#at least of a time when the other two were still together

[witchofhistory]

It was Titus that told them something was wrong. The two dogs had moved to a quieter room to map instead of struggling through the humans that were acting loud and obnoxious over Family Game Night, despite doing this once a month for years. It wasn’t like the scores changed much anyway. 

Tim and Jason were kickass together at Trivial Pursuit, so that was a no-go, Charades and Monopoly had been banned since before Steph came into the family, so it was almost entirely games of luck and betting games. Cass was always the dealer to keep everyone in check and Dick was her check since he was the only one to really be able to catch her in a lie. 

Not that she did, it was obvious she was having too much fun to ruin the game by cheating. 

“Get the dice! Get the dice!” Tim screamed as Steph dove for the dice that had rolled off the table, fighting off  Damian’s attempts to get to them first. The two wrestled as Steph reached out,  snatching the dice that had fallen off the table and under the couch. Tim cheered as he caught them, meaning it was his team’s turn and Damian/Bruce had lost the right to theirs. 

Damian pouted as he glared at Bruce. “You are too old to be effective.” 

Bruce rolled his eyes, having heard far worse starting when he took in Dick at only twenty two and was promptly informed he was an old man for his back cracking habit when he stood up. “Thank you for that assessment.” 

The others giggled at his face and Dick felt his chest warm at the fact that they were mostly all here. At least Bruce’s official kids were, it had to be world ending to get the extended crew here. Babs rarely left her tower at night, preferring to stay on coms with Bluebird, Batwoman, Batwing, and Gotham Girl, who were currently filling in to give the rest of them a night off. Huntress might show up at some point, if only to spread chaos since Batman wasn’t around to stop her (or give her the disappointed dad state). 

All of that was ruined by panicked barking as Tiitus skidded into the room, scratching the hardwoods with his nails as he struggled to control paws too big for his body. He yelped as he slammed into the couch, but quickly shook himself off and grabbed Bruce’s sleeve between his teeth. 

“Titus!” Damian chastised. “Let go.” 

The great dane completely ignored him and started tugging Bruce out of the room, forcing the  rest of them to follow him all the way to a sitting room where Ace was sprawled over his dog bed. Immediately it was clear there was something wrong. 

Ace always sat up when they came into a room, if only to check them over and go back to sleep afterwards, but he barely so much as twitched his ears towards them. He whined once he caught sight of them. 

Dick walked over to  him slowly while Bruce and Damian tried to calm Titus, who was still keeping Bruce’s sleeve captive. “Hi buddy, what’s going on?” He slowly reached out a hand to pet Ace’s ears, flinching back when he felt like muscle spasm under his hand. Even with all his training, it was hard to keep himself calm when that was his boy . His buddy. “Bruce? I think we need to go to the vet.” He tried to keep his voice even so the kids didn’t panic. 

It was a bit of a blur after that, stuffing all of them into the minivan while he and Jason held Ace in the trunk to keep him from getting jostled around too much. He was barely moving, and only his right side. 

There was barely any time between the house and the waiting room. All of his siblings  tried to keep a hand on Ace, petting gently and speaking soft whispers to tell him it was going to be okay. Ace, despite whatever had happened, kept trying to look at them and lean into their hands. Dick  held back a sob as he realized his boy was still trying to comfort them, to tell them it was going to  be okay as much as they were trying to comfort him. 

“Ace is going to be okay, right?” Steph asked quietly, even though they all knew he was old. Most German Shepherds usually only lived to thirteen, let alone the seventeen he was now with all of their night work. 

Damian responded before he could. “tt. Of course. He is strong.” 

Dick reached out his free hand to run a hand through Damian's hair, both to soothe his brother and to give himself something to do. “The vets are going to do everything they can to help him.” 

Bruce came back from talking to the tech at the front desk and knelt on the floor between Duke and Cass, letting them lean on him while he bent forward to press kisses between Ace’s ears. “Hey buddy, they'll see you in just a few minutes. They have to prep the room and then they're going to help you, okay?” 

Part of Dick was bitter that this was the softest he had seen Bruce in years, but he also knew it had been yeast since there were scared little kids or animals that needed comfort from him. Batman had moved away from rescuing kidnapping victims and instead focused on taking on the hard hitters, putting himself in danger before ever letting his kids take part. The rest of him was glad that if this was it, Ace at least got to see Bruce like he was when they were little one more time. 

They couldn't let everyone go in the room because there wasn't enough space for them, it would be a fire hazard. Without the ability to put all of their  focus on Ace in front of them, they all ended up pacing or playing  on their phones to distract themselves from what was happening. Dick glanced over at Tim who he was pretty sure was running a complete takeover of one of Luther’s subsidiaries on one phone and was playing Royal Match on the other. “How’s it going, Timmy?” 

“I still need to shoot all the ducks.” 

Dick raised an eyebrow at that. “And Luther?” 

“Too easy, I needed something more frustrating to focus on.” “Okay then.” Dick decided to focus on a different sibling for the time being. 

They all perked up when the Vet Tech came out, but it was obvious it wasn’t good news from the get go. They had on a similar face to the ones they themselves wore when talking to victims. They kept their body language open and relaxed, and kept their hands facing slightly sideways. They were even leaning forward slightly like they were trying to look less intimidating. “After much discussion, Mr.Wayne and the doctor have decided it’s best to put Ace to sleep.” 

Someone choked on a sob. It might have been Dick. 

“You can go in pairs to say your goodbyes.” 

Dick didn’t realize there was anything wrong with Damian until they got home. He wasn’t crying like Duke or the girls (or Dick, even if he tried to hide it), he wasn’t angry like Jason, or focused on Bruce like Tim. He didn’t expect him to be emotional in public, he tried to avoid drawing attention to himself nowadays if  he wasn’t able to put on the ‘perfect Wayne’ persona. 

And when they got inside, Bruce almost immediately got a message on his League communicator. He froze in the doorway as they put Ace’s box of ashes on the mantle, where it would stay until they could bury him properly. “Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking the most disheveled that Dick had seen  him in months. “I have to go, I am specifically requested by one of the delegations we’re trying to create a treaty with and they won’t start without me. I will try to reschedule when I get there or end it early.” 

Have to? Cass signed even as she walked over to hug him goodbye. 

“We will be fine in your absence, Father,” Damian said. He was in his favorite chair, pulling out a sketchbook from the side pocket attached to the arm. “You may go to your meeting, the others will calm down soon and your coddiling is unnecessary.” 

Bruce frowned, but another notification reminded him of how little time he had. He looked to Dick instead, like he always did, to figure out what was happening and take care of it. “I love you all.” It was stilted, but still far more than Dick expected honestly. Cass got a kiss to her forehead, Dick a pat on the shoulder, and then he was gone. 

There was silence for a few minutes as everyone settled into more comfortable positions, the girls cuddling on the couch and Tim sprawling on the floor, leaning on their legs. Duke sat in the other armchair by himself, while Jason just continued his pacing. 

Dick hoped that he would have time to talk to Damian before the fighting started, but just as he moved to pull his youngest brother away, Jason stopped. 

“I don't know why you're such an asshole, brat,” he snarled over at Damien who didn't even so much as look up at him. ��Even Mr. Emotional Constipation himself is feeling sad. I thought you were all about animals.” 

“And I thought you had some decorum but clearly I was mistaken. This will pass and then we can forget all about it.” 

That got everyone’s attention as Jason reeled back like he’d been slapped. He pulled the sketchbook out of Damien's hands, and dragged the kid out of his seat. “The fuck you just say?”

Damian glared at him, trying to get his sketchbook back. “What's done is done, it's not like there is anything we can do to fix it. He's asleep.” 

Jason turned a furious shade of red, but Steph cut him off before he could blow up anymore. “What?” She narrowed her eyes at Damian like she was seeing something the rest of them weren't, showing off the detective skills she pretended she didn't have after her short stunt as Robin. “What do you mean he’s asleep?” 

“The fuck it matter?” 

“Shut up,” Dick snapped, a terrible thought worming its way into his brain. This was his Batgirl, if she thought this was something…God, he didn't want her to be right. 

Damian tensed his muscles like he wanted to shuffle, but didn’t believe it was allowed. It made something sharp appear in Dick’s side despite the swirling mix of sadness and grief, knowing that they were scaring him enough that he was trying to de-escalate. “He’s in a comatose state so he can heal. He’ll be fine once he wakes up.” 

The entire room seemed to freeze as one after another his siblings were hit by the frying pan that was that statement. 

Tim was the first to break and choked out a soft, “what?” 

“The vet said that they put him to sleep,” Damian said in that tone of voice he used when he thought they were being particularly stupid, when he was sure he was right and refused to believe anything else.  

And it hit Dick, not for the first time, that his little brother was ten. He was a child whose first language wasn’t English, who struggled with some of the idioms like any other non-native speaker, and he was ten . Even if he was the smartest ten year old that Dick had ever met, even if he was brilliant at picking up clues, he sometimes didn’t want to see what was right in front of him. Sometimes he didn’t know enough to understand. 

Steph choked on a sob that might have also been a laugh as she turned into Cass’ side and announced, “nope! I can not do this right now.” 

It really wasn’t her job anyway. Not when she refused to be adopted for reasons he was going to pretend not to know until someone told him, not when she wasn’t the oldest. Because it was his job, as the oldest, to take on their burdens. To take care of them and explain things they didn’t understand. Even when they were hard and made his throat feel like he was gargling glass. 

“I do not understand.” Damian looked at him with wide eyes, clearly trying to figure out what  he missed. “Ace might not be optimal when he awakens, but—” 

Dick dropped to his knees in front of his baby brother with the force of a prayer. “Damian, when an animal is put to sleep, it doesn’t mean that they are put in a medical coma like a human. It means that they’re…put down.” 

Damian shook his head aggressively as he shoved away the hands that Dick tried to hug him with. “That’s not true! Ace is a good dog, he did nothing wrong. He is injured! If they just help him, he will get better and he can be Bat-Hound again!” When Dick started to try saying something again, he was barreled over by Damian shoving Dick backwards and backing up. “No! He can get better! Father would not terminate one of us because of an injury, why would he terminate Ace?” 

Jason shifted uncomfortably but tried  to step forward to help, which was appreciated even if it wasn’t necessary. “Baby Bat, it’s not like that.” 

There was a moment when Dick thought maybe Damian understood, but the tears welling up in his eyes and the resignation on his face did not bode well. “They’ve already killed him, haven’t they?” He looked over at the box on the table, his mouth forming a little “o” as it finally hit him what had happened. “I understand now.” 

Dick hummed as he repositioned his knees from the sitting position he’d fixed himself into. “Do you want a hug, baby? I know it’s hard when stuff like this happens, it’s always hard to lose an animal. We love them so much and…” 

Damian shook his head again. His eyes had dried, but the expression on his face was more blank than anything else. Like all the emotion had been pulled out of him. “Ace is dead. I have to go.” 

“What do you mean?” Dick didn’t even have a chance to blink before his little brother was just gone. He swore as he tried calling for his youngest brother, but there was no response and only the eerie silence of grief hanging in the air. “We have to find him, before he hurts himself or panics or, I don’t even know!” 

Cass appeared in front of him and offered a hand that he took gratefully. Once he was standing, she started signing that she would go look in the barn. Steph followed after her, which was probably a good idea. Safety in numbers. Duke and Jason offered to look in the library, while Tim said he would find Alfred and check with him to see if Damian had gone to the kitchen to hide. 

Which left Dick. Honestly, it was probably better that he wasn’t with one of his siblings for the first time since the Vet had told them there was nothing they could do. It  made it easier to take his grief over Ace, over lost nights cuddling in a bed that still felt too big for a kid who used to share with his parents and then more often than not found a friend’s bed to slip into when he could. Over training together and learning together and giving each other looks when Bruce was being stupid again . Ace was his first brother, even if he felt a little silly saying that about a dog. 

But his grief wasn’t  important, not in the face of keeping his siblings together enough that they could heal. Not in the face of Damian potentially running. With the others running around, Damian would either stay in his room or head down to the cave to become Robin and take his anger out on the criminals of Gotham. Like father, like son. 

What he wasn’t prepared for was Damian to completely ignore the locker rooms he was guarding and to head straight for the Zeta in full gear, with the Watchtower codes. He quickly texted the Sibling Chat what happened as he threw on a domino, not bothering to put on his uniform despite knowing he’d wished he had later, and chased after the baby of the family. 

Would he yell at Bruce for leaving them alone? 

Would Damian try to convince Bruce to use the Pits and bring Ace back? Did the Pits even work on ashes? 

Dick skidded to a stop in front of the meeting room and froze in the open doorway as he heard his littlest brother, his littlest sibling , say the most heartbreaking thing he had ever heard. 

“You believe you have disappointed me.” Bruce looked confused, like he was trying to think through a fog. Ace was affecting him enough that his Batman persona was slipping away, leaving only their dad behind. 

“Yes.” 

“Why?” 

Damian’s voice cracked as he carefully said, “I have been informed that Ace was terminated as a punishment for my behavior.”

Before Dick could even move, Bruce was removing the cowl and whatever remained of Batman to pull Damian closer in a loose hug. “Oh, no, sweetheart, that’s not true. What makes you think that? It’s not your fault.” 

It was telling that even as Damian started to tremble, he let Bruce hold him. “Ahki said you did not terminate him because of something Ace did, which means it must have been something I have done. There was no other reason for you to deny him treatment for his injuries!” 

Oh, Jay is going to be so smug Damian called him Ahki when he hears about this . It wasn;t really an appropriate thought, but it was the only one that came to mind in the face of Damian believing they blamed him for Ace. 

Bruce brushed the hood away from Damian’s face and cupped his cheek gently, holding the little boy like he was the most precious thing in the world. Dick remembered what it felt  like to be held like that, to be small enough that Bruce wanted to protect you from the world. “Ace was seventeen. Dogs of  his size usually only live to about thirteen or fourteen years of age, and yet he stayed with us long enough to meet you. I am very grateful he did.” He took a deep breath and held it, then sighed. “Ace was not terminated. He was put down after his seizure caused his left side to be completely paralyzed. He was in pain and there was nothing they could do to help him. If they had tried, he would have died on the table instead of with me holding him.”  

“You are not angry with me. It was not my error that led to this?” Damian’s voice cracked sharply as he pressed his lips together to try and keep control of himself. “Ba--  Baba? You will not have Titus killed?”

Dick couldn’t take it anymore. Hearing Damian call Bruce something other than Father, let alone something as childish as Baba, for the first time broke whatever restraints kept him rooted to the spot. He ran over to his brother and dad, crouching next to Damian and leaning on Bruce’s chair despite how it dug into his side.

Bruce didn’t take his eyes off of Damian, but he did move a hand to rest on Dick’s shoulder. “No, Robin. It was just old age; Ace isn't suffering and I would never hurt or kill one of your treasured friends. Even to make a point. Batman doesn’t kill and Bruce Wayne doesn't either.” 

The dam broke as Damian hiccuped out a sob, burying himself in Bruce’s arms as he apologized for his weakness, “I’m sorry Baba,” and choked on anything else. 

Dick moved to pull Damian away, an offer to bring him back home on the tip of his tongue before Bruce could push either of them away, but instead he was pulled up into one of his dad’s all encompassing hugs. His dad had arms that were big enough to wrap around them both, and the cape shielded them from view as it created a cocoon of safety that Dick just couldn’t stop himself from burrowing into. He curled a hand through Damian’s hair protectively and for the first time all day, let himself cry. The tears pooled in his mask and the snot made his nose hurt, but that was a problem for Other Dick. The Dick that had to be strong. 

And right now? That guy was the least of Dick’s worries. 

Without even moving to let them go, Bruce swept up Damian  to sit on his hip as he stood and pulled Dick more firmly under arm to hide in his side. “I will be returning home. Do not call me until I reach out.” 

It might have been Batman who entered the Watchtower, but it was Bruce who left. Who kept a hand on the back of Dick’s head like he used to when Dick was too short for Bruce to comfortably put a hand on his shoulder. 

Damien not knowing that dogs only live 10-16 years

A family pet passed away recently so I decided to funnel my sadness into Damien.

Give me a Damien who had never been allowed animals in the League and if they were discovered, Ra's forced him to kill them or give them away depending on what kind of animal it was.

Give me a Damien who in the back of his head knows animals don't live forever but doesn't understand how old Ace is when he gets there.

And this boy gets so attached to animals.

Give me a Damien who doesn't understand what happened when Titus brings him to Ace, who passed away in his sleep. Who believes someone killed one of their dogs.

And he's angry first, because that's safer, and he's freaking out and trying to figure out who did it and why when Dick finds him. And they bring Ace to the vet and the Vet says he was just old. Dick tries so hard to be comforting and is doing his best but that's his childhood dog right there.

Give me a Damien who suits up and interrupts a Watchtower Meeting to demand Batman get the JLD to bring Ace back. And he's trying so hard to be angry.

But this boy is 10.

And when Bruce, not Batman, offers him a hug, he breaks down right then and there and starts sobbing and asking why Ace had to die. Wasn't he good? He was trying so hard, he thought he was doing better.

And Bruce is wiping at his tears and telling him he was good, it wasn't his fault. Ace was old, very old for a big dog. He was almost 17.

Give me a Bruce who excuses himself from the meeting and picks Damien up to bring him home, to cuddle his kids and to cry in peace.

[gothicfied]

Kang No-eul / Guard 011 Headcanons

Pairing: Kang No-eul / Guard 011 x fem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of drinking/alcohol, other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

જ⁀➴ Working that shitty job as a costume performer at your local amusement park was hard enough, and the money problems that plagued your every thought were making the situation worse. Most of your co-workers would go out for dinner together after your shift, basically only to drink their problems away and forget about this hell for a night. The only one who'd also stay behind like you was No-eul. You didn't know much about her, as she'd be super secretive about her life, but you at least knew she was a nice person.

જ⁀➴ One time after work it was literally pouring outside, and since you didn't own a car or an umbrella apparently, she offered to take you home with her. You guys hurried over her car and got in as soon as possible and only then you noticed that it seemed like she was living in here. Looking at No-eul, you could tell that she was slightly embarrassed, so you didn't bother mention it or asking about it — Instead, you thanked her a thousand times and more for taking you home.

જ⁀➴ From then on, she'd drive you home one or two times a week so you wouldn't have to take public transportation. At one point, you invited No-eul in, offering to cook dinner as a thank you to her. After a few times it became a regular thing and she actually seemed like she was enjoying it, a smile replacing her usual stoic expression. You also never quite understood how she was so good at her job, entertaining the kids and all, when she was the complete opposite when taking the heavy costume off.

જ⁀➴ She'd help you out in the kitchen sometimes, often catching herself staring at some old childhood pictures of you that you hung up on the refrigerator.

"Oh, that one is cute." No-eul mumbled, pointing at a picture taken at one of your school's dance recitals when you were quite young. "Huh? Oh yeah," you turned around to the picture she was pointing at chuckling a bit, "I was like what? Maybe three? Four? It's one of my mom's favorite pictures, though." You didn't get a reponse back. When you turned around again, No-eul was still staring at it almost longingly.

જ⁀➴ Back at work, you were the only person she'd talk with during the breaks. Some of your co-workers would ask you how you gained her trust like that, since No-eul didn't even speak to them directly at all. You'd just shrug, not knowing how to answer them. Perhaps it was a bit strange how much she seemed to like you, but you certainly weren't complaining.

જ⁀➴ After some time, she'd open up to you about some of the things in her past and she explained her reason for living in her car with that she simply didn't have the money for an apartment. Apparently, she urgently needed it for something else, but she wouldn't tell you more about it. Just the fact No-eul was ready to share bits of her private life with you made your heart feel warm. You liked that she felt safe around you, and she did, too.

જ⁀➴ It got really late one night, so you offered her to sleep over at your place, since you probably owed her so much in gas money anyway. With a bit of hesitation, she'd accept, a genuine smile gracing her face. She was kind of forced to sleep in your bed as well, since your couch was just not big enough for one person to sleep on. No matter how much you apologized for that, No-eul would reassure you that this was more than fine and that she was really thankful you did this for her. She'd take your hand to squeeze it a couple of times to emphasize her words, even.

જ⁀➴ It felt like you two were teenage girls again, having a sleepover while you got ready for bed. No-eul showing you real emotions like happiness, excitement and gratefulness was so weird but also very appreciated by you. You never thought you'd come this close to her, shoulder on shoulder while laying together in your bed. Neither you or her minded it at all though and that was evident through the comfortable silence between you two. Not much had to be said in the moment for it to not be awkward.

જ⁀➴ When you woke up the morning after, No-eul was gone. You had figured that she'd probably be prone to do that, but you were still a bit baffled when finding the spot next to you cold and empty. She needed to get something done, that's at least what her text message said. This was typical No-eul, even if this was the first time this had happened.

જ⁀➴ No-eul wasn't able to get you out of her head. You were so irreducibly kind, soft spoken, pretty and just something that sge wasn't. Even back in the car she couldn't contain a smile when thinking about you, the conversations you had, your laugh, your face.. it wasn't like she didn't like it. She just wasn't used to this feeling at all ever since leaving her home years ago. But perhaps, just for you, she'd be ready to get used to it again.

[slu7formen]

luke castellan x fem!reader

luke finds you after you went missing in quest. on the way back home, luke’s determined to take care of you.

warnings: mention of weight loss, wounds, bl00d, just overall crying, reader and luke shower together 🫣, intimacy, kinda angst ???? idk it’s one of my first times writing this

There was a tense silence in the car. The cold night air hitting your face was refreshing yet you couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of that nauseous feeling in your stomach and throat. Luke occasionally darted his gaze to you, but quickly looked back to the road, almost as if checking if you were still there or not.

"We´re almost there" he blurted out suddenly, glancing at you again. He´s been like this since he found you, trying to get you to talk, but you wouldn´t say a thing. It was ironic, how you used to spend so much time with Luke when you were younger and how he went through hell and back just to find you and yet, you were unable to form a word. Luke didn´t blame you though. He understood you more than anyone else. He didn´t want to talk to anyone when he came back from that quest that condemned him with more than one scar for the rest of his life.

And seeing you like this now, it was only like looking at his own reflection. He saw in you what everybody saw in him at seventeen.

The dirt on your clothes, or what was left of it, you were covered in a soft white blanket that Luke found in the back of the car. The dirt on your skin, your hair, under your nails. You didn´t have any old wounds visible, but fresh ones that were made just a few minutes ago when you and Luke had to fight your way out the cave of that cyclops. It stained the blanket.

You´ve lost weight, too much. Only you know how many hours or even days did that cyclops leave you to starve, weakening you more and more. Your skin seemed fragile, like a thin layer of glass, and that was your only protection.

It wasn't a pretty sight.

It took him time to find you, like a week or more. Chiron was convinced you´d find your way out of that mission, but when two weeks became three, and three became three more, that´s when camp started to get worried. No one dared to follow the same path you did, except Luke. What could he loose? Nothing but his own life. Chiron trusted him, and thank the Gods he did.

Luke couldn´t forget the sight of you when he found you, laying on the hard rocks, unconscious. If he hadn´t gotten there on time, you would have probably been eaten alive. When he lifted you up, he didn't want to admit the fact that you felt light, lighter than before. How weak he felt you.

He caught a glimpse of a tear when he got you into the car and put on your seatbelt, but again, he knew you wouldn´t make a sound. You both left the place silently, only trusting that Luke was driving you somewhere safe, that everything was over, that the cyclops stayed right in Tartarus where he belonged, and that Luke wasn´t going to be your second kidnapper.

At least the car, which was stolen, worked like wonders. The entire road trip was silent, sometimes broken by the sniffing of your nose or your uncomfortable movements. Luke couldn´t take you to camp, not yet at least, and as much as he wanted to, he also couldn´t. It was too far away now, and besides, you needed a proper rest.

"We´re here" he said as he parked the car. A solely motel stood there, on the side of the road, no sign of any other human or not human life around, just the dry and cold road, endless in the night. Luke knew this place was safe from any danger, he stayed there last night.

The receptionist didn´t even bother to look up and see that Luke was walking in with another person, wrapped in a white blanket and dirty. She just handed him the keys, her eyes glued to some fashion magazine.

The room was nothing special, just a small bed, a small table with two chairs, an old and uncomfortable looking sofa, a bathroom, and a closet. A tv was hanging on the wall, and a small fridge was standing in the corner. At least, you had a small balcony. You looked around, eyes trained and ready to decipher any type of danger, yet your head wouldn´t stop throbbing with pain, your eyes barely getting used to the artificial yellow light. Luke had placed his belongings on the bed, but as soon as your eyes caught them, he removed them and placed them over the table. "Sit" he demanded.

You obeyed, sitting on the bed and keeping a close eye on the older boy, watching as he opened the small fridge and brought out a bottle of water along with something wrapped in aluminum foil. "It´s what I have now" Luke stated, placing the wrapped food in your hands, if he was starved, he couldn´t imagine how your stomach was feeling. "I´ll get some more tomorrow, okay?"

You didn´t answer. Instead, you stared at the food. Luke was slightly startled when your fingers started to work rapidly around the foil, unwrapping the cold grilled cheese sandwich. You devoured it like a wild animal, taking big bites and barely even able to swallow before biting again. Luke chuckled slightly, placing a hand on your back, soothing slowly. "Easy there" he said, "It's all yours"

Your hands started to shake, your stomach protesting against the amount of food you were giving it after long weeks of starving. Tears started to prick your eyes, and Luke noticed. "Thank you, Luke" you sobbed out as soon as that sandwich disappeared. Your head crashed onto his shoulder, crying as Luke quickly wrapped an arm around you, "thank you" you kept repeating. Luke and you were close when you were younger, around fifteen or fourteen, but now a lot has changed. Yet, Luke never stopped looking after you.

It felt weird to cry on him. Your weeks of torture, pain, hunger and dirt and fear pressing onto Luke´s shoulders like a dark cloak, yet you couldn´t bring yourself to stop. You smelled the fresh air, clean one, how your back didn´t have goosebumps because you didn´t feel as if someone was behind you, waiting to attack. You felt safe and relaxed, but it was too overwhelming to feel thar way.

"Shh" Luke soothed, running a hand through your hair, "it's alright, I've got you"

And you stayed like that for a moment. You cried, and he held you. He knew how hard it was, and he didn't want to say anything that would hurt your feelings, so he remained quiet.

When your breathing evened out, your tears dried up and the shakiness of your hands died down, you brought yourself to stand up slowly. "I'm sorry" you whispered. You hated how your face got all red and puffy from crying, how the tears blurred your vision and how your voice sounded hoarse and shaky.

"No need," Luke smiled, "how about you take a shower?" he suggested, eyebrows rising softly.

You didn´t answer, Gods, you totally forgot what even a shower felt like. You suddenly felt embarrassed, what did you look like now? Your hair was probably way too dirty, all hard and tangled, not to mention the rest of your body. You were so disgusting, you didn't even know where to begin. That cyclops spat on you way too many times for you to not smell like his saliva, some of it even stuck to your clothes. Your breath must´ve been horrific, and you were sure you´d have to ask Luke for some extra underwear.

He stands up quick and jumps to the bathroom. You stand there, smelling your hair and immediately feeling as disgusted as ever. You hear the water running, Luke had turned on the shower for you. He must´ve noticed the way your eyes darted around nervously, a hundred thoughts and questions invading your mind in just a second. You wondered how much time you were there, standing like an idiot, for him to offer to turn on the water.

He came back quick, smiling softly and patting your shoulder. "It's all yours, don't worry, I won't watch"

You nod, a little embarrassed that you couldn´t even do the simplest tasks and he had to help you with it. "Thanks" you said again, removing the blanket over your shoulders and placing it over the bed. Luke watched as you walked away, the dried blood on your arms and fresh wounds decorating your pale skin like a canvas, he was sure he had some bandages or ambrosia to help you with that.

He sighed and threw himself on the bed, grabbing the remote and turning on the tv, trying his best not to think about you. He couldn't let his mind go back to the moment he found you, and the state you were in. It reminded him so much of him just a few years back. He promised himself to change, to not care, to foil his own heart with a thick layer of ice, but as soon as he realized how ugly things were turning after you didn´t come back, who was once his friend, that ice started to melt.

He wondered why were you even the one to leave in the first place, what were you thinking? Why did you accept the mission? Why didn't you say no? Luke couldn't bring himself to hate Chiron for sending you out there. It wasn't his fault, nor yours. You were young, and Luke knew it wasn't your first time either, but the danger was worse than any other mission you accomplished. He couldn´t stop thinking about you for some reason, maybe even way before you left, you were a part of his mind.

He was like an eagle, keeping an eye on you, watching, but never attacking. Never making his presence known. But then, the news of your missing broke his silence, his invisibility. It was just the same as if you were dead, and he was forced to watch as his friends cried over your absence.

"Luke?"

He jumped out of his position, startled by the sudden sound of your voice. The water was still running, he heard it, but you walked out of the bathroom with a towel around your fragile body. You were dripping little droplets, but you weren´t done, you weren´t clean. Still dirty, still bloody.

"What´s wrong?" he asked, maintaining his position on the bed.

"I-" you stuttered, embarrassed, "I can't do it"

Luke tilted his head in confusion "Do what?"

"Wash my hair, or- myself"

Your hair was wet, but not completely soaked, meaning you must´ve tried to wash it yourself but couldn't do it. "You can't reach it?" he asked, almost in disbelief rather than worry.

You shake your head, your cheeks red in embarrassment. You looked at Luke, and then at the ground, hoping that it would just open up and swallow you whole. "My arms hurt too much" you explain.

Luke stands up then, walking slowly towards you. As he does, you extend your arms to him, for him to see. Luke never noticed the purple rings that decorated your wrists, a clear sign of handcuffs or some type of chain. In the darkness of the night and the cave, he must´ve mistaken it with dirt on your skin, just as the rest of your body, covered in soot and dirt. He follows the path up to your forearms, which were a little better, but filled with cuts, fresh and old ones. He looks at your left bicep then, where a nasty purple bruise stood, three fat lines, just as fat as the cyclops’ hand.

Luke´s about to say something, that he understands, the he´ll help, but you turn around then. Luke sees the old wound on your other arm, your triceps, a clean deep cut probably executed with a knife or a pointy rock, the yellow, green and blue nebula-like image staining your skin.

His fingers tent to grab you softly, but he looks somewhere else. Slowly, he moves your hair out of the way, placing it over your shoulder softly. He stares then, looking at what the towel wasn´t able to cover. More bruises, although small, looked painful over your muscles. There were more cuts too. Scratches. Near your spine, a long pale pink stripe, stood proudly on your skin. It looked fine, but it must've hurt like hell, even more with such a slow healing. It would scar. If only Luke had come sooner.

"Get back in the shower" he demanded softly, placing his hands on your naked shoulders. "I´ll help you get clean"

You nod, not bothering to turn and look at him, but rather, just obeying. "Will you-, get in with me?"

Luke feels his heart race. He didn't mean to sound suggestive, no. His face was red. Your body was hot, he was sweaty, and the bathroom was filled with steam. His clothes started to stick to his skin, making him feel hotter and hotter, and the thought of being in the shower with you only made him want to slap himself and stay awake.

"Um-," he breathed out, trying to hide the way his voice cracked slightly, the way his throat went dry. "If you want to, I mean" he clears his throat, "I don´t want to make you uncomfortable"

"You won´t" you assure him. "But if it´s uncomfortable for you-"

"No" he interrupts you, way too quickly. "I mean, I´ll help you if that's what you want"

You don't bother to turn around, instead, you walk in the bathroom. Luke watches, his eyes trained on the back of your body, how some of your bones poked out slightly, the bruises, the cuts, the scratches. You close the door then, and Luke stands there, waiting. His heart starts to race and beat harder and harder, his hands sweat, his knees feel weak. He didn't even realize how bad his palms were sweating, and he rubs them over his shorts. Why was he so nervous? It wasn´t as if you were asking him to do anything weird, you just needed help and it was pitiful. You couldn´t even move properly, for God´s sake.

"You can come in" he hears you say.

He gulps, and takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and letting the air fill his lungs. He opens the door then, and walks in. He sees the towel hanging on the doorknob when he begins to remove his clothes. He grabs the edge of his boxers, wondering if it was really necessary to take it off. He takes a look at the shower, the curtain closed, the water running, he barely saw a glimpse of your shadow. Just the thought of walking in there made cold sweat drip down his spine.

He takes a deep breath, and removes his underwear. He figures that if nothing was meant to happen, and that you were fine with him seeing you, then he didn´t have to worry about you seeing him.

When he enters, the hot steam hits his body like a soft cloud, enveloping him in a warm embrace, and the water feels hot. He sees you, under the shower, the water running down your body, though it looked unpleasant. He doesn´t dare to look down or somewhere else that isn´t your face, yet he doesn´t feel like it´s a forced action. You make him comfortable, even when you´re in the most vulnerable state you´ll ever be in your life, he doesn´t feel anything else other than comfort.

You smile softly at him then, and he steps behind you. You hear him breathe heavily once or twice, but neither of you say anything. "Can I?" he asks then, pointing at the cheap motel shampoo. You nod, and let him do whatever he has to. It felt weird, having someone else take care of you this way. You didn´t know why you felt the need of him protecting you this way, but it wasn´t bad.

He pours some in his hands and places it over your hair, slowly working his way through the knots. You relax, the feeling was strange yet welcome. You forgot how pleasant and orgasmic showers were. He massages softly, avoiding to pull at any strand, and it feels nice. Soothing, almost. Your head throbs less, and the headache that had been bothering you since Luke took you out of that cave started to disappear slowly. His hands were gentle, caring, and his breathing was soft behind your neck.

It was hard for him, though. To pretend as if nothing was happening. His heart was beating harder and faster with each second, the blood rushing through his veins, his palms sweaty and his eyes wanting to look elsewhere. But he was afraid, he couldn´t risk losing his cool and making you feel uncomfortable, so he didn´t dare. He was thankful you were facing away, that way, you couldn't see the way his cheeks blushed.

"Thank you" you whispered, the water running down your face and hair. Luke had managed to get rid of all the knots in your hair, and you felt so much better already.

"Don't thank me" he replied, letting the shampoo fall of your hair to cleanse. He took the little bottle again then, and repeated the process. He figured that just one round of shampoo wouldn´t be enough for you.

He followed the same path with the hair conditioner. He looked down briefly when he was done, careful not to go too low, but he noticed the dirt still lingering on your skin, the one that the splash of hot water couldn´t clean. He grabbed the soap then, and lathered it softly in his hands. His eyes lingered on the scars that decorated your body, he wondered what did they come from, where were you hit and how, why did you get them and how did they look like before.

He got close to your ear, "Let me know if anything hurts, okay?" he asked softly. You barely look at him over your shoulder, and you nod. It was more than obvious that everything would hurt, even the water splashing on your skin, yet you wouldn´t complain about it all.

He pressed the soap against your skin, but he didn’t dare to touch you any more than that. His free hand remained in his side, away from you. You didn´t know if he was doing it because he didn't want to touch you, or because he wanted you to tell him it was okay to do so, and that he was allowed to touch. His hands rubbed the soap, creating a thin layer over the dirt and grime. You closed your eyes. it was better to think of anything else other than the feeling of his hands on you, but you found your mind wandering to his body, only separated by air.

His hand rubbed circles on your shoulder almost as a kind gesture for you to warm up, but you couldn’t help but interpret it more than that. It was such a small kind gesture, but your body reacted in such ways to it ― goose bumps spreading like wildfire across your skin, a shiver running down your spine.

You hissed when he started rubbing your back, the soapy water stung your wounds, the smaller they where, the worse it hurt.

Luke stopped. "Are you okay?"

You nodded, but it wasn´t convincing. "It just burns a little" you explain, little tears stung your eyes.

He understood, and continued. He was careful not to press too hard or anything, the last thing he wanted was to hurt you more. He watched as the soap did its magic, how it got rid of the dirt and grime that stuck on your skin.

He dared to step a little closer when he reached your neck. He felt warm, his hands were soft, his grip gentle. You felt like you could fall asleep in the comfort of his embrace, warm and soft, not daring to harm. You closed your eyes, the water running down your face. Your breathing was soft, and you didn't have a clue of what you were doing to him.

His fingers on your neck tickle a little, yet it feels as if the most precious touch someone could ever give you. It felt sweet, tender, and you couldn't help but lean into the touch. Just slightly, just a little bit, you let your hair fall. It reaches Luke´s shoulder barely, yet Luke feels a wake of warm comfort over him.

He feels the need to grab you, to hold you. He wants to wrap his arms around you, he wants to tell you it's going to be alright, and that he's got you, but he can't. Not yet.

The soap´s smell impregnates in your body. Though cheap, it´s sweet. It smells like peaches, a deep artificial version of it at least. It was relaxing, almost like a lullaby. He stops then, his fingers lingering over the bruise on your triceps. The cut looks a little better without all the dirt and irritation, yet the bruise around it remains the same. He brushes it softly with his thumb, like a comforting caress. It doesn´t hurt, so you say nothing.

That same hand travels up then, careful not to brush any other wound, not allowing himself to hear a single cry come out from your lips. The water´s still hot when he reaches your shoulder, and your breathing has slowed down, yet his heart beats faster than ever.

He lets himself get lower, his torso leaning into you, his head lowering. His nose grazes your shoulder softly, just a slight movement, almost an innocent gesture. Your skin was soft, delicate. And he lets himself go lower, his lips placing a kiss on your shoulder.

It´s small and tender, lasted less than a few seconds. But he stays there, his hair getting wet, the water dripping down the side of your body, like you and him got frozen in time. The waters keeps on running but the room is filled with silence, as if it had to be broken by one of you. You say nothing, nor him.

Luke doesn´t have the heart to pull away. He doesn´t know why did he kiss you, he doesn´t know why did he allow himself to be this close, but he wanted to do it again, and he couldn´t bring himself to regret it. It felt like the most natural thing, and he wonders if he had gone mad, if he was still sane or not. But you did not reject him, nor did you pull away.

Your hand is tentative when you reach for his, the one placed on your shoulder. You feel his chest pressed onto your back, and you can feel the heat coming from him, how the water droplets run down his hair, his neck and his face, and how his breath is soft against your skin, warm, and it tickles a little.

He kisses again, the same spot, and then once more. Your hand is warm in his, and your fingers brush softly against his knuckles, like an encouraging gesture. He kisses once more, and then his lips travel further up, reaching your neck, and the next thing you feel is his lips on your pulse point. They press there, and stay still. It tingles your whole skin, goosebumps travelling from your ribs to your toes, the feeling exciting you.

He´s the one holding your hand then, flipping it and taking a soft hold of your wrist, careful not to squeeze your bruises around it. He lifts your hand close to his face, but his lips travel directly to your wrist, maybe a little lower, kissing your forearm. Over the tiny cuts, the scratches. He doesn´t press, and he doesn´t hurt. The warmth of his lips is inviting, and his tongue is soft, the way his mouth opens and closes over your skin like a delicate flower. When you dare to look a little closer, to look at him, his lips go to your knuckles, pressing softly over the dry blood that stained your hands. His lips were soft, like a cloud, and tender. He kisses them all, so gentle and soft that it makes you forget about the pain, how sore you are, and it makes you want to touch him too.

Just from one of his kisses on your hand.

He stops then, his sweet lips separating from your skin, but his hand still held yours. He wrapped his hand around yours, your fingers curling inside the grip of his own, trapping it in his warm embrace. Your body still faces the front, the water splashing both of your bodies as you lock eyes with him. He presses his forehead to yours, and his nose gently brushes against yours, the tip of it going up and down your own.

Your hear and feel his breath, even though it feels steady. Your heart beats a thousand miles, and you can´t help yourself but to close your eyes and feel. He leans closer then, his lips inches away from yours, and you can feel his breath and taste the water that runs down his lips and his chin, and suddenly, the space between your bodies doesn't feel big.

But it was. Because when the distance was about to be broken and Luke´s lips would finally press against yours, you had to pull away.

He doesn't look upset, he doesn't look hurt, his expression doesn't change. He knows. And that's the best part, how he doesn't feel bad for the mistake. You pull away almost as if you were pulling yourself away from him fully, yet you didn´t. You stayed close enough to feel his presence pressing behind you, yet far enough for him to not be able to reach your lips. He lets go of your hand, and you can´t help but think of yourself as someone stupid. Such a warm feeling, such a comfortable and protected embraced, destroyed by you, and your fears.

"I, uh..." you darted, facing the wall, your wet hands pressed to your face. "I'm sorry, I-"

"No, it's fine" he said, his voice was still soft, yet the way his tone changed was noticeable. You could hear the embarrassment in his words. ¨You don't have to apologize, really. I'm sorry"

"No, don't-" you breathed out, trying to find the right words. You didn't want him to apologize for something he didn't do. It was all your fault. "I didn't mean to ruin the moment, it's just... I-"

"Really, don't worry about it" Luke insisted, trying to keep the situation calm. The water was starting to feel cold, and the room was getting less steamy, but neither of you bothered. He placed a hand on your shoulder again, careful not to startle you. "Can I still help you?" he asks.

You look down at yourself, how weird your body looked like this now. Almost clean. "It's fine, I can clean my... front"

You slapped yourself in your mind for that. Luke chuckled silently behind you. "Okay" he sighed. He opened the curtain and slowly stepped outside the shower, partly because he didn´t want to leave, and partly because he didn´t want to slip in the wet floor. "Let me know if you need me for when you're done"

You nodded, and then he was gone. As soon as he walked out the door, you leaned back, letting your head rest on the wall behind you. Your breathing was shaky, and your legs felt weak. The room was filled with the sound of the running water and the beating of your heart. It felt like a dream, yet you couldn't believe how stupid were you. The both of you naked? In the shower? You let him see you like this? What the hell were you thinking?

You felt a little desperate for human touch, that was a fact but, did you have to go this far? What if he thought you were easy? He probably felt pity, and that was why he was helping you. What if you made things weird between you two now?

You finished quickly, cleaning yourself up the best you could, but the process was long. Your body hurt, and no matter how hard you tried, there were still wounds that refused to be cleaned, and it only frustrated you more. You got out of the shower nicely though, wrapped in two surprisingly cozy towels. You noticed the unfamiliar clothes resting on a wooden chair that wasn´t there when you got in the shower. You recognized those sweatpants; Luke brought you clothes.

Luke was lying on the bed watching tv, some old crappy show that distracted him barely from the previous shower experience. You walked slowly, the pain on your legs was almost unbearable. "Um, I'm done"

Luke turned his head to look at you. He was dressed too, wearing a plain shirt and some old sweats. A toothy grin appeared on his lips, "Too big?" he asked, eyes darting down to your covered legs. You blushed a little, startled by the sudden confidence and embarrassed by the fact that you had to hold tight onto those sweats as you walked or else, they'd fall. You sat on the bed next to him, looking for some miracle hairbrush in the empty motel cabinets. You weren´t lucky enough. "I wanted to get you something to eat from the vending machine, but I didn't want to leave you alone" he explained.

You shook your head, "You said we were safe here but it only works when you're in the same room as me?" you suggest, jokingly.

Luke shrugged, "I was sent to find and protect you, so that's what I'll do" he simply replied.

You looked at him, and smiled. How could he be so nice after all the stupid things you've done?

"Don't worry, I'm not even hungry" you stated, completely ignoring his bravery. "I'm just tired, I wanna sleep"

"Sure" Luke smiled. "I'll just turn off the lights and-" he said as he stood up from the bed, walking towards the light switch. "I'll let you sleep"

You frowned your brows though. "Wait, you won't sleep here?" you asked, confused.

Luke reached the switch, yet he didn't touch it. Instead, he glared towards the other side of the room, where the old sofa laid. Now, it was covered in sheets and a pillow, a homemade bed. You noticed the way he tried to avoid your eyes. "I thought you wouldn't want to, you know..." he pointed the bed, followed by a quick scratch on the back of his neck.

You couldn't blame him, honestly. After what happened in the shower, he had all the rights to assume that. But that didn't mean you were okay with it. You didn't want him to sleep uncomfortably on the couch, nor did you want to kick him out of the bed. It was big enough for the two of you. Luke has been having quite rough days, you couldn't help but notice on his tired face. It was his first time resting properly since the mission and he was going to sleep in an old and creaky sofa?

You hissed with pain when you positioned yourself differently on the bed, Luke attempted to grab you as if you were falling, but you got yourself comfortable fast enough. "Don't be silly. Sleep on the bed" you said.

 Luke frowned his brows, followed by a shook of his head in denial "I don't mind sleeping there" he reassured, pointing the couch. "It's not even uncomfortable" he lied, remembering the way he struggled to make it into a bed. ¨At least the sheets are clean, I made sure of that" he added.

"Luke, stop it" you said, behaving tough for a second, "I know you want to sleep here. It´s a bed"

Luke stared at you for a moment, thinking of the way his body was already screaming at him to lay down and sleep. It wasn't that he didn't want to sleep there, it was that he wanted to. He knew the bed was big enough, but the shower incident had him doubting himself. Was it alright? Did you even want him there? Or was he invading your privacy? The questions invaded his mind like a disease, and the way you looked at him with pleading eyes was almost enough to convince him, but the last thing he wanted was for you to feel pressured.

"You saved me. It's the least I could do for you now"

Luke felt his heart melt, and he had the biggest urge to hold you and protect you. But instead, he nodded and smiled briefly. He pressed his sweaty hands against his sweatpants as he started walking, but quickly walked back again to do the previous task he didn't finish; turning off the light. You took the sheets of the bed and slipped in slowly, Luke helped you by holding your arms softly. He slipped after quietly, trying not to disturb the peace.

The silence hugged the room, the only sound erupting from a bunch of crickets outside and the low volume coming from the TV. It was a weird sensation, sharing a bed with someone else after being rescued from a cyclops’ cave, and not knowing what was okay or not. It felt wrong, yet you didn't want him to leave. It felt right, though.

"Good night" you whispered then, closing your eyes, the fatigue in your body screaming for a proper sleep.

"Good night" Luke replied, turning to his side, giving you his back. The bed wasn't small, but it wasn't that big either, yet he didn't dare to move a single inch.

You weren't asleep yet. You heard him for a couple minutes, his breathing, the way he moved slightly, how the sheets brushed against his skin. It was a little distracting, but you felt the tiredness take over you, the darkness surrounding you easily. Luke closed his eyes, but the only thing he could think about was your warmth. It was like an oven, and even if he was sweaty, his whole body was hot. He knew exactly what he had to do, what to say, and he stood there, in that abyss in which someone doesn't know what to do, if step forward or step back.

He needed to get it out of his chest, or else, he would regret it forever.

"I've always liked you"

His voice was barely a whisper, but in the silence of the room, it was loud. The air hitched on your throat. You turned your head to see him, but you only perceived he was turning his back to you.

"What?" you asked. Fearing that maybe, he was talking in his sleep.

Your heart began beating fast. It felt like the shower, a hot embrace.

"I've always liked you, yn" he repeated.

There was a moment of silence. Your eyes were trained on his figure, yet he didn't dare to look back at you. You felt a knot in your stomach, butterflies. Your breathing was calm, yet your heart was beating a thousand miles. Why was he telling you this now?

"I know you have a million things running through your mind right now and I know I'm being selfish, but" he said, words coming out like vomit, "I was so glad that I found you. I'm relieved that you're alive. I guess I'm letting all my emotions get in the way and that's why I'm telling you this now"

It was hard to formulate the right words. He didn't know what was going on, or what he was doing, he didn't know why. Maybe the heat had gotten into his head. It was stupid, the feeling, but he couldn't deny it. He knew that, sooner or later, he'd have to tell you.

Fuck, and if he was telling you this he was going to have to do it the right way.

He turned his body around once again, the bed creaking with his weight. You couldn't see much because of the dark, yet the tv light did just enough for you to see his glistening eyes.

"I know we haven't spoken in a while" he admitted, embarrassed. "But I've always cared for you and you know it. I realized why I cared so much after I lost you"

You stared at him, his brown eyes shining under the yellow light. He was right, the two of you didn't speak since a few years ago, but he was the one to blame. After his own mission, he blew everyone away, every person that tried to help him, including you. He though you did it for pity; he hates pity.

"So seeing you now, after nobody knew anything about you, it's just..." he continued, unable to find the right words. "I'm just glad I'm the one who found you. And I'm sorry about the shower, I-" he rushed himself to correct that mistake before you thought of him as a pervert. "I don't want you to think that I'm trying to do something with you. I wouldn't take advantage of you, and I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know that-"

You cut him off, "I know" you said, reassuring him. You let your hand fall back, placing it over the mattress. "Gods, relax, Luke" you breath out.

You let your hand hover his for a second, until he took the initiative to brush his fingers against yours, carefully and slow. The warmth spread from his hand to yours, and soon, the contact was enough. His eyes darted down, and his thumb brushed softly over the bruises and cuts on your skin.

He had so many things he wanted to say, but none of them left his mouth. He'd have time to do it later.

"Thank you" you said once again. One more time before the day ended didn't hurt anybody.

The corner of his lip twitched in a small smile. "Let's get to sleep, yeah?"

"Yeah" you whispered, "But, can you still hold my hand?" you asked.

Luke chuckled softly, squeezing your hand softly, almost pressing it against his chest. "Anytime"

[biancadoes1]

Hi,

First off, thank you for posting my post. Organized Anon. I never thought people would care what I had to write, just had to get that off my chest and I love a good list lol. I guess, I have more so here is part 2. Lol

Today will be the Wild West west for Lukolas. I see people sending in post that are all over the place.

I myself am not a lukola -per se. I love Nic and Luke. I would love if they dated. But I like to remain neutral. I find it is the best for me. For me.

I am seeing posts saying Nic and Luke are beefing bc he did not post for her bday and she has not liked her post. My advice is to not engage with people who think Nic is dating Jake. It is a waste of time. You could have ET standing next to you saying aliens are real and they still will not believe you. It doesn’t matter about posts talking about the meaning of sweet one, they will not listen. The only thing to prove a jakola wrong is to let them use their brain. Trust me, if you ask question that requires thinking, in a respectful way, they will not know how to respond or what to do.

again, saying Nic is with JD bc she went to his premiere is childish. Saying she is mad with Luke and she has been showing JD off since Luke went to Rome is childish. Saying there is beef between them is childish. yes, I am even calling so called Lukolas on this site out who are agreeing with things.

there is nothing we can say to prove or show. But again, ask yourself those key questions.. if she is dating Jake and they have been out an about all this time, why not just post or tag that is who she was with in her photo. Nic has a brain and smart. We know they went to the WT movie together and we know they spend time together so why not post or tag him- and she might later do this- but why be public with JD on certain days and private with him on other days- makes no sense. No logical sense. People already think they date, so why hide him on the bday post. -Because his is most likely isnt dating him. This is just from rational thinking.

again, think rationally. Why would two adults- who play a beloved fan favorite of Polin be beefing and put in on SM for the world to think so. It’s bad for the product. Look at the Amazon show, culpa tuya. The leads are apparently beefing and yea people are talking but Polin is a different type of love story. Shonda would not let dirty laundry out so stop with the beefing theory. People sound like children. And these are grown adult women. Stop thinking that people are vindictive and want to manipulate others. Go seek therapy and figure out why toxicity is a driving force in your life. If Nic was beefing, why is Luke all over her end of year dump. His photo is on the back of her phone. At the least, they are besties.

now the million dollar question- why did he post for Claudia Bday and not Nic. There are only two possible reasons. A. JD is her man and he did not want to take away from JD on her special day. OR B. Luke is her man or her and Luke are getting close and decided to make it private - no attention. I believe the latter based on rational clues. Extra extra eyes were on them this year. Commenting on her SAG post was loud but not posting is louder. Personal stays private.

Could I be wrong yes- lol. But I’ll leave with this. If Nic is dating JD, you will have people saying she trolled the fandom. And if you are being honest, it can be seen that way. Posting and not posting jd. Jd trolling as well, saying things like people want me to marry Luke , doing that audiobook. It’s just too much. And she will get push back and fans will leave. I don’t care how nice people think JD is, he is not worth losing fans for. But let’s not think on this. We will cross that bridge, when or a big big big big if we need too. thanks!!!

.

[ranchstoryblog]

Fandom Memories: HMFarm

Hmmm. So, nearly a quarter of you whippersnappers wanna hear about the good ol' days, huh? Well, back in the day, you wouldn't just hang out on one or two big websites to try to find people who shared your niche interests among a million random users. Everything had its own dedicated site, with its own special pack of weirdos that you probably wouldn't find anywhere else. Home grown fandom, sprouting from the cement sidewalks of the freshly paved internet like so many weeds with pretty little flowers on top. So, let's take a little stroll down memory lane and visit one of the oldest fan sites with Archive.org's "Wayback Machine."

Ahh, just like I remember it. This here is "Harvest Moon Farm." 'course, we just called it HMFarm, like the URL did. This used to be the place to be. The prime progenitor of all farmin' fansites in the English speaking community. Maybe not the literal first, but up until around 2005, this was where you would go if you wanted to know anythin' about digital farmin'. It truly was a magical place to visit.

This screenshot isn't the oldest design, but it's the one I fondly remember. The majority of my time using the site was during the lead-up to A Wonderful Life, which was probably also when it was the most active as an information source. Seeing the screenshots, checking the forums, speculatin', wonderin', dreamin'... It's a warm feeling. I can't really describe how it felt to look at these shots for the first time. Granted, they were mostly sourced from various places like IGN or Newtechnix, but who wanted to go to THOSE messy sites when all the info I wanted was right here? IGN wasn't telling me how to revive the Vineyard in Harvest Moon 64 while I was waiting for AWL news either.

Our first look at the character we would come to know as Muffy, the sheer novelty of being able to go into the townsfolk's glorious, 3D-rendered rooms, the apparent misidentification of flowering tomatoes... The webmaster, Gamergirl87, would caption each one as well. Some of the captions of those screenshots ended up not being exactly true, but it was the closest thing to on-going coverage we really had. Who else was there to trust?

It's a little off topic, but I think at one point after learning about the GBA connectivity, I must have dreamed about this very gallery and seeing a screenshot of a Gamecube-ized Popuri with the caption that Mineral Town villagers would visit after connecting the GC and GBA together. At least, I'm pretty sure it was a dream. I've met some people who claim they saw the same thing, but none of us have been able to find that screenshot or comment again.

The one that would most catch my attention was the one on the left here. I didn't have a PlayStation 2, so I was coming fresh off of the GameBoy and Nintendo 64 when going into A Wonderful Life. The pond, the mysterious glowing plants, the mood and ambiance of their lighting, the little tree on the door... Naturally, I mirrored it on my first day the remake was available.

It's a real shame that the message boards are poorly preserved, since it doesn't look like there was a news post about the pre-order plush cow. I was hoping to find the name of whoever it was that convinced me to commit my first ever preorder. I still have the receipt, but without the forum post it's really only tangentially related to HM Farm.

'course, just learning about existing games and upcoming games wasn't the only good thing HM Farm was for. As I alluded to, there was a whole community here! While it's a shame that the message boards aren't well preserved by the Wayback Machine, you know what is?

The "ideas" list! This incredible time capsule was one of the first "interactive" parts of the site, starting in the year 2000. It's kind of fun to see how many of these ideas actually happened. Obviously, new characters and personalities were probably expected, but Animal Parade would eventually feature a honeymoon, several games have clothing and other customization, a mall, city, and pig would be added as soon as GBC 3, a goat would be in A Wonderful Life... It's actually amazing how prescient a lot of the suggestions are.

I'd share the whole thing, but the amount of e-mail addresses involved gives me pause. Still, there's a couple I wanna highlight:

Considering how often I still hear about people wanting to marry the moms and people attributing it to just "the fans getting older," it's funny to see Laserion lay out that, no, we've always been like this. Right down to using Manna's unhappy marriage and Lillia's husband never returning as valid reasons they should be available.

Tuan145, on the other hand, I just find extremely amusing because of the specific "2002 Escalade" part. Yes, this is clearly the ideal vehicle for all farmers in the Story of Seasons universe. This is now accepted headcanon. The boat was added in GBC 3 too, so obviously a 2002 Escalade is going to be added any day now.

Another thing that's amazingly well preserved is the site's fan art section. There's a few missing images here and there, but for the most part the entire thing is open to explore. People of basically all ages and skill levels happily submitted their creations, including original characters, digital art, traditional art, crossovers with popular series like Sailor Moon, a liiittle bit of drug use... Y'know, all the kinds of things you'd expect to see in a fan art gallery of the day.

Even better, some of the artists are still doing art today! Looking around, I quickly discovered one of my favorites, Rina Cat, is now on Blue Sky. I made sure to ask for permission to repost their art before including it here. Reaching out to everyone would be a bit much though, so I'll just encourage you to just browse the gallery using the Wayback Machine yourself. There's poetry and fanfics too!

There's a lot more to the site, including useful bits of history like keeping track of release dates for games, pre-release screenshots, and information that was only available on Japanese websites at the time, but I'll leave it at that for now.

Unfortunately, though the site continued to be updated until 2010 and stayed online until 2021, it's no longer available on the regular internet and the URL doesn't seem safe to access anymore. I wanted to include an interview with the former webmaster as well, but all their readily available contact information was tied to the website and I haven't had any luck so far in finding other means of contact. If I have any success, I'll be sure to make a follow-up! If you have any memories of HMFarm, or other fan sites, I'd be happy to hear about it.

[milliesfishes]

౨ৎ꣑ৎRose Blush౨ৎ꣑ৎ

[fem reader] contains: fake dating pairing: coriolanus snow x fem reader author’s note: been awhile since I've done a coryo fic hehe hope you enjoy <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

Coriolanus stifled a yawn, forcing himself to stare at the sheet of paper in front of him. The words were blurring into each other, and he wasn't even sure what class he was in anymore.

The girl he'd taken out last night had been talkative to say the least. The servers at the restaurant had begun to clean up around them until Coriolanus had finally stood up and practically announced that he had an early morning and so they should call it a night.

She'd been fine with it, but when they had pulled up outside her house and he bid her farewell, she'd talked for another hour. It was midnight by the time he got home. Even know he could hear her voice grating at the insides of his mind. It was decidedly hard to focus.

At least she didn't attend the university. He wasn't sure if he could stand seeing her around here after that disaster of a night. It was the seventh in a lineup of women he'd been propositioned to take out. Old family traditions practically required it, and he'd entertained the notion. After all, if he wanted to get anywhere in the realm of politics, he'd need a wife at his side.

But the crop of debutantes proved disappointing. Charmless, rude, annoying. After last night, he'd had it. If it meant he'd have to attend every charity event and gala and dinner by himself, that was just fine. At least he'd be awake for school.

Even if he did that, he wouldn't be able to get away. The elder wealthy women of the Capitol were relentless, pushing their daughters or granddaughters in his direction. An eligible younger man was one of the worst things to be at social events. He attended to make connections, not flirt with every woman in the vicinity.

Now his jaw stretched in a yawn he reached up to cover just in time. Maybe he could skip the hour of study he usually took in the library and head straight home. He'd undoubtedly be turning in early tonight.

"Late night?" you asked sympathetically, blinking at him through your glasses.

Coriolanus nodded, fixing his tired eyes on you. A tiny smile graced your lips, and he felt a little more awake because of it. "Yes." You were another library regular, always lost behind a towering stack of books and scribbling something in your pink notebook. But the way he knew of you went beyond sharing space and having one or two classes together.

His last name was famous because of his father, one in a long line of important ancestors who shaped Panem in some way. Yours was for an entirely different reason.

The things people used to whisper about you when you were both still in the Academy were far from dignified. About your father's cowardice. The way your mother took a nightlife line of work after he deserted both the military and your family. Your brothers were nothing but trouble in the eyes of the public- drunks who caused a world of trouble in the streets.

He remembered seeing you during the war. Clinging to your mother's hand, a pair of teenagers lurking behind her. Tigris always had sympathy for you in particular. "She hasn't done anything, but because she was born in the wrong family everyone's awful to her." He always agreed. But he had enough problems of his own.

Class was dismissed, and you stood, folding your books back into place and keeping your head down as you made your way out of the room. He noticed people turning to each other, watching as you disappeared. Their whispers were no doubt unfavorable.

Coriolanus re-packed his textbook, wandering out into the hallway. Thinking about the war and his association of you with it had left him feeling some kind of way. He looked at his watch, any notions of tiredness suddenly fleeing. Maybe he'd head to the library after all.

You were there when he arrived, already writing in your notebook, head down, finger tapping at a line on an open page. Always the perfect student. He remembered that about you.

Turning to his usual table, he froze when he saw who was seated behind it. While his date last night didn't attend the university, several of his previous ones did, and two of them were sitting in a group of girls where he usually did. Ducking his head and hoping they didn't see him, he made for your table without thinking, pulling out a chair roughly and setting himself down.

When he looked at you, your eyes were already on him, brows knit in confusion. Coriolanus felt a twinge of sympathy. You likely weren't used to company like this.

"Can I help you?" The way you asked wasn't unkind. He stared at you for a moment, something brewing within. Your hair was pulled back, but a little strand had fallen from the clip at the back of your head, touching your cheek so delicately that he doubted you'd noticed.

The pack of girls giggled behind him. He leaned forward, words falling from his lips before he could stop them.

"I have a proposition for you."

"Pretend?" You leaned against the wall in the hallway where he'd ushered you, instinctively covering the strap of your bag. Coriolanus remembered briefly how fellow students at the Academy used to steal and hide your books from you.

"Pretend," he confirmed, resisting the urge to shift on his feet. "We would pretend to be...together."

"Why?" You asked it in such a non-judgmental way. Eyes innocent, lips parted just barely as you waited for his response.

Straightening, Coriolanus tried to explain clearly. "I need someone to be with me at different events. So it looks like I'm unavailable. To other women."

You tilted your head. "Why?"

He didn't feel like explaining his views on love at the moment. But your eyes were so earnest, and he almost felt like he could tell you every detail about his entire life and you'd listen. So he didn't lie. "I can't have a serious relationship right now."

"Hmm." Nodding, you bit the side of your cheek, looking to the side. "So what does this mean? I'd have to go to parties...but what else?"

"Dates, potentially." Coriolanus was a little surprised you were taking this so lightly. Any other girl would have laughed, maybe, or tried to turn the situation around. But you were simply listening, acting like you were taking it seriously. "We'd have to be seen together."

"Do I get anything out of it?" You were looking back into his eyes now.

He nearly did a double take. This was the most he'd ever heard you speak. "You could be compensated-"

"No. Don't pay me," you interrupted, shaking your head and looking away again. "It's too much like...it wouldn't feel right to me."

Coriolanus watched you, suddenly remembering one of the things he'd heard others say about your mother and how she earned a living. He didn't know what you'd been exposed to, but based on your expression, it couldn't be good. "Okay. Is there anything else you want?"

You thought for a moment, perking up a bit. "You have connections. And influence. Is there any chance you could use it...um..." Trailing off, your cheeks flushed.

"What?" His tone softened involuntarily.

Letting go of your bag, you began to fidget with your hands. "At the tuition offices, maybe?"

"Ah." He didn't mean to say it out loud, quickly remedying when you began to turn away, eyes on the ground. "Yes, of course. I'll see what I can do." It wouldn't be hard. Heaven knew how many times he'd had to butter up on charm for a discount for himself. Getting it for someone else would be a walk in the park.

"Okay." You looked back up. "Thank you."

"So we have a deal?" Coriolanus found himself nearly holding his breath. He almost kicked himself. An hour ago you were merely the youngest child of a disgraced family, only a classmate to him. But now you were the potential answer to his problems.

He couldn't say why he'd done it. Why he hadn't taken back what he'd said in the library and moved on. Seeing you look up at him had flipped a switch in his mind. Something about you was just...different.

After so many outings with women of his social class, he had come to know the way they all looked at him. There was a glint of hunger, and he knew what it was for. Money, power status. All packaged into one little look. You had more reason than any of them to have it, and he may have excused it if he did see it. But even when you were shyly asking him to use his connections, he didn't see it once.

Maybe that was why his heart practically jumped when you quietly said, "Yes." The way you responded was so meek. You were back to holding your bag strap, and another strand of hair had left your ponytail.

His heart jumped again. He'd have to get that under control if he was going to be spending so much time with you.

"Is this really necessary?"

Coriolanus took a sip of champagne before setting his glass down, staring at the curtain you were behind. You poked your head out, your ponytail falling over your shoulder. "I have plenty of clothes."

He knew that wasn't true. The sweater you'd worn to school that day had a hole in the shoulder and the hem, and he'd seen a new one under one of the arms when you reached for something on the counter. Even though you'd fixed your elbow back to the side almost immediately, he knew what he'd seen. It was third of a rotation of four sweaters he'd seen you in, and none of the others were in much better shape.

If he let you wear the same worn-out hand me downs as before, the relationship wouldn't be believable. Were you and him truly together, he would spoil you beyond belief.

"Yes," he responded, looking you in the eye. "It's necessary. Show me the first dress."

You exited, one hand tugging at the side of the silky black dress he'd picked out for you. "This is pretty."

"It is," he agreed, watching you look at yourself in the full-length mirror. The fabric clung to you everywhere it should, the slit in the leg not climbing high enough to be inappropriate. His eyes became fixed to the exposed sliver of your thigh for a moment before he shook it off. "We'll take that one. Try the others on too."

Pausing before you reached the fitting room, he saw you cup something in your hand, your neck bending to look at it. Whipping back around to Coriolanus, you took a step toward him with wide eyes. "This is too much."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Too much?"

You lowered your voice, eyes darting around the room even though it was just the two of you right then. "The price is too high." Shifting forward a little, you turned to the side, holding out the rounded tag so he could see.

Not bothering to look, Coriolanus shook his head. "It's fine. Go try another one."

"But-" You did a quick check of the room again before continuing. "I don't want you to spend so much on me."

"We still have to go to shoes and jewelry." Coriolanus pretended to check his watch, and you scurried back behind the curtain.

The rest of the dresses were a breeze. You slowly became more comfortable with it, fidgeting less with the fabric and standing up straight. By the last dress, he could nearly believe you were a high-born Capitol lady. Good. That was something to work with. He handed you off to one of the department store employees when you got to shoes and jewelry, wandering off to pick out a stack of new sweaters in your size.

He'd whispered a few extra instructions to the woman you'd walked off with, so after he'd handed over his card, he made himself comfortable in the furnished waiting area, accepting another glass of champagne. He pulled one of his schoolbooks out, figuring he'd knock out a bit of reading since you had both skipped the library to be here.

When you were brought back to him, your hair was tied up, and you were holding a small paper shopping bag. Coriolanus stood. You were back in the clothes you'd arrived in. "Where are the rest of your bags?"

"At the register," you said, biting the inside of your cheek. "This is more than I need-"

"What's in here?" he asked, gesturing to the bag you were holding.

He wanted to thumb your bottom lip away from your teeth. You were going to get a sore. "Hair things. And perfume. But Coriolanus-" Momentarily distracted by how your voice sounded around his name, he forced himself to listen. "-I can't bring any of this home."

"Why not?"

"My mother might..." you flushed. He nodded, urging you on. "The clothes would be fine because we don't wear the same size. But everything in here..." holding up the bag, you looked dejected. "She might take it and say it's for...clients."

"I see." He mulled it over for a moment, flipping through ideas. There was no way he'd ever admit it, but he knew the plight of having to guard fine possessions.

"Maybe I'll be able to hide it," you tried, swaying the bag. "I need to shower tonight with these. Maybe I can just hide them after I'm done."

"Here." Coriolanus held out his hand. When you hesitated, his voice dropped to a whisper. "We're supposed to be together."

You laced your fingers through his, and he picked up both your school bags and slung them over his opposite shoulder. The payment was already taken care of, and he knew the bags would have been brought out to the car already. Holding his head high, he guided you through the store, making sure you didn't fall behind him.

Once in the car, he turned the key and said casually. "We're going to mine."

"Why?" You pressed your knees together, brow knit once again. One day he'd like to take his thumb and smooth it out.

"So you can shower." Coriolanus pulled into the street, smoothly weaving through the few other cars out at this hour. "I'll have you home in time."

"Coriolanus," you said exasperatedly. "You already spent more on me today than anyone has in my life. You don't need to pretend with me in private too."

That snagged his attention. "It's not pretending with this. You..." Your eyes were on him, he could feel it. The pure magnetism of your being directed him to look back, and he would have had he not been driving. "You deserve nice things." There was more he could have said, but he left it at that. You were silent all the way to his penthouse.

The look on your face was similar to the one he'd seen when you first walked into the department store. You tried to play it off, but he knew the feeling well. Coriolanus' entire upbringing had been hinged on pretending not to have it. You hid it well, but he could still see the hints of it.

Coriolanus showed you to his bathroom, flipping the light on and setting you up with your new soap and perfume. He left you alone, wishing Tigris was here to balance things out. You needed a woman's touch, that much was clear.

He stayed in the living room after bringing one of the bags with your new sweaters and skirts inside, trying to pretend like he wasn't intrigued by the idea of you in clothes that weren't ill fitting.

It's not real, he reminded himself, staring at the notebook on the table. She's not your girlfriend. It's natural to be curious. It's just a girl in your bathroom.

"Coriolanus?"

His head snapped up. "Yes?"

"Um." There was a pause. "I'm bleeding."

"Bleeding?" Coriolanus leapt to his feet, rushing to the door. He pushed it open without thinking, greeted by the sight of you with a towel wrapped around your body, sitting on the bench in front of his bed. You were bent over, holding your hand to your leg, and when you looked up, your eyes were panicked.

"I cut myself when I was shaving," you said, voice small. "I'm sorry. I tried not to get blood on anything and I shouldn't have-"

"It's okay," he cut you off, disappearing into the bathroom and retrieving a band-aid from the cabinet, wetting one of his maroon washcloths before he went back to you. "Here."

You took the cloth, pressing it to the affected area and wincing a bit. Coriolanus sat with you on the bench, keeping about a foot of distance.

The towel was low on your chest, nearly exposing the tops of your breasts. Similarly, it hardly covered the tops of your thighs. More skin than likely anyone had ever seen from you. You hardly seemed concerned about it, brow knit over something trivial.

"I'm sorry," you repeated, looking up at him. He passed you the band-aid, and you very carefully peeled back the washcloth, and smoothed the sticky fabric over your skin.

"It's okay," he promised, a sense of familiarity washing over him that he wished he could shake off. "You're okay." Your wet hair was clinging to your shoulders, and it was easier to see the trimming you'd gotten in the department store.

He had to get out of there. "I'll be in the other room."

There was something about you that weakened him. That much was clear. Maybe he could back out of the deal, leave you with this one day of shopping and an awkward moment after you used his shower and go back to normal. Ignoring each other.

When you weren't wearing your glasses, he could see how pretty your eyes were. He inhaled sharply, swallowing and tapping a finger on the table. Back out. Definitely back out. This wasn't a good idea.

When you emerged from his bedroom, he had a speech prepared, but it all flew from his mind when he saw you fresh-faced and clean in your new sweater and skirt. You smiled, turning around and showing him the back. "Good?"

You inched closer, and he almost felt like he could see the difference. Some of the stress in your face had melted away, making you look younger almost. Between that and the clothes, you looked...pretty.

He stood, torn pieces of what he had been about to say coming back. "Good." Anything else he was about to say died on his lips when he inhaled, catching the scent of your perfume.

Roses. Coriolanus clenched his jaw.

Maybe he could manage to see this through.

[pan-kojiwa]

𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠?

𝐑𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 -> 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐑𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝, 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲. 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡.

CW: Sfw. (A little bit of tension)

WC: 2k

Waffle’s Note: Rin is aged up here, even this it’s not mentioned. It’s my first time ever writing for Rin so he might be a little ooc. A bit of self insert. Also you have a pet owl? Kinda proofread. (I literally had to stop cuz I kept changing/adding things)

You sigh, lost in your thoughts.

You and Itoshi Rin have been acquaintance for two years now. Yes acquaintances. It’s ridiculous right? You’ve been trying to convince him ever since but he just ignore you every time.

You two are friends— if not even best friends because clearly, if it wasn’t the case, how could he explain why ‘acquaintance’ are constantly glued together like you two? How could he explain how well you two know each others so well, to the point where he could see when you were faking a good mood? And come on now— what sensible person would crash at their acquaintance’s apartment out of the blue just to see their pet owl? 

Still, no matter what proof you could possible give him, he simply refused to acknowledge the truth. Yep. Even after two years of friendship—or should you say “acquaintanceship”, you still are a lukewarm nuisance.

Actually, he said pest at first… But you like to think of it as an auditory hallucination on your part. You know— for the sake of your ego.

To be fair, you do annoy him on a daily basis anyway, so you kinda see where he’s coming from. But whatever, he likes to yap about how much you annoy him but never takes action. That man loves your company.

You giggle, your eyes drifting to the ceiling, while your fingers idly tap one of your thigh. Lazily slumped on the couch you sink even deeper into it, your head resting against the armrest as you yawn. Yep, you’re bored.

Last week you needed cleaning supplies for your apartment. So you decided to go to the mall. But you don’t have a car. And you hate the lack of space and the pace of public transportation. So you asked you so generous and awesome friend that happens to have a car to drive you there. But of course he said no. You weren’t surprised though. That’s why you innocently mentioned needing to buy bedding and food for Hoo’ster your pet owl. And of course, as soon as you mentioned your pet, he changed his mind— begrudgingly but you didn’t care about that! 

Terrible mistake. Like people say karma’s a bitch, because you got yourself a ticket to a Friday movie night. Again. ‘Yaaay…’ You keep forgetting about the local video store on the way to mall, that for some reason, always have a display of their most recent arrival of horror movies. Seriously, how it’s only the horror section that gets displayed??

Oh, of course Rin immediately went to buy a copy. 

‘We’re watching in next Friday. You better show up.’ He said. You facepalmed.

A movement to your right jolted you out of your thoughts, making you turn your head. Rin, sitting beside you slightly shifted in his seat, slowly leaning forward. Eyes a little bit widened and the tip of his tongue sticking out. His head is even moving along with the scenes shown on the TV screen. 

You blink. ‘Wow…’ you were definitely used to this sight by now— yet you still look at him with the same fascination you’ve had over the year, dripping in your eyes.

The first time Rin invited you to watch a movie with him, you were ecstatic— well at least until you realised it was a horror movie. But anyway, at first you thought that he was finally warming up to you! You thought that you could ask him a bit more about himself and his hobbies! That you two could chat while watching the movie, even! Oh boy, how wrong were you. It’s also when.. you discover this— quirk, of his? You remember being a bit weirded out back then. You even tried to punch him. You know… to bring him back to reality.

Yet now…

Now, seeing him so fully immersed in the movie this way is… quite endearing.

“ - Rin?” You called out to him.

He doesn’t answer. 

… And that’s all you’ve been waiting for. The game begins.

In this game, you just need to shift Rin’s attention on you. Even if it’s for one second. The moment his eyes leave the screen, you win.

A cunning smile creeps up your face as you gently bite your index finger while trying to contain your excitement. When Rin is in this state, you can do pretty much anything you want to him and he won’t mind. Well not that he won’t mind— he’s just so focused on the movie that he’d basically ignore or let most of your shenanigans slide. 

It’s only fair anyway. Since Rin seems to have a passion in forcing you to watch movies that bore you to death, you’ll certainly enjoy your new passion: annoying the hell out of him when he’s hyper focused.

Of course at times it was pretty challenging, because the movies he chooses are generally pretty good, so nothing you did could really break his focus. But right now you’re confident. A gut feeling tells you that you can do it. 

You shifted on the couch straitening up yourself back into a sitting position. Your lips pressed together in a suppressed smile while your right hand discreetly makes its way to Rin's head, poking it.

“- Rinrin?” 

Of course he shows no reaction. You knew he wouldn’t. It takes more than that.

“- Rinrin~ I’m bored…” You say poking at his left cheek again and again.

“- Rin?” Poke. “- Riiin!” Poke. “- Rinrin.” Poke, poke.

Nothing.

Rin’s eyes are still glued to the screen. It’s as if nothing happened, like you’re not even here. Normally he’d have already smacked your hand away, scowling at you to stop that. But you refuse to let his lack of reaction stop you.

You raise your hand again, about to poke at his side, but he stops you before you can do it, simply grabbing your hand before placing it back on your lap.

‘Hehehe… it’s working’

You start to poke his side again, changing location often to avoid hurting him. And you even shamelessly move closer to him, little by little as you poke him. Until there’s no space left between you two. Then, you place your right hand on the back of his neck.

His head twitches slightly at the touch of your cold hand.

Now, now you just got a big reaction. A sly smile tugged at your lips.

Okay. So now you have to be careful, because breaking someone’s concentration could get them mad somtimes— like really mad. And in Rin’s case, it always result in a fight— not a physical on though. He would just spend days ignoring you, and you didn’t want that.

So to make sure that scenario doesn’t happen, you try to ease him a bit by gently rubbing his back. Your hand slipping further down tracing a line along his spine until you reach the small of his back, making him shiver.

You tilt your head a bit. It’s the first time he’s reacted like this— then again, it’s the first time you touch him like this… ‘Did that tickled?’ you ask yourself. 

Without pulling your hand off his back, you use your left hand to poke his shoulder repeatedly, letting it slide down to poke at his side again.

With a low rumble, Rin slaps your hand away. ‘Oh! There you go!’

You stare at him, trying to meet his eyes, but they’re still glued on the TV. It’s usually at times like this that he gets mad at you and demand you to stop. But right now he just slapped your hand away! You totally have a chance in winning! You almost want to get up and bounce around the room.

When you glance back at him, you immediately notice something. Something important. His tongue. He tucked it back into his mouth! Oh~ You are so winning this little game of yours! And for the first time ever!

Now, you just have to deliver the final strike.

 ‘A kiss on the cheek.’ You thought, internally cheering your victory already. 

You never kissed him on the cheek before— for obvious reasons, it’s Rin duh he won’t let you— so you’re hoping that this bold action would be enough to break the remaining bits of his already thinned concentration. So you went for it, placing just a little peck on his cheek.

But, the second your lips brushes his skin, he spins around, grabbing your arm with his left hand while shoving you a little bit roughly on the couch. You closed your eyes due to the impact.

When you open your eyes again, the first thing you see is Rin on top of you, pinning both of your hands above your head with his left hand, while supporting his weight with his other hand, placed right next to your shoulder. Suddenly, time freeze as you lay there, completely stunned. How are you supposed to react to what is just happening now?

‘What the hell is he doing??’

And what the hell is this situation? Rin Itoshi currently has you pinned down on the couch? This is completely new to you. Rin has never been like this— like grabbing you and shoving you against a wall to cage you between his arms? Never. Why would he even do that? Rin never really touch you. And if he does, it’s to push you away. So yeah, never. You almost thought he was playing a prank on you, for some reason. That is at least, until you meet his eyes.

His gaze on you is cold. Chilling you to the bone. Yet, you can feel the intensity of his stare burning a hole your face.

‘What—’ From then, you desperately try to look for a hint that he’s messing with you. You search desperately in his eyes some form of anger caused by your little game. In vain. There’s not a single drop of hostility or even his usual annoyance in his eyes. Just an intense and fiery gaze piercing through your defence, leaving you speechless.

You try to steady your breath as your eyes start to water from being open without blinking for too long. Your senses went numb yet at same time, you can still feel his hand slightly brushing against your shoulder, his knee pressed on your hip, and every single pore on your face, trying to regulate the rising temperature of your cheeks.

You can feel Rin’s shallow breath matching the rise and fall of your chest.

All the noise in the room disappear, filtered by the intensity of the moment. Your heartbeat is going crazy as he lets go of your hands, still staring you down. His, now, free hand makes its way to your cheek, gently brushing his thumb on your jawline.

He’s still looking at you, with the same burning intensity, which is now way too intense for you as time passes— intense to the point where you’re no longer able to withstand his gaze.

You avert your gaze, turning your head away from him. You feel dizzy, as if the room is spinning. Seeing your reaction, Rin’s hand slowly stoking your cheek, leaves abruptly, making your breath hitch. You got used to its warmth and now the cold sensation of its absence bites your cheek painfully.

You desperately want to say something. You want to ask Rin what has gotten into him, however the lump in your throat is forcing you into silence. It’s the first time that you’ve ever been this shy in front of him. But it’s also the first time that you can’t figure out what he’s thinking at all.

You just know that him pinning you under him this way, makes you feel so tiny— like a little mouse trapped in the paws of a cat. All you can do is to pray that he doesn’t eat you whole.

You finally muster up the courage to face him, turning back your head to face him. And right at that moment, you catch him staring at your lips. Your eyes widen instantly and your breath hitches. You try to say something. Anything. Yet nothing but a quiet squeak comes out, which makes him look back into your eyes.

Though, it’s too late. Your brain has already crashed.

You’re no longer present, well yes, you are because your body is here, but your mind? Long gone—literally evaporated.

Rin just looked at your lips…

You’ve never imagined yourself with him before. It never even crossed your mind once. He’s just a friend, that’s all he’s ever been to you. A friend— well okay a fucking good looking one. You can’t lie about that. And even if his personality can be quite the challenge, once you get to know him he’s not that hard to deal with. So… why does the idea of being in a romantic relationship with him doesn’t bother you at all? Like at all. If he asks you to go out on a date with him, like right now, you’d definitely accept right away.

Now that you think about it… since when did you even started to feel this way about him? Since when do you want to him to hug you and kiss you so badly?

And Rin? Does he feel the same way as you do? Does he feel something more than friendship for you. Is it for this very reason that constantly refuses your hugs and your affection? Was it why he looked at your lips?

As those questions swirl in your head, Rin gets up and turns off the TV, making is way to the kitchen. You bite the inside of your cheek, hearing him sigh softly while one of his hand runs through his hair.

“- Let’s get something to eat. I’m hungry.” He says.

You only nod, still a bit shaken up by what just happened.

In every movie nights, you’re in charge of the food. Rin tells you what he wants to eat and you either make it—when you feel like it, or you order it. But this time you didn’t even ask him what he wanted to eat. You can’t verbally face him yet, a ton of question still spinning in your head making it impossible to focus. Well, to be completely honest, you’re also being too shy to voice any of your questions. Which is really not like you.

Rin sits down on the dining table and looks at you briefly. It’s quiet. You’re quiet. Too quiet. You’ve never been this quiet ever with him, and that seems to bother him deeply. He tsk in annoyance, a frown tugging at his brows as he seats down at the dining table.

“- For someone who’s always pestering me, trying to get a reaction out of me, now that you’ve got it, you’re this quiet? How tepid.”

Your heart begins to race again as he brings up what has just happened. You never expected him to be the one to mention it first.

“ - I was just… It’s weird! You’ve never done that before, that’s why!” You blurt out defensively.

“ - Keep messing with me like that, and I’ll do it again.”

There’s a brief silence and you blink, processing what he’s just said. Did he just...? You tilt your head and raise an eyebrow, well you were used to Rin being bossy— but not like this? Feeling more confident thanks to him, you smirk, your true self slowly coming back out.

“ - I’ll just have to get used to it.” You retort with a challenging tone.

Rin locks eyes with you, and for a brief moment, you spot that same intense look he had earlier when he pinned you down on the couch. And, just as quickly, his gaze shifts to your lips, then back to your eyes.

“ - I’ll just have to shut you up.”

Rin’s phone suddenly rings, cutting through the silent stare down, the building tension between you two had created. And not without glancing at you one last time, he gets up, heading out of the kitchen to answer the call.

You’re left sitting here, heart racing like a wild horse in your chest. A big but dumb grin plastered on your face, your cheeks and ears burning hot, as you couldn’t help but think out loud.

“ - Guess we’re still not friends then.”

GOD… this took longer than expected. I KEPT ADDING STUFF THATS WHY 😭 I yap a lot when i write. I swear it was supposed to be a 700/1K drabble . But anyways I really had fun writing this!! I Got inspired by my interaction with the Rins RP blog! (I love them so much! Shout out to the mods!) I might do one for Sae but Idk yet.

Well thank you if you read till here!

[vxsellie]

‧₊˚┊simple living things﹗

a hunger games!au ellie williams fanfiction.⌇ 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭 𝔦𝔦

summary. to give a final goodbye to someone you love is generally the last thing anyone would ever wish to do. though, when being shipped off to your death, it's the equivalent to being given a final meal whilst on death row.

content warnings. abuse, mentions of death, implications of murder, and (the worst of all) a lesbian breakup

total wc. 5,225

notes!! here she is! i wrote this in one sitting on the night before christmas, literally up until two am bc my thoughts wouldn't stop flowing (ive had writers block for the past few months so you couldn't pry my keyboard from my cold dead hands). anyway here she is! once again, reminder that it's better read on ao3!

𝜗𝜚 series masterlist ⸝⸝ playlist ⸝⸝ ao3 𝜗𝜚

14:45.

DISTRICT SEVEN.

“What were you thinking?” 

Despite how loud Marlene’s voice is, it sounds rather muffled. Ellie’s thoughts all jumble together into a plethora of unintelligible abstraction. This results in outside noises becoming equally as cryptic.

After the Reaping, both tributes were escorted into the Justice Building and forced into separate rooms. Having grown up amid the Games, Ellie’s aware that this is the part where she’s supposed to say her final goodbyes to her loved ones — an hour of time allotted to these farewells. And, despite knowing that all twenty-three other tributes are going through the same thing, Ellie couldn’t feel more alone. There’s a sickening sense of finality to this. Like she’s cattle bred and born to await death. Like there’s nothing more to her life aside from this — being Reaped to never return.

And, with the time given, Marlene has opted to use the entirety of her visit reprimanding Ellie for how she’d acted on stage. Not that she doesn’t deserve to be chastised, she knows she does, but it’s still fucked up.

See, after her name had been drawn, Ellie’s entire world fell out from under her feet. She knew there was a possibility of her name being drawn, she’d be a fool not to at least acknowledge that fact. But to look that fate in the eye and have no way of revoking it? That’s an entirely different pill to swallow. As she stood atop that stage, the escort’s piping voice ringing through her ears, Ellie simply could not seem to comprehend it. But then she felt a weight in her hand, a warmth. She turned to see Riley, her jaw set and her eyes darkened. She grabbed Ellie’s hand and hoisted it into the air.

To Ellie, it was a rather odd thing to do. But, as Marlene is pointing out presently, it was an act of defiance against the Capitol itself. Ellie had no idea. Not that she doubts it, what with Riley’s outward distaste for the government, but it just hadn’t dawned on her that the mere act of holding a friend’s hand would piss off the Capitol. It’s kinda funny.

“What could you possibly be laughing at?” Marlene groans, her pacing coming to a halt as she whips around to face Ellie. Her expression isn’t one of rage, as initially expected. Instead, it’s one of genuine panic. Well shit, apparently holding hands really is treason.

Ellie doesn’t respond, her face dropping instantly. She pins her gaze to the floor, staring at the same rusted nail she’s been looking at for the past ten minutes. In fact, she’d been so zoned out that she hadn’t picked up a single thing that Marlene was trying to say. Usually, this would amuse her. But now, with her impending doom so leering, she can’t help but feel ashamed. She may never see Marlene again. And then what? Her last memory of the girl she’d raised from infantry would be of her zoned out whilst curled into a ball on a dilapidated sofa. That’s rather pathetic, is it not?

She shudders, pulling her knees even closer to her chest at the thought. She doesn’t yet know who was Reaped from the other Districts, but she’s sure they aren’t all pouting on their couches like children. Still, she can’t seem to remove herself from this position — one of self comfort. 

Something touches her knee and she flinches, tearing her gaze from the floor. She looks up to see Marlene sitting beside her on the couch, her gaze softened. Ellie hadn’t even noticed her approach. Fuck. See, this is the exact thing she’s worried about. If she were to zone out like this in the arena, she'd be dead within minutes.

“You didn’t hear anything I just said, did you?” Marlene asks with a sigh. A wave of guilt washes over Ellie’s body before she nods, admittedly having heard nothing. “I was saying I’m sorry. I don’t mean to shout at you like this, especially considering the situation. I’m only lecturing you because I’m worried. I’ve seen the Capitol kill people for less than holding hands.”

Ellie shakes her head, though the act is faraway. “The Capitol can’t kill us now that we’re tributes. To do so would only result in more defiance from the viewers. They’re anticipating a show, to kill off the characters would be antiprogressive.”

“No, but they can surely make your time in the arena worse.” Marlene points out. 

Ellie thins her lips at this, but ultimately says nothing. This is not what she wants to hear right before being sent to her death. She wants consolation and comfort, not reminders of how little control she has in her own life. But that’s just how Marlene is — she gets stressed and rambles. Most of the time, it's a harmless habit. Right now, though, it’s proving to be rather taxing.

“Look,” She sighs, “I’m not good at this whole thing, talking. Everyone knows that. It’s– Well, it’s the entire reason I never had any kids of my own.” She sighs again trying desperately to make sense of her thoughts and word them in a way that doesn’t sound like an insult. “I never wanted children, but raising you was the best thing that ever could have happened to me. Losing you would thereby be the worst thing to ever happen to me. I only shouted at you because your safety means everything. But— you’re strong, Ellie, and so very brave. If you put your mind to it, you can make it out of that arena. I believe in you. All you have to do is believe in yourself.”

Ellie is certain that’s the most Marlene has ever spoken in one go without shouting or giving up halfway through. And for that, she’s grateful. Ellie swallows harshly, her throat suddenly feeling too big for her neck. She leans forward.

She doesn’t hug Marlene, not necessarily. She simply flops into her, thumping her forehead onto her shoulder. Her body is stiff and her jaw is clenched tight, but the act of the touch still carries a sense of sentimentality to it. Especially considering she and Marlene never hug. In fact, she thinks she only ever hugged her once in her whole life. Again, it’s not anything to pity her for, it’s just their relationship. A fact of life. Some people are touchy, others aren't. And Marlene is definitely among those who are not.

She rubs a hand up and down Ellie’s back, though it’s more so to do something with her hands rather than to comfort her. 

They remain like that for a long time, sitting in silence because neither of them are skilled at voicing their emotions. Ellie’s mind continues to move at a million thoughts per second, though it slows a little in the absence of Marlene’s shouting.

Roughly twenty minutes go by before Marlene pulls away. She has a hand on each of Ellie’s shoulders, a foot between their faces. She stares at her, brown eyes flicking across each one of her features, as though to memorize her before departure. Ellie mimics her, taking in the sight of the woman who raised her — from the slope of her nose to the arc of her brows. Afterall, this might be her last time to do so. No matter how hard she believes in herself.

“I ought to go visit Riley.” Marlene says with an awkward cough, standing from the couch. “She doesn’t have any family aside from you and I.”

It’s true. Riley’s family is rather complicated seeing as she doesn’t have any. It took seven years of being Riley’s friend before she confided in Ellie about her past. And, after hearing it, she couldn’t blame her for her hesitance. 

Her father was a rebel. He hated the Capitol and everything related to it. He wasn’t married to Riley’s mother when she got pregnant, hadn’t even been dating. They simply had a fling and moved on — hence his oblivion to the fact that she’d been a Peacekeeper. Riley’s dad lived a life of tranquil solitude, aside from frequent whippings as punishment for opposing the Capitol so vocally. Truly, he’d been lucky to not be assassinated on the spot for his insubordination. The entirety of Seven knew him for his rebellious nature.

So, when Riley’s mother came forth with an infant in her arms, he was shocked. He couldn’t believe that she’d gotten pregnant. Though, more importantly, he couldn’t believe she was a fucking Peacekeeper. He tried to keep his calm, civilly agreeing to partial custody over their daughter. 

But, when Riley was about four years old, their refined consensus came to an abrupt end. They got into an argument. And a bad one, at that. Nobody knows the exact details to its origin or entailments, but it’s widely known how it ended — Riley’s mother dead and her father as an Avox for the Capitol. His punishment for her murder.

Riley subsequently grew up in an orphanage, though she inherited her father’s rebellious nature and oftentimes escaped over the fence. She’d spent more time in the woods than she had in the decelit building — chopping wood and climbing trees and visiting the Hob. She’d grown rather skilled at it, the illegality of escaping. She met Ellie in elementary. She’d been scaling the fence, intending to flee the school. Ellie had caught her and insisted she teach her how to do it. Begrudgingly, Riley agreed. From there, with many details gone unmentioned, they became friends. Now look at them Reaped for the Hunger Games together. Ugly ending to a beautiful story.

“Yeah.” Ellie agrees curtly to Marlene’s suggestion. “Yeah, she’d appreciate that, I think.”

Marlene nods in agreement prior to turning on her heel and exiting the room.

Ellie sits alone for a few minutes, returning to her humiliating fetal position. She hugs her legs to her chest, dirty shoes on the cushion of the couch. Though the sofa isn’t in the best shape considering the prodding springs and frayed stuffing. She rests her chin on her knee, staring at the rusty nail she’s grown so fond of.

She’s not sure how long she sits like that before a knock is heard at the door. She groggily tells them to enter, causing the door to creak on its hinges. A face pokes inside prior to the body attached. Cat.

Her black hair is done up, pinned into a purposefully messy bun, bangs cut shorter than usual. It looks put together, but in that I-woke-up-like-this way. Her eyelids are colored in a shiny crimson, her lips in the same glossy tint. Her skin looks inhumanly smooth, her eyebrows impossibly thin. She’s wearing a strapless baby pink dress that’s uncomfortably close to the shade of her skin, coming to her midthigh. Her shoes are the same red as her eyes and lips, clicking against the wooden floor as she walks. She looks like a Capitolite in the way her features are accentuated, though human enough for Ellie to still find her attractive

She instantly straightens, confused. “Why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be on a train to the Capitol?”

“Well,” Cat begins, shutting the door softly behind her as she walks over to the couch Ellie is curled atop. She sits down beside her, the cushion dipping under her weight, which instinctively pulls Ellie toward her. “I caused a bit of a scene, insisting I had to see you. And, considering it’s a hassle to find another stylist so late into the Games, I simply dared them to fire me. They didn’t, of course, and instead opted to just give me time to see you, albeit minimal.”

Ellie laughs, though the sound is hollow. This draws a tight expression from Cat as she takes in the sight of the girl before her. Ellie suddenly feels self conscious, wearing a wrinkled linen shirt while Cat looks like a literal fucking deity. Not to mention the pathetic way she’s presenting herself — small and weak. She sits upright, swallowing as she runs her hands down her shirt in a futile attempt at flattening it.

Cat stops her, placing a hand on her wrist. Ellie looks at the place where she touches her, taking in the sight of her perfectly done nails. Baby pink with crimson colored accents. God, every single detail of her is altered for the Capitol’s preference.

“I got you something.” Cat whispers, removing her hand from her wrist to reach into the purse Ellie hadn’t even noticed she carried with her. She holds out her hand, a small piece of metal resting in the center of her palm. A ring, in the shape of a moth. The body is the centerpiece, the wings made to wrap around the finger. “Here,” Cat grabs Ellie’s hand, pulling it forward before slipping the ring onto her index. 

“I love it,” Ellie breathes, holding her hand out in front of her to admire the ring.

“I made it myself.” Cat says. Ellie should have guessed. She knew Cat enjoyed making jewelry, using spoons and other random hunks of metal to concoct something ugly into something pretty. She’s spoken of the hobby before, though she’s never revealed any of the end products. This is Ellie’s first time seeing one of them.

She suddenly recalls the rule that tributes are permitted to bring one token into the arena from home. One thing to remind them of their identities — which are sure to be lost in the Games. Ellie had completely forgotten about the rule, it never having crossed her mind. But looking at this ring now, she’s certain this is the perfect thing to bring. A reminder of home. Not of a place, but of a person. Of Cat.

“I love it.” Ellie repeats more furtively, turning to kiss her.

However, before their mouths are able to touch, Cat lifts her hand to Ellie’s chest. She pushes her away. And, though the act is as gentle as possible, Ellie still feels as though she’d been shoved. She leans back. Cat’s expression is pained, not at all matching the cheerful makeup she wears.

She shakes her head, eyes squeezed shut. “I love you, Ellie. Truly. A part of me likely forever will. But– to be in love with you would only end in causing us both an insurmountable quantity of pain. I can’t consciously do that to you. Even our current relationship is deteriorating your mental health. You’re too dependent on what we have, too afraid to lose it. To allow you to continue down this road would be wrong of me. To even have begun it was wrong. And now that you’re going into the arena, I just– adding yet another burden to your shoulder would be wholly immoral.”

Ellie doesn’t know when, but amid that confession, she’d begun crying. Not just due to the breakup, though, if she could even consider it that. But due to everything. Riley distancing herself recently, the Reaping, Marlene’s shouting, Marlene’s halfhearted farewell, and now this? On top of it all?

“So you’re breaking up with me to ease your own fucking conscience?” Ellie snaps. She doesn't mean to say it. She doesn’t. It’s just all become so much for her to carry. And it’s so easy to drop it on Cat after what she’d just done.

“No.” She insists, nigh pleading in her denial. “Ellie, no, you know that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then why even give me this?” She asks, holding out her hand with the ring on it. “For me to bring a reminder of your absence into the arena?”

“No, no.” Cat continues to deny Ellie’s accusations. “Not to remind you that I left, but to remind you why I left.”

Ellie scoffs, “Now you’re just saying shit. You’re not even trying to make sense.”

“Moths, Ellie.” She says, grabbing her hand in desperation for her to just fucking listen. “They’re attracted to the light. No matter where they go or– or what environment they’re placed in, they find a light. Something to always keep them going. Something to fight for. Something to reach. I’m holding you back, don’t you see? I don’t want you to fight to get home. I want you to fight because you know you’re worth it. You’re worth living for, even without me or Riley or Marlene. For you. Be your own moth, your own light.”

Ellie wipes roughly at her face, fists scrubbing at her eyes painfully. She wishes she had something clever to say. Something smart that would make Cat rethink everything. But all she can muster is a mumbled, “Moths are fucking ugly.”

14:45.

DISTRICT FOUR.

Your ears are ringing, a loud chiming sound that makes your head swim. Despite this, you keep your chin high as your mother shouts orders at you. You’ve long since tuned her out, which is something you’d never had dared to do prior to the Reaping. But you’re being sent to the arena — you’ll either die in there and never see her again, or you’ll come back a victor and thereby be of higher status than her. Whatever you do now matters naught.

She’s rambling on about something regarding orders to return home. Not because she cares for your wellbeing, but because it’d shame the entire family if you were to die on live television. 

She’s standing across the room from you, her pale blue dress somehow perfectly cleaned despite the journey she made across the grassy courtyard to the Justice Building. Her wrinkled face is contorted into an unreadable expression, the illegibility irritating you. Her golden cane is perched under her clasped hands. God, the woman is the embodiment of power despite having earned none. 

“I get it.” You cut her off, tone just as sharpened as hers, almost as though you’d spent years honing it into a blade serrated enough to challenge her. “I’ll come back. If not, you’ll be embarrassed. Poor you, right?”

The expression of shock on her face is almost worth the punishment — which ends up being hit by the end of her cane. Had it been the usual wood, the pain would be tolerable. But it’s pure gold, causing your mouth to fill with blood. You spit onto the floor and she begins to reprimand you for doing that, deeming it to be improper. You ignore her, massaging your newly bruised face.

The punishment for your statement would likely have been far more severe if you weren’t destined to be put on camera for the country to gawk at. A wound on your face would be shameful. A bruise, though? Your prep team can surely cover that up with a bit of makeup.

She finishes her castigation, seeming to have worn herself out. She then turns and storms out of the room. You almost didn’t notice her swift exit, as she’d made no effort to say goodbye or wish you luck. Just ten minutes of shouting prior to causing a splitting headache and a bruise to the jaw, uncaring to hear you utter a single syllable. Best mom ever.

See, most people deem this event as emotional — an hour allotted to parting ways with your loved ones. But your mother doesn't see this as a parting. She expects to irrefutably see you again. And very shortly, at that.

You’re alone in the room for only a few seconds before a shy knock is heard at the door. You’re confused by this, unsure of who else could be here to see you. “Come in.” You call out, moving to stand over the stain of blood you’d left on the shiny hardwood floor. Thankfully, your dress is long enough that the skirts cover up the space beneath you.

The door opens and a wrinkly old man pops inside. Your lips part at the sight of mister Alden entering the room. You rush forward, offering your aid in his walking. He takes it, looping his arm around the crease of yours.

There’s a small couch with two cushions in the corner of the room. You walk him over to it, easing him onto the sofa before sitting next to him. You cross your legs, “What are you doing here? I know it’s a far journey from where you live.”

He sighs, “You’re like a daughter to me, Y/n. And, though neither of us are willing to address that aloud, we’re both well aware of it. I’ve known you since you were three years old and just learning how to walk. In fact, I can vividly recall the very day I’d met you — you were asleep on your brother’s back, clinging to him like a sloth as he made the trek down to the docks. You were such a small thing, then. Chubby little face and a diaper that didn’t fit.” He smiles fondly, looking at you as though he still views you that way, a baby. “The point is, to not visit you would be cruel. And I’m not a cruel man.”

Your eyes burn as you listen to him. He’s right. You both know it. You and Ruben are like children to him. And he is definitely not a cruel man. You wonder if he’d visited Ruben when he was Reaped. Probably. But you don’t dare ask, not wanting to speak of your brother any more than necessary.

“Oh!” He jolts as though he’d just remembered something vitally important. 

You watch as mister Alden reaches into the pocket of his coat and pulls out a dainty necklace. A white pearl resides in the center, acting as a pendant to the thin silver chain. Your gaze softens as you look at it hanging between his shaky fingers.

“It’s beautiful.” You tell him.

“I want you to have it, to take it into the arena.” He says. “You remember my granddaughter, the one who was facing her first Reaping today? She made it for herself, and planned to wear it into the arena had her name been drawn. She spent weeks searching for the perfect pearl, then another few weeks saving up money to buy the chain.”

Your chest twists at hearing this. You could easily buy something like this from a small shop down by the beaches. It wouldn’t even cost you a day’s allowance. You shake your head. “I can’t take this from her. It’s too special.”

“I insist.” Says he. “When she heard your name called, she instantly turned to me, slipped the necklace into my pocket, and demanded that I bring it to you.” He lets out a light chuckle. “Her ferocity reminds me of you, actually. I don’t even remember telling her about my visits to your house. No shock she found out, though, she’s so bright for her age.”

With a grunt, he pushes to his feet. You rush to do the same, standing beside him in case he needs assistance. Instead of asking for aid, he tells you to turn around. Without hesitation, you oblige. You then feel something cold wrap around your neck. You look down to see the thin necklace now placed across your collarbones. It’s absolutely stunning. Mister Alden fumbles with the clasp, his shaky hands struggling to work the tiny thing.

When he finally gets it on, you turn around to see that he has tears in his eyes. He takes in the sight of the pearl necklace paired with the navy dress, the silver chain matching the silver diamonds adorning it. He nods, wiping roughly at his eyes. “You’ve grown into such a lovely young woman.”

You swallow the lump in your throat before pulling him into a hug, having to hunch over a bit due to his lack of height. He hugs you back, sniffling. It’s rather telling that the random stranger that you buy your seafood from is more caring than anyone in your family. But he’s not a stranger, is he?

After a few minutes of sentimental embrace, he finally parts from you and leaves. On the way out, you catch a glimpse of a tear rolling down his cheek, the droplet catching the light for a split second.

Alone in the room with about ten minutes remaining, you walk over to the window. You look at your reflection in the shined glass, taking in the sight of the necklace. Knowing how long it’d taken to create only adds to its beauty. The dresses your mother has fitted for you are paltry; replaceable. But this? Nobody could recreate the months spent making it, nor could they recreate the small hands that did so.

The sound of footsteps entering the room draws you from your thoughts. You catch his reflection in the window before he’s even fully through the door. Your entire body tenses, something shifting in the air at his presence. Something deep, deep inside you. Like the atoms that make up your very being have been furtively yearning for this moment. For his proximity.

You turn to face him fully.

Ruben.

You’ve seen him around, of course. You’d seen him less than an hour ago. Everyone has seen him, what with the Capitol flashing him around nigh as much as the country’s flag. He’s their brightest diamond and their largest star — the abnormal mixture of UY Scuti with Sirius, creating something impossible to tear one's eyes away from.

You two have spoken as well, albeit in short increments and only when mandatory. So, truly, you’re not sure if it counts in terms of conversation.

He shuts the door slowly, facing you with an unreadable expression. No– that can’t be right. You could always read him, you could always understand him. But right now, not a single word comes to mind as you look at him. He’s a closed book that you’d once memorized every page of.

He stares at you for a moment, gaze lingering on the bruise forming on your cheek. You wonder if you should hide it or not. But he likely knows exactly how it was induced — knowing the feel of your mother’s cane all too well, as he’d grown up taking hits for you daily. It takes a few minutes, but he eventually tears his eyes from your face and looks around the room, looking at the intricate ceiling or the swaying chandelier.

“Been a while, huh?” He huffs a laugh, though it’s dry and lacking any scrap of genuine humor.

You think about this, about what he said. It’s been a while. The world’s biggest understatement, that is. You’re suddenly filled with an immeasurable amount of rage. It’s been eleven fucking years. And he has the nerve to say it’s been a while?

Eleven years since he was Reaped. Eleven years since he was the one in this room. Eleven years since you came to visit him, sobbing and begging him not to go to the arena. Eleven years since Ruben returned from the arena. Eleven years since your brother never returned. Eleven years since the boy who raised you, who protected you, who taught you to walk and talk and eat, vanished.

You say nothing to him, not trusting yourself to speak without either screaming or crying. Or, most likely, both. So, insead, you remain silent.

Ruben sighs, leaning back against the wall with crossed arms. Something about that action makes you visibly wince. He’s so confident. The Ruben you knew was an awkward young boy, made complete with lanky limbs and oversized eyes. Strange little habits — like the way he didn’t ever know what to do with his arms, or the way he always tapped his left foot when he was nervous — made him human. But not anymore. He now knows exactly what to do with his arms and he wouldn’t dare show when he’s nervous. His humanity is just another thing the Capitol stripped him of.

“You don’t have to say anything, just listen.” Says Ruben. He then inhales deeply, his jaw set and eyes piercing; a Capitolite in all but name. “This is the last time we won’t be monitored. After leaving this room, everything will be tracked and recorded and analyzed — the train, the center, the arena. From here, you’re never alone. Even in the bathrooms, privacy doesn’t exist.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “So you’re saying you need to tell me something the Capitol can’t hear?”

“Yeah,” He breathes, “Exactly.”

“Okay, so what is?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. Of course that’s what he’s here for. Not to wish you well or say goodbye — though he likely also expects you to win; he was raised by the same monsters, after all — but, instead, to warn you. To make sure you survive the arena so as to not penetrate the family name.  

“Something is wrong with this year’s Reapings.” He explains. “Districts Two and Three both had a pair of siblings Reaped – Lev and Yara from Two, Sam and Henry from Three. Then, if that weren’t enough proof as is, Districts Five and Seven both Reaped a set of best friends — Selene Jones and Ariande Evans from Five, Riley Abel and Ellie Williams from Seven. Not to mention the pair of lovers that were Reaped from Six — Roland Jennings and Archie Bardot.”

You take in what Ruben is saying, thinking hard about it. You were Reaped alongside a small child, a little boy who you’d never seen before in your life. That doesn't seem rigged, but there ought to be some kind of intentional malice behind it.

“How do you know all of this?” You ask, though you know the answer. “The Reapings haven’t aired yet.”

“I know people.” He says rather ashamedly, as though he’s already aware of the kind of reaction this will draw from you. 

Anger sparks up once more at the mention of his ties to the Capitol. Not only is he using the Capitol to help you in the games — a perk no other tribute has — but he’s managed to fucking memorize every name name of importance. You don’t want to be treated as some sort of celebrity. You were Reaped with equally poor luck as Lev, Henry, or Ellie; or whatever their names were. You should therefore be held to the same expectations, not given hints into the Games. Which, by the way, is highly illegal. Not like Ruben would be punished. He could probably murder a Peacekeeper on stage and manage to get away with it. 

It makes you sick.

“Okay, great.” You bite. “You told me what you needed, you can leave now.” “No, Y/n, you’re not understanding.” He insists, taking a step forward. You take one backward, almost on instinct. A pained expression crosses his face, though it vanishes just as quick as it’d appeared. He sighs, running a hand down his face. “These tributes won’t be killing for the sake of winning, they’ll be killing to save themselves alongside their loved ones. Had you and I been in the arena together, our strength would have doubled. Just imagine that. For at least five other Districts, their wills to live are multiplied. And the—”

His words are cut off as the door slams open and Peacekeepers come filing into the room to rudely announce that your time is up. It’s time to board the train to the Capitol. To the Games.

[post] notes!! don't really have any (for once), i'm just so so so so excited for u guys to read this bc i write things way prior to posting bc i like to proofread like 50 time before releasing it. anyway yeah, u guys barely know abt this bad boy while im typing this

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[inchidentally]

this is such a sweet quote and Lando's said exactly the same as well <3<3

but askfgsalfg why is this proving what I've kinda been suspecting and Zak doesn't rly fit in with landoscar and has largely not had as much to do w the driver partnership as he used to

we already knew from Andrea that Lando and Oscar do their own little separate debriefs and they were so excited about getting their own door separating them from everyone where it used to be in a shared hallway (including Zak)

but the golf, the dinners and the marketing stuff is all referring to Carlos' and Daniel's eras. Oscar couldn't even be bribed to play golf, is literally famous for not wanting to do marketing/contrived PR content and not being good at it, and the only "dinner" situation after Hungary was Lando and Oscar eating fast food with other drivers and then playing board games with Alex on the flight home ?? we also know that these debrief dinners don't happen otherwise bc Oscar usually goes home to sleep or out with Lily and Lando goes out being a very single guy or gaming w Max and BanKai etc. that post race debrief finishes and those two peace OUT. and tbh the amount that they've chosen to fly together to and from things now Oscar lives in Monaco, they've taken even more of that debriefing into their own hands!

like I just get the vibe that Zak doesn't rly have the boys club anymore and Andrea being Dad to his two kids is how things are rly being managed. even down to him sometimes wanting to be the bad guy that the two kids bond over hating sometimes even tho they love Dad really. that's just not a dynamic I see Zak fitting into. (and ngl probably some of the Daniel era in particular those tensions needed to be managed between him and Zak but aaaaaanyway)

I say this as someone who fully expects Lando and Oscar to have normal teammate fights at some point where there's the strong words to the media and angry radios etc etc - the fact that they decided so early on in their relationship to do a teammate version of 'private but not secret' couple thing of keeping fans and media out of their business, both good and bad, means they're absolutely discussing and strategizing about this (bc especially after alpinegate and taking Daniel's seat, it would've been very handy and easy for them to go a bromance angle!). which as a charlos veteran and also someone who knew the Max and Lando fight would blow over faster than anyone thought it would, I'm never going to be fazed by a fight between Lando and Oscar - but I'm also just not sold on it ever getting as out of control as so many people want/expect it to. and I feel that way partly at least bc I think there's been sort of a gen z gender neutralling happened to McLaren bc of this partnership (not as much of the usual of masculine/boys being boys energy*)

but also bc there's only one big personality/celebrity instead of two. off the track, Lando and Oscar perfectly compliment each other's personalities including how their friendship is a quiet thing rather than a big media-beloved bromance so they don't have the burden of managing fan expectations and reactions about it. you can kind of parallel it with the Lando and Max fight last season bc those two are genuinely involved in each other's lives as friends and spend the most time with each other than any other driver, including Lando being a regular fixture in Max's little family - but Max doesn't do PR at all so a lot of people still don't know how close they are. so the assumption was that their fight was this massive thing and the end of their relationship but a lot of us were like pfffff this'll blow over and Penelope's uncle will be back before she could even notice.

in the same way, Lando and Oscar doing all their bonding time out of the public eye and being the only two people who truly know how they feel about each other at any time means they are the only authority anyone should listen to! when they say 'fight over' they mean fight over! when they giggle and laugh waiting for a plane together after Monza or smile in relief at each other immediately after getting out of the cars in Hungary, then that's the truth! they're choosing not to let fans and the media in on this so that fans or the media can't feel they know better and contradict them!

and that's where I think Zak is more on the outside of things too. when even Andrea is like yea these boys are talking about things before speaking to their own teams then it feels like that's a real shift away from the explosive teammate dynamics everyone keeps referring to.

*which I'm not saying is inherently bad or toxic! esp since the dynamic of it with Lando and Carlos and Daniel was of scrungly little brother and adoring loud big brother <3

[blushsturns]

perv!matt x innocent!reader ♡

part 4 ❤︎ wet dreams

hcs - 1 - 2 - 3

❤︎ description: matt wakes up from a wet dream and starts to text you about it, but you invite him over instead. (in matt’s pov)

❤︎ warnings: pure smut, explicit content, f! receiving oral

❤︎ w/c: 4834

❤︎ matt’s texts are in blue!

matt woke up in agonizing pain. it hurt, badly. if he didn’t get some kind of release sometime soon, he would probably lose it. he was going insane.

his first ever wet dream about you. in between your thighs; kissing you, licking you, tasting you. in his dreams, you tasted fucking phenomenal. you gripped on his hair tightly and fucked his face as he devoured your sweet cunt.

in his dream, he was in absolute heaven, but it was just a dream.

so, when matt woke up with the biggest hard on he’s had in his entire life and a huge wet patch against the front of his boxers, he wasn’t sure what to do. he groaned in pain, throwing his head back against the pillow as he moved his hand to push his hardened bulge down repeatedly to try and stop the intense sensation.

thank god he slept alone because this was truly embarrassing. he thought he was done with this shit. he’s had wet dreams before when he was younger, but that was self explanatory. he had no excuse for this one.

well, maybe he does. you were on his mind every second of every day. ever since the moment you two shared in the closet at nick’s party, it was all he could think about. your lips against his neck, sucking on his skin and leaving behind the most beautiful bruise he wished would’ve stayed longer. he had that reminder left on his skin of you making him feel fucking amazing and when it faded, he kept it imprinted in his brain.

he let out a soft groan out of frustration. it was no use. nothing was helping. he thought to himself maybe now that they’ve had some interactions, he would actually have the courage to be vocal about what he wanted and needed.

matt moved his hand over to grab his phone off the nightstand. maybe he should just stop being so scared and actually say what he wanted for once.

truth is, he’s wanted you for so long. ever since he laid his eyes on you, he’s been hooked. infatuated. obsessed. the obsession with you happened very quickly and has only progressed rapidly over the years. he was one of your best friends, but he always knew it was more than that. at least for him, anyway. he looked out for you, was there for you if you needed him. it was like he wanted you to come to him for comfort and support so he can show you how a man should treat you. he hated seeing you hurt and just wanted to protect you from it all.

he was so obsessed with you to the point that you were all he could think about. it was driving him fucking insane. he wanted you and every part of you.

it became so unbearably hard because he knew he couldn’t have you. you never seemed to feel the same way because you were always so independent and carefree and even when you had dates with other boys, he still wanted you. it devastated him to see you get your heart broken, wishing he could pick up the pieces and put your mended heart back together.

he always assumed you’d never feel the same way , not until recently. ever since you noticed your panties in his back pocket the night you all watched a movie together, he felt as if maybe you were finally noticing him and who he truly was, rather than just the awkwardness in his personality. maybe you were starting to actually notice him. he did tell you how much he’s always wanted you. he was vocal about that for once.

matt let out a groan, the uncomfortable hardness not going away any time soon as he opened up his phone and immediately tapped on your name.

i had a dream about you last night and i can’t stop thinking about it.

matt’s heart quickened as he sent the message. within seconds, bubbles started to appear on the screen.

oh you did? what was it about?

it’s kind of embarassing..

come over and tell me about it. i’m making breakfast, you can have some while you rant.

give me 10.

matt immediately got out of bed and threw on a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt, trying to push his hard on away so it wasn’t completely evident when he went over to your house. he knew just telling you about it and standing right in front of you would only make his cock even more excited, so he decided to just say fuck it and try to hurry as fast as he can. he needed to see you.

after brushing his teeth and trying his best to look decent, he scurried his way out of his house. thank god you only lived next door and not across town. nick and chris were still asleep so at least he didn’t have to explain to his brothers where he was going so early in the morning with a fucking hard on in his pants.

he knocked only twice before coming face to face with you. he couldn’t help but scan you up and down, taking in your beautiful appearance. your hair was up in a messy bun with strands of hair falling onto the sides of your face, your oversized t-shirt covered your entire upper body but showed off your amazing toned legs. all you had on was a pair of lacy panties underneath. usually you didn’t want anyone seeing you like this, but it was matt. he’d stare at you like this no matter what you looked like.

“um, hey.” he said kind of awkwardly, his hand immediately falling into his tousled brown locks. “thanks for letting me stop by.” he could still feel the lingering hard on that was throbbing in his pants and it wasn’t helping that he was now face to face with the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.

he tried desperately not to stare at your body as you stood there, a smile widening on your face. the wafting aroma of pancakes lingered in the air and filled his nostrils. he knew you loved to cook, no matter what kind of food it was. you always liked to try different recipes and have your loved ones try them. it was like one of your many love languages. “hi matt! of course! as soon as i knew you were stopping by, i put more on the pan.”

you bounced on your heels, your smile only widening as you shut the door behind him once he steps inside. fuck, were you so fucking addictive. your personality in itself is so damn contagious and he wanted to be around you all the damn time.

“oh, thank you. aren’t you a sweetheart?” hell yeah you were.

his eyes scan over the room before averting his eyes to your ass as you turn around and motion for him to follow you into the kitchen. you looked fucking amazing even in just a big t-shirt. he ended up envisioning you wearing only his shirt and lounging around the house and that thought was not helping his still evident hard on that you obviously noticed the second you opened the door for him. he got lost in his thoughts and snapping out of them immediately once he heard your voice.

“come on! they’re almost done.” you called out to him as you stood at the stove, your hips swaying as you flip the pancake in the pan.

matt gulped slowly, suddenly feeling nervous as he walks into the kitchen to join you and leans against the kitchen island as he watches you intently. even when you’re in your element, you looked effortlessly beautiful. how come everything you did made him fall for you ten times harder?

“they smell amazing. you didn’t have to make me any.”

you turned around to raise your eyebrow at him with a stern look on your face. “nope. you’re having as many as you want. i wanted to.” you finished off the rest of the pancake mix, letting it sit in the pan to form before turning to look back over at him. he looked nervous and on edge standing there; like he so badly wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure how to.

your eyes glared down to the hardened bulge that outlined the center of his sweatpants. how was he hard already? you fought the urge to bite down on your bottom lip, your cheeks already growing warm as you immediately averted your eyes back to his.

he caught on to your subtle staring, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink as well. “thanks. i’ll have some, then.”

you came back to your senses, flashing him a wide grin before turning your attention back to the pancakes that were now done and cooling off. as you waited for them to cool off, you moved over next to him and hopped up onto the chair at the kitchen island. “so, tell me about this dream you had of me.” you wiggled your eyebrows up at him playfully, a light giggle emitting from your lips.

his cheeks turned a darker shade of pink as he immediately averted his eyes down at the marbled surface before back up at you. “well, it wasn’t just an ordinary dream. the dream had me waking up like, really fucking hard actually.” his cheeks flushed even more, his eyes moving back down and not being able to hold eye contact with you as he says this. “in the dream, it felt so real though. like fuck, i wanted it to be real.” he let out a nervous laugh, his knee beginning to bounce which was one of his nervous habits.

it’s not that he was nervous of you or being around you. he fucking loved being around you and tried to find any excuse to do so. it’s the idea of you knowing he’s capable of having these thoughts about you even if he’s already voiced it before. having dreams about you though? he’s never had one like it before.

this piqued your interest as you kept your eyes focused on him. “what happened in it, matt? you can tell me.” your voice was soft and reassuring. you wanted to make sure he knew that you weren’t judging him. you were also intrigued since the moment he texted you. you just had to know what the dream was about, especially since it involved you.

“well, it’s kind of something i’ve been wantin’ to do for awhile and maybe that’s why i dreamt of it but it got me really goin’-“ he stopped his words, feeling absolutely flustered, his cheeks reddening by the second. his eyes moved over to yours once again, your eyes now locked together in an intense gaze. you weren’t able to read him. all you could tell was that he was completely flustered and when you looked down at the center of his sweatpants, you could visibly see he was harder than he was before he stepped foot into your house.

“matt..” you spoke immediately, moving off your chair to move over next to him, your hand now resting against his shoulder, your eyes still locked together. the poor thing was a nervous wreck. you thought it was fucking adorable. he was so flustered, unable to speak. “it’s okay. instead of explaining to me what happened, why don’t you show me? actions speak louder than words don’t they?” you flashed him a sly smirk, your fingertips running down his shoulder through the fabric of his shirt before slowly moving your hand up to his hair and running your fingers through his tousled locks and gave his hair a slight tug. “it’s okay, sweetheart. show me.”

something switched in matt after you spoke. his eyes began to darken with lust and desire as he stared up at you from the chair he was sitting on. you could swear you heard matt whine from you tugging on his hair. you stood there next to him, your fingers wrapped up in his locks as you kept your gaze focused on him.

without any hesitation, matt immediately moved his hands over to the back of thighs and down to your ass to lift you up against him with your legs immediately wrapping around his waist as he walks you over to the counter and sets you down onto it. a soft, surprised gasp emits from your lips at his sudden movements. you loved seeing matt like this. he was usually so cautious and embarrassed easily, but when he lost control which wasn’t often, it was incredibly hot and so attractive.

fuck. the boy really does want you, doesn’t he? you spent countless hours throughout the last couple weeks wondering his true feelings and if you reciprocated those feelings for him. when matt does things to surprise you like this, it turns you on and leaves you wanting more. you didn’t realize matt was capable of being this way and you were slowly becoming obsessed with seeing him lose control.

your eyes lock together in an intense gaze, your hands resting onto his shoulders now. “show me, matt. please.” you pleaded, your own eyes filling with desire. your legs wrapped around his waist tighter to pull him closer to you, your hand moving up to run through his brunette locks. you were becoming addicted to the feeling of his hair between your fingers. adrenaline ran throughout your body from your head to your toes. “you don’t have to hold back.” you whispered out, giving his hair another slight tug which drawled out a soft whine from matt’s lips. okay yeah, you fucking loved this.

the words that fell from your lips were all it took for matt to finally break away any shyness and flustered feelings he had before. seeing you like this; pleading him not to hold back, to have him show you what his dream was and giving him the permission to make that dream a reality. he needed this. he needed you. he immediately placed his hands onto your bare thighs, your oversized shirt already rising up from where you sat on the counter. he moved one hand up your bare thigh underneath your shirt against your side, your fingertips drumming against the hem of your lacy panties “oh fuck.” he breathed out, already seeming breathless just by the touch of the lace covering the most intimate part of you. the part he needed to touch, kiss, taste in this very moment.

your body immediately jolted forward at his touch against your skin and teasingly pulling on your panties. his other hand moved up to place his index and middle finger underneath your chin to allow your eyes to lock together in an intense gaze. his blue eyes turned darker than usual. you could tell how much he needed you in this moment. as if he was an animal that was malnourished and needed to be fed. he needed to taste you. now.

you lifted your hips up slightly to allow him to remove your panties down your legs. you watched his every move as his fingers tugged your panties down, his eyes not being able to take his eyes off your pretty lace panties that were once covered by your pretty pussy that he needed so much. you were already soaking wet and it was evident with a small amount of your arousal coating them before allowing them to fall down onto the kitchen floor. this very moment felt so intimate, so fucking right and your cheeks were fucking burning from how much you were blushing.

you never thought this would ever happen, but you weren’t complaining. he spread both of your legs immediately with both of his palms, the pad of his thumbs caressing the inside of your thighs in smooth, slow circles. your breath hitched as you stared down at him, watching his every move. his hardened cock was pressing against his tightened sweatpants, begging to be free, but he didn’t seem phased by it one bit. all he could focus on was that he finally had you in the palm of his hand and he was savoring every fucking second of it.

“god, your skin is so smooth. feeling s’good against my fingertips.” he whispered this in a sultry tone, so unlike his usual voice. it was so fucking hot you felt like you might combust right then and there. you knew he could feel the heat radiating from your core as his hand inched up higher, closer to your sweet cunt.

he moved his hand to your bare hip, your shirt riding up everytime his hand moved. you melted against his touch. your breathing getting hitched in your throat. you didn’t know what to say, if you even could speak. all you could do was watch him lose and take control and have you at his mercy. his fingers caressed your inner thighs underneath your shirt in a teasing manner and it made you want to scream, needing him to touch you where you wanted it the most.

you had to be patient though. he’s wanted you for so long, you knew he wouldn’t just walk out without showing you exactly what he dreamt about.

“spread your legs f’me. need you. now.” he spoke this is a dominant, rough tone through gritted teeth. it was almost as if he was about to combust from how much he’s needed you for so damn long and he was finally getting to have a taste of you.

you did as you were told, spreading your legs wider against the countertop. fuck, this was so dirty and so hot and your head was spinning, your mind clouded with dirty thoughts and consumed of nothing but matt and how he’s wanted this for so long. maybe you have, too.

your shirt rose up completely now and you took the initiative to place your shirt directly at your hips and hoped it would stay there and not get in the way. your breath felt like it was caught in your throat at this point as you stared at him. his eyes were hungry, needy, and full built up lust and want. “been wantin’ this for so long. so fuckin’ long, sweet girl.” he used his fingers to cup underneath your chin in a rough manner , your eyes staying locked together firmly.

“a little taste won’t hurt.” you breathed out, already shaking with anticipation and adrenaline that rushed through you. your spread legs and bent your knees as you sat on the edge of the counter as he bent down onto his knees and suddenly he was face to face with your sweet, pretty pussy.

“holy shit.” he breathed out, a soft groan already emitting from his lips at the sight of your glistening arousal. your core was throbbing already, desperate and needing matt any way he was willing to give you. “fuck. you truly are beautiful, every single fuckin’ inch of you.” he caressed your inner thighs with his hands, your skin feeling like butter against his fingertips.

your cheeks were bright red at this point as he continued to stare at your sweet pussy, practically drooling at the sight. he had wanted this for so long and so many times he had imagined what you looked like when he’d take your underwear just to put them around his cock as he pumped it in his hand, cumming all over the lacy fabric with your name falling from his lips. now he gets to have you, inches close to tasting you.

his finger ran across your glistening folds, admiring your pretty pussy and how wet you were for him. your cheeks were bright red as he continued to stare longingly at you, not being able to quite take his eyes off you as his finger slowly rubbed your swollen nub.

his hot and hot heavy breath lingered against your center, feeling yourself growing more soaked by the second. he looked up at you from the position he was in on his knees in front of you, his eyes full of lust and need. “such a beautiful fuckin’ pussy, sweetheart. god, look at you.”

before you could even reply to his words, he immediately leaned forward and dove his head in between your thighs, his tongue running up and down against your glistening folds causing your body to jolt forward against the feeling of his tongue finally against you. your hand insrantly found his hair again and ran your fingers throughout his hair, a soft moan leaving your lips. fuck, his tongue felt so good against you.

he dreamt of this for so long. the taste of your arousal coated his tongue as he began to lap his tongue against your glistening folds, swirling his tongue around in several directions as he hummed against you to send vibrations down your core. you were throbbing immensely and the feeling of his tongue finally against you was so damn rewarding. you couldn’t believe this was happening and you didn’t want it to stop.

his tongue plunges into your core repeatedly, lapping up your sweet juices as they coat his tongue. your fingers wrap around his hair tighter and pull onto his head to dive his head more into your center. you wrap your legs around his face which causes a groan to erupt from his throat and send vibrations down to your core. you throw your head back against the kitchen cabinet. you refuse to close your eyes, wanting to savor this moment as long as possible.

watching him eat you out was the hottest fucking thing. you didn’t want it to end. fire coursed throughout your veins, sending shockwaves down to your body at the feeling his tongue rolling along your glistening folds before he began to suck onto your swollen clit and taking it between his lips. he sucked onto it hungrily, lapping his tongue against it each and every time he’d let it go. he devoured your pussy hungrily, not being able to stop. “o-oh fuck. matt. that’s feels.. so nice.” you moan out your words, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging hard.

he looked up at you as he continued to devour you, running his tongue up and down your glistening wet folds, moaning against your center as he opens up his eyes to look up at you. he’s mesmerized by how your face looks when you throw your head back in absolute ecstasy. fuck, he’s been dreaming about this for so long and now he’s finally getting a taste of you.

he pulled away just for a second to breathe, licking over his lips hungrily like he was already having withdrawals. you pulled one hand away from his hair to place against your own chest, massaging your breast through the fabric of your shirt. you looked down at him, your arousal glistening against his lips. the loss of his tongue made you whine, but you locked your eyes with him, already looking fucked out. “fuck, sweet girl. you taste so divine. got me addicted to this pussy.” he spoke in a sultry tone, licking over his own lips once more.

“can’t stop.” was all he said breathlessly, flashing you a sly smirk before diving back in between your thighs. his hands moved to your inner thighs to hold you still as he ran his tongue up and down your glistening cunt. he waited for so long to be able to taste you and he couldn’t believe this was actually fucking happening.

he sucked onto your swollen clit, lapping his tongue against it repeatedly as your legs begin to shake from the pleasure filling inside of you. “f-fuck!” you shouted out, gripping onto his hair to keep his head in place so he wouldn’t move away from your center, not that he’d want to. he could tell you were getting closer to your orgasm. he didn’t stop, continuing to roll his tongue along your glistening pussy, moaning against you with the taste of you driving him absolutely fucking insane.

you were so close to your orgasm. your body began to shake and tremble with fire coursing throughout your veins. you didn’t want this to end, but you didn’t know how much longer you could hold on. you continued to grip onto his hair to hold his face in place as you watched him devour your pussy like a starved man, addicted to your taste. addicted to you. “oh, fuck matt! i’m s-s-so close!” you stuttered your words as you moaned loudly, profanities falling from your lips as your heart raced rapidly in your chest.

god, he looked so fucking good between your legs. you wished you had your phone to take a picture for later, you’d already keep it engraved in your brain anyway. he gripped harder on your thighs to hold you still as you tried to rock your hips up into him, in an attempt to fuck his face as he sucked onto your clit feverishly. he pulled away just for a moment to look back up at you, his lips curving into a devious smirk as he licked over his lips hungrily. “cum for me, sweet girl. been needin’ to taste you for so long. cum on my tongue and let me taste you. wanna see you when you cum f’me. keep your eyes open, alright ma? don’t be shy now.”

he immediately went back to licking your swollen bud repeatedly, sucking onto it and moaning against you, your eyes locked together. you made sure to keep your eyes opened the entire time just like he demanded. hearing his dirty words and watching him fucking devour you is what caused you to get sent over the edge. you didn’t realize how badly you needed this until you saw him between your thighs, eating you out like his life depended on it.

suddenly, your body began to shake as your orgasm rushed through you, your fingers tugging onto his head harshly as you pushed your hips into his face, your orgasm sending shockwaves throughout your entire body as you cum on his tongue, moaning out in ecstasy, his name falling from your lips. he watched you the entire time, your eyes locking together in an intense gaze, moans falling from your lips. he couldn’t take his eyes off you. he couldn’t fucking believe this was happening after all this time.

he lapped up your juices as you allowed your orgasm to rush through you, your arousal coating his tongue as he moaned against your pussy. your heart beat rapidly in your chest, sweat glistening against your forehead. you look incredibly fucked out and hazed, your fingers lazily running through his messy locks. even in your post orgasm haze, he believed you were the most beautiful girl in the world. fucking magnificent. he used a tongue to lick your now overly sensitive clit to get one more taste before pulling away from your thighs. he used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth that was covered in your juices, a now shy smile appearing onto his lips as he stared up at you.

he got back onto his feet to stand before you, your legs now closed and you pull your shirt back down as you try to find the strength in them to jump off the counter, but your legs felt like jello. your eyes moved from his lips and back up into his eyes. you didn’t know what this meant moving forward, but you couldn’t fucking believe this happened.

“a fuckin dream come true. literally. thank you, sweet girl.” his own breathing was labored as he licked over his lips and stared at you with his cheeks reddened tremendously. he’s back to his usual shy self. “been wantin’ that for awhile.”

your chest heaved up and down, your head resting against the kitchen cabinet. your eyes move down to the evident hardened bulge in his pants, a wet spot forming against the fabric. he was incredibly turned on just from tasting you. you didn’t know if he wanted you to return the favor or not, but the sight of him completely hard for you was such a turn on.

he caught your eyes, moving his eyes down to his own hardened cock before back up into your eyes. he had come here because of this same problem, but this time he wouldn’t be leaving in complete agony. at least he finally got to taste you. he bent down to grab your damp lacy panties that were still on the ground and immediately places them in his pocket, flashing you a small smirk.

“enjoy your breakfast, sweetheart. i sure as hell enjoyed mine.”

taglist-

@sturnshood @strangelife122 @jessie-essie @giveheavensomehell @rina3476 @chrissturnioloslvt @sturnslutz @forgottxen @matthewsturnsgf @christmastreecake @rinahasspots @222wall876 @chris-hallelujah @izzylovesmatt @strniloslvts @oopsiedaisydeer @sophand4n4 @sturniololuv08 @xclusivedesires

a/n- thank you to @sturnshood for helping me with the idea! i wouldn’t of been able to write this without you. thank you thank you, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me i love you!

thank you to everyone who’s read this au and has supported me! i want to continue it for as long as i can, so if you have any ideas, questions for me or just wanna talk in general please don’t hesitate to send a message in my inbox!

i love you guys! :)

-nessa ღ

[dannyz0ur]

Please I need a curly x reader fic where the reader see how stressed out Curly is and offers another way for him to relax…the cockpit has a lock…🙏 excited to see the fic if you chose to do this!

ok so a little short teehee~ i hope this delivers though!

You knew Curly just as well as any other crew member. He was a ray of sunshine, a beaming motivation in the midst of the sad grey ship you were all trapped in.

He was always cheering everyone up, saying words of ecouragement of advising them to take a break. Never did he show any signs of exhaustion, frustration, or anything else than joy for that matter. But you knew better than to assume he was fine. Of course being captain was an arduous task, he must've felt like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was so specially kind to you, or so it seemed to every other member of the crew.

You two had longer conversations after morning meetings and seemed to engage in playful banter while working, had your coffee together... y'know, stuff close friends do.

Little did everyone know how actually close you were. Or, well; right now, how close Curly was.

"Haah~ hun, keep that up and- shit..." He panted, gently pushing your head further down his cock. You knew just as well as he did that he wouldn't last long if you kept sucking him off like that.

Sometimes it was a blessing the cockpit had a lock.

And sometimes, the blessing was you, Curly thought.

The stress, the burden of being a captain would've driven him insane if he hadn't met you. Such a good friend at first, then gradually becoming fuck buddies one of those lonely nights at the Tulpar. You would either listen at him vent about his stress and burdens or make him forget about them with the warmth of your touch.

Not even five minutes later, you were bouncing on his lap, your plushy thighs and ass slapping against his muscular ones, the only sounds in the cockpit now were the wet plap plap plap each time he buried his length as deep as possible inside you, making your eyes roll back and your breath hitch, and the ragged breaths you two let out in an attempt to lessen the louder moans.

“G-gods… you’re- ahh- you’re amazing…” Curly mumbled in your neck, arms tightly wrapped around your waist while he helped you bounce up and down. “Captain~” you moaned, because you’d learned he has a thing for titles. At least when it comes to you. “You’re doing so good, hun… feels so good…” He always mumbled praises against your neck whenever he was close, it was his giveaway, so you gave your best to him until you were the first one to come—his request—and he followed soon after; whimpering your name.

Then you’d sit there for a moment, catching your breath, and after that you’d sneak out of the cockpit and into your respective quarters as if nothing had happened. But still, you both knew that it’d happen again and again. You were one of the few things keeping Curly sane.

Of course you’d do it, he was your Captain, he deserves it.

again, too short and took too long but here it is!! remember reqs are OPEN and here's my req sheet!

[kingqueensoobscene]

SUNFLOWER "ANON" HERE AGAIN RGHHAHHHHHHH (i prefer sending anon asks)

timeskip scout with a dilf hunter reader /j /sfw🙏

reader meets scout (and the rest of the team) again after 7 years and now he has kids and a shitty mullet, immediately goes *neuron activation* after seeing how great he is with his children

reader fr being not the step parent but the parent that stepped up 🙏

HEY ANON!!!!!!! (I totally get you) 

I am so happy to get this request, because I think about this SO often! I was already into Scout before, but him becoming a Dilf was NOT on my 2024 bingo card 🗣‼️‼️ I have made another fic about Dad!Scout before, so here’s the link if you wanna check it out!! https://www.tumblr.com/kingqueensoobscene/770802320729669632/you-got-it-boss-i-wrote-this-as-a-romantic-scout

COMIC!SCOUT X DILF LOVER!READER (SFW)

-In the beginning, you met Scout working as a mercenary and while you joined the last out of the 10, you quickly became good friends. Being the 2nd youngest out of the 10, you and Scout had more in common. Comic books, TV shows, action figures, collecting cards. As a skilled defense, you worked well with Scout. Scout created a distraction long enough for you to knock the enemy Soldier from behind. Or for him to grab the intelligence while watching his flank. Then there was always celebrating wins together with spiked Bonk! on a late afternoon.

-Over time, you wanted the one you could’t have. The unrequited crush he had  on Miss Pauling, who you felt would not like him back considering she devoted 10 years of her life to a woman, made you feel sad. And Spy noticed those nights you spent sitting alone in the common area, morphing into color to tell you that this was all pointless. You only shrugged. You couldn’t help who you were attracted to. The fabric of his gloves brushed along woven cloth as he moved from his hand from his head to his eyes and rubbed them. Reassuringly, Spy told you you were an open book and Jeremy can’t read. As stupid as it sounded, he was right

-Most of the team, some uncaring for it, knew you liked Scout. And it wasn’t that you acted like an idiot in front of him or that you flirted or even act jealous when Miss Pauling was around, you did none of that. It was how you looked at him. You looked past all of his stupidity and his overconfidence and you saw how he actually was. A sore loser who wanted to be liked. He told you all of the things that bothered him; how he couldn’t kill that one dumb Blu Sniper that keeps getting a hit on him no matter what you two strategized and how he viewed the other mercenaries as the family he missed back in Boston. He was oddly sacred when it came to his family. He liked not being alone and being around the loud and despite being the least strong, being capable of helping out his team and getting the chance to prove himself. And how everyone knew that you saw him as something other than a Masshole. And they really, really doubted you.  

-Down the line, with the help of Soldier, Miss Pauling found the scarce Australium thought to be gone from the Earth. After getting out of Australia, you found yourself in the maw of the Administrator and the many other teams of mercenaries. After the purpose of the entire manhunt for this element was found to be futile, you moved on. That was it. Moving on in life after the administrator was dusted was difficult. A harsh reality that the 9 other guys you started to see as people other than your coworkers, you would most likely not see again. It’s wasn’t so bad though; you got a good job, still did the things you loved, had a good social life too. You just missed one thing very much, your friend. 

-It was a shock when you found Soldier in your apartment when you came home from work. He gave you a big ol hug that knocked the wind out of you while two weights held your legs down to Earth. Two kids? Zhanna and Doe had children?! Soldier quickly brushed you off, saying that Merasmus wanted to hurry and explained that you were the only one the rest of the team couldn’t find. You were the only smart one who threatened to sue unless you were given a compensation package and a new identity. You were taken, not by choice, though you didn’t complain, to the city of Boston.

-When you arrived with the entirety of Heavy and now Soldier’s family, it was on the steps of the boy you used to know well. Honestly, you were nervous, but excited. You had already caught up with Heavy and Medic the whole car ride there. Drifting to the back of the line as Heavy entered with the turkey the unattended Miss Pauling bought the team and Soldier’s kids practically dashed under the legs of everyone. Then you saw him. His hair all shagged out and his face with no traces of his 20’s anywhere. His eyes widened and a smile grew. 

“You goober! I thought I wasn’t gonna see ya tonight!” He said as he pulled you into a squeezed hug. 

It lasted for a couple more seconds before Scout looked down. A little boy tugging at his legs. 

“Daddy, can me and Patton and Georgia go play outside?” A small boy with yellow goggles on his face asked.

“Hmm, I dunno. Dinners about ta start. Why don’t you wait until after dinner, alright?” Jeremy ruffled the boy’s hair. 

“Alright dad!” He ran off back into the kitchen.

You were honestly kind of surprised. You knew he wanted a family, but you never expected how good of a father he would be. His kid didn’t seem to throw a fit about waiting, instead just listening to him. Your crush just got revamped entirely. Your mind became moments of the days you spent on the rooftop talking about his Ma and his family. It seemed weird to be passionate about, but the impression was given that he wanted to have kids of his own to take care of and be a better father than the man who was absent. Giggling was loud in the living room where you saw 5 more kids, two of which were Soldier’s. 

“You have 4 children?!” 

Jeremy only laughed. “You too, huh? Yeah, everyone’s so shocked.”

“I mean, it has been 7 years.” 

“Yeah, but that just means we got lots of catchin’ up, huh?” He punched your arm.

“For starters, where’s your lucky wife? You nudged his side, smirking.

“Got none. All deadbeats, the last three. Doesn’t matter, they’re my kids and I’m gonna raise ‘em right.” 

Despite the circumstances that you wish were much better for the children’s well-being, this just got so much better for you. 

“But I love my lil boogers.” 

He ran up behind the running girl who had a purple skirt and a grey sweater on. He picked her up under her arms and brought her to his face. 

“Isn’t that right, my lil booger?” He kissed the girl’s cheek and she giggled more.

He set her down gently and make an explosion noise. Another girl, a redhead, came up and asked if she could be exploded and you chuckled. But he did it, he lifted her up, gave her a peck on the forehead and set her down making a crashing noise. He was really good with kids. Maybe you would take him up on that offer to catch up.

-Eventually and habitually, you often visited his home on the weekends. He wasn’t really a fan of leaving the kids home alone, so he liked having you over for dinner. He has a recipe book his mom got him that he uses almost every time he makes dinner. She copied all of the recipes from their family, saving the originals and made them into a book for him when his family visited for Christmas (After the holiday party with the team). They are some of the most delicious foods ever. 

-During the spring, he brought out the toy cars for his kids to run around with in the backyard. While he was inside making lemonade, the brown haired girl, Tanya, ran up to you. 

“(Name)! (Name)! We need someone to be the helpless victim to Tommy’s castle.” She shook your arm, her balaclava that was way too large for her face flopped around as she did so. 

“I guess I’ll have to be saved by the princess assassin once again.” You woed dramatically as she dragged you along to Tommy’s little sandbox. 

Tommy had a plastic knights mask on, one he got for Christmas as he has told you ecstatically many times. Jeremy was a good listener when it came to his kids, since he was the youngest of 8 and was mostly given hand-me-downs and mostly unintentionally ignored at times by his Ma. So, since he has half the kids and more free time due to being technically in early retirement, he makes sure all of his kids get what they want. They are a little spoiled.

You were behind the green closed sandbox, where Tommy has “captured” you. You pretended to be tied up, with the imaginary chains behind your back. Tanya, Andy, the curly haired boy and Sierra, the redheaded girl, were huddled up and talking in hushed voices. Andy had on a red cape and his yellow goggles. You could never get him to take those things off.

“So we’re gonna tackle him?” Sierra asked.

“Duh!” Tanya exclaimed.

“Ok!”

They took after their dad so much. Going into things with one thing in mind. Tanya and Andy ran after Tommy and grabbed his legs, tumbling to the ground. Sierra grabbed your arm and led you to the playground set Jeremy had installed over the summer. She urged you to hurry up, so you climbed up the slide while she went up the rocks. 

“We won!” She threw her hands to the sky. 

You, on the other hand, “Are you ok, Tommy?” 

Andy was looking down at his brother, biting his lip. Tommy lifted up the plastic top of the knights mask and you could a smile on his rosy face.

“I’m ok!” 

You took the slide down and went up to him. 

“You sure?” 

“Good,” you helped him to his feet, “because I need a knight to help me win against an assassin.”

Tanya whined and looked betrayed. 

“What? No fair!” 

“You were fooled, it was a trap!” You grabbed a foam sword. 

Tommy giggled manically as you both ran after them. You didn’t hit the 3, you couldn’t, but you pretended to slash them with a “shh!” noise. Then you heard a loud laugh to your left. 

“Heh, oh man! That’s something. C’mon kids, come get your drinks.” You saw Jeremy had come back. 

The kids dropped what they were doing and ran to the cookies and lemonade. You walked up to Jeremy a little rosy. 

“I hate to say it, but I betrayed your daughter.” You chuckled.

“Yeah, I saw that.” He smirked.

After putting the kids to bed, Jeremy walked you out the door.

“Thanks for taking care of my kids when I would step away.” He leaned his elbow against the doorframe. 

“That’s nothing! You’re great with your kids, I’ve never seen kids be such good listeners.” 

“Heh, well, their dad is an amazing guy.” He chuckled.

Then there was silence. You hesitated. Jeremy looked at you with a squint and a smile. 

“You okay?” 

“I have to tell you something to tell you. And it’s going to be hard because it might ruin things between us.”

“Oh yeah?” He smiled, unserious. 

“I- ok, so I have known you for a long time and you are one of the people I care about the most. I know it’s been a long time, but those feelings have come back again. I know you have your kids and I know that’s the life you want, which is totally fine! But now that we’re older, I wanted to tell you and get it off my chest.” 

He leaned closer, waiting with an eager smile. 

“I have always liked you.”

“That it?” 

“That’s all.” 

You could not look into his eyes. You did not want to see him angry or in disbelief if this would be the last time you ever talk to him again. You feel awful, but you need to tell him otherwise you would regret it again. 

“Is it because I’m a dad now? Because i always knew I was smokin’ hot, but I never knew that’s what it would take for you to tell me.”

Then you started to laugh. And he laughed. And you looked at him now. He was just looking at you. 

“Do you like me?” You asked.

“Well, I didn’t always. But now I’m thinking, why the hell I didn’t.” 

And there was another moment of silence again. For once in his life, he actually thought about his words. It would take some serious rekindling before he would consider dating you. His kids come first and that is something he makes clear from the beginning. To be honest, he has thought about you for some time. He’s trusted you for years, and now he knows he still can.

“I dunno, maybe this could work. But, hey, uh, just gimme some time. I’ll have to find a babysitter.”

[drunkoffsmoke]

Hi I’m back again!And if you don’t mind do you have any more platonic Headcanons but this time for Erwin or Levi as a father figure?

a/n: erm. ermmm. we are not going to talk about how extremely late i am. let's just say i forgot about writing this and hope that you forgive me🙏 decided to write for both as a little treat for being this patient with me. (im 100% sure you forgot about this too).

PAIRING: FATHER FIGURE!LEVI ACKERMAN x GN!READER, FATHER FIGURE!ERWIN SMITH x GN!READER (both separate)

FANDOM: SHINGEKI NO KYOJIN // ATTACK ON TITAN.

GENRE: PLATONIC, FLUFF, HEADCANONS.

! WARNING ! none.

Levi Ackerman.

He knows his job very well, he knows he's bound to serve and protect humanity for the rest of his life. Not like he wants it any other way, somebody needs blood on their hands so others can live peacefully. He'll be the one to bare his teeth.

But one thing he couldn't understand is you. You in general. No matter how many times he shoo's you away or throws snappy remarks, you always seem to be trailing around him like a lost dog. You don't ask for his attention, you just — sit there. Admiring him, even.

He's used to people admiring him. He's Humanity's Strongest Soldier after all, but your admiration is different from the rest. At first he thinks it's love and he was more than prepared to turn down your feelings for him, but then he realized;

It's not the romantic kind of love.

He overhears one of his subordinates talking to another one about you, specifically about how you constantly trail around and the reason why. Turns out your father packed his bags and left when you were young, leaving you and your mother behind with little to no pity.

Suddenly, it all clicks together. The greetings, the constant following, just the desire to be near him likely filled the empty hole in your heart, the hole your father left once he did too.

Truth to be told, he doesn't know how to act, how to think. He can't look at you the same anymore.

He no longer ushers you away. He kind of stopped with the remarks, too. They're still there, but they only come out in order to remind you that you need to do better in training or while on expeditions. Other than that, it's just pure silence.

He doesn't get affectionate in public, but while you two are alone, he might praise you or even pat your shoulder in comfort. His cold heart warms at the happy look you have on your face after he does that.

You might get accepted at the 'big guys' (where Levi and the other superiors sit) table, but it's unlikely. Still, he does glance at you from all the way over there.

Despite all of this, the training isn't easier — it's harder. He makes you do a couple more push-ups than the rest, make you run a few more laps and chooses stronger opponents during sparring. You have to be prepared if he's not with you on a mission, he can't afford to lose you.

He won't admit it, but he's afraid. Deeply afraid of growing too attached, of having to see you die just like the rest. That's the reasoning behind the harsher training. But in the end, your hard efforts are rewarded with a cup of tea he made for you and a few words of affirmation. Levi wasn't one to use many words either way.

Comforting is not his strongest suit, but if anything ever bothers you, he can listen. He can and will be the shoulder you can lean on.

You've never expressed your issues to him, or anyone for that matter — but Levi always seemed to know. Whatever troubled you, he knew. Or at least, had a slight idea. Sometimes he could relate, sometimes he couldn't, but he always cheered you up at the end of your rants with silly jokes.

While on expeditions together, you bet that he will be by your side constantly. If you ever get out of his sight, he'll begin silently panicking and desperately search for you. At the end of the day he won't scold you for leaving his side, but if you end up getting hurt, he'll either blame himself or grow irritated. You knew how to protect yourself and use the ODM gear, he was training you himself — so why is there a big gash in your arm?

He never says it but, he's sorry things have to be harsher with you. He wished he could be at ease more and actually be a decent father figure. It's just not in his nature to be like that.

But you know and understand that. And he's forever grateful for it.

Erwin Smith.

He notices almost instantly — the way you work extra hard whenever he's supervising the training alongside Levi, the way you always greet him and ask about his day, how you always tried to cheer him up after a tough expedition.

You're young, he's old. He knows not to confuse these feelings with romantic ones, so there's really just one option left:

You see him as a father figure.

He's heard of your issues from Levi. It wouldn't affect him if it were any other cadet, but it affected him because it was about you. The lovable and cheerful recruit who was never seen with a frown on their face. I guess it affects him because you're always present in his life, whether it be day or night.

He swore to keep things professional either way, to treat you just like he treats the others, that you're nothing more than a subordinate even with this growing fondness you had for him.

But subconsciously he grew attached. Subconsciously, he gave you soft smiles from across the room whenever your eyes would meet, waved at you and asked about your day whenever you passed by eachother in the hallways.

Much like Levi, he will train you just as hard. He can't risk it. He's getting older and older, who knows how long he'll be able to protect you?

But to his ease, you put up with such exercises and ever surpass his expectations. He can't help but feel proud whenever you return to him after running countless laps with sweat glistening on your skin. He can rest well knowing that you're capable of taking care of yourself.

Unlike with the captain, the conversations with him are always deep and meaningful — either about history or poetry, sometimes even about the unknown. Debates between you two happen often, and he enjoys every one of them because he's getting to know you and your morals better.

He's more prone to showing affection in public and that can sometimes get other recruits jealous. If they make ill-intended comments on your relationship with him, he'll step in and show that it's not their business.

One of his favorite activities with you is play chess. He, almost all the time, is black — that's because he wants to know what your first move is. He needs to know if you're learning from him or not.

Will probably not invite you to the 'big guys' table. He thinks you should spend time with your friends instead of with some old blokes who are also your superiors. But if you have none (you're not the only one) and the others are fine with it, he'll invite you over on small occasions.

Doesn't know how to comfort either, but he will give you his opinion on things that bother you. He'll hold you close as your facade finally breaks down and affectionately rub your back.

Asks Hange about things he could do with you. He wants to spend time with you and fill that gaping hole in your heart because you deserve better.

On expeditions, you will also be under his watchful gaze at all times. Won't panic if you're out of sight, he trusts that you know how to take care of yourself. Is proud whenever you return unscathed, but if luck is not on your side and you wound your leg, he won't be mad nor dissappointed. He'll spend some time with you and get your mind off the expedition, then return to his usual duties.

It's a bit harder for you two to spend a whole day together, mostly because Erwin is a commander and all of the responsibilities are on his shoulders, but those little moments where you just bring him a cup of coffee whenever he's been at his desk for more than two hours and leave right after make him smile.

He's thankful to have you.

[raayllum]

What Is Up With Humans, and a Brief History of Xadia

Because season seven gave us two important pieces of the puzzle and while we still don't have a full picture, I'm at least willing to try to assemble them. Let's go.

Elves and Dragons or First Elves vs Dragons

Previously to season 6, I'd speculated that the Archdragons and the First elves were peers. This was due to certain similar language used to describe them ("Oh Zubeia, your heavenly majesty" / "our adversary was literally a being from the heavens") as well as association: "In the name of the dragons and the First Elves" (4x03). It also provided an interesting contrast of the 'most powerful' elves and dragons being allied with one another, whereas the other elves were more subservient to the dragons (acting as the Dragonguard, bringing gifts, elements of worship) if not also enforcing their will over them (the Drake riders).

And it seemed, thanks to season 6, that this was straightforwardly confirmed. The Archdragons, even the draconic monarchy, worked alongside the Cosmic Council to maintain the Cosmic Order, per Leola's execution utilizing the Dragon Prince, Anak Araw, as a witness for something the Council hadn't even, perhaps, directly seen as it happened. Continuing into season seven, this association was maintained without any real hiccups. Aaravos states that "the dragons and the elves, all the arrogant fools blinded by the searing light of their own self-righteousness. They stand high, and they will fall hard" (7x01).

There's a little inclination that maybe things weren't always peaceful between the First Elves and Archdragons, given that the bite of the latter can destroy the mortal vessel of the former, but we don't have any conflict confirmed until we get to 7x07, and then boy do we.

3,000 years ago, we know of at least one battle between an archdragon and a first elf. We also know that Laurelion was battling the creature in their mortal form, hence why it could be (temporarily) destroyed, even if we don't know how long it'd take for their stars to re-align. We also don't know what they were fighting over. Perhaps who'd have control over the Earth, or Laurelion, protecting humanity from a destructive Archdragon — except...

Humans (see those consistently five fingers?) forged the Nova Blade, uniquely made to kill First Elves' mortal forms. Whatever conflict was happening, humans were ultimately more on the Archdragons' side than the Stars', and utilized what would become a basis for dark magic later — using a magical creature's body part — to forge a sword of great power.

It casts this line from Ziard in a new light, to say the least, whether it was genuine or just snide snark either way:

(More on Elarion and timeline things in a bit.)

We don't know, of course, whether Laurelion and Shiruakh's battle was unique and singular and individual, the beginning or culmination of a long drawn out conflict, or if other Archdragons and First Elves were battling one another. Just because humans were creating something to take down Startouch elves doesn't mean they were on the dragons' side either, or what magical (or non-magical) status they had at the time, 3000 years ago. But we do know, at one point since then and before Elarion a thousand years later, the First Elves and Archdragons came together to create and enforce the Cosmic Order, as Aaravos states:

To create a system that worked for them as a unit, and worked against humans. And while an oppressive system doesn't need a ('justified') reason to oppress beyond "having people on the bottom means you get to stay on top" this is where we get into the meta-narrative of it all.

Season Six: Revealing the Hand of God

The meta-narrative, or metafiction, is a form of fiction that emphasizes its own narrative structure in a way that inherently reminds the audience that they are reading or viewing a fictional work. The pulling back of the curtain, or when stories emphasize storytelling (think Hamilton following a character who's constantly worried about if, or how, his story will be told... while you are actively watching it be told.) Think of how different ATLA would be, for example, if we knew directly how the Avatar was chosen, and therefore got into the ethicals of some grand being putting a burden uniquely on the shoulders of a young child, compared to "this is just the story's worldbuilding, and we don't know how it's chosen."

Or, in other words, TDP's writers creating a purposefully unfair magical system in which to explore the conflicts that system would create (because stories are often thought experiments) but with no one in-universe to blame for that system. It just is. Or, I should say, it just was.

Putting characters in your story who Chose who got magic, or who didn't (and the consequences of it) when those choices were fundamentally Unfair, creates someone that we, the audience, and the characters, can blame for that unfair system. There is someone to be angry at. There is someone to hold accountable. The Cosmic Council decided, for whatever reason, to give magic, or create beings (elves) that had magic, and to have beings who not only don't, but cannot and should not have magic. And it was consciously decided, by people who exist within the story and within the narrative, not just by the outside hand of god creators, that humans would not.

Was this punishment for crafting the Nova Blade, and the humans (or magic-less elves?) who did side with the First Elves against the archdragons were given magic and became the primal elves (everyone but the stars)? But if that's the case, why and how did the First Elves and Archdragons — the latter previously possibly being allies of the humans — become united against humans? Did the Archdragons throw humans under the bus when the dust settled? Were the Archdragons angry at humans for, presumably, crafting the Scale of Shiruakh into a weapon as well? (We know that First Elves rarely take mortal form; was it different Before, and Nova Blade happy wielding humans gave them the incentive to stay more up into the heavens?)

We also know that pre-Fall of Elarion, the humans thought that the Stars would save them from the dragons...:

Elarion, fading bloom, afraid to wilt and dim and die, she searched the dark for but a spark and caught the dragons’ hungry eye. Elarion, frightened waif, reached bone-white branches to the night, the stars she asked their light to cast and stop the dragons’ fiery might.1

It happened long ago, when humans had only just learned to hold fire in their hands without burning. They nurtured their precious primal flames secretly—in the dark of night, beneath shadows and shrouds—as cultivating its glow drew the eyes and ire of monsters. Eventually, for the audacity of their fire, they were hunted, and—though they looked to the stars for salvation—the stars, too, looked down upon them with disdain. [...] It cannot be, wept others. The stars would not betray us!2

The dragons directly, not the Stars, had become the enemy of humans over primal magic usage, even though humans made the Nova Blade, and even though the dragons had once been allies, making it seem like an 180 switch happened in the interim. And we do know (although this could've been Leola) that eventually the stars did help humans, even if they did so without caring:

And so the humans learned to wait. They stared into the inky black above, patiently waiting for the stars to share their knowledge, their guidance, their brilliant light—and one day, the heavens finally reached for them. Held them. Blessed them. The humans rejoiced. We are saved, they cried. The stars have finally answered us! We were right to be patient—we were right to wait!3

It makes me wonder whether the Archdragons at the time made the decision for humans to not have magic, and the Stars agreed to enforce it, or whether it was the opposite / mutual.

Moving on: whatever the agreement between them was, one thing held fast of consciously choosing to deprive humans of primal magic, and then doing their best to maintain that deprivation.

Then it all changed, and an Order that hinged so completely on humans not having (primal) magic, at having humans at the bottom of the hierarchy, that it was irreparably broken, seemingly, by just a tiny taste of it, passing from Leola to her human friends.

This act, however motivated, is the beginning of the end. The start of the long slow spiral to chaos. (6x09) / So it is only fitting that I deliver their fear, the Great Unravelling, in Leola's name. (7x06)

My first part of the over arching theory I'm working towards, then, is that the Cosmic Order was made to keep elves and dragons and even archdragons in line, yes, but primarily to keep humans in line.

But why? What is it about humans that make them so unique, or dangerous, that they need to be 'supervised'? Well, I think it went further than

More Than Primal Magic

We know thanks to Callum and other sources (Ripples) that humans can connect to arcanums, and can connect to more than one, with Aaravos being our only example of an elf having more than one arcanum. It begs the question of, if Callum could do it, if there was any truly stopping from humans from acquiring it due to their nature (i.e. cuddlemonkeys like Stella are also born without arcanums, and then connect due to their environmental factors). But that's a post for another day, and I think that "humans connecting to primal magic" is only part of what scared the Cosmic Council.

And what I'm about to propose is, admittedly, both a simplistic and complicated answer for what was so special about humans. (It is also somewhat inspired by a HTTYD fanfic called "Hitchups" I read 11 years ago as a worldbuilding concept, so go figure). However, the more I turned it over in my head, the more I felt like it best reflected what we've seen throughout the series so far, so here it is.

Humans are dangerous because they have Imagination.

And I know on first glance that seems and sounds stupid, but bear with me. Humans, specifically, seem to have more the ability in-universe to imagine new, better, possibilities than we see from the elves and dragons, without prompting in the same manner. Whether it's the human gazing upon the new Sea of the Cast Out...

The wisest of the humans looked upon the water. His own reflection smiled back at him, and he dared to imagine what such power would feel like in his own hands, should he be allowed to hold it. Imagine, he thought, if I were more than what I am.

or Harrow's urgings to Callum, a son who already dreamed of peace even without knowing of the living dragon egg (which is what Rayla and Zubeia needed to get to the same place):

Callum, who believes that primal magic for himself is possible, even when every elf around him disagrees, and then he's right. Or Rayla's reflections on Callum, yes, but humans at large, as though elves struggle routinely with doing the same (and they do, constantly harkening back to the past otherwise):

The human kicked dirt at her, and Rayla scraped at her eyes, angry—infuriated, even. Humans were frustrating. Humans were clever. Humans could do anything, they could be anything, they could take their own fates and change them—4

Rayla, who offers up her gift of sacrifice to Rex Igneous to be the same like everything before, and it's only through Ezran's thought process and Barius' invention that it turns into anything else. Anything new, or successful.

Or the Orphan Queen, who alone sees through Aaravos' eyes, and then manages to convince everyone else who loved him that he's a traitor, who saw the possibility no one else were able to consider. Or the Jailer, who was tasked with creating the prison as opposed to just a primal elf mage, like one couldn't.

REX IGNEOUS: Long ago, it was a human who saw through the Fallen Star's schemes, and helped Xadia put an end to them. (4x08) AKIYU: I was visited by a human mage who called herself the Jailer. The Archdragons had given the Jailer a daunting task to design a magical prison that could hold a Startouch elf. She needed my powers to craft the prison itself. [...] The puzzle is the real prison, she told me with a proud smile. (5x05)

In this, the humans taught me another lesson.5 [...] Aaravos thinks that if he cared for the idea [of birthdays], he’d like to remember the taste of a smooth red fruit a human had plucked from a tree for him, once. It had been so crisp, and so sweet.6

And this idea — that while elves can, humans are better at introducing New Ideas, is not a new one either. Although we see Rayla, Janai, and other Xadian creatures think of ideas/plans, they are usually still operating within the means of what they Know to be possible—to use illusions as a Moonshadow elf, to cut Amaya's line off, to use their lightning abilities or strength—as opposed to what is half-started or unlikely (the bulk of Callum's magic in season 1, and again in 3x09). And we see this best through the way that humans, 9/10, are the ones who introduce Breaking the Cycle to Xadian creatures. We see this with not-so-great ideas as well: humans do the thing, and Xadians eventually copy them.

Now, some of this is an oversimplification, of course. Dragons and elves do introduce some new ideas to human characters, teach them magic/spells, and take new ideas from one another. Callum is usually more optimistic and likely to see a new spin on things than Rayla, for example, but Rayla is the one who sees Esmeray as something other than a monster. Most of the time, though, when elves or dragons are influencing human characters though, it is through revealing information (the scale necklace; Esmeray and Luna Tenebris; that Aaravos can possess people; Terry with Aaravos' plans, etc), not necessarily inventing new perspectives.

Meanwhile, humans reveal information a good deal of the time too: Ezran discovers and shares that the egg wasn't destroyed at all; Callum finds the truth of whether Rayla's parents ran away; the Orphan Queen, as noted, revealed Aaravos' treachery; and Corvus can tell that something is up with that island (7x01).

Elves, meanwhile, tend to be much more... follower-esque. Runaan does not kill unless he is ordered to ("and then Callum will decide if you live or die"). Karim believes in Janai as queen, and treats her as such, and even when he is pushing for his own rule, it is doing so in subsequent open service to Sol Regem and then Aaravos as greater authorities ("What would you have me do? Where would you have me go?" / "You pushed me to this, sister"). The elves who don't, or aren't, usually have more human influence on their lives: Amaya and Ezran with Janai; Callum, Ezran, and Amaya with Rayla, etc.

But the stars kept from them one secret still: that their first lesson—patience—was not a gift of the stars at all. You see, patience is a lesson the humans taught themselves. [...] But I have heard the lesson of the humans. I know patience well.

And this imagination to dream, build, create, to forge, to pursue with determination, makes them less predictable. They don't have arcanums: they don't have anything they intrinsically 'know' to shape them the way elves and magical creatures, and so they can know nothing; they can know anything, and that makes them much harder to control and look over, even for those who are Timeblind (as the Cosmic Council likely is). Especially since, per the apple, it seems that yes maybe Aaravos shared the gift of magic with humans by his own admission, and maybe helped to develop dark magic... but I do wonder if humans invented it, regardless. What Startouch elf would need self-eating, after all?

As a final point for this section: even Aaravos giving humans magic wasn't his idea. Humans likely saw Leola do primal magic and learned from it themselves > to her giving them enough to make a significant difference. Then Aaravos took what had already happened, then twisted and did it again. Moreover, Aaravos plots and plans and relies on people's predictability in order to manipulate them; he may hate the Cosmic Council, but he's still fundamentally acting like them, enforcing pre-determined destinies onto other characters, Sir Sparklepuff, Sol Regem, Viren, and his other pawns chief among them.

If humans are unique among Xadia for reasons beyond magic, then them rejecting the destiny of the stars, Aaravos included, is the ultimate way to write their own destiny and rewrite the system to be truly equitable (hi Callum with Aaravos' key and a literal leaning book of destiny?) and I think that's pretty cool.

A Detour: Aaravos' De-Powering

Back on the note of "the Cosmic Order and Council we see presented in S6 is not the way things always were" from before, I want to talk about Aaravos' de-powering. Specifically, both of them. Again, we tread into speculation territory here (because when do we not when it comes to the deep lore) but bear with me.

In the pre-S6 posters of him and his cube/book, Aaravos wears the same crown as the rest of the Cosmic Council. We don't know enough about Startouch elves to know if they all wear them, or just the Cosmic Council, or if every Startouch elf besides Aaravos is on the council anyway, with his classic bangles and even fancier outfit.

But by the time we see Aaravos in S6, he doesn't have his crown. This could be something he relinquished by choice, a side effect of residing on earth (though he has no trouble going to the 'council' room for lack of a better term), or otherwise stripped from him. This could be what made him less powerful than the rest of the council.

We know that the Cosmic Council didn't leave right away after primal magic was given, either. It was only when Elarion had grown from a fledging to a thriving city thanks to primal magic, and the dragons seemingly took issue, that the Stars left and Aaravos remained. We don't know why for either choice, beyond Aaravos wanting to stay and 'help' humanity (ie. get closer to the Great Unravelling):

Elarion, unworthy whelp, Wept as the stars turned black the sky, They donned their masks They turned their backs, And left Elarion to die. Elarion, dying husk, did wilt and whimper in the dark, ‘till the last star Reached from afar His touch: a blaze, a gift, a spark.

But as @kradogsrats pointed out, perhaps the Cosmic Council left because they were afraid. We see time and time again that fear, when listened to, is a turning point for people leaving: Soren ("I don't want to do this. I'm afraid"), Rayla (afraid of what Viren might do to the world and Callum), Lissa ("she was afraid, she said no"), Terry (of becoming someone he's not), and of more isolationist behaviour. Janai becomes demanding in 6x02 ("Take your masks off, I want to see what you are truly feeling. You are... afraid?"), asks Karim "what are you so afraid of?" in 4x02, to which he responds with permanent integration. And others who overrule fear — "Of course he was afraid, but you had a job to do!" / "It won't follow because it's afraid of me" — being antagonistic because of it.

Aaravos — who the other First Elves at least trusted — doing / becoming something awful, which causes them to turn and run. Maybe they're more de-powered than we think (we are assuming, after all, that they're at the full height of their abilities and can kill him, neither of which may be necessarily true). Aaravos states in 'Patience' that "I have not seen the stars in centuries. But when I see them again—when the stars are forced to look upon me, their dark brother" and the Epic of the Void poem in Tales of Xadia ponders:

Where do the fabled Great Ones hide? What secrets have you locked inside? [...] Of Starfolk, fabled, fallen, found— Once everywhere, now none around. Is all we are to know of thee Consumed by Dark, or cast to Sea? So bound to Earth, are we denied The touch of Stars? Have our Gods died? Where do the fabled Great Ones hide?

So, seemingly, there was the removal of Aaravos from the council, then something that made him be 'Fallen,' and that includes why he can't just access the First Elves wherever they are now the way he could before. With all this in mind, onto the 'conclusion'.

So What's the Point?

Quick timeline run down:

5,000 years ago: First Elves and 'ordinary' elves are separate. There are Archdragons and humans. Only First elves and archdragons, presumably, have magic.

3000 years ago: Laurelion and Shiruakh have their battle. More fighting between the archdragons and first elves may be ongoing. Humans forge the Nova Blade and presumably the scale armour.

Between 3000 and 2000 years ago: Primal elves are made distinctive. Aaravos is higher up in Startouch 'society'? First elves are more regularly walking around on the mortal plain. Aaravos has his first de-powering. Leola gives humans magic and is executed. Anak Araw is the Dragon Prince and Aaravos' goal of vengeance is born.

2000 years ago: Elarion is thriving under primal magic with humanity. Dragons (and possibly first elves) don't like it. The First Elves leave (ish). Sometime in the next 800 years Aaravos robs the Starscraper, taking a singular staff and a quasar diamond and gives humanity dark magic.

1200 years ago: Sol Regem is Dragon King. The Staff of Ziard is gifted, sowing chaos. Stand off with Ziard happens.

1000 years ago: Luna Tenebris is the Dragon Queen. Humanity is exiled to the west under the Judgement of the Half Moon, potentially after poaching all the unicorns. The Mage Wars happen, with the Staff passing through many hands, with Xadia not stepping in to stop any of it.

300 years ago: Luna Tenebris is murdered, throwing the archdragons into a succession crisis. Queen Aditi mysteriously vanishes (aka is eaten by Aaravos) before she can resolve it. The Mage Wars end (?) possibly because of Aaravos' imprisonment thanks to the Orphan Queen. She acquires the Key of Aaravos and passes it down her new royal line; the Jailer presumably keeps the staff and passes it down her occupational line of high mage of Katolis.

The one wiggling thought is that Ziard states that "One of the great ones" gave him the staff in 3x01, implying that more than just Aaravos are still around, but Sol Regem being pissed does imply that he knew it was Aaravos directly. Speaking of Sol Regem, I get the sense that he knew more than he was letting on, given that he tattled on Leola, hated humans but grew much more bitter as he progressed towards modern day (no more offers of mercy or bargaining), and his distaste for Aaravos despite not being involved in imprisoning him with the other Archdragons. The fact that he has the bleakest view on Xadia ("You think I can reign and fix what is broken in Xadia? No one can save it") and is the one Archdragon we know was canonically old enough to be contemporaries with the First Elves does not help matters, either.

I suppose what this all amounts to is that, with both the Archdragons and humanity (allied or not), First Elves faced a lot more conflict on the mortal plain than maybe first considered, before things evened out to something more stable and reverent. Humans were made to be distinct from primal elves on purpose, but in a flawed manner (i.e. they can connect to arcanums Anyway), possibly in a way that inspired Aaravos to do the same if he wasn't inherently connected (which is perhaps what his book used to be as a conduit). First Elves might've left because they were freaking terrified, and not necessarily just indifferent.

Meanwhile, the more you look at humans, the more they're beautiful freaks of nature within Xadia, and while they've undoubtedly done fucked up things in pursuit of magic and power/protection, we know Aaravos stoked the Mage Wars, and it also wouldn't surprise me if certain facts (like the unicorn extinction) was the responsibility of other parties in Xadia in congruence, rather than just on their shoulders. Unreliable narrators and all that + even when they were present, the Cosmic Council seemingly wasn't doing much, relying on Sol Regem both to report to them and to serve as a witness, and then doing fuck all about Aaravos when shit actually hit the fan. Maybe Aaravos and his quasi-human army hyped on primal magic freaked them out.

Uh. Thoughts?

[aishangotome]

Azel Radwan: Romantic Ending Epilogue

Chapter 25

Thank you @passthechloroform for providing the script for this chapter!

We reunited in Acroite and said "goodbye" once more, each of us needing to fulfill our duties.

But this wasn't a "goodbye" forever, so there were no tears. Though tinged with loneliness, we began to move forward, this time with determination.

The days of pausing and hanging my head were over.

Some time passed after that—

Azel: This is completely useless. Start over.

Kamal: What?! How many times do you think I've rewritten this?!

Azel: It's your fault for only bringing me bills full of holes.

Azel: Even if it's outside your area of expertise, think from multiple angles. As it stands, there will inevitably be those who profit and those who suffer losses.

Kamal: Ugh... Azel, you used to draft bills so easily. I guess that really was amazing.

Enis: Of course it was. If you think we can do it just like him, you're in for a rude awakening.

Enis: Let's take it one step at a time. Kamal has only recently returned to public service.

Kamal: Sigh... I understand why people want to rely on divination.

Azel: I'll still give you an oracle if you pay me. At a special price.

Kamal: No thanks. Your divination fees are so exorbitant, I'd go bankrupt in an instant.

Enis: By the way, Kamal, how long do you intend to continue with this "older sister" act?

Enis: Now that the exile order has been lifted, there's no need to disguise yourself anymore, is there?

Kamal: I like it. Because, you know, I'm really beautiful, right?

Azel/Enis: ......That's true... / ......You are.

Kamal: Oh my, thank you! I'm so happy to have such honest little brothers.

Azel: Putting aside such trivial matters, how long do you intend to stay hidden?

(He noticed after all.)

I shift my body, which had been hiding behind a pillar, waiting for their conversation to end.

I meet eyes not only with Azel, but with Kamal and Enis as well.

Kamal: Oh, it's that time already. Miss Emma, long time no see.

Emma: It's been a while. I'm sorry to interrupt your conversation.

Azel: These two are the ones interrupting.

Kamal: Did you hear that, Enis? That misogynistic Azel is bragging so openly about his love life.

Enis: Was he bragging?

Kamal: Because he's saying, "I want to spend time with you alone as soon as possible. I don't want to be disturbed by anyone!"

Enis: That's true.

Azel: No, I'm just fed up with the sheer number of consultations you two have about official duties.

Azel: Listen, I'm already dead. Don't keep relying on a dead god.

Kamal: I know, but you're so competent, Azel. It's hard for us mere mortals to fill your shoes.

Azel: That being said, don't come back again.

Kamal: Could you at least show a little remorse?

My two older brothers don't seem to intend to stay long and start walking towards the exit.

But when they pass me, they stop dead in their tracks.

Enis: Miss Emma, have you thought about that matter?

Emma: Yes. I've discussed with the owner about opening a bookstore in Tanzanite and received permission.

(That's why I came to Tanzanite this time.)

The first thing people did when they started walking in a world without God was to seek knowledge.

The era when divination provided answers without the need for thought was over, and people were desperately flocking to the few bookstores that remained.

To improve the situation, His Majesty the King, Enis, has begun inviting book merchants to settle in the country.

This time, the owner was chosen and has been approached with an offer to open a bookstore with the support of the nation.

(But the owner is a merchant who wants to travel, so he wasn't keen on opening a Tanzanite branch.)

(...Until I raised my hand.)

Emma: I'd like to discuss various conditions...

Enis: Let's make time right now. Let's go together—

Azel: I'll handle the contract procedures. Enis, you have other things to do, don't you?

Azel, who had somehow appeared behind me, places his hands on my shoulders.

I sense an unspoken pressure from him saying, "Don't go with him."

Enis: Kamal, not again.

Kamal: He's saying, "Don't take my Emma away," right? Oh my!

Azel: Yes, you don't need my help anymore, then. That's a relief. Never come to the temple again.

Kamal: I'm sorry. But you should be a little more honest with yourself.

Kamal: No girl would feel bad about being loved.

Azel: ...>:(

Kamal: See you later then. Miss Emma, let's have a tea party together another day.

Enis: I'll take my leave as well. Miss Emma, I appreciate you considering this proposal.

Perhaps sensing Azel's pressure, this time they disappear beyond the sand clouds without stopping.

(It suddenly became quiet.)

Azel: ...What's with that big luggage?

Perhaps feeling awkward as well, Azel hurriedly breaks the silence by pointing at the luggage I had left by the pillar.

Emma: Actually, I'm having trouble finding a place to live.

Emma: I've been invited to the castle, but it's not very relaxing, so would it be alright if I imposed on you here again?

Azel: I'm in debt to you anyway. I can't disobey you, can I?

Emma: Of course, if you don't like it, I can rent a place in town—

Azel: You can stay here.

With a swift motion, he picks up my luggage, and Azel strides off into the depths of the building.

But after taking a few steps, he realizes I'm not following and turns around.

(Does this mean I can live here?)

(Before, he never even bothered to check on me like this.)

I desperately try to hide my surprise and run after him, not wanting Azel to get sulky.

Emma: Thank you very much. But I feel bad taking over part of your room like before...

Emma: I was thinking of cleaning one of the rooms and using it.

Azel: It would take years. Give up on that.

Emma: I have plenty of time.

Azel: The ceiling might collapse in places that haven't been repaired, you know?

Emma: That's a little scary... but actually, I found a good spot when I was exploring the temple before.

Azel: That place is sealed off now.

Emma: ...I haven't even said which place it is yet, have I?

Azel: A god knows these things.

Emma: You said yourself before that gods are ordinary people, Prince Azel.

Azel: I don't recall saying that.

Emma: ...Could it be that...

Azel: No.

Emma: You don't want to be apart from me for even a moment—

Azel: That's why I said no!

Emma: Eek...!

The feeling of having my cheeks pulled after so long made me a little happy.

Azel: ...Well, if you insist, I'll make you a room.

Azel: But you can only use that room from morning till evening.

Emma: Why is there a restriction?

Azel: The desert nights are cold.

Emma: I know that.

Azel: ...That's why.

(...?)

Azel, who had been walking with me, suddenly starts walking ahead, leaving me behind.

Emma: Wait!

Azel: Why should I wait?

(He said I can't use the room at night because it's cold, which means...)

Emma: Is this what you wanted to say?

I reach out to Azel and hug him tightly from behind.

(I already know this warmth.)

(Because I've experienced it so many times.)

Emma: That's right, you might be just right as a substitute for a blanket at night.

Azel: ...That's not it, but if that's what you want to think, then interpret it however you like.

Emma: You really aren't honest, are you?

Azel: I'm always honest.

Emma: But I also like that part of you that absolutely refuses to be honest.

Azel: ...

Azel turns around and looks down at me.

I feel like his lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but no words come out.

(...What was he about to say?)

-

After enjoying a meal together for the first time in a while, we finished our nighttime preparations, and the evening hours arrived.

With the bookstore opening discussions concluded, I took out the alcohol I had bought in town from my bag.

Emma: Actually, I brought some alcohol as a souvenir.

Azel: What are you scheming?

Emma: ...You suspect my goodwill is a scheme? How cruel.

Azel: Am I wrong?

(As expected of Azel...)

Of course, choosing alcohol as a souvenir wasn't a whim.

Emma: Since we'll be living together again, I thought I'd like to have a heart-to-heart talk with you first.

Emma: You're not very honest, so I thought we could have a real talk with the help of alcohol.

Azel: Why should I go along with something like that?

Emma: ...Because I'm uneasy.

Emma: You're easy to understand, but you never express yourself in words.

Emma: I want to make sure I'm not doing anything you dislike without realizing it.

(Precisely because he's Azel, who has been troubled by the violence of love, I want to be sure.)

(I want to make sure that barging into the temple wasn't a nuisance, that my presence isn't a burden...)

Emma: I'll go make something to drink—

As I try to move away, he grabs my hand.

Azel: ...What about you?

Emma: Me?

Azel: There are still things I don't understand about you.

Azel: ...I'm afraid that before I know it, I'll become the perpetrator...

Azel: ...

Azel: No, forget it.

Azel lets go of my hand and takes out alcohol cups from a nearby shelf.

(...I thought he wouldn't honestly admit his love because he was embarrassed.)

(But in reality, precisely because he's been tormented by love, he's afraid to acknowledge it.)

(He's afraid that he might be unconsciously inflicting violence on me too...)

(Even though he knows it's different, maybe there are wounds that haven't healed.)

Emma: Prince Azel... Do you remember what I said when you forced that debt on me?

Azel: That I'm an evil god?

Emma: Not that...

*flashback*

Emma: Even if I'm in debt, I'll say no to things I don't like.

Emma: Don't think I'll just obey everything you say.

*flashback over*

Azel: —Ah, you did say that, didn't you?

Emma: That's the kind of person I am.

Emma: I'll say no to things I don't like. Of course, I'll also say yes to things I do like.

Emma: I don't intend to hold back, even if you're a former god.

Emma: That's why... I'd be happy if you loved me a lot.

Emma: Like Kamal said, no one feels bad about being loved.

Azel: ...

Azel turns his back to me and silently pours the alcohol into the cups.

Then, after taking a sip, he returns to my side.

Emma: Of course, you can also say no to things you don't like, Prince Azel—Whoa?!

Suddenly, he scoops me up and throws me onto the bed.

Before I can sit up, Azel leans over me and lightly pecks my lips.

Azel: How is this?

Emma: Uh...

Azel: You'll say no to things you don't like, right?

He gently nibbles at my neck, and my body heats up.

It's not an unpleasant heat; I tremble at the unfamiliar sensation, but I'm not afraid.

Emma: ...I don't... dislike it...

Azel: Very well.

(Come to think of it... Doesn't Azel become a kiss-demon when he's drunk...?)

By the time I remembered this, it was already too late. He continued to kiss my neck and slowly went down my collarbone, then trailed onto my chest over the negligee.

Emma: Nn... Um...

Azel: Ah... kisses and hugs were part of the payment terms, weren't they?

Emma: ...If I request them, will you provide them?

Azel: I'm already broke, burdened with a debt I can't repay even in a lifetime.

Azel: It doesn't matter if it increases a little more now.

Emma: Ah...

When he took my nipple into his mouth, I couldn't possibly remain calm.

A strange sensation welled up inside me, and I instinctively turned over to hide my breasts.

Azel: Why are you running away? I just want to kiss you...

Emma: It's embarrassing... Ah... Nn...

He pulls down my negligee halfway, and his lips touch my exposed back.

He kisses me greedily, over and over again, and the chill of the desert night fades away.

Emma: Nn... I thought... you disliked this sort of thing...

Azel: I only dislike women driven mad by aphrodisiacs.

Azel, transformed into a kiss-demon, places a kiss behind my ear and whispers.

Azel: This is what normal lovers do, right?

(...!)

(He finally acknowledged that we're lovers.)

(...The power of alcohol is truly great.)

His large hand caresses my leg, and—

Emma: W-wait, I'll drink some alcohol too!

Azel: Huh?

Emma: I don't dislike it, but... at this rate, I feel like I'm going to go crazy with embarrassment...!

Taking advantage of an opening, I slip out of Azel's arms and grab the alcohol cup that was on the table.

Azel: Ah...

Since there was still some left in it, I drank it all in one gulp. The sweet and refreshing liquid slid smoothly down my throat.

(Delicious...)

(...Huh?)

Emma: This doesn't seem to be the alcohol I brought...

Azel: ...

Emma: ...! There are two bottles.

The bottle cleverly hidden under the table was my souvenir, and the bottle in front of me, upon closer inspection, was just a normal drink made with fruit from the desert country.

Emma: When did you switch them...?

Azel: ....................

Emma: ...So you're not... drunk...?

Azel: ...Is that bad?

Azel turns away from me.

Azel: I'm not so much of a scumbag that I would take advantage of you while drunk.

Azel: ...Well, I think I did make a move on you before, but that was an accident.

Emma: ……

Emma: Hehe…..

Azel: If you have the composure to laugh, then I won't hold back either.

He pulls me close, and with a swift motion, my already slipping negligee falls to the floor. A scream almost escapes my lips, but it's muffled by a kiss.

Emma: Ah...Nn...

This kiss, which held a hint of hiding his embarrassment, is deeper and more insistent than before.

As I desperately tried to resist him, his large hand comes up and wraps around my breasts, fingers squeezing the tip.

Unable to resist the surging waves of sensation, I felt a strange discomfort in my lower abdomen and tightly gripped Azel's clothes.

Azel: What's wrong?

Emma: Don't say "what's wrong"...

Emma: My body... feels strange...

Azel: It feels strange, but you don't dislike it, right?

(...Well...)

His hand slips between my legs, teasing a sensitive spot, and my hips buck in response.

I desperately bite back the moans that threaten to escape, but he might have heard them anyway.

Emma: Ah... Please don't hate me even if I start acting strange, okay?

Azel: ...

Azel: Are you stupid?

Emma: Ah...

His fingers push into uncharted territory, making squelching sounds.

Azel: —...You'd be cute no matter what you do.

Along with the rising pleasure, a small voice reaches my ears...

(Real love makes me this happy, huh?)

.

.

.

Romantic Ending Letter

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[am-i-interrupting]

Across the River | Viktor x Jinx’s Older Sibling

Chapter 7: Something Something Struggling, Something Something Support

Summary: After the explosion and disappearance of Vi, you take your little sister across the river to Piltover. You struggle to keep the two of you afloat but manage to get Jinx to the academy. This is where she procures an internship that changes your lives.

Up and down. Up and down. Up and down. Up again! And back down.

Jinx was playing a very dangerous game with the screwdriver in her hand. Your heart didn’t falter though. It didn’t stop nor did it race even when the pointed tip got mere inches from her eye.

“Oh,” she grabbed the screwdriver from mid air as she sat up, “did I mention Jayce invited us to a stuffy Piltover party?”

“No,” you said slowly, “when was this?”

“When we went to the Undercity,” she answered. “It’s not for another like three weeks though. He said we didn’t have to come but if we wanted to he’d cover the costs for the night.”

You didn’t like that idea. You didn’t like charity. Rarely ever was it actually that in your experience yet Jayce had been kind thus far. Not that you trusted him entirely but Jinx seemed to. There was also that specific tone in her voice.

“You want to go,” you stated, not asked but stated.

She twirled the screwdriver in her hand. “It’s a scientific Piltover party,” she said. “At least I could learn something if we went but we don’t have to.”

“You can go without me,” you told her.

She laughed, her nervous, uneasy laugh, “Yeah, no, not happening, sis. You’re going with me or I’m not going at all. There’s no way I could survive all of that without you. I told Jayce as much.”

“You can survive it,” you assured. “You’d definitely fit in there better than I ever will.”

“That’s a fat fucking lie,” Jinx said with a snort. “You are sooo much better at social shit than I am. The main reason I haven’t blown up Jayce or Viktor even though I like them is because I don’t take my gun with me when I’m at the lab. That’s the only reason. You think I could do okay with a room full of snobby, arrogant Piltover Pansies? Uh, no. You’re going with me—“ she stuck her finger in your face— “or I’m not going at all.”

The thought irked you. Going into a place where people were flaunting wealth with unspoken etiquette.

When you and Jinx ran up here, there’d been judgement.

It had taken you so long to get a job that was steady. It’d only been within the past two to three years that you’d been able to hold down one for more than a few months at best. All because things were different in the Undercity. You hadn’t known any other way to be than gruff and harsh. Even when you were being kind you’d been scolded for being inappropriate while you’d been here.

The ways of this world were still foreign to you even after more than half a decade. You weren’t sure how to handle things. Not really.

Even more than that, you didn’t want to embarrass Jinx. She was already facing the hardships of being different. People didn’t need even more of a reason to see her as less than. Despite her being better than the lot of them.

“Just think it over,” she said.

She caught the screwdriver mid air as she sat upright. Her feet went beneath her thighs as her legs crossed. She grabbed her homemade bomb and tightened some screws.

You shook your head and continued on making dinner.

You put together the noddles and sauce and shrimp all together in a bowl. You mixed the contents together to get a somewhat even spread throughout the pasta. A piece of bread smothered in garlic and a bit of cheese was placed atop.

You couldn’t even make food look presentable. How were you supposed to make yourself appear that way?

It was on a lunch drop off a couple days later that Viktor followed you out of the door to the lab.

It’d been a suspiciously quiet food drop off. Jayce had been avoiding your eyes but giving you meaningful looks the entire time you were there. You didn’t know what they meant and it was, quite frankly, frustrating.

There was no doubt in your mind that Viktor was going to tell you about the unspoken, quiet elephant in the room. You weren’t sure you were ready for the trunk to let out it’s trumpet but you knew you didn’t have a choice in the matter.

When a cane sounded instead of the door closing, you took that as your cue to brace yourself.

“Jinx has told me she might not go to the convention in a few weeks,” he said. “It’s a very special opportunity.”

“Look, I’m trying to convince her I just—“

“She does not need convincing,” Viktor said. “It’s you.”

You sighed. Your lips sucked into the interior of your mouth in something akin to frustration.

“I have no place at something like this,” you said simply.

Viktor made a noncommittal noise. “Perhaps not,” he settled on saying after a moment, “but she needs you there. You have the opportunity to give her something important.”

You turned to look at him. “How is embarrassing her something important?”

His brows furrowed and his lips pointed downward. “You have the opportunity to give her support.”

You rolled your eyes with a scoff. Your head followed the pull of your neck forward. You began walking away.

“I can only give her so much,” he said. “The people as a whole have forgotten my origins but they have yet to forget hers. Stand by her as someone from the Undercity and I will do the same for you.”

You stopped in your tracks.

“They do nothing but look down on us,” you said. “She’s at least been here long enough in formative years that she knows the way of their world. I don’t know anything. All I will do is show that she isn’t from here.”

A cane sounded against the tiles of the floor. A hand slowly fell on your shoulder. Your body tensed. Only a second of remembering yourself stopped you from slapping it away. Viktor’s face came into your view.

“I’ve been speaking with Jayce about this and he’s extended a hand. He has a friend on the council. She’s expressed willingness to explain the way things are at these events in ways neither one of us could,” he said. “She’s met Jinx several times and sees her potential. Meet with her and then decide?”

“I—“

Your teeth tugged at your lip. A habit you’d picked up from your little sister.

“I guess it can’t hurt too much,” you settled on saying.

“Thank you.”

You held up your hand. “Don’t.”

Mel Medarda was almost exactly what you expected and everything you didn’t.

She was beautiful, breathtakingly so. She spoke with the slyness of a fox. Her voice curled around words with elegance. Her every movement was done with the grace of a dancer. All these things made her the perfect assassin, ready to strike for a kill.

However, she was also kind. There was a warmth in her hazel green eyes. A true sweetness was in the smile on her lips.

She was vulnerable. She was honest. She was soft but she was still sharp.

Her fingers curled around around a silky green dress. The fabric reflected the light like glass.

“What about this one?” she asked, looking to Jinx. She held the fabric up against her skin. “It goes very nicely with the undertones you have.”

Jinx’s lip curled up. She moved to touch the fabric. Immediately her nose scrunched up and her eyes squeezed shut. She couldn’t hold in the noise of disgust.

“I don’t get how anyone could ever touch that fabric much less wear it,” she said. “That feels like butter, not clothes.”

Mel took the reaction with grace, laughing softly. “So that one is a no.”

A man came out from within the racks of clothing. He held a different dress in his hands. It was a dusty blue with silver floral details but as he came closer it was easier to see that it was velvet. Another material Jinx had learned she was not fond of this evening.

Mel hummed. “I’m afraid not this one. I do believe we’ve managed to further improve upon on what we’re looking for though. No velvets or silks. No pinks or blues. Focus primarily on purples, greens, and neutrals.”

The man nodded and spun around before he walked off.

You were careful as you followed the Medarda to not touch anything. You felt like even just doing that would cause you to ruin it and you did not have the money necessary to get it fixed.

All the information you’d been given over the course of the day swirled around in your mind. You felt like you’d been in a daze, not fully there nor in control. Things had just been happening to you since you met Mel Medarda for what she’d called brunch but you thought of as a late breakfast.

No, it was called brunch. Apparently there was a term for late breakfast.

You’d eaten a sandwich with tea that tasted awful. The sandwich was. . . something. Why there were cucumbers on it? You had no idea. It fucked with the texture in a way certainly.

Either way, during this you’d been given a crash course on all things politically correct. It was a lot.

Now you’d been coaxed into dress shopping with Jinx with Jayce’s money so one could assume that meant you’d agreed to going. You don’t remember doing that so you were kind of confused but okay! You were in it now.

Next time you saw Viktor you were going to curse him out. If Jayce and Mel were friends, then Viktor must have met her. That means he must have known she had a knack for doing these sorts of things. That meant this was all his fault.

“Oooh!” Jinx said with excitement in her voice. “Is there a jacket we could find to go with this?”

“I don’t see why not,” Mel said softly.

The man returned. “What about these?”

His voice was like nails on a chalkboard and dear Janna! You just wanted to smash his head in.

Yeah, Viktor was definitely getting something the next time you saw him.