zane had rarely felt as out of place as he did here, working very hard to piece together the bits of information Emilio had provided with the people in the room and the words they were exchanging. It probably didn’t help that he’d chosen to stand, wanting to fade into the background with his ill-defined role here but realizing it probably made him look like Emilio’s bodyguard or something equally silly. How the slayer would have seethed at that notion. Moving to sit now seemed worse but he did uncross his arms, trying to match names and what they were to the faces in the room. 

It didn’t take long for the conversation to turn grim - who gets to live. He’d had this conversation with Emilio, about how locking up things like Zane wasn’t a viable option. Not humane, either, especially for something that would practically live forever. It still made his skin crawl but the naivety he’d possessed last year existed no more, gone up in flames when that barn did. “Someone has to do it,” he found himself speaking up, not sure how much of it was his own opinion and how much was simply support for Emilio, which seemed his only true role here. “At least this way it’s… informed.” Was he even supposed to take part in the conversation? Well, too late now. 

—

This was why she shouldn’t get caught up in affairs. Not human affairs, not supernatural affairs — none. Daiyu functioned best on her own. If she had never joined up, she would have never known about this and she would have been able to spend this night watching Buffy. But here she was. Hosting the revolution for a place that should perhaps not be overthrown, hearing people talk about what she preferred to avoid. Morals. She tended to let herself be led by the bounty board, not by what felt good.

She started stuffing a cookie into her mouth so she had an excuse not to talk (which was nonsensical, considering she talked with a full mouth all the time) and felt herself grow agitated. “Yeah, we could totally get the book off her, no doubt,” she said, “Whatever, but — even those are — you know.” Vic was making good points. All of them were. She wanted to slam her head into the table.

“Way I see it, Winnifred isn’t … she’s just a human. Trying to do what she reckons is best, but she doesn’t … she’s clueless, yeah?” She glanced at Emilio. “Cortez and I, we’re hunters. We know this shit. We’ve been raised for this. We know what’s a risk, what’s not.  What beast to take out in the woods and which to let run its course, ya know? So it’s the same as that. Just … more …” She wiped a crumb off the table. “Premeditated. Whatever. Most important is that it ends here. And yeah, for many that’s gonna mean it ends-ends.” Daiyu’s job was to figure out who in town should be targeted, hadn’t it? She knew in some cases why some of the prisoners had been put there. She’d made that judgment. None of them were innocent. (None of them at this table were either. Well, maybe Zane and Vic, she wasn’t sure.) “I’ll make sure there’s plenty of weapons around for when push comes to shove.”

—

Zane had his back, though Emilio wondered how much of what he was saying was what he really believed and how much came from his perception that he still owed Emilio for what happened in that barn a year ago now. He didn’t bring Zane along to have a yes man in his corner, didn’t want someone who would agree with everything he said. He needed Zane for the same reason he needed Teddy, or Wynne, or Xó: because sometimes, Emilio led with something that wasn’t his head. Sometimes, the past got muddled in with the present, and nothing was quite right. If he was making the wrong choice here, he needed someone to tell him that. He needed it to be someone he trusted, someone who understood him. He had to hope that Zane was speaking his mind and not saying what he thought Emilio wanted to hear. He spared the vampire a quick glance, hoping to communicate all of this in a simple look. It was a lot of pressure to put on an expression that really wasn’t much different than his usual.

He glanced to the necromancer, scoffing quietly. “I don’t think anyone here walked in that door thinking this would be easy,” he replied flatly, crossing his arms over his chest. “If it were easy, we wouldn’t need this meeting.” This was going to be rough. It was going to be hard and it was going to be dangerous and people were probably going to die. People at this table were probably going to die. Emilio felt a surge of guilt for the fact that he hadn’t shared his plan to participate in this with any of the important people in his life. If he died doing this, none of them would know until after. They’d probably be upset about that. 

He nodded as Daiyu spoke, glancing around the table. “Look, I think… These people got into this shit thinking they were doing something good.” He let his eyes go from Daiyu to the clean-cut looking woman beside her to the necromancer. Maybe all of them had gotten into the Good Neighbors with good intentions, and maybe they hadn’t. Emilio wasn’t sure it mattered. What mattered more was their intentions now. “Some of the people locked up there are bad. There’s no denying that. But some of them aren’t. Some of them are just people who have made mistakes, maybe, and they can learn from this. And the ones who can’t…” He trailed off, clenching his jaw. “I would rather die,” he said simply. “If I had to choose between being locked away for as long as these people live or dying for what I’ve done, I would rather die. It’s better. It’s faster for them. It’s safer for everyone else. It’s better. So this is what I’m doing. If someone has a problem with it, you can try to stop me, but something tells me we’re all here because we’re on the same page, yes? So we figure out who gets what, and we figure out how to give it to them. That’s what we do. Anyone who wants to leave can leave, but I’m all in.”

—

When it came to killing, Alistair was no saint. They’d done it before, they’d probably do it again. They’d done it for the sake of saving Tommy, they’d done it to save countless others. But they’d never killed someone without someone else benefitting from it. They’d never killed on a scale such as this. And that’s what they were doing, wasn’t it? All those people who couldn’t be set free were going to die. It caused Alistair to shift their weight from foot to foot, head downcast as they thought about the implications of taking more lives. They wanted no part of it anymore. Still, if it had to be done to keep people safe, then the benefits outweighed the costs in their minds. 

“There are alarms.” Alistair piped up, looking through Brutus’s eyes to point in the correct placements. “Once when the front gate is breached, once when the button on the cages is hit.” Alistair pointed to the center control panel with a frown. “If you want to set them all free, that’s where you want to go.” He tapped his finger against the paper before removing it.

Alistair pulled out a set of keys that Daiyu had. “This one opens cages.” They explained, pulling out a rather large key and laying it on the table, then pulling out a passkey. “That’ll get you in the building without detection. We’ve made sure that security is lighter that day by putting ourselves on duty.” Alistair put the pass key down on the table alongside the large ring of keys. “Daiyu and I will stick together, so we don’t need both of us to have this on us.” 

“As for who lives and who dies, we’ll deal with that when the time comes when we have that book from Winnifred. What are we going to do about her?” They implored, knowing that Winnifred would go down kicking and screaming if it came to it. “She’s a human, but she’s a human that thinks what she’s doing is justified and within reason.” 

__

Vic had known some of them were hunters before she arrived.  Of course there’d be hunters in a situation like this.  For years, hunters were probably the people she felt most comfortable with, as long as her bracelet was functioning properly.  She was practically surrounded by them, whether at her old bartending job where they frequented or her more nefarious meetings where she was trading information about vampires for cash.  But now, with everything between Rosie and her change of heart, she found herself actively avoiding them.  She felt herself toying with the cloaking bracelet as they argued.  

As Emilio spoke, Vic couldn’t deny the familiar feeling that fluttered through her stomach, the one she felt after she was presumably betrayed by her first love, and again after she was sired.  “I’m still not comfortable with us being so egotistical as to think we get to be the deciding factor, but…”  People were still important.  Humanity was still important, as much as it sucked.  There had to be a nuance between the belief that all vampires were monsters and all vampires were saints.  Her sire was no saint.  Neither was she.  She sighed before she continued.  “It seems with the time crunch, it’s our only option.”  She wasn’t happy with it, because morality in general felt so gray these days, but she couldn’t sit by and watch them all be prisoners.  Not with everything she knew now.

The group that they had gathered seemed valuable, and willing to work together, and for a moment, she doubted her place amongst them.  Would she be much help?  “There won’t be much use in us trying to get through to her”, Vic said.  She was the newest member of the group, the one who knew Winnifred the least, but she knew more than her fair share about having the wrong idea about supernaturals and using it to try to rid them of the world.  “Perhaps she needs a taste of her own medicine.  At least until we figure out what to do with the others.”

__

It would be even more difficult when the time came. This discussion was one thing, even looking over names on paper might be easy but when the time came… Zane wondered briefly if rehabilitation was an option. Where was the line? For humans, those who would eventually perish during a life sentence, there were cases of atrocities bad enough that redemption wasn’t in the cards, would never be on the cards. Was this scenario that much different? They did lack a judge and jury but if murder, especially repeat offenses, meant a life sentence, wasn’t that what they were executing in a way? At least for the ones like him, hadn’t they already used up all their allotted time and simply cheated death? The brief ethics course in nursing school hadn’t exactly prepared him for this. 

Emilio was staring him down, face unreadable as always. Did he not want him to talk? Or maybe not agree? Who knew, honestly. At least it seemed settled that not everyone would be released into the wild from their prison, the older man with the dog moving on to plans that made Zane feel eerily like this was a heist movie. The odds for an end scene showing how they pulled everything off smoothly with no casualties didn’t feel great, though. “What are we dealing with in terms of the people… running this? Are they all… human?” Zane found himself asking as they discussed the fate of the ring leader - it was hypocritical in some ways but the idea of harming humans didn’t sit well with him at all. It had been over a year but he still felt more of a kinship with them than his fellow undead. 

—

All of this went against all Daiyu had made herself know for the past years. She was a bounty hunter, plain and simple. The Good Neighbors had been a gig, a lucrative one at that — but she’d joined with that stupid notion of doing something good and it seemed she hadn’t given up on that. “We don’t touch that button, then. The one that opens everything at once. That’s disaster.” She looked at the keys, then at the would-be intruders. “Just get in with those, don’t raise any fucking alarms, and the first bit should be smooth. It’s when start opening the cages that we should be more alert.”

She took her list back. It had names, species, some transgressions on it. It wasn’t Winnifred’s color coded book, but it was something. “Let’s get through some, at fucking least. We’re here now.” She didn’t want many more of these meetings. Daiyu splayed it on the table, pointed at the name Mack Ross. “Like, I can tell you now what and how. She killed a buncha people, isn’t in control, which is …” She made a motion. “Ludacris, ‘cause it’s Mack fucking Ross. Then, Johnny no surname, he’s a vampire. You know, I think he’s alright, he loves Snicker Snackers, he could totally do an animal based diet, maybe.” She pointed to another name, “Svetlana, serial student killer. Stake.” Daiyu motioned staking a vampire, wooshing sound and all. She pointed at another name. “Chang, dunno his first name. Kept the bones of all his kills after he ate ‘em whole. Probs best to not release him into the world again.”

To speak about killing undead and shapeshifters was something she did with an eerie ease, as it was who she was brought up to be. Later that night, she’d reflect on her lackadaisical attitude with distaste, but for now it was something to hold onto. She felt something stir in her stomach at the mention of Winnifred, though, and her eyes moved to Emilio. Hunters were supposed to protect humans. Winnifred had tried to do the same, foolishly and cruelly, but she had. “We destroy the keep. We make sure they don’t make one again. And yeah, all human. Or like, human with some zest, like Al and I.” She wasn’t going to kill them. “So yeah. We destroy their means and that’s that.”

—

“Agreed,” Emilio said, nodding towards Daiyu. “Setting everyone free at once would be a bloodbath.” The more violent offenders would kill each other, the ones offended by the time they’d lost behind bars would kill anyone who got close. And that was to say nothing of the ones who might just be hungry. That wasn’t the sort of chaos any of them could afford. They needed to do it slowly. It would be risky, sure, but… less risky than setting loose a whole slew of problems. “Whose cage gets opened first, then?” The ones with the best shot of actually getting out would be the ones freed in the very beginning. But beyond that… “Any prisoners who might help us out? Without killing any of us, ideally.” His eyes darted towards Alistair and Daiyu, who’d both had some kind of a hand in the… acquisitions. 

Daiyu, at least, seemed to be on the same page. She was already pointing to her book, and Emilio felt a little uneasy at the first name she pointed out. Mack Ross. Kaden and Monty were both fond of her, weren’t they? “We should spring her early on.” He pointed to Mack’s name. “At the beginning.” He offered no explanation as to why. “Johnny no-name, too. Get the ones out who we think will need the… least amount of help staying honest. The ones we know we’re going to kill, we should get to last. That way if something happens and we can’t get to everyone…” At least they could free the ones who needed freeing before going out in a blaze of glory. He let the thought hang unfinished. Looking at the list, he pointed at another name. “That’s my client’s friend. We free her early, too.” After all, that was why he’d gotten dragged into this whole mess to begin with.

Winnifred, though… That was more complicated. He met Daiyu’s eye, then glanced to Zane. Did it matter if a human didn’t think they were doing harm, as long as harm was done? How much did good intentions matter, in a case like this? Emilio had to believe they meant something. After all the bad shit he’d done with good intentions, he wasn’t sure he was the best one to judge. “We don’t have to kill any of them.” But would he stop any of the prisoners, if they tried? He wasn’t sure. “We destroy the place,” he agreed. “How… detailed are their records? We should destroy those, too. Make it impossible for them to start up again next week or something.”

—

Staying silent as the others deliberated who lived and who died, it was like he was healing people all over again. The wellbeing and life for one, was the only way to help another. Some of the people who were locked up in those cages were less monsters than Alistair was, and they knew it. They stayed silent as they deliberated, then perked up at the name of Mack Ross. “Yes, definitely free Mack,” Alistair spoke up finally, knowing that she was a sweet girl who had already been through enough. What she did to land her in the Good Neighbor’s in the first place be damned. They, like Emilio, also offered no further comment. 

“I’m all for destroying the place.” They muttered, knowing that their opinion on matters held little sway. “Winnifred will fight for this place, it’s her baby, it’s been her sole purpose for so long,” Alistair explained, tapping a finger against their other arm as they thought. “The records are kept here,” Alistair spoke, tapping the map to a back room. “It’s got fireproofing, so you’ll need to go in there first.” Alistair frowned, realizing the problem with that. “Only Winnifred has access to that room, not even I can get in there.” 

Winnifred had good intentions, but she didn’t know what the real world was really like. She saw what she wanted to see, and turned a blind eye to all the rest that made the rosy picture anything else. They’d learned that after being close to her after all these years. “There will be after-effects of this we should think about as well. Just because the keep is gone doesn’t mean they won’t try to reform somehow. People will always find a way. The top hitters are the ones you’ll want to keep an eye on, like Winnifred if you decide to leave her in the ruins of her keep.”

__

Vic shifted in her seat, uncomfortable as the names down the list were being read.  None of them sounded familiar, even the first one that Daiyu seemed to imply would be well known, but the talk surrounding them didn’t make her any less uncomfortable.  What had kept her from the same fate as these vampires?  What if they were freshly sired, or hadn’t had a chance to learn yet?  What if an old, grumpy bitch of a vampire had betrayed her own kind and caused them on a path of destruction, somehow?  She stood up from her chair suddenly, crossing her arms over her chest.  “You don’t have to speak of this so crassly.  It’s almost as if you’ll enjoy killing them.  If that’s the case, you’re no better than them.”

She was no better than her old self, if she was allowing this to happen.  Perhaps she could find a way to rescue those they were intending to harm.  She could buy a property in the outskirts of town, far away from Rosie, and teach them to be less monstrous, somehow.  It felt wholly cruel to take someone’s second chance away.  What would these people say about her if she had found herself in the keep? Their words sounded muffled around her as she concocted it. Victoria Larsson, reformed vampire hater and only feeds from what she calls ‘ethically sourced’.  Currently brainwashing a slayer child.  Monster. Stake. 

She sat back down with a huff.  “So our moral code includes deciding that some prisoners die for their crimes, but all of the people who locked them up just get to roam free with some property damage?  Alistair is right.  They’re just going to find a way to do this again.  Maybe with more permanent consequences, as a backlash to our success.  Letting them walk without consequence would be as foolish as not doing anything at all.

__

The one with the notes, Daiyu, started moving down the list in a way that so clearly established her as a hunter. It was crass but not necessarily… wrong. There seemed to be a distinction made between pure malevolence and mistakes, a lack of control. Zane felt relief, realized that if his own transgressions were being judged, he would have stood a chance at this proposed reform. “Is it safe to assume no one’s been… feeding them?” he wondered as Emilio suggested letting the previously captive help. “Because I can… provide blood.” He didn’t offer any explanation as to how - skimming from the hospital seemed like a necessary evil in this scenario. 

—--

Daiyu felt her stomach sink as Vic chastised her, eyes blazing as she looked at her, “You don’t know shit about shit, lady,” she bit, before trying to turn to other matters. A headache was forming behind her eyes and she looked at the list before pulling it towards her again. With a pen she found somewhere on the table she added some asterisks next to names they’d discussed and X’s next to others. “This isn’t about being better or worse than ‘em, it’s about ending it. So. What the fuck do you suggest we do about the rest of the good neighbors? Should we punish ‘em all? Hang ‘em from their thumbs or something? What about you? Me? Alistair? Should we throw ourselves under the rubble to repent?” She was mostly talking to Vic now, even if she spoke to all of them. They were humans. Daiyu might not really keep to a code, but hurting humans? You didn’t do that. That was the main hunter rule. 

She tried to refocus. “The cages are split in different rooms. We can make a plan, an order of operations. I can … Alistair and I can list who seem aggressive.” Daiyu considered suggesting they just kill them all, but that was too crass, even for her. “We just light all the shit on fire. Getting a flamethrower shouldn’t be hard.” She would like to have one on hand, anyway, for totally legal reasons. 

She glanced at Zane. “Sometimes. When there’s stuff. I give them some of the … leftovers from my regular hunts sometimes. But if you’ve got proper shit, sure. Smuggling stuff in isn’t too hard.” Getting it out was what was harder. “Might be better if the vamps aren’t starved. Can you get brains too?”

—

“I don’t think trying to keep serial killers off the streets makes us shitty people,” Emilio added, nostrils flaring with brief irritation. “We’re not talking about killing the people who were tossed in cages for fucking up. We’re talking about the ones who carve people’s fucking hearts out for fun. You really want people like that running around this town?” The thing was, he understood where the Good Neighbors must have been coming from, in the beginning. Their philosophy wasn’t that far off his own. The only real difference was that Emilio killed the people he deemed worthy of his judgment, while the Good Neighbors locked theirs away. In Emilio’s opinion, killing was kinder. In the opinion of others… Well. There were different schools of thought.

He glanced to Daiyu, nodding his head. “Good idea,” he agreed. “Go in with a plan for the order, get it done as quick as possible. And destroy everything we can. Maybe they try to pick up again later,” he looked to Vic, acknowledging her concern, “but it won’t be easy. We take away their base. We show them that their plans can go wrong. We put the fear in them. If they’re smart, they go underground, try to put distance between themselves and the people they locked up. If they’re not smart…” He trailed off, letting it hang. Odds were, they wouldn’t have to kill any of the people involved with the Good Neighbors. If they didn’t disappear… someone else would take care of that part. Emilio found he didn’t have any real desire to stop that. He wondered if he ought to feel guilty.

He nodded at Zane’s question, looking at Daiyu again. Her smuggling shit in was part of what had clued him in that she might be willing to join his side of this shit. “They’re probably not well fed,” he replied, “so more blood is better. I… might know someone who can get us brains.” He grimaced, unsure he wanted to ask Monty for a favor. But if the zombie was really as into peace as he claimed, he’d probably be on board. And Emilio figured he owed it to him to let him know what was going on with Mack, anyway. He’d want someone to tell him, if it were Nora or Wynne. 

—

For a while, Alistair stayed silent, listening as people listed off what to do, about what they would do with what. For a moment, they found themselves completely detaching from the conversation, dissociating as they thought about the very real possibility of dying here. Some people were locked up who wanted them dead, they’d been too close to Winnifred for too long. They were responsible for their cellmates disappearing and never returning. If anything, Alistair was just as much a monster as those who were locked behind those cell doors. It’s something they’d been wrestling with for quite some time, but now? Now they had to finally address it. 

They couldn’t let themselves simply die, they had to continue preparing for the worst-case scenario. While everyone else planned who to set free and what to do, Alistair was making a mental checklist of what they needed to gather for a spell. “There’s no world where Winnifred wouldn’t come after us if she was allowed to walk away unscathed.” They finally spoke up after some time, still distant, still somewhere else in their mind. 

“I say we let the prisoners deal with her.” It was harsh, it was crass, but it’s what they thought. “I’m sure the prisoners will take care of Daiyu and me if we’re not careful,” Alistair added, crossing their arms over their chest. “We’ve been to the keep countless times, they know our faces.” They spoke to Daiyu, though they didn’t look over to her. “It’s something to keep in mind, that’s all.” They nervously scratched at the side of their nose, knowing that they were opening a can of worms with their words.

__

Vic felt her grip tighten around the arm of the chair, staring Daiyu in the eyes as her sharp words echoed around the room.  For her part, her expression remained stoic and still, but inside, she was seething.  “Those who wish to take down positions of power inherently have to be better.  It’s the whole goddamn point of what we’re doing.”  This was a bad idea, she should have never agreed to join this overtaking- never eavesdropped on Daiyu and Alistair in the first place.  “I suggest that we do anything other than stick our thumbs up our asses and hope for the best.”  Perhaps she should be one of the ones to be punished.  Not for crimes involving the Good Neighbors, but for all she’d done to vampires for centuries.   

But Emilio had a point.  Some of the people in the cages were bad.  That was the long and short of it.  The problem, to her, came with who got to decide what bad was.  “No”, she said quietly, and she stood up again, walking to the other side of the room in a huff.  She wasn’t used to having to work with people, or having to compromise on her beliefs to make  someone else’s plan work for someone else.  But she wasn’t naive to the fact that she was the newbie in all of this, and that everyone here thought they were doing the right thing.  No matter how ignorant some of them sounded.

She glanced at Emilio, then at Daiyu, and then at the others, feeling calmer than she had a moment ago.  “Then I think it’s worth discussing continuing to meet up after everything.  Periodically, to make sure she doesn’t try this again.”

She raised her eyebrows at Alistair’s suggestion, not hating it in the slightest.  It would be the truest justice to let those that were scorned by Winnifred be the ones to decide her fate.  Even if it were just the supposed ‘good’ ones.  She looked between the rest of the group, eager to hear their thoughts.

__

All of the arguing wasn’t exactly inspiring hope. This was a group of people clearly not accustomed to working in a team, basically a bunch of Emilios struggling to find ways to make this collaboration work. Zane wondered if he was the only one in here with actual experience of working in a team - granted, a team focused on saving lives and not… whatever this was. “We’re not gonna get far if the four of you tear each other’s heads off, first,” he muttered, finally moving from the perceived safety of his position backed against the wall. “It’s a shit situation and there’s obviously not going to be a conclusion everyone is comfortable with. So we’re all going to be uncomfortable and really morally compromised and we either deal with it or actual, good people are going to continue to rot away in cells.” It had come out a bit more… scolding than intended and he backed down again, arms once more crossing over his chest. “Up to you, I guess,” he added, withdrawn and hoping he hadn’t overstepped any boundaries as the ‘random fifth addition’. 

Maybe all of this would work. Maybe it wouldn’t. Honestly, it probably wouldn’t and something would go wrong. Zane thought about the last ‘jail break’ he’d been a part of. It had definitely gone wrong but… overall, it had been worth it. All he could hope was that this would be worth it, too. And he needed to remember to ask Emilio later where in the world he was procuring brains from.

—

It was easy to keep looking at Vic. To stare her down and take her words and consider throwing the soda bottle at her head. “Then you can fuck off if you want. There’s no better. There’s just ending it. And we are better, for ending their suffering, rather than keeping them there to rot.” Daiyu’s eyes glared darkly at Zane, another person she barely knew who was suddenly mounting a moral high horse as if there was any morality to be found here. Violence begot violence. This would ripple out. It was just another punch thrown in a never ending brawl. “Fine.”

Speaking of brawls, she’d prefer one of those rather than planning this. “M’fine with meeting up after this.” Then, to Alistair: “She can try to come after me. I wish her a ton of luck fighting her hired muscle.” Daiyu didn’t think herself above harm, but there was no way that Winnifred would win in a fight against her. “Best to keep her away from the Keep when we destroy it, if you ask me. Not alert her and all that shit. Just more trouble.” She rubbed her forehead. “And yeah, people will be pissed. I can deal. I’ve dealt with pissed off supernaturals before.” Kind of part of the job description. “Will watch your back though.” 

She wanted to beckon Nugget over and bury her face in his fur before rushing out and going for a run (where she punched trees). In stead she exhaled. “Alright. Emilio and Zane, blood and brains duty. Alistair, spells. Me? Weapons.” She glared at Vic. “Explosives?” 

—

“If the people she’s fucked over want to go after her, that’s between her and them. I’m not risking my ass to save her from shit she brought onto herself,” Emilio added, crossing his arms over his chest. He wouldn’t kill Winnifred, but he wouldn’t stop anyone she’d wronged from doing so if they chose to. After all, he’d hope that anyone who came across him on his never ending quest for vengeance would offer the same courtesy. People got what they deserved, sometimes; Emilio had no intention of standing in the way of that. “If you two want to get out before we start freeing the ones who might be a little angrier at you than others, that’s fine, too,” he added, looking to Alistair and Daiyu. The latter, he figured, would turn down the offer. The former was more likely to take it.

Zane spoke up, and Emilio was reminded why he brought him in the first place. Having someone he knew he could trust was good, but having someone he knew he could trust who could also wrangle people in a way Emilio himself was incapable of? It was a good thing. It made Zane kind of perfect for this shit. He offered the vampire a curt nod. To the rest of the group, he said, “We shouldn’t wait long. They’re likely to figure out someone’s planning something soon. We need to act before then. Catch them off guard. If everyone knows what they’re doing… I say we move in sooner than later. Good with everyone?”

—

The slayer was giving Alistair an out, an out that they very well thought about taking before frowning and shaking their head. “I’m seeing this through.” They spoke, voice harsh and determined. There was so much that they still had to get done, and now was the time to expedite everything they’d worked so hard to accomplish. They were going to do this. They were doing it for Tommy, no one else. Not even themselves.  The plan was set into motion, and there was nothing to do but go ahead with it. From helping to create the Keep and the Good Neighbors to taking it down, Alistair knew they were nothing more than a hypocrite and a traitor. But if this is what it took to keep themselves alive, then so be it. They gripped Brutus’s lead tightly, then nodded their head. “Then so be it. As soon as we’re ready to go, we go. Not a moment later.” Alistair waved a hand, and the papers in the middle of the table began to move around until they were in a neat pile. “Then next we meet, we burn it all to the ground.”

[seigephoenix]

hello, and happy friday! briar sounds so interesting, and her and cullen seem delightfully complex, so maybe smth with those two and the dragon age prompt: "Why do you insist on taking care of everyone but yourself?" -broodwolf221

Happy Friday!! For @dadrunkwriting. Briar and Cullen have a complicated relationship based on their past but the have found a way to have peace with each other. I love them so much.

With this last one I am calling it a night. I didn't think I was this tired. I'll get to the rest of the prompts next week, especially the smut prompts. Good night everybody!

Content Warning: wholesome

She leaned against the wall next to his door studying his profile as whatever report he had in hand was completely absorbing his attention.  She understood the workload required to run a sizable military; she had been in charge of the Ferelden Grey Wardens until recently.  Briar had sought out the Inquisition after hearing rumors about Wardens chasing Stroud.  That had been suspicious enough for her to follow up and she found out about the false Calling.  She was about to announce her presence when another messenger showed up with a stack of papers and Briar shook her head.

“Sister Leliana’s reports sir, as you requested.”  Cullen thanked the man and he hurried off after setting the papers down on Cullen’s desk.  Briar waited to see if Cullen would notice her but he seemed absorbed in his task at hand.  She shook her head again and slowly straightened.  She ambled over to Cullen’s desk, putting her hand on the stack of papers, finally pulling him out of the trance he seemed to be in.

“Briar, I didn’t see you.” She merely smiled and stepped around the desk, putting herself between him and the papers.  “I hate to be that person, but would you please move?  These reports need to be filled out if we are to get the troops the equipment they need.”

She looked up into his face, studying his features as if trying to commit them to memory.  There were lines around his eyes and mouth, etched deep into his skin from the constant burden he carried.  Her hand reached up to soothe his furrowed brow as she stubbornly refused to move.  She sensed the irritation and impatience simmering in him.  He’d met his match in her, Alistair and Zevran both described her as the most stubborn woman they’d ever met.

“Cullen, why do you insist on taking care of everyone but yourself?”  Her fingers glided over his face until her palm cupped his cheek.  “I worry about you.”

“The troops require,” he began only to be stopped by a finger on his lips.  Exasperation filled his eyes and Briar merely smiled in answer.

“The troops require a Commander that will sometimes prioritize his own wellbeing.  If the Commander were to falter in battle where would that leave the Inquisition?”  Cullen released a breath.  He reached up and tugged her hand down until he rested against his chest.  He leaned in and touched his forehead to hers, savoring the moment of peace between them.

“I know you are right, but it is still rather difficult to put myself first.  In any situation.”  Briar angled her head so her lips brushed over his.

“It’s never too late to learn Cullen.  Come on, let’s go take a nap in your bedroom.”  His eyebrows rose and she burst out laughing.  “I truly mean a nap Commander, just where was your mind going?”  He flushed and she grinned as he grumbled about sassy mages.

[coastielaceispunk]

The Gift of Lingerie

Kinktober22: Lingerie/Stockings with Maxwell Lord

Maxwell Lord x f!reader 

A Man’s World-Verse

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Language, established relationship, family fluff, switch!Maxie and switch!reader, lingerie kink (men’s and women’s), edging, some orgasm denial, thigh riding, lots of praise (good boy and good girl), light mocking, touch of begging, dry humping, fingering, oral f receiving, unprotected PinV, creampie, cumplay.

Masterlist | Kinktober Outline | Absurdthirst’s Kinktober Prompt List

+++++ 

It is finally Friday. The Friday you’ve been looking forward to for quite a while now. A Friday of surprises for your dear husband, Maxwell. He has been such a good boy and deserves the gifts you are about to bestow on him today. He also has a very big day of meetings as an investor of a new green-energy wind farm company, and it's been forever since he has had to business up and perform. So, yes, Max deserves his treats and deserves to enjoy them with you.

You leave earlier in the morning than he does, so as part of your routine you lay out his pressed black slacks, white button down, and deep burgundy tie. This morning is a little more open because Alistair is away at Science Camp for a long weekend; he was so excited to finally go. Talked about it all summer. Max, on the other hand, was reluctant, “He’s just growing up so fast.” Sweet man is so worried and stressed he needs the distraction, and comfort, today.

After making sure his jacket is hanging ready, you place his white undershirt and one last touch. His first treat of the day and accompanying card of encouragement, luck, and instructions. 

Prior to leaving, you turn to take him in, still sleeping. Max is twisted in the sheets, laying face down in his pillow with his arms above his head, his bare back exposed and so kissable. His beautiful face is relaxed and his open mouth is releasing little snores. Damn he’s adorable. All rumpled and soft. You plant a little good-bye kiss on his temple and he smiles lazily in his slumber. After one last rub of his warm back, because you can’t help yourself, you pull away to depart so you don’t wake him. He still has forty-five minutes before his alarm. Off to the office you go, excited to see the state he is in when you return home to him.

+++

Max wakes to his offensive alarm with a jolt. As he sits up with a groan, he rubs the remaining sleep from his eyes, then it sets in why he is up this early. His nerves start to take over while he sips his cup of coffee, coffee you had made during your morning routine, and they only get worse during his shower. Max finds himself staring at the water running down his arms. He is zoning out, but he's got to get himself together. He can do this. 

With his towel around his waist he drys his curls and steps back out into the bedroom. The house is so quiet without you or Alistair here. It's now that he realizes he doesn’t like to be alone anymore. Thinking of how far he has come, his gaze finds where you have set out his clothes for the day. Max throws the smaller towel on the bed and mutters, “Oh sweetheart, I don’t deserve you.” He speaks it into the empty room like you can hear him.

There’s a note and something wrapped in gray tissue paper on top of his undershirt.

“What’s this?”

My dearest Husband,

You will be amazing today, tell your nerves you’ve got this because you do! I believe in you, my love. Seriously though, being a little nervous is natural and hopefully I can offer you a tiny distraction so you can be your best! Open your first treat of the day now…I will wait.

Max reaches for the gift with a shining grin, thinking he couldn't love you more  than he does right now in this moment, then he opens the paper and his smile falls as his jaw drops at what he sees.

Maxwell, I want you to wear these sexy black briefs under your work clothes today, feel the silky material all day, and most importantly…for me baby…DO NOT COME. If you’re a good boy you will get the rest of your treat right when I get home, and all night long. I can’t wait to see you in them. 

Be good pretty boy, and do great!

I love you Maxie!

“Fuck sake,” Max breathes as he picks up the black material to feel it through his fingertips, “how am I supposed to…”

Soft. Silky. Smooth. It feels so fucking good in his hands. He has to wear them…for you. Now he is excited for the day. He rips his towel off and slides the briefs up his long legs, when he settles the waistband at his hips…he moans. Max can’t help it when he roughly grabs his cock over the soft material to adjust himself in the crotch. Fuck. He starts to stroke his growing length, he was already half hard from your note alone. When he shudders he remembers your words and reluctantly removes his palm. He will be hard as a rock all day.

Max finishes getting dressed, learning just how sensitive he is to the silky briefs. Every major movement rubbing his cock just right and he curses his love for lingerie. He knows why you did this, he knows you know he is very tactile and gets so turned on by the soft sensations. Having something on his person all day making him this hot will be a challenge, one in which he gladly accepts for you. 

His ride to the meeting is pretty uneventful, except for the fact that he has remained hard in his slacks. The less movement he makes, the less he will have to strangle a groan in his throat. It's only when he’s moving from standing to sitting, and vice versa, does it really get him, so the long meetings help. Max had to cover a whimper with a cough just once when he got too comfortable and rolled his hips to situate in his seat. Big mistake. Directly after that meeting he nearly ran to the bathroom to shove his hand down his pants in the stall to relieve some of the pressure. So soft. So smooth against his sensitive tip. Fuck. Max releases himself with a growl, your words echoing in his head…DO NOT COME.

You have never edged him for this long. He can’t stand it and he loves it. His dick rests tucked in his waistband for the rest of the day, with no sign of ever softening in the silky underwear.

+++

All day you think of Max. Is he enjoying his challenge? Is he following your instructions? He’s a good boy, he will. Oh, he’s going to be a needy mess, it’s going to be a great night. You’re so eager to get home to him now you’re holding the wheel too tight as your thoughts of Maxie start to run wild.

You’ve known about his infatuation with lingerie and stockings for a long while. He’s like most men, they love their pretty girl wrapped in something sexy and dainty and alluring. You learned quickly it was a little more for Maxwell. He loves the look sure, but he also gets off on the feel. His fingertips love to trace the lace edges and seams all over your body. He loves the look of his hand tightly underneath the patterns and see through material. He can’t keep his hands off your legs when you are walking around in your thigh highs. You have been late to many dinners and events due to him rubbing up against you while you get ready in the mirror. Him being so desperate with his hands and cock makes you wet just thinking about it. You always give in to him and let him take you. Max gives and takes pleasure so damn well.

Max also loves lingerie because he can ruin it. He worships you in it most times but then there are the more feral times where he wants nothing more than to stain it and rip it off of you. You secretly hope he didn’t ruin his new briefs today because you want to watch him do it. In the past you’ve taken your discarded nylons and jerked him off with them in your hand, squeezing them around his cock. Max was so loud you had to shove your other nylon in his mouth and he came so quickly it surprised both of you. He made you come five times that night.

All your reminiscing made your drive home quick and you are now pulling in the driveway. You turn the key in the front door and as soon as you walk in you are greeted by Max’s hands on either side of your face pulling you into a desperate, hungry kiss. He is dressed only in his long robe, loosely open, with his silky black briefs underneath. So hot. 

“Hi, baby, how are you?” You grin into his kisses placing your hands onto his exposed freckled chest in an attempt to calm him down.

“Please, darling, I was so good all day. I didn’t come. I waited for you like you said. Please. Please.” Max begs in between harsh pants with his mouth on yours. You glance down to see just how needy he is and gasp, the thin fabric hiding nothing, the large damp spot darkening the briefs from a full day of leaking pre-cum.

“I believe you, baby boy,” you reach down to cup his balls and he whines, “you feel so good filling out these sexy little briefs, Maxie. You’re almost too big, look at you, so needy.”

Max whimpers as he latches his mouth to your neck, his hands pushing off your blazer and bag. 

“Are you ready for your next surprise, handsome?”

He nods his head vigorously and his hands grab at every part of you as you continue to stroke him over his underwear. You haven’t even left the foyer and his knees are already faltering under your touch. That’s when you turn in his tight grasp. “Look baby,” you place a hand on the back of his neck so he looks down to watch as you hike up your sensible black pencil skirt to reveal his other gift. 

Max moans in your ear, deep and hot, while staring at the tops of your thighs as you unveil your burgundy red garter belts that connect your new matching lace lingerie and nude stockings. His hands roughly grab your hips, his fingers slinking under the edges of the lace immediately. As you push your ass back against his cock, pulling his lips to yours with the leverage, you whisper, “I matched your tie today, and I wore my lingerie all day, just like you baby boy, and I can confirm I am just as wet as you are.”

That’s when Max snaps with a growl and pushes you against the front door. He rips your blouse off, buttons flying in every direction, so he can see the rest of you. The rest of his present. He pulls your skirt down and over your ass and it drops to the floor alongside his robe. The both of you stand pressed flush against each other in the foyer of your home with nothing on but sexy lingerie.

Max starts to dry hump the round of your ass, making the most erotic sounds. He cannot help himself and it’s so fucking hot. You hold on to the back of his neck and his thick forearm for dear life as he ruts you into the door. 

“That’s it, Maxie, come in your new underwear. Ruin them, I know you want to. Then you can ruin mine too.”

“Fuck! Fuuuck…” Max’s hips stutter then he stills when he lets out a ragged cry. He comes for a long time, you can feel him pulsing at your lower back as he holds you tight to him caressing the lingerie under your breasts. His breathing is harsh as he slumps against you further. “Oh my fucking god, that felt fucking amazing, I need more, please sweetheart, I’m still hard and I need to be inside of you, please.”

You lean off the door and pull him by his hand to the bedroom, he’s a little sluggish after such a powerful orgasm but he's ready and on you as soon as he pushes you onto the bed. You feel him throb within his soaked briefs when he lays his weight on your body. Edging him all day was so worth it. 

After having his tongue in your mouth for a few minutes, Max finally starts to really appreciate what you’re wearing for him. He bites at the deep red dainty straps. He mouths your nipples through the thin lace, making you moan his name. He caresses your stomach where the teddy beautifully lays across it, sliding his large hand underneath appreciating the pattern. Then his hot mouth finds your clit over the lace and he hums, “So wet for me, darling, so beautiful.”

“Always for you, Maxie.” 

Then he has you panting in a matter of seconds as he hungrily sucks on the fabric stretched over your cunt. His hands squeezing your ass, holding you to his face. When he opens his lips wide to have all of you in his mouth, you look down, shocked by the sensation to find him watching you with lust blown hooded eyes. Max is drunk on you, has been since you walked through the door. You whine, it’s so much and not enough. Max doesn’t hesitate knowing what you need and bites the seam of your lingerie to move it to the side. You yelp and grab at the sheets frantically. That's when he inserts two thick fingers into your pussy.“Here, sweetheart, something for you to come on before I give you my cock.”

As he starts to fuck you on his fingers, Max leans back to take you in and remove his ruined underwear. He moves to straddle your leg as he keeps his pace that has you writhing beneath him. Max starts to rock back and forth over your stocking covered thigh and groans as the soft material gives him some much needed friction. You place your hand on his hip as he times his soft thrusts with his hand between your legs. You can’t help but stare at his strong body, the freckles over his stomach that you’ve mapped and kissed, the ripple of his muscles as he moves above you. You’re so close, your eyes rolling back, and then you scream when he presses his soiled briefs against your swollen clit with his thumb.

“Isn’t - it…doesn’t - it - feel - amazing,” Max pants above you and then you’re seeing stars as your orgasm rips through you and soaks his hand. “Fuck, sweetheart, I could come again just like this, but I have to be inside this sweet cunt.”

You’re still reeling from your release as you feel him situate between your thighs and thrust into your pussy with one steady push. You moan and he moans back at you. He hikes your legs up around his waist, his soft tummy pressed against your own, and that's when you realize you are still very much clothed in your lingerie. Max never removed a thing from you. He is really enjoying his treat. 

“Maxie,” you whine as he sets a brutal pace, both of you slightly overstimulated.

“Maaxiee,” he whines back at you, “I love when you’re so fucked out all you can do is cry my name. Such a good girl, treating me so well today. Thank you darling, now come again on my cock, one more baby, and I will fill you up.”

All you can do is whimper and pant as he fucks you deep into the bed, the canopy frame swaying above you. You worked him up all day and this is your reward. Fuck yes. 

Max sucks on your nipple over the lace as his fingers find your clit again to throw you over the edge. He fucks you hard as you come all around him, clenching him tight inside you. Max bares his teeth, chasing his own second release, and with the remaining energy you have you unlock your ankles to caress his ass and thighs with your nylon covered legs. His eyes roll back at the sensation. “Oh fuck yes,” he chants and then he stills deep inside you, his mouth open for a silent cry as his face contorts into ultimate ecstasy. His cock throbs as he pumps you full of his come and he shudders when he falls on top of you, spent. 

After a few moments catching your breath, stuck together with sweat, he leans up sharing a sloppy kiss. He pulls out of you with a groan then smiles down at himself and the mess you’ve made together.

“What is it?”

“I just feel incredible, darling, this is the first time all day my cock hasn’t been hard as steel.”

You both laugh, and then you quietly gasp as his fingers lightly touch your puffy lips to collect some of your combined release, Max becomes entranced as he drags it over the delicate lace over your stomach. All you can do is sigh happily as he ruins your lingerie too. 

“I am so happy you enjoyed your treats, baby boy, you deserved them.” 

Max kisses you again before getting up to stretch and get you cleaned up, but you follow him to the bathroom. You wrap your arms around his tummy and look at him in the mirror, he’s glowing and relaxed, just how you wanted him.

“Why don’t you undress me, handsome, we can shower and you can tell me all about your meetings over take out?”

“Okay, my darling, but promise me you only put lingerie back on, it’s still early and I want to make love to you all night.”

You agree with grabby hands over his tummy and he smiles.

“Oh, and, we need to see about getting me more of those silky briefs, today was exhilarating!” 

With a mischievous smile you bring your lips to his ear while locking eyes in the mirror, “Don’t you worry, baby boy, I bought the three pack.”

+++++

A/N: No regular taglist for Kinktober but I will tag my beautiful beta @lowlights, @littlemisspascal, and @absurdthirst for the inspo. Thanks for reading loves!

Next: Cumplay with Dieter Bravo

[anonaga]

Rant: Ted as a villain

Alright, I doubt anyone has heard this one before, but let me be the one to show you all it. Ted was set up perfectly enough to be an amazing villain, he had everything a villain who went from good to evil needed. Motive, reason, strategy, execution, the right edge, alliance, and formation. His motive? After seeing everything done to everyone by the vespers or one another, he would never dream siding with an antagonist, however, upon watching (or technically not watching) Isabel, Damien, Alistair, Natalie, and others die, he could probably be put into a spot where he knew he could have helped if he just was more involved. His motive is to side with evil to protect people. His reasoning? He believes by siding with evil, he could tamper with the plans. He could reduce the dramatics caused by the antags, in his mind, if he were to be valuable. His strategy? Well, his original strategy could be what I stated in the reasoning, by tampering with everything he could reduce damage and protect certain tings. The execution? For him to be a proper villain, he has to have malice motive at a point. Which is why during Into the Gauntlet, he would pull Dan into a hug and steal his papers with the clues. he figured with the serum, he could trick villains into believing they really needed him. However, let's say at some point during his imprisonment, the Ekaterina serum is recovered by Damien, and they decide to prepare all the hostages separate cups of water, with his being the serum. After he drinks it, aware of the fact it was not a normal drink, they tell him he is being executed and take him out of the prison. Of course, everyone else begs for them not to, as he's a kid and has more to live for, as well as other reasons. They don't shoot him, but they fire a bullet the opposite direction after removing him from the prison, so everyone believes they killed him. Damien explains how he gave Ted the serum because he has potential, and gives Ted a set of contact lenses that restore a bit of his vision, just enough to make lines seem prominent. They tell him that if he doesn't cooperate, they'll kill one of the hostages he had most bonded with; Natalie, Nellie or Reagan. He agrees and starts working with them, originally they don't trust him enough to allow him to run anything by himself, until the serum kicks in a few days later. He turns into some sort of (even more) genius, stone wall, ruthless guy who has only set his eyes on logical courses. During the battle during DoD, when he witnesses Natalie die through cameras, he can practically feel himself coming back to his conscious, as Natalie was his friend (and it'd contribute to the plot greatly if he had a small crush on Natalie, for his development.) He walks into the room, following Damien, and threatens to shoot Damien. When Damien simply tells everyone about the serum and how this must be Ted's "logical choices", Ted shoots part of the Machina Fini Mundi, causing it to riptide as he and Isabel battle, the two antags to be sucked in immediately. He apologizes to everyone, saying how Damien had slipped him the serum, and everyone leaves happy after the cave collapses. The book ends with Dan asking Amy how Ted saw where to shoot on the machine if he was blind, with Ted entering the room behind them and saying "you just don't get it, do you?" and that ends off the Cahills Vs Vespers portion. I can do more about what i think would happen after in Unstoppable and Doublecross if I feel like it.

[shiphappen-s]

SO you've watched Les Miserable (2012) and/or have seen a production of Les Miserable and youre really interested but also intimidated by the shear amount of content

I should be writing a 4 page paper about Socrates but instead i am here. This will be my humble attempt at creating an introductory pamphlet for the Les Mis fandom lol

disclaimer: I have not read the book by victor hugo (also referred to as the Brick) and almost everything here is from my own personal experience and perspective. this is not intended to be a definitive guide to Les Mis, just a stepping stone from the source material (Book/Movie/Musical/etc) to the fandom lol

(more below the cut!)

Barricade Boys:

Enjolras- leader in red, is always either really short or really tall, gorgeous, played by Aaron Tveit

Grantaire- cynic in green, often drunk and/or acting drunk, played by George Blagden

Combeferre- Enjolras's right hand, considered the brains of the group, likes moths, played by Killian Donnelly

Courfeyrac- Enjolras's left hand, very charming and compassionate, will glitterbomb his friends, played by Fra Fee

Joly- uses a cane, hypochondriac but also a med student of some kind, likes dinosaurs (idk where i saw that but its cemented in my mind), played by Hugh Skinner

Bosseut/L'Aigle de Meaux/Lesgles/Laigle- man has many names, very unlucky, very bald (not in the movie tho), played by Stuart Neal

Musichetta- not in the movie, owns/works at the Cafe Musain (where the barricade boys aka Les Amis de l’ABC have their meetings)

Feuilly- usually portrayed as a ginger, working class/makes fans for a living, the only amis who isn't a student, played by Gabriel Vick

Bahorel- loves to fight, knows EVERYONE no matter where he goes, played by Iwan Lewis

Jehan/Jean Prouvaire- youngest amis, likes poetry and usually portrayed with long hair, played by Alistair Brammer

Montparnasse- not technically barricade boy but often mentioned in fics, part of Patron Minette (the gang Eponine and her family run/are a part of), very stylish, either a sleazeball scumbag or a bad boy with a heart of gold

Common Relationships:

Enjolras/Grantaire- the most famous/impactful/popular ship, so much content, basically canon (“Grantaire admired, loved, and venerated Enjolras”) also they died holding hands

Valjean/Javert- also pretty popular, not my cup of tea but if you like DILFS+enemies to lovers this is the ship for you

Bosseut/Joly/Musichetta- one of my personal favs, also basically canon (Joly and Bosseut “lived together, ate together, slept together. They had everything in common, even Musichetta, to some extent.”)

Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and Enjolras- best friends, tight circle, founders of the Les Amis de l’ABC, referred to in the brick as the Chief (E), the Guide (Ferre), and the Center (Courf)

Combeferre/Courfeyrac- best friends to lovers and/or childhood friends to lovers

Courfeyrac/Marius- supported by canon a bit (courf was marius’s first friend)

Marius/Cosette- canon, bi wife energy

Cosette/Eponine- if youre into flower shop/tattoo shop aus this is the ship for you

Feuilly/Bahorel- established relationship in majority of fics but not a ton of content focused on just them unfortunately

Jehan/Montparnasse- the grumpy one loves the sunshine one

Eponine/Combeferre- kind of a rare pair but its a guilty pleasure so i had to rep, i just love the idea of Eponine being loved unconditionally by a man who will never manipulate or judge her

A few accounts to follow:

@pilferingapples - the OG, so cool and knowledgeable everything they add to any post enhances it 10%. If youre interested in the history of the June Rebellion or anything related to the Brick, they have a ton of great resources also theyre really nice

@just-french-me-up - always has great content, also fairly active

@fuckyeahlesmiserables - reblogs a ton of awesome fanart

@juanjoltaire - Wigs's (Wigs'? Wig's?) art is incredible and I love the art style so much

@bahorell - Im biased bc i love Bahorel

@revolutionnaire-farouche - equal parts book, musical, fanon content

@shitpostingfromthebarricade - also an OG, one of the pillars of the fandom tbh, also they write fic!

@allthatsleftofus / @thecandlesticksfromlesmis - Eli and Co put together a truly INCREDIBLE webseries about a modern au barricade? 10/10 made me cry and the love they have for the characters is absolutely represented in their work

@les-amis-de-l-a-bae-c - also a really good account to follow, cool content, and fairly active!

Fanfic Recommendations:

Ok so the les mis fandom has a lot of modern au and reincarnation au fics just in general. these are a few of my favorite fics that ive read and have stuck with me over time! all of them are from ao3.

Bring a Torch by fraternite- It's Winter Break and so, of course, all the students are home with their families, celebrating the holidays. Except for the ones that can't. Some aren't able to travel home to be with their families; others wouldn't spend the holiday with their families if you paid them a million dollars. Some aren't welcome at home anymore. Some have no home to go to.

A handful of these students connect when an ice storm knocks out the power. And they find that they are not as alone as they thought.

An origin story of sorts for the Amis.

(If youre new here and looking for fic, i 100% recommend starting here. this is a modern/college au that has been my favorite les mis fic since the ninth grade and i reread it every winter break.)

Lovesickness by idiopathicsmile- Enjolras swallowed. "I didn't know he had tattoos on his back."

"Yeah," said Joly, shrugging. "I mean, he lives with me and before about noon, he's allergic to shirts—"

"Why—" said Enjolras weakly.

"I always figured he had a bad shirt experience," Joly offered. "Shirts killed his family, or his first dog got hit by a truck full of shirts."

Enjolras shook his head. His face was a little flushed.

"Ooh, are you experiencing symptoms?" said Joly, brightening. "What's your pulse doing? Are you breathing normally? How do your glands feel?"

Inspired in part by tumblr user feferi's post here, specifically: "i am in love with the idea that enjolras is so baffled by his own emotions towards grantaire that he legitimately cannot tell if he has heartburn or stomach butterflies"

Modern AU. Joly is a gentleman, a scholar, a med student—and, when need be, a matchmaker. And oh, the need is definitely being.

Semantics by telm_393- Marius isn't exactly sure what to do with himself when he leaves home, but, to be fair, he's not sure what to do with himself most of the time. Meeting Courfeyrac and the Amis is probably the best thing that's ever happened to him. And then he meets Cosette.

(Or: Marius is autistic, Gillenormand didn't know how to raise him, Courfeyrac and Cosette are good people, and apparently you don't have to stick with the family you were born with. You can make one.)

sleep, and dream of me- Grantaire dreams about gunfire, and fingers twined warmly with his own, and he paints and he paints yet can never get the images out of his head. Images of a blond man, always surrounded by red – red jacket, red flags, red blood – who shines like the sun and calls to Grantaire like a siren.

For days, this goes on; this… fixation on this man he’s never met, never seen; these flashbacks of memories he hasn’t lived. And then he runs into a man whose blond hair shines golden in the sunlight and who stares at Grantaire with a slack jaw and wide eyes and who says haltingly, “I… I know you.”

Words Never Spoken by StrawberryBubbles- At the age of eighteen the first words your soul mate will ever say to you appear etched into your skin, they stay there forever and it means everyone always knows who their soul mate is the second they exchange their first spoken words. Everyone except Enjolras. When he turned eighteen there was nothing, not a word, not even a letter. But it’s been four years, he’s adjusted, he’s accepted the fact that he doesn’t have a soul mate, won’t ever meet the love of his life, and he is fine with that. Until he meets Grantaire. Inspired by a tumblr post.

Thoughts of Flight by lenaballena - What's wrong. What isn't wrong?

They can't find Gavroche, Musichetta can't fit into her dress anymore, Marius was picking up Eponine's dress and got lost and possibly arrested (they're still trying to decipher his texts) there's a crazy woman who claims to be family of the bride harassing security and trying to gain access to the wedding, and Feuilly just punched one of Combeferre's cousins. Twice. She can't find Grantaire, and hasn't seen Enjolras either, which means both Eponine and Combeferre's best men are tearing into eachother somewhere, and if it's the sexy kind of tearing she's going to kill Grantaire, and if it's not she's absolutely going to murder Enjolras because their best friends get one special day and dammit he is not going to ruin it because Grantaire doesn't drink free trade coffee.

Oh, and Jehan doesn't like the flowers.

(or: when Combeferre and Eponine get married, and everything goes wrong but turns out right)

Danger Days by FredAndGinger, SpinalBaby- The mysterious graffiti artist R is dragged into a resistance group when his cellmate in a reconditioning facility, Bossuet, was rescued. Faced with memory loss, a beautiful and familiar leader, and a rag-tag band of rebels living in the wastelands outside of the post apocalyptic city of New Paris (formerly known as Las Vegas), how can anything possibly go wrong?

[pappydaddy]

Baking Gone Right (k.s.)

a/n: this is a blurb request from my 400 follower celebration that closes on dec 18th sent in by my very lovely moot @twobit-alistair! you are simply amazing lovely💛! as soon as i saw this request, i knew i could not choose between the word prompts "baking" and "interrupted" so i did both 😅. thank you once again for your sweet words, your celebration submission, and i hope you love this fic lovely💛!

tv show/movie: fear street 1994

pairing: kate schmidt x fem!reader

request by the lovely @twobit-alistair (check out their blog, you'll love it!)

summary: y/n's simple task of baking some cookies with her girlfriend goes wrong somehow and they end up being caught in a questionable position. also, awkward spacing brought to you by the tumblr website.

warnings: fluff, making a mess, possibly embarrassing situation, getting caught, spicy (kinda).

sidenote: i had made this into a cheerleader!reader, but then i changed it last minute because i realized i was playing into the male fetishization of wlw couples and i did not want to do that so i made y/n the school mascot.

taglist: @rottenstyx | @twobit-alistair

masterlist | taglist | wips | navigation - not my gif -

Picking up the piece of paper, Y/N pulled her bottom lip between her teeth in concentration as she looked over the recipe. Humming, she tried to do the mental math. "Hey, Kate," Y/N gently called to her girlfriend who stood beside her, waiting for Y/N to tell her what to add to the empty bowl in front of her. "Do you think doubling this recipe would make enough?" She questioned, extending the paper to the eager girl.

"Probably, just make sure I get my cookies." Kate shrugged, looking at Y/N. Y/N rolled her eyes at her girlfriend, going back to pondering the recipe.

"Let's double it now, then we can see how much it makes and go from there," Y/N decided, letting the paper float back down to the counter. Kate drummed her fingers around the rim on the ceramic bowl, nearly bouncing in her spot, earning a questioning look from her girlfriend. "What's got you so excited? You're not normally this happy to bake unless you're putting something special in it."

"I am excited to bake with my girlfriend, is that a crime," Kate asked, faking offence by Y/N's suspicion. Y/N hummed, not believing her as she preheated the old oven in her kitchen. "I swear, I don't have any tricks up my sleeve, I'm not going to spike these cookies." Kate stepped away from the bowl, to press a reassuring kiss to Y/N's cheek.

"If that is true, we can do something special after this, deal," Y/N smiled from the kiss, hiding it from Kate as she reached up into the cupboard for the measuring cups and spoons. Kate let out a happy noise of excitement at that. "With some from my brother's stash, as long as I give him the money to replace it, he won't care. He's not back from College for another two months anyway." She added in, setting all the measuring tools on the counter around the recipe.

"No way, your brother buys the best weed, where does he get it?" Kate questioned, pushing the ingredients closer to Y/N, knowing she likes them being put within her reach.

"I think his roommate grows it," She shrugged, unwrapping the stick of butter. Looking from the recipe to the butter, she gave another shrug before dumping the entire stick into the bowl in front of Kate. "Could you break that up? It will make it easier to stir." Y/N asked her, looking at the recipe to see what to add next.

"Is that too much?" Kate eyed it. She didn't know much about baking, but a whole stick of butter seemed like it would be too much. She wasn't sure what it would do if you did put too much butter in cookies, but she did know Y/N. She would be disappointed if these cookies didn't sell at the bake sale.

"We're doubling it, besides, who doesn't love a tender cookie," Y/N asked, scooping out the sugar. Kate simply shrugged, breaking up the stick regardless. Maybe tender cookies would be a hit? It would be something different than all the chewy ones. Shuffling over, Y/N added the sugar to the butter before dumping the same amount of brown sugar in. "Okay, you're gonna beat that until it is creamy and fluffy. While you do that, I'll get the flour ready." Y/N sighed, wiping her hands on the front of her uniform, looking around at the pile of ingredients.

"Got it," Kate nodded, her ponytail swinging. She picked up her stirring pace, wanting to get this part done. Y/N, on the other hand, grabbed the medium bowl from the other counter by the sink leisurely, not in any hurry to get her mixture done. "Hey, how long does this usually take?" Kate asked, glancing over at Y/N, spotting her dumping a cup of flour into the bowl without really looking at it.

"Not too long. You've got the longest job really," Y/N told her, scooping up another scoop of flour, dumping it in with the rest. "Why, you got somewhere to be?" She teased, looking over at Kate with a joking glint in her eyes, her arm in the tall flour bag.

"Yes, I was promised a movie date and a smoke sesh with the hottest girl in school." Kate informed her cutely.

"I wasn't aware you were on the market, Schmidt," Y/N hummed. dumping the final scoop of flour into the bowl. "If I did, I would have made a move already. I have a thing for cheerleaders." She threw a wink at her.

"Oddly enough, I have a thing for mascots," Kate faked surprise, eyeing Y/N up and down as she stood there, both of them coming from their cheer practice where Y/N was the school mascot. "But I'm really into mascots who bake." Kate flirted.

"And I really like cheerleaders drabble in drug trading on the side. Seems like we're a perfect match," Y/N followed along with the joke. Dumping in the salt and baking powder, mixing it all together. "Maybe you should forget your date and watch a movie with me."

"Hum," Kate pretended to think, tapping her chin for a second before gripping the bowl again. "That's tempting, let's make it a date, L/N." Y/N laughed at this, grabbing the eggs from their nest of dish towels.

"Now that we have your plans after this straightened out, you need to add these-" Y/N was cut off when she tripped over her own feet, launching the eggs into the air. "Oh my god, Kate, grab them they are the last two I have!" Y/N yelled in fear, catching herself with her hands as she fell to her knees, the rough hardwood of her kitchen scratching them up.

"I got them!" Kate exclaimed, attempting to catch them. She managed to get one, saving it before it could smack against the floor, but the second one was not as lucky. With a crack and a gasp from Kate, the egg hit the top of her head, the broken yolk and egg whites running down her perfectly styled black hair.

Rolling her lips and pressing them together as hard as she could, Y/N tried not to laugh. "I am so sorry, Kate." Her voice shook with laughter as she watched her girlfriend blink in shock, egg dripping from her.

"It's not funny." Kate informed her, but it only made Y/N's laughter spill out.

"It's a little funny, babe." Y/N pointed out, sitting back on her heels as she tried to calm her laughter.

"Oh, yeah, you think so," Kate questioned with a devilish smile. Y/N's face dropped once she realized what Kate was planning. Opening her mouth to speak, she was cut off by her own gasp when Kate dropped the egg she held onto Y/N's hair, her own laughter filling the kitchen.

"Ew!" Y/N shivered at the gooey feeling of the egg slowly sliding down her own hair, slipping into the crevices only to be cleaned by a shower.

"You're right, it is a little funny, babe," Kate was too busy laughing to realize Y/N had stood up, her hand reaching into the bowl holding the flour mixture she had just mixed. With a heaping handful, Y/N launched the mixture at Kate, the flour sticking to the trail of egg instantly. "Hey," Kate opened her eyes, looking at the flour sticking to her uniform. "Oh, two can definitely play at that game!" Kate lunged forward, her hand reaching into the bowl next to Y/N.

"You'll have to catch me first!" Y/N challenged, taking off to the other side of the small kitchen, out of the trajectory of the flour Kate held.

"It's a small kitchen, Y/N, eventually I am going to catch you." Kate spoke with an evil grin, the flour slipping through her tightly fisted fingers quickly making Y/N smile sweetly at her, dodging her easily.

"Yeah, but by the time you do, you'll be all out of flour!" Y/N pointed out, shrieking out as Kate almost caught up to her. With her back turned, she failed to remember that Kate was street-smart, opening her up for attacks. With a battle cry, Kate threw herself at Y/N, bringing her to the ground with a grunt from her.

"I told you I would catch you!" Kate cheered triumphantly, rubbing herself all over Y/N trying to get as much flour from her onto Y/N. Squirming, Y/N tried to escape her girlfriend's grip, but it just made Kate pin her down harder. Y/N froze for a second, a thought dawning within her mind.

"You know, handcuffs work better," She winked, making Kate stop her attack, looking down at her with a raised eyebrow and slightly darker eyes. "I have some in my closet." She whispered seductively, following it up with a wink and a lip bite. Kate's eyes dropped to her lips instantly, licking her own without thinking.

"God, I love you." Kate muttered before dropping herself down, her lips pressing against Y/N's aggressively. Y/N responded instantly, her hands gripping the tight uniform at Kate's side, pulling her down closer to her, wanting to feel her body pressed against hers. Humming into the kiss, Kate shifted, her knee between Y/N's legs, her hands slipping under her top.

Moaning, Y/N started to claw at the top of Kate's uniform, trying to pull it off her, but Kate wasn't giving up control. Prying Y/N's loose lips open, her tongue reaching into the familiar space of Y/N's mouth - invoking another moan from her. In response, Y/N ground her hips against Kate's knee, making her moan out her own groan.

"Holy shit, they're having sex on the floor!" The voice of their friend's scream hit their ears, making them pull apart. With swollen lips and shocked faces, they looked up at the doorway into the kitchen. There stood Deena and Simon. Deena's mouth hung open in shock while Simon was peeking through his spread-out fingers, looking upon them in intrigue.

"I thought you were baking," Deena commented, a smirk overcoming her shock. "We were coming to help, but I guess you guys are quite okay without us." Deena winked, a knowing tone in her voice.

Y/N looked up at Kate, her cheeks tinted red only to see Kate's the matching shade. "Um, actually, we could use some more eggs," Y/N cleared her throat, trying to overcome the embarrassment of her friends walking in on her make-out session. "And butter. I might have put too much in before it all went haywire."

"What even happened in here? It's a mess of egg and flour." Simon questioned as Deena yanked him out of the room, the pair walking to the front door to fetch the eggs and butter.

"Baking gone wrong?" Y/N suggested in a fleeting answer, shouting it in hopes that he heard the answer.

"I think it's baking gone right!" Simon yelled back before the door slammed behind him, Deena surely pulling him along, trying to give the couple some time to clean up or to do something completely different.

[thiefbird]

Regret 

"You... Lethallin..." 

Creators, it couldn't be. Dirth fell to his knees in front of the ghoul. "Tamlen, ma vhenan..." 

"Don't go near me!" he snapped, cringing back. "Stay away!" 

The ghoul snapped his teeth at Dirth's outstretched hand before flinging himself away from camp, off into the woods. Dashing tears from his eyes, Dirth chased after him, easily catching up to the frail husk of his former love. Tamlen was curled up in the gnarled roots of a tree, hands clutching at himself, tearing at the paper-thin skin stretched over his bones. "Don't look at me!" he begged. "Am sick. Sick like the dead." 

Dirth slowly crouched down. "We can help you, Tam," he murmured, reaching out for him. Tamlen flinched, but let Dirth delicately touch his shoulder. "Don't be afraid, ma vhenan." 

Tamlen shook his head frantically,  tearing at what little hair remained on his scalp. "No help. No... help for me..." He snapped his teeth at Dirth's arm, making the smaller elf jump. 

"The song... in my head. It... calls to me. It sings to me! I can't... stop it." He ducked away, scrabbling backwards in the dirt. "Don't want... to hurt you, lethallin. Please, stop me..."

"Tam, please!" Dirth lunged after him, almost falling on his face. "Let me try to heal you, put you through the Joining! I can't lose you a second time..."

Tamlen shook his head. "Too... too far gone, vhenan. Cannot help me. Gone down in the deep with the rot."

"Please, lethallin... ar lath ma..." Dirth whispered, tears streaming down his face as he pulled the ghoul into his arms.

"Always... loved you. So.. sorry." Suddenly, the ghoul snarled, twisting in Dirth's arms to sink his teeth into Dirthail's neck. Dirth gasped as hot blood ran down his throat and soaked into the neck of his tunic, and shoved himself back. He only realized moments later that he'd shoved his knife into Tamlen's ribcage, defending himself on instinct.

Dirth sobbed, crumpling to the ground in a miserable heap as Tamlen choked on his final breath. He had no clue how long he stayed there, crying in the dirt, but suddenly Alistair was hovering over him, concern radiating from him.

"Who was that?" he asked softly as he helped Dirth to his feet. Dirth leaned his weight gratefully against the taller man.

"His name was Tamlen," he whispered hoarsely. "My Tamlen..." Another wave of sobs wracked his body.

"Tamlen? Then... he was the one who was with you when you..." Alistair paused, wrapping his arms around Dirth's smaller frame. "I'm so sorry, Dirth. This is what happens when the Taint is left unchecked. It's... it's better for him, to have it end. It was a mercy."

Dirthail shuddered in Alistair's arms. "He knew me, Ali... he knew me! And I killed him..."

Alistair pulled back and cupped Dirth's cheek in his palm. "I heard him. He wanted you to end it." Dirth closed his eyes, nodding, and allowed Alistair to lead him the rest of the way back to camp.

~~~

Dirth crouched down in the tall grass, stalking forwards silently as he approached his quarry. Suddenly, he sprang forwards, tackling Tamlen to the ground and laughing as they rolled together down the hill.

"Dirth, lethallin!" Tamlen spluttered as they landed at the base, Dirth straddling his hips. "No fair."

"All's fair in love and war!" Dirth replied in a singsong voice, pinning the taller elf's wrists to the ground triumphantly.

"And which is this?" Tamlen's voice dropped in pitch.

"A little bit of both?" Dirth leaned down and brushed his lips against Tamlen's, before darting away into the grass again.

They took turns hunting each other through the long grass until they were laughing too hard to sneak. They lay, breathless, in a tangle of limbs, happy and relaxed. Dirthail leaned up on his elbow to grin down at his Tamlen, and-

"Dirthail," Alistair said softly. "It's time to pack up camp."

Dirth blinked the sleep from his eyes and squinted up at Alistair. "I'll be out shortly," he muttered, turning away and curling in on himself. He wanted nothing more than to disappear back into the fade, back to the dream, Tamlen's arms. But there was a Blight to end.

Also posted at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39549006

[mandoalorian]

I Believe In Love [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader] — Seven: Humanity

Summary: When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person's relationship with his son. You've heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You've felt his pain and anguish and you've never been able to relate to anything more. But things don't come easy for you, and they certainly don't come easy for him either. [This series contains spoilers for WW84 and is my interpretation of what happens after the movie ends].

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, unprotected p in v, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, reader is a virgin.

Word count: 6,300>

Masterlist

Previous - Chapter Seven - Next

Max stood outside, his back pressed against his car. He closed his eyes as the morning sun warmed his skin - only it felt more like an unpleasant, burning sensation. He felt a fire of anguish rife within him. He was furious. How had he let all this happen? How had little Maxwell Lorenzano let this happen? He scrunched up his nose in disdain as a single tear slipped from his eye and rolled down his cheek. He had nobody to blame but himself, and that’s what hurt the  most. He had come so close to losing everything. He could still lose everything. You had preached to him about how Diana was symbolic of hope and that she’d never judge him, yet, Max couldn’t help but feel like she was judging him. When she told him that the consequences of his actions lay in his fate with Alistair. And in that moment, he felt so undeserving. He was a bad man who had done bad things and maybe he just wasn’t cut out to be a father. Maybe Alistair would be better off with Julianna. Maxwell found himself losing hope.

You were still inside, looking over some documents about Dolos’ dreamstone that Diana had been collecting. She explained to you that most of it had been provided by her old friend, Dr Barbara Minerva. Dr Minerva was a gemologist, according to Diana, who had looked into Romulus’ dreamstone just a few days ago. “Where is she now?” you asked Diana as your finger traced the sketch of the stone. At least you knew what exactly you were looking for. A gorgeous citrine stone with Greek scripture engraved into it.

Diana smiled faintly, but the glaze in her dark eyes were not lost on you. “She’s gone.” Diana whispered, looking into the distance. 

“Oh Diana, I’m so sorry,” you frowned, placing a gentle and comforting hand in the small of Diana’s back. “Did Max know her?”

Diana took a sharp breath. “Yes.” she said coldly, before spinning around on her heel and walking over to her desk. You wanted to prod further and find out more but you noticed how stand off-ish Diana had become over your brief mention of Max and his relationship with Barbara. You figured it might not be best to push it. At least not right now.

You hadn’t stopped thinking about Maxwell and you were aware that he had been standing outside for quite a long while. You hoped that he was okay. You sighed, taking Diana and Barbara’s research and composing it into a pile for you to take away. “I should be going then. If we want to catch the flight to Athens.” you shrugged with a caring smile. Diana glanced back at you. 

“Did my mother grant you permission to come here?” Diana asked, quirking her eyebrow.

You bit your lip nervously. “No,” you admitted. “Queen Hippolyta believed I was foolish for wanting to come here. I told her I had my calling but she didn’t care. My mother Hestia granted me a secret passage. Queen Hippolyta hasn’t been the same since you left.” 

Diana nodded knowingly before saying your name gently, almost cautiously. “My mother didn’t grant you permission to come to the world of man because you’re too powerful.” Diana informed you. Her face hardened and she had become incredibly serious. You knotted your eyebrows in bewilderment and slowly shook your head.

“I- I don’t understand.” you said weakly. Too powerful for the world of man?

“You are the daughter of Zeus and Hestia. You are a goddess,” Diana smiled, cupping your face with her hand. “I’m only a demi-God, I have half the power you have. I can be here. But to have a whole Goddess walking on this earth, utilizing her powers… you’re playing a dangerous game. I’ve read about this in ancient Amazonian mythology. It would lead to the world’s destruction.” Diana explained quietly. “I would never want to harm this world.” you reassured Diana, pulling out of her grip and narrowing your eyes in disbelief. 

“I know,” Diana hushed you. “I know you would never want to harm this world. But it’s not about what you want. It’s about the inevitable. Do you think Maxwell wanted to cause all the death and destruction? All the hate and war?”

“No of course not.” you replied.

“But he did. And now he’s… dealing with the aftermath. You might be here to help Maxwell and that’s okay. That is your duty. But you cannot stay. You must return to Themyscira once this is over with. You have to.”

“Yes but Max-” you began to protest but Diana cut you off.

“Once you fulfill your calling and bring him and Alistair together, you will have satisfied your duty as the goddess of home and hearth. You have no reason to stay, right?”

She was right. No reason to stay. But shit- you had become so attached to Max Lord and his son, you never even considered the fact you might have to leave them. It wasn’t even a ‘might’. You were going to have to leave them eventually and you didn’t have long at all. “Right,” you confirmed sadly, but trying to remain as composed as possible. “But I don’t even know how to get back to Themyscira.” you sighed.

Diana grabbed the rope of your lasso and traced the patterned ridges in between her father. “By combining both our lassos, I can create a one-way portal back home. When all this is over, you know where to find me,” Diana promised. Your heart ached. You felt nauseous. And you knew now you had to go outside and face Maxwell. You had to tell him. Your mind was racing as you wondered how he’d react to the news. “I know how you feel...” Diana said softly before looking out the window and into the sky above. “Once you’re back home, you’ll miss him. You’ll think about Max every single day. Just like I think about Steve.”

You didn’t even know how to answer, you were hurting too much. You knew Diana was only looking out for you and what was best for the world of man, but this wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t you stay? Why did you have to leave Maxwell? You picked up the papers and held them close to your chest. “I’ll see you in Athens, Diana.” was all you said, before leaving the Smithsonian.

Maxwell saw you approaching before you set eyes on him. He wiped his eyes and took a deep breath before giving you a small wave so you knew where he had parked his car. As he caught your attention, a bout of relief washed over you. He was beautiful - his hair golden under the sun and the gold rings on his fingers sparkling as the rays of light bounced off them. He made you feel safe and happy. But as you got closer to him, you began to feel afraid. Leaving him was going to be the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do.

The car ride to the airport was difficult. Maxwell hadn’t put the radio on this time, and so the journey was filled with an unwelcome silence. Every few minutes you would take a shaky exhale and try and work up the courage to tell him what Diana had told you. About how you couldn’t stay. You had to leave. But even before you said anything, you could cut the tension with a knife. He wasn’t okay and you knew it.

-----

“Flight RD270401 from Washington D.C. to Athens, Greece, is now boarding from gate 8.” echoed the airport speakers overhead. With your hand pressed against the cold window glass, you looked in awe at the airplane. It was unlike anything you had ever seen before. You looked back at Maxwell, who was pinching the bridge of his nose, talking to one of the airport employees. She was clearly saying something he had no interest in hearing. He shook his head to whatever she had told him, and he wiggled his finger at her. The conversation ended with him signing an autograph for her and then sauntering towards you.

You had managed to swindle your way past passport security thanks to your trusted lasso of Hestia, but Maxwell was still anxious you'd somehow get stuck in Athens without a passport and wouldn't be able to return to D.C. back in time for the court hearing. You tried reassuring him that everything would be alright, but he had a stubborn mind and he was already worked up from what Diana had told him earlier. That the consequence of his actions lied in the fate of his and Alistair's relationship. He knew that couldn't be good.

“She changed our one-way plane tickets to return tickets, so we have two days to get the dreamstone and then we must head back to D.C.” Maxwell informed you with a sigh, running his fingers through his hair. Only two days in Greece, and then it was back home to prepare for court. And then you had to go. He had barely spoken to you since the museum. You understood his stress and you missed hearing his sweet voice, but you didn't want to push him to talk about what happened back there if he wasn't ready.

"What did it cost you?" you asked hesitantly. 

"She just wanted an autograph and my number," Maxwell shrugged, narrowing his eyes in the direction of the airplane. He was trying to read the docking gate number. "Come on, that's our flight."

Even though Diana had clearly explained that the world had forgotten about the broadcast, he couldn’t shake his guilty conscience. It felt strange- people still approaching him and asking him for autographs, giving him attention. It only added to his feeling of shame.

Maxwell walked hurriedly and you felt like you were practically chasing after him. There was hardly a rush. The airplane had just landed. "Your number?" you asked curiously.

"So she can call me." Maxwell explained further, his voice stone cold and emotionless. His comment was abrupt and to the point. It wasn’t a big deal. She might have believed she had a chance to go on a date with Maxwell Lord, but she really didn’t, and Maxwell knew that. He had more important things going on, and besides, his mind was already unwillingly preoccupied with you. 

"Why would she want to do that?" you asked and Maxwell scoffed. He knew you weren’t accustomed to the nature of exchanging numbers and what that meant, but his frustration was increasing by the second. The thought of getting on a flight made him feel anxious and uneasy. He hadn’t been on a flight since he used the President’s chopper, Marine One, to fly to the bunker. Every little thing was reminding him of the incident and it was traumatic. Maxwell hadn’t even prepared himself for the chance of coming into contact with the dreamstone again.

"Jesus, do you have to question everything?" Maxwell snapped, abruptly halting in his footsteps and turning to you. You froze, your blood running cold as you sensed his anger. You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling timid, and ducked your head down. He shouted at you, and the ferocity in his voice made you feel small and vulnerable. "I'm sorry," Max sighed when he saw the change in your conduct. His heart sank in his chest, knowing that he was to blame for your demeanor. Just like he was to blame for everything else. "Let's just get seated, okay?"

You didn't reply, but followed him to gate 8 in silence as you queued up to get your tickets checked so you could board. Everything about this experience was brand new and awe-inspiring. You had watched many airplanes jet off into the sky and fly into the clouds above. Despite being so far away from home, you found comfort in knowing that both you and the Amazons were underneath the same sky. You had never felt so close to them.

Maxwell was truly more than happy to help you find the dreamstone. He knew it was something you needed to do, and after all, you were helping him with Alistair. You had warned him that if you didn't find the dreamstone, it could cause the world to end. The world had almost ended just a few days ago before Max had renounced his wish. It was serious. But to Max, all that mattered was Alistair. Even if you successfully destroyed the dreamstone, if he lost custody of Alistair then his life would be over. Alistair was his whole world. His only reason. He couldn't lose him. His life depended on it.

Just as you got strapped in, a flight attendant walked by. "Ah, are you two on your honeymoon?" she smiled, her blue eyes glittering. "Two seats in first class have just opened up, if you'd like." 

"Yes!" Maxwell exhaled sharply, unclipping his belt and then reaching down to your lap unclip yours and pull you up. He needed the luxury of first class. It brought him a sense of normality. 

“What’s a honeymoon?” you hissed, looking around the cabin.

“Just pretend we’re married, okay?” Maxwell hissed back before putting on a fake smile to present his charming exterior.

As the air hostess guided you to first class, she swooned over Maxwell.

“I love your infomercials,” she cooed, placing her hand on his arm and tracing the curve of his bicep. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy in your chest. “The part where you’re on a yacht and you say that thing about how you don’t need a business degree to get started is so inspiring. And sexy.” she sighed longingly, fluttering her dark eyelashes.

Before Max could reply, you grabbed his hand and intertwined his fingers with yours. He looked at you, his eyes widening slightly with shock. Maybe he was always going to be taken aback by your touch. You made him feel a way he had never felt before. 

“Yes,” you smiled leaning over to take her hand off Maxwell. “My husband is very talented.”

There was no denying the way Max’s heart raced at your words. He swore he’d never remarry after Julianna. He’d also sworn that he’d never fall in love again. But then you came into his life and things changed. For a second, he actually imagined what it would be like to marry you. He imagined a life where he could show you off on his arm. He could treat you, spoil you, kiss you all day and all night. He imagined you looking over Alistair. He had already become familiar with the maternal side of you. As his mind wandered, he imagined the possibility of you giving him some more children. He cursed himself for letting himself get carried away; lost in thoughts that could never happen.

About an hour later, you were finally in the air and looking over Diana’s documents about Dolos’ dreamstone, provided by Dr Minerva. Maxwell was slumped against the blue velveteen chair, his legs spread as he nursed a glass of whiskey and picked at some peanuts. You sighed, feeling defeated. Your mind was overcome by all this new-found knowledge about the stone and you just wanted to relax. If you could do anything, you’d curl into Maxwell’s lap and fall asleep in his strong arms. But there was one thing preying on your mind. One thing you still needed to tell him.

“How are you feeling?” you asked quietly, and Maxwell looked up at you, his chocolate brown eyes meeting yours.

“Better,” he admitted with a small smile. “Athens is very beautiful. I think you’ll like it,” Your heart warmed knowing that he was feeling better. It was probably due to his intake of alcohol but nevertheless, his anxiety had eased and that’s all that mattered. Maxwell took a deep breath and tried to repress the smirk that was threatening to play on his lips. “You’re beautiful. Come here,” he said, patting his thigh. You bit your lip and walked over to Max, sliding down and sitting in his lap. He wrapped his arm around your body and pressed a soft kiss into your neck. Whiskey always gave him a boost of confidence but nothing had ever felt so right. You belonged in his arms. You belonged with him. He dragged his tongue up your skin and pressed a kiss into your jaw, nibbling at you gently with his teeth. You hummed in delight, loving the way his lips felt against you. “I am so glad you’re here,” Maxwell admitted, looking into your eyes. “I’m so glad you came into my life. I don’t know what I’d be doing if you weren’t here. I don’t know how I’d cope.” he confessed before pressing another kiss into you.

Your blood ran cold at his words. He might not know what he’d do without you, but he’d have to learn. You couldn’t stay with him in DC no matter how much you wanted to and he was going to have to learn to accept that. You had to tell him. It was now or never.

You pulled away from his lips and smoothed your hands over his hair. You noticed the way his roots were a dark brown colour and thought about how it faded into a dirty blonde. Did he dye his hair? You remembered your vision of him when he was younger and he had dark brown hair. That was why you hadn’t recognised him as Lorenzano. You still had so many questions to ask him but so little time.

“Max...” you croaked as tears pricked your eyes. 

“Hey, what is it?” Maxwell cooed, rubbing circles into your back. You rest your head on his shoulder. You really were in love with him.

But you had to suck up your feelings. You closed your eyes. “I can’t stay,” you revealed, taking a deep breath. When Max didn’t reply, you managed to bring yourself to open your eyes and look at him, trying to judge his reaction. “Diana said I can’t stay.”

Maxwell was perplexed. He looked at you, then looked at his surroundings on the airplane and then looked back at you. “You can’t stay where? D.C.?”

“The world of man,” You sighed, playing with his hair. It was so difficult to read Maxwell’s expression. It felt like he was frozen in time. “She said I’m a goddess and I’m too powerful to stay. I could accidentally cause the world’s destruction.” you scoffed at how ridiculous Diana’s claim sounded, but deep down, you knew it made sense. She was your princess and you had to trust her, no matter what.

“But- what- how- what?” Maxwell exclaimed. He felt sick. He didn’t understand, but his stomach was in knots. There was a chance he was going to lose Alistair, and now you were going to leave him too. Maybe this is what he deserved, but he didn’t like it one bit. You had only just come into his life and you were like a blessing in disguise. Now you were going to leave?

“Max,” you whimpered, letting the tears drip down your face. “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go back home. I want to stay here with you and Alistair.” you sniffed, pressing your palm flat against his chest. Seeing you cry was pushing him to cry.

“Don’t go,” he begged, shaking his head. “There must be a way you can stay. A loophole or something.”

“I don’t think so,” you shook your head in defeat. “I wasn’t even meant to come here. Our queen denied my request but my mother granted me passage to the world of man. She shouldn’t have, but she just wanted me to complete my calling and fulfil my duty as the goddess of home and hearth.”

“Hey, we’ll figure something out okay?” Max reassured, but his expression showed anything but assurity.

“We can’t,” you sobbed. Your tears were beginning to dampen his shirt but he didn't care. He held you close and tight as if it was going to be the last time. “I have to go.” you confirmed, hating the way the words sounded as they parted your lips.

“How long do we have?” Maxwell asked you, letting a tear slip down his cheek. You gasped and quickly wiped his tear away with your thumb.

“No longer than a week. Five days, maybe. As soon as the court case is over. As soon as you gain custody of Alistair, I must go.” you informed Max, exhaling shakily as you fought for composure. Max shook his head profusely in disbelief.

“I wish we had more time.” he choked out, resting his forehead against yours, his grip around you tightening. 

You stayed in Maxwell’s arms for the rest of the journey. You’d both even fallen asleep at one point. When you landed in Athens, everything still felt bittersweet. The sky was dark and it was in the middle of the night. The resort was isolated but Maxwell was right, it was beautiful. Pearly white stars pierced the sky and small waves rippled through the turquoise tranquil waters. You followed your guide group to the hotel in silence. 

“I don’t want this to ruin our trip, or ruin our final few days together.” Maxwell whispered as you queued in the lobby for the key to your hotel room.

“Me neither,” you hummed, resting your head on his shoulder and taking his hand. “I love your hands.” you whispered back, tracing his fingers and brushing over his knuckles.

“Yeah?” he asked, his breath hitching as you brought his hand up to your lips.

“Yeah.” you confirmed.

-----

“We only have five days until this is all over.” you purred, tugging on Maxwell’s shirt and falling backwards onto the bed. You giggled when you heard the springs in the mattress go as Maxwell hovered above you. Your hands found Max’s cheeks and you looked him in the eyes.

“I’m going to miss you so much.” Maxwell admitted although his tone was low, gravely and almost dark as he planted sloppy kisses along your jaw and down your neck. He never wanted this moment to end - or any moment that he shared with you, for that matter. Nothing had changed. You still revelled in the way he kissed you and the way his touch erupted a frenzy of butterflies in your stomach.

“Me too,” you huffed, bringing your hands down to fiddle with the buttons on his shirt. “But all I know is that I want to make every second that I’m with you count. I never want to forget this, Maxwell Lord.” you smiled, pulling him down to kiss you again. He moaned as your tongues intertwined and he guided his large hands over your frame.

As you made out, you relished the way he touched you and your bodies moved together in sync. It was like they were made for each other. That Zeus had sculpted you to fit with Maxwell Lord; to be with him, guide him, and love him when he didn’t feel loved. Maxwell had always laughed off the concept of ‘soulmates’, seeing himself as nothing more than an independent, stone cold businessman. But maybe, after all this time, he was wrong. In the past week he’d learned so much about himself, and what really mattered. You were teaching him that it was okay to rely on others for comfort and affection.

You reminded yourself of the reason you were in Greece. You had to focus on obtaining the dreamstone. It was important, but with this clash of tongues and teeth and Maxwell Lord on top of you, it was easy to forget about why you had come to Athens in the first place. Sure, destroying the remaining dreamstone was important, but so was Maxwell.

“There’s something I want to know,” you huffed, drawing away from him for just a second to regain your breath. “During my time studying the world of man, I took particular interest in family and babies, probably due to me being the goddess of home and hearth. I spent a lot of time studying babies and… how they’re made. The history books describe it as beautiful. An indescribable pleasure that you know I’ve never experienced before. There are no men on Themyscira. But I want to feel it. I want to feel the pleasure and I want you to show me. Please Max. Show me.” you whispered, bucking your hips upwards and rolling yourself over his crotch. You’d thought about it a lot, maybe even just as much as he’d thought about you in that way. You already knew you trusted him, especially with something like this. 

His brown eyes turned a whole shade darker with lust as he slid his hands under your shirt.

“Are you sure?” he questioned, wanting to make absolute sure you certainly wanted this.

“I am,” you confirmed. “But only if you want to too.”

“I do,” Maxwell nodded, his lips curving into a smile. “Believe me, I really do.” 

You grinned ecstatically, kissing him again and moaning into his mouth when he squeezed your breast, just like he'd done the previous night when you were both making out in his bed. He knew you liked it. “Let me take this off,” Maxwell groaned and you nodded, stretching your arms in the air so he could pull your shirt off you. “Fuck, you're so perfect.” he whispered to himself, as he stared down at your bare chest. He leaned in and kissed between the valley of your breasts. He peppered kisses along the soft plushness and licked a stripe along your hardening nipple. As he cared for your breast with his lips, he fondled your other breast with his hand, squeezing it lovingly before switching it up again. He was so skilled at this. He knew all the right ways to make you feel good.

Soon, you began to feel that familiar fire heat up in your core. The same fire you had felt when you were kissing him in his own bed. Your new panties felt like they were soaked with your arousal as he peppered kisses down your stomach and to the hem of your pants. “How do you feel?” Max asked you, looking up with concern. He just wanted to make sure you were still okay with this. He cared about you so much.

"Nervous, but excited," you exclaimed. "Will- will it hurt?"

"It might, just a little. Might be slightly uncomfortable at first. But if it gets too much you can tell me, okay?" Maxwell reassured, kissing the lobe of your ear. "I'd never ever want to hurt you honey."

"I know," you smiled, running your fingers through his soft locks of hair. "But first, let me take care of you."

Unsure what you even meant, Maxwell doubled back. You were new to this, inexperienced, and yet he found himself intrigued by what you meant when you said 'take care'. You shuffled out from beneath him and kneeled on the mattress. You unbuttoned Maxwell's shirt and tossed it on the floor, and then unzipped his pants. As you pulled down the silver zipper, you noticed the imprint of his bulge pressed against the tight tailored pants. It was long, thick, and achingly hard, precum already beading at his tip. You subconsciously licked your lips and Maxwell chuckled over your eagerness. It was adorable. But his laughter was cut short into a choked moan as you traced the shape of it through the material, gently with your index finger. "You look so big…" you trailed off, biting your lip nervously. 

"Take off my pants and find out." Maxwell urged and you nodded your head. You pulled down his pants and his cock sprung free, bouncing against his tummy. The head was dark pink in colour and already leaking.

“Wow…” you gasped, wiping his precum and letting it wet your hand before wrapping your fingers around his length and starting to pump him. He tossed his head back and moaned wantonly, whispering your name like it was a prayer.

“You really don’t have to-” Maxwell stiffened up as you kitten-licked the tip of his cock. You let your fingers stroke the base and play with his balls as wrapped your lips around his thickness. “-I-fuck. This is your first-first time. I want to make you feel good.”

You pulled your lips off him with a pop and looked at him with doe eyes. “This feels good for me. Tastes good too.” you promised before sinking your mouth back down onto him, deeper this time. He stretched your mouth so wide your jaw began to ache and you gagged around him. You bopped your head up and down, loving the way his fingers tugged on your hair and the way he bucked his hips deeper into your throat.

“Won’t last,” Maxwell warned. “Fuck. Pull off.” he gasped for breath and you followed his instruction, removing your lips from his throbbing length. He wished he could’ve just spilled his seed down your throat but he wanted to make this as memorable as possible for you. It wasn’t just going to be a quick blowjob. You deserved more.

“How was it?” you asked, pouting your swollen lips. Maxwell leaned in and kissed you, tasting his own saltiness on your tongue.

“Perfect,” he sighed lovingly. “You’re perfect.”

Max gently pushed you down amongst the sheets and discarded the rest of your clothes so you were laying in bed completely naked. He pressed his hand on the apex of your thigh and opened up your legs. His cock jumped when he looked down at your glistening folds. You were already so wet for him and he’d hardly even touched you.

Maxwell kissed up the inside of your thighs, revelling in the softness of your skin. He knew he’d never be able to forget this. As he neared your core, your heart began to race with anticipation. Max pressed a soft kiss into your clit and you let out a gasp that you didn’t even realise you were holding back. You felt Max smirk against you and he separated your folds with his two thumbs. Now that you were completely spread open for him, he began to lick you up and down, his cock twitching as he tasted you. He’d eaten the widest variety of expensive desserts in his lifetime, but you were by far the most delicious thing he’d devoured. Everytime his tongue flicked upwards against your clit, your entire body would involuntarily quiver. He loved it. He loved watching you become putty under his touch. 

He decided to focus more of his mouth on your clit and began to quickly flick his tongue over your bundle of nerves before sucking on it. His moans sent vibrations straight through you and he noticed how your hole began to clench over nothing. He was desperate to fill you up. To feel you. But he had to prep you first. He didn’t stop with the licking, but he did nudge a finger over your hole. You pushed your hips closer to him, wanting more.

“I’m going to finger you now, is that okay?” Maxwell asked, pulling off you. His lips shone with your slick and you swore he had never looked so beautiful.

“Yes please.” you whimpered.

“If it gets too much, tell me.” Maxwell whispered before reattaching his lips to your pussy and poking his index finger into your entrance. He kissed your clit one last time before pulling away and pushing his finger deep into you. He flushed pink as your soft walls tightened around his finger, and he couldn’t help but imagine how it would feel if he replaced his finger with his cock. He watched you in awe, thrusting his finger in and out of you, experimenting and curling it upwards until he was satisfied that he’d located your g-spot. “Sweet girl,” he moaned, watching you intently as you brought your free hand down to rub your clit as he fingered you. “I wish you could see how pretty you look.”

You moaned something incoherent but Maxwell felt his heart race as he took in your appearance. You were a sight he could never forget - all spread out for him, your back arched in pleasure. He pushed his middle finger inside of you, as well as his index finger, and you squealed with pleasure as he stretched you open.

“Oh Max, oh fuck Max.” you whined as obscene wet noises filled the room. He loved the way you said his name. He always had. This whole experience felt like a dream come true.

“So fucking beautiful.” he growled before ducking his head back in between your thighs and continuing to eat you out. With the combination of his tongue and fingers, it wasn’t long at all until your climax washed over you.

Maxwell pulled off you and reached down to stroke his own cock which was achingly hard, desperate for any kind of relief. “I want you inside of me.” you begged, reaching out to pull Max on top of you.

Maxwell leaned over you, propping himself up on his elbows and you shivered as his cock nudged against your entrance. He rolled his hips up and down, his tip rubbing against your folds. He was teasing. You grabbed onto his shoulders and dug your nails into his skin. “Please Max,” you panted. “Make love to me.”

Maxwell moaned at your words and pressed a quick peck to your soft lips before obliging and pushing himself into you.

"How does that feel?" Maxwell murmured, his breath fanning over your neck as he sat himself deep inside of you. You could feel every vein and ridge of his cock as waves of pleasure jolted through your body. You knew that the tales had described intercourse as pleasurable but you never imagined it could feel so good.

"I feel so full," you gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as your walls adjusted to his length. Max knew the second he started moving he wouldn’t be able to last long. He’d imagined this so much. He’d gone so long without sex. And you were so fucking perfect. "Move, please."

"Ngh— fuck, are you sure?" Maxwell asked, giving your breasts a gentle squeeze. You nodded and Max doubled out slightly before pushing himself back in with a wanton groan. He felt your cunt clench around him. "So fucking tight." he whispered. You bit your lip, wondering what it meant to be ‘tight’ and hoping he was enjoying it as much as you were.

"Is that okay?" You asked, holding onto his bicep for support as he pushed a few shallow thrusts into you.

"More- more than ‘okay’ honey. You’re amazing." He mumbled, his eyes snapping shut. You gasped as you felt every perfect ridge and vein rub against the inside of your walls. "You feel so perfect, sweet girl."

Max brought his hand down to your cunt and began to circle your clit with his thumb, mirroring your own previous actions. The pleasure flooded through your body and you arched your back as he hit your sweet spot. "Mmm," you couldn't even find words. You found your toes curling and your mouth slack as he throbbed inside of you. His fingers worked at you like magic and it wasn't long until your legs began to involuntarily shake. Max could feel your oncoming high too, when your pussy walls squeezed his cock, aching to milk him for all he had. 

"Are you close baby girl?" Maxwell asked, his thumb speeding up and his thrusts becoming deeper and harder. “Oh you are, aren’t you?”

"Maaaax," you groaned, feeling your juices drip down his manhood as he fucked you faster, his balls slapping against your cunt.

"I'm close," He warned, gently biting down on your shoulder. "I'm going to count down from three and- and I want you to let go. Relax. Cum with me." Max ordered and you nodded your head against his sticky, sweaty skin.

"O-okay," you gasped.

"Three, two, one- fuck!" Maxwell exclaimed when your body limped in his arms and your pussy contracted around him, twitching as you reached your climax. He spilled his salty seed inside of you, painting your walls just like he'd painted the bathroom tiles when he'd masturbated over the thought of you previously.

“Oh my- Max, Max, Max,” you chanted as he slowly softened inside you before pulling out. You whimpered at the loss of his fullness and Maxwell rolled off you. You both spent a few moments to regain your breath and you felt his cum leak out of you. You curled up into his tan chest and pressed a kiss into his pink lips. “Thank you Max.” you whispered with gratitude, bumping your nose with his.

He was so in love with you, there was no question about it. If he could, he’d spend the rest of his life doing that. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. The thought of you leaving him was eating Max alive. Maxwell wrapped his arm around you and held you tight, just like he’d done so on the airplane. He wanted to tell you that he loved you, but if you were leaving, it might just make things worse. He leaned over to the nightstand and switched off the lamp.

“Goodnight honey.” he whispered as the room became enveloped with darkness.

“Goodnight Max.”

Taglists - let me know if you wish to be added!

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja190 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon @cheekygeek05 @mrschiltoncat

I Believe In Love: @thebloodrobin @greatvaluedazzler @bxxbxy @marydjarin @the-feckless-wonder @typicalnerd98 @biharryjames @thwiso @pedrolorian @julieteagk @starsandmando @kishie8 @supernaturalcat7 @depressedchillipepper @galaxypox @cocastyle @welcometothepedroverse @galactic-rhi @honestlystop @walkerchick007 @winchesterxxi @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @why-cant-i-hold-all-my-husbanda @criminalmind1927 @seasonschange-butpeopledont @lola-max-sugar @thesadvampire @wonder-jedi @eternallyvenus @way-too-addicted-to-anime @spacedaddydinn @fandommastermind @persephonequeenofthedead​ @computeringturtle @skullchik89 @ashamed23 @honimello​ @jaa1682-27​ @savannah-elliott​ @drinkingwhileblogging​ @tanyaherondale​ @vonschweetz​

[tryingmybestpls]

Home Is Wherever I’m With You

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Reader

Summary: The reader cares a lot about Alistair, which Maxwell loves.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: bad writing, disgustingly sweet

Y/N could see the almost immediate look of disappointment on Alistair's face as his mother helped him out of the car. It's a face she's seen dozens of times before, each and every time he was promised that his father was going to be the one to pick him up. No matter how big her smile was, no matter what she had planned for the two of them to do until Max got home, Y/N could never get that look off of Alistair's face.

She couldn't blame him. She would probably be disappointed too if she was in his shoes.

"Hey Alistair!" Y/N greets him happily, a huge smile stretched across her face as his mother guides him towards her. Alistair gives her a small smile, his thumbs hooked around his backpack straps. Y/N's hand immediately moves to pat his back, like she's trying to apologize for his father's absence with the action.

Y/N takes his suitcase from his mother as Alistair moves to stand beside her, teetering back and forth on his feet. Small talk between Y/N and Max's ex-wife is kept to a minimum, both of them being polite and cordial. She gives Alistair a kiss goodbye before she all but rushes back to her car and the man waiting inside.

"I'm sorry your dad couldn't meet us. He couldn't get away from work." Y/N breaks the silence as the car peels away, leaving behind a cloud of dust. She didn’t like talking to Alistair like he was a child. Y/N always thought it was demeaning when she was his age, so she doesn’t do it now. She leads him towards the house that she shares with Max, continuing to speak, "However he is going to meet us for dinner."

"He is?" Alistair perks up, looking up at her as the two of them walk into the house. Y/N smiles down at him, nodding. His smile stretches from ear to ear as he follows her towards his bedroom. Her heels echo loudly in the halls as both of them go deeper into the house. Y/N knows that he can find his way to the room by himself, but she enjoys their time together, only wanting to make him feel comfortable.

"Yup. He even pinky promised." She tells him as she turn the light on in the room, setting down the suitcase. Y/N decides to leave out the fact that she had practically threatened Max in order to make sure he would actually meet the two of them at the restaurant.

Max is a wonderful dad-which is something that he needs to be constantly reminded of. Y/N doesn't think she has ever seen such a caring paternal figure-she certainly didn't have one. Maxwell was trying to build an empire for his son and because of it he was sometimes more focused on business than on said son. To her boyfriend, his absence was justifiable since he was doing it all for Alistair. Of course, it was hard for Alistair to understand the whole situation. The kid just wanted to see his dad and didn't understand why his father was always so busy.

Enter Y/N.

Ever since Maxwell introduced her to Alistair, she's made sure to try to fill in that gap that her boyfriend creates when he is gone. She isn't trying to be his parent, no nothing like that. Y/N just keeps him company and keeps him busy so he isn't think about his dad not being there. Being the CEO of her family's company, its not like it is particularly hard for Y/N to get time off. Everyone in the company knows that every other weekend she takes a half-day on Friday in order to meet Max's ex-wife back at the house she shares with Max. Since Y/N spends her free time during the week planning what her and Alistair would do, the weekends were never boring. While the time with Y/N didn't completely make up for the fact that his father wasn't there, at least Alistair was happy.

"Hey how'd your math test go this week?" Y/N questions, walking a little further into Alistair's bedroom. He had full range to decorate the room, so it was fairly clear that the room belonged to a little boy. Star Wars bedding donned the bed, toys were practically pouring out the wooden toy box, and children's books filled a few shelves. Alistair almost immediately shrugged off his backpack, zipping it open so quickly that Y/N thought he was going to rip the zipper off its tracks. He dug around his backpack for a moment before pulling out a piece of paper, holding it out to her. Y/N smiles as she takes it, seeing the large red numbers on the front of the test.

A perfect one hundred percent.

"Alistair, this is amazing! You want to put it on the fridge or should we bring it to dinner and show your father?" She asks, watching as Alistair thinks it out. Maxwell is going to be so proud-well he is always proud of Alistair, but this-this was something to celebrate.

"Can we bring it with us?" He replies, to which she grins and nods. Handing him back the paper, Y/N unzips his suitcase in order to help him unpack a little faster.

"Of course, kid. I think this definitely deserves some ice cream."

-

As soon as he entered the restaurant, Maxwell felt his shoulders relax a bit. Leaving his coat with the coat check clerk, he made his way through the crowded restaurant, moving towards a separate, more private area of the restaurant. One great thing about his girlfriend belonging to a well established wealthy family is that they never had to make a reservation for any restaurant, although it didn't stop Y/N from making one every single time.

He can hear Alistair's laugh ring out as he gets nearer and nearer to the table. By the way Y/N's hands were moving, she was in the middle of telling a story-a hilarious one with how much his son is laughing in response to it. Max grins, overjoyed to see the two of them getting along so well. He had been afraid when he had first introduced his son to her, worried that they wouldn't get along. Now he was wondering what he was so afraid of.

"Dad!" Alistair cheerfully exclaims, cutting Y/N off mid-sentence as he caught sight of his father, quickly getting out of his chair in order to run over to his father. Y/N twisted in her seat in order to see, immediately standing when her eyes landed on her boyfriend. And while part of Max wanted to lightly scold Alistair for reacting like this in the middle of restaurant, he couldn't help put hug his son tightly, pressing a kiss against his temple.

"My son! I've missed you so much." Max replies happily as he pulls away, studying his child as if he hadn’t seen him two weeks ago. Alistair looks up at his father as the man continues, "I swear you're getting taller and taller every time I see you!"

"I told him he's growing like a beanstalk." Y/N says with a grin as she walks over to them. Maxwell smiles right back at her, his smile only growing when her hand rests on Alistair's back, which causes his son to look up at her with a big smile on her face. Y/N playfully ruffles his hair before looking back at Max, "Why don't we sit down, yeah?"

"Yeah." Max responds, leaning over and pressing his lips against her cheek as soon as Alistair's back was turned. Y/N had a strict rule about PDA around Alistair. She never wanted him to feel uncomfortable or that his father wasn't focused only on him. It was all the little things see did to make sure Alistair felt comfortable and loved that made Max love her a million times more. His hand resting on the small of her back, guiding her back towards the table. Max pulls her chair out for her before moving to sit down himself.

"So did you guys have a great day today?" Maxwell asks as he reaches for his glass of ice water. Y/N glances at Alistair, smiling sweetly.

"I got my math test back today." Alistair announces, looking at his father. Maxwell's eyes flicker between his son and watching his girlfriend open her black Hermès Kelly bag. Not so slyly, Y/N hands Alistair his test under the table. Alistair takes the test, looking at his father with a fairly serious face before holding the paper out to him. Maxwell looks at both of them, his blonde eyebrows knitting together as he takes the test from his child.

Y/N and Alistair watch Max's face as his eyes scam the test. It takes him a few minutes to realize that his son had gotten a perfect score. As soon as he does, a huge smile stretches across his face as he looks at his son and girlfriend. They were grinning from ear to ear.

"Good job, Alistair! I knew you were going to ace it!" Max says cheerfully, how proud he is of his son as clear as day. Y/N reaches her hand towards Max, resting it on the table.

"I told him that this definitely deserves some ice cream." Y/N informs him, her hand pulling away to pick up her glass of wine. Maxwell snapped his fingers, pointing at her as she sips her drink.

"It does! That's an amazing idea, Y/N. What do you say, Alistair? Would you like to get some ice cream after dinner?" Max asks, his hand reaching out towards his girlfriend. She smiles and puts her hand on top of his, her fingers intertwining with his. The two of them look at Alistair, watching as he nods enthusiastically.

-

"You're too good to us." Maxwell murmurs to her later that night, kissing her forehead sweetly. In the dim lighting of their bedroom, he watches as a small smile blooms on her face.

"I like taking care of you two." Y/N replies, her hand moving to cup his cheek. Her thumb sliding against his cheekbone as she continues, “Gives me something to look forward to, something to come home to.”

Maxwell leans into her hand, studying her face in the moonlight that’s streaming in through the cracks of the curtains. He smiles at her, the skin around his eyes wrinkling. Max felt warm all over, felt at ease. Felt at home.

Y/N had taken them both into her home and gave them a place to call their own-something Max has never truly had. Max doesn’t think he’s ever been so loved or if he’s ever been this in love with someone. She never made Max feel bad over the fact that she paid for most things, she just told him not to worry about it because had cash to spare. Y/N didn’t even care that Maxwell himself was living a lie by only playing the part of a successful business man. She made his son feel comfortable, had gone out of her way to make sure Alistair never awkward or unhappy around her.

Y/N didn’t care for his son in order for Max to like her more. No, Y/N actually cared for Alistair. If Alistair told her something that he liked, she made sure to commit it to memory. If he told her that he had a play or an assembly, Y/N made sure both her and Max were in the audience. At times, Max thought that Y/N knew his son better than he did.

“He likes you, you know. You always worry about him liking you and he does.” Maxwell tucks a stand of hair behind his girlfriend’s ear. Y/N’s smile grows as his arm wraps around her, pulling her closer, “You’re good at this. Being a mom.”

“You’re being awfully kind. I’m just trying my best.” She responds, feeling her cheeks grow hot. Maxwell’s hand moves to lift her chin gently so that he can kiss her. The kiss is soft and as sweet as syrup, silencing her thoughts.

“And your best is better than most. And I’m grateful. I’m really grateful for you.” Max says as soon as they pull away, his hand sliding up and down her side. Her smile grows in the moonlight as she moves to rest her forehead against his chest. Y/N doesn’t respond because Max knows how she feels. She’s told him time and time again how she’s felt, told him how much both him and Alistair have changed her life for the better. Told him how much happier she is with them in there life.

And even when Alistair climbs into their bed at two in the morning, announcing that he had a nightmare and asking if he can sleep with them, Y/N gives him a sleepy smile, patting the space she made in between her and Max. Her boyfriend-who is half asleep-opens his eyes enough to see his son curled up closer to Y/N, her arm wrapped around Alistair almost protectively.

[cecesunshine]

hello! can i get a scenario with tadashi with prompt 33 "you don't know how much you mean to me"? thank you <3

Hello! Sorry for taking so long! A lot of things happened in the last month so I decided to prioritize my mental health and take care of myself. Anyway, I hope you like it!

MASTERLIST

Easy | TADASHI NAKANO

Summary → A lot of things are hard with Tadashi Nakano, except one. Loving him.

Pairing → Tadashi Nakano x Scholar

Warnings → Swearing

Word Count → 1057

Prompts used → 33. You don’t know how much you mean to me.

A/N → English is not my first language, so I’m sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn’t make sense!

When Scholar first met Tadashi, they quickly realized how complicated he was and immediately understood why he was the way he was. Tadashi was the student body president, had the highest GPA in the school, he was Lady Arlington’s right arm, and was also the heir of Nakano Corp, so he was always being pressured.

That pressure came either from his parents or he would involuntarily put himself under. He had to be the best.

After breaking his shell and making their way into his heart, Scholar witnessed how vulnerable and intense Tadashi could be. Nothing with him was easy. It seemed like if things were easy for him, that he was somehow neglecting his duties or as he liked to call it “being lazy”.

Scholar had already picked up some of his habits. He would set unrealistic goals for the day and then be frustrated that he wasn’t able to do everything and he would over plan things that didn’t need planning at all. Tadashi needed things to be under his control, all the time.

It was math class, and Scholar noticed that Tadashi’s seat was empty which immediately worried them. Scholar reached for their phone, sending a message to Tadashi asking if he was okay and he quickly responded to their partner’s text.

“I’m tired. Decided to ditch class today to get some extra sleep. I’ll ask Karolina for her notes later.”

“Scholar, is there something you want to show the rest of the class?” Ms. Rodriguez called her student, making them embarrassed.

Scholar lowered their head, not wanting to draw more attention. For the rest of the class, the only thing they could think about was Tadashi. Even when he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, Tadashi never skipped class, which meant that something really bad happened.

As soon as the bell rang, Scholar grabbed their things and left the classroom as fast as they could. Making their way to the crowd of students that were roaming through the hallways, they finally left the building, going in direction of the dormitories.

Already in the dormitories, Scholar knocked on Tadashi and Alistair’s room, waiting for an answer. Nothing. They leaned against the door and put their ear on it, in an attempt to hear if there was noise coming from the other side. Still nothing.

Scholar looked both ways to see if someone was in the hallway and sneakily entered the room without permission. Lucky for them, the door was unlocked.

The only thing lighting that room was the light that peaked through the blinds. Scholar walked to the window, opening the blinds a little so they could get a better view of the room. With a now brighter room, Scholar saw Tadashi lying in bed along with multiple books and papers that he was probably working on.

“Poor thing, how long has it been since you were able to sleep for more than 4 hours?" Scholar muttered, as they started to grab the stuff in their partner’s bed and putting them in his desk.

“Scholar?” Tadashi whispered as he rubbed his eyes and tried to get up.

“Don’t mind me baby, rest. You need it.” Scholar said, stopping their boyfriend from leaving the bed.

“At least lay with me, please.” He begged, making puppy eyes. How could Scholar say no to him?

Taking off their shoes, Scholar lay with him. Being the big spoon, Tadashi grabbed their lover’s waist, keeping them closer to them. It felt peaceful, he liked it.

“Dashi.” Scholar said, turning face to face with their boyfriend. “We need to talk.”

“Of course love, whatever you want.” He replied, now caressing Scholar’s face.

“I want to know what’s bothering you. You skipped class, you never do that.”

“Nothing’s bothering me, I was just tired, I told you.”

“Tadashi, I’ve seen you drink 6 cups of coffee before class because you spent the night awake writing an essay. Something’s bothering you.”

Tadashi liked how smart their partner was, how they knew him and all of his little quirks. Having such a dedicated partner meant that he couldn’t lie to them, they wouldn’t fall for it. He sighed, deciding to be direct with them.

“Ok. There’s this thing that’s been bothering me for the last two weeks.” He confessed, closing his eyes, trying to avoid looking Scholar in the eyes.

“Two weeks? Tadashi, why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped!”

“I know, but you already have so much going on and I didn’t want to bother you with my problems.” Tadashi looked at them.”And it’s not like you can help.”

“Tadashi, what happened?” Scholar asked anxiously, hoping this suspense would end soon.

“My father called me and we had a big fight. He said that if I keep making mistakes and being lazy that I would never be able to be the CEO of Nakano Corp. I know my father is an idiot but I know he’s right.” Tadashi got up of the bed, walking to his mirror. “God, I look like shit.”

“You look perfect as always.” Scholar followed their boyfriend, hugging him from behind. “And your father’s wrong, there is no capable of being the head of the company than you.”

“I’m just...scared.” Tadashi whispered, as it was the most obscene thing he had ever said.

“Scared of what?”

“Scared that even if I try my hardest I still won’t be good enough.” He revealed, glancing at his partner. “Good enough for my parents, for you, for everybody.”

“Oh Tadashi. You are so much more than enough. “ Scholar reached from his hand, grabbing it softly.

“I hope you’re right, I hope you’re right.” He got close to them and whispered again, now smiling. “I just want to be the best for you. You deserve the best.”

“You are the best I could ever want, Tadashi.” Scholar got close to him, kissing him gently.

“You don't know how much you mean to me.” Tadashi said. “You see, when I first saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful person I had ever seen.”

Scholar felt their cheeks get warm and when they saw that their boyfriend was ready to tease them for blushing, they grabbed his face and pressed their lips to his, kissing him again.

Nothing was easy with Tadashi.

Except loving him.

Loving him was easy.

[acemapleeh]

for the head canon asks! can we do five, eight, twenty seven, twenty-six and fourteen? your choice of characters!

 Deciding to do one question for each of the UK brothers with Ireland as a plus one.

Link to original questions

5. Describe your muse’s worst nightmare.

Alistair

Being lost.

Is it being forgotten? His entire heritage and self just... gone? The mark he left on the land washed away? His language is already dying and those moments where the words die on his tongue frighten him. Those quiet evenings where one moment his hands are whittling and working, he thinks too hard, and he freezes. He can’t remember. The glasses resting on his nose are heavy.

A crowd. He doesn’t know a single face and they’re all standing too close. He doesn’t want to be pushed along with them. He’s well over six-feet tall and built like a bear, he shouldn’t be a faceless nothing.

He was talking to the Fae and he’s been stuck in the Court for who knows how long. They’re laughing as he’s trying to navigate their halls, hiding the panic rising in his chest.

The woods are too vast. He can’t see the stars under the dark cover of branches and leaves.

The fog is swallowing him.

Forsaken.

8. What keeps your muse up at night? 

Arthur

Did he leave the kettle on? Did he lock the front door? Was he certain he put away his gardening sheers back in the shed? Where did he leave Matthew’s Christening papers? Did he ever reply back to the message Francis sent him? Was he sure the kettle was off? That would mean the range was left on. No, wait, when did he use it last? Was the last cup of tea he made with the electric kettle? He best go downstairs and check to see everything was in order.

The range was off, the kitchen silent. No, it wasn’t because the sink faucet was dripping. He fixes it because he knows the noise will keep him awake. The front door is locked but blast it all, what about the back door? He checks that now but he remembers his sheers might have been left out. He slips on his wellies and goes into the shed, finding everything in their proper place. He locks the backdoor and goes to his study. Matthew’s papers are in the maple, handmade cabinet and so are the other children’s. He’s back in his room and gives a glance to his phone. He told Francis he would see him in the morning at seven that evening.

He lays back down under the covers.

Did he lock the door to the shed?

14. Does your muse have a “victory song” and if so, what is it?

Seán

He loves the direction music has been going throughout the 20th century. The blending of tradition Celtic folk with modern themes and instruments fill him with pride. He's a young thing, having no where near the experience his siblings have been through but there's still a deep rooted pride of all his people have gone through.

He sings alongside his people at their victories whether it’s a ballad, old shanty, or something modern and new. His voice carries throughout the whole room, words fast and never stumbling over each other. Seán, for being a little bit of a shut in and can get flustered quite easily, is quite wiling to hit the streets and pubs when joy needs to be shared.

He’s not afraid to bellow out Irish rebel songs, but really, the Troubles have left him in a whirlwind. His whole existence has really. It didn’t matter what he wanted to be. It didn’t matter if he even wanted to exist in the first place. His voice could sing for whatever side but it would never truly be heard.

Before he can get too deep in these heavy thoughts, he’ll be singing The High Kings, The Wakes, U2, and The Irish Rovers.

26. Does your muse have any trophies?

Morgan

Anytime Ireland has beat England at anything, especially football. They're incredibly prideful and competitive and gladly display their victories; they will tell you the whole story if you ask for it, especially if Arthur is there forced to listen for the umpteenth time. The 1949 England vs Ireland football match? That's right on the mantle alongside the pamphlet and jersey they wore.

This goes beyond literal trophies from the past century. This “tradition” of theirs extends far back into their childhood as they have always been competitive against their brothers. Little bets and gambles, never afraid to back down from a challenge. They have keepsakes of rebellions and fights, things that aren’t conventionally thought of as trophies. Morgan holds these victories to their heart. Even things that might seem a little much or sentimental. There's a fancy river stone on the mantle in a little wood and glass box from when they beat Dylan in a race as children.

Beating Alistair at some of his own Highland games? Absolutely priceless. They're holding onto the tartan they wore that day for luck.

27. If your muse was given the opportunity to go sky diving, would they?

Dylan

He loves heights and the feeling of the wind on his face. Dylan can stand on the edge of his cliffs and stare out to sea or land for hours, simply thinking. Hell, he's one of the few people who actually say a windy day is his favorite, where he feels the most creative and contemplative. Has he thought of jumping off those cliffs? Has he had these thoughts as he stands on his mountains how it would feel to fall?

His grip tightens on the safety bar.

He doesn't share the feeling Alfred experiences when he flies. The rush of falling from a plane, of tumbling in open sky- it almost terrifies him. He still wants to feel somewhat grounded in flight.

His toes never teeter too close to the edge and he'll brace the person next to him if a strong gust catches him off guard.

When he flies openly on a dragon's back, there's a lot of trust to be shared that if he does fall, he'll be caught. He knows the death wouldn't be permanent but he'd rather avoid having his body mend itself back together. You could go on about the safety of skydiving, how nothing compares but he feels just a little too old these days to try it.

[secret-ssociety]

Behind the scenes

Pairing(s): Aaron Tveit x Reader, Les Mis (2012) cast x Reader

Warnings: This is just fluff. Like one curse

Summary: It is never intended for Enjolras and Eponine to fall in love in the original story, but a lot of things can happen when the cameras are turned off

A/N: I know everyone is waiting for more of the Let Me Down series but I have wanted to do this for a long time bc I am utterly in love with this man and I've always said I don't want to just write Peter Parker's stuff. Might make this several parts, who knows, I like things with parts.

masterlist

requests are open!!

For the first time in the whole day, silence fell upon the set of Les Mis, being only vaguely interrupted by the quiet chatter of everyone else who, unlike you, still had energy to talk. It's not like it was your fault, though, you had no idea of how much running around implied to play Eponine.

Huddled in a quiet corner of what had been built to be the Café Musain, you pushed your knees against your chest and hid your face between them, hoping to catch some rest before Tom decided he wanted to do a scene again. Was it maybe two in the morning? Three? You didn't even know anymore, you weren't allowed to carry a watch around your wrist and your phone was charging in your trailer, but the last time you had checked it was midnight and that had been a few hours ago.

Doing a movie, you had come to learn in your first few days of filming, was quite different from putting up a show. Interacting with your surroundings, going over scenes and even directing your eyes to a certain place while saying your lines was a world away from your common place on stage. You'd had to repress a loud squeak on your first day on set when you saw just how real everything looked, and when you started to try on your garments... you might as well have been a street urchin on Paris, 1832.

A small finger touched your shoulder timidly, waking you up from your fragile sleep and making you lift your head from its place. Your eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the light and you even had to squint a little to recognize Daniel standing next to you, looking just as tired, but with a small flame of caffeine dancing in the back of his eyes. Who the fuck gave the kid coffee? You wondered.

"How long do you think they'll keep us here?" he asked sitting next to you. From all your cast mates, Daniel was probably the first one you had grown fond of, but then again, so had everyone.

"Maybe not much longer, unless they want us to be here at noon tomorrow," you answered raising an eyebrow. Being the youngest person on the whole set, you could tell he was trying to hold his own like the adults, drinking coffee and doing his best to stay awake.

The problem with that, you knew, was that caffeine reacted differently on kids and adults: when an adult drinks coffee, it gives them energy for a long period of time, the caffeine is distributed in order to serve the body for good while. When a child drinks coffee, on the other hand, the caffeine gives them a rush of adrenaline that gets them jumping up and down and running circles around the adults, very much like Daniel was doing a while ago, thus burning all the energy they had acquired as fast as they had engorged it.

"You want to rest for a minute?" you asked him, stretching your legs so that he could rest his head on them. He shook his head tiredly, but didn't put up a fight when you grabbed his shoulder and started to lay him down.

Softly, you caressed his hair, while carefully trying to undo the tangles the dirt had made onto his hair to give him that street gamine I-live-in-the-elephant-of-the-Bastille look. In a matter of seconds, he was fully asleep, snoring quietly against the fabric of your skirt.

You heard some of the boys approaching, laughing loudly with cups of steaming coffee on their hands, and were quick to lift your finger up to your lips, to let them know of the resting boy that would be quickly awaken by their laughs. They apologized in whispers, handed you the cup they had brought for you and sat around you.

"Helena is trying to convince them to let us go to the hotel," Alistair commented, although he didn't look tired at all, more like he was amused by everyone else's exhaustion.

You sighed in relief against the cup, which was held close to your lips, making the steam hit your face in a warmth that made you aware of how cold your nose was. Only one gulp of the bitter liquid was enough to warm the blood flowing through your veins and take you back to life, you could open your eyes properly and the first the landed on was one of the most distinctive of your cast mates: Aaron Tveit.

Was there something special about him that made you think of his full name instead of just the first? Yeah, everything. He was the embodiment of the Enjolras Victor Hugo had wrote, the one that had been nicknamed Apollo by his friends. Maybe it was the way he held himself, somehow taller than everyone else, with that revolutionary fire in his eyes and walking around the set like he was actually going to get the people to build a barricade.

Wherever he happened to exist, you couldn't help but feel the presence of an olden god amongst mortals, the time go slower and light to travel in a bliss. There was just something so ethereal about him...

"He's talent, isn't he?" Alistair commented, having followed the direction of your eyes. "Among other things," Eddie joked, perhaps having caught on on the repressed smitten nature of your gaze. Stubbornly, you rolled your eyes.

As if saved by the bell, your director announced that everyone was allowed to go and get some rest, under the condition that you had to be back the next day before lunch. You were so tired, you almost forgot you were on your costume, being remembered by Eddie when you walked straight to the exit.

Up until that day, you had followed you stylist's skincare routine religiously every day after finishing filming, but once you found yourself in your sweatpants and Alistair's sweater, you simply poured water in your face and wiped all the makeup away with a paper towel.

Outside of your trailer, you found at least half of the Amis waiting for you to go grab some pizza while forming a wall to shield a newly caffeinated Daniel from your accusatory eyes. "I just left my cup unattended for a second!" George said quickly. You didn't know if you should laugh or yell at them, but you decided you were too tired to do either, so you simply took his hands and walk with the boys to the minivans the studio had hired for your transportation.

Eating pizza after having barely washed the makeup off of your face and only having a few hours to sleep after? You knew you were going to break out, but that was a tomorrow's problem.

Perhaps it was the magic that gravitated around Aaron that made you look back to see him, walking several feet behind the lot of you and clearly immersed on his thoughts. What you did next wasn't exactly a conscious decision, but it felt as natural as if it were.

"Hey, Tveit," you smiled, stopping before him. He looked surprised for a second, since he hadn't heard you approach him, but then smiled softly at you.

"Hello, Y/L/N," he said back, looking at you with those piercing eyes of him.

"We're going to grab a bite, wanna come?" You asked with a bright smile, one so cute that made it hard for him to say no.

"I don't know, it's late..." he said with half a smile.

"Did you know that pizza wasn't invented until the late half of the 18th century," you said, persistently, making him raise an eyebrow at the random fact, "that means all of our characters died without having ever eaten pizza. Shouldn't we, in order to honor them, do the things they never got to do?"

Aaron tried as hard as he could to fight back a smile at your argument. He had heard from the other guys about your occurrences and funny yet charming way with words, but he still hadn't had a chance to delight himself with it all too much. Maybe you were both too busy, maybe he wasn't as good as he liked to think to break the ice and Alistair had beat him to it.

He was practically convinced already, but still you added, "come on, Enjolras is still going to be here tomorrow morning... er, today a little less morning." You corrected checking the time on your wrist watch.

He was tired and not really hungry, but sill he nodded and followed you to the exit, where the rest of your friends cheered upon his joining.

Thankfully, the place Fra Fee knew was not too far away from the hotel, because none of you would have managed to walk too much after the day you'd had. Pulling a couple of tables together with the help of a waitress who pretended not to be a little starstruck, all of you sat down and ordered. You personally tried to ignore the way Eddie gave you his sit so that you would end up sat next to Aaron.

After ordering three large pizzas and some lemonade, and having grudgingly remembered that you couldn't order a beer or anything of the sort, you resumed your chattery. You soon found that, while you weren't the only theatre actress on the room, you were the only one who had never been on a film before. Still, that didn't mean your previous work had gone unnoticed.

"I was really excited to meet Y/N," Eddie commented on Daniel's side, "because I went to see her in The Phantom of The Opera, in London and I was" he made the gesture of his head blowing up, making you laugh.

"Yes, I knew I had seen you somewhere! You're Christine Daaé!" George exclaimed, interrupting the bite he was about to give to his pizza.

"Didn't you say on the first table reading that your dream role is Esmeralda, from the Hunchback?" Aaron perked up, making you blush a little.

"Esmeralda, Christine and Eponine," Alistair numbered, only giving you time to nod, "are you planning on becoming the Holy Trinity of French Theater?"

"I'll be able to say the Holy Trinity of French Theater died in my arms!"

You almost spilled your lemonade at the exclamation, unable to contain your laughs, very much like everyone else on the table. You didn't mean for your face to be as red as it was in that moment, but you couldn't help it when everyone seemed to be so interested in your past work. Despite attention being your line of work, you didn't know how to handle it that good.

It was when Daniel's adrenaline burnt off, as you had predicted, and he was found too tiresd to even keep his head up that you came back to the hotel, with the quiet company of Aaron, who had also offered to take the young boy back to his room. You were both in silence, though it was not an awkward one, it just wasn't necessary to talk to enjoy the other's company.

"We're getting a cow," he said suddenly, when you were approaching the entrance of the hotel.

"What?" You asked with a confused smile.

"We're getting a cow, on the set, tomorrow," he clarified grinning, "she will be there for the scenes of the barricade."

"Why would a cow be on a barricade?" You questioned with a laugh, opening the door for Aaron, since he was carrying Daniel, and receiving a little thank you in return. "Not that I'm complaining."

He laughed in return and followed you to the elevator, making sure neither the young boy nor the jacket he had put over him fell from his embrace. The cow thing had just been to start conversation and be able to ask what he really wanted to know, although he was a little pumped up about the cow.

"Do you want to do what Alistair said?" He asked curiously, "About being the Holy Trinity of French Theater, it is."

"I had never thought about it that way, but it sounds quite nice," you answer thoughtfully. "Though, I believe I would have to play Eponine on a stage, rather than a set to really earn that title."

"You're not liking movie making so far?" He asked somewhat amused, specially when you whipped your head to look at him with wide eyes.

"No! That's not what I mean," you talked so fast you nearly stumbled through your words, but the kindness on his eyes made you sigh and calm down. "This has been amazing so far and I would never underestimate the huge effort it takes to make one of these. I mean, I've only been doing this for a couple days and I'm already beyond exhaustion. And yet it has been wonderful, the set and the preparation and just seeing all the work it implies is... unbelievable."

You knocked three time on the door, to see Daniel's mother not two seconds later. Aaron had been worried that maybe she would be concerned and even a little mad at how late her son was coming back, but you had been texting her throughout the extra hours of shooting and to let her know you were going to take him to eat something before coming back to the hotel.

She kindly thanked you both, took Daniel (who was still sound sleep) on her arms and gave Aaron his jacket back, to then close the door. Without saying much, he walked you to your own room, prompting you to continue.

"Where was I? Oh, yeah! So filming a movie is... I'm running out of adjectives, but it's really great," he chuckled slightly, "but I don't think it can top the feeling of being on the theater," you sighed dreamily.

"On stage, there is no take two, the things you're doing can only be done once. There's..." your tongue ran through your lips, an action Aaron found almost mesmerizing, as you tried to find the words to describe the thing you loved the most in the world. "There's this feeling, when the show is about to start, the lights dim, the overture starts and you get goosebumps and you heart starts thumping at the moment you come on stage, there's something about that moment being unrepeatable and having the eyes of the crowd on you, the adrenaline is just... is like the identity line that divides the actor from their character disappears and in that moment you're not quite them, but you're not you, you're just..." you let out a breath at the inability to find the word and, for a moment, you worried you might have bored him with your rambling, but he had that bliss over his face, the one only a theatre actor knows and has, that told you he knew exactly what you're talking about.

The next morning, back on set and with your costumes again covering your backs, Aaron found himself so hypnotized by the sight of you rehearsing with Amanda his tea got cold and was utterly scared when Eddie's palm fell onto his back, dragging him out of his day dream.

"Is this the part when the Phantom is stalking Christine?" George asked jokingly, making Aaron roll his eyes.

For someone who made so much fun of him for becoming Enjolras, he had certainly developed Grantaire's mocking nature.

"She's really talented," the blonde man answered nonchalantly, drinking from his tea and making a face when he found out the drink was cold.

"I see," Eddie said handing him his tea, "are you seeing our dear Y/N under a new light?"

Was he? It would be a lie to say he didn't come back to his room with you occupying every single one of his thoughts, his heart fluttering who had managed to put his passion for theatre in words. Had his hands always became a little shaky around you? Yes. But today it was even worse.

Today, your voice giving life to Eponine's thoughts and emotions could make his cheeks blush or bring tears to his eyes in a matter of a second. Today, you walked around with a strange light over you, one that didn't allow him to look away while, at the same time, reprehended him for staring. Today, you were more than an artist, an actress. You were something more than human.

"Nonsense," he replied stubbornly, "I have always known how talented she is."

Before he could get a sarcastic comment or a snide yet friendly remark, the three men's chatter was interrupted by the two previously mentioned ladies rehearsing The Robbery, one of the scenes you planned on filming that day.

"It's the police! Disappear! Run for it!" Your strong soprano voice cut all chattery in one swift motion. "It's Javert!"

He probably held his breath for as long as you held the note. Once you opened your eyes, you seemed a little embarrassed at all the eyes on you, but Aaron didn't understand just what did you have to be embarrassed about.

Eddie shook his shoulder, "breathe, mate!"

[seigephoenix]

happy friday and welcome to dadwc! for the pairing of your choice, “You’re my best friend.  I love you, I always have.”

Happy Friday! For @dadrunkwriting. I chose Elaina and Alistair again. These two have been through so much. They really are each other's rocks and truly deserve a happy ending.

Content Warning: thinking on DA:O canon storylines, some sadness, but fluff overall Length: ~900 words

Alistair looked down at the papers strewn across the desk, papers that always weighed heavy on his mind.  As heavy as the crown he wore upon his head.  He complained plenty about his position but he did it all with her at his side.  He’d have been lost long ago if it hadn’t been for her.  After Duncan’s death, Arl Eamon being sick, Redcliffe being attacked by the undead, and the revelation he was the king’s bastard.  Facing down Loghain, putting him on the throne, and the two of them facing against the Archdemon together.  Alistair knew that nothing could knock them down so long as they stood against the threat together.

He missed her.  Alistair knew the mission was important, the end was coming for them sooner rather than later and she was determined to save them.  As determined as she was that night before the battle with the Archdemon.  He’d thought she was insane but she hadn’t wanted to lose him, and he knew she’d have sacrificed herself if he refused.  The thought of losing her had hollowed out his chest and he knew what his answer would be.  He couldn’t lose her.

His fingers drifted over the latest letter he’d gotten.  The news was positive and that she had a lead for the cure.  He smiled and chuckled at how her handwriting grew more flowy the more excited she became.  Even over a decade after being together he still loved seeing how her face lit up when she was excited about something.  Her eyes sparkled whenever she was happy and her hands would move as quickly as her words did.

Alistair didn’t pay the door any attention as it creaked open, he assumed it was a servant bringing him more correspondence.  He was surprised when a familiar perfume reached him and he turned to see her standing beside him.  “Elaina.”  He jumped to his feet and his hands brushed over her face, as if he couldn’t quite believe she was standing in front of him.  He cupped her cheeks in his hands as he covered her lips with his, pouring all of the loneliness and relief she was home into the kiss.

Elaina’s fingers wrapped around his wrists as she leaned into his kiss.  She missed him sorely as well, every time she had to leave for Warden business.  She was happy to tell him the news.  She fell back onto her feet as she smiled up into his face.  The one she always missed, the one she could picture as well as her own.  “I missed you.”

“I, I missed you as well.  So much.”  He pressed a kiss to her forehead as she softly laughed.  He wanted to pull her against him and never let go.  Just to bury his face against her neck and just stay there.  His fingers unhooked the cloak at her shoulders, tossing it aside as she chuckled.  Her own fingers tugged at the heavy coat he wore in the winter, until it pooled at his feet.

“Alistair.”  Elaina chuckled when his fingers tugged at her armor.  She grinned as the blue and silver fell away until she was standing in her tunic and trousers.  “We’re in your office, Your Majesty.”  She grasped his wrists before he could pull her shirt over her head.  Elaina did laugh at his whining.  “Perhaps if I wasn’t sure a servant would walk through the door.”

“I’d hate for the servants to see my bare ass,” he said as he pulled her in against him.  Elaina laughed and curled her fingers into his shirt.  She was here with him.  He breathed in her perfume as he closed his eyes.

“Alistair.  Did you get my letter?”

“The one that said you had a lead on a cure?” Elaina leaned back and he looked down into her face.  A face that had aged but still retained that regal beauty from her youth.  The same plump lips he loved feeling soften under his.  The same eyes that could cut a lord down at their knees but filled with warmth and laughter when they were alone together.  Her eyes were filled with hope and happiness.

“I did.  I found records of the first Joining.  I am positive we can reverse the Joining with them.”  Alistair was impressed.  “The First Warden had no clue what I was up to.”  She grinned at him and he shook his head.  The First Warden was no match against his wife, there was little that could stand up to her when she had her mind fixed on something.  Alistair’s hand reached up and brushed a lock of hair out of her face, trailing down until his palm rested against her pulse steadily in a reassuring rhythm.

“I have no doubt that you would find a cure.” Alistair kissed the tip of her nose as she grinned at him.  “You know.”  Elaina tilted her head as he looked down at her.  “You are my best friend.”

“Alistair.”  He shook his head and continued before she could interrupt.

“You are.  You are the one who knows who the man is behind the crown.  The clumsy and somewhat socially inept man behind the crown.”  Elaina gave him a lopsided smile as he grinned at her.  “Yet you continue to love me.”

“You’re hard to quit.”  Alistair laughed as she rose on her toes and kissed his cheek.

“You’ve been by my side throughout it all.  Steadfast and reassuring.  I knew if I stumbled then you’d be there to steady me.  As I said, you are my best friend.  And I love you.  I always have.”  He rested his forehead against hers as she went quiet.  Elaina’s hand came up and rested against his cheek as she moved until her lips covered his.

“I’ve always loved you.  Even when you ran from me that time I tried flirting with you the first time.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t remember that.”

[apcthetics]

closed starter for INDIE ( @overwhlcmed​ ) location: a cafe? idfk. this is bad bare with me.

◦ 「 ☆ 」 ────────────  ALISTAIR SCOOPED THE large paper cup spilling over with black coffee off the counter and stepped back out of the way so others could do the same. he didn’t intend to stay. he didn’t like how busy it was in the cramped coffee shop that he was only in because it was the only one in about a 20 mile radius ( shocking, for new york city ) ; he would’ve much rather found somewhere quiet to enjoy the june sunshine that was steadily coming out from behind the clouds. but as his gaze found an all too familiar face, scratching notes onto paper near the back of the cafe, his feet carried him towards her table without hesitation. carelessly, he discarded his bag against the third chair now left between them and dropped himself back into the seat with a huff. there had been no formal invitation for him to sit, and he was very sure that sober and hunched over, scribbling lyrics away in her notebook, he was the last person indie wanted to keep her company. but that didn’t stop him from making himself comfortable.

          “ hace tiemp que no nos vemos. “ he greeted, condescension and bitterness seeping so deep into his tone he didn’t even bother to hide it. indie’s temper tantrum at his studio had done more damage than just to the decorative vase she’d knocked over. his ego was bruised, and still had yet to recover. alistair had never known the meaning of play nice. an eye for an eye always seemed fair. indie had, in a roundabout way he was never very good at talking about, hurt him. the grudge he held wanted to do the same. he didn’t even hesitate. “ i’m sure we have lots to catch up on. as usual  ─  i guess. how’s the band ? how’s your new girlfriend ? what’s your boyfriend think of her ? assuming that you and him are still doing. . . whatever the fuck that was. has he finally got used to you having a side piece ? or is that still a point of. . . you know. “ he paused for dramatic effect, gesturing wide with open palms, before letting his hand fall back against his cup as he sat back into his chair. “ contention. “ 

[katymacsupernatural]

The Depth of Ebony Part 11

Dean Winchester x Reader

Story Summary: A hell hound is needed to fulfill a spell. A hellhound is captured by TFW. But it turns to be more than they bargained for. Y/N becomes more than they bargained for.

Catch Up Here: Masterpost

“I liked the Hot Tamales,” you told Sam the next morning over a cup of coffee. “And the theater. It was different than I expected. But nice.”

“It’s always fun to go see a movie,” He answered as he flipped the pancake to the other side. “Dean and I never take enough time to do things like that. I’m glad you went.”

He placed the pancake in front of you, sitting down with his own. “Normally you go hunting? After Monsters? But you haven’t really done that since I’ve been here.”

He frowned, tucking a piece of his long hair back behind his ear. “No, we haven’t. We were worried about you, and the spell. And things have been quiet lately, so we’ve been staying around here. Trying to help you out.”

“I appreciate it. I really do. And I just hope I’m not becoming a...nuisance” you tried coming up with the right word just as Dean stepped into the room.

“What’s a nuisance?” He asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee before sitting down next to you. 

“Hopefully not me,” you answered, taking a bite of the pancake, wondering if you would ever get used to the taste of food again. It was so full of flavor, so good after years of rotting meat. 

“Hell no. We enjoy having you here,” Dean answered as he picked up a pancake and shoved it into his mouth. “And we still need to make sure that Alistair’s not coming back.”

The last part was a little harder to understand with his mouth full of pancakes. But his words created this warm fuzzy feeling inside you that you hadn’t felt for quite some time. Blushing slightly, you took another forkful of pancakes.

“But we do expect you to pull your weight,” Sam started to say just as Dean sank down beside him.

“Sammy give the girl a break. She’s been a Hell Hound forever. She needs to rest and relax. To figure herself out again,” Dean insisted, winking at you. 

You couldn’t help but think that maybe Dean was flirting with you. Which you weren’t sure about. You really liked Dean, but the last time you started having feelings for someone, well look where that ended up. “I will gladly do whatever I need to. Cooking, cleaning. Anything. I know I’ll go crazy if I don’t help out a little bit.”

“Can you cook?” Dean asked, both brothers staring at you, waiting for your answer. 

“I don’t know,” you admitted, standing up and taking your plate, along with Sam’s to the sink. “But I can do dishes.”

You worked hard to not be a nuisance in the next couple of days. Helping with the dishes, sweeping the library. This morning you had decided to be up before either Sam or Dean. In the kitchen, you pulled out one of the dusty cookbooks.

“Pancakes can’t be that hard,” you mumbled to yourself. The instructions seemed very simple, and all the ingredients were things you knew about. Humming to yourself, you began whipping up the ingredients. Sure, it had been forever since you had cooked, but it was quickly coming back to you. Sure, all of the equipment was different than you remembered, but you quickly made sense of it.

With the pancakes sizzling on the stove, you turned to the coffee pot. “Now how do I work you?” You muttered, lifting the lid of the coffee pot, staring inside. There were the coffee grounds from yesterday in some sort of paper basket. Gingerly picking it up, you tossed it into the trash just as Dean stumbled his way into the kitchen.

“Something smells amazing,” Dean yawned. “Where’s the coffee?”

“I’m trying to figure that out,” you whispered just as the smell of smoke filled the air. Turning back to the stove in alarm, you quickly pulled the black pancake from the griddle. “It was going well.”

“The rest look great,” he assured you. “But let me show you how to make the coffee.”

It was as simple as you imagined it to be. With only a couple of steps Dean had the coffee brewing. Sitting down and eating pancakes while you waited, you realized how much you were enjoying this. Spending time with Dean, getting used to being human once again. Dealing with all the new and fancy ways people lived now. 

“You seem happy,” Dean smiled your way. “Settling in?”

Nodding as he stood up to pour two cups of coffee, you had to agree with him. You were happy. The happiest you had probably been in your life. Even before you had been turned into a Hell hound. Things were finally beginning to look up for you. 

“I just want you to know that you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like. I know you were worried you were overstaying your welcome, but I wanted to make sure that you knew you weren’t. We really enjoy having you here. I enjoy having you here.”

“Thank you,” you answered just as Sam came into the kitchen, his laptop in his hands. 

“So get this,” he started off, ignoring the coffee and pancakes, setting his laptop in front of Dean. “I think I found us a hunt.”

You listened as they talked about the hunt. Something killing single men in Wyoming. You smiled as you watched them, how focused they were on the hunt already without even leaving the bunker. It made you want to watch them as they worked the case. As they stood up, getting ready to pack and leave, you began to realize they might leave you behind. And you weren’t sure you wanted to stay in the bunker by yourself.

“Dean,” you called out, and he stopped in his tracks. “What about me?”

Running a hand through his hair, he turned towards Sam. “Sam, what do you think?”

You could see the feelings and thoughts crossing Dean’s face. He was concerned and worried about you, but it also seemed as if he wanted to bring you along. But he wanted his brother’s opinion as well. 

“I don’t know,” Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “It would be safer for her here. While she’s getting back on her feet. But it’s really not up to me.”

“What do you want to do?” Dean asked. “If you go, you’ll stay back while we do the main work. Maybe staying in the hotel. I don’t want to worry about you.”

“I don’t want to be alone,” you answered. “Please, let me go.”

Dean/Jensen Tags: @acortez82 @acreativelydifferentlove @adoptdontshoppets @a-girl-who-loves-disney @akshi8278   @bi-danvers0  @cap-just-said-language @colette2537   @deansgirl215  @flamencodiva @hamiltrash1411 @its-not-a-tulpa @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @justanotherwinchester @just-another-winchester @karouwinchester @keikoraventeller  @krys198478 @librarygeekery @magssteenkamp @misspygmypie @mlovesstories @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk  @mrspeacem1nusone @nothinbuttrouble2 @ria132love @ruprecht0420  @screechingartisancashbailiff   @sortaathief @superseejay721517 @squirrelnotsam @team-free-will-you-idjiot @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @thoughts-and-funnies @torn-and-frayed @tricksterdean @wonderfulworldofwinchester @woodworthti666 @beabutterfly987 @pink-sparkly-witch @sexyvixen7

Ebony Tags: @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @voltage-my2dlove @idksupernatural​ @deanfanatic​ @kalesrebellion​ @doctorlilo​ @brilovesdeanwinchester​ @parinarain​ @aiofheavenandhell​ @that-winged-rat​

Forever Tags: @aditimukul @alexwinchester23 @algudaodoce03-blog @amanda-teaches @andreaaalove   @artisticpoet @atc74 @be-amaziing @camelotandastronauts @caswinchester2000 @cpag7 @chelsea072498  @closetspngirl​ @deanwanddamons​ @docharleythegeekqueen​ @emoryhemsworth​ @ericaprice2008​  @esoltis280​   @tatted-trina6​ @foxyjwls007​ @gh0stgurl​ @goldenolaf25​ @growningupgeek​  @imsuperawkward​ @heyitscam99​ @hobby27​ @horsegirly99blog​ @imsuperawkward​ @internationalmusicteacher​ @iwriteaboutdean​  @jayankles​ @jensen-gal​ @justsomedreaming​ @just-another-busyfangirl @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son​ @linki-locks11​ @littleblue5mcdork​  @lowlyapprentice​   @mersuperwholocked-lowlife​ @mogaruke​ @monkeymcpoopoo​ @musiclovinchic93​  @nanie5​   @percussiongirl2017​ @plaid-lover-bay25​   @roonyxx​ @ronja-uebrick​ @roxyspearing​  @samanddeanmyheroes​ @sandlee44​ @shamelesslydean​ @simonsbluee​ @sillesworldofwriting​ @sgarrett49​ @spnbaby-67​ @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​ @spnwoman​   @superbadassnatural​ @thatcrazybookwormgeek​   @thewinchesterchronicles​ @valsworldofcreativity​ @vvinch3st3r​  @whimsicalrobots​ @winchester-writes​ @zombiewerewolfqueen​