#but i actually want to have a coherent scene so i need to hammer out the end of the scene before i post it so here's this instead

[kaisollisto]

Hello remember when i wrote that avalil smut roughly a year ago?

It takes Lilith by surprise but she watches vehemently as Ava desperately sucks her spit covered hand in hopes to catch a taste. It feels intimate, like Ava is seeing her, choosing her all over again.

Ava’s tongue tickles her hand and she resists the urge to curl her fingers deep inside. She watches, content as Ava finishes and presses kisses to each finger. Her lips quirk before she pulls Ava in for a kiss sitting up. It’s tender with Ava’s lips mouthing slowly against hers. Her lips are soft and Lilith has to reel in the urge to bite down hard. 

Ava’s teeth scrape against hers as if reading her mind and Lilith growls, lips peeling back to bite. Her teeth prick against Ava’s bottom lip in warning before she swipes her tongue over it. Ava presses into her mouth desperately and Lilith answers just as passionately. Puffs of air linger between her teeth and Lilith cannot resist any longer. Lilith knows Ava can feel her hunger, urging her to break skin. Lilith can feel it in the way Ava presses into her hard, desperate to feel her. She slides her hands up Ava’s neck, rubbing in warning before grabbing a handful of her hair. Lilith yanks her head back exposing her neck and she bares her teeth. Ava moans stilling as Lilith holds her suspended, throat swallowing in anticipation.

Lilith admires her neck, the veins thumping wildly. She’s so pretty, Lilith pauses starstruck. Ava with her pale chest begging to be bruised. Ava with her heaving breaths, vulnerable and open and trembling. Lilith presses her lips against her collar bones feeling Ava’s shudder. 

[dexadin]

Do you have any fun stories from your Strahd game? Moments you were proud of? You always have such good advice, and you deserve a chance to brag! Your players are lucky to have such a fun GM. 💗

Hi there! I've been sitting on this ask because it gives me serotonin every time I see it but I finally have a story line that I'm really fucking proud of that I want to talk about :3

So back during the Vallaki arc, Strahd attacked Father Lucian at the stairs of St. Andral, and the only reason that Lucian survived was party intervention (the infamous Vanya crycatting at Strahd scene). However, much to the party's chagrin, Strahd's magic shattered the stained glass windows of the church of St. Andral. The party also lost the favor of Father Lucian because of it, which was devastating to them, as Father Lucian was their first NPC who was truly good to them.

Backstory aside, they have finally gotten to the part of the story where they actually start hunting for the items prophesied in their tarokka reading at the beginning of the campaign and are seeking the sunsword in the 'wagon of someone who is not who they seem.' This quest leads the party (and Rictavio, who is travelling with them) to Vallaki once more in the pursuit of Blinsky, about a year and a half of real-world time down the line. They go to his wagon and get to hear their favorite NPC delighted to see them , and they ask him if he has a sword in his wagon. Blinsky goes, "oh this one?" and everyone goes, "no fucking way." Blinsky pulls out a toy wooden sword with an odd hollow cutout of the blade and everyone hesitantly exhales. Blinsky lets them know that it was commissioned by Father Lucian as a prototype for a project he's working on.

The party then goes to Father Lucian and finds him working in a forge, hammering out a ribbon of foil on his anvil. They learn that he has found a record of a sword that was wielded by a beloved priest, written by Andral himself. The hilt was encrusted in stones and plated in metal that wasn't easily found in Barovia, and so Lucian had only been able to work on the blade. Vanya notes that Rictavio is looking intently at the drawing of the hilt, and sends him a message, to which he responds that he needs Vanya to meet him outside. The party splits, as Vanya and Threnody go outside with Rictavio, Wofl stays in with Lucian, and Corsair goes off to distract the other NPCs.

Outside, Rictavio reveals himself to be Van Richten, swearing Vanya and Threnody to secrecy before going through his wagon full of random treasures to find no other than the sword in question--missing its blade.

Inside, Father Lucian reveals the work-in-progress to Wofl, revealing a stunning silvered blade with an inlay of leaded stained glass, made of the remains of the shattered glass windows of the church.

All in one go, I got to connect the Sunsword to several significant NPCs, reveal Van Richten, give a satisfying conclusion to the church of St. Andral (which had left my players distraught), and provide new speculation about Sergei, all wrapped up in one of the coolest weapons I've ever designed. The players were as hype about it as I was, and I'm just really fucking thrilled about how it all played out.

I hope this was at all coherent and/or fun to read! It was really fun to plan and play.

[elfsone]

So finally have some coherent thoughts about *that* vp scene. First off, this scene was a logical way forward into the story. You go undercover in a mafia household and steal information; you are certainly going to be tortured and/or killed. Doesn’t make it right or palatable, but this is how the underworld functions. You might hate it, but this is what had to happen- even pete and kinn knew it.

Now normally the punishment would be doled out in the way kan dealt with ken or big was trying to deal the mole in ep 7. The person would be hit hard, they would whine and beg for forgiveness and then probably be killed. Nothing personal, just doing what needs to be done and move on.

But the catch here is that vegas is not normal and apparently neither is pete. we have our resident mafia menace who loves to torture people. It is not just work for him as he gains personal satisfaction out of toying with people. Normally khun vegas is used to people cowering in fear when they see him and then groveling at his feet. Vegas started with his “I am the crazy bad guy” spiel with his soft voice and toying with the hammer and stuff to scare the victim. But here comes mr. pete who stared straight into his eyes and started laughing, actually goddamn laughing in his face with absolute zero fear in his eyes! This made an already angry vegas, even more furious and that is why he brought out his jumper cables instead of the usual torture briefcase. (like the audacity of this bitch to break into my home and laugh at me)! He gave the initial jolts expecting pete to fall and cry and beg but that didn’t happen. Instead pete is still smiling (oh you’re still smiling) and we can see vegas being shocked so when he asked “one more time” there is a layer of intrigue alongside the usual hatred. So I believe that there was definitely nothing sexual here, no s&m etc etc yet. There was just fascination- seeing each other for the first time in a completely raw state, all pretenses off (Bible and build’s microexpressions damn!! Get them an oscar already!!). Their chemistry in this scene though! Absolutely sizzling pun intended! Add to it some beautiful cinematography! This has made me really invested in the vp story now.

I think Pete here was playing the part of an action hero/ superhero- the i don’t fear death guy, do what you want i won’t speak guy, laughing in villain’s face guy; we all know the trope (bond/ die hard etc). Pete was laughing in a fuck you kind of way. I entered the home of this psychopath and successfully one upped him. He enjoyed seeing how fazed vegas was and how angry he was because of losing everything! (Are these masochistic tendencies? Not sure). 

Another important point about this scene, I was initially really surprised to see that the writers made pete’s capture very uneventful. Ken idly snuck up on him (pete for the nth time my god!), pete’s not surprised at all and the in the next scene he is tied up in front of vegas. It initially felt very choppy to me but i think the writers wanted to tell the audience that this was supposed to happen. In the novel (v mild spoilers), pete fought back really hard. I think they didn’t show that to emphasize that pete knew this was a suicide mission and he probably had no plans of coming back. There is no suspense, no ominous music because there is no cat and mouse chase and grand fights. He is caught and that’s that. What did y’all think about this choice? Liked it?

I was initially a vegas fan (bible being hot helped :P). Didn't really care about the couple. I always love the crazy menaces in any show more than the main hero, suave and flashy villains with lots of layers ala loki (what does that say about me, i don't wanna know😶). But after the temple scene their dynamic has become so interesting for me... safe to say I am now obsessed!!

My god this is so fking long! If you have read till here, we are best friends now 🤭 

[pearlcaddy]

Jukebox Appreciation Week WIP: WIP Wednesday

This WIP is from a fic that I may write for AU Day!

A few months ago, I was whining in the tags of a Sex Education gifset about how I wanted to write a Jukebox Sex Ed AU but couldn’t figure out how to make it make sense. Cue @insomnicalwhimsiac​, who immediately and brilliantly suggested the perfect JatP twist. So here’s a snippet from a Sex Ed AU that mostly won’t follow the plot of the show and replaces all the sex education stuff with Luke writing songs for his classmates.

Below the cut cause it got a wee bit long:

Doing his classmate’s assignments is normally fine, because Luke gets money and they get their homework, and then he pretends to forget. Out of sight, out of mind. But this time, he has to sit through a whole performance. A literal front row seat to his work getting ripped apart and distorted and misinterpreted… all with someone else’s name attached.

When assembly’s over, he practically sprints to his locker and wrenches open the door, his whole body buzzing with a rage he doesn’t feel entitled to. He sold the song. He sold the right to be mad about this. But he really wasn’t expecting to have this strong of a reaction. Wasn’t expecting to need to bury his… tears? fury? inside his locker. Wasn’t expecting anger and pain and jealousy to twist up his gut so tightly that he’s shaking and nauseated, holding himself up only by clutching the thin locker door.

But of all the things he wasn’t expecting, the one that comes most out of the blue is Julie Freaking Molina leaning against the locker next to him and blurting out, “I really liked your comp song.”

Which makes no sense, cause as far as anyone knows, he didn’t write a song for the competition. “I didn’t submit a song.”

Her eyes meet his and, for a moment, it’s like he’s being pulled into a warm hug of sympathy. A hug he didn’t know he needed. Leaning in closer, she offers him a tight, knowing smile. “Yes, you did.”

… he’s gotta be misinterpreting this. How the hell could she know?? Reggie and Alex only know because they were with him when he was working on it, and he’s barely ever spoken to Julie. How would she—? But then she adds, voice and gaze unwavering, “‘Electric hammer to the heart?’ The whole thing was very ‘I think 90s garage rock is still relevant.’”

“It’s hella relevant,” he shoots back on autopilot. But holy shit, she’s actually called him on it. “…how’d you know it was mine?”

“Well, Bobby is a performer, not a writer. He doesn’t really do coherent lyrics.” It’s the first time he’s ever heard her land a good burn, and he chuckles in spite of himself. “And you’re the only one in this school who would write a guitar part like the one he was attempting to play.”

Finally abandoning the pretense that he’s not super invested in this conversation, Luke closes his locker and slings his backpack over his shoulder. “How’s that?”

“Cause you’re the only one who could actually play it.”

This snippet based on the locker scene from season 1, episode 6 because it owns my heart and it is peak romance, and Jukebox deserves that. The rest of the AU will probably be less directly Sex Ed AU-y, and more just based on Maeve and Otis’s vibes in season one.

[nonasuch]

how I would fix star wars

inevitably, I have been thinking about How I Would Fix Star Wars, and make the parts of TRoS that displeased me into a more coherent story. 

unfortunately, to do so will require the use of a time machine and veto power over the Lucasfilm Story Group. but IF I had those things here is what I would do:

I actually would not make a lot of changes to TFA. The main ones would be:

toning down Starkiller a bit as a threat, to a one-shot-per-planet deal but with a faster recharge time

slightly more stormtrooper stuff -- establish what Finn’s leaving behind and give Phasma a little depth. 

if possible, put some kind of distinguishing visual marker on the trooper who marked Finn’s helmet.

a small background detail that isn't important yet: after the village massacre at the beginning, show stormtroopers collecting the bodies, trooper and villager alike. if possible, do this after every scene with a significant body count, throughout all three movies.

either give the knights of ren some actual stuff to do or cut them out entirely

show kyle chafing at snoke’s leash, maybe demanding to know more about some of snoke’s various Secret Projects, and being dismissed

give rey a little time to settle in with the Resistance before leaving to find Luke. we don't have to show it much, just make it clear that she’s making a home there and has bonded strongly with Leia

clean up some weird pacing and make the travel times/distances between planets more consistent

honestly other than that I wouldn't change much. I genuinely like TFA a lot and its strength is in how well it establishes the new characters.

for TLJ, some bigger changes but the bones of it I'd leave alone:

make it more clear why the tracking through hyperspace is a big deal and make the solution less of a fetch quest

I really like parts of the Canto Bight plot but I would probably swap it out for something with more stormtroopers in it -- let Finn interact with other troopers and remind us that there are individuals under those helmets

(a recurring joke: Finn can always tell troopers apart when they’re in uniform, and Rose can never figure out how. he thinks it’s because he was a trooper, but no, it's because he’s Force sensitive)

maybe get close to convincing some of them to desert, but either they fail last-minute or the deserters get caught and killed

Finn and Rose escape by the skin of their teeth thanks to a trooper who helps them, letting them know that even if they aren't brave enough to leave, there are plenty of troopers who aren't all-in with the First Order

again, after any major fight show the body cleanup. troopers carrying and stacking the dead in neat rows. start hinting that there is something more ominous here than fanatical tidiness

the Snoke stuff -- make it more obvious that Snoke is orchestrating stuff other than just running the First Order. maybe have Hux ask about the cargo ships they're sending to the Unknown Regions, and get shot down

make part of Kyle’s refusal to leave w Rey due to his burning need to Know All The Secrets, and conviction that as Supreme Leader he could really clean up the joint

once Snoke is dead, show Kyle getting access to his secret files/vaults; do NOT show what he finds there

I'd also want to clean up some wonky pacing and timeline/travel distance stuff, probably, but again I really like most of the movie so it’s nothing major

also keep Phasma around for the next movie! what the fuck, she rules, why would you not

okay so that brings us to TRoS, which… would need a pretty major overhaul. 

First of all, we are working under the assumption that I have a time machine, so I made Carrie Fisher go to the cardiologist on the reg starting on day 1 of TFA rehearsals, and she’s fine and able to play the part as she was meant to.

with that in place, here’s how I would restructure:

we keep the Hammer Horror opening scene, but tweak the Emperor’s reveal. he’s much more corpse-y, without the tech umbilical keeping him alive -- a wraith animated by Dark power. 

lots of grandiose claims about his unstoppable army and his impending dominion over the galaxy, ultimate triumph over the Light, etc

don't show the armada yet -- just kyle’s reaction, which is genuine fear.

news of the Emperor’s return isn't a broadcast, but a whisper. a transmission from a terrified First Order cargo pilot, who’s learned the truth about his one-way trip to the Unknown Regions. passed through the lower ranks by rumor and hearsay. eventually leaked to the Resistance by an unknown First Order source

I like the idea from the beginning of the movie, that Rey’s trying to speak to dead Jedi through the Force. but it’s not working, and she shares her frustration with Leia

make it clear that she and Leia have a deep, strong bond.

give Rey a Jedi artifact to hunt for. maybe there’s a place or a thing that she thinks will let her commune with fallen Jedi, and that’s what they go looking for.

that lets us keep some of the fetch quest, but the First Order’s not as actively on their tail. 

they keep crossing paths anyway, and every time there are troopers doing something worse. maybe at one point they see troopers refuse to massacre civilians, and being killed themselves instead.

also they take Rose with them, because this movie needs more Rose

still have those post-battle scenes of body cleanup. now the cleanup crews are being killed once they’re done

this could be a good use for the Knights of Ren, actually. whatever is happening, they're part of it

Leia is more active throughout: she's on the move, recruiting allies for the Resistance, trying to figure out what's happening in the Unknown Regions

she has an actual scene with Lando, and he goes to Rey on her orders

tweak Poe’s backstory with Zorii. he worked with her while undercover for the Resistance, and left them in the lurch when the General needed him back. 

he’d have recruited her, if there had been time, but now he's glad he didn't: most everyone Poe recruited to the Resistance died at Crait.

when Rey crosses paths with Kyle, he’s obviously rattled. he Knows Something that he won't or can't tell her and he's even more fatalistic than usual.

lean harder on the unease/whispers of dissent in the First Order as they're told to do more and more awful things. maybe a scene where someone -- not Hux -- disagrees openly, and Kyle says something that implies that he's getting orders from someone above his head.

this gives Hux a chance to snark at Kyle -- isn't he supposed to be the Supreme Leader, now? who's telling him what to do?

off Kyle’s reaction -- someone is telling him what to do, and he's terrified of them in a way he never was of Snoke.

(keep Hux-as-informant, that was done perfectly)

Rey’s artifact hunt still takes her to the Death Star wreckage, off rumors that Palpatine hoarded Jedi artifacts. 

we meet Janna &co. Finn is so relieved and happy to meet other troopers who survived defecting. Janna tells him that there used to be more, that it used to be easier to get out, but more and more troopers have been killed in the attempt, without escaping.

by now it’s clear: there is Something Wrong With The First Order, beyond the obvious.

Rey fights Kyle in the Death Star ruins. Kyle tells her the Emperor wants to turn her to the Dark Side, that he can’t be refused or stopped, that even death won’t let her escape from him.

the fight plays out similarly, but Leia’s distraction doesn't kill her. 

after Rey heals him, Kyle faces his fear and talks to Leia via Force bond. He tells her what the Emperor is planning, and it’s Ben Solo who leaves the ruins.

he can give Leia files or some other concrete proof via the same trick he uses with Rey in the movie, because that’s honestly very cool and it was used really well, so we’re keeping that

when Rey talks to Luke on Ach-To, he tells her that Palpatine used the Empire to sow chaos and fear, because that made the Dark Side stronger and gave him more power to tap into.

Luke says: “I think he would have been happy to burn the whole galaxy down, as long as he could rule over the ashes.”

Rey realizes she can’t hide from the Emperor, and knows he’ll never turn her to the Dark. she goes after him.

Leia sends the Resistance to back Rey up and sets out to rally the galaxy with Lando and Chewie

finally, it’s confrontation time! Rey faces Zombie Palpatine, and he reveals his plan in all its glory:

he’s built an army of the dead. ghost ships, crewed by all those bodies we've been watching the First Order collect for three movies.

some of them we recognize, if we’re paying attention: the trooper who marked Finn’s helmet, Lor San Tekka, Hux. there are long-dead clone troopers, little more than skeletons in filthy white armor. half-functional Separatist droids. Resistance fighters and First Order officers killed on Crait. countless civilians. 

they’re all dead, all animated by Palaptine’s Dark Side powers, fueled by the strife and chaos he continues to sow throughout the galaxy

he doesn’t want to blow up any more planets. he wants to kill the shit out of absolutely everyone: the end of all life, and all Light. everyone in the galaxy a soldier in his undead army

he wants Rey to strike him down and become the new Sith Empress, ruling over an empire of ashes.

but we are discarding the granddaughter shit, because frankly it is not necessary and makes no sense. 

he can just be like ‘ah yes, a feral desert child, powerful in the Force, with no inconvenient ties to hold her back. I've had good luck with those, mostly.’

now, a brief side trip: what is the First Order doing, in the midst of all this?

well, the rank and file are actually not super down with the ‘join the glorious army of the dead’ plan. half of them are in open revolt; some try to run, some seize control of their ships and decide to fight for the living

Phasma leads Team Living. yeah, I kept her for a reason! Gwendoline Christie is great at this!

Ben shows up as before, fights the Knights, does the cool lightsaber trick with Rey. he fights with Leia’s saber.

when Palpatine drains their life force to restore himself, though, something happens differently:

it’s actually Leia’s life force. she gives up her life for her son and for the daughter of her heart, willingly and gladly, knowing she has rallied the galaxy to their aid. she tells them, before she goes, that help is on the way

the giant fleet that arrives to fight Palpatine has First Order ships in it. finally, everyone is on the same side. Palpatine has been playing both sides against each other since Episode 1, but it won't work anymore, now that they know what he wants. the long con is over. they're united against him.

Rey beats Palpatine the same way, Ben revives her the same way, but Leia’s sacrifice means he has enough juice left to survive it. 

idk about the kiss; I am Reylo-agnostic

but he’s going to try to shepherd the First Order into something that builds and protects, instead of destroying. 

people like Janna and Finn, who got out, and Rose, who lived under their heel, will show him how.

Finn is Force sensitive, and so are some of the other former troopers. 

some of them want to become Jedi

Finn wants to follow Leia’s path: do the training so he understands how to use the Force, but he's not meant to be a Jedi. he's going to be a leader -- not a general, hopefully, but a leader for peacetime.

so like. they won! hooray.

Rey takes the name Skywalker, still. Ben is fine with this: he’s a Solo-Organa. 

there can be a touching Force ghost reconciliation, or not, whatever

so. that is how to fix star wars. you’re welcome. if anyone out there has a time machine and an in with Lucasfilm, hit me up I guess?

[theklient]

yangyang smut with edging or pegging pwease òwó

Hey Demon, it’s ya girl :) dude this was kinda fun to write but I’m still a bit rusty and I tried to make a unique plot for the smut so hopefully you enjoy it too, also y'all have a cat :)

Stuck

“Y/n, I can’t make this shit up.” Ten cackled loudly throughthe phone.

“No, Ten you have to be joking! I don’t know if I’ll even beable to help him because I might be dying on the floor.” You said as you tookthe keys out of your car. You exited the vehicle then reached behind to retrieveyour purse.

Ten continued to chatter on the phone as you speed-walkedthrough the parking lot of your apartment complex.

You had knocked a few times on your door checking to see ifYang Yang would come open it for you. He didn’t, so you resorted to using yourown keys.

“Yang Yang,” you called from the door once you had made itinside. When you didn’t hear a reply from you usually loud and cheerfulboyfriend, a smile grew on your face. You quickly disrobed yourself of your outerwearand shoes, throwing your purse onto the couch.

‘So, it was true,’you thought giggling to yourself as wandered through the apartment.

You took your time as you strode, your eyes noticing smallthings like how there was a now cold cup of tea on the kitchen counter with aphone lying right next to it. The washing machine was blinking indicating that itwas now done. As you turned the corner, low and behold, there was yourboyfriend.

‘My boyfriend is a crackhead.’ you thought frozen in yourposition.

Your almost 6-foot, killer stage-presence, dance prodigy idolboyfriend was right in front of you.

Stuck in the cat flap.

Before you could even form a coherent sentence, laughterexploded from within you. Your eyes tearing up at the sight, it was gettinghard to breathe from how hard you were laughing.

“HOW DID YOU GET LIKE THIS, YANGYANG?” you hollered as youwalked closer to get a better view.

“I know this looks funny, but I’ve been stuck here for halfan hour.” He spoke in a hushed tone.

“Why are you whispering?” you asked now kneeling next tohim, well, his lower half that that was sticking out the back of the cat flap.

“I don’t want the neighbour on the balcony next to us to seeme like this.” He explained seriously which only made you crack up again.

“Yang Yang, this stuff shouldn’t happen in real life, thisstuff only happens to idiots in movies.”

He huffed in annoyance before shaking himself forcefully causingthe door to rattle.

“Hurry up and get me out! This is exactly which I shouldn’thave texted Ten on my watch. As soon as you get me out of this, I’m blockinghim! You know what, I’m gonna block him right now.” he fussed bringing his Applewatch closer to his face.

You couldn’t actually see his face as his upper body was outsidethe cat flap on the balcony, but you could definitely hear him furiously tappingaway on his watch.

A smirk made its way onto your face as you studied his lowerhalf that was before you. He was on his hands and knees, his bottom in the air.

“You know, Yang Yang, this is actually how a lot of pornstarts.” You said matter-of-factly before placing your hand on his lower back.It was an innocent gesture and Yang Yang probably thought you were going toattempt to pull him out

He scoffed at you but then you felt his body go rigid.

“Y/n, the neighbour and his wife are on the balcony next to us!”He whispered quickly. After noticing that you didn’t respond but that your handremained on his lower back, Yang Yang spoke again.

“Why aren’t you getting oil or a hammer or something? Get meout of this!” he snapped in a whisper.

You replied with a low ‘Ok’ before walking off to retrieve something.Yang Yang’s worry dwindled as he heard you walk away. Thinking that you weregoing to fetch something to help him out of the embarrassing situation that hewas currently in.

It was a while before you returned, in fact Yang Yang hadbegun to listen in on the conversation on the other balcony.

‘Who the hell doesn’t believe in aliens?’ he thoughtto himself before he felt your hands grab the sides of his hips. Your coldhands had shocked him and he almost shrieked before remembering he was tryingto keep quiet.

“Finally, you take so long to do anything.” He complainedrolling his eyes even though you couldn’t see him.

It wasn’t until he felt something firm pressing against hisbottom that his eyes widened.

“Um, t-this isn’t-” you swiftly pulled his grey joggingbottoms and briefs down to his knees. His breathed hitched and his head turneddesperately trying to see through flap but failing to see anything.

“Y/n, are you crazy? There are people on the balcony next tous!”

Your hands returned to his hips, gently squeezing andmassaging the flesh. He hadn’t realized that you had gone to retrieve Yang Yang’sfavourite strapon from your closet rather than actually getting something tohelp him out. It would be easy to get him out, all you would need to do isloosen some screws and he would be freed. However, you had decided that youwouldn’t let this fun and risky opportunity slip through your fingers.

You rubbed your already lubed up cock against the soft skinof his behind.

“Baby, why would I waste such a perfect opportunity?” you askedlowly, grinding your neon pink cock against him. You then poured a generous amountof lube on his twitching entrance.

A small whimper escaped him. You smirked to yourself at thesound.

“It’s not everyday I can take you in this position so easily.You’re always so misbehaved, but now, your tight little hole is readily on displayfor me to destroy with my big, hard cock.” You could see his puckered holeclenching at your words.

“A-and if w-we’re caught?” he squeaked, his voice shaky.

“Guess that’s all a part of the fun then, isn’t it?” youanswered lowly, circling your thumb around his hole.

“Fuck,” you heard him hiss as you pushed the tip in slightly.His breathing was stuttered before he spoke again.

“B-be gentle. I don’t know if I can be quiet if you do it soha-” A loud gasp escaped him feeling you thrust so suddenly inside him. Hishand hastily covered his mouth to muffle his moans.

Your thrusts were deep and powerful. Yang Yang’s body shookas you plowed deep inside him. The door rattled with each powerful thrust. Ittruly did look like a scene from a porno.

“Fuck, this is so hot. Look at you, you’re just a dirtybitch who lets me use your tight fuckhole whenever I want.” Your words werefirm but quiet as you thrusted eagerly into him.

The idea of getting caught was both a turn on for both ofyou but you would both also be horrified if the elderly couple next door heard yourlewd acts.

Yang Yang’s one arm that was holding him up gave out afteryou had pounded his hole so hard that he swore he could feel it in his belly. Youwatched intensely at the neon pink dildo disappearing into his throbbing holewith each thrust.

It felt dirty, like he was some gloryhole whore who anyonecould come fuck. His hands and cheek were flat against the balcony floor. Bitinghis lips to prevent any of his high-pitched whines from being heard, he closedhis eyes, imagining he was just some slut with their ass on display and that youwere some horny stranger taking advantage of him.

“Your little ass is devouring this cock like a pro, I betyou just love having a cock rammed into you until you’re gaping wide open.” Yousaid grinding your thick cock into him.

“Mmmph! Please!” he cried as quietly as he could now pushingback against you.

“Fucking cum for me you needy bitch.” You ordered with afinal rough thrust.

His thick, hot cum splattered onto the floor not long afteryou spoke. Slowing down, you halted your movements seeing that he had climaxed.

Falling back onto your bottom after feeling the sting ofexhaustion in your hips and thighs from pounding to him with such force. Youwere both gasping, Yang Yang more rapidly than you after cumming.

You gently pat his bottom that was still propped up in theair.

“You took it so well; I think you deserve to be let out now.”You said with a tired smile followed by an amused giggle when you rememberedthe situation.

Yang Yang could only manage a half-hearted nod as his body twitched.

[veliseraptor]

I can't remember if anyone has actually asked you this. I apologise beforehand if you're repeating yourself. What are your three favourite scenes in The Untamed and why?

(Love how this took so long, mostly because I was waiting to get through all the listed moments in my rewatch. Anyway! It’s here now!)

Oh, fuck. 

Okay, I couldn’t keep it to three. I tried! I did! But I couldn’t. So here is a list of just general favorite scenes with the three scratched off. I realized belatedly that most of these are just painful because I love pain I guess??? but yeah that’s just who I am and I think I have to accept that.

Under a read more because Jesus this got long.

1. The entire scene at Nightless City culminating in Wei Wuxian’s death. Like, okay, honestly, if I could expand this into basically everything between Jin Zixuan’s death and Wei Wuxian’s, I’d do that, but that feels like too much even though in my head it is all sort of...one contiguous marathon of pain. But god!!! I have a whole thing for...characters hitting their breaking point, for breaking points in general, for seeing a character I love just...crack open, and that’s what happens here.

Like. Wei Wuxian’s been cracking for a while, and there’s a number of breaking points that kind of build on each other, but this is, obviously, where the real snap happens.

And on a narrative level, too, there’s the thing that...this is the point that we as the audience have been spiraling toward since first seeing the beginning of episode one. This is where the entire long stretch of flashback has been pointing - here’s where it culminates, where it falls into place, where everything circles back to where the show started and now you know exactly how it got there. 

Also I just. Love to suffer, and this entire scene is one whole long stretch of suffering. 

2. The golden core reveal. Oh man, I was waiting for this conversation for, like. Ever. I knew it was coming and I knew it was going to have to happen and I just kept being like. When will it be. When will it be and then it happened and god it was beautiful. Everything about this whole scene was just tailor made to hurt me and make me love it, from the confrontation in the ancestral shrine right down to when Jiang Cheng bolts in a panic. 

I hurt for everyone here. Wen Ning who has hit the end of his rope and is just fed up with everything. Jiang Cheng whose world is getting turned upside down and inside out and a whole lot of things falling into place all at once, his self-conception wrecked and his understanding of Wei Wuxian both opened and destroyed. Lan Wangji who is understanding what he missed and, I think, beating himself up about having missed it, and also the fresh understanding of just how ready Wei Wuxian is to throw himself under a bus for the people he loves. Wei Wuxian who doesn’t know any of this is happening but has just collapsed after running on fumes basically since resurrecting and is going to find out later that the biggest secret he’s been keeping and planned to keep for the rest of his life is now out. 

It’s just. Lord. It’s all so painful and it’s all so good, the payoff is so good, and especial mention here of Wen Ning’s done with your shit and I’m not taking it anymore face as he brandishes Suibian at Jiang Cheng not as a weapon, exactly, but a little bit.

(He doesn’t bite but he can hurt you in other ways!)

Anyway, this isn’t actually saying anything coherent, really, except just a lot of “ahhhhh” screaming about this scene and everything in it and everyone suffering in it and just. What a moment. 

3. The excruciating conversation between Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian in episode 48. Oh my god. Ohhhh my god. Okay, so, I’m always going to be a sucker for extremely painful and difficult sibling confrontations where everyone is spilling their feelings everywhere and it’s just a lot, and this was like. I remember on my first watch when this happened and I was like. Holy shit. This. This was what I needed. This!!!! 

And then no real resolution after, orz. But that’s what fanfiction is for. And there’s glimpses of the possibility, for sure, I Believe.

But anyway! And on rewatch this conversation just gets better and also more painful because of the ways that while it is finally a conversation that Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng have sort of needed to have for, like, ever, it’s also one that rips open a lot of old wounds and it is also one that involves a painful amount of talking past each other. 

There’s a long meta post somewhere (sorry! I never know how to find the meta I’m looking for when I want it and I’m lazy right now!) about how what Jiang Cheng needs to hear is that Wei Wuxian loves and cares about him, and what he does hear is that Wei Wuxian is, once again, cutting himself off, that it was all always about debts and obligations and nothing more. And what Wei Wuxian is trying to do is release Jiang Cheng from being tied to him by those debts and obligations, to give him freedom, with I think the idea of creating a clean slate that’s not tainted by everything that went wrong before. He thinks Jiang Cheng needs to be released, but what Jiang Cheng needs is to be held.

(Both of them do! Both of them need that! Both of them need to feel loved and cherished and these things also specifically by each other!)

And I just. I just cry a lot.

But it is also beautiful, in the way that it captures so much about their relationship and the blood and hurt and tenderness and love all tied excruciatingly together, the ways that they hurt and have hurt each other, the ways they push and pull, all of Jiang Cheng’s anger and hurt spilling out everywhere in a way that I think has been building for 16 years. It’s not closure, but it is a catharsis. 

And for Wei Wuxian - I think it has to be, on some level, a relief. Even as it’s painful, even as it is exactly what he never wanted to happen, the secret is out now and he doesn’t have to hold onto it anymore. They are both - in his eyes - free. 

It’s just...a wrenching conversation that hits, like, sixty of my buttons at once and gives me a whole lot of emotions. 

4. asldkajsldfkj the flashback to Xiao Xingchen’s suicide in episode 39 and what comes after, just go ahead and kill me now. Like okay it’s probably obvious by now that I live in this hole called “Yi City, my Xue Yang feelings, and my XueXiao feelings,” and during this liveblog I specifically spilled several posts and screenshots worth of them, but god!!!! it’s just so much. Like, the entire Yi City arc is messy and painful as hell, it’s just like being put through an emotional wringer where I hurt for everyone in it, but this is the part that is especially excruciating because everyone in this emotional climax is suffering so much. 

And, like. We knew where this would end. We knew Xiao Xingchen died, and a-Qing was just killed, and at this point Xue Yang is dying. No one is getting out of this alive - but we haven’t seen yet exactly how things closed out. And the answer is “badly. it’s badly.” 

Both of these people in the very bad breakup scene are hurting. Xiao Xingchen is in agony, his life falling apart in his hands - everything he thought he knew has been a lie, he’s been tricked, played for a fool. And the hammer blows keep coming. It’s not enough that it’s Xue Yang, that Xue Yang has been fucking with him (as far as he knows), lying to him, for three years. It’s what Xue Yang reveals about what he’s done. And then it’s what Xue Yang reveals about what he’s done to Song Lan.

And on the other end - Xue Yang’s weird fake domestic life that he’s gotten attached to, Xiao Xingchen who he’s come to care about - it’s imploding, irrevocably, in front of his face. And first he tries to explain himself, sort of, but he must know it’s not going to work; and then he goes back to what he does best and lashes out. You’re going to hurt me? I’ll hurt you fifty times as much.

I think he expects a fight. Or maybe, at most, he expects Xiao Xingchen to break down, and maybe he has some vague idea that then he can say see, this is what the world is really like, now you get it and rebuild him in some kind of Xue Yang-esque image (though I don’t think he really thinks that’ll happen). He doesn’t expect Xiao Xingchen to kill himself. He doesn’t expect Xiao Xingchen to die.

And then he doesn’t expect to not be able to get him back.

It’s just. This whole arc is people destroying each other and themselves body and soul, and this is the climax of it, the breaking point. And it hurts, real bad.

And as we have established! I love to suffer.

5. Drunk Lan Wangji, take two. All of these are like. “Pain! Pain! Pain!” and here we are with some goofy antics instead. I mean, the intro to drunk!Wangji is sad in the way that it has to do with what happened to Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen (and Lan Wangji’s always feelings about those parallels ouch), but then...I mean, drunk!Wangji is just generally adorable, but here he is especially adorable. 

Chicken theft! Vandalism! Trespassing! His adorable little smile when Wei Wuxian asks if he likes rabbits and he’s like. Yeah. :) :)

And then we close out with more emotions, of course. Because it’s not The Untamed without a little bit of pain thrown in there. 

“I have regret,” Lan Wangji says, a confession of fault, and of course Wei Wuxian can’t receive it, or won’t - and Lan Wangji reacts to his attempt at absolution by basically doing his usual “I don’t want to talk about this” routine of just bluntly changing the subject (in this case “going to bed now goodnight.”).

Also the entire bit where he goes from hopelessly drunk to fighting off an opponent and then back to hopelessly drunk, like. Even drunk!Wangji can and will kick your ass. 

And all of Wei Wuxian just like. Basically trip babysitting him? Gently trying to herd him around? The gentleness and fondness of it all?

Good. All good.

6. Qiongqi Path, take one. Emotional mauling! Terrifying evil flute Wei Wuxian! Dramatic face-off between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji! The beginning of Lan Wangji’s moral crisis! (Or, okay, not the beginning but this is definitely a major breaking point for his worldview, I think, and where his questioning really, truly begins.) 

It’s just...a lot of good. Everything with Wen Qing searching for Wen Ning’s body hurts so bad. Wei Wuxian coming stalking back into the camp with vengeance on the brain is as gloriously sexy as that vibe always is on him. And the confrontation between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian? oh man. 

Juicy. And also. Ouch. 

(And am I a sucker for everything about ‘former allies ending up on opposite sides and one of them saying something along the lines of ‘if I’m going to die then I’d rather it was you who killed me’ yes I sure am! I didn’t cry nearly as much on my third watch but this scene is another one of my points that I think of when I think of bits in The Untamed that make me cry.

And as we’ve established already, I just love to cry.

7. God like. All of episode 19? Is that cheating? But it’s all so good! We have suffering Wei Wuxian! Mouthing off while being tortured! The entire sequence of him grabbing the sword and that moment of choice where his life turns as he answers that question (do you want revenge?) with a resounding yes? 

Lan Wangji absolutely fucking up some Wens on a desperate quest for Wei Wuxian? Teaming up with Jiang Cheng? (Do I still want to see more of that team up in that time? Yes please!!) SPOOKY FUCKING FLUTE MUSIC STARTING SIGNALING EXTREMELY OMINOUS THINGS TO COME?

Anyway it’s all very “fuck yeah, this is all quite tailored to me and my interests, thank you.”

8. Jiang Yanli coming for Jin Zixun’s life. I feel like I should just link to this analysis of this scene that really breaks it all down in detail? But god so satisfying. I mean, Jin Zixun is truly one of the most hateable characters in this show, in my opinion, and seeing Jiang Yanli step up and politely and meticulously demolish him is like. So satisfying. 

The face of a woman about to murder someone. But with words.

I really wish we could’ve seen more of this Jiang Yanli, because before this point she’s all softness and gentleness and while that’s very true of her - this part of her is also there, always, and I’d love to have seen more of it.

But like. Getting it here? Stunning. Showstopping. Love it.

9. Wei Wuxian wrecks a party, but, like, sexily. I mean, he wrecks a few parties, but I’m thinking specifically of the one in episode 26 prior to Qiongqi Path, take one. Everything about that whole scene is gold top to bottom, but what really gets me going is everything from the dramatic entrance (I’m tempted to make a list of Wei Wuxian’s best dramatic entrances) onward to “sexy menacing countdown.” It’s just all so...I mean, I’ve talked about how much I love furiously angry and on the verge of losing it Wei Wuxian, and this is some prime that material. 

(Pictured: the sexiest way anyone has ever said the word ‘two.’)

And just! The tension of it all, how it builds and builds and builds and even when it finally releases when Zixun caves there’s still all this lingering “oh fuck! that’s bad!” dread...it’s just very good. 

And I also love it as one of those key plot turning moments where it’s like. This isn’t the irrevocable break, but it’s a big one as far as ‘no going back from this.’

And like. Not just Wei Wuxian, everyone else in this scene is excellent too. Just. Mm. Good.

10. Wei Wuxian is sexy when he’s mean and that’s just the truth. Which is to say: the very bad breakup scene between him and Lan Wangji in episode 20. I’ve read two different analyses of this scene, both brilliant (by @hunxi-guilai here, and @neuxue here), and I feel like I can’t add much to that other than to reiterate that Wei Wuxian is very sexy when he’s mean, and the layers of everything going on in this scene are. Ugh!!! So good.

(I mean, also everything that comes before, I have put myself down firmly in camp “Wei Wuxian is also sexy when he murders people, you go Wei Ying, murder people as much as you want, it’s hot.” And the hug with Jiang Cheng! (THAT HUG. IT IS SUCH A HUG.))

But the confrontation between him and Lan Wangji in particular! it is so fuckin good. Honestly just read the linked analyses, I’ve got nothing I can say better that’s not in there, just a lot of “ahhhhhhh” about it all.

BONUS MENTIONS TO: basically every time Wei Wuxian Yiling Laozus, “stay and die with me.” 

[inkperch]

V8E13 Thoughts- Just OUCH.

Ok, so, this one is me live tweeting my second watching, cause there is no way in FUCKING HELL Im being coherant otherwise HOLY CRAP.

Jaune’s motion sickness coming up again is fun. The evacuation plan is pretty smart tbh. Ren’s fuCKING SMILE- if I didn’t ship Renora b4 this, I’d ship it now. Also, Nora can ride her hammer like a broom now, and its so casual Im genuinely trying to remeber if Im just being dumb and she could always do that? The subway scene is f-ing hilarious, but I can’t help but feel like they were intentionally being more cartoon-y than usual cause of the shit that happens later.

Everyones wonder at the portals is just *chefs kiss*. Especially May’s ‘figured you wouldn’t let us down!’- shes awesome, strong contender in the ‘probably only here for one arc+cameos’ best girl contest. Ilia’s still winning, but May’s a strong 2nd place. Really don’t like how fast Ruby gets back to mission mode tho- girl, let yourself appreciate the pretty golden bridges ffs, you definitely don’t by the end of the episode.

And I love how the biggest problem was something they just... couldn’t predict. The sandstorm wasn’t a fault in their plan, it wasn’t a villainous scheme, it just happened.

I swear Cinder’s the animation teams favourite, her expressions are always 100% spot on. And RWBY squaring up, altogether again, is badass. 

And just- the way she’s still super shaken? But comes up with a perfect plan regardless? Wow. Like- she took exactly what needed taking from Watt’s speech, how to get Neo back on board and, as we see later, exactly what to tell Watts to get him on her side. V1-3 Cinder’s back guys, and she’s more dangerous than ever.

And Jinn’s moment of hesitation before answering Cinder is great- Jinn may be a solid True Neutral, but she still doesn’t particularly want to doom Ruby’s plan. She knew exactly what answering the question would lead to, after all.

Actually- Hey, Jinn seems to get linked to Ruby like, a lot. Obviously Ruby was the first person we saw ask her a question and, while Yang got them the lamp, Ruby was the one carrying it all the way to Atlas pretty much. And then theres the big, obvious one- when the Spirit of Knowledge admits your clever, your clever. Food for thought.

Cinder’s troubled response to seeing Emerald- seriously, animation team popped off this season. And the fucking SOUNDTRACK DISSONANCE! It sounds like something out of a ballet, and then we’re shown them casually enter a room full of people and seal the door- then cut to a room full of corpses. Without so much as a blip in the happy, airy music. Cause really what’s changed? Everything’s coming up Cinder! (also, Neo beating a survivor around the head got a guilty laugh, I’ll admit.)

The #1 Dud mug hit different.

And Robyn’s spitting facts. Marrow is the best, wasn’t sold on him, then he went and did this. Also, FUCK HARRIET. Saving her own ass so she can go doom Mantle. Didn’t even fuckin TRY to wait for Wacky Tube Man and Adult Nora. And Robyn’s face- ok, fine, I’ll shut up about the animation team. No I won’t, but I’m running out of creative ways to say they’re awesome.

Also, fuck Jaques! I was fucking CACKLING when Ironwood shot him! Just- fuckign hell, I know it shows just how far he’s fallen, willing to execute a prisoner who, even in the case of escape is harmless now, but also, it’s Jaques, the guy’s a fucking hate sink for a reason, best choice Ironwood’s made all season! I guess it’s pretty clear he’s dead now huh?

Also- Cinder keeping the attention off of Neo- like, I only noticed it here but holy crap, Cinder isn’t lying in her speech- this is great teamwork, and it’s the kind of teamwork Cinder excels at- she makes some form of spectacle that furthers her goals, then uses it as a distraction for an even bigger part of her goals- we first saw it at Beacon. Like I said, Cinder’s back~ rip any redemption arc tho, she’s just better at being worse- it’s actually a really, really good villain arc, without becoming a redemption arc and I love it.

And then, Yang’s sacrifice- ok, like the Penny one I’d had this mildly spoiled for me. Unlike the Penny one, I had 0 hope of her getting out of this intact. Because as soon as there was that black screen, I knew Yang was fucked- cause, remember what other scene we saw shot like this? Close up of Yang’s face, then she activates her semblance and throws herself forward? All because someone she loves is in danger? Yeah, I was having big V3 flashbacks at this point, so I knew Yang wasn’t gonna be ok.

Also, something I didn’t notice until rewatch, but the reason Blakes the only one fast enough to react is cause Ruby’s on the floor. Kinda neat attention to detail. First watch I just joked to myself her reaction times shit.

And Blake just missing- wow. Fucking OUCH. She’s probably having V3 thoughts too. And just generally the way this is framed- just fucking OUCH. The heartbeat sound, the black frames, the slowmow- just OUCH. Speaking of OUCH, that ‘YAAAANG!’. Like. Excellent voice acting (and animation, again, seriously wow.) And the FUCKING ECHO! Just- OUCH. That’s just a summary of this whole scene, just fucking OUCH.

Also, as we learn later, if Yang had fallen a second later, Penny would’ve been through the portal before she could react. Think about that for a second- Penny would’ve gone through the portal, guilty about leaving her friends behind to fight, only to her a heartbroken cry of ‘Yang!’ literally as she stepped through- only to realise she can’t go back.

Also, RUBY IS NOT OK. GIVE RUBY A FUCKING HUG. HER SISTER JUST DIED AND BEFORE SHE CAN PROCESS THAT, SHE HAS TO FIGHT FOR HER FUCKING LIFE AGAINST THE PERSON YANG JUST DIED TO SAVE HER FROM. Seriously, give Ruby a fucking break holy shit. That quiet ‘Yang?’ and then she is immediately back in mission mode? O U C H.  

Also, Neo is smiling in that fight, wow, holy shit- wait, theres the other V3 scene this gave me Deja Vu to, it’s the fucking Roman fight! Neo just did to Ruby what Ruby did to Neo, but flipped- she ‘ring out’ed Yang to her death, when Ruby ‘ring out’ed Neo and then ‘killed’ Torchwick. Wow, holy crap.

And, again, ANIMATION TEAM OUCH. Seriosly, why are they so good at animating sobbing? Also, cute detail with Weiss holding Blake back. Don’t know why I’m calling it cute, nothing here is cute, holy shit, this episode is ouch. And the fucking anger, it’s so well animated holy fuck. And Neo refusing to even fight Blake, cause Ruby’s her target- yeah, that’s gonna fuck both them up. I am not looking forward to the end of these fight scenes- and seriously? Was this what Yang having her back turned in the OP was foreshadowing???

Weiss vs Cinder is awesome- Weiss has been on good form when it comes to winning fights again this season. Helps that, other than the ones who can fly, she’s in the best position to fight here what with her glyphs and all.

Penny trying to draw her swords and not got a laugh out of me, I’ll admit. To be fair, I was laughing at anything and everything at that point, cause they just fuckin killed Yang. Also, Rip Penny’s feet, imagine the friction burns? Like, ignoring how shes running around barefoot rn, i m a g i n e the friction burns from getting thrown like that with no shoes. Whole different kind of ouch.

And, Ok, so, are Penny’s swords made of rocks? Because they don’t look particularly rock-y. They look like something out of TRON tbh, don’t really seem Maiden-y to me. 

Weiss protecting everyone with her sword is badass. Blake being forced to chose between protecting everyone, and murdering Neo is heartbreaking just- 

This fuckING FRAME!

Also, yeah, FUCK HARRIET. Also, Robyn ramming them had me fucking cackling so hard- just, like, Wacky arms guy almost, almost talked some sense into her (Not really, or she wouldn’t go back on it so quickly, but almost), meanwhile in the other jet, Robyn ain’t letting anyone kill her people. Especially not mid-evacuation, that’s just a dick move. FUCK HARRIET. And like... was Harriet into Clover? I’m reading that right, right? Cause like... that’s some yikesy foreshadowing on the back of YANG GETTING KILLED OFF.

But also, still, FUCK HARRIET. Qrow throwing himself through the windshield was 10/10, would fight intro again. And Arthur finished his apple before hyjacking the bomb.

And then, the Winter scene. Is Ironwood just in a Schnee- killing mood? Ironwood’s speech is... honestly, heart-breaking. He is the definition of a fallen hero. If he wasn’t blinded by paranoia and driven to rely on no-one but himself and a very select few, would he still have come believe he was the only one who anyone could trust? Because that’s, ultimately, what has brought him here- he doesn’t think he can trust anyone but himself, and so, he must be the only one who can save Atlas, right?

And Winter’s FUCKING RESPONSE- ‘I’ve never wavered in fighting the enemies of this kingdom... and I won’t start now.�� No emotion, no hesitation, no anything. Just resolve. Made even more badass by how clearly pained she is- and like, I don’t mean emotionally, that’s cool too, I mean that she’s physically in pain, but still won’t even hesitate to fight the guy who took a whole team to fight in a sneak attack last episode. And Ironwood’s response... I really can’t praise the animation team enough.

And then there’s the other side of the portal- Ren is MVP ngl, that’s a stupid amount of people he sheilded for a stupid amount of time, all on his own.

Ok, so, next week’s big fights. RWBP vs Cinder and Neo inside the bridge world, Qrow vs Harriet, with plane assists from Robyn and who the fuck knows from Wacky arms man in the atlas/mantle set for the last time probably. Winter vs Ironwood. And Oscar, Emerald and a half-dead Ren vs a massive, massive crowd of Grimm all while doing an escort mission.

...I’m not going on Youtube for a week.

[potatowitch]

Thank you for tagging me in this @noire-pandora!

Year-End Writer’s Round-Up 2020

Word Count for 2020: 15,388

New things I tried this year:

Actually writing fic again? Back in around 2017 I did a few Star Wars fic scribbles but they were never really anything coherent and I gave up after a while. 2020 gave me a new hyperfixation and heaps of time to myself to write, so the inspiration finally struck. I also finally had enough courage to start publishing things, even if I’m never going to be 100% happy with them. It’s been a bit of a learning curve, but the Serotonin I get from people commenting on my fics is so worth the anxiety I get from posting them.

Fic I spent the most time on:

It was Vigilance, and I still ended up hating it and taking it down. It’s going through a bit of a rework at the moment because there are some good ideas in there, I just spent so much time pushing myself to get the thing done and I feel like you can tell my heart wasn’t really in it when you read it. Aside from that, What Remains is the first fic I’ve written where I’m fully expecting it to be a multi-chapter. I’ve spent a lot of time outlining it.

Fic I spent the least time on:

Aside from the little tumblr drabbles, I hammered out In The End and The Other Side pretty damn quickly. I had a flash of inspiration and just went to town.

Favourite thing I wrote:

I love In The End and Homecoming. I’m really proud of the imagery and structure in both of them. I’m also a big fan of some of the dialogue I’ve written in my WIP “nate why u so THIRSTY” (working title) and there’s a gratuitous amount of description of how pretty all the Awakening companions are (besides Oghren and Justice lmao).

Favourite thing I read:

I could go on for hours about the fics that I love and that have inspired me this year, but that would probably be exhausting to read, so I’ll have to narrow it down to just a few (you’re expecting me to choose just one? please).

Among Conflicting Winds in a Frail Boat by rabbit_habits: Honestly, will I ever stop talking about this fic? It’s such a gorgeous exploration of Anders and Fenris’ characters. The imagery is so potent without leaning into purple prose - you can smell and taste Kirkwall, almost - and I adore the use of in-game dialogue. This shit made me weep on more than one occasion and sometimes I still find myself zoning out in the shower to think about it.

May Love Only Last Till Morning by PalavaRakkaus: Apparently the author has never even touched DA2, which I find impossible because their characterisation is so on point. It’s funny, it’s witty, it’s got angst and misunderstandings and two idiots accidentally falling in love with each other and having great sex. Highly recommend.

Lessons in Healing by MittenCrab: I am here for Angst TM and boy does this fic deliver. A very thorough exploration of Anders’ bipolar, his time in the circle, his self-hatred, his relationship with Karl; and some very delicious smut right smack bang in the middle.

Writing goals for next year:

Learn how to write smut. It intimidates me to no end, but there’s definitely bits in my WIPs that I want to actually fill with sex rather than just fading to black; and there’s pairings and tropes that AO3 is lacking that I want to read and eventually I must accept that that means I need to put on my big girl panties and write the damn smut myself.

I also want to get more comfortable with working on longer fics. I have a tendency to run out of steam when writing and if I force myself to write past that point it becomes a massive slog, but I want to try properly outlining multi-chapter fics and even writing scenes out of order if I need to. I’ve got lots of ideas that would span multiple chapters and I’m just very intimidated by that at the moment.

And I want to lean a little back into my poetry roots and incorporate that kind of language into fic. Sort of like ... really long form freestyle poetry, if that makes sense? I’ve written poetry for pairings before, too, so it’s not too far from what I’m used to.

I think Noire has already tagged most of the writers I’m mutuals with in her post, but if you write and haven’t been tagged yet, consider this me tagging you. I’m always down to read new stuff <3

[wwilloww]

SH. | they/them | ot7 | chapter two

This version is written with they/them pronouns. You can read the same story with she/her pronouns HERE. 

PAIRING: ot7 x reader

RATING: Explicit.

GENRE: NonIdol!Au. Wilderness!Au. Roommates!au. f2l. Smut. Fluff.

WC: 7.6k

SUMMARY: Six months of quarantine have kept you apart. Somehow the distance sparks something new in each of you: questions, unfinished conversations, threads once chased now left cold. So when your roommate invites you to reunite with your friends in a mysterious house in the mountains, how could you even think of saying no?  

WARNINGS: Unprotected sex. Sexual tension. Voyeurism. Group sex. Slight mxm. Breast play. Power play. Dirty talk. Slight degradation kink. Edging. Orgasm denial. Bondage. Light sub/dom themes. Teasing. Discussion of sex. Discussions of sub/dom roles. Sex dreams. Pining. Praise kink.

AN: Like mentioned above, this version uses they/them pronouns. I am always happy to hear your feedback on reading this version and if there’s things that might make the experience better!

Wow, oh my god, I am so excited to post this chapter. Thank you all for keeping me excited for it with all of your messages and comments - knowing you all are here and reading and liking this is the most encouraging experience. I didn’t realize how important it would be to thirst with others until this chapter. So thank you a million to @joopiterjoon and @ot7always for brainstorming with me. A whole bundle of blessings needs to fall from the sky onto @hesperantha and @thatlongspringnight who beta’d this for me and, per usual, helped make this feel like a complete story and not just my own ramblings.

If you read this and find something in this story that you enjoy, please consider leaving a note! Your thoughts, ideas, and feedback are truly so meaningful to me and keep me energized while I balance work and school and writing. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy!

<- || series m.list || ->

©️wwilloww do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission. 

CHAPTER TWO 

“By all means, please — don’t let me stop you,” Jimin says.

Your eyes shoot up to his face.

And you fucking whimper.

You feel the heat pool in your stomach, the kind of heat that sears hot like a flash — heat as hot as Jimin’s gaze and Jungkook groans as you tighten around him.  

He’s cool. Somehow collected. If you didn’t know him so well you might think he was entirely unaffected by the scene before him: your — Well, Hobi’s — large sleep shirt pushed precariously off of one shoulder and hiked up to your chest, your body pushed painfully (delightfully so) up against the kitchen island, Jungkook’s hand wrapped around your mouth, his cock deep inside you.

If you didn’t know Jimin so well, you wouldn’t recognize how his eyes sparkle dark and deep with desire as he takes in the intertwined bodies before him.

“Hyung,” Jungkook breaths, the word dancing from his tongue in the most undeniable mix of desperation and shame. You watch as Jimin’s eyes flick up away from your face and towards Jungkook’s.

As their eyes meet, you feel his cock twitch within you, pressing against your sensitive walls. You suck in a shaky breath.  

“Didn’t you hear me?” Jimin all but grins. “Don’t let me stop you.”

“I—” Jungkook begins, but freezes when Jimin raises an eyebrow. He steps toward the pair of you, his gaze flickering with mischief.

“You?” His tone has an edge of mockery to it.  

Jungkook freezes as Jimin rounds the island, moving ever closer to you. He gives you a firm look-over.  

“You’d look even better with a hand wrapped around your throat.”

Jimin says this as casually as if he is suggesting Jin add a pinch more gochugaru to the pan, rather than speaking on the state of your mid-fuck.

“Even better with your hand wrapped around my throat?” you murmur back at him, your breath shaking.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses and thrusts into you.

Your breath is rammed from you with the force of Jungkook’s movements and you stumble forward and catch yourself on the counter. Jimin watches your face carefully.

“Hm,” he hums. Reaches out to you. Pushes the hair that’s stuck to your forehead back with a gentle touch. “Go ahead. Fuck in front of me. Split them open.”

Your eyes lock and you can feel Jungkook tense behind you. You can feel his arousal radiating off of him as Jimin’s gaze roves openly over the pair of you. He always was a bit of a show-off, just as Jimin’s always been a bit of a voyeur. You can feel Jungkook torn between the swirling mystery of Jimin before him and the desire to get lost in the tight heat of your cunt.

“Are you really going to just leave them there, impaled on your cock?”

“N-no.”

“Then fuck them.”

You can’t help it. Your back arches as the shock of his words runs through you and you try to push back on his cock, but Jungkook’s grip holds you in place. And then, finally, he begins to move. You’re not sure if it’s your desperation or the sternness of Jimin’s order that gives him what he needs.

“Thank you,” you think you hear Jungkook breathe.

Permission, you note.

He withdraws ever so slowly before ramming back into you, his hand digging into the flesh of your cheeks, arching your head back ever so slightly. Still, you keep your gaze fixed on Jimin. He leans back just a bit, looking down on you as he takes in the sight of the two of you fucking. With an arched brow, he lets his gaze slip down your body. You think you see a little smirk play upon his lips as he takes in your form, limp at Jungkook’s every touch, shuddering with the force of his movements.

And then he blinks, really smirks, and turns away.

As if you and Jungkook aren’t fucking like bunnies right in front of him, Jimin turns towards the cabinet behind him, opening it up and reaching to the first shelf to grab an empty glass. He disappears for a moment and you can hear the faucet running behind you as Jungkook continues to fuck into you.

“Shit,” Jungkook breathes into your shoulder, leaning down. “You feel so fucking good.” He whispers the words as if he thinks only you will hear them, but you know very well that Jimin is just as aware of his words as he is of the slick sound of Jungkook’s cock dragging in and out of you at break-neck speed.

“Please,” you gasp, not quite sure what you’re begging for.

And then Jimin re-enters your vision again, this time, on your right side. He leans back against the counter, watching the two of you as if he is taking notes. His gaze skims over your face, your heaving chest, the way your hands grip the counter top, the way Jungkook’s fat cock parts your cunt and stretches you open. He takes a sip of water. A second one. Sets the glass down on the counter.

“So that’s the best you can do, little Kookie?”

Jungkook gasps. His pace stutters.

“Wha—”

“You think you can just give them a boring jackhammer fuck them and expect it to be enough?” Jimin drawls, stepping closer. “Look at them. They’re bored out of their mind.” You begin to say something — fuck me, touch me, anything, please — but Jimin only comes closer, reaching out to grip your chin in his hand. Your eyes go wide as they lock with his. “When you’re fucking someone you ought to make sure the only thing they want to keep their eyes on is you. And right now they seem pretty distracted.”

Jimin steps around the pair of you, coming to stand behind Jungkook. He peers over his shoulder.

“Hm.”

“What the fuck, hyung,” Jungkook hisses, although it seems more like a question than an attack. Jimin lets his touch flutter at the top of Jungkook’s spine. And then he dives in, letting his fingers drag up the back of his neck, digging into his hair, gripping onto the root to pull his head back. Jungkook gasps in pleasure and his grip on you tightens. “Shit,” he groans.

“Don’t you want to see them cum? Don’t you want to see them come undone for you?”

“Y-yes.”

“Then listen to me.”

Just like that, Jimin runs his hand down Jungkook’s back, tracing the rippling muscle beneath his t-shirt, coming down to rest on his hip. Jungkook’s breath shudders as his hyung squeezes the sensitive flesh.

Looking over Jungkook’s shoulder, Jimin eyes the place where your bodies meet, Jungkook’s cock splitting you wide open.

“The problem won’t be the tools in the toolbox, just a matter of you knowing how to use them,” Jimin murmurs. “Have you ever tried to tighten a screw with a hammer?” Jungkook shakes his head. “Exactly. Now, just like this.”

You want to tell him that Jungkook is fucking you just fine, thank you very much and if Jimin wouldn’t mind letting him get back to business you might actually orgasm — but before you can manage to form any kind of coherent sentence, Jimin guides Jungkook’s hip forward and into you.

“That’s a good boy,” Jimin coos, and you can feel Jungkook shudder behind you.

He sets a pace quickly, one that is dangerously slow. And when he begins to pull out, the head of his cock drags against your tightening walls. Jungkook’s hand is somehow, still, wrapped around your mouth and reminds you to keep quiet. Still, your face presses in concentration and pleasure. He continues to drag in and out, ever so slowly.

“There you go,” Jimin coos. “And now that you know they can feel every last vein and twitch of your cock, you can pick up the pace.”

Jungkook stutters into you and Jimin acts quickly, reaching down to wrap his hand around Jungkook’s glistening length. He groans at the touch and Jimin reacts with speed, digging his hands into Jungkook’s hip and hissing:

“The movie got quiet, don’t be so loud now.”

You can feel Jimin’s fingers wrapped around Jungkook’s cock as he maneuvers his younger friend with grace and control into you, diving towards deeper pleasure.

“Please, more,” you beg. “Touch me.”

Jimin releases Jungkook to reach around you, letting his fingers trace down your stomach until he reaches the hem of your sleep shorts. He pushes them even further to the side, allowing him better access to you. He reaches out to swipe deftly at your clit, burning for release. His touch feels like heaven and he moves expertly against you, pulling out your pleasure bit by bit, only to pull back and let the edge of your orgasm withdraw from your abdomen.

“Yes, just like that,” Jimin hums with delight as you squirm against his touch, the combination of his ministrations and Jungkook’s cock pushing you ever closer to release. “See, look at them. They’re barely holding on.”

He’s right. Your hands keep slipping off of the countertop as Jungkook drives into you and Jimin reaches for you. With a quick signal to Jungkook, he’s loosening his hold on your mouth, releasing you. With your lips free, Jimin takes you in. As if he can’t help it, he reaches for your lip, running his thumb over the swollen flesh before dipping his thumb into your mouth and pressing lightly on your tongue. You whine.

“Sh, baby,” Jimin sings. “Doesn’t that feel so good?” You nod, vigorously. “Isn’t Jungkookie fucking you so good?” He tugs his hand from your shorts, letting his arousal-soaked fingers trace up to your belly. “Can you feel his big, fat cock inside you, fucking you open? Maybe when he’s done with you, I can take a turn.”

“Please,” you say, as he pulls his hand out of your mouth. “Fuck me.”

“Let Jungkookie finish his turn first.”

You nod, and suddenly Jimin is slipping between you and the counter, pressing against you, trailing his hand up your side to grip your chin between his hands. And then he’s kissing you, and you hold onto him as if there’s nothing in the world left to hold onto you as Jungkook continues to thrust into you. Jimin grunts and you suddenly feel him pressing against your belly, hard and ready.

The thought of two of your gorgeous friends taking delight in you like this — fucking you, bending you to their every whim — pushes you towards the cliff of an orgasm. A desperately needed, much earned, so very desired org—

Your attention shifts to the kitchen, behind you, the sink drips with water in a far too noticeable pattern, the refrigerator hums too loudly and you freeze.

Something’s off. It’s not the fact that two of your friends are building you towards the most delicious orgasm you’ve had in years. No. No. It’s quiet. Too quiet.

“Shit,” you hiss into Jungkook’s hand, but it comes out as more of a steady whine as your lips move unsuccessfully against his tight grip. Jimin chuckles at the delirious sound.

“Shh, my lovely,” he coos, pressing harder against your clit. “You’re so cl—” Your body is taut with a mixture of need and nerves, watching Jimin's eyes shift to the door, to the way the volume changes on the TV, to its silence. It’s his turn for his eyes to shoot wide, finally hearing what you’re hearing. Nothing. His fingers dig once more into Jungkook. “Stop. Quick.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. In a second he’s pulled out of you, pulled up his sweatpants and re-adjusted your sleep shorts.

“What now,” you breathe, looking over Jimin and Jungkook’s clearly aroused forms. Both of them sporting visible erections, blown out eyes, and reddened faces.

“You’re...you’re so sweaty,” Jungkook murmurs, brushing a damp strand behind your ear. You feel your cheeks warm with the gentle touch. It feels mighty intimate, even though he just had his bare cock in you less than a minute ago. “You look like you’ve been fucked. What are you going to say?” He speaks quickly.

“They’ll know,” Jimin muses, tugging your shirt down so your belly is fully covered again. “Just— one second.”

He whirls around, leaning towards the sink where he grabs the detachable faucet and points it at you.

“What do you think you’re—”

The spray of water hits you like a jet, spurting in your mouth, dripping into your eyes, pummeling your chest.

“What the fuck.”

The three of you whip around. Namjoon is standing in the doorway to the kitchen. The hose is still spraying directly into your face and Jimin quickly directs it towards Jungkook who curses and lunges at his older friend, wrangling the water jet out of his hand.

“It’s a white fucking t-shirt,” you hiss in Jimin’s direction once Jungkook’s grabbed it and restowed it into the sink.

Everybody in the room seems to notice this at the exact same moment as three pairs of eyes flicker down to your chest. Water runs in rivulets down from your face and hair, as if artistically directing the viewer’s gaze to where the soping cotton hugs you like a second skin, the fabric becoming almost translucent. Everyone can see just how flushed your chest is, just how erect your nipples are.

“Here.” Namjoon physically shakes his head, as if to dispel the thoughts sweeping through him and reaches to his back, pulling his shirt over his head. He tosses it to you, and you mutter a quick thanks as you turn away from the three men, suddenly overcome with abject shyness. You pull Namjoon’s shirt over your head while slipping the wet shirt out from under the fresh one, a successful rendition of the catholic school girl change while Namjoon mutters a confused, “y’all seem pretty hyped up just for a water fight.”

“What happened here?” Taehyung yawns, wiping sleep from his eyes, seemingly unsurprised to stumble into the kitchen in the middle of the night and find pools of water splashed around and two and a half soaking wet friends. “Well hello there,” he nods at a shirtless Joon.

“An accident,” Namjoon explains, his tone unaffected. He crosses his arms over his chest, “Jimin thought it’d be a good idea to play water fight at 1:30 in the morning.”  

Has he been working out? you wonder, gaze roving over the shining planes of his chest. With his arms crossed, his pecs seem especially voluptuous, and god, not to mention the way his arms bulge with the new position.

“The others? They already went to bed. I wanted bread.”

Namjoon points at the cabinet where it’s presumably stored.  

“Come with me, I have something for you,” Jungkook whispers in your ear.

“I should probably go to b—”

But Jungkook snatches your hand from where you’re fiddling with the hem of Namjoon’s shirt and slips his fingers between yours.

“Just walk me home, like a good friend.”

You groan, but he tugs you along with him.

“Goodnight all!” Jungkook shouts over his shoulder.

“Where the hell are they going,” you hear Taehyung grumble.

It’s not until you’re out of range of the others that Jungkook bursts into laughter. The sound burbles from his chest like a stream of bells, echoing through the hallway. It’s contagious. Before you know it, you’re laughing too, leaning into his side and letting it out of you like a steam roller.

“What the fuck did we just do?” Jungkook chortles.

“I think we fucked.”

“And Jimin wrapped his hand around my cock.”

“And called you a good boy,” you giggle. The blush that lights his cheeks as you remind him is undeniable. “You liked it!”

“...I did.”

The two of you burst into uncontrolled laughter.

As you calm down, silence settles over the pair of you and you find his gaze rolling, calculating, over your face. The silence that falls over the hallway feels heavy. Laden with questions.

For the first time in your friendship, you wonder what he’s thinking. If you’ve done something unmistakably horrible. In silence, you just stare at each other.

“Did we mess up?” you whisper to Jungkook.

He looks you over for a moment.

“You know, there’s no such thing as regret,” Jungkook whispers, back, placing the chastest of kisses on your forehead. “Not with you. I won’t allow it.” He lets his hand glide around the back of your neck, hooking you in to him, pulling you close to his chest. “Even if we messed up, it’ll have been a good mess. Okay?” You nod into his chest and let your hands snake around his waist and sigh at the familiar embrace. When he speaks again, his words reverberate through his chest and into your body. “Go to sleep. And tomorrow we can finish trying out whatever the hell it was that Jiminie tried to show me tonight.” You giggle. “Or talk. Whatever.”

He shoves you lightly away from him, flashing you one more of those kooky smiles and retreats into the darkness of his room. The click of the bedroom door echoes too-loudly through the too-tall hallway.

You sigh. Turn on your heel. And pad softly across the house, across the cold glass bridge to your waiting bed.

“And they were wearing your shirt…” Taehyung’s eyes widen and he pokes a finger into Namjoon’s chest, accentuating each word. “Because you fucked them and the water fight was just a cover for—”  

“No, no, no,” Namjoon waves his hands. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“I don’t care. It’s been years. And I have Jin now.”

“Anyways, you saw me leave the movie. I was gone only a minute longer than you.”

Taehyung shrugs, popping another piece of pink bread into his mouth. “Who knows. Out of all of us you’re known to be the fastest and most efficient. Who says that wouldn’t translate over to se— ”

“Don’t say it.”

“Sex. Sexsexsexsexsex.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes and laughs.

“I don’t know why you have to be so fucking explicit about it all the time.”

“When you’re having the best sex of your life, you’ll wanna be explicit about it all the time. Speaking of which, you really gotta get on that—”

“The best sex of my life?”

“No, just the whole, shying away thing. Do you, but also…” Taehyung squeezes Namjoon’s shoulder. “It’s okay to not hold back all the goddamn time. You don’t have to keep things together for all of us anymore.”

“Tae…”

“I’m gonna offer you a challenge.”

“Huh?”

“This time you spend, up here in this fucking massive house, when you get an opportunity to let loose a little bit: take it. Just take it. You don’t have to think so hard about everything.” He claps Namjoon on the shoulder. “But for now, get some rest. Big day tomorrow.”

“Big day?”

“Big fucking day of relaxing.”

Namjoon chuckles and waves towards his friend.

“Thanks, Tae. Sweet dreams.”

Pushing open the large French doors, you peer inside.

Hobi is sitting on one of the chairs in the seating area, elbows on his knees, scrolling through his phone.

“There you are,” he looks up when the door closes behind you.

“Here I am.”

A smile spreads slowly across his face as he takes in your appearance: water still dripping from soaking hair, sleep shorts rumpled, his shirt bundled in your hand, drenched and dripping onto the tile.

“What the hell happened to you?”

“Our dear Jimin decided watersports were the best way to end the night,” you grumbled.

“C’mere,” Hobi sings, skipping from the chair to the bed.

“Whose is this?”

“Joonie’s.”

He burrows his nose in your shoulder.

“Ugh, did Namjoon start wearing some weird ass cologne? It stinks.”

You frown, looking at your still-unpacked bag.

“I don’t wanna unpack tonight.”

“You can sleep naked,” he shrugs.

You choke.

“What?”

He chuckles, “I don’t mean it like that — I mean I can — I mean…” He fights back a smile. “I just want you to be comfortable.”

“I’m always comfortable with you, Hobi.”

He smiles down at you, although you notice the small tenseness that dances at the corner of his eyes.  

“Here.” For the second time that day, one of your handsome friends is ripping off their t-shirt for you.

Can you help it when your gaze drifts over the smooth planes of his chest, watching as his muscles dance and pull as he tugs the shirt over his head? No. You absolutely cannot help it. J-hope’s hot body is right.

Once he’s topless, he hands his still warm shirt over to you. You move quickly, tugging Namjoon’s shirt over your head. Hobi freezes. Only for a second though.    

“Oh— Ah,” he fumbles, turning around quickly.

“You know… it’s okay to look?”

“Ah, I know.”

“You know? Then look.”

Your friend hesitates for a moment before turning slowly, letting his gaze rove over your softening features first before drifting down, taking in the planes and bumps and soft features of your body. He smiles softly, before letting his gaze flick back up your eyes.

“You’re beautiful, you know that right?”

“I know,” you say slyly, pulling his shirt over your chest.

“Good.”

With that, you flop onto the oversized bed, starfishing for a moment before crawling up to the head and slipping beneath the covers.  

He smiles so warmly at you — a kind of soft and familiar knowing pulling at the edges of his eyes — and all you can think about is the unnamed thing that tugs at your gut as you think about tonight.

If only he had been there.

It’s not as if you owe him anything. It’s not as if you had spent a lot of time thinking about what it would be to let Hobi into your bed — to keep him there — to let him fuck you hard and long and sweet and softly. Well, you had. You had thought about it a lot.

You smile as you watch Hobi settle into the bed. Right now, you don’t want to think so much about it. About the strange space that has opened within you. A space that holds the sensation of Jungkook filling you while Jimin pressed himself against you, grabbed your chin, and kissed you. A space that holds that yearning desire for more. A space that enjoys being looked at, being caught, one that wants to replay the dark look in Hobi’s eyes as he took you in before him, bare and willing, over and over. A space that holds the rolling list of questions and doubts about what you’ve just done, the doubts you’ve just introduced into your friendships.

“Goodnight, dear friend,” Hoseok sighs, sleep already overtaking his voice.

“Goodnight, Hobi.”

There’s no such thing as regret. Jungkook’s words ring in your ears.

You flop on your back with a little huff. You are confused and horny. So fucking horny. Conforny, you think. It has a perfectly horrible ring to it.

When you look over, he has pulled the covers all the way up to his ears, wrapping himself in a tight bundle. You scooch over to him, burrowing close to his body heat, wrapping yourself around his sleeping form, face pressed against his blanket-wrapped back.

Before you can think about what you’re doing, you press a kiss to the blanket that separates you. You’re not sure why. Perhaps it doesn’t matter. Either way, in the morning, you’ll wonder why you dreamt it, and that way an unnamable warmth spreads through you.

It’s so dark.

The sound of water dripping slowly onto old stones ricochets around you. The cold grasp of a draft, risen from somewhere deep and dark, brushes against your bare skin. You’re so cold. You try to sit up but you can’t.

Ropes. There, wrapped tightly around your limbs, is an intricate pattern of cording, binding you to a thick slab of cold wood.

“I’ve been waiting for this forever,” a deep voice echoes through the chamber.

“Who’s there?” you call, your voice sounding strange and distorted against the old stone walls.

A shadow steps out from the darkness, but you can’t seem to make out his face. The moonlight that shines through from some unknown source lights familiar dark curls, but still, you can’t quite place it.

“You look so perfect spread out like this, just waiting for me. How long have you been here for?” he asks. “Forever,” you mumble back.

Suddenly, he’s reaching for you, tracing a finger down from the tip of your nose, down your bare chest, all the way down your belly to your pussy.

“So, pretty,” he hums. He dips a finger into your waiting heat, before lifting it to your lips. “Suck.”

And then he’s untying you. The ropes unravel in his hands, and he helps you stand, your legs so wobbly beneath you.

“Thank you,” you start to say, but suddenly he’s pushing you backwards, and you stumble, your back hitting the cold stone of the wall. He grabs your hands pulling them above your head, binding them to each other, and then to the wall.

“Did you really think I would let you go this easily?” With a swift movement, he kicks your legs apart, leaving you bare and exposed to him. “You look so perfect like this, all spread out for me. Just waiting to be fucked, to be filled with my cock. You’ve been waiting for me, haven’t you?”

You find yourself nodding.

“You’ve been preparing yourself for me?”

You nod.

He reaches down, swiping two fingers through your slick heat. He withdraws them and brings them up to his lips before popping them into his mouth and sucking.

“Like honey, just for me.”

“I want you, Taehyung,” you’re groaning.

Suddenly, the moonlight is flashing across his face — those familiar eyes flashing with mischief and intelligence, and you can see him grinning. In a quick movement, he is reaching down, undoing his belt and pulling out his thick, long cock. Ever so slowly, he wraps his hand around the base, long fingers rolling gracefully around the length before leisurely stroking himself.

He lodges the tip against your clit and suddenly you are exploding with sensation. The pressure is enough to send shocks of electricity up your spine. With an expert grasp, he guides himself through your folds, drawing a stuttered sigh from you.

“You’re so wet for me,” he murmurs.

“Kiss me,” you say.

“No.”

“Then fuck me.”

Finally, finally, he sheaths himself inside you, the brush of his breath against your ear desperate as he relishes in the feeling of you squeezing around him.

“Shit, just like I remembered,” he grunts, finally starting to thrust into you. Each movement stokes the fire within you, bringing you closer and closer to release, till suddenly you’re there, standing at the electric proximity of the edge of the cliff and—

The bell is tolling.

Once, then twice. When you look up, Taehyung is gone and you are alone, still shackled to the wall.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The sound shatters through your consciousness. It is unending.

Until you open your eyes.

“Breakfast!” Jin calls, clanging the breakfast bell.

“Motherfucker,” you hiss, stretching your neck and sitting up from the altogether too comfortable mattress.

There’s not even a chance to be self-conscious.

As you shuffle into the kitchen, Jungkook nearly lunges at you, wrapping himself around your back — perhaps a little too familiar to the way he held you last night — and whispers in your ear.

“I see those gears turning. We’re fine.”

“Really?” you can’t help but ask.

“Really. Dandy even. If not just a little bit sexually frustrat—”

“Goooooood morning,” Jin sings, popping up from behind the island and surprising you. He slaps his hands down on the counter (exactly where yours were just a few hours ago as Jungkook fucked you) and leans towards Taehyung to press a kiss to his cheek, who blushes as pink as a new bride, despite their three year relationship.

“Good morning, you lovebirds,” Jimin sings as he glides into the kitchen. Jin and Taehyung grin back at him, but Jimin’s eyes are locked on you and Jungkook. You shoot him a glare that screams don’t-you-even-dare.

“What happened to my shirt?” Namjoon asks. “You looked so good in it.”

“Better than you, that’s for sure,” Yoongi cuts in.

“They wore mine to bed,” Hobi mutters sleepily, rubbing at his eyes as he pours a cup of coffee.

“Why?”

“Yours smelt weird.”

Namjoon huffs as if personally offended, but accepts the steaming mug that Hoseok offers to him.

“You just like it when they wear your clothes.”

“Of course I do, who doesn’t like to see their friend waddling around in their oversized t-shirt?” Namjoon grumbles.

Everyone turns to look at him.

“What?” Yoongi asks. 

“Hey—” you cut in. “No playing favorites.” Even as you say the words, you feel the sharp twist of guilt in your gut. You had always been careful to pay each of your friends equal if not unique attention. But now, with Jungkook wrapped around you, hands pressing into your belly in an all-too-familiar way and the way that Jimin’s eyes are raking over you — so similarly to the way that they had last night — you can’t help but wonder if you’ve completely messed up the careful balance that you had come to create within your little group of friends. “If you all want to organize a wardrobe of only your clothes for me, I would be more than happy to oblige you.”

Your friends chuckle, and as you look over them, you can tell that more than a few of them are seriously considering your joking proposal.

“Have you looked outside yet?” Namjoon says. “I know you got here pretty late last night.”

“No, I haven’t.”

Namjoon sweeps you out of a begrudging Jungkook’s hold. “This way.” He guides you towards the living room and the huge bay windows. “I’ll show you.”

After breakfast, the others peel off to their separate rooms and responsibilities. As you finish putting away the now-sparkling plates that housed the delicious, orangy Crepes Suzettes that Jin had cooked for you all, Jimin slides up to the counter beside you.

“Hi, baby” he grins.

“Hi.”

He holds up a pair of hiking boots, obviously pulled from your suitcase. “Put these on.”

“Why?”

“Let’s get you out of here. We’re going hiking.”

“How can you be grumpy on a beautiful day like this?”

Jimin sweeps his hand over the beautiful overlook you’ve just reached. You’re still panting from the steep climb, but you can clearly admit that it’s beautiful.

Below you, the mountainous valley is painted in light green, gold, and burnished red. The trees are turning slowly this year, but in the city you never get to see this much nature, at least not all at once. As the valley dips lower, the colors begin to blend until it looks like a painting.

“I had another sex dream,” you grumble.

“Another one? Who was it this time?”

“Taehyung.”

“Oof. You’re really working through the whole group like clockwork, aren’t you?”

“Seems like it. I don’t mind them, but to wake up and not be able to do anything about... it.”

“Then do something about it.”

“You seem pretty eager to tell me what to do, don’t you?” He just grins at you, before turning back to the view. “I’ll be honest,” you say, leaning up against the tree. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Hm?” Jimin hums, not fully turned towards you.

“You know, the whole power thing. There was always a part of me that thought you would be more of a sub.”

You fight your smile when he perks up at the last word. You have his full attention now.

“A sub?”

“Mhmm.”

He turns towards you.

“What made you think I was more of a sub?”

Now that you’re on a roll, there’s no going back. It’s always been like this with you and Jimin; the two of you share a closeness that makes it easy to laugh together at the ridiculous and the obscene, easy to make sex jokes about the way Jin slurped up his noodles or to theorize about how each of your friends was in bed. And there’d always been that little hint of darkness playing at the edge of your jokes, teasing the other with the ever-present question: just how far are you willing to push it?

“I don’t know, there’s just something about you that makes you so... angelic.” Jimin snorts. “Really! I mean it. You’re always so quick to make others feel good.”

“I think you might have some of your wires crossed about exactly what a dom is meant to be in the bedroom.”

“What do you mean?”

He steps towards you. When he speaks, there’s a clarity to his language, but also that edge again, that delightful, devilish, teasing edge.

“It’s not just about taking what you want. In fact, that’s not it at all. It’s about having someone trust you enough to hand over the control of their pleasure.  When they allow me to be in control of how long to draw it out, how deep to let them dive. And to give me the privilege to account for their needs too.”

“That sounds nice,” you say, breathily.

“Does it?”

He’s standing so close to you now. He reaches for your hand, intertwining it in his own.  

“Y-yeah.”

“Is it something you’d like to try?” There’s that gleam in his eye again, even as he so innocently plays with your hand in his.

“What?”

“I know last night was a little bit spontaneous and maybe there should have been a little more conversation before everything happened but—”

“Last night was perfect,” you cut in. “If not…. Frustrating.”

“You still haven’t cum, huh.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement.

“Ffff—” you sputter. “I—”

“Kookie didn’t take care of you in the way you needed?” His tone has turned mischievous again. “I bet he went to bed and came all over his hand thinking of you and how it felt to finally sink into that tight little cunt, while you had to go to bed next to another man, still wishing someone else was inside you.”

Your jaw drops.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

It takes a moment for you to gather your words again, and then you’re saying: “I mean, that’s not the full picture.”

“I didn’t say anything about the full picture. If we’re talking full picture, then let’s talk about how I didn’t get to play with either of you in just the way I’ve been wanting to for so long.”

Heat floods your abdomen and you gulp.

“Really?”

“Really.”

Jimin plucks a blood read leaf out of your hair, spinning it in his fingers before letting it drift to the ground.

You watch it flutter like a bird wing to the rainbow of leaves that carpet the forest floor. “Then let’s play,” you murmur. “I think both of our interests were clearly established last night.”

Jimin raises a curious eyebrow.

“Oh?”

“What, you didn’t notice how hard Jungkook got as soon as you walked in the room? How he fell apart as soon as you touched him?”

“And what about you?”

“All I could think of was having you closer.” You reach out to tug him closer. “All I could think about was you, on top of me, all over me, inside of me.”

Jimin sucks in a sharp breath, his lips fluttering ever-so-close to yours. But he doesn’t close the distance.  

“Then it seems as if we ought to do something about making that wish a reality.”

“It seems so.”

All at once, his lips are crashing against yours. Whereas Jungkook’s kiss had been furious and fluttering, Jimin presses with intensity and control into you. He steps close enough to push you up against the tree, his hands coming to rest on your waist, and dig into your flesh.

You gasp together, your hands roving and exploring over the angles of his body while his press you ever closer to him until there’s nowhere left to go. Your eyes flutter closed, relishing in the feeling of his hand drawing ever upward, to tentatively cup at your breast. You let your hands draw up his chest until you can push him away just enough to speak. He takes the opportunity to latch onto your neck, nibbling and biting his way down until he can feel you squirm against him. That’s the spot, he thinks as you gasp for air. “Please, Jimin, I need you, I can’t take it anymore.”

You can feel his lips curl into a smile against your neck.

“I thought you liked being told what to do, kitten.” For a second your gaze is caught on how fucked out he looks: hair mused, eyes dark, lips already slightly swollen.  

“I-I do.”

“Then let me take the reins, yeah? Let me make you feel good.” His hands tug at the band of your jeans, running around the circumference until they meet the button. “Take these off. Let me touch you.”

You don’t need to be asked twice. With haste, you unbutton your pants, and he pushes them down just enough to have access to you.

“No panties, huh.”

“You asked me to get dressed in a rush.” He smirks at you and you know that something’s brewing in his mind. “What?”

“What if I asked you to forego panties for the rest of our time up here?” Your jaw falls slack. “Would you listen to me, baby?” he asks, his voice laced with saccharine honey as he presses a kiss to your lips. “Would you do what I ask?”

You don’t even think about it before you respond. “Y-yes.”

“Good.” He grins. “I like your enthusiasm. But I was thinking. Let’s play a game.”

“Anything.”

“Do you trust I know how to give you the orgasm you deserve?”

You pause.

Based on the way Jimin’s fingers are expertly currently tracing over your lower belly, and the intensity of the pleasure he was able to draw from you last night, you have no reason to doubt him. Quite the opposite, really.

“Yes,” you say slowly. “Then I want you to do everything I say. Listen, and you’ll get your reward. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“That’s a good little kitten.”

“For now, I just want you to do nothing but enjoy this, okay?”

“Okay.” Your breath flutters.

“And if you want me to stop at any point, you just tell me. Understood?”

“Understood.”

In a strange mirror of your dream last night, he dips two fingers into you. You cry at the euphoric intrusion, finally touched after so many hours with this horrible desire building in you. But before you can relish in the feeling, he’s pulling out again and bringing the soaking digits to his lips. He sucks them clean.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Just like I imagined.”

“You’re so much filthier than I ever imagined.”

“You should have done a better job guessing then.”

Before you can complain about the absence of his touch, he’s kneeling before you, pushing your jeans out of the way and pressing his nose against your mound. He places a kiss, right here, and another one on your inner thigh. And then he nips at the skin there and you yelp, the small prick of pain shooting sparks of pleasure towards your core. You throw your head back, but Jimin is quick to dig his fingers into your hip to force your attention back to him.

“Look at me when I’m eating you out,” he orders. “It’s only polite.”

You nod, taking a shaky breath and looking down at him, unbelieving of the fact that he still hasn’t touched your cunt, and yet it feels as if you could be gushing like a waterfall down your legs. An overstatement, of course, but an accurate one at that.

Knowing he has your full attention, Jimin leans forward and licks a broad strip up your satin core. He presses his tongue against your lower lips as you do your best not to squirm against his vice-like hold.

“Fuck,” you hiss.

“Mind your language, kitten.”

“Yessir.” It falls out of you before you know what you’re saying.

“Not my usual flavor, but we’ll talk about that later.”

Before you can respond, he’s dipping back into your folds, tongue flicking against your cunt before gliding back to your entrance and prodding inside.

“Please,” you hiss and curl your hand into his hair.

“You want more?”

“Please, god.”

For a moment, he only lets the butterfly touch of his breath flutter against you, drawing out your pleasure for just a moment before pressing his lips back to you and feeling you squirm against him. He removes one of his hands from your hips to draw a finger back and forth through your folds as he suckles at your clit.

It surprises you when he begins to push into you.

“Oh,” you breathe, your hips searching out even more despite the overwhelm that swirls through your mind.

“You sound like heaven. But I need you to stay still.”

You can’t help it though, you buck up into him, chasing the sensation of him inside you. So, he moves his hand from your hips to your stomach, pressing you back into the tree.

With other lovers, this position was always a position of control for you. Someone lapping greedily at your folds while you stood above them had always sent a ripple of power through your system. But with Jimin, it is entirely different. With his eyes locked on yours, his hand digging into the flesh of your stomach, you are at the every whim and will of the man beneath you. His tongue guides and gives your pleasure, not you.

He adds a second finger, pumping you into a delirium before adding a third finger, which he hooks and presses into that soft spot within you. You arch devilishly, a silent scream rushing through you.

“Jimin, Jimin, I’m cumming, I’m cumming!”

You’re so close, just a second more, and then—

Empty. You’re empty again.

When you look down, Jimin is pulling his fingers out of his mouth with a pop and grinning up at you.

You reach down towards your clit, desperate to chase the already departing rays of pleasure— but Jimin stands faster than you, grabbing your wrists and shoving you back against the bark of the tree. He keeps your hands caught between one of his and slams high above your head.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“But—”

“Don’t you remember you agreed to this little game? Listen and you’ll get your reward.”

“Why?” you all but sob.

Leaning so close to you the brush of his words tickles your lips, he murmurs: "If I give you what you want right now, how can I guarantee you’ll come back for more? I don’t gamble, and even if I did, I don’t like those odds." With that, he steps back from you, righting his shirt and hair. “And that means no cumming until I say so.”

“Fuck you, Park Jimin,” you shout as you button up your pants.

“Won’t you trust me with this one?” He steps closer to you, taking your chin between his thumb and his index finger. “Won’t you trust me to give you the best orgasm you’ve ever had?”

You frown.

“Don’t worry, kitten. I won’t make you wait long.”

<- || series m.list || ->

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[elcorhamletlive]

fandom: MCU (Post-Avengers) relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Bruce Banner & Clint Barton & Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark & Thor, Nick Fury & Avengers Team, Maria Hill & Avengers Team, Nick Fury & Tony Stark tags: POV Outsider, Fluff and Humor, Team Feels, Truth Serum My fic for the Holiday Exchange, for talesofsuspense! Summary: “Look, I’m not thrilled by the prospect of spending my day here either," Nick said, "but there’s no postponing this. We can’t give them a chance to combine stories.”

“Right,” Hill said. “And I’m sure they’ll all be very…cooperative.”

“Hope you didn’t have any dinner plans."

Hill’s sigh mirrored his own so much it was unnerving. “Okay.” She leaned forward and pressed a button on his desk. “Send in the first one.”

Hill flipped through the pages, making the already thin folder appear even smaller. “Not much of a starting point,” she said.

Nick leaned back in his chair. “No,” he agreed. The report from Stark’s A.I. was very brief, and the rest was just what the scavenging team managed to comb through from the quinjet debris. “The press will not be satisfied with that. And there is a key part missing. We deliver this to the Council, they laugh in our faces.”

Hill raised an eyebrow at him. “So our job is to make the folder thicker?”

“Our job is to understand what happened,” he replied. “So we can deliver them something slightly more coherent, and they can feed the reporters whatever they want.”

“And you think this will work?” Hill gestured to the room around them. Across the desk where she was sitting, on a perfect diagonal view from Nick’s eye, there was a single, empty chair. “Seems like a criminal interrogation.”

“Maybe it is,” Nick said. He wasn’t sure if the superficial report was an intentional cover up or just plain sloppiness – both were equally likely when you had people like Romanoff or Stark in the middle of an OP – but at the end of the day, it didn’t matter. There was a hole in the story, and the World Security Council didn’t deal with holes. “Look, I’m not thrilled by the prospect of spending my day here either, but there’s no postponing this. We can’t give them a chance to combine stories.”

“Right,” Hill said. “And I’m sure they’ll all be very… cooperative.”

“Hope you didn’t have any dinner plans,” Nick quipped.

Hill’s sigh mirrored his own so much it was unnerving. “Okay.” She leaned forward and pressed a button on his desk. “Send in the first one.”

-

“There isn’t much to tell,” Romanoff said, and, if Nick wasn’t sure there was something being hidden before, now he did. “I believe JARVIS sent you a detailed account, didn’t he?”

“Depending on what you consider ‘detailed,’” Nick replied. The report had extensively covered the material damage to the quinjet, as well as the information pertaining to AIM’s plan and how it related to it. It was just lacking in the “explanations” department, and it seemed to jump in key time periods between events very hurriedly. Either Stark’s robot was a shit storyteller, or the human factor (specifically the “what the fuck were your team of freaks thinking to let something like this happen, director?” factor) had been strategically avoided.

And there was the matter of the tapes. The security footage recovered from AIM’s quinjet seemed to cover just about every angle of the battle - that is, up until a point right where everything just faded to static before it returned just in time to record the crash.

“This is standard procedure,” he continued as Romanoff’s eyes studied him attentively. “Which, I’d like to stress, is actually a kind way to go about it.” Romanoff quirked an eyebrow at him. “The Avengers initiative isn’t the most popular plan SHIELD has ever come up with, agent. To the world, you might be celebrities, but a lot of people on the inside see you as - how did Banner put it? Oh, yeah - a time-bomb.”

Romanoff smiled. “We’ve made it work so far.”

“Only barely,” Nick said. Romanoff didn’t deny it, nor could she - ever since they had all decided to stay at Stark’s tower, after the battle of New York, Nick had kept his eye close on their performances, be it on the field or with the press, and though the initial animosity seemed to have lessened, they were still a far cry from a synchronized, united team.

The Council had been against them moving in together - there was just too much potential for the proximity to make things go south again - but Nick had argued in favor, and they ultimately decided to allow it. Nick himself knew he was making a risky bet, but at the end of the day, he figured a bunch of anti social people on the edge of normal society had a better chance of making it as a team if they could at least learn how to deal with each other on a friendly basis. And Stark putting the damn A on the tower was as close as he’d ever get to admitting he wanted the company, so Nick didn’t want to deny him it. Hill had a laugh at his expense, then, saying he was getting old and soft.

None of them knew about any of this, of course, and they would never find out. But if Nick Fury made a bet, he wanted to ensure it’d pay off, and crashing a quinjet belonging to one the world’s largest weapons manufacturers in the middle of rural property of the some of the richest people in America was far from a reward, especially while keeping potentially vital bits of information in the dark. That wouldn’t do, and he was determined to get the full picture of what had gone down, whether they liked or not.

“Why don’t you start at the beginning, agent?” Hill suggested.

Romanoff’s eyes blinked astutely before she smiled. “Of course,” she said, much more kindly than Nick would have anticipated. “It started at the fair.”

-

“I wouldn’t normally have come,” Dr. Banner said, straightening his glasses. “The events we get invited to, they're… not my usual scene.”

“Too many reporters?” Nick asked. He knew Banner wasn’t the press’ favorite target - Stark and Rogers, both recipients of huge celebrity fame way before anyone added superhero worship into the mix, were tied up for that position - but he also knew the Avengers in general were the go-to topic for any gossip show running out of material. The fascination with them pendulumed from healthy curiosity to obsessive speculation way too often for Nick’s liking.

“Too many people,” Banner said, with a nervous smile. “The other guy doesn’t like crowds. But AIM said they were interested in having me and Tony speak. ‘The science bros.’” He made air quotes. “Or something. And, well, it was a nice idea to hang on a science exposition. I looked through the flier, and there were some interesting exhibits.”

-

“The whole thing was just a blatant rip off of the Stark Expo. But you know how it goes – imitation, flattery, yadda yadda.” Stark leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the desk as if it was his office. “So, we get the invite, and, not going to lie, I was a little curious. Pep said we should make an appearance, smile a little, make niceties – but, well, you know me.”

Nick raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by the display. “We do?”

Stark smiled. “I don’t like to do things halfway. I’m just not built for it.” He shrugged. “So I decided to come, and I thought it would be good if everyone else came too, and that we should try out some of the exhibits together – team bonding, you know? Sometimes it’s nice.”

-

“Stark wanted to show off,” Barton said, taking a sip of his water. “He thought there was no way Hammer’s people could organize something on that scale, and he wanted to drag us all there to see it because he was sure it would end up being a huge mess.” He sighed. “I guess at the end of the day, he wasn’t wrong.”

-

Rogers’ jaw clenched so hard Nick thought he’d pull a muscle. “Everything went normally. We got there, took some pictures, got inside… Nothing out of the ordinary.” He looked at Hill. “But, like I said, this is all in JARVIS’ report.”

“Right,” Nick replied. He tilted his head to get a better look. Rogers was as tense as a wood board, and his effort to not let it show made things a lot worse. “I have to say, Cap, I was a little surprised to not get the usual report coming from you.”

Rogers shifted on the chair. “Tony—” He cleared his throat. “We, uh, we thought JARVIS would make one more quickly.” His eyes turned towards Fury, defiant. “From what I understand, every piece of information the Council needs should be in that file.”

“Need and want are two very different things,” Nick said. Rogers took a deep breath, and Nick couldn’t help but frown. “So, you guys started to mingle, right?” he asked, wanting things to get back on track. “That was when you decided to go to Hammer’s stand?”

“Yes. He… invited us.” He paused. “Well, Tony, at least.”

“Right,” Nick said. “But you also ended up going, right?” Rogers gave a reluctant nod. “Why?”

There was a moment of silence, and Rogers said, “It seemed like it could be an interesting experience.”

-

“Stark dared him to do it,” Thor stated bluntly. “Said Steven was probably too scared to lose to him.” He smiled, amused. Nick was fighting against the urge to underestimate him, but boy, was it hard. “It reminded me of some of my disputes with my brother, when we were both younglings and daring ourselves to attempt to steal Heimdall’s helmet.”

“Well, that’s a nice thing to hear about two adults who are constantly in charge of saving the world,” Nick deadpanned.

Thor looked at him disapprovingly. “They are worthy warriors,” he said. “They just… get a little wrapped up in their blind spots, sometimes.” Nick and Hill stared at him questioningly, and Thor looked away, coughing on his hand. “Uh, well, where was I? Right – the stand.”

-

“It was a silly concept – melt stuff with our new laser project, whoever melts the most wins, woohoo! - but I’ll admit it seemed like it could be fun. It took place in a separate room, though, and they were only letting two people in at once.” Stark straightened his tie, looking away from Nick for the first time since he walked inside the office. “So me and Cap decided to try it out.”

“Why just the two of you?” Hill asked, precise as a whip.

Stark stayed focused on his tie. “Well, I wanted to check out what was so great that Hammer was showing off in public. As for Cap, who knows? You should probably ask him.”

“So it was a spontaneous thing?” Nick pushed. “You didn’t ask him to come along?”

Finally, Stark looked at him. For a second, his expression was downright defiant. Then it all melted away in a shrug. “I might’ve. I wasn’t driving back home, you know? So I had a few drinks, and I was saying a lot of things, and maybe I asked if he wanted to try it out.”

“We heard you dared him,” Nick countered. Normally he wouldn’t put the cards on the table like that, but something in Stark seemed to favor a more direct approach.

Stark’s expression didn’t change. “Again, I might’ve. What’s life without a little challenge, right? But, still, if you want to know why he came in the stand, you should probably ask him.” His eyes darted towards the window, avoiding Nick and Hill. “Maybe he just… needed a distraction. He hates those things.” Nick tilted his head, noticing the strange thoughtfulness in his voice, but as soon as it came it was gone, and Stark was rambling at rapid fire speed again. “Anyway, I suppose this is where I get to the gas, right?”

-

Hill turned a page of the folder. “This is where the truth serum got them, right?”

Barton gave them a lopsided smile. “Stark would blow a fuse if he heard you calling it that,” he said. “But, yeah. Exactly.”

read the rest on ao3!

[simkaswriting]

Yoga-(Steve Rogers)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: a lot of thirst(not NSFW), swearing, a shirtless and sweaty Steve :)))

Summary: Natasha helps you with yoga whilst a shirtless Steve boxes a few feet away from you. That puts an idea into her head.

A/N: This was just a fun little thing that popped into my head and I just needed to write it. Hope you guys enjoy, and remember to leave some feedback, I’d love to hear what you thought!

Agreeing to let Natasha, Black Widow herself, help me with yoga was a mistake from the beginning. First, she is the most flexible woman I have ever laid eyes on. Second, I’m really not all that flexible. And third, I didn’t expect for us to have any company. Especially not the shirtless God that is Steve Rogers boxing in the corner of the gym. 

“Okay, now try and copy me. Don’t push yourself, but go as far as you dare.” Natasha places her forearms and head onto her mat, and slowly kicks off the ground. She quickly straightens out both her legs and back, so she’s just balancing on her forearms and head. It looks near enough impossible, yet she makes it seem effortless.

I copy her stance, and manage to hold the same pose as her for about five seconds before I topple over with a groan. It’s been weeks since we’ve started doing yoga together. And sure, I’ve made a lot of progress, but my balance is still way off.

“That was pretty good, let’s take a break. We’ve been at this for quite some time.” She chuckles and sits down on her mat. Her phone buzzes so she goes to check it out. 

Speaking of checking things out, my eyes naturally travel to Steve. 

It’s beyond me how I’ve managed to do any yoga at all with him in the room, looking as good as he currently looks. Shirtless and covered in sweat, occasionally grunting when he hits a bag particularly hard. It’s the best distraction in the world, and also the reason why I’ve not been able to concentrate at all today. 

“Careful, you’ve got a little bit of drool going on there.” Natasha teases, her eyes playful, having noticed my not-so-subtle ogling. 

I reluctantly look away from the Captain to glare at her. 

“Very funny. Honestly, so hilarious. I’ll have you know I was checking out the lights, just making sure all are in good and working order.” My hand absentmindedly wipes at the corners of my mouth.

She laughs and shakes her head as she stands back up. 

“Sure, the lights. Whatever helps you sleep at night. But really, I don’t blame you. He is a sight for sore eyes. Just not mine.”

I also stand up, ready to continue our session. If I ignore her teasing, it should ease up.

“Take a deep breath, and then we’re slowly going into the downward dog.”

I do as she says, place my feet slightly apart, and bend over. She comes to stand behind me and places her hand on my back to keep it straight, and holds it there. Believe it or not, it’s very difficult to keep a straight back in this position. Her other hand rests on my hip.

“Hey Steve!” She shouts over to him, and he stops his boxing, looking over to us. Immediately, I feel heat rush to my cheeks. What is she doing? Her hand presses against my lower back harder, so I can’t get up.

“Yeah?”

“Can you come hold her down for a few minutes? Clint said he needs my help with something.” She calls to him, but I can hear the mischief in her voice. She definitely planned this.

He walks over, the lights catching beads of sweat all over his body and I have to bite my lip to physically stop myself from groaning. This man should really not be allowed to be shirtless in the company of women. 

“You okay with this (Y/N)?” He asks, frowning as he sees that one of Nats hands is on my waist while the other is pressing my back down a little. 

Oh, the clever little bitch. 

“Yup.” I pop the ‘p’. I’m almost certain that my brain wouldn’t be capable of producing a full coherent sentence with him standing this close. 

Natasha takes his hands in hers and places them where hers were. She shows him how to properly apply the pressure. The, she walks out of the gym, but not before throwing a quick wink in my direction.

For a few seconds it’s quiet. Neither of us know what to say. Sure, we’ve been friends for a long time, just never this physical outside of training or actual missions. So this is new for the both of us. 

Steve clears his throat. “ Are you sure this is okay? I don’t want to-”

“Steve, it’s fine. Don’t worry. It’s a, uh, different position I suppose. But we train together all the time.” I try my best at reassuring him, but even I can’t deny that the position we’re currently in is making my thoughts run wild. My ass near his crotch? His hand gripping my hip? Just Steve shirtless? It’s like a scene from the dream I had on Thursday. 

Granted, he’s probably only asking because he’s a gentleman. 

I hear a soft ‘hmm’ from him, and then we’re quiet again. For a few minutes we just stay in the position, my muscles burning and my imagination loving the view. He just looks so good without a shirt. To be fair, he also looks good even with layers upon layers of clothing. He’s truly the most attractive man I’ve ever laid my eyes on. And that’s no understatement. 

 I would pay good money to know what’s going through his mind right now.

We’re both snapped out of our thoughts when the door to the gym opens and Bucky and Sam walk in, both with a towel around their necks and boxing gloves on. They stop dead in their tracks to take us both in, me bent over and Steve standing behind me and holding my hip.

Bucky breaks out into a grin, and Sam narrows his eyes. He clears his throat. “Did we interrupt something?”

Steve looks down at me, and I nod. He lets go of me and I slowly stand back up, fighting a groan at how much my muscles ache. I do everything in my power to not make eye contact with any of the men, so I just grab my phone and start texting Nat. Steve can deal with this one.

“Uh, yes, I-I mean n-no. No, you didn’t.” He stutters much to the guys amusement. His face is now as red as mines must have been a few minutes ago. I quickly fire texts to Nat.

‘You’re evil. Pure evil.’

I immediately get a reply. 

‘Oh, don’t pretend like you weren’t daydreaming about it anyways ;)’

I feel my face getting hot again. 

“Sure. Well, sorry to bust up your little... whatever that was, but we’re here to actually train.” Sam motions to us two with a smirk, before the two walk to the other side of the gym. I don’t miss Bucky giving Steve a thumbs-up. 

I choose to ignore it, and instead bend down to roll up my mat, but a sharp pain shoots through my shoulder down to my shoulder blade. I hiss and go to roll my arm to asses the damage, but that just worsens it. I’d successfully managed to pull a muscle.

Steve furrows his brows. “What’s wrong?”

I bite my lip, another groan fighting it’s way up my throat. Beads of sweat begin to appear over my forehead as the pain gets worse. I shake my head no.

“I pulled a muscle. Fuck, it hurts.”

He rolls up the mat for me while I just stand there. The pain isn’t the worst I’ve felt before, after all the entire team’s been shot at least once, including me. But handling pain has never been my strongest suit. 

“Do you, well... I mean... I could give you a massage?” Steve asks hesitantly. His ears are a bit red, and it brings a tired smile to my face. My heart is in my throat, and the pain is making me borderline careless. 

“A massage from Captain America himself? How could I ever say no?” 

Steve chuckles. It’s now or never, right?

“However, I could think of something else that could help with the pain.” I bite my lip, looking directly into his eyes for the first time since Natasha pulled this little stunt.

He smiles a little. “Of course, what is it (Y/N)?”

I take a step closer to him. And before I can chicken out I throw on a confident smile. “Kiss me.”

I watch his face for a few seconds. It goes from shock, to a look of realisation, and then to a bashful smile that makes my heart hammer so hard it might just leap out of my chest. 

“Anything to help a dame like yourself.” He says softly, before gently placing his lips on mine. 

His lips are warm and soft unlike mine, they taste of menthol and vaguely salty of sweat, a weird yet intoxicating combination. His hands slowly take mines in his and intertwines our fingers. A spark ignites inside of me, one full of desire and life, so intense it makes me go weak at the knees. It’s like the last few months have been leading up to this moment.

He pulls away first. His eyes, laced with uncertainty and hesitation, begin to scan my face. Almost as if he’s waiting for me to slap him or throw insults in his face. Instead, I smile at him. 

“I still want that massage though.”

[killingeveperspectives]

Perspectives: Season 2 committed to the characters it established.

The plot had so many holes that it was basically a strainer, but I felt the character exploration was strong. I loved the idea that Villanelle meets another psychopath and they have this moment of mutual understanding, of belonging. Shout out, to that scene when they are both sitting on the sofa and just staring at the camera with the realization that they are the same. They really were equals; the camera work shows us this much. Same level, same frame, warm light, wide shot zooming out. Distinctively intimate. Eve was never shown this way with Villanelle because, despite their mutual attraction, they are psychologically distant.

Let’s collectively acknowledge that the whole Data selling plot made absolutely no sense. Carolyn say the operation was strictly Moscow rules then they proceed to break cover and text each other all the time and Aaron would have figured the whole thing out in 5 minutes if he had indeed tracked Billie down (Speaking of surveillance, shout out to the odd camera angles that felt like we were spying on them. Nice touch) But we needed an excuse for Villanelle to meet another psychopath and for Eve and Villanelle to come closer. And for Jodie Comer to give PSA monologue on what is like to be a psychopath.

Actually, we spent this season really invested in hammering down what it means to be a psychopath to the audience, trying to make us understand what Villanelle is and how she functions. They even went as far as giving the audience a power point presentation. Eve is an object to her. A thing that gave her feelings. A thing for her to collect and own and use as she wanted, even though in her head she might genuinely call it love. And to be discarded when they weren’t complacent or needed. The show bluntly tells us “Stop trying to understand her. It’s like trying to understand a wasp.”, take her at face value. The writers seemed to be begging us not to romanticize her, and in good reverse psychology we did, then got upset when things turned out to be exactly the way we were told they would.

However, I loved the honesty of the glimpse into Villanelle’s interior life during the AA meeting. I feel like Jodie Comer might as well have gotten the Emmy because of that monologue. She was not angry, or sad, or hurt, but bored. Desperate to feel anything, but does she even know how? It must be an agonizing existence. Truth and lie were difficult concepts for her, she really can’t grasp the relevance of the distinction. It was a gentle and tender treatment of the character. The show just wanted us to know. It did not ask us to do anything about it. I really appreciated this moment.

Meanwhile Eve’s identity continues to shatter. More and more Eve questions: “why am I who you say I am?” Why am I Eve? Why am I Nico’s wife? Why am I kind? Why am I obsessed with a psychopath? Why am I like a psychopath? Is she really what others are saying she is? When they are all silent, who is she? Eve is starting to reclaim her own sense of identity and incorporate this newfound powerful aggression. When she goes to Gemma’s house, she is deliberately violent and dangerous. I think to say she is emulating Villanelle is a disservice. She was always entranced by violence, after Villanelle’s influence she is now embodying it. But her violence is hers to own. Give women that. There is a play with her hair and mirrors, as she struggles to tie it up or let it down and all it symbolizes. Is Eve submitting to the dark side of the force? (could star wars be any more subtle and sophisticated in its description of good and evil?) Eve is integrating her violence in her identity. Which is in itself a violent process. Painful. Exhilarating. All change is violent.

Their obsession was definitely played out more sexually than we will ever get to see again, I suppose. No wonder Eve gets very horny, in deconstructing herself Eve finds a rush of Vitality. And I’m all for the sexual release and all it symbolizes for the characters. But the show reminds us rather unceremoniously that, despite all the fun we are having,  Eve is transiently a psychological self-destructive mess, spiraling down; Villanelle is a murdering psychopath and things pan out exactly the only way they possibly could: destruction.

In the finale, the writers were the most radical, adhering uncompromisingly to the characters truths. Thus, they stubbornly followed through the only logical conclusion to the episode. A painfully honest exposition of the wretchedness of their dynamic. The confrontation of it was inevitable. The only way for Eve to be with Villanalle is to give herself up, to become a thing, that Villanelle would take care and own. Eve was this whole time in the opposite direction, finding her own sense of identity, embracing her own violence and danger, which brilliantly is the only thing that saves her from self-annihilation, represented by Villanelle. At this point nothing can justify Eve running off with Villanelle except a lobotomy. Nothing can justify Villanelle not killing Eve except I don’t know… Abducting Villanelle and replacing her with empathic, socially adjusted Oksana bot.

The show almost laughs at the audience: “Are you upset? What did you seriously think was going to happen?”. Sometimes, the most subversive thing to do, is do nothing. And here to the problem of subverting expectations. In our post GoT world subverting expectations became a dogma. Audiences want to be surprised, taken aback, instead of investing in a coherent story. We have become lazy with set up and pay off. The pay-off of the plot-twist is the plot-twist itself, regardless of set-up and implications. Subverting expectations became a drug we will take to tolerate inconsistencies. So here I commend the writers for betraying the audience instead of betraying the characters. This was not a love story. No matter how much the audience wanted to believe it was. She wanted to kill you, she wasn’t buying you cake. 

[sabine-leo]

Adaptation

Author: @sabine-leo

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston / ofc (You) special guest Benedict Cumberbatch 

Wordcount: 4980 

Warnings: none. Maybe just watch out for cavity ;) 

Summary: Your first novel became a bestseller and will be adapted to the big screen. Slightly out of your comfort zone you try to do your best as a 27 year old writer who is not accustomed to being the centre of attention. 

Note: This was a whish from @anchored-in-high-tide for her win in my 1k follower raffle! I do hope I did your idea justice !! Thank you for your trust!!! 

Feeling totally out of your comfort zone you stepped into the room anyway. Your book and a notepad tightly held against your chest in which your heart hammered slightly out of beat you took a seat and tried to calm yourself down with a deep breath. This was not your natural place to be. You liked closed rooms, not that you were claustrophobic but you preferred them with less…people. If someone had told you about a good year and a half ago how your life would change in just a month time and at the age of 27 you would have laughed and asked which meds they´d taken… But here you were, in a room full of important people whom had bought the rights to your FIRST published book that had become a phenomenon in weeks.  Gladly you´d had the wits to demand to be included in every decision and get a veto on everything regarding the storyline and possible changes. It was not easy to negotiate with them but in the end, they really did want to adept your book for the big screen and said yes to your proposal. You got to work on the script with some very talented writers and actually had a lot of fun doing that. NOW the part started where you were a lot more uncomfortable or better put nervous about.

“Let´s put faces to the characters you envisioned, shall we?”

The casting director said and smiled at you. 

Here we go… you thought and took a last calming breath.  

 In your head it was easy to envision the needed characters but in real life, not so much. You had seen some great actors for different roles and you knew that with cosmetics and wigs there could be done a lot to make sure they fit the bill but you wanted it to feel right. There was just one last role to cast and it was the most significant one to you. The actors you had seen so far did a good job but the spark was missing; The feeling of them getting the essence of the character and being able to add depth to it and not just perfectly saying the words in the script.

The door opened again as you were doodling something onto your notepad

“Hello…” a deep voice resonated through the room.

“…My name is Tom and I would like to audition for the role of Matthew. “

 You looked up and…did a double take. A soft chuckle came your way and he smilingly corrected the placement of his glasses. The casting director got her wits back together faster than you and asked.

“Mr. Hiddleston, we are honoured to meet you but you want WHAT?”

Tom grinned and repeated himself. “I want to audition for the role of Matthew.”

Looking around you were the only one who still was starstruck. The other faces were just looking flabbergasted at TOM HIDDLESTON who wanted to AUDITION.

“Frankly put, I think we are not able to meet your normal payroll…” The director said with a little blush on his face. Tom smiled and pointed to an empty chair. “May I?” He asked politely and sat down as he saw a silent nod coming from you.

 “I know this is an independent film and a smaller studio but that should not be the problem. I am deeply in love with this book and especially how Matthew is portrait. I´d love to take him on and if I may be frank as well. I´d be willing to co-produce and work some of my contacts to get us what we need to do justice to the book.” Tom looked at you and smiled. God, you wanted to hide behind your notepad as you felt a blush coming up. He met all the things you wanted for Matthew. He was tall, handsome and his eyes could say what words often could not. This man in front of you was able to tell a story with his body language and eyes alone.

NO. WORDS. NEEDED!

You loved the movies he had made so far and had seen him on stage too. Besides his -no doubt- very good looks he had a sharp mind and was well read and eloquent. A deadly combination if you were concerned.

 Tom took another breath. “I know you probably have to discuss my second proposal first. But please, let me at least audition and show you what I have prepared.” His charming smile hit you again. Jesus, one could think you were a writer that put all her words on paper and was not able to form a single coherent sentence out loud.

 Get a grip!  You ordered yourself and cleared your throat.

“I… I´m sorry. Hi, my name is (Y/N)…”

Tom stood to take your outstretched hand.

“I know who you are (Y/N)…you are the Author to this delightful book.”

The both of you shook hands and Tom looked at you as you tried to get your mouth to form more words while your brain was sending out misleading impulses. For one it sent out shock that HE KNEW YOU. Then it sent out a tingle up your arm because of you and him shaking hands. You were pretty sure your brain went haywire inside your skull screaming THAT`S TOM HIDDLESTON!!!

You really needed to get a grip NOW! Telling yourself that he might run any second if you would continue to look dumbfounded at him and somebody else had to play Matthew did the trick.

“Please, it would be my pleasure to hear you speak Matthew´s words.”  

Well, that went rather well after the clusterfuck inside your head.

 Tom smiled and nodded. He stepped away from the chair and closed his eyes for a second. You could see his shoulders slumping, his posture getting more sunk in and less easy going. He started to pace the room in slow and not forceful small steps, ruffling his hair and looking out a non-existent window. His eyes watered as he gulped and began to talk.

Hearing his voice break and sound so vulnerable alone made you choke up yourself.

“How long do I have to continue to walk the earth? For how much longer will I be my broken, incomplete self? I was promised that the part of my soul I gave up would come back to me…” He sat down and rested his head in his hands. “I am tired of feeling half empty, of needing to try to fill this…void inside my chest.” Abruptly he stood up and the chair fell over. You saw his face changing from sad to angry in a split-second. “I`M DONE YOU HEAR ME!” He yelled, then repeated the same sentence in a low, menacing voice. “I am done….you hear me!”

 It was not only you who sat there, staring at Tom as he changed back from Matthew to himself and smiled a little nervous. He picked up the chair and sat down again, awaiting a response. It surprisingly was you that found her voice again first.  “Wow, I mean…” You cleared your throat. “…why did you choose THIS scene out of all you could have prepared?” Tom smiled and wet his lips while pushing up his glasses another time. “I picked that scene in particular because It…to me…shows the emotional uproar of Matthew and his feelings in a very short amount of time. He is lonely and sad but also very angry to the core of his being. In this scene he lets it all out in the safeness of a room bereft of people before walking out and playing a role in his own life that he wants everybody to see.”

 His words resonated so deeply inside you that you wanted to hug him for getting the essence of who Matthew really was and saying it out loud! But all you got out was “Thank you!”

Tom smiled at you and inclined his head. “No, thank you for writing such an intriguing story.”

The casting director laughed still a little awestruck. There were glances thrown at each other with smiles and enthusiastic nods. “Well, I guess that settles it then. There will be nobody that can top what we have seen just now. I think I do speak for everybody at this table when I say. Welcome on board Mr. Hiddleston!” Toms eyes lit up. “Just Tom, please!”

He seemed genuinely happy to be able to give life to this character.

“As producer of this film…” Josh stood up and held out his hand “…I´d say I would be dumb not to let you co-produce. So, buckle up you are in for a ride!”   Tom grinned and shook hands with Josh.

“Let´s meet tomorrow to go over everything you have scheduled so far and get into details.” Tom suggested and they exchanged numbers. You stood, ready to get out of this room and breathe some fresh air after a long day.

 “(Y/N)…” Tom said and stopped you with his hand reaching out to touch your arm. You looked into his soft blue eyes and smiled. “…If you´d be willing to let me pick your brain about Matthew over dinner- I´d love to treat you to it. I do have one or two questions…” Your stomach gave a little rumble and you and Tom started to laugh.  “I take that as a yes…”

He opened the door and bowed a little. “After you!”

God damn, that charming smile again. Well, you´d just need to think of it as a work meeting like the ones you had had before with the script writers.

 An hour later Tom and you sat in a little restaurant he had recommended, not far from the West-End Theatres you loved so dearly. Central London was still busy but inside this restaurant and engulfed in a lively discussion about the characters in your book you were oblivious to it. After overcoming your first shocked state at seeing him you found him very easy to talk to. It was no hardship to keep the conversation flowing, even as it drifted away from Matthew and got a little more personal. Tom asked what had inspired you to write the book, what gave you the idea.

“If I say it came to me in a dream, I would sound so stereotypical…” You laughed and took a sip of your sparkling water. Tom chuckled and shrugged.

“If I order tea after dinner, I am stereotypical too. I don´t think it´s necessarily a bad thing.”  

 The food was amazing and tasted very good. Tom smiled as he saw you close your eyes at the first taste. “Walking into that room I thought I lost you for a second!” He grinned teasingly.

“Well, have you seen yourself walking into that room? I am a little bookaholic who is not accustomed to meet actors whose work I adored for a long time now.” Tom grinned at your words and took another bite of his meal to hide his own blush after your compliment.

“Plus…” you said “…I am rather out of my comfort zone doing all this.”

Tom tilted his head. “What exactly is your comfort zone then?”

Thinking about it for a moment you answered him.

“My desk where I wrote half of the book you are now co-producing…or that one tree in Regents Park where I wrote the other half…” you laughed.  Tom leaned back in his chair.

“Did you sit in the tree while writing or leaned against it? I am just asking because I frequently run through this park and need to know if I need to be aware of you threatening to drop onto me when I don´t do your character justice or if you just stick out your leg and let me trip.” A snorted out laugh escaped you and you clutched your hand over your mouth afterwards. Tom laughed as well and all the tension you might have felt somewhere inside depleted in favour of enjoying a dinner with him, talking about what made him and you tick.

  Later, as you lay in bed you couldn´t help but wonder if this day really had happened. Gasping out a laugh you closed your eyes and shook your head. “Some day” you said to yourself before drifting off into your colourful dreamworld.

 The next weeks you were busy starting to write your new novel and only kept track of some things in pre-production that needed your attention. It wasn´t until 4 weeks after the casting that you met Tom again as you walked into the first round table meeting to discuss the first week of filming. Starting in 3 days’ time, there were still some things to discuss and you needed to go over some monologue / dialog changes Tom had requested. Tom stood from his chair and pulled back the one next to him. “(Y/N), so good to see you again.” You smiled and dropped your bag onto the table before Tom pulled you in for a friendly hug. Near your ear he said

“I found myself running a lot more through Regents Park lately…but sadly I haven´t been able to find your tree!” Grinning he pulled back and looked into your eyes.

“I might need a map or a big red X on the spot please.” You laughed and sat down with a little blush but before you could answer the door opened and it was like history repeating itself. There you were, doing a double take, staring at a tall and handsome men who smiled at you. Tom leaned in a little. “Am I losing you again?” a deep chuckle before he stood and hugged the man who just had walked in. “Ben, meet (Y/N).” Benedict Cumberbatch held out his hand and grinned as he saw your still stunned face. “Hi (Y/N), I´m Ben. My friend Tom here told me you needed a narrator for some parts of the movie. I loved the book!” You shook hands with Benedict and Tom laughed.

“You loved the book after I practically forced you to read it.”

Ben huffed. “Doesn´t mean I don´t love it!” Ben looked at you. “And to be honest, he really was resilient. I was reading 4 scripts at the time and had no desire to read a book in between. Tom read some parts to me while we were on a press tour together and I was intrigued.” Ben took the seat to your other side and smiled. “So, here I am!”

 Yeah, there he was….and there YOU were, sitting in the middle of Tom Hiddleston and Benedict Cumberbatch watching them bicker with each other like one would watch a tennis game. You probably had whiplash by the end of the day.

 3 hours later you had not only a dooming whiplash lurking for you around the corner but also a skin that felt to tight for all the feelings 2 of the most beautiful voices on earth made you feel by speaking out words you had written. You blew out a breath and stood.

“Can we catch a short break, please?!” Not awaiting an answer, you walked out into the little garden and took a deep breath. Leaning against a tree you closed your eyes and tried to calm your senses.

Not ready for the “Everything alright (Y/N)?” That hit your system like a wildfire and made goose bumps rise on your arms. The soft touch to your hand shot another jolt through it. Opening your eyes to look into purest blue with a hint of concern in them you mustered a nod.

“Just needed some fresh air….” Tom raised a brow and looked inquiringly at you. “Try again!” He said. Closing your eyes and sliding down the tree trunk you sat in the grass.

“I was not prepared to hear my words coming out of your mouth like that!”

 Tom looked confused but sat down next to you with less space you were equipped to handle just now. “Did I get the words wrong?” He asked and continued to look at you. You instantly shook your head. “No! NO! You got them right! Very, very right. It hit me right here!” You put your hand above your heart and looked into his eyes. Tom began to smile. Slowly he took hold of your hand and guided it onto his chest.  “Your book hit me right here too, so it is my duty to get the words out in a way that makes you feel them like I felt reading them!” His warm hand captured your hand between his and his chest. You felt his heart beating in a steady rhythm that was soothing and thrilling at the same time. His eyes held yours in a soft but deep gaze before you had to look away, fixing your stare onto your touching hands. Tom smiled to himself and put a wayward strand of hair behind your ear with his fingertips. “Should I mess up for the last pages?” He asked with a little laugh in his voice.

 Your gaze shot up and you narrowed your eyes. “Are you trying to mock me?” Tom grinned and held up both his hands which made your hand slide down his chest a little before you retreated it.

“Actually, I have something else on my mind entirely…”

Now it was you looking inquiringly at him but Tom only grinned and stood up, holding out his hands to help you to your feet. “Let´s get back inside…” You took his hands and Tom tugged a little to hard. By the way he grinned it was very much deliberately done as he grabbed you with one arm to steady you after you hit his chest with yours. “Oops…”

You had no control over your reaction to it, you just acted and pinched his side. “Ooops!” You said too and walked back inside for another hour of sensual voice torture! Tom stared after you and grinned. Yes, there was chemistry between the both of you. Very much so! He had not only imagined it after the dinner the both of you had shared some weeks ago.

 The rest of the meeting went by with him trying to rill you up with his voice and seemingly accidentally touching your hand, back, leg whenever he got the chance and you throwing him glares and pinching his leg under the table. Ben was trying his best not to grin when he made you lean more towards Tom by grabbing Toms bottle of water. “Sorry. Mines empty!”

Damn them!

 In the evening of this day your phone signalled a message.

 Tom: Good evening Darling! Just a warning: Voice message incoming. Tom

 You: How did you get my number?

 Tom: Darling, I am the co-producer *wink*

 The next incoming message was the voice message. You hit play and a soft, warm and very sexy voice read a passage of monologue from Matthew where he had written a letter to the missing part of his soul. God, his voice was heavenly. Bolder because of the physical distance between him and you you wrote.

 You: Are you trying to torture me?

 Tom: Absolutely not! I just wanted your input on how to express that part of the script!

 You could not help but visualize his smug grin while he typed that answer. Writing back, you to smiled.

 You: Was alright…

 Tom: Just alright?! One moment…

 4 minutes later another voice message came in. Same text spoken with a little more desperateness in the right spots.

 Tom: That better?

 You: a little…

 Tom: Are you trying to torture me?!

 You: Absolutely not!  I just wanted to give you input on how to express that part of the script!

 Another voice message came in.

 “Darling, I think you are paying me back for this afternoon.” His voice got a little deeper.

“I like your feistiness. For now, sleep well…” When you thought his voice could not get any sexier, he said “…be prepared for a one on one training tomorrow! Meet me in Regents Park, Queen Mary´s Rose Garden at 10am…” He had the audacity to chuckle low at the end of his message.

God, you were falling head first into the deep end!!

 The next morning you found yourself marvel at the beautiful flowers inside the garden when 2 big hands came around your back to enclose over your eyes.

“Hello Darling!” He said near your ear and you felt his heat radiating from his chest onto your back. Toms hands came to rest on your shoulders and softly turned you into a hug.

“Hey Tom!” You said and smiled up to him with a soft blush reddening your cheeks. Tom only slowly let go of you and took a deep breath.

“You gave me a sleepless night!”

He said with what should have been a stern look but ended in a grin.

“Serves you right for the stunts you pulled on me yesterday!” Tom laughed and shrugged innocently. “I do not know what you are talking about!”

“Well, then I too don´t know what you are implying!” You started to walk before adding.

“You needed private teaching for Matthews letters to the lost part of his soul?”

 Tom watched you and said under his breath “I need private teaching in a lot of things where you are concerned!”  before saying loud enough for you to hear. “Yes…I do hope you have cleared your schedule for today!” Smiling you walked the gardens and Tom and you eased into a conversation about Matthew and his letters for starters. Somewhere in between Tom had softly taken your hand into his while walking deeper into the vibrant flowers to find a hidden bench that was in the heart of the garden. You could not recall how long the both of you sat on that bench, but it was a while. Your conversation all about work, but your body language was talking about something else entirely. Tom flung one of his long legs behind you, resting it on the bench to tug you in between and against his chest. “Ok?” He asked softly and stroked down one arm to let it come to rest against your belly. You nodded and slowly got comfortable in his arms while he continued the conversation as if nothing personal was happening just now. After a while Tom took a deeper breath and asked.

“Will you be on set for the whole leg of filming?”

You turned your head slightly to be able to look at him.

“I don´t know yet, why?”

Tom smiled a little and said. “I do like your company…” A soft laugh escaped you before you answered. “Well, they way we are sitting on this bench does not allow me to differ with your statement!” Tom chuckled and winked playfully before tugging you even closer against his chest.

 The next 3 weeks passed in much the same manner. Tom, whenever he was between filming scenes, found you wherever you where on set (mostly not far from him because it was wonderful to watch him act) to talk to you and share some physical contact. It differed between hugs, closeness in general and holding hands while walking to a different set. The two of you growing close and getting to know each other better and better. The way he brought Matthew to live was phenomenal. He carried the scenes with such ease and deep knowing of the character that you only could watch in awe. Never did he struggle to give the emotional depth needed, he literally poured his heart into this film as you had poured your heart into the book.

 The last day of filming started pretty early as you needed to be in a particular street in London. This was the last big scene. The scene where Matthew found the missing part of his soul, the one he had given up a lifetime ago. The frame was set to see Tom walking towards the camera with an intense gaze, the closer he came the more you could see that he was watching something with tears in his eyes, with a sense of understanding that THIS had kept on drawing him closer and closer. His stare made place for a slow spreading smile that lit up his whole face before he stepped out of the shot and towards the part of his soul.

 Tom watched the material shot so far and was in a deep discussion with the director as you entered the tent that was set up to watch the screens. “I don´t think that this is the ending this film needs. The book gives away what he has been searching for the whole time…” Tom said and the director considered his words carefully. “I thought it would be better to leave it open for interpretation, but I do get what you are saying. Let´s do an alternate version with your ideas!”

Tom nodded and grinned as he saw you coming closer. “There you are. I need your help!”

He grabbed your hand and tugged you to the make-up section and sat you down in a chair.

“I need you to act as my counterpart. The part I walk towards to.”

You stared at him with wide open eyes. “I can´t act! I am a writer!”

Tom smiled. “Just concentrate on me, look into my eyes the whole time. You know the characters better than anyone. You can do it!”

 Before you could say anything else you got prepped and pampered. Half an hour later Tom walked with you onto set. “See this red X? That´s your comfort zone!” He grinned as you shot him a dirty look. “Just stay there and think about her and Matthew finally finding each other again.”

Tom walked back to his spot and concentrated for a moment before nodding to the director. This scene was shot from to sides. Toms and yours. Tom walked towards you with wonder and emotion in his gaze. You could feel your own throat close up as you thought about the characters that you knew so well, how they finally got to be together again. Matthew gave up a part of his soul to keep her alive, his soulmate, only to lose all knowledge of her until their paths crossed again and he would FEEL deep inside himself that she was it!

 Tom stood now directly before you. A tear dropped out of his eyes but the smile he gave you was the brightest you have ever seen on a human. A shaking hand touched your cheek while you stared up into his eyes. The breath he took in was trembling. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against yours while your arms came around his waist. Tom opened his eyes and smiled before his head tilted to the side and slowly closed the distance to find your lips with his. The director yelled cut.

Tom took in a sharp breath and looked into your eyes intensely.  

“That was brilliant, the both of you did great!” The director said but Tom held up his hand and said

“Give us a moment please!” His eyes never let go of yours. Your hands fisted in his shirt as your whole body tingled because of his gaze, his touch, his nearness.

“Darling, I need to do this again…as me, as Tom!” He breathed and dipped his head again.

 Your lips met and the same tingling sensation now started where your lips met and shot like a lightning strike through your system.  Toms hand waved itself through your hair to the back of your head. He pressed you closer and your lips parted in a soft gasp. He took it as an invitation and let his tongue slip in to play with yours in a soft tangle of wet strokes and playful teases before he gaspingly broke loose. “I have wanted to do that for weeks!” he rasped and grinned. You started to chuckle and rested your head against his chest to hide your blush. But yeah, you felt the same!!

 Weeks later you nervously walked the red carpet at the premier of the movie. Ben had accompanied you for a little part of it as well as the director. Some meters ahead you saw Tom giving an interview. He looked so good in his suit. Your attention on him before a reporter started to bombard you with questions. “It must be wonderful to see your vision come to life on screen! How do you feel? Is this film doing justice to your book?”

Smiling because you finally knew an answer to a question you laughed.

“I am very happy with the result, the director and the producers as well as the whole cast did an amazing job staying true to the book and adapting it without much loss of its essence.”

Tom joined you and gave you a bright smile as you praised the work.

“Let me tell you, without (Y/N) being involved in writing the script we probably would have done a lot worse.” You laughed out loud but rolled your eyes. “He´s to damn modest!”

The interviewer grinned and shot another question at you.

“You have a tip for any aspiring writer out there?”

Thinking for a moment you said.

“Never give up…and put your heart into your work! I poured my heart into this book”

Tom grinned and said while turning you into his arms.

“And I was the one who picked it up!”

Before everybody, every camera, every person who was watching you he tilted you back and gave you a kiss that left no question about who you were to him!

Whispering against your lips he grinned.

��I intend to keep it. Not only Matthew got his happy end…I did too!”

   Tags: @archy3001  @itscalledfandomsweetielookitup @faeriedelalune-blog  @amazinggraces-world  @tanishahka @coniumalces @emomemelordess @devilbat @drakesfiance @confessionsofastrugglingteen  @inlovewithfreyamikaelson @heart-shaped-hell @theoneanna  @marikochi @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @awkwardfangirl2014 @rainbowsinthestorm  @anchored-in-high-tide @mylovelycrazyworld

[skvaderarts]

Soliloquy Chapter Seven: Abscond

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Chapter Seven: Abscond

Note: I just wanted to start by saying that chapter six was an absolute nightmare to write, but I had a great time doing it nonetheless. I’ve spent a few months trying to get myself to write this fic, and that resurrection scene was basically the whole reason. Trying to figure out a way to do that and make it make sense, fit into the existing confines of the series, and be coherent and enjoyable to read made for quite the crippling challenge, so I am thrilled by the reception that that chapter received! I remain humbled by your kind comments and warm words of encouragement! Thank you to every single person who commented, reblogged, gave kudos, and sent me messages about the story. I’d name you all, but in addition to everyone who has ever left me feedback on the previous chapters, almost 200 new people read the last chapter, so I can’t list you all by name. However, I can say thank you. Thank you all so much!

-~-

The overcast that had loomed overhead as they had entered the building was now more prevalent than ever. Be it a result of their current actions, some form of an ominous omen, or simply impeccably timed weather, it alluded to a coming storm of epic proportions. Huge dark clouds that would cause any right-minded pedestrian to check the current time of day spread across the sky in a vast network, chilling the air and absorbing all forms of light. The once gentle breeze was now a harsh wind, hammering against every surface it came across. It had been a glooming day from the very moment that the sun had come up that morning, but this was really kicking things into high gear.

As Magnolia collected what remained of the sparse materials she had brought with her to conduct the ritual, Nero oversaw V’s condition. The newly resurrected young man seemed to be semi-continuous, having still not opened his eyes since being brought back to the realm of the living, but able to react to physical stimuli. While it made sense to Nero on some level that he would not be fully operational out the gate (since he had never really been in the time he had known him) he still found himself unable to shake the feeling of uncertainty that had lodged itself deep into his subconscious.

He was worried about V.

Now that was something he never imagined he’d experience again...

As Dante and Vergil combed the space per Magnolia’s request to make sure there were no overt signs of demonic activity still present in the building, the youngest Descendant of Sparda went over a vague mental checklist in his mind. On the top of that list was the obvious question of where the hell V was going to go for the time being. While the Devil May Cry office was an obvious choice, there was the issue of Vergil’s undeniably recent return to contend with. Nero didn’t even need to ask if Dante knew where Vergil was staying at his office right now. They hadn’t been home long enough to see to that. For all the young white-haired man knew, his father had evolved to no longer require sleep during his time in the underworld. But V was going to be a different story. He just knew it. He had always been a different story; an exception to every rule.

“Hey, Magnolia,” Nero called to the alchemist as she packed up the last of her supplies,” Should I be worried that he looks like he’s in a coma or something?”

The woman in question shook her head as she closed the buckle clasps on her carrying case. “Being in a coma is no laughing matter, little one. Relatively speaking, it’s about as close to passing into Purgatorio as one can possibly get without actually being deceased.”

Nero chuckled to himself, nodding with an amused look on his face. “You don’t have to tell me that. I spent some time that way myself a little while back. Woke up one night to this one,” Nero said as he gestured towards V,” sitting in my window reading a book ready to offer me a job like I wasn’t already half-dead already or something. That’s how we met.”

Magnolia didn’t know what to say to that. While one part of her wanted to know what the hell had happened to him that ended with him comatose in the first place, her mind couldn’t help but find humor in the mental image of a person contracting someone to fight the envoys of the Underworld in their sickbed after seemingly breaking into their home. She decided that she would ask for more details when all parties involved were capable of speaking. “Well, if that’s the case, I’m glad to see that you're faring so well, dear. Hopefully, there will be fewer close calls in your future.”

Nero wasn’t entirely sure if she was being sarcastic or if the Alchemist was genuinely happy for his good health. She just had one of those voices, and the accent wasn’t helping in the slightest. “Thanks, I guess. Anyway, does bringing someone back from the afterlife or whatever come with a manual, because I feel like there’s something I’m missing in all of this.”

It was her turn to laugh now. She pulled the rolling case into an upright position and headed towards the front entrance, presumably heading to the van or some other form of transportation. After all, it was unlikely that she had walked here carrying all of these supplies from nearly twenty miles away up a gradual slope. Nero carefully lifted V bridal style and followed her. Somehow he weighed even less than he had originally estimated, if that was at all possible. Maybe after he had clothing on, his body weight would be more substantial. 

As cold as it was starting to get both inside and outside of the building, leaving him laying on bare concrete in -well, nothing- was probably a bad idea. As he followed her, she stopped, snickering to herself at the situation at hand, and decided to answer his question. “He should be more or less fine now. The hard part was relocating his soul to another plane of existence,” She spoke calmly, in a manner reminiscent of a professor giving a lecture,” The poor thing is going to be whether weak for a while though. Any inborn gifts he possessed prior to all this nonsense will trickle back in gradually, though in the meantime he will be effectively human. No passive regeneration, sixth sense, or anything like that for at least a week or so. I’m no doctor, but I’m going to take the initiative here and recommend bed rest. Extensively. What he just endured is taxing on the mind and body in every way conceivable, even for someone young and in good health. Don��t be surprised if he experiences dizzy spells or fainting. Proper nutrition is helpful, but this could still take a while.”

Nero nodded to himself as he took in the information she had just given him. Nothing seemed unreasonable, but it did clarify one thing for him. He needed to talk to Dante and Vergil. He chuckled to himself as he followed Magnolia, garnering a curious glance from her as they exited the building. “I fail to see the humor in this.”

In response to her statement, Nero smirked knowingly. “It’s not funny, it’s ironic,” He said. Her blank repose signaled that he needed to elaborate.” What I mean is you said he might faint and that for someone “in good health” this could be a lot to go to, right?”

She nodded, barely noticing the transition between the indoor and outdoor lighting as they exited the building and stepped out into the parking lot. “Yes. I said that. Why?”

Nero approached the van, using his foot to knock on the side door and signal Nico to open it. “Well, it’s ironic because he’s not “in good health” to start with. He’s walked with a cane the entire time I’ve known him and he’s constantly coughing or tripping over himself. Not to be an asshole or anything, but if I’m magnetically attracted to stairs, then he’s magnetically attracted to the ground ’cause that’s where he spends a lot of his free time.”

Magnolia blinked, her wide eyes filled with a sudden understanding and sympathy that she made no effort of hiding. Suddenly, what little desire she held to know how the young man before her had met his end fled her. It was unusual for someone his age to walk with a cane, especially one with a measurable amount of demon blood coursing through his veins. When he was more stable, she would need to take the time to try and consult with him. Perhaps there was something she could do to help…

As Nico opened the van door, Dante and Vergil exited the building. They arrived just in time to watch Nico’s frankly astounding facial expression at the sight of the presumably deceased demon slayer. “Well fuck,” she said as she stepped back to give the onboarding party room,” Every time you get in this van Nero, some weird shit happens; I swear. How the hell did yall- you know what? I don’t even wanna know! Let’s get outta here. Where are we headed?”

Magnolia pointed across the parking lot to the side of the building. They couldn’t see what she was pointing at, but they could only assume that it was her means of transportation. “I just wanted to see you off. I need to get back to my shop. Come see me later. And call me if you need anything,” She glanced at the oldest Son of Sparda, her eyes narrowing harshly,” Except you, Vergil. Your allowed casual visits at most.”

With that, she handed a slip of folded paper to Nero before hurrying off across the parking lot. Nico snickered briefly before looking at her passengers. She still needed a destination. Nero glanced between the twins and his friend as he laid V down on the couch. The summoner coughed weakly, teasing the possibility of opening his eyes for a moment before exhaling and settling back into his previous state, only this time more asleep than awake. Nero watched him for a moment before nodding to himself, his resolve towards the decision he had been teetering back and forth on now absolute. “... I think me and Nico should take V back to Fortuna with us.”

Dante and Vergil did a double-take, seemingly more surprised at his sudden uptake in initiative than offended by the statement. Dante seemed to consider quietly the statement, while Vergil seemed more apprehensive. 

“Why?” The eldest Son of Sparda said bluntly. He was clearly unconvinced.

Nero settled into a sitting position of the floor with his side against the couch, seemingly uninterested in heaving V’s proximity. Whether this was a conscious or subconscious decision or not remained to be seen, but he did so nonetheless. “Because there is a metric shit ton less demonic activity there than there is in Redgrave and Capulet and because I’m the only one here who isn’t going to get in an argument with my brother and literally destroy my own house. Magnolia said he needs bed rest and all that shit, and the only peaceful kinda peaceful place is my house. That, and your extra bedroom is taken, Dante,” Nero tilted his head in his father’s direction,” And I just happen to have an extra room at my place since someone decided to scare my kids back into one room!”

Vergil glanced away at the last statement, still unwilling to think about the mental damage he had probably inflicted upon those wide-eyed, chatty, orphans. “So you actually believe that three actual children can be that well behaved and we can't?”

Nero didn’t hesitate to nod in agreement. “Yea, because when I turn on the tv, they sit down and watch it. You can’t even turn a TV off without unplugging it, and your only means of communication with your own brother is stabbing each other to death. Plus, Dante’s doors get kicked in like every fucking week and he blasts loud ass music all the damn time. That’s literally the opposite or a restful environment!”

Dante shrugged incredulously. As much as he’d like to make some sort of witty comeback, Nero wasn’t exactly incorrect. Vergil closed his eyes as if he were deep in thought for a long moment as Nico tried not to laugh at this whole situation from the driver’s seat. Everyone in this family was a walking disaster and it was amazing that they had survived this long. After a minute that felt like a lifetime, Vergil sighed and leaned back against the window next to Dante who was now sitting down across from the couch and searching for a magazine to pretend to read to avoid this uncomfortable conversation. “... Do not disappoint me, Nero… I do not give my trust light.”

Dante interjected with a quick “no he really doesn’t” before continuing to reread his magazine for the millionth time. Vergil shot him a quick glare before returning his gaze to Nero. There was no humor present in his demeanor. Nero glanced between him and  V before nodding slowly in agreement. “I’m not going to.”

-~-

It had taken almost every ounce of daylight to drop Dante and Vergil off and then head back to the pier. And their timing couldn’t have been better as the ferry was stopping with the next round trip. The possibility of a thunderstorm had halted most water traffic, and all water transport between the island and the mainland was due to cease immediately upon the vessel’s return. That left just enough time to sneak one last trip in.

As the ship was docking, Nero called Kyrie to alert her of their arrival and to inform her that they would have another houseguest for a while. As expected, she didn’t protest the idea. In fact, she seemed thrilled, though that could be because Nero hadn’t elaborated on the context of the stay or who was coming over. V and Kyrie had never met one another, despite the fact that V had come to their home once before. But it had been during the middle of the night and the young summoner had been in something of a hurry at the time. There had been no time for pleasantries back then. But that was about to change. Hopefully.

As they pulled up to the onboarding ramp, Nero gave Nico the closest thing he could to a serious look. Before he could ask her not to go flying off the ramp, she disembarked, taking the ramp for perhaps the first time ever. Nero was utterly flabbergasted. “Nico, what the fuck?!”

Nico put her cigarette out in the ashtray she had placed in one of the cup holders. “What is it this time? If I drive carefully, you bitch at me. If I don’t, you bitch at me. Are ya crazy or somethin’? If you think you can do better, then you drive next time and I’ll take a nap in the back with him!”

Nero stared at her incredulously as she pulled around the corner and headed towards their shared residence. Nico absolutely never under any circumstance drove like a normal human being. He wasn’t sure if knowing that she could do that made him feel relieved or upset. She could have just driven the van like this the entire time he had known her? What the absolute fuck?

“So ya gonna keep starin’ at me like that or what?” Nico asked casually. Nero was at a loss for words and it showed.

As the van pulled onto the street that they called home, Nero stood up and walked over to V. Despite the fact that he still hadn’t woken up, he now looked more asleep than unconscious. Or at least that was what Nero thought. When he had first been brought back, he looked distressed, uncomfortable even. Now he seemed more at ease. At the very least, his breathing had been steady and he hadn’t coughed in at least an hour. He seemed stable. Nero couldn’t help but wonder if he was just a very deep sleeper and had been taking a much-needed nap this entire time. He doubted it, but still. Now that he thought about it, this was the first time he had actually seen the summoner sleep. During their time together during the Redgrave city incident, they had taken the occasional break, but V had been so preoccupied with his book that he hadn’t even sat down, always choosing to lean against the stove in the van’s kitchenette instead. Vergil had the book now, perhaps using it as a bargaining tool for later. He wasn’t much of a talker, a fact that had bothered Nero when they had first met. Who would have ever guessed that they’d be in the situation that they were in now, Nero bringing him to stay at his place? Wild shit happened sometimes.

“It’s just good to know that you can actually drive. Though I still don’t understand how you ever got a license.” Nero said as they pulled into the back alley that led to their driveway. For once, the door was open. Kyrie must have let it up after their conversation on the phone earlier. Nico climbed out of her seat and headed over to the side door, opening it and then hoping down to hold it open for Nero.

“Yea, well I wasn’t tryin’ to knock him around too much. He already walks with a cane.” Nico said as she stepped back towards the rear of the van. With the large vehicle inside of the garage, space was at a premium, and carrying someone required more room than normal. Nero fixed his jacket around V and scooped him up, nearly bashing his legs against the kitchen cabinet as he turned. The youngest Descendant of Sparda cringed to himself. That was one thing the two of them seemed to have in common to some degree. They were both clumsy as hell.

Taking a few cues from his close call a moment prior, he descended the stairs carefully and headed towards the inside door. Nico closed the door behind him and squeezed past them, heading to open the door for them. She nearly walked right into Kyrie as she did so. The young red-haired woman was carrying a stack of cardboard boxes and Nico had nearly sent her crashing to the floor as the door caught her in the side. She set the boxes down on the bench behind her and stepped back out of the way, clearly startled.

“My bad Kyrie,” Nico said as she looked her over for injuries,” I couldn’t see you!”

Kyrie smiled brightly and gestured towards the boxes. “You’re just fine, Nico. The children and I were cleaning out the extra room. There wasn’t really much in there, so I was hoping I’d be done before you arrived. These were the last three boxes. All of this was going on the empty shelves in the garage-”

Nico eagerly grabbed the stack of boxes as Nero entered behind her. “Ok, I’ll take care of it for you,” the young dark-haired woman said as she stepped out behind Nero and out into the garage. Kyrie was going to inform her that she could take care of it herself, but Nico disappeared behind the closed door before she could. The young redhead shook her head and giggled to herself as she turned to face Nero. During her time here, she had truly come to enjoy Nico’s extreme personality. She was a joy to be around.

The moment she caught sight of the white-haired young man her domestic partner was carrying, she went wide-eyed, her head crooking to the side in surprise. Who in Sparda’s name was this newcomer? Nero shifted anxiously. Maybe it was better if he just spit it out and got it over with? “Hey so… this is V, the guy I told you about when I came back after everything,” He said cautiously, unsure of how she was taking all of this,” It turns out that being dead is more complicated than everybody thinks, so he’s alive again. And… he’s kinda my brother so…”

Kyrie stared at him blankly. That was a little too much for her to take in all at once. She glanced down at their sleeping guest, leaning over him to get a better look. That made sense. They did have the same color hair, even though his looked a little whiter than Neros did to her. She was totally taken aback at the implications of what Nero had just said. He’d come back from the dead? Nero had told her Vergil had done that at one point, so the idea wasn’t completely foreign to her, but Nero had a brother? In the entire time that she had known him, she would have never guessed that he had siblings. He had always been so… alone. After all, being an orphan made it very difficult to locate your original family. It made her wonder what Nero must be thinking about all of this. As startled as she was, it had to be several times worse for him.

She smiled softly and gestured towards the guest room. It was on the opposite side of the house from the dining room. Being the only room on this floor and having its own small ensuite bathroom, it had been the natural choice for a guest room. She patted Nero gently as he passed her before turning towards the dining room. “It’s okay. I know you did the right thing, Nero. I’ll go get some extra blankets. I put a sheet and some pillows on the bed after I finished dusting, but I didn’t get a chance to do anything else.”

Nero stared at her as she walked off for a moment, relieved that she had taken that so well. She’d have probably told him off for his reaction if she’d been present at the time. Her understanding meant the world to him. “It’s okay, Kyrie. You do enough as it is.”

She waved at him over her shoulder as she rounded the corner into the next room and disappeared. He used his foot to nudge open the door and walked, taking a moment to look around. Aside from the built-in bookcase that had always been in the room near the door and the bed that jutted out into the center of the room, the entire room was spotless. The large window on the far side of the room that overlooked the small side yard where the children normally played was open, likely to let in the fresh air. Nero laid V down and sat at the foot of the bed, only now really registering how unreal this entire situation seemed to him. A moment later, Kyrie returned with a stack of about six blankets. Nero raised an eyebrow at her as she stuffed them into one of the open shelves on the bookcase and then used one to cover him up. It was a plush grey knitted blanket that she had made herself a while back. As soon as he was covered up, Nero unwrapped his jacket from around him and tucked it under his arm, returning his attention to Kyrie. She shrugged at his obvious confusion.

“I didn’t want him to be cold,” She said simply, gesturing towards the oversized stash of warm, thick blankets,”... Why was he wrapped in your coat? Is he okay?”

Nero looked over at V. He had stirred slightly, pulling the soft blanket tighter around himself. Now that Nero thought about it, Kyrie was probably correct. It had been abnormally cold for the last few hours. Having no clothes on had probably been uncomfortable, to say the least. “... I think he’s going to be alright. Supposedly he just needs to rest” Nero glanced over at the pile of blankets again, nodding to himself,” Thanks for the blankets. He doesn’t have any clothes on, so that’s probably going to be good for him. Probably should have said that before...”

Kyrie blushed bright red. “OH. I’m sorry then! I’ll go see if I can find him something!”

Before he could say anything, Kyrie hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her. He shook his head and laughed to himself. Poor kyrie. She probably felt like she had violated V’s personal space. He stood up and pulled an extra cover from the pile, tossing it over him. Better safe than sorry. As he leaned over him to fix the covers, V turned over and brushed his arm over him, exhaling audibly. Nero moved V’s arm off of his hand and continued, paying him little mind. As he sat up to assess his work, V gripped his wrist weakly. Assuming that he was simply shifting in his sleep again, he sat up and moved to step away and towards the door. But as he tried to pull away, V’s grip tightened. Nero turned his attention from the door back to the bed and nearly jumped out of his skin in fright. A familiar set of green eyes was looking back up at him.

V was awake. And he looked absolutely wrecked.

-~-

This chapter was so fun to write that I had to stop here and immediately start working on the next chapter. They will only be a day apart, so don’t worry, I won’t keep you in suspense for very long! Again, thank you so much for your overwhelming support. Hopefully, this chapter wasn’t too slow for you. But the good news is that V is actually awake now, so you know what that means. DIALOGUE! See you guys on May 22nd for chapter Eight! Wow, I can’t believe we’re already on chapter eight...

[mslanna]

This Is The Best Day Ever

I started a modern day Witcher AU and I don’t think it’ll go anywhere. So have a start if you like. Jaskier has an emo punk band and Ciri drags her dad along as chaperone to see them...

"Dad!" Cirilla wailed in indignation. "I am almost fourteen! I can go to a concert on my own."

"Over my dead body." Geralt crossed his arms. The he looked his wife. Yennefer's grin said clearly that she would not be the one accompanying Ciri.

"Alright. I'll get us tickets."

"You will only embarrass me," Ciri objected.

"He won't," Yennefer assured her. "Your dad is too tall to stand in the first row with you. So he will be a good boy and keep at the side."

"Are you sure?" Ciri was not convinced.

"Or we all just stay at home," Geralt offered.

"No." Ciri decided instantaneously. "Oh my god, I don't know what to wear! I need to call Dara right now."

Geralt watched his daughter rush from the room, hand already groping for her mobile. "I hope you know what you are doing," he said to his wife.

"Of course I am." Yennefer smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "After all it is not I who is going to an emo punk concert with our daughter."

Geralt grunted. She had him there.

                                        *            *                *

Looking over the crowd streaming into the venue, Geralt was regretting his decision already. There was way too much black for a crowd that age and way to few parents. As soon as he had made sure Cirilla know hoe to signal to him to get her out of the crowd, the girl had run off. Now and then he could see her blonde curls bopping up in the crowd trying to squeeze three hundred people into the first row.

Had he known what kind of music Buttercups, Almost Dandelions made, he would have taken steps to ensure Cirilla did not get into that. Now he and Yennefer had to put a foot down to keep her from dyeing her hair black.

There was nowhere to get a drink and nowhere to sit down either. Grumbling Geralt stood at the side of the hall, leaning against the bare wall. The noise wasn't as bad as expected. The supporting act was doing okay taking into consideration that the whole hall was full of people who had come to see somebody else entirely.

The moment the lights went out in anticipation of the main act, the noise did turn out unbearable. No more concerts without era plugs, Geralt decided. He would have to think of a way Ciri could not remove them though. He grunted.  Something to occupy his mind with for the next hour.

If one could think over this noise that was. A single spotlight had come up, raising the pitch of the screaming at least one octave.

Then a sliver of a person stepped into the light and caused the noise-death of the universe. It was probably Mr Buttercup himself. Again, Geralt would have expected a little more yellow on the guy. With his elaborate outfit, he would have been at home on any gothic ren fair. Dark hair hung into his eyes, black outlined the eyes heavily.

The general screaming slowly converged into a coherent chant of 'Jaskier'. The man on the stage smiled slightly and stummed a minor chord. The hall fell silent in a heart beat.

"Hello," Jaskier smiled into the microphone, lips almost touching the metal. His hand came up from the guitar, cupping the microphone with the plectrum between his index finger and thumb. "How are you feeling tonight?"

It was an invitation for the maelstrom of noise to return. Geralt prodded his right ear, trying to hold on to a shred of his sense of hearing. He needn't have bothered. A lazy chord later the stage lit up with more spot lights, revealing the remainder of the bouquet and the music started for real.

If you wanted to call it music. If you could actually discern any of it from the tapestry of screaming it was fighting against. Geralt hoped Cirilla had better acoustics in the front row with fewer screaming teenagers between her and the band. He doubted it.

Jaskier knew how to handle a crowd though. Even if it was a crowd of hormone-addled teenagers. The singer managed to quite them all down for a slow number about lonely white wolves. Quite a feat. Ignoring the occasional howl imitation.

Geralt could have done with a few more ballads. The hall was almost bearably noisy and Jaskier actually had an agreeable singing voice. He was admittedly difficult to hear above the roaring crowd.

Geralt wondered how Ciri was doing in the squash zone. But so far she hadn't signalled for extraction. She was probably so high on hormones that reality would take a day or two to get back through to her. Such was life. Adolescence happened only once. Something to be grateful for, no doubt.

The concert dragged on. Geralt did his best to no peer at his watch. He certainly didn't stop tapping the beat guiltily with a foot. Taking the overall youth music scene into consideration, this could have gone a lot worse.

The last song came on. Geralt applauded because it was finally over. The audience disagreed vocally. Waves of noise broke against the stage, taking bodies with it. Medics kept pulling people from the crowd. The lights did not go on. With a sigh Geralt resigned to the encore. And the second encore which led to the crowd howling the song about the wolf again and which got them a third encore.

Geralt peered at his watch after all and had to realise he hadn't lost as much time of his life as he had thought. The crowd was bouncing in unison, accelerating towards a shattering crescendo. He didn't wait for that when a familiar figure was lifted over the heads of the fans, drifting towards the medics. Long blonde locks trailed behind her.

Getting to the front of the hall, even at the very side was difficult. Small bodies blocked the way and there was no way to push them aside without risking serious damage. Cirilla was carried away to the other side of the stage, too. Cursing, Geralt reversed direction. He was just getting to where he had been on the other side of the hall, when the lights did come on. That did not actually convince the audience to scatter appropriately or make his way towards the stage any easier.

By the time he reached the barricade, all medical personnel had vanished. Reaching out, Geralt grabbed the next stage hand passing by. "Where are the children?"

The stage hand understood without needing further encouragement. He pointed to a door a little further down the hall. But when Geralt started to move in that direction, he did try to stop him. "You can't go backstage," he said valiantly.

"Yeah?" Geralt tilted his head. "Watch me."

To the horror of everybody watching, he climbed over the barricade, storming off to the indicated. A security man approaching him was grabbed by the arm. "Good," Geralt growled. "You know the way to medical. I want my daughter. Now."

After a few turns, Geralt suspected that this was not the way to the medical part at all. Shoving the security guard away with a frustrated grunt, he stormed back down the corridor. Signs would have been helpful. Maybe they had been taken down again already.

Judging from the steps speeding up behind him, the security guard had decided to take up pursuit. Geralt stepped it up a notch, turning around a few corners in the hopes of finally finding the medic and maybe losing the tail.

A door opened and another small black figure stepped into his path. Geralt pushed it away. At least he tried to, only to find his hand taken hold off, trapped neatly on the chest it had pushed against.

"Now if that isn't my song come to life," Jaskier said agreeably. He waved the guard away lazily giving Geralt a second once-over.

Geralt snorted. "Where is my daughter?"

"I have not taken on any daughters," the singer replied easily. "But when we find her, I might be open to a few grateful words."

"Useless," Geralt growled, barely keeping from rolling his eyes.

"Says the man with a hammer to the screw," Jaskier said.

"What do you want?"

"I?" The singer laughed. "It was you who barraged into my place, laying hand on me. Let's get that correct for starters."

"I am only looking for my daughter." Geralt freed his hand.

"And if you stopped your boorish behaviour for just long enough to let me take the lead, I am certain we would have arrived where the medics put up care long ago." Jaskier began to walk slowly, giving Geralt time to make up his mind. "You realise there is a central information point in front of the hall where you can get escorted to you daughter if she's in medical care, right?"

Geralt grunted non-committal.

"Of course this is the much more scenic route," Jaskier kept the conversation going as if Geralt was actually participating. "You get to see me after all. A much more charming company than a medical escort."

Another snort.

"You are most eloquent. A pity that our journey shall soon come to an end. Allow me to write a song about it."

Geralt stopped short, forcing the smaller man to take a step back under the force of the index finger rammed into his chest. "Don't you dare." Taking a deep breath he stepped back. The only thing worthy of song way Cirilla and his wife. But he would certainly not encourage the obnoxious. fool.

"You're right." Jaskier puled at his black shirt. "I'd never get all those elaborate grunts right."

Geralt took another deep breath and forced a neutral expression. "I will now get-"

"Your daughter, yes yes," Jaskier interrupted. "She should be here any moment now. I had sent for her."

"You what?"

"It's my place for tonight." Jaskier winked. "Has to have a few perks."

At that very moment, light footfall became audible down the corridor and around a corner.

"Ciri?" Geralt called ignoring Jaskier who was still explaining something.

"Dad!" Cirilla bounded around the corner towards her father.

He softened visibly. Seeing his daughter well and happy brought a lenient expression to his face. The love for his Ciri was written over Geralt's face in warm, fuzzy letters of insurmountable size.

At his side, Jaskier fell silent.

In the corridor, Cirilla stopped in mid-step. "Dad?" Her eyes wandered from her father to the singer standing next to him, a whirlwind of emotions crossing over her whole figure.

"Well, the family resemblance is obviously," Jaskier squinted, "somewhere."

"Dad?" Cirilla asked, the question dripping from her gaze into her tone.

"Oh, that, yeah." Geralt shrugged. "He ran into me when I was looking for you. Can't shake him." Geralt chose to ignore the indignant gasp from Jaskier as well as the unbelieving one from his daughter.

"That is-" Ciri couldn't finish.

"Yeah. Oh, right." Geralt put on the barest minimum of manners. "Jaskier, this is my daughter Cirilla. Ciri, this, well Jaskier. Does he have a last name? Do you have a last name? Do we need that?"

"Pleased to meet you," Cirilla got out.

Jaskier took the offered hand with a bow indicating a kiss on the back of it. "I can see your father passed on all his eloquence and manners to you."

Ciri blushed and caught between the urge to hid behind her father and bravely stand where she was, clutched at his side. Geralt dropped a protective arm over her shoulders automatically.

"We must leave," he growled pointedly.

"Oh, there you are again with no manners at all." Jaskier huffed. "Tell you father that this is very bad manners indeed, Cirilla. We have only just met and there he goes leaving already. Is he always impossible like that? I bet he is."

Ciri nodded a teenagers awareness of their parent's inherent cringyness on her expression.

"Her mother is waiting for us."

"Oh and now he is blaming it all on you mother." Jaskier lowered his tone consiprationally. "Does your mother know he does that?"

Ciri giggled and nodded.

"Well, that's probably okay then. And we will not leave her waiting. You go to the entrance," he waved in the general direction behind him, "and I'll be there in a moment. Decide on the take-out you want."

"We will certainly not have take-out for dinner or with you." Geralt put his foot down. It helped that he did not see Ciri's face.

"Rude," Jaskier replied.

Ciri nodded and took a brave step away from her father. "But he did buy me a guitar," she finally said, after fishing for a redeeming trait.

"So you are playing the guitar?" Jaskier asked Cirilla. "We must have a jam session then!"

"It is half past ten," Geralt cut the idea off.

"True." Jaskier's shoulders slumped shortly before he brightened suspiciously. "We will have to do that another time then, won't we?"

It was most dirty manoeuvre Geralt had ever seen. But the way Ciri's eyes lit up at the mere thought of playing guitar with her musical hero. Who would have the heart to quench that light?

"Take out is still standing, though," the singer said taking Cirilla's hand. "What do you feel like and where do you get it in this city?" When they reached Geralt, Jaskier just took the tall man's hand as well and kept walking. "As I said, wait at the entrance, security is informed. What do you think about Italian?"

"Why not." Ciri looked up at her father.

Geralt was a walking storm cloud, held in check by nothing but his daughter's elation. "I do not think that will help with me being upset."

"Maybe it will do something about you being so depressing?" Jaskier took a step backwards, putting Cirilla's hand into that of her father. "I'll be only a moment."

A few steps later, Cirilla had found the joke and started laughing.

"I'll call Yen and give her a heads up," Geralt rumbled, knowing he was beaten.