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the-darkness-does-not-bargain · 2 years ago

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Andraste 1: 1

Okay, here’s the actual beginning of this AU, finally. It’s a bit of a doozy, but part of that is because the game’s opener is really just that long. We introduce all the central players here and start to hint at some of the critical details of this story. I hope you like it!

Even weeks afterward, you can’t say with certainty what happened to you in the Fade. It’s all a big, green, glowing blur.

You were laying in your bed, watching water drip from the crack in the ceiling of your cell, when you heard heavy-booted feet running past the bars. You looked up, but they were already gone. Thinking that one of the other prisoners might just be trying to escape, you settled back down with a huff. They were an idiot, whoever they were. No one had managed to escape Aeonar in the 11 years that you’d been here. Anyone who tried was butchered by the Templars before they could take a single step outside.

Sure enough, shouts and screams started to echo through the walls, a lot of them. There were sounds of fighting too, steel clashing and magic flying. You sat up again, peering out through the bars as best you could. Maybe someone had started a riot.

You debated crawling out of your bed to go see, but before you could decide, your cell door swung open, and Sir Francis stood in its frame. Her ugly, wizened face was smirking at you, as per usual. But what was unusual was the fact that her sword was drawn. You were no stranger to her beatings, but she never used her sword for that, generally preferring a switch or a whip. She stared at you like a wolf stares at a rabbit, sending a shudder of fear through you that you could not suppress.

“Sir Francis? What’s going on?” You asked, much more meekly than you wanted. You had learned quickly upon your arrival that showing your fear only made things worse, so you hid it behind subtle defiance and jokes that would frustrate rather than excite. Something about this, however, about the way she looked at you, made you forget any quips or taunts you might have said.

“The reckoning has come, child,” Francis said, sounding far too pleased with herself. “The Maker is at last bringing His wrath upon your unnatural souls.” Without another word, she marched up to you, heedless of how you tried to scurry back on your useless legs, and raised her weapon above her head, bringing it down in a deadly thrust.

She stabbed you. She actually stabbed you through the chest, hard enough to drive her sword through the bed beneath you. You almost didn’t feel it, you were too shocked. The pain took several seconds to register, but by that point you couldn’t scream, only cough up blood helplessly as she pulled her blade out again with a sickening, wet sound.

She watched you choke on your own blood, fingers scraping over the gushing wound in your chest, and she smiled, bright and exultant. “Pray to Him while you can,” she advised, downright fucking gleeful. “He may yet have some mercy to show you.” Then she left. She just walked the fuck out, leaving you there in your bed as the world started to dissolve around you.

You whimpered, trying uselessly to put pressure on the wound, unable to sit up or even roll over to spit out the blood or the tears now streaming down your face. Someone, anyone please, I don’t want to die…

At first, you thought your prayers would go unanswered, that the Maker, if He was even real, had truly turned His back on you. But, as you started to lose yourself to the darkness behind your eyelids and the cold spreading from your chest to the tips of your fingers, you felt Her. Your Friend, the only one who had ever stood by you. You felt Her hand, incorporeal though it was, close around yours over your wound. Her warmth enveloped you, pulling you in, keeping you safe as your eyes fell shut.

From here, it starts getting fuzzy, and it doesn’t really become un-fuzzy until you wake up in a freezing cold prison cell with a circle of blades pointed at your throat.

You remember… a green-tinted wasteland, of craggy rocks and dead trees, a landscape distorted and discolored by an eerie, veridian glow. You remember being able to move (move, child!) and stand (get up!) for the first time in over a decade, and how you immediately had to run (run!!) from a horde of monsters determined to eat you alive or worse. You remember a figure, gleaming green and gold, reaching out its strange, ethereal hand to you, and you remember the more familiar hand of your Friend gripping you by the forearm and stretching your arm across the last few inches.. But when your fingers touch, the memory ends abruptly, and all is foggy until the door to your new cell creaks open, and the most intimidating woman you’ve ever met stands in front of you.

She introduces herself as Mother Superion, which is an immediate red flag in your book. That first impression is not helped when she starts interrogating you, hounding you with questions about explosions and Divine Justinia and a Conclave. She thinks you did something, that you killed people. She prowls around the room, stopping next to you, and then you feel her bony fingers, far stronger than they look, close around your left wrist and yank it upward. “Explain this,” she demands coldly, as a burst of green-gold light briefly illuminates the room.

“I can’t!” You shout, turning as best you can to look at Superion as she stalks behind you. “I don’t even know what that is! Whatever you think I did, I’m innocent! I don’t even know where I am!”

The interrogation is put on hold by the arrival of bad news, delivered by a steely woman in steel armor, with a big eye emblazoned on her chest plate. This woman glares at you with unmasked anger and mistrust, and Superion addresses her as Lilith. Lilith tells Superion that the “Breach” is “expanding again” and demons are pouring through it faster than before. “We cannot remain here,” she insists. “Beatrice and the others will not be able to hold the line much longer.”

“You are right,” Superion concedes, before regarding you with a piercing, quizzical stare. You wonder what she could possibly see that seems so dangerous. A teenage girl in chains, dressed in the same bloody, threadbare fatigues you had been wearing in your cell? No weapon, no staff, not even a trusty rock, you could hardly be considered a threat. “As for you,” she says, standing in front of you once more. “We have urgent matters to attend to, and you will be coming with us.” Her tone and expression demand no argument, which would normally encourage you to argue, but you rein the urge in. “As to your guilt…” Someone clearly hasn't heard of “innocent until proven guilty”, which is frankly on par for Chantry Templar assholes. “There will be a trial. I can promise no more.” She nods at the soldiers still pointing swords at your neck. At her silent command, they withdraw, and one of them roughly grabs your bound wrists to unchain them from the floor.

You rub your wrists idly and stand with all the grace of a baby halla. You haven’t had time to process the fact that your legs suddenly work, and you aren’t given the time now. Mother Superion is already outside the cell, and a hard poke against your lower back nearly knocks you to the floor again. “Move!” Lilith snarls, having evidently jammed the pommel of her sword into your spine to force you forward.

It’s even colder outside the cell, where no walls offer protection against the icy winds. You can’t contain a yelp when your nearly bare feet touch the snow, earning an eye roll from Lilith. Frowning, Mother Superion summons an idling soldier with the snap of her fingers, ordering him to fetch boots and a small, green gambeson. These she hands to you, not ungently.

You accept them with what you hope is evident skepticism. “Why are you giving me these?”

This earns you another eye roll. “Put them on,” the Mother commands. “It’s a treacherous hike from here to the Breach, and I won’t have you dying of frostbite before your trial can be held.”

“How kind of you,” you snark sourly, even as you clumsily pull on the boots and gambeson. At least you’ll be warmer now. “You keep mentioning this Breach thing. What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about that.” Superion points her cane toward the sky, and oh… okay yeah, that’s… bad, that’s really bad. Off in the distance, the sky has been rent open, at a singular, bleeding point above a smoking ruin. A familiar, eerie green light is pouring from the wound, along with strange falling objects that strike the earth with concussive impact. The air is alive with thunder and a wailing too unnatural to be the wind. “We call it the Breach, a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It is not the only such Rift, just the largest. There are many, all caused by the explosion at the Conclave.”

“An explosion can do that?”

The Mother inclines her head. “This one did. And unless we act, it may grow until it swallows the world.”

As you stare, dumbstruck, you feel your left hand explode in pain. You scream, falling to your knees on the snow-swept stones, writhing as the same green light of the sky wound emanates from your palm. After several eternal seconds of agony, feeling like someone is tearing the flesh from your finger bones, the light fades and the feeling passes. You are left gasping, curled around your left arm, free hand clutching mindlessly at slush.

“Each time the Breach expands, your Mark spreads, and it is killing you. It may also be the key to helping us stop this. If you want to see another sunrise, you will help us stop this,” Mother Superion explains coldly, but honestly.

“Shit, fuck,” You curse, still trying to get your breath back to speak coherently. “You say it may be the key? To doing what?”

“Closing the Breach,” Superion explains. “Whether that is possible is something we will discover shortly.”

“And you still think I’m guilty? You think I would do this to myself?”

“Not intentionally. Something clearly went wrong. But if you wish to prove your innocence, this is the only way.”

You stare each other down for several seconds before you give in, knowing she’s right. “Fine, I’ll go with you.”

“It is your only choice,” the Mother responds before turning and setting off down the path, letting Lilith drag you to your feet.

As a trio, you make your way as best you can towards the ruins underneath the Breach. Soldiers run in all directions around you, panicked and disorganized. Some stand shivering behind wooden barricades, eyes fixed forward like their lives depend on it. One sprints past you in the opposite direction, declaring, “Maker! It’s the end of the world!” Other people, civilians by your assessment, mill about nervously, gawking and glaring at you as you pass.

“They have decided your guilt,” Superion says grimly. “They need it. All of Haven mourns our Most Holy, Divine Justinia.”

“I don’t give a shit what they need. I’m not guilty!” You bark, loudly, returning each of their glares with your own. Lilith shoves your shoulder to keep you marching forward.

The Breach pulses once more during your trek, sending shockwaves of pain through you again, forcing Lilith to drag you to your feet a second time. “The pulses are coming faster now,” she says to Mother Superion, as if you’re just a sack of flour that had fallen from a wagon.

“The longer we tarry, the more the rifts appear, and the more demons we face. We must press onward.”

“You guys still haven’t told me what happened. Or where this place is. I was in Aeonar, I’ve never been here before in my life,” you insist, trying your best to keep pace with Mother Superion.

The Mother looks uncertain as she considers these words. “This is Haven, the nearest town to the Temple of Sacred Ashes, where the Conclave was to be held. They say you stepped out of a Rift, and then fell unconscious. They say a woman was with you, but no one knows who she was. Everything farther in the valley was laid waste, including the Temple.”

Well, that answers approximately none of your questions.

The real trouble doesn’t start until you reach the bridge. What should have been an easy jog from one side to the other is completely undone by one of the meteors expelled by the Breach. The stone beneath your feet falls away, sending the three of you plummeting into the ravine below, hitting several hard rocks on the way down.

Mother Superion lands with the most grace, although that isn’t saying much, and Lilith softens her fall by performing a roll upon landing, ending in a crouched position on the ice. You, conversely, land flat on your face, with your forehead split over and your nose dripping blood. Coughing, you pull yourself up as best you can, grabbing onto a wayward staff that had fallen from the bridge with you. You lean on the staff to get your bearings, and curse again when you see another meteor crash into the ground in front of you.

Monsters, demons, emerge from the smoke, their snarling mouths shrieking and their talons primed to tear into your flesh. Lilith charges the nearest one with a roar, driving her sword into its chest while blocking its claws with her shield. It screams and disappears in a puff of smoke, but another is quick to take its place. Mother Superion battles her own opponent, pulling a hidden blade from her cane and slashing away with practiced ease and efficiency. Okay, the two of them seem to have things well in hand. You are more inclined to take your new staff and find somewhere to hide until they win. You can barely walk, let alone fight. Combat magic was forbidden in Aeonar, on pain of execution.

This plan goes out the window the moment a demon gets up in your face. It bursts from the ground in front of you in a haze of rage, claws already primed to tear you apart. Combat magic or no, you’re going to have to deal with it. The demon strikes, and you block with the staff, only to be sent wheeling to the side, and you barely have time to right yourself before it attacks again, scoring a deep slash in your arm. Fuck.

Your heart pounds with fear as blood leaks down your arm. Hiding was Plan A, defending was Plan B. Both have failed, leaving you only with plan C, your worst one yet: offense.

You summon your magic and swiiing! the staff with all your might, managing to hit the demon in the head as it gears up for another swipe. When the end of the staff connects, there is an explosion of fire, a veritable inferno blowing the demon to smithereens where it stood. You are left standing gobsmacked, looking between the staff in your grip and the scorched ice where the demon once stood. Well, maybe you know some combat magic after all.

Lilith and Mother Superion are killing off the rest of the demons while you’re still coming to terms with what you just did. The pain in your face and arm are fading away, but your attention is stuck on your hands where they clutch the wooden staff.

You look up just as they finish, to find them staring at you with shock and anger. Lilith stalks toward you, sword still in hand, and points the blade at you. “Drop the staff! Now!” She demands.

You gape at her. “Drop it? That thing almost killed me and you want me to—”

It’s as if your very blood is set on fire. Suddenly, every one of your nerve endings is alight with blinding pain. For the third time in less than an hour, you fall to your knees, screaming. She’s doing this to you, that bitch. You remember now, one of the punishments used in Aeonar to discipline prisoners. The Templars would force them to drink a potion that would leave them convulsing and shrieking on the floor. It had never been used on you (Francis had always favored more traditional forms of violence), but you’d seen it done enough times. Somehow, Lilith is doing it to you without a potion, and you now understand how even the scariest prisoners, the ones there for actual crimes, could be reduced to whimpering piss puddles by the end of it.

“Lilith, enough!” Superion calls out. In an instant, the pain stops, leaving you boneless, wheezing, and dripping sweat onto the ice. Lilith looks aggrieved at being told to stop, lowering her arm but gripping her sword even more tightly.

“What… the fuck did you do to me?” You whimper. “Fucking Templar bitch!”

“Quiet, girl!” Superion hisses at you. “Get up. We have to keep moving.”

“Tell that to her! How does she expect me to get there if I can’t even defend myself?!”

The Mother looks displeased, but she concedes to your point. “That is true.” She looks at Lilith. “We cannot protect her against so many. She will have to fight for herself.”

“And you’re trusting her not to burn us alive the moment we turn our backs?” Lilith questions hotly.

Superion looks back at you dispassionately. “Even if she succeeded, she would die from the Mark’s growth within a day. She knows better than to try.” She says this with confidence while also staring you down like she thinks you’re still considering it. Which, sure, maybe you were when Lilith was using her Templar bullshit on you, but the following seconds provide you with renewed clarity of purpose. She's right. You really, really don’t want to die (again), so until you figure out how not to do that, you’re going to stick with the people that can slice through demons like soft cheese.

Once you can stand again, the three of you continue on. You encounter more demons along the way, and you wield your staff with more competence than you’ve ever felt. You clumsily but effectively fling balls of fire at wraiths and shades, pushing them back when they get too close and even killing a few.

As you draw closer and closer to the Breach, the sounds of combat grow louder. “Who’s fighting up there?” You ask Mother Superion as you ascend a set of snow-covered stairs.

“You’ll see soon,” she says. Vague bitch. “We must help them.”

Sure enough, the scene you stumble across at the top of the stairs is fucked. A large group of shades is closing in on a trio of combatants. Two are mages, to your surprise, an elf man and a human woman, both of whom wield their staves with grace and power you can scarcely dream of having. The third person is a woman standing off to one side, firing on the demons with some kind of crossbow. One shade moves to attack her, only to get the heavy butt of the crossbow slammed into its head, followed by a rapid succession of steel bolts through the chest until it vanishes. Despite their obvious prowess, the demon horde doesn’t let up. New shades and wraiths crop up almost out of thin air, and above the scene sits an ominous glowing mass of green stone and magic.

Lilith and Mother Superion charge in without hesitation, falling into formation with the other three with practiced efficiency. You are a second slower on the uptake, but you do participate, joining your fire with the elf’s frost and the woman’s lightning. The demons don’t quit, and the strange crystal orb above suddenly bursts apart, becoming a hazy cloud of green light. Even more worrisome, the mark on your hand seems to respond to it, beginning to glow the same color.

In an instant, the elf mage is next to you, gripping your forearm firmly but not roughly. Up close, you notice that he is bald and has inquisitive gray eyes that seem to look past you to something deep inside. You suppose he’s handsome in a uniquely elvish way, but it doesn’t do anything for you. He stares with furrowed brow at the glowing mark before turning and thrusting your hand at the strange green light.

The connection is instantaneous. As though matching like to like, the energy pouring from your hand extends outward and twines with the magic of the cloud, forming a chaotic, swirling beam like a lightning bolt between them. It’s unequal. In fact, whatever power is coming from your hand seems to be too much for the cloud. You watch as it is overtaken and drawn inwards, contracting until it is forcibly coalesced into a single point, which then expels a final burst of mana before disappearing entirely and taking the demons with it.

The elf releases your forearm, regarding you with a mysterious smile. “What did you do?” You ask him, looking between his face and your hand, which no longer glows.

“I did nothing,” he says mildly. “The credit is yours.”

“I did that?” You question, looking up at the now empty air.

“Whatever magic created the Breach also placed that Mark on your hand,” the man elaborates. “I theorized the Mark might be able to close the Rifts that opened in the Breach’s wake. And it seems I was correct.”

“Meaning it could also close the Breach itself,” Mother Superion says from behind you, making you jump.

“Possibly,” the man concedes. He looks at you again, that odd smile unwavering. “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.”

“Good to know,” a wry voice speaks from your right. It’s the woman with the crossbow. She’s pretty too, and serving major badass vibes with her long black coat and shiny crossbow. Something about her is familiar, but you can’t place what. “Here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.” She struts toward you with casual confidence. “I’m Mary. Nice to meet you, kid.” She doesn’t ask your name or offer a hand to shake, so you’re left a little lost on how to respond.

“Um, that’s… a really nice crossbow,” you stammer, cursing yourself silently for how stupid you sound.

She smirks at you, but her dark eyes are sharp, like they’re sizing you up. “This old girl?” She says. “Her and I have been through a lot together. She’ll be great company in the valley.”

“Absolutely not,” Lilith growls, stepping forward to glare at Mary. “Your help is appreciated, rogue, but—”

“Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker?” Mary cuts in. She tsks, shaking her head. “Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore. You need me.”

“What we need are trained warriors with competent combat skills,” Lilith denies angrily.

“Baby girl, I have an automatic crossbow,” Mary counters with sanctimonious gentleness. “When you have an automatic crossbow, you don’t need combat skills.” Okay, you like her. You’ve decided it.

“She is right, Lilith,” Mother Superion says, unexpectedly. “Mary and I have fought many battles together. She is more than competent, and her help will be invaluable.” Lilith concedes unhappily, but crosses her arms and glares while Mary keeps on grinning, smug as anything.

“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions,” the elf says. “I am pleased to see you still live.”

“What he means is ‘I kept that Mark from killing you while you slept’”, Mary elaborates.

“Not just me,” Solas counters. “Beatrice also helped a great deal.” He looks toward the human mage, who has yet to say anything. You turn to look at her too.

Your first thought is that she’s beautiful. Holy shit. Wow. She might be the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. She stands tall but unassuming, dressed in sleek, black combat robes. Her long black hair is pulled up in a tight bun, her skin is tan, and her cheeks are dusted with freckles. Her dark eyes watch you calmly, expressing neither mockery nor anger. There’s a quietness to her presence, a steadiness that makes you want to trust her, something you’ve never felt toward anyone before, let alone someone you’ve just met.

“Solas did most of the work,” she deflects humbly. “I merely assisted.” Her accent is Fereldan, which catches you off-guard. It’s the posh kind of Fereldan that speaks to nobility, but if she never spoke you would have assumed she was Orlesian, maybe from Montsimmard.

You have trouble tearing your eyes away from her, but you do have a pressing matter to address. “I’m Ava. You guys seem to know a lot about this thing,” you say to Solas, holding up your left hand.

“Solas is an apostate,” Mother Superion explains. “He is well-versed in such matters.”

“Technically all mages are apostates now, Mother Superion,” Solas responds matter-of-factly. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Beatrice shift uncomfortably at these words. “My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any Circle mage.” There’s a pompousness to his statement that grates against you, even as he looks apologetically towards Beatrice and adds, “Not to offend or diminish your prowess, Beatrice.” To Mother Superion, he says, “Speaking of prowess, however, you should know that this magic is like nothing I have ever seen before. Ava may be a mage,” he says, indicating you. “But I find it hard to believe that any mage could have such power.”

Mother Superion looks between him and you. “Understood,” she says, her tone giving nothing away. “We must proceed to the forward camp.” She sets off without another word, Lilith and Beatrice falling in line behind her immediately. Your eyes follow Beatrice shamelessly as she goes. Solas follows at a slower pace, and Mary brings up the rear with you.

“Come on, kid,” she says, patting your shoulder. “We’ve got demons to kill.”

The next problem comes in the form of another Rift, positioned outside a sealed wooden gate blocking access to another bridge. Your little party charges into the fray as before, and you notice certain things about each of them as you fight. Lilith is like a bull throwing herself against the nearest enemy, but she’s not reckless. She keeps her guard up and never falters, able to return the harshest blow with one of her own in a dance she performs effortlessly. Mother Superion moves like a snake, sliding between foes and striking them down before they can hit the empty space where she was milliseconds ago. Mary keeps her distance but is always moving, always seeking to flank, always looking for weak points to exploit. Solas fights strategically, using his frost magic to isolate individual enemies and slow down groups before they can surround anyone else. He freezes a shade in place before it can attack Lilith’s flank, shattering it into a thousand pieces with another pulse of mana.

And Beatrice, well… Beatrice is just a full badass. For a mage, she doesn’t seem to care about keeping her distance. She weaves between demons, twirling her staff like a dancer, wreathing her body in arcs of lightning. She strikes as much with her staff as she does with her magic, cutting through wraiths with the sharp end and bashing shades with the blunt end. At one point, she even impales a shade, pushing it away from Solas before obliterating it with a concentrated burst of electricity. She makes you, with your flailing fire balls, look like a toddler waving a stick.

Solas directs you to aim your hand at the Rift to close it while he and the others occupy the demons. You do, and the same beam of Fade energy connects from your hand to the Rift, forcing it to close, and leaving your fingers tingling and throbbing in its wake.

“The Rift is closed,” Mother Superion calls out. “Open the gate!”

The heavy wooden doors creak open, held aloft by two battered looking soldiers, revealing the snowy bridge beyond. You’ve finally reached the forward camp.

Your group marches past the soldiers, the Chantry sisters tending the wounded, the rows of bodies hidden under tarps, and heads straight toward a man in Chantry dress leaning over a table. He looks up at your approach, and scowls at you specifically.

“Well,” he says, voice hard and carrying an arrogant, Orlesian lilt. “Here you are then.” He looks at Lilith and Mother Superion. “As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution.” Okay, so he’s not friendly. Noted.

Mother Superion manages to look even more offended than you feel. “Order me?” She scoffs angrily. “You are a glorified clerk, Duretti. A bureaucrat!”

“And you are a thug,” Duretti counters. It's not the word you would have chosen to describe the Mother (and you can think of many), but she and Duretti seem to be familiar with each other, so maybe he knows something you don’t. “But a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry!”

“I serve the Most Holy,” Superion asserts.

“Justinia is dead!” Duretti shouts, banging his fist on the table. “We must elect a replacement and obey her orders on the matter.”

You roll your eyes, unable to contain your snark any longer. “So no one’s actually in charge here. Great, I’m really feeling the power of the Faith right now.” Somewhere behind you, you hear Mary snort, and even Solas’s lips quirk upward. Beatrice, however, frowns like you’ve insulted her family or something.

Mother Superion ignores your quip, as does Duretti. “Call a retreat, Suzanne,” he says, beseeching. “Our position here is hopeless.”

Superion (Suzanne, your brain catalogs for later) shakes her head. “We can still stop this before it’s too late.”

“How? You won’t survive long enough to reach the Temple, even with your soldiers.”

“We must get to the Temple,” Lilith insists, stepping forward. “It’s the quickest route.”

“But not the safest,” Superion counters, although her tone is ponderous. “Our forces could charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains.”

“But we lost contact with an entire squad on that path,” Beatrice says fervently, crossing her arms.

“It’s too risky,” Lilith agrees. “We must charge. We will lose men and precious time if we don’t.”

“Abandon this now,” Duretti cuts in, stubborn as anything. “Before more lives are lost.”

At that moment, the Breach pulses again with a thunderous cacophony, and your Mark responds in kind, drawing a pathetic whine from you. This draws everyone’s attention to you, and Beatrice appears at your side, hand outstretched as if to touch your arm, but unable to close the gap.

“Are you alright?” She asks, with genuine concern. You nod, unable to speak because you’re currently gritting your teeth against the pain. By her worried expression, you know she is unconvinced, but she doesn’t argue. Instead, she asks you something most unexpected. “How do you think we should proceed?”

“You’re asking me?” You squeak, stupid with shock.

“You have the Mark,” Solas points out.

“And you are the one we must keep alive,” Superion concurs, even-toned. “Since we cannot agree on our own…”

You glance between all of them, trying to gauge if they actually mean what they’re saying. The last person who had ever asked your opinion about something was Diego, when he wanted to know if you thought the crack in the wall of his cell looked more like a bear or a dragon. They return your gaze steadily, including Lilith, although she’s obviously not happy about it.

And… you hate that you're about to agree with a fucking Templar, but… "You say charging ahead will be the fastest way?"

“Yes,” Lilith says confidently. “The Temple is just over the ridge. It’s a straight shot.” That sounds good to you. Knowing your luck, if you tried the mountain path, you would just fall off of it.

“Then I say we charge.” And, just to reinforce the fact that you’re still not cool with anything that’s happening right now, you scornfully add, “I won’t survive long enough for your trial. Whatever happens, happens now.”

Mother Superion nods. “Let’s go then.”

“On your head be the consequences, Suzanne,” Duretti mutters as you stalk past. Superion ignores him.

Your party progresses toward the ruins at a steady pace. You encounter more demons and another Rift. This time, you need no instruction on what to do. As soon as an opening presents itself, you stretch your hand toward it. This time, it doesn’t close immediately, but you feel something give way inside of it, causing all the demons to slow and still as though stunned. They don’t disappear however, and after a few moments they regain mobility and carry on as before. They attempt to rush you, clued in to your interference, and you ready your staff to start incinerating them.

You needn’t have bothered. Before a single demon can reach you, Beatrice is there, as fast and deadly as the lightning she summons. She’s like a storm, furious and inescapable. She destroys one shade and uses the momentum to propel her staff into another. You clutch your own dinky staff, wondering if you should help her, or if she even needs your help.

“Close the Rift, Ava!” She calls to you as she seamlessly blocks an attack. She throws her opponent back with a pulse of mana and carries on to the next. She’s unstoppable.

Doing what she says seems like the best use of your time, so you turn back to the Rift in question and go in for a second attempt. This time, when you feel it break, it breaks for good, closing with a crack. The tingling in your hand fades away faster than last time, and something in you feels stronger.

“Sealed, as before,” Solas comments, walking up to you. “You are becoming quite proficient at this.” He looks thoroughly unruffled, and on inspection, the rest of your companions also seem unharmed. “Were you hurt?”

“Huh? No.”

Solas looks at you with interest. He reaches out and touches your arm with careful fingers. Brow furrowing, you look down to see what he’s staring at. He’s touching a tear in your gambeson, a long slash crusted in dried blood. Your bare skin is exposed underneath. With a start, you remember that this was where the shade cut you back when you first picked up your staff after falling from the bridge. But looking at it now, your skin is unblemished. No sign of the wound exists apart from the blood on your sleeve. Shaken, you run your fingers along your face, trying to find where your forehead had split open on the rocks, but there’s nothing there.

“How interesting,” Solas says mysteriously. “Well, I’m glad you are unharmed. We should press onward.”

He turns away, but before you can ask after what he means, a new voice interrupts.

“Mother Superion, you managed to close the Rift. Well done!” Two new women are walking up to your group. One has dark skin decorated with scars, short, red-tinted hair, and muscles big enough to be seen even under her heavy armor. The other is a girl who looks to be your age, dressed in Chantry clothes with a head of dark, fluffy curls and a bow and quiver over one shoulder.

“Do not congratulate me, Dora,” Mother Superion says, indicating to you. “This is the prisoner’s doing.”

The prisoner has a name, ya know? You are tempted to say this, but Mary catches your eye and subtly shakes her head.

The buff woman regards you curiously. “Is it? I hope they’re right about you. We’ve lost a lot of people to get you here.”

“You’re not the only one hoping that.” Which is about as diplomatic as you can be. You’re getting really tired of this.

“The way to the Temple should be clear,” the curly-haired woman says, adjusting the strap of her quiver. “We can give you time, but you should hurry.”

“Right you are, Camila,” Superion agrees. “Let’s go. Dora, gather whoever remains and bring them here.”

“At once,” Dora confirms, already jogging away.

“Maker watch over you,” Camila says, smiling softly as she follows Dora.

You wonder what this Temple of Sacred Ashes looked like before the Conclave. You imagine some impressive, immaculate building dusted in snow, gleaming in the sunlight. Whatever it once was, it is a ruin now. A blasted heath littered with burning corpses. Pristine stonework lays shattered, staircases have been destroyed, and statues have crumbled to dust. In the center of it all sits a massive Rift, seemingly the base of the Breach itself.

“This is your chance to end this,” Superion says to you. “Are you ready?”

You stare at the Rift, following it all the way to the Breach itself, so far up in the sky as to be partially obscured by the clouds. It rumbles with thunder as whole boulders float in a slow orbit around it. No, you’re not fucking ready. Obviously.

“I’ll try,” you demure. “But I don’t know how to even get up to that thing, let alone close it.”

“No,” Solas denies, shaking his head. “This Rift was the first, and it is the key.”

“We have to try. The Maker is with us, He will see us through,” Beatrice says. She’s so steadfast. She has real faith, not in you, but in the rightness of this cause. Somehow, that’s enough. Even her bringing up the Maker doesn’t deter you. Her faith isn’t in you, but that’s okay. You’ll do what it takes to prove her right.

You pick your way through the debris, looking for the quickest path down. As you jog across ruined walkways, something weird happens (and given how your day has been, that’s really saying something).

“Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice.” An unfamiliar voice, smooth and cold, echoes through the air of the Temple.

“What are we hearing?” Superion asks, her eyes darting around for signs of hidden enemies.

“Presumably the person who created the Breach,” Solas responds.

Strange spikes of glowing red stone dot the path you tread, and when you come upon one, you see Mary visibly recoil. “Shit. Suzanne, this is red lyrium.” Red lyrium? Up until now, you had assumed that green was the only color lyrium could come in.

“I see it, Mary,” Superion confirms grimly.

“What the fuck is it doing here?” Mary growls, staring at the crimson mass and gripping her crossbow even tighter than before.

“Magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the Temple, corrupting it,” Solas suggests calmly, though his shoulders are tense.

“Whatever it is, it’s evil,” Mary spits, stepping away. “No one touch it, you hear?” She ushers you all past it without further delay.

“Keep the sacrifice still.”

“Someone help me!”

Mother Superion gasps audibly. “That was Divine Justinia’s voice!” She speeds up impressively for a woman who uses a cane (even a sword-cane), and you struggle to keep up on your baby halla legs.

Eventually, you all make it to the base of the Temple, dropping down into the center of the heath where the large Rift sits. The Mark ignites at the proximity, but the pain is more bearable now, somehow, maybe because you closed the previous Rifts.

Divine Justinia’s plea rings out again as you stare at the floating crystal mass, and a distressingly familiar voice answers: your own.

“What the fuck is going on here?!”

Sure enough, the others recognize it as you do. Superion stares at you in shock. “That was your voice. Most Holy called out to you, but…”

Anything else she means to say is cut off abruptly. The Rift pulses, expelling a wave of blinding light, and in its wake, something like a vision plays out before your eyes.

A woman in ornate religious dress hangs suspended in mid-air, arms forcibly outstretched. She stares in horror at a shadow, tall and willowy, with glowing orange eyes. Some of the dialogue you’ve already heard is repeated, and then you show up out of nowhere. Literally. You are laying in a heap on the ground, barely holding yourself up by the elbows, and your body is glowing a soft, yellow-y gold. You recognize it instantly as the color of your Friend, who always comes when you ask her to, and this apparently is no exception. In the vision, you repeat your question, and Divine Justinia calls to you. “Run while you can! Warn them!”

The shadowy figure tilts its head, regarding you with its burning stare. “How curious to find such a revenant here,” it says. “What Great Spirit loves you so, child, to bring you back from death?” Somehow, you can almost see the thing, whatever it is, smiling. “A pity. Kill her, now.” There’s another brilliant flash of light, and the vision abruptly ends.

You stare at the space where the shadowy figure was, until you are unceremoniously yanked around by the arm, Mother Superion’s fingers clamped hard on your bicep. “You were there,” she says accusingly. “Who attacked? And the Divine, is she truly…?” She sucks in a tremulous breath. “Was the vision true? What are we seeing?” She asks, more steadily.

“I don’t know!” You cry, pulling your arm out of her grip. She lets you go, which is good because you probably wouldn’t have succeeded otherwise. “I don’t remember!”

Solas steps in, looking at Superion. “It is echoes of what happened here. The Fade bleeds into this place.” He directs your attention to the Rift. “This Rift is not sealed, but it is closed. Albeit temporarily. I believe that with the Mark, we may open it, and then seal it properly and safely. However, doing so will attract attention from the other side.” Once he makes his point, his gaze shifts to you, and there’s a curiosity in it that you don’t like, that makes you nervous. It’s like he’s trying to figure something out about you.

Superion does not notice this. Her attention is on the gathered soldiers. “That means demons. Stand ready!”

It happens like this. Around you, everyone falls into formation. They spread out, surrounding the Rift on all sides. Soldiers ready their swords and axes, archers nock arrows, and everyone in your party gets ready to fight. Lilith, Camila, Dora, and Solas spread out, while Mary, Mother Superion, and Beatrice stay close to you. When everyone is in position, Mother Superion nods at you and draws her blade. You look at Mary, who gives you a cocksure smirk as she hoists her crossbow. Lastly, you look at Beatrice, and find her steady gaze watching you. She doesn’t smile, but her shoulders are straight and her bearing sure. “We’re with you”, she says, which fills you with more confidence than anything else so far.

You turn to the Rift and extend your hand. Things play out as they have before, with the energy of The Rift battling against the energy from the Mark, and everything seems to be going fine… up until a burst of Fade energy ejects from the mass, and a scaly, horn-covered demon the size of a house materializes out of thin air.

“This is such bullshit!” You lament, dropping your hand to face the beast.

“Now!” Superion shouts. “Kill the demon!”

The battle begins in earnest then. The enormous monster meets resistance from all angles. Arrows and bolts fly, pinging against its tough hide. You join your magic with Beatrice and Solas, pelting the thing with a full elemental onslaught, and foot soldiers ring its feet, diving in and out while trying to slash at its ankles. The demon is undeterred, cloaking itself in lightning and swiping at the nearest soldiers it can reach, sending them scattering. All the energy you’re throwing at it seems barely to bother it.

“We must strip its defenses!” Mother Superion calls. “Wear it down!”

“Ava, use the Rift!” Solas shouts at you. “The demon draws on its power!”

“Go, we’ll cover you,” Beatrice says, sharing a nod with Mary. In unison, they concentrate their fire on the beast, actually managing to get its attention, and they draw it slowly but surely away from you. Once again you are struck by the beauty of her movements, the devastating grace with which she commands magic. If any of you manage to survive this, you wonder if she’ll teach you some tricks.

For now, you focus on the Rift, reconnecting the energy streams. It’s draining work. You can feel the Mark drawing on your strength to fuel itself, and you start to worry it’ll come up short. But you push through, and as before, the Rift bursts open, stunning the demon and bringing it to its knees, allowing the soldiers to charge it like a swarm of rats. Lilith is right underneath it, driving her sword into its face. Dora takes point on its other side, slashing vigorously into its back. Camila and the other archers continue to rain arrows from above until it starts to resemble a pin cushion or a reverse Iron Maiden (you’ve actually seen one of those before).

You leave them to it, taking the time to catch your breath. Beatrice and Solas watch you concernedly, but you wave them away.

“I’m good,” you say, hoping you sound sure and that they don’t see your body shake.

Just like before, the demon recovers itself eventually, sending a shockwave of electricity that repels its attackers backwards. Lilith and Dora roll neatly with the impact, but the other warriors are not nearly so lucky. Most of them lay unconscious or dead around the beast, who now turns its evil, black eyes on you.

It charges. No amount of counter-fire can deter it this time. You are too slow, moving on jelly legs that don’t want to cooperate even to save your life.

It brings one massive claw down to cut you into pieces. Somewhere to your right, someone shouts “No!”, and then…

There’s no blood, or pain. There’s no impact. The demon didn’t hit you. Or rather, it definitely did, you realize, but somehow… didn’t. One moment, black talons were about to turn you to ribbons, and the next they missed, swerving wildly into empty air.

“Um, what?” You say dumbly. The demon seems just as surprised, but is quick to give it another try. It attempts to backhand you, and once again, its fist passes through you like you aren’t even there. This time you notice the problem it’s having. The moment it was due to make contact with you, your body changed, becoming like water or air, letting the claw pass through it seamlessly.

“Ah, I suspected as much,” Solas says mysteriously, sounding way too calm for the situation at hand.

The demon snarls, swiping furiously at you, and each time fails to connect as your body shifts in and out of solidity. It’s nothing to do with you. You instinctively tense to avoid each attack, but something else is making this happen to you.

While you stand there getting swiped at like an idiot, everyone else is taking advantage of the demon’s distraction. You hear the rattle of chains and look up to see them launch heavy grappling hooks into the demon’s back, leashing its limbs and dragging it away from you.

“Ava, attack the Rift!” Mary commands, already laying down fire to push it back further. You do as you’re told, feeling the Mark pull more and more of your energy away to break the Rift apart. But it does break, giving your allies more precious seconds to wail on the beast unimpeded. You, meanwhile, nearly fall over, only to be caught by Beatrice.

“Easy,” she murmurs to you, carefully setting you back on your feet. She steadies you with a hand on your arm, keeping the other on her staff, always ready. “You’re almost there. Can you feel the Rift weakening?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak while your lungs struggle for air.

“Once more should do it,” she says, always with more confidence than you feel. “Can you do that?”

“Y-yeah,” you pant. “I… I think so.” You hope so.

Your arm shakes with exhaustion as you raise it again, but Beatrice stands firm behind you, free hand gripping your shoulder. The beams connect a third time, all while the demon begins to pull free of its chains. You try to ignore it, to focus entirely on the Rift. You have the growing sense that it is collapsing under your power, under the Mark’s power. It bursts open again, and you can tell even before Solas confirms it that this time is the clincher. You push through, even as Beatrice has to drop her staff to hold you upright. You keep going, trusting her strength, and will the Rift to close.

There is a concussive propulsion of mana, and another large burst of green light, but the Rift disappears. The energy of the Breach recedes into the sky, out of sight.

That about does it for you. You fully collapse against Beatrice, who carefully lowers you to the ground. “Ava!” Several voices cry out, but you can’t tell whose is whose. You try to keep your eyes open, gazing up at the wound in the sky, but you finally lose the battle, passing out.

#warrior nun #dragon age #dragon age au #my writing #da: inquisition #ava silva #sister beatrice #wow this is long #but i'm happy with it #things may not continue in strict chronological order from here #i mean i guess they already weren't #if you thought you hated sister francis before hoo boy #and ava is already a simp for beatrice #love at first fight #i don't know what mary's crossbow should be named #bianca doesn't feel right but i don't have another name right now #solas is already getting clued in to what's going on with ava because he knows about spirits and shit #everyone else will have to figure it out on their own #stay tuned

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mediumgayitalian · 9 months ago

Text

The best part of being his own camp counsellor is that he can wake up whenever the fuck he likes.

Nico’s a fan.

Because, however, his dumb ass made friends with the camp’s head medic, he doesn’t get to sleep in as often as he would like. He is instead often woken up before the clock strikes nine, which is a tragedy and one of the forty thousand reasons he is going to be present on Will’s judgement day. (The scales tip any which way on a regular basis, but as of last week, Will is going to hell. Unfortunate. Nico’ll still visit him, though. Bring him one half of a twizzler or something.) So when he wakes up, one lovely morning, mouth tasting like something rotted in it and sun well past halfway across the sky, he is capital-C Concerned.

What a horrible tragedy that is. Finally, for the first time in months, he was able to sleep in. And his first thought is not gratitude. Solace may indeed have to die — Nico was not this way before he started planting his annoying ass front and centre in Nico’s life. He’s quite fairly certain he used to be frightening and badass. Now Will orders him to drink milk for the sake of his calcium and he does. Gods.

“Morning,” he hedges, approaching the archery range, feeling marginally more alive than twenty minutes prior.

Kayla raises an amused eyebrow. “Dude, it’s, like, two.”

“Well fuck you, then.”

She smirks. “Aw, did baby not get his Sunshine fix of the day? Is that why he’s so grumpy?”

It really sucks that Will is so fond of his siblings. Nico wonders if Will would still like him if he knew how many times he daydreams of transporting Kayla onto the moon per day.

“As soon as I figure out which god would appreciate you as a sacrifice, you’re gone.”

“Yeah, right,” she snorts, turning away and lining up an arrow. She lets it fly, watching as it shaves a splinter off a hunk of wood fifty feet away. “You couldn’t get close enough to kick my ass before I’d skewer you, di Angelo.”

Remembering the warning arrow Kayla had shot through his shoulder last week, he wisely chooses not to press the matter any further. The power visibly goes to her head. Fuck.

“Just — tell me where Will is.”

“Why?” She strings another arrow. The grin on her face is a level of shit-eating that Nico has only before seen on a Stoll. She should spend less time around Julia, or else the camp is in for some serious trouble. “What are your intentions with my dear brother?”

Nico, on principle, refuses to answer that question. Kayla shrugs, finishing her shot and then turning around to stick her tongue out at him.

“No answer, no location! Find him yourself, loverboy. And remember that I am always watching.”

Stomping away, and ignoring the smile twitching at his lips — she is so annoying, truly, gods above he owes Bianca a thousand apologies for ever opening his mouth — he heads towards the infirmary. There are only six locations Will is at any given time, after all, except when he disappears for several hours randomly but Nico doesn’t know how to bring that up yet. As he approaches the infirmary, though, he hears it absolutely blasting with music, like genuinely shaking the ground a little bit, and knows exactly where to find him.

As he approaches the door, wincing at the door, he finds it closed. Odd — Will likes a breeze when he works. Even odder is the hastily-written sign pasted onto it:

ANNUAL CLEAN OUT DAY. IF YOU NEED ME, TOUGH SHIT. IF YOU NEED A BANDAID, TOUGH SHIT. IF YOU’RE BLEEDING OUT, CALL AN AMBULANCE AND PRAY. I AM BUSY.

(‘Busy’ is underlined three times.)

In smaller print, under the all-caps monstrosity, is:

Unless you’re Nico, in which case disregard the previous sentiment. No, Cecil, this does NOT mean you.

The note is written again in Ancient Greek, Latin, Spanish, Portuguese, French, Mandarin, Italian, Polish, Korean, Morse Code, and another ten languages Nico can’t even name. Actually, wait — the top left is Klingon. And middle right note does not appear to be language, showing instead a poorly drawn stick figure in armour being shoved into a cannon and shot into the sun by another poorly drawn stick figure in a lab coat. Nico loves a man who’s multi-talented, indeed.

Hesitantly, Nico cracks open the door. He is immediately assaulted by a solid wall of sound, and then nearly bowled over by the enigma himself, William ‘I Can Restructure A Human Brain But Cannot Tie My Shoelaces’ Solace. He catches himself at the last second, and then barely manages to catch Will, grabbing him around the waist just before his head hits the floor.

“Nico!” he shouts over the music, smiling brightly. “Hi! You’re here!”

“I’m here.” He can physically feel his voice cracking, but luckily the music drowns it out. Hopefully. “Uh, what’re you doing?”

“Cleaning!” Will straightens up, although he stays within the circle of Nico’s arms. Nico tries real hard to keep his gaze firmly planted on his face and not on the hands he still has in his hips. “I do it once a year, kick everybody out and deep clean the place. Helps keep it fresh and minimize the bloodstains on the floor.”

“Ah. And the music…”

“It’s fun!” Will shouts. He gasps when the CD player skips and a new song comes on, heavy base and funky synths blasting so hard the window panes shake. “Oh my gods! I love this one!” He turns his bright grin at Nico full force, absolutely no holdbacks on the dimples or freckles, gods help him, and bows cheekily. “Can I have this dance, good sir?”

“It’s Britney Spears’ Outrageous,” Nico protests weakly.

“Yeah!”

…Very, very weakly.

“…Okay.”

Will whoops, grabbing his hands and spinning him around. Nico yelps, nearly tripping over a cot, but when he looks back up Will has his eyes closed and is shimmying not unlike a worm on a fish hook, and it’s so ridiculous that he can’t help but laugh. Will pries one eye open, grinning widely, and shimmies harder.

“You’re such a dweeb!”

“Join me in the dweebiness! Free yourself!”

Nico rolls his eyes fondly, squeezing Will’s hand, and lets himself get ridiculous. He’ll deny it if anyone asks, but it’s fun.

…And not just because Will is next to him, smile brighter than any star, dancing like a massive dork, hand clasped in his.

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420days · 3 months ago

Text

CONGRATS | TRICK ୨ৎ

“Hmp.” Jamira tapped her footed as she stared at the television screen. She just witnessed her on and off boo, sneaky link, or whatever she called at the moment win his second NXT championship.

Even though she was proud of him she wouldn’t tell him because the two of them currently weren’t on good terms. They got into a big argument after she found out he was texting some girl and the two haven’t spoke since.

Trick tried reaching out to her the first couple of days but after that he said fuck it. It was now going week three and neither one of them caved in. Little did they know they were both missing each other more than anything.

“You going to celebrate with your boo?” Bianca said as the two of them sat next to each other. Narrowing her eyes Jamira looked over at her best friend and pursed her lips.

“Y’all still not talking?”

“Nope, I don’t have shit to say.” She shook her head and picked at the sequence on her gear.

“But I thought- nevermind.” Bianca mumbled making Jamira snapped her head in her direction.

“You thought what?”

“Nothing girl, Im not trying to be into it with man. I should’ve never said anything.”

“Bitch, don’t do that cause I would tell you something about Tez if Trick told me. I’m not gonna say nothing to him just tell me.” Jamira said, eager to know what was said.

“You better not! Tez was telling me that Trick told him that he didn’t text the girl. She’s his ex and was texting him. The two of them used to talk but once he started feeling you he cut ties with her.”

Feeling me? What is she talking about? Trick and I were purely sex. At lease that’s what she thought.

“His ex?” Jamira raised her eyebrows.

“Yeah, that’s what Trick told him. He was also saying how he felt about you but Tez wouldn’t tell me because he knew I was gonna tell you.” She rolled her eyes.

“That’s interesting cause I never heard of a ex but it’s whatever. I’m not tripping about it.” Jamira shrugged her shoulders and acted as if she didn’t care but in reality her mind was racing.

“Girl! Go make up with your man! I’m about to go find mine but let me know how it goes. Then again I may be able to tell by your walk tomorrow.” She smacked Jamira’s thigh before running off down the hall.

“She’s something else.”

Later that day

“You not going out to celebrate?” Melo asked as the two of them walked down the hallway.

“Nah, I’m finna head back to the hotel and call it a night. I’m not feeling celberating tonight.” Trick shook his head. Everyone was congratulating him on the win except the one person he wanted to talk to.

“I feel that we had a long night and shit.” He spoke but Trick zoned him out when Jamira walked past him like she didn’t know him. As much as he wanted to grab her he knew better than to cause a scene at work.

“You still ain’t fix it yet?” Melo sucked his teeth and looked over his shoulder at Jamira.

“Nah, I’m about to. I had other shit on my mind.” He mumbled once they reached the lockeroom.

“Well you better focus on her before you lose her. That’s why I told you that situationship bullshit ain’t worth it.” Melo told him and he nodded his head. He knew everything he was saying made sense but it was just a matter of actually doing something about it.

“I hear you, I’m about to fix shit now”.

After leaving the arena and driving to the next city Trick wasted no time making his way to Jamira’s hotel room. Surprisingly all he had to do was tell them he was her boyfriend and that was enough for them to tell him what room she was in.

“What are you doing here?” She mumbled as she pulled her robe closed and stuck her head out the door of the hotel room.

“We need to talk.”

“It’s three in the morning. You couldn’t do this tomorrow?” She rubbed her eyes.

“Nah, I didn’t want to go another night not talking to you and figuring this shit out. Can I come in?”

“Um sure.” She stepped back from the door and allowed him to come inside.

“What are we doing?”

“No what are you doing? I found messages in your phone not the other way around.” She scrunched her face up at him.

“Those are from an ex. I don’t fool with her anymore.”

“You never mentioned an ex.”

“Why would I? I stopped dealing with her two years before I even met you.”

“It’s just weird I don’t know. Why isn’t her number blocked? When’s the last time y’all had contact?”

“We didn’t necessarily end on bad terms so there wasn’t a reason for me to block her. We broke up and stopped talking for a long ass time and then right before I met you she tried rekindling but I told her I was cool on that.”

“When she text it was random and out of the blue. I ain’t never lied to you about nothing and I don’t have to.” He shook his head.

“When’s the last time you had sex?” She asked him.

“On a balcony in Cali.” He said and she instantly got flashbacks of the night they shared. He turned her every way but loose that night and that’s the same night she saw the messages from his ex.

“Hmmm.” She nodded her head slowly as she stared off into space. Standing up from the chair he walked over to her and hoisted her into his arms, resting his hands on butt. Immediately her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms found their way around his neck.

“I missed your pretty ass Jimi.” He kissed her thick lips as he laid her on the bed and laid between her legs. The two of them shared slow nasty tongue kisses as her hands ran up and down his beautiful body.

“You gonna let me take care of you?” He mumbled as he stood up and pulling his shirt over his head. Nodded her head she allowed him to untie the silk pink robe she was wearing and reveal her naked body. Being that she slept naked it was the closest thing she could throw on and answer the door.

“Hmm, you always do.” She stared up at his 6’4 statue that was standing over her. Underneath him she felt so small compared to him and she loved it.

After stripping out his clothes her grabbed the back of her knees he bent her legs back enough to expose her vagina that was already leaking and aligned himself with her center.

“Mmmh, baby.” She moan as he slide inside of her wet walls, filling her up. Immediately she squeezed around him causing him to let out a groan.

“I know you missed me mama but you gotta loosen up so I can make you feel good. Can you do that for me?” He tapped her thigh and leaned down to place a soft kiss on her lips.

Nodding her head she adjusted to his size and allowed him to move in and out of her. Her moans immediately filled the room as he gripped her ass cheeks and bottomed her out.

“That feels good ma?” He asked as he pressed his hands against her legs pushing them back towards her head as he went deeper with each stroke, circling his hips to hit her spot.

“I love hitting it like this. I get to see your pretty ass face while I’m in it. That shit is so sexy.” He whispered in her ear.

All Jamira could do was moan and take every thing he was giving her. There was never any running with him so she learned to take it and let him talk her through it in the process.

“You didn’t even congratulate me.” He smacked her ass as he continued drilling her. The room was filled with her moans but he wanted to hear from her mouth how he was making her feel.

“Trickkk.” She whined into his neck as she felt herself getting closer to her climax. Her legs were shaking and tears were streaming down her face.

Three weeks was too long to go without her man.

“You not proud of me?” He gripped her chin and forced her to look into his brown eyes. He wanted her to feel the same way he felt when she ignored his messages and walked past him at work.

“I am baby. I’m so proud of you.” She mumbled as her eyes became heavy and her toes curled.

“I appreciate that baby. I appreciate you so much.” His strokes got slower and sloppier as she came all over him and let out the loudest moan.

It wasn’t long before he felt himself reach his peak and he ejaculated on her stomach.

“Damn baby. I missed that.” He breathed out before kissing her lips and letting go of her sore thighs.

“I missed it too baby.”

tags: @bebesobrielo @trentybenty @amandairene88 @kiki1704 @paigereeder @uceyliyahh @skyesthebomb @yeaiamme2

#wwe #black writers #wwe imagine #black fem reader #black female writers #wwe fluff #black fanfic writer #black oc #black romance #black fanfiction #trick williams #wwe nxt #nxtimagine #trickwilliams X black oc

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ropebunnykant · 2 months ago

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you know, i have reason to believe that bison is not as naive about kant as we’re being led to believe right now.

in neither 10 things or taming of the shrew is bianca ever unaware of lucentio/cameron’s intentions and motivation. in 10 things, cameron is never pretending to be anyone else to begin with and is very open about the fact that he’s interested in her and it’s bianca that uses and manipulates him. whereas in taming, lucentio disguises himself as a tutor for bianca so that way he can woo her without her father knowing, but even still he tells her immediately in their first lesson who he is and what his intentions are. even with that, though, she still has a line about not knowing or trusting him.

in the heart killers, kant isn’t being forward about part of the reason he wants to get close to bison, and we’re sort of being led to believe that bison is taking kant at face value about wanting to be with him. however, immediately when kant walks into the burger shop, bison is suspicious. yes, he drops that rather quickly, but if the ost is anything to go by, maybe he’s just playing along.

which kind of brings me to the main evidence i have at this point - the lyrics of the ost very bluntly lays out the fact that the singer (bison) knows their love interest (kant) is up to something but that he’s willing to play along while continuing to question their motives the whole time. plus, we already know bison is perfectly capable of acting sweet and trusting when he’s actually not - we see that in the first five minutes.

additionally, i was thinking about kant’s “if i be waspish, best beware my sting” tattoo, which is a direct line from taming that katherine says. out of context it obviously foreshadows that bison needs to be careful of him, but in context, petruchio replies with “my remedy is then to pluck it out.” aka, he is aware she might sting but he’ll pull out the stinger entirely. if we look at that in parallel to kant and bison, it implies that bison again may likely be aware of kant’s true nature and his goal is subdue him in some way - to tame him, despite them not being based on those characters.

honestly i don’t think the betrayal and broken trust of it all is gonna be as big of a reveal as we may be thinking - i think bison already knows kant isn’t being 100% truthful and will probably figure it out himself what he’s hiding somewhere along the way

#or maybe i’m wrong but i’m just not getting the vibe he’s actually unaware #it’s giving very faux innocence #the heart killers #bison #kantbison #my analysis #mine

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mikavlcs · 2 years ago

Text

Had Enough

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Summary: Xavier starts to get overzealous with you. Wednesday puts him in his place.

Warnings: mild Xavier slander (sorry bud), possessive-ish wednesday

Word count: 1.1k

Notes: another request. hope you guys enjoy<3

Masterlist

Despite Wednesday’s reputation, there were very few people she classified as true enemies.

Sure, she despised the general population of Nevermore, but since she and Bianca had cultivated something akin to a friendship, there wasn’t anyone specific that haunted her thoughts during the day.

However, Xavier Thorpe was quickly shaping up to be the new target of her antagonism.

She and Xavier had a somewhat complicated relationship. Their issues from her first semester had been largely smoothed over since she took an arrow for him and he gifted her that dreaded iPhone in return. They weren’t exactly friends, but there was no animosity between them.

His feelings for her seemed to pass as well, something Wednesday was eternally grateful for. Unfortunately, it seemed that the new recipient of these romantic feelings was you. And that was completely unacceptable.

She despised the way he insisted on sitting near the both of you during classes to try and impress you with his abilities or tell you terrible jokes in the middle of lectures.

And there were few things that angered her more than seeing him put his arm around you during conversation or ghosting his hand on your back while walking in the hallways.

She wasn’t jealous. No, jealousy had nothing to do with it. In fact, she found the situation laughable, hilarious even. That Xavier, the blank canvas of a man that he was, thought he could take what was hers.

And sure, your relationship wasn’t exactly public. Neither of you was screaming from the rooftops about your feelings because you both preferred to keep your relations private, but it wasn’t as if you were actively hiding it either. Your immediate group of shared friends knew.

Enid, Wednesday had told personally. Only because she wanted the werewolf to know to give the two of you privacy whenever Wednesday brought you to her dorm.

Bianca pieced it together herself, a fact that irritated Wednesday almost as much as the smirk Bianca gave her whenever the two of you walked into fencing class together. Yoko and Divina figured your relationship out because they got, what Enid rather vaguely referred to as, a vibe. Ajax remained blissfully unaware but he was never a threat.

Even other students appeared to cautiously avoid flirting with you in any capacity once they noticed your closeness with Wednesday.

(This carefulness may have also been cultivated by the way Wednesday glared at anyone that got too close for her liking, but that was entirely beside the point.)

The entirety of Nevermore understood that you were spoken for, and she enjoyed that greatly.

But Xavier didn’t appear to comprehend that.

So she would have to take it upon herself to educate him.

The quad was quieter than usual.

It wasn’t completely silent. The chatter of a few dozen students melded together, casting a thin blanket of noise over the small space. But it was nowhere near as rambunctious as it normally was on a Friday afternoon. Which meant that it was easy for Wednesday to find you amongst the commotion.

You were sitting at one of the tables on the far side of the quad, pen in hand while you seemingly worked on homework. Your blazer was tied around your waist, fully exposing the vest underneath.

The sky had been covered by clouds all day, but the clouds were beginning to dissipate in places, allowing rays of light to shine through. One of these places happened to be right above your table, clouds parting to envelope you in a halo of light that could fool anyone into thinking you were an angel sent down from the heavens above.

You looked divine. And the only thing stopping Wednesday from stopping and fully appreciating the sight before her was the person seated beside you.

Xavier.

He looked to be helping you with your work. But Wednesday knew better. He was sitting close enough that your thighs were nearly touching, his lanky frame nearly swallowing you whole when he leaned over to look at your textbook. Every time you looked away to write something down, his eyes would trail down the side of your face in a way that absolutely enraged Wednesday.

What drove her over the edge was his decision to grab your hand.

She was marching over to your table within seconds, her gaze absolutely murderous. A few students in her path instantly fled when they saw her expression, but she paid them no mind, focusing solely on how Xavier’s face fell when you pulled your hand out of his grasp. The sight was just enough to stop her from attempting murder, but not enough to deter her entirely.

You were the first to notice her. The way your eyes lit up at the sight of her gave her an unpleasant fuzzy feeling that she loved despised.

“Hi, Wen,” you greeted, giving her one of the warm smiles reserved for her. Wednesday’s glare softened considerably as her eyes moved from Xavier to you.

“Hello, mon cher.”

“I wasn’t expecting to see you until later. Is everything ok?”

The concern in your voice was touching, a reminder of how sweet you were even in less-than-desirable circumstances. But she had other matters to attend to right now.

“Yes. What are you doing?” The question was directed towards you, but her eyes were on Xavier, her fiery gaze boring into him. He squirmed. You didn’t notice.

“Just English homework,” you sighed. Wednesday’s eyes flitted back to you, momentarily drifting to your lips before righting themselves.

“Bring it to my dorm. I can assist you with it myself.”

Xavier started to protest but another glare was enough to quiet him. You looked confused by the sudden change in plans but acquiesced.

“Oh, ok. Let me get my stuff.”

You stood and reached for your textbook only to be stopped by Wednesday.

“Allow me.”

Wednesday began gathering your things for you and in the process, she discreetly leaned over to Xavier and delivered her message, her voice a soft but petrifying whisper.

“Lay your hand on her again and I will remove it. Finger by finger.”

Xavier’s eyes widened with terror, his only response a harsh gulp. Wednesday nearly smiled.

Without another glance in his direction, she stood with your textbook and dragged you off to her dorm. You tried to ask what was going on several times, but she remained silent until she reached her destination.

Once inside her empty dorm, she dropped your things off on her desk and sauntered back to where you were, stopping just in front of you. Your faces were mere inches apart and her eyes wandered back downward against her will.

You began to ask her something, but she cut you off by leaning forward and connecting your lips. A noise of surprise escaped you before you reciprocated, hands instinctively cupping her cheeks. Wednesday tangled one hand into your vest and gripped your tie with the other, lightly tugging you closer. You stayed pressed against one another until you stepped back, slightly dazed.

“What about-“

“Your homework can wait,” Wednesday mumbled, silencing you with her lips once more. She kissed you once, feverish and rough, then again and again and again, until there wasn’t a coherent thought left in your head. Her movements were frenzied—desperate even, and you were helpless to do anything but follow her lead with the same fervor.

When you finally parted for air, she whispered something into the small space between you. Something you didn’t understand, but still wholeheartedly felt.

“Eres mia, mi amor.”

#can you tell i’ve never written anything like this lol #wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday imagine #jenna ortega

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voltronisanobsession · 1 year ago

Note

You know what, I’m going to warn you from now, you’re going to get a lot of Percy x reader requests form me (not that I can blame myself) so without further ado… Can I request a Percy x Melinoe!reader?

Everyone knows how Nico is the ghost king, but can you imagine Percy meeting and falling head over heels for a daughter of Melinoe? She may as well be a living ghost queen because of her control over ghosts.

I imagine she shows her love for him in strange ways since regular lovers give each other flowers and chocolate, what the reader does? She shows up in his nightmares and battles off any monsters giving him trouble. She also did something weird for Valentine’s Day, but I’ll leave that up to your imagination 😉

Maybe she even has magic, to smaller extent to the Hecate cabin? (Blame Hades II and my love for magic for that idea), I don’t know, I can just see her having a lot of tricks up her sleeves.

(I’m sorry for making this so long.)

Percy with a Child of Melinoe

I’m always ready for these Percy jackson requests, keep them coming😻😻😻 you literally be dropping the most COOLEST REQUEST LIKE DDAAMMMNNN I LOVE UR BRAIN

Also I’m so SORRY it’s super long, always write too much but I can’t help it😭😭 for some reason I need to have some loose story when writing anything😭😭😭

Ok so I headcanon any child related to any underworld gods/goddesses usually have like dark eyebags, so Percy meeting Reader for the first time kinda freaks him out. A lot.

Reader just emerges from the darkness of the forest with shadowy figures following close behind, bro really believes that his soul was chosen to be reaped because the way they would look at him with dead eyes LMAO💀💀

But you were just walking around. In the dark. Lowkey talking to yourself until you saw Percy

I think Percy would find reader very odd at first, considering all the other people he’s met

Their dark eyebags and dull appearing skin makes them look like a walking corpse, and the way that they would just be lurking in the shadows, kinda talking to themselves would make him raise an eyebrow

But he didn’t know that you were just talking to the ghosts surrounding you, all of them yapping about ‘unfinished business’ they have

Reader would often be seen around camp looking a bit jittery, almost like they’re hiding from something but you’re just trying to avoid the ghosts that won’t leave you alone

“Shh shh, fine I’ll help you Jonathan. But later, people are looking at me again. Now leave me alone, oh gods Percy is walking over, leave leave!”

Since no one can seem these ghosts reader can see, Percy genuinely thinks you’re just off your rockers

Until you reveal how you’re mother is Melinoe, goddess of ghosts (he would be confused at first since he probably had no idea who that was💀💔)

OMG WAIT

Imagine Melinoe!Reader can like allow people to see ghosts if they’re touching them in some way!!! So to show the poor boy that you’re not crazy, your cold ass hands touch his arm and BOOM! Percy cannot believe all these ghosts just SURROUNDING reader

After that the rest is history

They both would grow so much closer since Reader finally chooses to fully trust in Percy as he accepted them and all their weird and scary abilities!!

Percy starts tagging along with reader when they go to take ghosts to the underworld, though Hades isn’t happy to see him most of the time

“It’s fine uncle, Percy’s just helping me.”

“How can he help you if he can’t even see the ghosts grabbing him?”

“Wait they’re grabbing me?!”

“He’s messing with you Percy.”

Reader and Nico would also be pretty close too

Since they’re able to summon ghosts, Nico sometimes asks if he can see Bianca, and they all sort of just have random get togethers in the middle of the night

Family reunions we love ‘em😍😍

Nico and Reader also shadow travel together whenever he needs someone to talk to

Melinoe!Reader would be a BIG gift giver, but they aren’t the most conventional gifts 💀

While some would gift flowers or plushies, reader would probably give him like wilted flowers and trinkets they claim would ward off unwanted spirits, and maybe even an authentic dreamcatcher too!!!!

Reader might even give him bones of small dead animals, which he accepts with a grimace on his face

“Wow ok! Um where did you find these exactly haha!”

“Oh you know, I was walking around the forest and began finding these small bones! Then I went further and found larger ones and then even larger ones! I would’ve taken one but it was too heavy, so you get the small ones.”

He would keep them in a glass jar that’s next to his bed though because it’s the thought that counts <3

He would also bring you SHELLS he finds whenever he’s by the the beach, sometimes even going to deeper waters to find the prettiest ones for your own collection🐚

Percy definitely carries a bag so you and him could put bones and shells in it to take home if you’re out of camp

I also would think that sleeping around reader would give anyone in their vicinity nightmares so they usually appear in Percy’s dreams to fight off any nightmarish monsters

At first he thinks he’s going crazy that he keeps seeing you in his nightmares until you explain that you can travel through dreams, hence why you’re basically in his brain now

Totally normal😁

AND FOR THAT VALENTINES DAY THOUGHT

I think Reader would think a good idea date for both of them would try summoning some kind of powerful ghost during the night for fun😭

Like at first Percy thought it was a cute picnic date and was like aww they’re so cute🥰 until he sees the ritual circle and is like what😀

He’s like super worried that your soul is gonna get possessed or something so he just keeps holding your hands to keep you grounded to the living world while you continue chanting and smiling

This dude can’t catch a break with you

During battles is when everyone around experiences what readers true power and magic is

While they may appear weird on the outside, them summoning ghost after ghost and making them solid life forms sends shivers and chills throughout every living persons body

It’s a really unsettling feeling tbh

So while Nico can summon the undead, you’re able to summon ghosts which makes you guys the perfect duo when fighting together

And they’re able to make their opponent hear the whispering voices of the ghosts around them which usually drives the fear factor up by a LOT

They could also sap any energy in their opponents body but they need to be touching the person which involves fighting in close range

I think Reader could also possibly drag out the soul of a living persons body, but it’s a theory since they haven’t fully tried going through with it

Also random thought but Melinoe!Reader loves going underwater with Percy because it’s the one place ghosts can’t follow them

So it’s just like, they can finally breath and not have a million voices demanding things from them

Percy is just super happy to help them in way he can

Plus it means he gets to spend more one on one time with you without having to worry about any ghosts watching their every move

Reader and Percy have matching rings that ward off any evil and vengeful ghosts

OH ANOTHER THOUGHT TO FINISH THIS OFF

Readers hands are super cold and I like to think Percy’s hands are super warm, so whenever they hold hands it’s like a clash that they both like

And when they hold hands, Percy is able to the world through Readers eyes

Which means that Percy kinda bullies the ghosts into leaving Reader alone for a while and getting some kind of privacy💀😻😻

Percy is super in love with this reader despite the unsettling vibes they can sometimes radiate

Reader is just happily digging up more bones to add to Percy’s growing collection :D

#Percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #Percy jackson #pjo headcanons #x reader #pjo x you #pjo percy #pjo

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talesofesther · 2 years ago

Text

tender as the rain

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Summary: You find Wednesday walking alone in the rain.

A/N: If you ask me what this is, I'll be inclined to punch you, lovingly. Literally the result of my boredom and procrastination. Read at your own risk.

Masterlist

Puddles of mud and water splash around your feet. You're running, or more so walking really fast. You don't want to look desperate, even if you feel it.

The woods are awfully nightmarish with the pouring rain, big drops of water hitting the leaves create sounds that get you on edge. But Wednesday is nowhere to be seen and last you knew she was looking for some old abandoned meeting house in the woods.

She can take care of herself, you know it. However, it doesn't ease the incessant beating of your heart.

You find her following footprints that you were unknowingly walking over. She greets you with a scowl, hair clinging to her forehead and raindrops trickling down her chin.

It's a little awkward, your hands rise to touch her but you stop yourself midway. For a beat, you thought Wednesday seemed confused as to why you stopped, but the look is gone before you can fully register it.

"What are you doing?" You ask a little breathlessly, tasting the rain on your lips as you speak, subtly checking her over for injuries, "the statue dedication is happening soon, you should be getting ready and not… walking in the rain."

That was a good enough excuse, right?

"I'm alright," Wednesday reassures you first, and you mentally curse the way she can read you like an open book, "I was trying to learn more about Crackstone, and following a monster."

You sigh in relief, falling into step beside her as you start walking back to town. Only then do you open your umbrella, it won't do much now that you're already soaked, but it gets Wednesday walking closer to you.

"Without me? I'm hurt," you smirk, though not as confidently as you wanted to.

"Not my fault if you were preoccupied handing out fudges with Bianca," Wednesday huffs with a bite to her tone.

She refuses to look at you, choosing instead to focus on the immensity of the trees around her. You, on the other hand, follow the path of a rogue droplet of rain with your gaze; it drips from her hair and goes all the way to the corner of her lips. You can't help but notice her sullen eyes, the purplish lips, the trembling of her hands.

She's cold. She's been out in the rain much longer than you had.

"You could've said something, I would have come with you," you tell her quietly, feeling the rain soak through your sneakers.

"I didn't need you." Wednesday is still looking away when she mumbles it, so you don't catch the turmoil in her eyes; the fact she'd rather say that, than admit she would never willingly put you in danger.

You're used to the pain that comes with loving her, "yet I'm here anyway."

—

Weathervane's bathroom doesn't offer much in terms of helping with the wet clothes that cling to your body, but it would have to do.

Yours and Wednesday's coats are draped over one of the bathroom stalls, still dripping; while you do what you can to dry the rest of your clothes and your hair with paper towels.

Wednesday sits on the sink's counter, her hands clasped together on top of her lap. She's only in her white shirt, a few buttons undone; her hair is free of braids, cascading over her shoulders in black waves to dry faster.

It's unnerving how she still refuses to look at you.

This happens sometimes, you'll do something or say something that you can't exactly pinpoint and it'll get Wednesday distancing herself.

Casting a glance at her rigid figure, you bunch up a few paper towels, dampening the edge of it and moving closer to the raven-haired girl. It's only when she looks at the general direction of your face, that you speak; "may I?"

With her nod of consent, you stand between her legs and raise the damp paper to her eyes; she closes them before you even touch her cheek, you can feel her tensing under your touch. Her skin is still cold to the touch, but not as much as it was before you got out of the rain. You refrain from wrapping her body in a hug.

You're gentle with the way you clean the smudged eyeliner from below her eyes. You can feel her breathing fanning over your lips; unsteady, heavy.

Wednesday is gripping tight onto her skirt, and you don't think she realizes the way she starts to lean into your touch.

"Maybe you don't need me," you start in a hush, not sure where you're even going with this, "but you don't need to be alone, you can choose to have someone if you want."

You turn your attention to her hair next, separating one side into three strands and carefully placing one on top of another.

"Either way," you bite your tongue, wondering if you're digging your own grave, "you can tell me to go anytime, and I will."

At last, Wednesday's midnight eyes finally find yours. She looks at you for a long time.

You're close, so close you can count each of her freckles. It feels intimate. And you don't know Wednesday realizes it too. You don't know she's never had this with anyone; that it terrifies her.

She reaches out to you then; nimble, cold fingers tracing the edge of your jaw as if you'd crumble under her touch, "I can't ask that of you."

She tugs at the lapel of your shirt before you can ask why, pulling you to her until you have to brace yourself on the edge of the counter she's sitting on. You're warm on her, a warmth she's grown obsessed with — how foolish, to think she'd be able to escape the Addams family curse.

"As much I'd prefer otherwise," Wednesday pecks the corner of your lips, a kiss that's barely there at all. You feel her words on your skin, "I need you all the time."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @simp4wanda26 @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @user284747 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @maria-403 @pompompuri @halleest @wandaromanova @marveloussimp @rainbow-hedgehog @left-and-right-up-and-down @get-the-fuck-outta-here @awolfcsworld @elduster @alexkolax @georgi-salva @imdumbhi @youralphawolf72 @reginassweetheart @justyourwritter69 @yangsroboarmm @8e-h-e8 @irish-piece-of-trash @femalehomosexual666 @wol-fica @wednesdays-woes

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday addams #wednesday #wednesday addams x you #wednesdayedit #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #wednesday addams fanfic #jenna ortega #wednesday x reader #my story

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blakeswritingimagines · 1 year ago

Text

Your Dating Someone Else

Wednesday: If someone else were to have a crush on her intended love interest, she would first survey them, then devise a plan to eliminate them. This could be as simple as talking to them and making them like her instead, to something extreme like murdering them. It is truly a sliding scale of options.

Enid: She feels like her heart's broken into a million pieces when her crush does not reciprocate her feelings. She tries to process the information and look at the situation realistically, but she can't help but feel hurt and sad, knowing that her feelings aren't reciprocated. Even if she knows that there are plenty of fish in the sea, it's always difficult when someone she likes doesn't feel the same way.

Xavier: When his crush's attention and affection are directed towards someone else, he feels a mix of emotions—heartbreak, jealousy, and regret being among them. It is difficult to sit by and watch you give your affections to someone else, especially someone who may not treat you as well as he would have. He finds himself wondering if there was something more that he could have done or said to make you fall for him and what would have changed. He may also hold onto a shred of hope that you might eventually come around to appreciate him in the way that he appreciates you, but this hope is often accompanied by sadness and frustration.

Rowan: In response to his crush liking someone else, he would feel deeply disappointed, hurt, and rejected. He would be overwhelmed with feelings of anguish, sadness, and loneliness. He would feel as if it was his fault that you liked someone else rather than him. He would go through waves of self-doubt and think that there was something wrong with him, making it difficult for him to overcome his negative thoughts and emotions. Ultimately, he would need some time to process his emotions and hopefully move past this difficult situation.

Tyler: If he found out his crush liked someone else, he would definitely feel sad and hurt. It would be difficult to hear that he wasn't the person you desired and that someone else had stolen your heart. He would probably distance himself from you for a while to give himself time to process the situation and figure out how to move on.

Ajax: If you like someone else, he would feel a mix of disappointment, jealousy, and sadness. He would be disappointed that his feelings aren't reciprocated, jealous that the other person has captured your attention, and sad that he can't be the one to make you happy. He would respect your choices and try to move on with his life, but it might be a while until he can fully let go of his feelings and truly move on.

Bianca: If her crush were to like someone else, she would be heartbroken and jealous. She would feel sad, angry, and betrayed. She might even think that she wasn't good enough or wasn't your type anymore. She would probably wonder what she did wrong and maybe even blame herself. Over time, she would accept it and try to move on, but it would be difficult.

#wednesday addams x reader #enid sinclair x reader #xavier thrope x reader #rowan laslow x reader #tyler galpin x reader #ajax petropolus x reader #bianca barclay x reader #wednesday headcanons #wed

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rachelsfav-queer · 1 month ago

Text

Maybe A Boy? Pt. 3

(Part 1, Part 2)

(Trigger Warnings: Past Mentioned Transphobia, Past Child Abuse/Neglect)

Wednesday spots his target- friend, Enid doesn’t like it when he calls people targets, sitting at a table in the penta- quad and approaches silently, the only way he knows how.

Bianca is working on her strategy for the next Poe Cup, deep in her thoughts when the resident psychopath appears next to her, seemingly out of nowhere, and scares the shit out of her.

Bianca: *jumps* Shit! Wednesday, what the he- *cut off*

Wednesday: Bianca. There is something of importance that I need to tell you. Meet me in the locker room after fencing. Do not be late.

Before Bianca can even respond, Wednesday is already gone and the siren is left confused and dumbfounded, but her attention is caught by a notification on her phone. Pulling it out, she sees a text from Enid…

🐺Wolfie: be nice, im watching u 🫵

Bianca looks up from her phone and scans her surroundings, but finds no sign of the blonde, only leaving the siren more confused than before. And only slightly scared for her safety… maybe more than slightly… okay maybe a lot more.

*Two Hours Later, in the Empty Locker Room*

Bianca had waited patiently for the last of the fencing team to leave and now she finds herself walking around, looking for the raven. Just as she’s about to give up, she spots the dark figure on the other end of the room, obviously waiting for her. Bianca walks over to Wednesday and gets the seer’s attention.

Wednesday: Bianca, you’re here.

Bianca: Well, you asked for me, so I’m here. What’s going on?

Wednesday looks Bianca up and down from his spot, sitting on a metal bench. He considers the siren for a moment before speaking.

Wednesday: *gestures beside him* I’m… glad you are here. Sit down, please.

Bianca sits beside Wednesday and allows the raven to speak first. Wednesday turns to face Bianca.

Wednesday: Bianca, since I arrived here at Nevermore, you’ve been an undeniable thorn in my side, a worthy rival to keep me on my toes, a mighty ally in the battle against oppression, and eventually… someone I trust enough to call… a friend.

Wednesday: *hesitates* And so… I wish to tell you something very personal, something only a select few in my life currently know. I trust that you will keep it a secret for the time being, until I’m ready for it to known publicly.

Wednesday pauses for a moment and Bianca figures it’s her turn to speak.

Bianca: Look, I may be a bitch and all, but I’m not a monster. I swear, I won’t tell anyone something that you really don’t want public. And… just so you know? I trust you like a friend too.

Wednesday turned his head away at that, willing away the tears that appeared suddenly at the confession. It meant more to him to hear than he’d maybe ever feel comfortable admitting. But… not the point right now. Once the seer collects himself, he turns back to Bianca and speaks…

Wednesday: Alright. So, to begin, I am still deliberating on this matter at the moment, but I have recently come to the conclusion that I no longer identify as a girl. I believe I align more with masculinity. I am transgender.

Bianca gasped softly, a million things running through her head at that very second, as tears brim her eyes, but she holds them back and collects herself.

Bianca: Oh, Wednesday. Can- can I hug you? Just for a second?

Wednesday’s eyes widen for a second in surprise, but he quickly scans the room around them once more before nodding.

Wednesday: I suppose you can, but only this once, understand?

Bianca nods in agreement and carefully scoots closer to Wednesday, hesitating for only a moment before wrapping her arms around his shorter figure and embracing him for a long moment. Eventually, Wednesday hesitantly returns it and even melts into it, as does Bianca, before Wednesday begins to squirm a little in discomfort and the siren easily catches it and backs off, wiping her eyes for a moment.

Wednesday looks at her in confusion for a while before he speaks up.

Wednesday: Not to be blunt but… you are more emotional about this than I anticipated. Why?

With the genuine hint of confusion in the boy’s voice, Bianca doesn’t take the blunt question with any offense and simply asks her own in return.

Bianca: That’s a whole story and I promise I’ll tell you, but first I just want to ask, what are your pronouns and do you have a new name or anything? And when do you feel comfortable with me using them? Only in private or?

Wednesday: I go by he/him pronouns and I will keep my current name, Wednesday. And I would prefer you only use these pronouns in private for the time being. I want my friends to know first before I come out publicly. Now, explain.

Bianca: *chuckles* Alright, he/him only in private, got it. And okay, okay, Mister Bossy! Just… give me a sec, okay? I… haven’t told anyone this.

Wednesday: Of course, take your time. My apologies for rushing you.

Bianca: It’s alright, I appreciate it and I know it’s not intentional. *sighs* Okay, so… my home life wasn’t… exactly loving. My mom was never a great person to me and my father was absent. One day, my mom met this new guy and he… he made my mom so much worse. *sighs* I always knew that I wasn’t normal and I didn’t… *hesitates*

Bianca looks over at Wednesday and the boy nods in encouragement to her, and surprises her by offering a hand to her. The siren takes it with her own and powers through.

Bianca: I wasn’t… like the other boys. I didn’t… feel like the other boys. Before my stepfather, my mom at least tolerated it, but again… he made her worse. So… one day I had no choice, with the pressure from my mom to… and the hatred from my stepfather, I ran away and I never looked back.

The siren once again looked over at Wednesday and saw a curious gleam in his eyes, but something deeper in them as well, something… dangerous, but not directed at her, she somehow knew. Bianca continued…

Bianca: While I was out, living on my own and always on the move, I learned a lot of things. Like… I learned that how I felt actually had a name. I learned that I was trans. And one day, I was walking through this random town when I came across this… *laughs* crazy old lady. I swear, I was terrified of her at first! But as we talked… I sorta began to understand her and I realized… well I realized that she was scary as shit, but she was also really kind too. At least, she was kind to me. Once I realized that, we talked for nearly the entire day. And I, well… I accidentally slipped and I told her I was trans.

Bianca: But surprisingly, she took it in stride, it was almost like she already knew, I think? Or that she really just didn’t give a shit either way. Anyway, she told me to meet her again the next day at the exact same spot. She didn’t explain why, just ran off with this freaky laugh. I thought, what’s the harm and so I came back and she ended up giving me these potions and said that they’d help me transition, said they were “way more effective than that pharmaceutical crap” whatever that means.

Bianca: Of course, I was suspicious at first, but I tried it out and literally within a week! I was like a completely different person physically. I was… finally a girl! And this lady, she told me to contact her whenever I ran out for refills. I asked what her name was and she just told me to call her “Grandmama”-

Bianca is cut off by a sharp gasp coming from Wednesday and she looks over at the boy, who is wide-eyed and looks thoroughly shocked.

Bianca: Wh- what?

Wednesday: I believe that this crazy old lady you ran into was my Grandmama Addams…

Bianca: *flabbergasted* Woah… holy shit… that’s- that is so freaky!

Wednesday: Indeed… well, in case you were still holding any doubts, Grandmama’s potions are always perfect. She’s an expert, she doesn’t allow for unwanted side effects, unless she intends for them. So your potions are safe.

Bianca: *chuckles* I appreciate the reassurance. Anyway, yeah. After some time, I eventually found myself in Jericho. And there, I heard about Nevermore, that it was a home for all Outcasts. That’s where I saw my chance to really start a new life. So, I changed my name and used… less-than-legal means to get in, and I’ve been Bianca Barclay ever since.

Bianca: So… yeah, I know what it’s like. Don’t worry, Wednesday, I accept you completely and I’m really damn proud of you for coming out to me. And um… I don’t know, if you have any questions, I guess? I’m here. Oh, and if anyone tries to give you shit? Lemme know so I can let ‘em know to take a nice dip in the lake, alright?

Wednesday smirks at that and nods.

Wednesday: Thank you, Bianca. For your story, for trusting me with this information, and for your vow of protecting me. Tanaka has also made me promise to come to her if anyone tries to attack me for my identity. I must admit, despite my ability to protect myself, it is… pleasant to have such fierce allies on my side.

Bianca: Of course, Addams! No one’s allowed to talk shit about you besides me, anyway. Special rivals rule.

Wednesday: *rolls eyes* That’s not actually a thing.

Bianca: *smirks* It is now! I’m making it a thing. If anyone wants to mess with you, they’re gonna deal with the Queen Bee first. Besides, it’s not just Yoko and I that are gonna be pummeling any bigoted assholes. That wolf of yours is very protective and quite honestly, a little terrifying. Just like you.

Wednesday smiles at the mention of Enid and his eyes grow fond at the thought of her protective attitude ever since the night of the Blood Moon.

Wednesday: Indeed she is. In all honesty, she has made this whole journey of coming out much easier with her kindness and her confidence in me. I’d be a hopeless mess without her.

Bianca: *scoffs* Really? You’re a hopeless mess with her. Honestly, you’re both perfect for each other, since you’re both total gay disasters. You two were worse than Yoko and ‘Vina were before they got together, and trust me? Watching them dance around each for literally an entire year was painful.

Wednesday blushes at the lighthearted teasing and glares at the siren, though it’s off put by the small smirk on his face as he speaks…

Wednesday: I hope you realize that these revelations today change nothing between us, Barclay. I’m still going to ensure the bitter taste of defeat burns in the back of your throat.

Bianca: Oh, is that so, Addams? Why don’t you prove it and meet me back in the fencing hall for another round? I didn’t get the chance to kick your ass today, after all.

Wednesday: You’re on, siren. Get dressed, I’ll be waiting for you.

Bianca: Not if I’m out there first, raven.

The two stare off for a long, tense moment before they both shoot up to go grab their gear and get changed. By the end of the day, they’re both worn out, laid out on the floor, sweating profusely, but both smiling widely at another perfect draw.

End <3

(A/N: lol, Wednesday is transitioning into a boy and meanwhile, in the background, Enid is transitioning into an Addams, with her increasingly terrifying and creative threats lmaoooo)

#my writing #wednesday addams #bianca barclay #enid sinclair #wednesday netflix #wednesday series #wednesday fanfic #transmasc #transmasc Wednesday Addams #trans boy #wenclair

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nalyra-dreaming · 1 month ago

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Hello Nalyra I want to ask you about Marius and Armand in the books. Do you think Marius ever truly loves Armand? How come Marius has so many lovers and who exactly is his endgame partner? and do you think Armand was made vampire out of love?

Hey nonny!

Please forgive me, but you are applying mortal morality to beings outside of that morality.

Marius is 2k years old, of course he has had lovers.

And if he didn't love Armand, and almost fatally so as well, then he would not have made him. He fought with himself there, for years, and in the books the sickness Armand contracted (actually poison) forces his hand.

Yes, Marius made Armand from love, namely being unable to let him die. (Armand does the same with Daniel, in the books, and despite them using "out of spite" to describe Daniel's turning I cannot quite believe that.)

Yes Marius loves Armand, but Marius is already 1400 years old by the time he encounters Armand. He... thinks differently. He comes from a different time, with different values... and as a perpetual outsider and watcher, he picks up only those values that suit him, because, well - he can just sit through the rest (or literally sleep to skip centuries, as he does book canonically).

I don't think that there is a fixed endgame partner. In the books he spends a lot of time with Bianca and Pandora in the last books, after losing Daniel (yes, Daniel Molloy) who goes back to Armand.

But it isn't as... fixed as it is maybe for others, who call themselves "Blood spouses" in the books. Like Gregory and Chrysanthe - but even they have Davis in their love as well, as much "blood spouse" as they are to each other. It's not set in stone.

The(se) vampires exist outside of the strict relationship terms or jealousies, really.

Oh, of course there are relationships and jealousies. Pettiness. Anger. There's even a rather deadly jealousy encounter between Marius and Arjun in the last books.

But generally, if you have eternity to figure it out? And know you will meet again? Then a lot of outlooks change... there is no pressure of time to make something work right now, you can part and come together again, no matter the heartache or pain that may accompany the ups and downs.

Like, for example, Marius and Pandora, surely they did not stay apart for so long wholly voluntarily, no the means kept them apart (aka no phones or internet to find each other back then did not exist, obviously), but when they did find each other again... they found each other again.

Armand and Marius... find some discussion ground later on as well. Armand loves Marius - and Marius does love Armand. It's just not easy, given history and past choices. And some upcoming events.

But as I said, the books leave us at a certain point but... well. I'm sure they'll figure it out in the next few thousand years :)))))

#Anonymous #ask nalyra #amc iwtv #iwtv #amc interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire #iwtv armand #armand #marius de romanus #iwtv marius #the vampire chronicles #vc #vampire chronicles #arjun

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mediumgayitalian · 10 months ago

Text

———

“Hm,” Piper says, fingers steepled. She looks very intently at the air in front of her. “Hm.”

Nico scowls impatiently. “Feel free to be helpful at any given time. Now, even, if you’re so inclined.”

“Have you considered that the reason you’re so infatuated with Will is because you may be blessed by Apollo?”

“I’m infatuated with Will because he is the physical manifestation of everything I value in a person,” Nico says automatically. Then he frowns, processing the rest of Piper’s sentence. “Wait, what?”

Nico understands his error as the grin on her face stretches into something truly grotesque. “I was going to make a joke about your drama levels, but thank you for that. I’m really looking forward to telling several dozen people and delighting in the knowledge that you’re going to curl up into a bundle of humiliation under your bunk tonight as you think about it.”

Instead of answering, Nico decides to walk away. Since there is so much blood concentrated in his skull, resting mostly around his face region, he takes two steps and begins to pass out, but luckily Piper has followed him and impedes a head injury by gripping his arm and merrily forcing him forward.

“So,” she says, steering them towards the amphitheatre, “what’s Plan B?”

“Bold of you to assume there was a Plan A.”

“You like Sunny Boy way too much to walk in there blind.”

“…Touché.”

She’s smug enough to be silent, slinging an arm over Nico’s shoulders as they walk. The closer they get, the harder Nico is forced to grapple with just how godsdamn much he’s softened. I want you to be happy, Father had said. Camp will be good for you, Chiron had agreed. You’re a little twit and need socializing, Mr. D had snipped.

Nico needs a better father figure. He wonders if Paul Blofis’ offer is still open.

The amphitheater is not, of course, empty when they arrive, because Nico knows the Fates personally and each of them despises him. The actual training part is empty — unsurprising — but the stands are moderately filled, with people gossiping, braiding hair, and if Nico is not mistaken, a small, pop-up nail painting salon. Mitchel lifts a purple-smeared hand in an absentminded wave as they step onto the packed dirt.

Nico ducks under Piper’s arm, turning to face her. “I need to fight you,” he informs her. “For my own personal pride.”

She nods thoughtfully. “It does indeed need restoring.” He curved, icy blade gleams in the early afternoon sun, mirroring her dangerous smile. “Square up.”

Since honour is for nerds, Nico doesn’t bother waiting. He simply attacks, lunging for the left side Piper always leaves open. Unfortunately for him, her recent meddling in his love life means her mother has blessed her with a little sprinkling of extra verve, and she dodges easily and cheerfully.

He sends a glum mental prayer down to his father.

Anytime you’re feeling generous, Pop, he grumbles, I would love a boost.

There’s an actual rumble to the ground, as his father laughs at him.

“Real kind,” he says out loud. “Dick.”

“I wonder if you would have more success in the wooing department if you had conversations outside of your own head,” Piper says sweetly. She spins her sword in a neat little circle by his face. “All bay brooding makes you look so…broody.”

Nico scoffs at her. “Will seems to like my broodiness. For some reason. So there.”

“And yet…” She trails off, shooting him a teasing look. Nico is unfortunately very easy to tease (thanks, Bianca) (and for that measure thanks, Hazel) (Reyna too, probably) (and honestly Annabeth) (gods, and Percy) (don’t even get him started on Leo) (really, it would be more prudent to name the people who do not take sick pleasure in driving him up the wall) and as such succumbs easily to her tormenting, taking a hard hit to the side when he’s too keyed up to avoid her spinning slash.

“Note to self, don’t let the monsters know about big embarrassing crushes,” she muses. “They make Nico sloppy and will get him killed in battle.”

She mimes writing something down. This, thankfully, leaves her distracted enough that Nico gets his sword levered against hers, twisting until she’s disarmed. She lifts both hands up in surrender when he points a sword at her throat, but remains entirely unaffected by his glare.

“Pride re-instated?” she asks.

Nico huffs. “No.”

…Yes.

“You’re such a grouch,” she says fondly. She tries to ruffle his hair and is forcibly stopped by his jab to her ribs. Unfortunately, Piper McLean takes no shit sitting down, and in a minute they’re on the floor, getting caked in dust, trying to see who can leave the most bruises on the other. Nico would wager that they’re just about tied.

“You have a list,” Piper grunts, muffled as she bites his bicep. He shouts, wrenching his arm away — she is pointy. “I have no idea what you’re all mopey about.”

He digs his knee into the small of her back. “I gave him flowers! He made a poultice out of them!”

“Technically, you made the poultice.”

He elbows her in the stomach. She shrieks and jabs her knuckles right under his eye.

“You’re so annoying!”

“Ugh!”

Every part of Nico’s body aches. So badly. He’s not sure which one of them won their brawl, if either, but he knows for sure that he is actively turning purple. He feels like the first time his nonna gave him a hammer and a piece of cutlet — he was maybe five years old — and told him to flatten it. (He remembers, now, the look on her face as she wiped pulverized chicken flesh from her eye. Oops.)

“Go to Will and get healed up?”

Nico huffs a laugh, immediately wincing at the strain on his tender ribs.

“Yep. Let’s go.”

The walk is miserable and bruised. And slow, since both of them are limping. Several campers walk by snickering, since apparently Saving The Entire Damn World, For Real And Actually, You Ungrateful Brat, Should I Just Destroy It Again Then earns you no permanent respect.

It’s not too bad, though. Nico would rather chomp on concrete than admit it out loud, but Piper isn’t horrible company, and she hums when she walks. Bianca did the same thing. For once, it’s a pleasant reminder, although he does wonder if Nico will ever be able to look at the women in his life and not think of her.

(In all honesty, probably not. He sees her in the clouds, in the gnarled bark of the trees; feels her in the warmth of the sun; hears her in every snorting laugh. He likes to imagine how much she would love these women, though. If she were alive they would be her friends first. He knows she was happy with the Hunters, however briefly. He thinks he can maybe forgive himself if he thinks of her without weeping.)

“Least it doesn’t look too busy today,” Piper comments. She purses her lips at the Big House, which for once seems quiet. Perhaps Will made good on his threats and finally dosed the Hermes’ table breakfast spread with Benadryl. Nico would be proud. He deserves a day of peace.

“Great. That means we get the full force of Will’s bitching on us alone.”

Piper scoffs. “Please. You like it when he yells at you.”

Nico almost kills her for real. By the time she manages to kick him off of her, still snickering to herself, they both have a new layer of bruises on top of the old ones.

“Gods, di Angelo, you make it so easy —”

“Shut up,” he says hotly. “You are literally the most annoying person in this stupid camp.”

She sticks her tongue out at him. He scowls, kicking a rock to avoid kicking her and setting both of them off again. It rolls over the grass, pinging off the side of one of the many braziers and rolling finally to a stop back at his feet. In its new position, it perfectly catches the brightly shining sun, refracting the light in a dandelion-esque burst.

“Huh,” he murmurs.

Wincing at his stiff joints, he crouches, vaguely registering Piper pausing somewhere to the left of him. He scoops the little thing up, bringing it close to his face to inspect.

It’s roughly cut, so it’s not anyone’s jewel or anything. Some of the pieces are textured with tiny little divots, like a regular stone, but some are straight and flat and catch the light. Some kind of crystal, then. It’s dense, about the size of a walnut, and shaped kind of like a brain. It is a very familiar shade of blue.

“Holt Hades, you are sappy.”

Nico flushes, shoving the rock into his pocket. “Nobody asked you, Piper.”

“I asked me! I am always asking me.” She jogs to keep up with his suddenly speedy strides, gripping onto the elbow of his shirt when he tries to move faster. “Is this Plan B? Little gifts.”

“It’s a rock,” he says shortly.

“Diamonds are rocks.”

“I didn’t get him a diamond.” He pauses. “Should I get him a diamond?”

She shrugs. “I dunno. I’m not the one in love with him.”

“Who said anything about —”

“Nico! Piper! Hey!”

“Notice who he called first,” she whispers, right in his ear. She grins over at Will before he can say anything. Or curse her. “Hey, Will! How are you?”

It is unfair for a person to look good in mint scrubs. They don’t even suit him, not really, but he still looks — well, he’s beautiful. His hair is poofier than usual and sticks out like he stuck his finger in a socket, and his beam is so bright Nico has to genuinely squint to look at him, and how is it, honestly, that his freckles look like dappled sunlight? That’s not normal.

“I’m okay.” He waves them inside, not bother to close the door behind them — it’s nice out, and Nico knows he prefers the breeze and sun. “Bored.”

“Not enough ocular surgery to perform?”

Will’s grin turns wry. “Nope.” He reaches out to brush his thumb across Nico’s eye scar. He freezes, holding his breath, hyperaware of those callused fingers as they approach the ever-warming skin of his face, heart galloping in his chest. As soon as Will makes contact — because of course the touch was to get his vitals, c’mon, Nico, head in the game — he frowns.

“Why are so many of your capillaries burst?”

Piper smiles guiltily, holding up a hand.

“I beat him up.”

“Wha — you did not!” He turns to Will, indignant. “We beat each other up! She’s lying!”

Will sighs. He glares at them both for a full forty seconds, then turns his face up to the heavens, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like I do not deserve to be surrounded by this kind of dumbassery. Send lightning through the sky if I should let them suffer.

Nico waits. No lightning comes forth.

Will sighs. “Cot, let’s go, y’all know the drill.”

Piper mouths y’all as she sits down. Nico mouths eat dirt back at her.

“Now, I could hum sum’n and —”

“Sum’n,” Piper whispers delightedly. Nico ignores her.

“— get y’all fixed up good, but y’all’ve pissed me off good —”

Nico takes the initiative to pillow-smack Piper in the face while Will’s back is turned. Luckily, it muffles her shriek.

“— so I’m not gonna do all that.” He closes the cupboard with his hip, hands full of vials. “Ain’t even gonna waste ambrosia on y’all, honestly. Y’get some bruise ointment and a Tylenol ‘cause I know y’all were up to shenanigans.”

He puts a lot of emphasis on ‘nan’. Nico knows he is trying very hard to be stern, but he is in fact very cute, and Nico is putting a lot of his brainpower towards memorizing the specific wrinkle pattern that Will’s nose gets when he’s annoyed. If he says that Will looks like a bunny he might actually get shot, no matter how much Will allegedly seems to like him, so he manages to choke down the sentiment. But it is indeed there.

“— and take it easy, y’hear? Bruises don’t heal in a day.”

Gods, his eyes are really, really pretty. He’s almost tired of thinking it, but they match the sky exactly, all the time. Poets write about sparkling eyes and pretty faces all the time, but all of them can choke because all of them are liars. Will Solace has the prettiest eyes of anyone who has ever lived. They are indeed the windows to the soul, and his soul is just —

“This is for you,” Nico blurts. Essentially acting on its own, his hand slips in his pocket and draws out the blue stone, holding it out. “Um. I saw it and —” He glances at Piper, panicked, and she kicks him in encouragement. “Thought of you. So.”

Will stares at the stone for a moment. Nico sweats.

“Nico di Angelo,” he chides, hands on his hips. The panicked look he flits in Piper’s direction grows tenfold. He is not at all comforted by the grimace she sends back. “Do you think I’m so corrupt as to accept a bribe?”

“Um.” Nico hesitates. Piper smacks her face onto her hands, groaning. “That’s not what I —”

“Well, you would be correct.” Quick as a bird, Will darts out and snatches the stone, sliding it into one of his many (many) shorts pockets, nodding in approval. “I don’t have any aventurine. I’ve been looking for it. Good bribe.”

He sets down the ointment and Tylenol, gesturing for Nico to hold out his hands. Nico sighs, then complies.

“I mean, he didn’t destroy it, this time,” Piper whispers as he begins to sing, enveloping Nico’s body in a warm, golden glow. “So…progress?”

“Progress,” Nico agrees. He glances over at Will, eyes squeezed shut in focus, and rolls his eyes fondly. “Who knew it would be so hard to convince someone who already likes me to go out with me.”

———

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homosexualbehaviors · 7 months ago

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Wednesday and Eugene headcanons?

Truthfully I haven't thought too much about that.

I figure you mean platonically? I refuse to even think about the possiblity of them being non-platonic, so I'm sticking with platonic haha.

As Wednesday said in the show Eugene reminds her of Pugsley. I feel like while that's true I don't think she has it in her to playfully harm Eugene the way she does with Pugsley. She knows he's a bit too soft for that.

We all know Eugene had/has a crush on Enid. While Wednesday was already straight forward and told him there's like no chance of him and E ever getting together, I think she might still feel a little bad when her and Enid get together. I feel like she'd make sure he found out of their relationship through herself or E not through gossip.

Wednesday still has tremendous guilt about Eugene getting attacked. To the point I could see her having a little heart attack everytime Euguene isn't where he is meant to be. (At least for the first couple weeks- maybe months- after the attack.)

Eugene is now canonically taller than Wedns. So is Pugsley. And Enid. And Bianca. And every. Body. Else. Poor girl is stuck surrounded by people taller than her. I think at some point it might hit her that everyone is taller than her and she might have a teeny tiny bit of a fit.

Eugene may also think now that he's taller he may have more of a chance with 'the ladies' (Enid). He does not. Enid is in love with a 5"1 goth girl :P

Again, thank you for your question, anon! I enjoyed answering! Please fear not to ask more folks🖤

#wednesday addams #eugene ottinger #wednesday netflix #enid sinclair #wenclair #wenclair brain rot #the addams family #wednesday x enid #enid and wednesday #wlw #gay ass mfs

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bubblegum-blackwood · 1 year ago

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The thing about Marius de Romanus is that I understand he’s an absolute asshole, there’s not a strong enough word for how much of a jerk he is, if he was a real human man I would stay as far the fuck away from him as possible because hell no, but because he’s not a real human man and instead is stuck safely inside the pages of books where he cannot hurt me . . . I love him. In a way, I understand all those people who loathe him with a burning passion, but also, I don’t understand how you could not enjoy his character! To those who hate Marius, I have two rebuttals: 1) A lot of the traits you probably don’t like in him also show up in Lestat and, to a lesser extent, even Louis sometimes, so why the double standard? All of these characters are bad people why do we have it out for Marius in particular? And 2) Have you considered that he may be awful but at least he’s interesting about it?

Marius such a fascinating character to think about, analyse, pick apart, what makes him tick, why does do what he does, how much of it his his culture, how much of it is childhood issues, how much of it is his traumatic and entirely nonconsensual entrance into the world of vampires, etc., the ways that he sucks, the ways that he’s also kind of a dork on top of it, and also - the way he plays off of the other figures in his narrative are all so fascinating! Akasha, Avicus, Mael, Pandora, Bianca, Armand, Eudoxia and Zenobia, Thorne, Daniel, Lestat, hell, even Raymond Gallant and Botticelli! These random guys everyone forgets about (or they don’t know about because they refuse to read Marius’s book just because it’s Marius’s)! It’s cool! The dynamics he has with all of these other characters are so rich, so full of interesting things to talk about - why would you discount that just because he’s kind of a jerk?

#vc #marius de romanus #blood and gold

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yoooitssalexx · 2 years ago

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Hey guys! This is part 2 to the imagine of Rockys!Daughter x Viktor Drago.

Mature chapter,contains smut.

_____

The next morning you woke up with a major headache after spending the night crying. You debated looking for a flight back to Philly and avoiding any and all drama. Deciding to just buck up and go to the fight you got out of bed and started your day. Ordering room service you hid out in your room the whole morning until it was time to get ready for the fight.

You walked out of the shower and found an envelope on the floor by the door,picking it up you found a VIP pass and ticket to tonights fight. You already had a seat with Bianca but this seat was front row right next to the ring, leaving you to wonder who would slide this under your door.

You dressed in a black one sleeve jumpsuit,pairing the simple out fit with your gold necklace that your mother had gifted you and a bracelet and hoops to match. You slid into your heels and made your way out,your eyes landing on Buddy,Viktor,and Ivan. You froze in your spot,watching the three men walk towards the elevator. You watched them get in,eyes locking with Viktor before the doors slid shut.

Taking a few minutes to collect yourself you ordered your Lyft to the arena,not expecting the large group of paparazzi outside of the hotel. They started shouting your name,every last one of them asking questions about you,Viktor,and your relationship.

You slid your shades on and pushed your way through the crowd to the car,holding back the tears that threatened to come out. Once you arrived at the arena the same fate awaited you,shoving your way inside you ignored the prying questions and rude comments.

You met up with Bianca,no words exchanged about anything that had gone on. You figured Adonis didn't know,familiar with his avoidance of social media before a fight. That didn't help appease the guilt you felt,feeling like you betrayed your brother in the worst way possible. Adonis may not have been blood but he was family,not forgetting the way the man helped you lift your father up from the pits of despair when he received his cancer diagnosis.

You twisted your rings nervously,stopping when Bianca reached over and grabbed your hands. It was hard for you to ignore the whispers around you,your knee bouncing nervously. You squeezed Bianca's hand,happy to have her support despite everything going on.

You looked up when you heard the booing start,your eyes falling on Ivan leading Viktor into the arena proudly. You watched the broad man walk confidently into the ring,not at all bothered by the booing in the crowd. Soon after Adonis' walk out music started,the lights darkening then flashing in patterns. Everyone cheered Adonis on,you and Bianca standing to clap for Adonis. You glanced at the tickets that had been slid under your door,noticing it would have put you on the other side of the ring. On Viktor's side.

The bell sounded,both men going straight at it. You watched as Adonis landed hit after hit on Viktor,soon Viktor landing a hit on Adonis which he blocked and still went back into the ropes. It was clear that Viktor put his strength into every punch. You watched Viktor back up as Adonis swung,recognizing the baiting tactic as the men moved around the ring. The bell rung as Viktor landed a right hand,the fight hard to watch after just starting.

You watched as Viktor and Ivan traded words,watching Viktor's face contort in anger and determination. Viktor continued to dominate the fight in the second round,you and Bianca on your feet as Adonis fell into the ropes. Adonis struggled to stand,making the count. Soon you watched as Viktor landed two hard right hands to Adonis' rib cage,hearing the rib crack from where you stood. Viktor yelled in triumph as Adonis fell to the ground and yelled in pain,you hoped Adonis would realize that Viktor held the upper hand and the fight would only get worse.

You watched Viktor come out swinging,the ref having to direct Viktor to his corner when Adonis landed a right hand. Duke crossed words with Adonis,soon throwing Bianca a look of defeat when the man refused to quit. Your eyes wandered to Ivan yelling something to Viktor,the man panting and his face contorted in rage as he walked to the center of the ring.

Viktor continued to hit Adonis with his all,landing another strong hit to his rib cage. You watched in horror as Adonis fell to his knees and Viktor swung again even after the ref called it. Your heart raced as you made your way to the ring,shoving people out of your way as you reached Adonis and began to look him over. You felt his broken ribs,the man not stirring at your touch.

"Call 911."You directed,feeling his faint pulse as you tried to awaken the man.

___

You were with Bianca as the doctor informed her of Adonis' condition,a nurse informing both of you of a visitor.

"Dad."You whispered,hugging him quickly.

He hugged Bianca after,whispering to her softly.

You watched from the door as Rocky spoke to Adonis,the young boxer becoming upset quickly. You knew Adonis' pride was strong,your heart breaking when his words clearly hurt your fathers feelings. You left with him,hugging Bianca as an apology.

You agreed to go with your father back to Philly,asking him to wait in the lobby as you packed your bags. You made sure to collect all of your belongings,walking out to find Viktor talking to Ivan in the hallway. He moved to follow after you as you pushed the button to the elevator only seeing Ivan hold him back when you turned as the elevator doors shut.

Your father tucked you into his chest as you walked out of the hotel,the reporters yelling questions at the two of you as you got into the car. The train ride to Philly allowed you time to sit in your thoughts,nothing becoming clear the more you thought about things.

_______

Time passed and you watched a fight Viktor was in,the interview that followed making you shiver. They talked about his loss which Viktor corrected as a disqualification,the Russian declaring a challenge to Adonis yet again. Max Kellerman asked him about his involvement with you,Viktor only answering by saying that there was nothing to tell and he was focused on his wins. You sighed as you turned the TV off,clearing up your coffee table.

Days later you had finished up your last shift of the week at the hospital,glad to be helping out in the ED as they were short staffed. You were a general surgeon,enjoying the days in the OR but there was something about the chaos in the ED helped you forget about the chaos of your own life. People had finally stopped asking about your involvement with Viktor,now resorting to whispering when they thought you couldn't hear.

You had various candles lit around your apartment,a glass of wine on your coffee table. You frowned at the multiple nail polish colors you had set out,your self care routine interrupted by a knock at your door.

"Coming!"You yelled,sighing as you wondered who could possibly be at your door at this time of night.

You shivered as you pulled the door open,gasping when you looked up to find the large man standing at your door. He waved,a shy look on his face.

"Viktor."You whispered,chewing on your lip nervously. "What are you doing here?"

"I need you."He said,hands in his pockets. "I have no one."

"What happened? Are you okay?"You neared him,looking him over quickly. You could tell he had something heavy weighing on his mind,feeling for the large man who was clearly torn.

"Can we talk?"He asked,smiling when you looked at him with concern.

"Yeah."You nodded,opening the door wider for the large man to step through. "Come in."

The large man made your small home feel even tinier,his eyes looking around the dark room that was mostly lit by the candles.

"I interrupt?"He asked,following you to your living room.

"No,just having a little self care night."You shrugged,turning to him.

"Self care?"He parroted,his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Yeah,helps me relax."You gestured to the masks you had used and the lotions you used for a self foot rub after you finished doing your nails.

He nodded,walking up to a picture on one of your shelves. It was a picture of you with your dad in the ring at Mickys gym,you were only about 4 when your mother took the picture of you "training" with your father.

"Very cute."Viktor pointed,turning to you with a smile.

You smiled back,offering him something to eat or drink to which he refused. You gestured for him to sit as you resumed your pondering over what color to choose. He sat next to you,the large man clearly tense.

"Whenever you're ready,I am listening. I just can't decide on a color."You looked at him from the corner of your eye,watching him remove his coat.

"I like."He pointed to a light pink you had on the table,nodding when you picked up the little polish.

"Then it's settled."You hummed,leaning against the arm of the sofa to begin painting your toes.

Viktor grabbed the bottle and pulled your foot into his lap,tilting his head as he focused on painting your nails. "I never tell anyone about this. But I trust you."

"Okay."you nodded,trying not to smile at the image of the large boxer painting your toes a pink color that he had chosen.

"After my father lose fight to your father,"He began,slowly moving the brush to ensure he painted your whole nail. "Things between him and Ludmilla were not very good."

"Ludmilla? Your mother?"You guessed,the name familiar in your household when discussing the aforementioned fight.

"Yes."He nodded,moving on to another nail when he deemed the last one perfect. "She leave him when kicked out of Russia,leaving both of us."

"I'm sorry."You frowned,watching him focus at the task he was currently doing.

He shrugged,continuing with the paint. "I don't see her in years,but few days ago we have dinner in Russia with some people. She is remarried,only appear now after so long."

"And how did you feel when you saw her?"You asked,allowing him to switch to your other foot.

"Angry."He said simply,dipping the small brush into the paint. "Angry,these people turn back to my father now after all this time. Now that I fight and earn my own way they want to be there,like leeches."

"And you're angry at her too."You pointed out,watching his lip raise.

"Yes."He said simply. "I don't know her,she is stranger to me. She abandon me."

"And your father."

He nodded,his pace a little faster now that he was more comfortable. "I hate to see him be with them,we don't need these people. Only there for convenience."

"I understand."You nodded. "Have you ever thought of telling her why you're angry at her?"

He paused,pondering your question as he examined his work. "What good will do?"

"There's a belief."You said simply,placing your feet flat on the floor. "Anger expressed,is anger extinguished."You grabbed the miniature looking nail polish from his large paws,placing it on the table. "You can't carry all of this anger with you forever,you should at least talk to your father. He should know how you feel,you care about his feelings and want to protect him from these people too."

"How I do?"he asked,watching you look at your newly painted toes.

"Very good."You smiled. "Want to become my nail tech?"you asked.

He smiled,playing with his fingers. "I never do that before."

"There's a first time for everything."You nodded,grabbing your wine glass. He watched you sip the wine,seemingly not able to look away from you. "Want to try some?"You asked,not sure if the disciplined fighter drank alcohol.

He nodded,taking the glass from your hand. His left hand cradled the back of your head and pulled your lips to his. You pulled away from the kiss,eyes shut at the feeling that ran through your body.

"Very good wine."He hummed,placing the glass on the coffee table.

You sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes,the Russian boxer pondering your words as you cleared the table and put things away. He watched you move about,enjoying the comfort he felt in your home. Something about the place actually feeling like a home and the warmth not only from the fire, his gaze soft when you shyly sat next to him again.

You rubbed the back of your neck,leaning away from the large man. He watched you silently,tucking your hair behind your ear. You leaned into his hand,the Russian pulling your legs into his lap.

"You finish your self care?"He asked,his thumb stroking your calf.

You cleared your throat and reached for your lotion,the large boxer taking it from your hands and silently beginning to rub your feet. You relaxed at the soothing of the tension of being on your feet for over 12 hours,Viktor silent as he thought over your last words.

"You think I should talk to her?"He asked,rubbing your feet gently.

"If not her,talk to Ivan. For you,you see people who turned their backs on your father over something that wasn't that detrimental. But to Ivan,this might feel like a chance to win back the things he lost."

He pondered your words for a few minutes,continuing his massaging of your feet and legs as he thought in silence. "That doesn't invalidate what you feel,Viktor. You're feelings aren't wrong."

"How you so smart?"He asked,his hands rubbing higher and higher on your legs.

You shrugged,allowing the large man to kneel between your legs. He rubbed his nose against yours,large hands gripping your thighs to pull your legs around his hips. "Why I feel this way for you?"

"What way?"You whispered,arms wrapping around his neck.

"Happy,trust,free."He whispered back,leaning down to kiss you again.

After a few minutes he sat back up,settling you on his lap. You pulled at his shirt,pulling away to pull the tight shirt off of his body. He leaned against the back of the couch and let you do as you wish,your hands landing on his pecs to steady yourself.

His sparkling eyes met yours,large hands gripping your hips tightly. He noticed your hesitation,thumbs rubbing your hip bones gently. "We can stop."He said softly,moaning when you pulled him into a passionate kiss.

"I don't want to stop."You whispered,pulling your shirt over your head. The Russian kissed your neck,hands sliding up your back and unclasping your bra.

"So beautiful."He whispered,tossing your bra to the side. The man reveled in your moans,burying his face straight into your chest. He paid equal attention to each of your breasts,his own hips thrusting up to meet the roll of your hips.

The large man stood and tightened your legs around his thick waist,following your directions to the bedroom. He laid you carefully on the bed,his eyes tracing your entire body. He pulled at your shorts and pulled them off in one tug,quickly hurrying to rid himself of his own shorts when you pulled at them.

The Russian started with methodical kisses at your neck,a slow path down your body makes whispers of his name fall from your lips in breathless moans. He kneeled on the floor,hitching your legs over his shoulders he placed a soft kiss on your wet pussy before diving right in.

He growled when you raised your hips,making note of what it was that pulled the biggest reaction out of you. He flattened his tongue,the thick appendage and the way the man used it to bring you to the edge of bliss. Your hands came to his head,pushing him closer at the feeling of your orgasm nearing.

His large hands gripped your thighs tightly,his tongue lapping at your wetness. He groaned when your nails scraped his scalp lightly,smirking when your moans got higher in pitch when he slid a thick finger inside of you and sucked on your clit.

"Viktor."You panted,legs tightening around his head. "Fuck I'm close."

He sucked on your clit gently,not stopping his onslaught of pleasure. He felt you tighten around his finger,his broad tongue swiping up and down sensually. He made sure to lick up every last drop of your cum,leaving you panting heavily when he pulled away.

"You okay,malyshka?"He leaned over you,licking his bearded lips and still tasting your sweetness.

"Mmhmm."You hummed,eyes shut in bliss.

The large man plopped next to you in all his naked glory,his hazel eyes just watching you lay in bliss. "So beautiful."he twirled a long strand of your hair around his finger.

You opened your eyes to see him already looking at you,a softness in his gaze. You pushed his chest softly,the large man falling onto his back as you wanted. He let you climb on top of him,watching you trail kisses down his sculpted chest. He moaned when he felt your tongue trace up his chest from the bottom of his abs.

Your small hand wrapped around his thick length,stroking him slowly. You kissed his neck softly,nipping at his skin gently. Mapping a trail of kisses down his sculpted chest to his hard length you watched him through hooded eyes as you placed a soft kiss on the head of his dick. His hips jolted,large hand buried into your dark locks when you licked the tip slowly.

"Please."He whimpered,his pleading look causing you to smirk.

"You look so pretty when you beg."You teased,stroking his thick length slowly. "Do it again."

"Please,I need you."He begged again,a soft pout on his lips.

The confidence that you exuded at that moment made his head spin,the man feeling breathless at the feeling of you touching him. If he thought you were beautiful and sexy before, the way you took control now made him see it even more.

You gave in to the man's pretty pleas,slowly taking his thick length into your mouth. His low moan when you swirled your tongue around the head of his dick was the sexiest sound you ever heard,your hand working what you couldn't fit in your mouth.

His grip on your hair tightened slightly,the man using his grip to guide your mouth up and down the way he wanted. When you started to take more of his length into his mouth and suck harder he growled,toes curling when he felt he was close to his orgasm.

"Malyshka."He whined,growling when you fondled his heavy balls and almost made him cum right there. He used his grip on your hair to gently pull your mouth off his length,his large hands cradling your face gently. "I need to feel you."

He helped you climb on top of him,his hands resting on your hips as you reached over him to grab something from your drawer. His eyes fell on the condom packet you held up,a coy smile on your pretty lips.

"Make me yours."You whispered,leaning down to bite his lip gently.

The large man flipped you over,growling into the kiss when your nails dug into his biceps. You were too lost in the feeling of his tongue delving into your mouth to notice him put the condom on,your eyes opening when you felt his tip at your warm entrance.

"So tight,malyshka."He groaned into your mouth,slowly inching his thick girth in.

He pulled away from your lips to press his forehead against yours,eyes shut tight in concentration. Your nails dug into his broad back,legs tightening around his hips when he bottomed out. The pleasure of being filled outweighed the burn of the stretch,it had been so long since you'd been with someone and even longer since someone made you feel this good.

"Viktor."You whined,nails scratching red fiery lines down his muscular back. "Please."

"Please what."He teased,nipping your bottom lip gently. He smirked when your answer died right on the tip of your tongue,a deep moan coming out when he slid out of your tight entrance and slowly slid back in.

The large man built a slow and sensual pace,gradually speeding up when your moans slowly grew louder. He loved the way your moans grew louder when he picked up speed, his hand squeezed your thigh and raised your leg higher on his hip. You moaned when his hand slid up your body,large hand coming to lightly squeeze your neck.

He watched your eyes flutter shut,watching your teeth bite your bottom lip in pure pleasure. He loved the way you trusted him with your pleasure,his hand applying the pressure you craved so perfectly.

You could barely focus on the words he whispered as he continued his deep sensual thrusts,his pace slowing drastically to slowly roll his hips into yours. His thumb traced your bottom lip softly,a low groan leaving the man when you gently sucked on his thumb.

"My little minx."He smirked,wet thumb stroking your lips softly and smearing your spit across them. "You drive me crazy."

He trailed his lips against your jawline and down your neck,the roughness of his beard brushing against your soft skin making you burn deliciously. With your arms and legs secured tightly around the large man you rolled the two of you over so you straddled him,left hand cupping his cheek.

"More."You whispered,pulling him forward to taste his lips once more. You rolled your hips in a sensual rhythm,biting his lip gently when he gripped your hips to help guide your movements.

He sat up,large hands splayed out on your back. You leaned your forehead against his,nails digging into his strong back. You noticed him controlling his moans,not appreciating the way he tried to avoid making any sounds.

"I wanna hear you."You whispered,tilting his head back to look him in the eye. Your tongue traced his lips,smirking when a deep moan left the large man.

With each movement you felt the bliss of orgasm closer and closer. His moans and yours blended into one beautiful melody,tongues meeting in an infernal dance. You were too lost in the pleasure you were being given to even hear the ringing phone,Viktor ignoring the familiar ring of his phone to focus his attention solely on you.

You felt Viktor's hands everywhere a burning trail of heat following wherever he touched. The large russian planted his feet on the bed,large hands moving to hold your hips in a tight controlling grip. His low growl when he felt you tighten around him made you tremble,your orgasm impending.

"Cum with me."You pulled him closer,chests touching but not feeling close enough to the large man. "Together."

He growled,pulling you impossibly closer. He rolled the two of you over,your head landing on your pillow. Viktor grabbed your knee tightly,the large man bending your leg forward so your knee touched your chest. Your nails dug into his broad back,his thrusts hitting just the right spot every time without fault.

You both came together,a low growl of your name falling from Viktor's perfect lips. You could've cum just from that sound alone,your hands cupping his face to make him look you in the eyes. His hazel eyes met yours,the man swallowing your moan when he planted his lips on yours.

You held onto him tightly,enjoying the warmth that came from his body. He leaned his arms next to your head,his nose nudging yours gently. You smiled softly at him, thumbs stroking his cheeks softly.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"He whispered, beginning to pull away when he felt he was leaning his weight on you too much. You tightened your legs around his waist, keeping him right where he was.

"I'm okay,everything's perfect."You pecked his lips quickly,watching his cheeks tinge pink.

"It is."He nodded, pulling you closer before rolling onto his back with you on top of him. You rest your chin on his chest,watching him quietly.

He ran his fingers through your hair, turning to look at you when he felt your eyes on him. He smiled when your eyes met,the man looking very much at ease.

"You look more relaxed."You observed, fingers tracing indiscernible shapes on his chest.

"It's not only because of this."He slid his hand down your side,rubbing your side gently.

"Then what is it?"You asked.

"It's you."He pulled your leg over his, squeezing your knee softly. He leaned down to kiss you,a laugh interrupting the kiss when his stomach growled.

"Hungry?"You sat up,reaching for the clothes the two of you left on the floor. You slid your panties on followed by his shirt,tossing him his boxers after. He laughed and slid them on, sitting on the edge of your bed. You stepped between his legs,hands cradling his face while his gripped your hips. "Come on."You kissed him quickly, turning and walking out of your bedroom.

The giant man followed after you, the sight of him leaning down when he crossed your door making you giggle. He smiled at the sound of you laughing,grabbing the bottom of his shirt and pulling lightly. "What's so funny?"He questioned, your hands landing on his pecs.

"You're so big."You said simply, biting your lip.

"I thought you like that?"He cupped your ass boldly, squeezing the supple flesh.

"I love it."You whispered seductively,biting his lip gently before pulling away and walking towards your kitchen. You looked through your fridge, only finding the steak you had pulled for tomorrow's dinner.

The Russian boxer sat at your table after insisting you didn't have to make him anything and you waving him off, watching you cook wearing his shirt only. You served the steak with some asparagus and potatoes,enjoying his surprised look.

"Smells delicious."He said as you sat across from him and poured two glasses of wine. He cut into the steak, moaning at the taste when he took the first bite. You watched him eat, enjoying the relaxed and comfortable vibe between the two of you.

He offered you bites of the food, the two of you sitting in a comfortable silence as he finished the meal. You picked up the plate when he finished, ignoring his insistence on cleaning up. You washed the plate quickly, leaning into him when he pressed against your backside.

His hands slid up your thighs,pushing his shirt up as he appreciated your soft skin. Your eyes fell shut when he moved your hair over to your right shoulder and his lips planted kisses on your neck.

"Still hungry?"You smirked, pressing your ass into him.

"For you? Always."He answered. He spun you around,wrapping your legs around his waist as he planted you on the counter.

You moaned when his tongue delved into your mouth,his grip tight as he pulled you as close as possible. Your hands slid up his strong arms,sliding up his shoulders,then to his neck. You sighed in bliss when he pulled away and kissed his way down your neck,choosing a spot to lightly suck. Your nails lightly scraped his scalp when he moved to a sensitive spot on your neck,groaning when you heard a phone ring again.

He groaned in annoyance when he recognized the sound of his phone,already imagining who it was. He slid the bottom of his shirt up slowly,long fingers sliding against your smooth skin.

"You should answer it."You whispered,index finger tracing down the chiseled lines of his chest.

"No."He pouted,kissing your fingertip as it traced his lips.

"Go."You nodded towards the loud ringing,pushing him lightly. You hopped off the counter when he gave in,watching him walk towards his phone.

You made your way to your couch,plopping down as he walked back with the miniature looking device in his large hands. "Everything okay?"You asked,pulling your knees to your chest as he sat down next to you. The large man took up so much space,essentially dwarfing everything that he held or sat on.

"My father."He shrugged,placing the phone on the coffee table.

"He doesn't know you're here,does he?"You sat up,nervously chewing on your lip as you thought back to the last conversation you had with the father of the man who currently sat on your couch.

"No."Viktor answered,watching you curiously. "What's wrong?"

You looked away from his intense gaze,not wanting to discuss the conversation in which his father told you you were no good for Viktor and that you should stay away from him.

"Tell me."Viktor pulled you close,index finger under your chin forcing you to look up at him.

"He won't like that you're here,with me."You whispered the last two words,his eyes staring back into yours pulling the words from you. "He told me to stay away from you,that I'm no good for you."

Viktor felt his blood boil,the thought of his father yelling at you and screaming how you're no good for him making him angrier by the minute. He pulled you into his lap,the large man dwarfing you as he cradled you into his chest. You placed your hand on his chest right over his heart,meeting his intense and passionate gaze that made your own heart race.

"He was wrong."He said simply, his simple three words making you melt into his touch. "I wish I didn't have to go back."He sighed, dreading what he would find when he returned home.

"You need to buy a plane ticket."You moved to grab your laptop, helping him secure a early flight out before deciding it was time to go to bed.

"So is it safe to say that you will stay the night?"You said softly, hand sliding down his chest and then grabbing his large hand.

"Do you want me to?"He asked, smiling when you played with his fingers.

You nodded shyly, meeting his intense gaze. He enjoyed the way you were suddenly shy around him, nothing at all like the confident seductress he saw earlier in your bedroom. "Stay."You whispered,holding his hand tightly.

"Of course."He assured,allowing you to stand and pull him up and after you to your bathroom. He accepted the new toothbrush you offered him,watching you perform your night routine for bed and reveling in the mundane action of getting ready for bed was simple yet he enjoyed it so much.

You enjoyed the way the large man took up almost the entirety of your mattress,climbing in after him and pressing your smaller frame right against him. He hitched your leg over his,arms wrapping around you when you laid your head right over his heart. You heard the steady beat of his heart,the sound making you smile.

"You're so warm."You hummed,cuddling into him more. He ran his fingers through your hair,eyes shutting when you let out a sigh of relief.

"I have never done this before."He said softly,eyes shutting when you rubbed his chest softly. You smiled at his words, fingers pinching his chin and turning him to face you.

"Good."You said plainly, kissing him briefly.

"Good?"He asked, brows furrowing.

"Yes,I don't want you to do things like this with anyone else. Only me."You smirked, laying your head back on his chest.

"I don't want to do things like this with anyone else."His thumb rubbed your cheek, hugging you closer. "Only you."

Your hand resumed rubbing his strong chest,wandering to his tense and hard shoulders. He groaned when you rubbed and kneaded the tense muscles.

"You gave me a massage."You hummed,straddling the broad man. You smiled at him when his hands grabbed your thighs,thumbs rubbing the smooth flesh. "Only fair I return the favor."You leaned over and grabbed a lotion,waving it coyly.

"You can do whatever you want to with me,"He grinned,enjoying the thought of your hands on his body. "I'm all yours."

You froze at his words,heart rate picking up tenfold. "You mean that?"

"I do."he affirmed.

You bent down to kiss him,his hands sliding up to cup your supple ass. You moaned into the kiss at the feeling of him softly kneading your firm rear,the boxer taking advantage to slide his tongue past your spread lips.

You pulled away panting,labored breaths mixing with his. "Roll over."You climbed off of him,watching him comply with no hesitation.

Climbing the large man once again you put some lotion on your hands and got to work,kneading the man's tense and strong muscles. He groaned under your small hands loosening his tense muscles,a shiver traveling down his spine when your hands slid down his broad back.

You sat on his firm butt,hands working on his lower back. His low moans when you continued massaging his back made you flashback to the earlier moments the two of you shared right there in your bed. You cleared your throat and focused at the task at hand,moving back up to massage his arms.

Little by little he relaxed further and further,your hands moving to massage his strong arms. After a while you rubbed his tense neck,feeling the large man become more pliant with each pass of your hand. You heard his soft snores a while later,leaning over to find the boxer sound asleep.

You smiled,kissing his cheek softly before moving over to your spot in the bed. You laid your head on your pillow,back facing Viktor as your eyes shut at the peacefulness that fell over the two of you. Your eyes opened when you felt him roll over and wrap his arm around you. Viktor pulled you closer,face buried in the crook of your neck as he pressed closer against your back. You smiled and shut your eyes,quickly falling asleep in the warmth of his embrace.

________

The next morning you slid some sweatpants on,keeping Viktor's t shirt on as he instructed. You watched him slide his hoodie and coat on,you mirroring the man's actions. You drove through the cold Philly streets,sighing when you finally arrived at the airport.

You walked in with him,fingers wringing at the thought of not seeing him again. He grabbed your smaller hands,pulling you close to him. It's like he knew exactly what ran through your mind,the same fears plaguing his thoughts.

"I want you to call me,everyday if you want."He said softly,hands cupping your face.

"I don't have your number."Your brows furrowed,words dying on the tip of your tongue when he pulled you into a passionate kiss.

"Of course you do."He smirked,leaning his forehead against yours. "I will see you soon. No goodbyes."

"No goodbyes."You affirmed,pulling him in for one last kiss.

"You call."He repeated.

"Everyday."You nodded,smiling at him softly when he turned and walked towards his terminal.

Your shoulders slumped watching him walk further and further away,wanting nothing more than for him to turn back and decide to just stay with you. A sliver of hope rose in your chest when he turned,part of you expecting him to walk right back towards you and tell you to go back to your home with him.

He waved before continuing on,you watching him until you couldn't see him anymore. You turned and made your way to your car,fighting the urge to cry the whole ride home. You successfully made it to your home without crying,stripping down to just the t shirt of his you wore before crawling into bed.

You scrolled through your phone finding the new contact you had no idea how it got into your phone.

Viktor.

_____

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