#but i couldn't throw it away. for the archives obviously

[eggmeralda]

I can't stop saying "for the archives" whilst doing literally anything

[pickingupmymercedes]

My Venus - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

A MET Gala Special

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Famous!Reader

warnings: fashion world, sexual activities, (p in v), oral sex

Wrap it before you tap it!!!

wordcount: +3K

a/n: I know it's impossible for anyone to wear the original Venus Dior dress, it's a museum piece and it has been for decades, but it's a fic (and my favorite dress, ever) so let's go with it. Y/n is obviously someone really known in the fashion industry, but I didn't specify how, so it's totally up to you to create a back story.

a/n 2: Kind of a request. I was planning something already but anon gave me amazing ideas, thank horny anon!! Also, smut with a plot, what a shocker for me!!

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT.

______________________________________________________________

Y/n toyed with a stray piece of croissant, her gaze flitting from the cityscape outside to Lewis, who was deep in conversation with his stylist.

Sunlight streamed through the expansive windows on the opulent The Mark Hotel’s suite, a golden glow on the remnants of their breakfast. Crumbs danced on the crisp white tablecloth, a playful counterpoint to the elegant silver service glinting in the corner.

Eric, a man perpetually poised on the precipice of tranquility, leaned forward trying the nonchalantly posture as his eyes danced with curiosity. "Come on, Y/n, spill the beans! We’re all vibrating with suppressed curiosity."

Lewis, in is crisp white tee and black joggers, shot Eric a playful glare. "Thanks for that, mate. Subtlety is your strong suit, clearly." He turned to Y/n, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Seriously, love. The MET is in a few hours, you can tell us."

Y/n, who had mastered her poker face over the last five months of keeping that secret, took a delicate sip of her orange juice. "Let's just say," she drawled, her voice smooth as silk, "it has a very famous sister."

Eric groaned dramatically, throwing his hands up in mock defeat. "Oh, delightful. Lewis, bro, you're on your own with this one."

Lewis chuckled, shaking his head fondly. "You're a menace, Y/n." He winked, a shiver running down her spine despite the playful nature of the exchange. But the silence that followed held a different energy, charged with unspoken anticipation.

Lewis leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "It’s something that is going to steal everyone breath away, so maybe it needs a security detail of its own?"

Y/n couldn't help but let a sly smile curve her lips. "Maybe." she teased, leaning in even closer. The scent of his signature cologne, a heady mix of wood and spice, filled her senses. "Maybe it'll have everyone whispering about who dared to wear such a legend."

A low rumble escaped Lewis' chest, a sound that sent a jolt of excitement through her. " An archive, huh?! " He said, his voice husky

Just then, Eric cleared his throat pointedly. "Right, right, all very hush-hush. But remember, Lewis, you have your Burberry fitting this afternoon. We can't have you looking too shabby next to your mystery woman in archives."

Y/n laughed, a light, tinkling sound that filled the room. "Oh, I'm sure Lewis will manage to steal the spotlight anyway."

Lewis winked again, his gaze lingering on her lips. "A competition, isn't it, love?"

Their playful sparring continued through the rest of the lunch, a delicious undercurrent of unspoken attraction running through their every word and glance. As they finished their coffee, the tension in the air thickened, a silent question hanging between them. It was time to leave, to face the world – and the MET Gala – separately.

But Lewis wouldn't let her go without a final flourish. He stood, his gaze holding hers, and offered a hand with a courtly bow. "Until tonight, my fashionista. May the best dresser win."

_______________________________________________________________

The air crackled with anticipation as Y/n stepped out of the limousine, a vision as the cameras flashed like a sudden storm, capturing the first glimpse of her enigmatic beauty. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, a palpable wave of awe and recognition as Y/n slowly revealed the legendary Venus dress.

Time seemed to slow. Each step on the red carpet was a carefully choreographed performance, the weight of fashion history settling on her body like a luxurious cloak.

The gown, a masterpiece of delicate embroidery, whispered tales of a bygone era, its every fold a testament to the genius of Christian Dior himself. It clung to her like it had been designed for her. A silent promise of a woman both powerful and breathtakingly beautiful.

Y/n held her head high, a serene and honest smile playing on her lips. Yet, beneath the calm exterior, a thrill coursed through her veins. This wasn't just another red carpet.

Lewis, waiting further down the carpet, watched his breath hitch as she came into view. Initially stunned speechless, his jaw dropped in a way that sent the internet into a frenzy.

Here was the woman he knew, the one who matched his every playful jab with witty retorts, transformed into a goddess. He felt a surge of pride, a possessiveness that went beyond what he had felt before with people looking at her.

This was Y/n, his Y/n, stealing the spotlight of the most known fashion event with an audacity as breathtaking as the gown itself.

It was a declaration, a playful rebellion against expectations, most of them that she had created for herself, as she had stablished her style as the non conformative. Still, in The Garden of Time that was the MET, she was bringing one the most known and iconic flowers back to life.

Microphones were being thrusted in her face, a flurry of questions buzzed around her like excited bees, photographers going maniac at the sight of a dress that had been at an exposition for decades months prior being worn.

"Y/n, this is absolutely iconic! How did you manage to borrow this historical piece?" a seasoned entertainment reporter gushed.

Y/n, ever the diplomat, offered a practiced smile. "Let's just say it took a lot of convincing," she replied, the truth a delightful secret she'd keep to herself. "But I believe it was worth the effort."

"Do you feel any pressure wearing such a significant piece of fashion history?" another reporter chimed in.

An understanding glint sparked in Y/n's eyes. "It's a tremendous honour. But pressure is a luxury I don't have time for tonight. It's all about celebrating art, fashion and Christian Dior himself.” Her wit drew laughter and appreciative nods from the crowd, creating a true vision of a woman stunning and intelligent, truly worthy of the Venus.

As Lewis answered his own fielding questions about his Burberry ensemble, he couldn't help but steal glances at her. Her confidence radiated outwards, a magnetic force that drew everyone's attention. He felt a flicker of pride, ever so slightly tinged with a possessiveness that made him want to shout to the world, 'This is my woman.'

"Lewis," a young reporter, eyes wide with admiration, interjected, "What are your thoughts on Y/n's stunning outfit?"

Lewis, ever the charmer, took a playful dig. "Well, let's just say" he drawled, mirroring her earlier cryptic response, "It was worthy of the months of secrecy. She awed everyone as much as she awes me."

As Y/n went up the stairs she found Lewis at the entrance waiting for her, his eyes boring wholes onto her skin. Lewis leaned close, a hand reaching for hers as his voice a huskily murmured "You're incredible, Y/n," his eyes lingering on her "Absolutely breathtaking, love."

Y/n, feeling the warmth of his gaze on her exposed skin, a secret smile played on her lips. There was a thrill in knowing she had surprised him, in seeing the awe and possessiveness flicker in his eyes.

"You know …” she teased, resting her hands on his shoulders as he reached for her waist, a sequence of flashes going off as they showed affection "This was all about making a statement”.

The throng of bodies inside the museum buzzed with an electric energy. As they navigated the crowded halls, Y/n couldn't help but notice the way heads turned their way. Whispers and glances followed them like a second skin.

Lewis, sensing her amusement, leaned in with a smirk. "Enjoying the attention, love?" he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Oh, absolutely," Y/n deadpanned, batting her eyelashes playfully. "It's not every day I get to feel like a museum exhibit myself."

Lewis chuckled, a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine. "Well, you are a work of art yourself. But you’re also wearing one."

Suddenly, a whirlwind of hair materialized beside them. Zendaya, ever the fashion icon, flashed a dazzling smile. "Y/n, girl! That dress. How?!”

Before Y/n could reply, Zendaya dragged her towards the main exhibition, where Venus’ sister dress – Junon – was center piece, photographers already positioned for the Dior reunion.

Lewis, hovered nearby, a playful smile on his face. Even with the constant interruptions, his gaze never strayed far from Y/n.

As she managed to escape the scene, Y/n couldn't help but notice Lewis's gaze burning into her. "You know," she said, meeting his stare with a smirk, "I can actually feel your eyes searing holes in my dress, Lewis."

He chuckled, leaning closer. "Can't blame a guy for appreciating a masterpiece, can you?" he countered, his voice a husky murmur.

Just as Y/n leaned in to retort, a gaggle of socialites descended upon them. Throughout the pleasantries, Y/n couldn't ignore the heated glances Lewis kept throwing her way. His gaze lingered on the exposed skin of her shoulders, and a playful glint in his eyes hinted at something more than mere admiration.

Finally, as the speeches began and everyone went to their seats, Lewis leaned in close, pulling her towards his side, his voice a husky whisper in her ear. "They can all look, love." his eyes holding hers. "But you're mine."

The speeches droned on, a monotonous hum that Y/n barely registered. Her focus was solely on Lewis, his hand possessively resting on her hand on her lap. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt of electricity through her, a stark contrast to the cool of the dress against her skin.

As the formalities dragged on, the air crackled with unspoken desire. Every brush of their bodies, every stolen glance, fueled a fire that threatened to consume them.

"This is torture," he breathed, his breath tickling a sensitive spot on her neck. "All I want is..." he trailed off, his eyes dropping suggestively to the exposed skin of her chest.

Y/n raised an eyebrown, a delicious mix of excitement and apprehension in her body language. "Finish that sentence, Lewis" she purred, her voice barely a whisper.

“You, alone." he finished, his voice rough with desire. "Somewhere I don’t need to share."

His hand moved up to her shoulders. His fingers finally grazing the edge of the dress, a silent question hanging in the air. Y/n, emboldened by the setting and the audacity of the dress itself, met his gaze with a playful smile.

"There might be a deserted exhibit around the corner," she said, her voice barely above a breath. "One filled with creatures long extinct."

A wicked grin spread across Lewis's face. "Hm…" he murmured, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous glint. Every glance from him felt like a branding iron, searing the memory of him onto her skin.

When the event finally came to its end, they navigated the crowd, Lewis's possessiveness evident in the way he kept guiding her by the small of her back, a silent declaration. Every so often, his eyes would flick to the exposed skin of her shoulders.

They managed to get by the crowds unusually quickly, ushered greetings and nods a clear sign everyone wanted out. But, as they approached the exit, a familiar face beamed at them. Stella McCartney, a vision of elegance in her silver dress, rushed forward to greet Y/n.

"Y/n, you look absolutely phenomenal!" Stella exclaimed, throwing her arms around Y/n in a warm embrace. "That dress! It's absolutely breathtaking."

Y/n put out a smile. "Thank you, Stella. It was an honor to wear such a piece of history." While Stella gushed about the intricacies of the dress, Lewis tried to exchange a knowing look with Y/n.

The unspoken desire simmering between them was palpable, an energy that crackled in the space between them. Just then, a low chuckle caught Y/n's ear. Gayle King, stood nearby, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Lewis" she started, her voice smooth as silk, "I haven't seen you this speechless in years. Y/n, you've absolutely stolen the show."

Lewis, ever the charmer, offered her a playful smile. " You know Y/n, she has a knack for making an entrance."

Gayle, unfazed by his attempt at deflection, turned to Y/n, her gaze sharp and knowing. "You two," she said, linking her arm in Y/n's, "must tell me all about this later. That dress…and the look on Lewis's face… well, that was priceless”

Y/n, her cheeks burning, couldn't help but steal a glance at Lewis. His gaze met hers, a silent conversation passing between them. They both knew Gayle was right, and that everyone had probably also seen his gaze.

As they reached the exit, Gayle pulled Y/n to the side, their voices dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Keep doing whatever you're doing, Y/n" Gayle said, a mischievous glint in her eyes, leaning in even closer "That boy is absolutely smitten.”

Y/n couldn't help but let out a soft laugh "Thanks, Gayle" she whispered back. With a final hug, Gayle retreated to her own car, leaving Y/n and Lewis to get into theirs. The tension between them thick, a charged silence that spoke volumes as Lewis held open the car door for her.

He slid into the car beside her, wasting no time in letting his hand roam up under the dress, reaching her thighs in no time. A devilish grin spreading across his face, leaned in close. "She's right, love" he murmured, his voice husky. "You've got me completely wrapped around your fingers."

The heat of his touch sent a jolt of electricity through her. He caressed the soft skin, his fingers brushing tantalizingly close to her hips. Y/n, unable to contain a shiver, bit her lip. "Lew" she breathed, her voice laced with a playful warning. "Careful now. We're not exactly alone."

He chuckled but continued his exploration, his fingertips brushing against the bare skin just above the hem of her dress. The driver, through the rearview mirror, couldn't help but steal a glance. Y/n, catching a glimpse of his reflection, couldn't help but feel a thrill of exhibitionism mixed with a playful desire to tease Lewis further.

As Lewis's hand continued its ascent, his fingers brushed against a smooth, unexpected surface. He paused, his brow furrowing in confusion. A beat of silence hung in the air before it dawned on him. No underwear.

"Couldn't risk an underwear line ruining this moment" her voice laced with a playful challenge. The audacity of her statement, coupled with the realization, made his breath hitch in his throat, raw desire clouding his eyes.

He pulled his hand back abruptly, a silent promise hanging in the air. The confined space crackling with unspoken desire.

As Y/n stole a glance at him, her heart pounded in her chest. He was trying to control himself, a clear struggle evident in the way he held his breath and clenched his jaw. The bulge in his trousers, who had been previously concealed by his trench coat, was now a very visible sign to his arousal.

"Not long until we get back, Love" Lewis finally managed, his voice husky with frustration. He leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his braids in a frustrated gesture. Y/n, a satisfied smile playing on her lips, let out a low chuckle.

Relief washed over both of them as they pulled into the hotel. A small army materialized around them. Her team, ever-efficient, whisked them towards her suite, their focus solely on getting her out of the Venus dress.

Throughout the undressing, Lewis hovered on the periphery, his eyes laser-focused on Y/n. He watched with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. Every so often, he would discreetly lick his lips, a gesture that spoke volumes of his pent-up desire.

The process was a delicate ballet – a team of stylists unhooking intricate clasps, another carefully lowering the billowing skirt. Finally, wrapped in a plush towel, Y/n stood alone with Lewis, her team discreetly melting away, a knowing smile playing on their lips.

Lewis crossed the room in two long strides, the heat of anticipation crackling in the air between them. His hand reached out, almost hesitantly, to brush a strand of her now loosened hair. The touch, seemingly casual, sent a jolt of electricity through her, igniting a fire that had been smoldering all evening.

"There you are," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "Beautiful, captivating, and all mine. Only mine."

His words hung in the air like a promise, the most possessive claim she had ever heard from him. They resonated deep within her, stirring something primal. As her heart pounded in her chest, she couldn’t help but lean into his touch, seeking solace and desire in his embrace.

"All yours," she whispered, her voice thick with longing. Their lips met in a searing kiss, a collision of pent-up desire and raw emotion. In that moment, the playful banter of the night melted away, replaced by a raw hunger that neither could – or wanted – to deny.

Each second ticked by like a whisper of urgency. They had only about twenty minutes before they were due to leave for the after-party. With practiced efficiency born of desire, she threw the towel onto the bed, leaving herself bare before him, a silent invitation hanging in the air.

Lewis's eyes roamed over her, a smirk playing on his lips as she reached down to undress him from his pants. "Don't have time for that, love," he murmured, his hands stopping hers with a swift motion.

With a sudden shift of momentum, he flipped her, his hands tracing over her tummy as he left a trail of kisses along her shoulder. Each kiss sent a shiver of anticipation coursing through her, her breath hitching with every touch of his lips against her skin.

His hands ventured lower with each kiss, until they reached her folds, his touch igniting a primal hunger within her. A low growl escaped his lips as his fingers delved into her depths, drawing out her arousal with a skillful touch that left her trembling with desire.

Feeling the urgency of their fleeting moments, she flipped around, dropping to her knees to palm him through his boxers. The outline of his thick arousal was already prominent, and she freed it eagerly, the velvet hardness filling her hands. With practiced skill, she teased him, eliciting a delicious hiss of pleasure as she took him into her mouth, savoring the taste of him.

But time was slipping away and they both knew it. Five minutes had already slipped by, according to the bedside clock. His hands gripped her chin, pulling her up "I promise later we can take our time, but I need your pussy right now," he breathed, urgency lacing his words with a desperate plea.

With a hungry nod, she positioned herself, elbows resting on the armchair, presenting herself to him with a silent invitation. The tip of his arousal teased her entrance, collecting her slickness before he plunged into her with a single, deep thrust. A sharp cry escaped her lips as he bottomed out, his hands soothing the skin of her hips as he waited for her signal to move.

"Lew" she moaned, her voice a desperate plea for release. His fingers circled her clit, igniting a fire within her as he began to move, each thrust driving her closer to the edge of oblivion.

It didn't take long before she was panting, her body trembling with the force of her climax. Lewis held her close, whispering words of encouragement as she rode the wave of ecstasy, her senses overwhelmed by the intensity of their shared passion.

As she steadied herself, he resumed his frenzied thrusts, his movements becoming more urgent as he neared his own release. With a final, deep thrust, he spilled himself inside her, holding her tightly as their bodies trembled with shared pleasure, the world fading away into a haze of ecstasy.

When he pulled out, she turned into his embrace, cupping his face in her hands as she gazed into his eyes, her heart overflowing with emotion. "They can look all they want, but you're the one here," she declared, pulling him into a passionate kiss, sealing their bond with a promise of devotion and desire.

His hands left her only briefly to clean her up before dressing himself, his movements slow and deliberate as he savored the lingering moments of what had just happened.

As he emerged in his Dior attire, abs on full display, Y/n's eyes sparkled, a playful challenge in her voice. "Guess, you're the one drawing all the attention now," she teased as she admired him.

Lewis chuckled, his gaze lingering on her in the black Dior mini. "You don't look too bad yourself, love," he countered, his voice a low rumble.

He pulled her close, his hand trailing down her back. "But trust me," he murmured, his lips brushing her ear, "tonight, the only eyes I care about are yours."

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora

[yanny-77]

Are We There Yet?

An Empyrean Drabble featuring Xaden driving the Iron Squad to the beach. He has many regrets. Mainly that Ridoc's annoying as fuck and Violet makes him way too horny for him to be comfortable trapped in the car with her best friends.

Pour one out for Sawyer's pants. Sorry for what I had to do to you, man.

Read the drabble after the break or on AO3.

“Are we there yet?” Xaden groans. This is the third time Ridoc's asked in the last five minutes. Why did his girlfriend have to get saddled with the most annoying squad in the quadrant? Couldn't she have been matched with someone cool? Someone like Bodhi or Garrick. “Not yet, Ridoc,” Violet says, endlessly patient. It’s one of the many reasons Xaden loves her. “How much longer?” Her friend whines. “About two minutes less than the last time you asked,” Xaden grumbles. “What was that, Riorson?”  Xaden glances in the rearview mirror to see Rhiannon Matthias smirking up at him from the back seat where she sits wedged between Ridoc Gamlyn and Sawyer Henrrick. Xaden’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. His white-knuckled grip is the only thing keeping him from throwing one of these assholes out a window.  “I said it’s a nice day for the beach.” “Uh-huh.” Xaden tears his eyes away from the back seat. Because Garrick and Xaden are the only ones with cars, and because Xaden is dating Violet, he’s stuck driving the children instead of riding with his friends.  It’s a tight squeeze in his Sedan, a sleek dark blue Audi. The trunk is filled with their overnight back and floaties, which means that their beach bags are in the back seat. The cooler with their drinks and sandwiches is balanced on Sawyer’s lap.  The man’s legs keep jiggling up and down, jostling the ice and sloshing the water. “I’m not the only one who’s bored. Sawyer’s all jittery.” Ridoc presses his face against the window. “I know! Let’s play a game.” A groan comes from the other side of the back seat. “Guys, I really have to pee.” “I spy with my little eye something silver,” Ridoc says, ignoring Sawyer’s announcement. “Can you hold it?” Violet asks. Xaden chances a glance at her, taking his eyes off the road. She’s turned around, looking at Sawyer in the backseat with concern. A car changes lanes and Xaden has to swerve to avoid it. “Fuck,” Sawyer whimpers as he squirms in an attempt to get comfortable. “Be careful, Xaden,” Violet scolds. “You need to keep your eyes on the road.” “It’s in this car,” Ridoc hints. “Shut up, Ridoc,” Rhiannon says. “No one cares what you spy.” “We’re only forty-five minutes away,” Xaden says, irritation lacing his words. “You can hold it.” “I can’t. I’m about to burst.” “Can you just try, Sawyer?” Violet asks placatingly. She places her hand on Xaden’s thigh, rubbing gently to calm him down. Unfortunately, her touch excites another part of his body. A part that she’s getting dangerously close to. He’s going to have to immediately whisk her away to a secluded area when they get to the beach. Or a public changing room, whichever is closer. “Then Ridoc has to take the cooler.” Sawyer shifts frantically, trying to slide the cooler across Rhiannon’s lap and onto Ridoc’s, but then they hit a bump and he starts to panic. “It’s pressing on my bladder.” “Seriously, guys?” Ridoc’s voice is incredulous as he looks around the car. “No one has a guess for something silver.” “It’s Violet’s fucking hair!” Xaden shouts. “It’s obviously her hair. What the fuck else would it be?” Gods, Ridoc was so fucking annoying. Xaden could strangle him. “Jeez, you don’t have to be so mean about it.” Ridoc goes back to looking out his window. “I’ll think of a harder one this time.” “Please don’t,” Xaden and Sawyer groan simultaneously. Ridoc kicks Xaden’s seat in response. “How about we play the silent game instead,” Violet suggests. “This is so entertaining,” Rhiannon cackles. “I’m so glad you invited us to tag along, Xaden.” There’s a high-pitched sob from the back right, and Xaden looks up to see Sawyer’s face turning red. A look of horror spreads across the man’s features. “Pull over. Right now.”

[varteeny1234]

PART 2 OF THIS :D

Summary:

The same series of events, but from Avid's point of view :3

Words: 5598

Chapter: 2/2

Warnings (PLEASE READ): Temporary character death, graphic depictions of violence, described nausea but no vomiting, intense blood and gore, cannibalism and all the emotions that come with that, extreme guilt

No romantic ships, but centers Avid & Marm's friendship :D

Avid woke up and all but jumped out of bed. He was excited for the day! He wanted to go exploring with someone today, and he knew that Marm still wanted lily pads. They could go looking for more woodland mansions together, and he might even get the chance to tell her a little bit more on why she should stop convincing people to throw themselves into the void. She didn't even know she was actively sabotaging an extremely powerful deity with her antics. Olm probably hated her more than he hated Avid himself!

He sighed. He should forget about this for today- he couldn't let it affect his mood! 

Flying away from the Jungle kingdom, he set course for Marm's mangrove swamp, whistling a happy tune under his breath, knowing and not caring that it was lost in the wind. Before long, the stepping-stone bridges below led right up to the edge of the island. He landed, jogging around with a bounce in his step. He couldn't see or hear his friend anywhere around, so he took flight again. 

"Marma1ade!" He called, jovially, as he passed over top of the two witch huts. Of course- it was still technically morning, Marm had probably stayed up too late reading and was still asleep. He laughed cheerily, of course that's what she'd have done! She really did love her books. 

He landed, and walked up the steps, opening the door of Marm's small hut. "Marm? Where are you? Are you in your hut- oh my gosh, are you okay?" 

He'd found her, at least, although not in a good state- Marm was on the floor, obviously in pain, and she was staring at him with an expression he'd never seen before. It unsettled him greatly. 

Suddenly, before he could try and help her, Marm gasped loudly, leapt towards the door, and grabbed onto him. They fell outside into the swamp. Mud and swamp plants got stuck in Avid's fur, which felt horrifically uncomfortable. He shivered. "Agh, Marm, what the heck? You got my fur all muddy! What's going on with you?" He exclaimed, rolling away from Marm, who whimpered in what he guessed was pain. Had she done something to herself? 

He stood up. "Marm? Should I call someone for help?" He cautiously stepped closer to her. Looking closer, he could see now that her eyes were the void-touched black that they were when she used her void magic. Her hands were also, strangely enough, sparkly. "Uh... your eyes are all funny," Avid frowned. 

Trying to offer a hand to help her up, maybe walk her back to the hut to see if she could tell him what happened to her, he ignored the dread that was pooling in his gut from that haunted look on her face and forced himself to smile semi-reassuringly. But Marm, quick as lightning, reached her hand out and grabbed his ankle. Her hold was much stronger than he would have expected it to be. 

"Let go of me!" With a fair amount of difficulty, Avid managed to wrench his leg away. He would be lying if there wasn't a dash of fear mixed in with his already-present feeling of worry. 

"Something's wrong, I know, but you're acting really weird, and I don't like it. I don't like anything to do with the void or your new weird magic, you know this!" Another small step backwards. "So please, enlighten me, what's going on-" 

Really, he should have expected Marm to tackle him again. His right arm was pinned above his head, and she moved too quickly for him to wiggle away this time, holding his body down as she bit down into his shoulder with what felt like fangs. 

Avid's eyes were wide in both pain and what he was no longer ashamed to admit was fear. A peek at his shoulder- which felt like it was on fire, actually- revealed a very gruesome sight. There was a whole chunk taken out of his skin, and blood was leaking everywhere into his torn clothes and mixing with the mud underneath him. 

Marm was chewing. What the fuck, she was chewing, she was eating the piece of him she'd bitten off what the fuck was happening-

He let out a scream, when Marm bit him again. His left hand was tingly. He tried to lift his arm up, a last-ditch effort at escaping this nightmare of a situation. She grabbed his wrist.

Marm did not just bite off three of his fingers- 

His throat stopped making sound, and he was probably going into some form of shock; he was hyperventilating as he watched his best friend swallow the remaining parts of his hand. This was a nightmare- this was a nightmare in all senses but literal, this had to be some of the worst pain he had ever felt in his entire life, and he had no idea why Marm was doing it! He was beginning to feel lightheaded, which was most definitely from the blood loss.

Then all of a sudden, he felt a burst of cold air on his chest combined with the same searing heat and pain that was throbbing in his entire left side. The insides of his chest were not supposed to be exposed to the outside air! His ears were ringing, and his brain was starting to feel fuzzy. However, sadly, that didn't mean the feeling of a rib cracking hurt any less- just that it meshed into the rest of it. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth, tears rushing down the sides of his face. Avid was almost startled when the pressure on his right arm vanished for a moment. 

That was then ruined by more terrible agony when he couldn't feel anything below his elbow in that arm anymore- his guess, on account of Marm detaching it.

A valiant attempt at zoning out was made, his last trick to try and escape- if only in his own mind, then so be it- but as hard as he tried, he just couldn't get himself to focus on anything except the unbearable torment when he felt what had to be Marm's hand dig inside his chest and break off one of his ribs. It was as uncomfortable as it hurt... 

And the hand kept pulling his ribs out of his chest, one by one, the sound of his bones snapping one that he knew he'd never be able to forget. He couldn't muster up the energy to even move, anymore. Avid was barely able to force himself to keep breathing, which he did in fast, quick breaths. His heartbeat was pounding in his eardrums. He almost didn't notice that Marm stopped her assault on the parts of his body that he was still attached to. 

It was a very short reprieve, and it was broken when he felt her reach back inside his chest and there was a weird pressure in the middle and then suddenly everything went quiet because there was no more heartbeat he couldn't hear it he couldn't feel it Avid didn't have a heart in his chest anymore-

Avid fell off the top bunk in the Jungle kingdom's treehouse with a gasp. 

Luckily, he was able to catch himself with his arms that he was incredibly grateful were now both attached to his body and in one piece. He tried to stand up, using the wall as a support. The dizziness hit him full-force, and he took about three wobbly steps in one of the directions before tripping over his own feet and landing on the floor again. Something was uncomfortable, he realized... oh, his arm was stuck underneath his body. 

Rolling over gave him only a second of relief, since the sturdy wooden floor disappeared out from underneath him, and he was at least lucky enough to find himself bouncing on the slime packed underneath layers of moss outside on the actual island parts of the kingdom. 

As soon as he stopped bouncing, he sank into the slime, and it was nice until his brain spit out the thought that it was too sticky, too similar to blood, he's back in the other swamp, he's in the mud, his body is being torn apart and he violently flung himself away from it onto the worn dirt path, landing on his stomach again. Avid felt itchy all over, like his fur was trying to rip itself off of him. His upper body felt tingly. And he had a headache. Phantom pains remained in his left shoulder and chest, pulsing, and after a somewhat pitiful try at sitting up, he collapsed onto the ground. 

He had died, he realized. Marm had killed him. 

...More specifically, she'd eaten him alive and that had killed him because not having a heart was a really good way to die. He shuddered, remembering how silent everything had been once his heart was gone. Marm had really just pulled it out of his chest, hadn't she?

And now, here he was, freshly respawned, back home safe and sound. 

The tip of Avid's tail was rapidly flicking all over the place, and his foot was twitching. His hand wandered around and found some vines, and he held onto one of the stems as tight as he could, flipping one of the leaves back and forth with his thumb. It did help to relax him a little bit- leaves were one of the better things to fidget with whenever he got particularly antsy.

Still, lying on the floor facedown for a day or two to recover sounded like a nice idea. 

~~~~

Not nearly enough time had passed when the ringing in Avid's ears returned. He had been mostly relaxed, even! 

Well, his brain had finally realized he wasn't in any pain anymore. He still couldn't sit still, but to be fair, that hadn't really ever been something he was good at.

The noise was... getting louder, now, which was annoying. But it had to pass eventually! It was just some background noise that wasn't really there, a very faint high-pitched screeching, something that would go away within a few seconds. 

Any second now. 

Any second now.

Alright, maybe it wasn't going to go away for a bit. It would be fine, Avid could still do things! His original plans for the day, exploring with Marm, were definitely cancelled, but there was a lot of building left to do that he could busy himself with. 

He sat up, slowly, finding the ladder up to the treehouse and holding onto it. The dizziness was gone, which was a pleasant surprise. Nothing was in actual pain, he just felt kind of fuzzy underneath his skin. That was normal, probably. He wanted to remember as little of the past hour or however-long-it-had-been as possible, but the ghost of the sensation of Marm's nails tearing underneath the layers of his skin and ripping it off made him shiver. 

And, once he remembered Marm, an sickening concoction of fear and guilt and worry mixed its way into his stomach. Going back to the swamp was off the table for at least a while; Avid might be concerned about how strange she'd been, however, he wasn't ready to go back to the place he'd just been attacked. Not yet. Later, probably- once he was feeling better and trusted himself to make a quick escape if needed.

He didn't want to think about what she'd done to him, but he couldn't shake the thought she just hadn't been acting like herself! In fact, the magical-looking sparkles showering from her hands and her wide, dark eyes were signs that she'd been suffering from her own void magic. 

The void! Of course it was the void at work again- that stupid thing just couldn't leave Marm alone. Why did it always have to come back to the void?!

Avid facepalmed. The sound he was hearing wasn't his ears ringing at all, it was the void. What did it want with him, though? 

Remembering a conversation he'd had with Marm a long time ago, he assumed that if the void was screaming at him, then Marm must be unavailable to... feed it, or whatever. Well, it was out of luck, since throwing himself into the void on purpose was absolutely NEVER going to happen. 

"You listen to me, uh, void!" Avid shouted. "I'm not going to jump down there! You're just going to have to find someone else for that!"

He would just put up with the noise. It couldn't get that much worse. 

~~~~

Avid was wrong, the noise could and did get so, so much worse.

It was so loud he could hardly hear his own thoughts. He had even tried fleeing up to the top of the ant farm, to get as far away from the void as possible, and his efforts only proved fruitless. The sound didn't fade the slightest bit no matter where he went. 

He looked over the edge of the rope bridge, seeing the Underswamp below. Jumping off, he aimed for where he'd aimed a thousand times before, an island he knew the exact location of. But when he fell, his heart dropped- he missed the slime island platforms entirely! He missed the vines and the waterfalls, unable to climb or swim back upwards, and he'd forgotten to wear his elytra. 

The void below suffocated him, its cold embrace an unsettling feeling. No matter how familiar the feeling was, he couldn't shake the horrid sensations away. The sounds of the void's screeching didn't change in volume.

When Avid respawned for the second time that day, he realized with great irritation that the void hadn't shut up. 

He'd fallen and died! Was that not what Marm always did to feed it? What was he supposed to do, then, if it wasn't hungry?

Marm. She might know. Or... maybe the void magic was still tormenting her and she wouldn't be able to do anything. He wouldn't know unless he went to go and look himself... 

If he ended up getting jumped again, and still wasn't able to figure out why the heck the void was still trying to get him to do something, he didn't know what would happen. But he was getting really sick of the sound, so he decided to cut his losses and fly over right then. 

Avid grabbed nothing other than his elytra and some rockets, and began the short flight over to the Mangrove swamp- again, for the second time that day. The sound of the wind rushing by went nearly unnoticed. 

Once the lush dark greens and murky browns and greys of the swamp appeared, he clenched his fists. Whatever happened next, no matter what it was, it was going to change the entire relationship between him and Marm... him and the person he'd consider one of his closest friends. 

The sign that alerted him he was entering the Mangrove kingdom flashed its loud warning- enter at his own risk, indeed- and then, surprising him enough that he nearly fell out of the sky, the void went completely silent! 

It didn't fade out. It didn't go slowly, it just stopped. All of a sudden, it was there, and then it was gone, like it had never even existed in the first place. The silence left a ringing in his ear- he wasn't quite readjusted to the lack of screaming yet. 

Just because he was here now didn't mean he was going to land right away. He flew over the swamp, trying to see if he could spot Marm anywhere, but if she was still here, she was hidden well. Avid touched down a little ways away from where he'd been last time, in front of Marm's hut. He still couldn't see or hear Marm anywhere nearby. 

Slowly, he walked over to where he knew he'd been... attacked. The evidence of what had happened was still left behind. A large pool of blood sat in the mud and muck. 

Avid's blood. Stuff that had been inside his body just that morning.

He shuddered involuntarily. 

He still had a mission: to find Marm. The void had shut up once he'd entered the swamp, so he didn't need her help with that anymore, of course, but some voice inside his brain told him that if he left the kingdom now, the noise would start right back up again. 

There were smears of more blood on the ground that led over to a small pool of water, in a cluster of trees. Avid cautiously walked over. He mentally applauded himself for not running away or turning back, even though he was definitely physically shaking. The blood trail ended in the water. Marm must have tried to clean herself off. 

A soft sound came from behind the curtain of vines to his side. Avid recognized it... it sounded like someone gasping a small breath as quietly as they could, when they didn't want to be heard or found. 

Well, he'd found Marm. 

"Marm? Are you in there?" He called as gently as he could, hoping he didn't sound scared. 

There was the same sound again, but louder this time. She was definitely hiding under this tree. Avid didn't peek under the roots, but there was no way he was leaving. "Marm? I... I really need to talk to you. You scared me real bad! Uh... you're, like, yourself again, right? You're not planning on attacking me out of nowhere?" He tried for a chuckle, but it fell flat.

Listening closely, he heard her voice, barely above a whisper. "Sorry" was what he was pretty sure she'd said- he wasn't completely sure. Still, that was enough evidence for him. Marm was definitely herself again if she was hiding away here, whispering apologies to him. But she sounded like she was hurting, too...

Avid pulled the vines to the side, crawling underneath the mangrove roots to join her. He surprised himself with his remaining jitteriness, his legs still trembling. He plopped down in the water and mud, caring much less about his fur getting messy again once he saw the state that Marm was in.

She was still absolutely covered in blood, but it did look like she'd tried to wash it off her hands and face, at the very least. The dark browns and greys of mud streaked down her dress. Her hair was tangled and wild, and the plants that normally decorated it were gone. Avid didn't know if they were there by magic or not- he hadn't asked. Marm looked weird without them. 

When she looked up at him, his heart ached. Her eyes were purple again. Their ordinary, non-magical, un-corrupted, healthy purple. And the sadness, the regret, the guilt reflected in them almost let him forget what she'd done to him. 

Even if Avid hadn't heard her crying, he'd be able to tell. The water might have erased the tear-tracks on her face, but her reddened eyes gave it all away.

How- how could he try and start a conversation? He still needed to talk to Marm. The void, in his opinion, could go fuck itself, it had not only done something to Marm that led to him being eaten alive, but whatever had happened to her during that whole thing had completely destroyed her too. How could someone possibly try and talk about that? What was there to even say? 

He tried and failed to find the words. He shifted where he was sitting, unable to stay still. Across the small hideaway, Marm was still silent. Did... did she know what had happened? 

Avid got ready to say something, but accidentally made eye contact with a suddenly-more-alert Marm, and whatever he was about to say died on his tongue. He gaped, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. Quick, say something, say something! 

"So... I'm going to assume it was something involving void stuff. Something you probably didn't know about before, like, today. Is that right?" He mentally applauded himself. He'd stuttered a bit, but he got through it!

The look Marm gave him, even through her clearly-just-crying eyes, almost made him snort. She nodded, but didn't say anything. 

Right...

Avid recalled, at some point in the past, Marm mentioning that when she got especially overwhelmed she wouldn't be able to talk much- or at all. It was entirely unsurprising that... this... would cause that to happen.

"Yes-or-no questions only, for now?" He asked, receiving another nod. That was fine- he could work wit this! "Alright... yeah, that's fair," he reassured her. "So the void or its magic inside you or something relating to those things made you go all weird, and you didn't know. Did it start this morning, when I came to see you?" 

Starting point. Whatever had happened, the void was at fault. Baby steps.

She shook her head, which surprised him. He'd have thought she had only just today been affected. "Huh. Within the past couple of days? I'd have noticed if you were acting weird before then." 

Yes. Well, that wasn't the worst it could be. At least it was... dealt with... soon? He frowned. He didn't understand why the void would have done something like this. And even more so, he didn't understand why it had screeched at him until he'd come back to the swamp.

"I'll be honest, I still have no idea what the void could have done to you, but I don't think it meant to hurt you, because it really, really seemed to want me to come back here," he admitted, watching Marm fiddle with something under the shallow water. She looked surprised to hear him say that. 

He explained. "Oh, yeah. As soon as I respawned, I was, well, a little bit out of it, you know? But the void didn't like something I was doing, because it started to make an infernal screeching noise after about fifteen minutes. I remembered you saying that that meant the void was probably hungry, but I wasn't about to throw myself into the void to feed it or anything, so I didn't. I was worried about you, of course, but also wasn't sure whether I wanted to come back here just yet, in case I'd get, well, attacked." 

Shrugging, Avid hoped his rambles made sense. He sighed, continuing. "It didn't freaking shut up. I couldn't do much around my base with the noise, and I don't even remember what I was doing when it happened, but I tried to jump down into the Underswamp. And, well, I missed. I could've sworn I put a landing pad there."

Now that he really thought about it, the void might have had something to do with that too.  "But I fell into the void, and nothing happened other than I respawned again." He threw his hands in the air, frustrated. "So I knew then at least that the void wasn't trying to kill me. I decided, why the heck not, I'll come and see you. If you're feeling better, then you might be able to help me, and if not, then I'd probably figure something out."

Marm was staring at him strangely, but she didn't make any indication that she wanted to communicate anything. Avid noticed his hands were clenched into fists. He plucked off one of the leaves of a vine near him to fidget with. The texture of the veins was nice. Leaves were nice. Taking a deep breath, he finished. 

"As soon as I saw the sign that declared I was officially in the Mangrove kingdom, the void stopped its racket. I looked around, but I didn't see you anywhere, but I did see the... mess." He shivered involuntarily, remembering the enormous puddle of his blood just outside Marm's hut. "There were some smears on the ground that led over here, and I guess you know the rest." Was 'some smears' a severe under-exaggeration? Yes, but neither of them needed to be any more freaked out than they already were.

Avid didn't know what else there was for him to say. Marm's brows were furrowed, so he assumed she was thinking over... something, but he was clearly missing some important context or a vital detail or- or maybe he just hadn't connected the dots? 

People occasionally teased him for being oblivious, for not seeing the obvious when it was right in front of him. Usually he'd laugh along with them- they never meant it maliciously, and to be honest, he did often miss things without meaning to. 

Now, though, it was just annoying. He needed to help his friend, because she was hurting, and he knew what had caused it but nothing about how or why it had, let alone how he could make it go away! 

He grit his teeth. The leaf in his hand had a small split on the edge where he'd squeezed it too hard. 

Then, Marm moved. Avid's head snapped up, his mind jumping back to the present moment, and he watched as she began to cry, splashing in the water. "Marm?" He reached out to her, taking care to keep his voice quiet. She looked torn, but did end up taking his hand and letting him gently pull her close to him. 

Once she was settled, Avid asked her one last question. 

"Do you just want to sit here for a while?" 

Marm nodded a yes.

~~~~

Avid sat with Marm for a while, holding her hand and letting his mind wander. Marm would talk about what had happened when she was ready to, even if he really wanted to know what she knew. But to be fair, he knew he wouldn't be able to get through the whole conversation without struggling. 

The leaf he had been messing with was starting to fall apart, it had a few more cracks now. Avid ran his finger over the smooth edge.

Suddenly, Marm made a sound, like a soft hum. Looking over, he smiled reassuringly. "You feeling better? Do you think you can talk again?" He asked. 

"Yeah... thank you, Avid," she whispered, her voice slightly scratchy-sounding. 

He smiled a little wider. "Of course, that's what friends are for. Um... I'm ready to talk about... you know. The thing that happened." 

...And that's a point for past-Avid, guessing correctly that he'd immediately stutter through his first sentence...

Marm gave him the driest look he'd ever seen. "What, my void magic having the unfortunate side effect of making me lose control of myself and eating my friend alive? That thing?" 

He rolled his eyes humorously. "Uh-huh. That." Marm had to have at least one theory on what the void had done. "So, even if we know it was your void magic that did it, I'm drawing a complete blank on why it did that, do you have any ideas?" He asked.

"...Actually, I think I do," she answered after a beat of silence. But she'd said it with much more confidence than he'd expected, even if he was sure she'd have more of a clue than him.

"Wait, really?" He exclaimed, louder than he meant to.

He opened his mouth again to apologize, but Marm kept going. "I think- at least, I'm pretty sure- that the void's need to eat somehow transferred over to me through the magic." 

What? That- that was...!

"I don't know why, or how, just that my teeth are sharper and my hands are stronger, and seeing you this morning when I had been feeling the hunger for a day literally made me lose my mind."

Avid tried to collect his spinning thoughts. He whistled, breathing out roughly through his teeth. "Wow. That's... wow!" He laughed, out of shock, probably. Marm's theory was almost too believable. It was, quite frankly, horrifying... 

Especially the fact that the void, supposedly, didn't just get hungry once. 

"It makes a little, teeny-tiny bit of sense, though?" He cringed. "Wait... the void has to- ugh, I hate this- eat somewhat often, according to you anyways, or else it'll start going after bridges and things. 'The balance will be disrupted' and all that. Right?"

Marm bowed her head. "Yeah. Unfortunately, I do think that I'll have to eat every once in a while. I don't think I could handle it if not, nothing I tried could get rid of the feeling- and it only ever got worse."

"That must have been- that sounds awful, I'm really sorry you had to go through that," Avid gently rubbed the back of Marm's hand. He felt her shiver once, but she didn't pull away. "If it helps, I don't hold it against you for any of it. I'm never going to be a fan of the void, but you're still my friend, and that won't change because you were corrupted by some ancient, powerful entity!"

He hoped that, if she ever found out about the forever-crying shadow, the piece of him that was still trapped in that awful place where no one could help him, she would extend the same mercy to him for all that he was doing to keep other people away from there.

That she wouldn't be mad at him for making the choices he'd made, just wanting the place and the people he cared about to be safe and out of Olm's reach. Olm could have Avid, but damn it, they wouldn't be going anywhere near his friends if he had anything to say about it. Not that he could, realistically, do much to actually stop them, but Olm wouldn't need to hurt anyone else if Avid let them do whatever he wanted with him.

Would Marm be upset about that choice of his?

Avid brushed off the lingering feelings of guilt- Marm wasn't done talking, he could go wallow in his own sadness later.

"I'm glad," she said. "I was a little worried you'd be mad at me, or at the very least be uncomfortable around me..." She trailed off, looking thoughtful for a moment. "...I have a question. It's okay if the answer is no," she looked up at him, and he steeled himself for whatever it could be that she was about to ask of him. "I told you already that I'm probably going to get hungry again. Would you... ugh. Hang on." Avid was pretty sure he knew what she was about to ask, and he already knew what his answer would be. He watched as she reached up and tugged on a strand of her hair- one of her nervous habits. "If, or when I start feeling weird again, could you... help me?"

There it was. 

He would, of course, help her with whatever she'd need, but he did want to make a couple of clarifications. "Well, I guess it does make sense to ask me. It's alright with me, I think, as long as I get a quick heads-up beforehand and all that. I don't really want to be surprised. That part wasn't very fun- who am I kidding, none of it was fun. It hurt a lot. But if it's something you need, I'm not opposed to an arrangement of sorts," he rambled, all in one breath.

"Oh, thank you!" Marm started to cry again, but it seemed to be out of gratefulness this time, thankfully. "I don't know what I'd do without you- of course I'll let you know. It was a full day at least before it got bad enough to hurt, I'll definitely be coherent enough to know what's happening before I lose control." She rested her head on his shoulder.

Well, then, that was that- as long as Avid had a little bit of time to mentally prepare for getting... eaten alive, everything would be fine- wait, did she say that it'd been hurting?!

"Wait, it was hurting you? You never mentioned that part!" He almost-shouted. He felt a little bit less bad about the volume this time.

"...Oops?"

"Marm!" He sighed in affectionate exasperation, dropping his head on top of hers. "You were dealing with pain on top of weird void corruption? How bad was it?"

"When you get hungry enough to really, really feel it, only ten times worse. I was running on pure adrenaline when you found me."

Marm's words sunk in, just adding even more horror and guilt to the mix. He caught himself subconsciously holding her hand just a bit tighter.

"I'll come see you before I let it get anywhere close to that bad, don't worry, Avid. It just feels a little weird in the beginning, mild discomfort at the most. I'm fine," she explained.

He grumbled. He hated the void. Every new thing he heard about it was only more fuel on the fire. "Stupid void, why does it have to do this..."

She snorted, and Avid thought he felt her smiling. "Thank you, again. I'm glad we're friends," she said.

"Always, Marm." He turned his body, dropping his leaf and watching it float away out of the corner of his eye. He used his now-free hand to hold Marm's more securely. "I've got you," he murmured.

Even if he hated the void, he could never hate his best friend. If Marm needed someone to be there for her, he would show up.

But right now, he was content to just hold her, comforting her, and listen to the sound of the wind rustling in the trees. 

And she was, too, clearly- after a short time, she was relaxed enough to fall asleep.

[ratatatastic]

"Who's idea was it to put the cone on your head for the parade? Was that all you?" "Zach Eisenberg [Director, Executive Operations]—I think is his name—he takes care of us a lot at Amerant Bank Arena. I don't know his exact role with the team but he's just kind-of always around, and helps us out. He's friends with Brooks [Koepka.] I think he helps Brooks when he comes to the games. Anyways he found a pylon or I think I might have told him—I was pretty drunk at the time but I think I told him to go get a py—'if you could find a pylon, find one!' 'Cuz they sprung that speech on me, kind-of, last second, you know, five minutes before I was supposed to go up there. I'm like, 'What the fuck am I gonna say?' So I had him go grab the pylon and I grabbed it on the side of the stage right before I was gonna do my speech. And luckily all the clips are of that, you know, me telling him to go fuck himself... 'cuz the rest of my speech was terrible. There's really nothing to it! And I'm so happy that, you know, all the clips are only of that so!" "Yeah, we didn't know you said anything else! I thought that was the entire speech!" "That's all that matters!" "Exactly, exactly! I got away with it there!"

The Cam & Strick Podcast | 7.30.24 (x)

i love finding out they basically told ekky he was gonna have to do a whole speech 5 minutes before he was up while hes been drenched from rainwater and alcohol for like the past 6 hours absolutely pissed out of his mind like yeah no wonder his speech basically culminated to THANK YOU SOUTH FLORIDA AND ALSO GIVE IT UP FOR MY D PARTNER WOOOOO yeah that tracks

"But what golf tournament* were you at shortly after that? Somebody was dressed like a cone? Was that Lomberg who was dressed in like a costume? A cone costume?" "He came—Brooks came up to you—" "No, that was his buddy, that was his buddy. He was actually a Sunrise police officer. I actually saw him last night at the Zach Bryan concert! But yeah, no, that's one of his buddies. No, he was completely put to bed the day after. Right? Like he texted me—I personally didn't care, like, how many people at a hockey game are calling me a cone and telling Barkov he's got no hands like it's—you know, that's hockey. That's sports, right? So I didn't give a shit but—yeah, no, it was all in good fun. And then I got a way to get him back! It's perfect!" "But when you did see the first video of him in the box—and I remember watching that, I'm like, 'this motherfucker is rolling esctasy!' His eyes were fuckin' gigantic, he's like, 'Aaargghh.' Like, 'I can't take him, he's calling me a cone! I can't—' But that is kind-of odd that a professional athlete is gonna call you a cone and he's like a fan of yours...it's just—it was really bizarre!" "Goofy!" "Yeah..." "And his eyes were black which, you know..." "What does that mean?" "I just know what that means... and he was fucked up, you know..." "Yeah, yeah! He was definitely fucked up and he agreed that he was fucked up. And he apologised so I didn't care, obviously. And then when I was at that golf event I should've thrown a beer at his backswing or something—at the LIV event when he was actually competing? I should've fucked with him but I couldn't do it... I couldn't—I couldn't find the courage to throw something at him..." "So did he reach out to you like that night? And say, 'Hey, dude... I was just joking, you know...'" "'I took some pills and...'"

*2023 LIV Golf Team Championship (Miami) held from Oct. 20-22 in Doral

[and i suppose more context here lombo and koepka are friends and he even showed up to his cupday when he went golfing in parkland and not to mention that lombo facilitated koepka apologising to ekky so its why the whole cone costume came to be really]

theres a lot more context about this incident and the ensuing storm after it so for archival sakes here are articles about it (x)(x)(x)(x)(x) because its quite a saga but its water under the bridge and there's only so much tabloid-esque coverage thats been reignited after the ekky speech i can take about an athlete who's dumb enough to insult another guy while hes drunk off as his ass in a fucking public setting

but anyways i think its really funny that i said to myself wow thats an oddly petty thing to admit to you know the whole wanting to throw a beer at his backswing ekky... for such a good vibes sweet man who like the only thing youve particularly said about the cone novella is "we'll never be buddies" to which you quickly retracted and then went "holding ill will against somebody and pulling negativity in your body is never a good thing"

and then i remembered who he attended the liv event with and it all made sense

behind every aqua whos being a little mean there is a much worse much more evil looming presence who is encouraging them down this dark path (a gem but especially a june gem)

truly a tale as old as time

[xoxiu]

twinkle - ot7 x reader

chapter 07 table of contents masterlist

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summary: she had just wanted attention, that’s why she kept texting the strange number, updating him on everything in her life. little did she know how dangerous this relationship actually was. it had been jimin’s idea to kidnap the girl, but the ability to travel across the world to actually do it had been all hoseok’s doing. convenient how some things work, right? they knew that they were destined to have their baby with them, whether she wanted it or not.

tags/warnings: kidnapping, forced age regression, spanking, noncon, mafia au, drug use, stockholm syndrome, caregiver!bts, little!reader, nonsexual, diapers, panic attacks, fluff and angst, sickfic, referenced child abuse, unrequited love

a/n: i wrote this fic in 2018 on ao3 and wattpad, but im putting it here for archival reasons ♡

Yoongi was awoken by loud screams coming from the nursery. At first, he tried to ignore it, hoping someone who was fully awake would calm her down. Whoever was in there obviously was not succeeding at keeping the girl quiet, and Yoongi decided to place matters into his own hands. 

Throwing the door open, the blonde was met with the sight of Jin attempting to change Ophelia, who was fighting the older man at almost every move he made. Jin held Ophelia's wrists on her stomach, the other hand trying to remove her pajama bottoms. Ophelia had rolled herself onto her side on the edge of the changing table, the only the keeping her from falling off being Jin's own body. With a loud sigh, Yoongi violently slammed the door shut, causing two sets of eyes to now look at him.

Ophelia froze up, looking at the blonde in fear. Jin had previously warned her that she would wake 'Daddy' up if she continued being so loud, and that he would not be happy to be woken up after working all night. Ophelia had called bullshit then, but now that she was face-to-face with the rather short yet intimidating man, she suddenly feared for her life. 

Wordlessly, he approached. Jin sent Ophelia a look that said 'I told you so' as he let go of her, standing off to the side as to not interfere. Once Yoongi was standing over the smaller girl, she suddenly became aware of just how childish she had previously been acting.

Yoongi grabbed her ankles and lifted them up, exposing her bottom in the process. Before Ophelia could realize what was going on, heavy smacks were laid across the exposed skin, the sound alone causing her face to redden in embarrassment. She hid her face in her arm as tears started to fall after a dozen smacks or so.

Seeing as she was compliant now, Yoongi quickly changed her out of her sleep clothes and into a legless purple and white onesie and a diaper. Ophelia still had her face in the crook of her arm, refusing to look at Yoongi nor letting anyone look at her. Yoongi couldn't hear her small sobs (due to her arm muffling them) until he had picked her up into his arms, bouncing her gently to soothe her. He whispered softly to her and gave small kisses to her temple, but she would not settle in his arms. Ophelia, not wanting to be held by her abuser, reached a hand out towards Jin. While she didn't want to be with either of them, the taller man seemed more preferable, considering he hadn't caused her any physical pain so far. 

Jin felt his heart actually break when Ophelia reached out to be held by him, a red-rimmed and puffy eye peeking out from Yoongi shoulder almost begging him to take her. He quickly put her in his own arms, and Ophelia immediately clung to him, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. Jin gently rocked her to calm her down. 

"I think someone needs a nap," Yoongi said, stroking Ophelia's pink hair before placing a kiss to the top of her head.

"She woke up from one just now," Jin clarified, noting how Ophelia seemed uncertain of Yoongi's touch. She was torn between pulling away from the affection and taking it in, further reminding Jin of just how little love the girl had received before right now. "Jimin said she hasn't eaten breakfast just yet. I think she's just hungry. Are you hungry, baby?"

All Jin got in response was a shaky breath followed by a choked sob. 

[hopeforkitten]

Raphael entered the boudoir and did not expect to see Tav in his bed. she curled up on top of the sheets, so small on this red hulk. he could have driven her away, he would have done so earlier, but over the months she really showed her usefulness. everything that depended on her was done. she presented him with a bunch of new contracts, was polite and executive, did not ask unnecessary questions and did not complain about the amount of work.

he knew that she had spent the last night studying his client records, first with the help of Korilla, and then she went to bed according to her schedule and Tav was left alone with the scrolls until morning, she spent the day running through scheduled meetings. he remember that mortals can die from lack of sleep and exhaustion, and rested they work better.

displeasure flashed across Raphael's face. it can't be that smooth, can it? there's still nothing to punish her for, it's boring. he could make her life hell for no reason, what's stopping him?

he rolled his eyes, walked over and covered her with a sheet, then turned around and left the boudoir

(I swear, Korilla will tell you later that it was a test from Raphael and he deliberately dumped all the work on Tav, and sent Korilla on vacation. however, Tav guessed that this was so)

_______________________________

- today I want you to spend the day in my house, no other errands

- can you be more specific, rules, instructions, to-do list?"

- if you want to, then you can try to make my house even more perfect.

there are a dozen debtors walking around the house that are constantly cleaning, how can you make it better?

for several hours, Tav slowly wandered around the house, examining every meter. such a small person staring at infernal walls and ceilings really looks like a mouse. as a result, Tav found only a few dusty places that the debtors did not notice, coped with them with one movement of a wet rag and finally she reached the archive.

the noisiest wing of the house, and it's not even the noise of the hell coming from the balcony, the source of the noise was also the archivist. he was obviously doing a recount, but most of the time he wandered back and forth through the archive, shifting documents and exclaiming about his failures

Tav slipped to the table, so that the unlucky employee did not hurt her, and began to look at the intricate tables in the book.

only a few minutes later, the archivist noticed her, chuckled, but could not hide his admiration following the actions of Raphael's favorite toy.

how much grace there was in this mouse when she deftly shifted the scrolls with data and transferred their table in a special order, she never sat down on a chair, her back went down and up like a tin soldier, while elegant fingers entered data with a thin pen.

Tav woke up on the sofa by the wall of the archive, the first thing she saw was Raphael, he was standing at the table where she worked, an open book filled with her hand was lying on it, and on the edge was a stack of neatly wound scrolls. The devil meticulously examines the tables, he really wants to find a mistake in them, but everything is perfect. I can't immediately remember when there was such an order in the archive.

Tav sat up and finally he turned in her direction and couldn't help but smile.

- dear friend, this time you didn't even need instructions to fulfill my wish. so you have passed all the necessary probation periods and checks, now it remains to determine your rightful place in this house. now you will have a schedule with working and non-working days, more freedom, I need to introduce you to another resident of this house, as well as your new place - my bed

Raphael did not expect Tav to answer his monologue at all, so he turned around and went to the other wing of the house. Tav continued to sit on the sofa without completely throwing off the shackles of sleep and in the process of realizing what the master said. which of these is more surprising?

Raphael coughed demonstratively from the corridor, as if beckoning her, and Tav took off from her seat, and almost fell in the doorway of the archive, ran to him

[sea-side-scribbles]

Solas wakes up in the strange new world of his own making and it terrifies him. Ridden with guilt, he joins the Inquisition and begins his lonely research in order to correct his mistake.

He doesn’t expect to find consolation in the presence of a human who wields ancient elven magic without knowing it. Who is way too gentle for an elgar’thanelan, but doesn’t know that either.

Solas, for his part, doesn’t know how to stay away.

Dorian wonders if the mysterious elf just enjoys playing with a Tevinter. He wouldn’t expect anything else.

_____________________

Chapter 1- 13 | Right after uthenera, Solas is found by a Dalish clan. This goes well until it doesn’t. (Basically my excuse for world building and hilarious misunderstandings.)

Chapter 14 | Solas joins the Inquisition.

Chapter 20 | Dorian appears in Haven.

Chapter 34

Running down the stairs, they came across Ellana and Cassandra, whose conversation had also been interrupted by the alarm. Then Blackwall appeared at Solas' side with an unruly cussing Sera. Varric found them when they were almost at the gates.

Arriving at their destination, the party met Leliana, Josephine and Cullen. Cassandra pressed forward, demanding answers from the Commander and he shocked her by saying that there was a massive force approaching Haven, under no banner. They looked up in time to see the army coming down the mountain.

“No...!”

Solas' stomach turned.

Dorian heard him and eyed him curiously.

“Assaulting the sky surely brought some attention”, Blackwall grunted as gloomy as always.

“Shit, shit, shit, pissbag arsehole cock pricks!”, Sera shouted at his side.

Then something detonated behind the gate. Everyone drew their weapons, until a meek voice pleaded: “I can't come in unless you open!”

They stared at each other, confused. It was Ellana who dashed forward and pushed the heavy doors open. They gave way to a single soldier with a battleaxe, who staggered over a pile of his dead companions into her direction. Not quite a threat, but Cullen rushed to her aid anyway.

Then the soldier suddenly fell and a harmless looking young man appeared behind him, with nothing but leather clothes for protection and a dagger. The wide brim of his hat covered most of his face.

Solas eyed the dead enemies around him.

Did he...?

“I'm Cole”, he said in a dreamy manner. “I came to warn you. To help. People are coming to hurt you. You probably already know.”

Solas couldn't stop staring at him.

“What is this? What's going on?”, Ellana blurted out, obviously just as confused.

His voice deepened dramatically. “The templars come to kill you.”

Now Cullen flared up: “Templars? Is this the Order's response to our talks with the mages? Attacking blindly?”

He startled Cole, who hurried behind Ellana's back. From there, he whispered: “The red templars went to the Elder One. You know him? He knows you. You took his mages.”

“I know that man...” Cullen rasped, squinting at the mountain. “But this Elder One...”

“Creators!” Ellana gasped at the sight of the monster that appeared by the templar's side.

“He's very angry that you took his mages”, Cole said as if he felt the anger himself.

Ellana urged the Commander: “Cullen, give me a plan! Anything!”

“Haven is no fortress”, he analysed quickly. “If we are to withstand this monster, we must control the battle. Get out there and hit that force! Use everything you can!” He pointed at the trebuchets at the fence.

Ellana understood.

She and her party ran to save the village while Cullen's voice roared behind them, riling up the mages against an unknown enemy. When Solas heard hundreds of voices shout back, his skin crawled.

How many of them were really ready to give their lives?

“Bull!”, Ellana cried as the Qunari appeared with his Chargers. “Help us protect the trebuchets! We need to throw all we have at these monsters!”

“No problem, Boss!”, the Qunari growled. “You heard her, guys! It's smashing time!”

Solas looked around, but it seemed Cole had disappeared, just like that.

“What are red templars?”, he thought out loud, regretting that it was too late to ask.

“Oh, fuck that!”, Varric of all people took up the thread. “Fuck all of that!"

“Care to elaborate, Master Tethras?”

“I knew that red Lyrium would come back to bite us in the ass!”

“Red Lyrium! Yes, you have a point!”

“I'm glad to help. Can't share your enthusiasm, though.”

“Varric?” Ellana caught up on them. “Any advice?”

“Stay the fuck away from those templars!”

“No touching, no licking the creepy templars”, Dorian concluded. “Got it.”

“Is that your battleplan, my dear?”, Vivienne appeared behind them. A magical blade glowed in her hand until she quenched it to return the handle to her back.

“All we have is the trebuchets”, Ellana repeated. “We need to protect them as long as we can!”

Vivienne glanced at the fence, calculating.

“Take your position at the front of the battle, Knight Enchanter”, Solas added.

That earned him a faint smirk and a nod. Solas guessed she didn't approve of losing her life here, but she considered it possible.

She sliced her way towards the gate, where the mages and soldiers defended the bottleneck.

The templars that came through ran into the Chargers – and Ellana's squad. Some of them resembled humans, others had turned into fearsome creatures with lumps of mutated flesh and red crystals breaking through their skin.

Their song rang in Solas' ears. He made sure to keep the barriers intact.

“Withstand their call!”, he shouted at Dorian over the noise.

“Aww, must I? I meant to run into their arms and put flower wreaths around their necks!”, the Necromancer responded sarcastically as he threw flames at them.

Solas snorted at his humour at death's door. He really began to like this man.

They defended the north trebuchet until it fired, causing a short cheerful moment for everyone. But then they noticed the southern one wasn't firing and had to see what was wrong. Of course, there was a mob of templars surrounding it.

“Stinky frigging templar bollockfaces! Oh, supplies!”, Sera shouted and dashed for a chest. The party gladly followed.

The templars were eerily adamant, fighting with even many of their limbs missing or bloodied, as if driven by a different force than their own willpower. Sera's poison melted their flesh, but they charged at Cassandra and Blackwall either way, who had to keep away from both the poison and the Lyrium.

Solas felt Cassandra's smite before it slammed a templar onto the ground.

“They do not like that”, she gloated at their fate.

As they fought, Ellana ran up to the trebuchet to align it and fire. The shot caused an avalanche that rolled down the slope and took the hostile army with it.

Suddenly, there was silence.

The party broke out in cheers, out of breath and bleeding, but then they heard a screech and a red projectile from the sky shot into their direction. Running away with all of their strength, they felt the heat on their backs when the trebuchet exploded.

Solas spotted a pair of grey wings disappearing behind a mountain.

“A dragon!”

“And now the day is really ruined!” Dorian came to a halt next to him.

Solas cast him a short glance, but there was no time to waste.

The beast left a swath of destruction in its way. It was about to destroy the village and there was little they could do.

“Is everyone still alive?” Sera popped up behind them. “I think I am...almost...”

“Back to the gates!”, Ellana shouted “We need a new plan!”

Many houses burned and crumbled already. They saw a man kicking against a pile of boxes that blocked the door of the smithy.

“Harrit!” Blackwall recognised him and ran off to help. “Beardy!”, Sera shouted after him. “Wait!”

The warden threw himself against the obstacles and the wood splintered as it gave in. The door flew open and Harrit went inside to save what he could while Sera helped Blackwall back onto his feet. “Careful with that hardhead of yours! You still need it!”

At the gate, they met Cullen again, who instructed everyone to seek shelter in the Chantry. He glared at the dragon, the monster that destroyed them effortlessly.

Solas felt cold when he thought about his little group of allies. Were there no other options?

The Iron Bull stormed through the gate, followed by the Chargers. They hacked through doors and windows of the huts to get trapped people out. The dragon's strange breath flew like meteors above their heads, smashing stone walls as if they were made of cards.

Was that really fire?

There were cries for help coming out of the burning tavern. Its roof looked like it was about to collapse.

“That's Flissa!”, Varric shouted.

The same moment, the woodwork gave in.

While Varric shouted, Ellana shot her arms up and vines burst through the ground. They held the roof open, just about.

Suddenly, the air began to thicken around them, then let go and the party rushed to the tavern with double the speed. Solas turned to Dorian, who had obviously cast haste on them. He looked exhausted.

How long would he hold on?

They pulled the bartender out before the roof came down and buried the tavern for good.

The smell of burned flesh hung in the air as they made their way further up.

At the apothecary, Adan and Minaeve were cornered by the flames. Solas managed to freeze the fires before they could reach the explosive potions in front of the building.

At the Chantry, another group of templars attacked villagers, trying Cassandra's patience. Her smite knocked one of them right into Blackwall's sword.

Solas saw Bull and the Chargers hastening inside, carrying injured villagers.

How many were lost?

This was a disaster.

One that could've been prevented if only he had known...

Finally in the Chantry, the spirits weren't high there, either.

They saw Chancellor Roderick collapse into the arms of – Cole. There he was again.

“He tried to stop a templar. The blade went deep. He's going to die”, he explained without euphemizing.

“What a...charming boy”, Roderick panted, struggling to stand.

Then Cullen came running towards them. “Herald! Our position is not good! That dragon stole back any time you might have earned us!”

“I've seen an archdemon...”, Cole was unbothered by the Commander's haste. “I was in the fade, but it looked like that.”

“I don't care what it looks like!”, Cullen snapped at him. “It has cut a path for that army! They'll kill everyone in Haven!”

“The Elder One doesn't care about the village. He only wants the Herald.”

Everyone looked back at Ellana, who tried to make sense out of that.

“What does it want from me?”, she asked, even though she could guess the answer.

“You have the anchor”, Cole answered.

“The...” She looked at her hand, guessing right.

Cullen was still thinking practically. “Herald, there a no tactics to make this survivable. The only thing that slowed them was the avalanche. We could turn the remaining trebuchets, cause one last slide.”

Ellana's expression hardened. “We would kill every single person in here.”

“We're dying, but we can decide how”, Cullen admitted, glaring wildly. “Many don't get that choice.”

Silence ensued.

Solas began to search for a way out … for his people.

He needed to get past Corypheus. Hide while the others fought, no matter how he felt about it.

But if the Herald died here...and the magister got the anchor...That wasn't an option either.

And the orb? He only needed to get his hands on it.

But he couldn't get close enough. Corypheus' power was way beyond his own. His only chance would be another miracle...

Cole interrupted his thoughts. “Yes, that”, he sighed as if he found the solution. “Chancellor Roderick can help. He wants to say it before he dies.”

Now everyone's attention belonged to the Chancellor.

“There is a path....”, the cleric rasped between breaths. “You wouldn't know it unless you'd made the summer pilgrimage...As I have.”

He struggled to stand up and faced Ellana.

“The people can escape. She must've shown me. Andraste must have shown me, so I could...tell you..” His look became pleading. “It was whim that I walked the path, I did not mean to start – it was overgrown. Now, with so many of the Conclave dead, to be the only one who remembers...I don't know, Herald. If this simple memory can save us, this could be more than mere accident. You could be more.”

“Your information will save lives, Chancellor”, Ellana said as softly as she could. “The people of Haven will know that. We'll be forever grateful for your help. May your Maker guide you safely through the Fade...”

The Chancellor's expression smoothed and he closed his eyes. Cole carefully lay him onto a bench so he could rest.

“Cullen, let your soldiers spread the news! The people need to leave now!” , Ellana went on.

The Commander, glad about the turn of events, began to bark orders.

Meanwhile Ellana asked Cole:“What are we going to do about the archdemon?”

“It won't stray from the Elder One”, the boy assured her, not leaving Roderick's side. “He's here for you.”

“That's nice, but doesn't tell me how to kill it!” She spat and wiped her brow. “So, if we leave, that monster and the archdemon will still be out there following us.”

“We'd be sitting ducks!” Cullen came back. “If that dragon finds us traipsing in the mountains, we're done for!”

“It is possible that the Elder One can track the energy of your mark”, Solas offered, not exactly lightening up the mood. A short pause was the outcome.

“Eh, if that's really an archdemon, it's gonna be my job”, Blackwall carefully butted in.

“Yours alone?”, Dorian quipped. “Not to hide your light under a bushel, but I think that beast is too much even for your hardhead.”

“It won't fight you”, Cole added. “It wants the Herald.”

“Picky motherfucker...” the Warden growled.

“So, if the people are to have a chance...” Ellana pressed her eyes shut. “Look, this is not about me, that mark is killing me anyway and I'm here to save the world...but...If I run out there, without a plan...I will just die! I don't know what I'm facing! And then what? How's this going to work? All I can do is cause the avalanche...because the one who's causing it will die...” She realized something. “If I can distract this thing...lure it and its dragon into the village...and shoot the trebuchet then...that would maybe kill them both...”

Cullen stared at her. His expression betrayed what he thought of this plan.

“You mean, we need just another miracle by the almighty Herald of Andraste?”, Dorian said what everybody probably thought.

“Do you have a better plan?”

Cullen found his voice again. “Perhaps you will surprise it...find a way...” His face puckered. He didn't seem to find the right expression for this. Then he hardened again. “My soldiers are loading the trebuchets. If you are doing this, keep the Elder One's attention until we're above the tree line.”

“Understood”, she said without hesitation. To her party, she said: “It was a pleasure knowing you all.”

“Wait...”, Varric woke up. “Shiny, you're not thinking of doing this alone, do you?”

“All I need to do is to fire the trebuchet! I will not sacrifice you just so you can hold my hand!”

“There are still templars out there and nobody's defending the gates right now!”

“Varric is right”, Cassandra said. “If you want to have a chance to reach the fence, you need protection.”

“Alright, but everybody who wants to leave, can leave.”

“Bullshit! Nobody wants to leave, stupid!”

“Sera...”

“I got fifty arrows to shove right up that Elderberry's arse!”

“No! You are the youngest of us! You will leave with the others!”

“What? I'm not your bloody “dallying”, Her Ladybits! You're gonna need arrows!”

“I think bolts will do just as well”, Varric said patting Bianca.

“You piss off! Who said you're gonna go?”

“Sera...”, Blackwall began, his voice a soft buzz. She stared at him, eyes widening in shock. “Come on, get out of here. You got noble arses to kick with your Jennies.”

“And you're gonna stay here or what?!” She was on the edge of tears.

“You heard me, this is an archdemon! This is what I wanted my entire life! It's either this or kicking the bucket somewhere in the ass-end of the Deep Roads and I hate those bloody Deep Roads!”

“I knew it! Grey Wardens are stupid!”, she sobbed. “You're a stupid pissballs hero and I hate you!”

She dashed into his arms and everybody averted their eyes to give their last goodbye some privacy.

Quieter, Ellana said to the Lady Seeker: “Cassandra, you're leaving as well.” Before the warrior could protest, she added: “This is not about your skills. You're the leader of the Inquisition. You stay with them.”

She looked surprised. “I am not the leader, only the founder.”

“But you are who these people look up to! Who they would seek for comfort! They need you now! Leliana is too scary to shine light into anyone's heart. And Cullen...he's a bit of a brute, even if a pretty one...”

Cullen blushed deeply at this, the pink colour reached even his ears.

Cassandra couldn't suppress a smirk. “I think I am kind of a brute as well.”

“But you have faith in your Maker! You awaken that faith in others, no matter if they believe in the Maker or not. The Inquisition might pray to me as if I was an idol, but they only believe in me because you do. You are the closest to what a Dalish Keeper should be and if you learned to soften your heart a little, people would actually dare to approach you.”

Cassandra opened her mouth, but apparently didn't know what to say. She reddened a bit, too.

“So, go with your people. You have wounds to heal, chaos to sort...And demons to fight.”

Ellana looked at Solas. “That's why you will leave with them.”

Solas stared at her. He had expected to come with her without discussion.

“You need my protection, Herald...Ellana...!”, he stuttered.

She shook her head. “The rest of the world needs you more. There are still rifts everywhere. Cassandra showed me the report a few hours ago. They didn't close along with the Breach as we hoped.”

“But I...”

“You are the only one who can hope to find a way to close them without me!���

“I have never closed a rift before...!”

“I know! And I have never fought an archdemon or any other of these monsters we faced today! And it still has to work out somehow! Pray to the creators! You're not Dalish, but they won't turn a blind eye to any elf who's asking for their help! I know I will pray for you! Either way, sacrificing you here would be nonsense!”

Solas found himself out of words, just like Cassandra. And unfortunately, she even had a point...Trying to get the orb and to escape the avalanche at the same time would be ridiculous. How convenient instead, to come back later and take it from the hands of his trapped enemy. While walking on the corpses of his dead friends.

He wanted to throw up.

Done with him, the Herald faced Dorian. “You'll have hell of a story to tell back in Tevinter.” Her smile was more tense than needed, but she tried.

Dorian looked confused. “Does that mean you dismiss me too?”

“I can't ask you to stay.”

“Look at your party! It's only you, Blackwall and Varric against the nightmares out there! The others are leaving for good reasons, but I have no excuse! Besides, how would that look? The Tevinter saving his own ass and leaving the Herald to die?”

No.

Solas couldn't believe what he heard.

Where was that useless Knight Enchanter?

He looked around, but Madame de Fer had successfully squirmed herself out of battle.

“You would sacrifice yourself to avoid gossip?“ he heard Ellana ask Pavus as his blood began to boil.

“Avoiding gossip is my speciality, except for the good sort. Also, that Elder One is the leader of the Venatori, yes? My fellow countrymen! Perhaps we can have a nice chat and sort the matter out.” His voice was higher than usual and his nonchalance not quite so smooth. But he didn't falter. Solas couldn't keep his eyes off him.

She snorted, a sort of confused amusement. Then they heard a terrible shriek from outside, followed by an explosion. The dragon continued its work.

“Creators, we have to go!” Ellana shot a look outside. “Dorian, if you save yourself, I won't hold it against you!”

“But I pretty much would”, Pavus decided. To the survivors, he said: “Perhaps one of you can learn to write decently, so you can turn this into a legend.”

“The tale of Her Ladybits, Ser Fancypants, Itchy Words and Pissballs Hero hunting Elderberries...”, Sera tried and everyone broke out in roaring laughter.

And tears.

Solas shook Blackwall's hand stiffly, as if someone else moved his limbs. The man's handshake was almost crushing his fingers.

Varric slapped his shoulder. “Pour one for me, Chuckles.”, his deep voice rasped into his ear.

The durgen'len of the new world. The strangest one he ever new. And he'd lose him now.

Solas' own voice was hoarse when he said: “Farewell, Master Tethras.”

He almost had no words for Ellana. All he could manage was a whisper: “You shouldn't have to do this...”

“Aw, come here...”, she muttered and then – crushed him between her arms. Solas was perplexed, returning the hug just as mechanically as he had shaken Blackwall's hand.

Then he stared into Pavus' warm grey eyes for too long. His lips parted, but no words escaped them. Their awkward silence was unnoticed by the others who said their farewells.

When another shriek rang out from outside, everyone turned their attention back to the exit. It was time to leave.

Stuttering a few words, their meaning lost to Solas, Pavus went along with the others.

Solas wanted to shout after him. Stop him. Or say goodbye.

Anything.

He was still staring when the hallway was empty.

“Solas?”, Cassandra called.

Ordered.

Her voice echoed in the abandoned hall.

He felt empty himself when he turned his head.

But he complied.

[saltandfire-blog]

Lucerys Velaryon x Aemond Targaryen

When you fall in love, you will carve out your heart and throw it into the deepest ocean. You will be all in - blood and salt.

Salt and Fire

Summary: Lucerys Velaryon belongs to both sea and sky. His whole life he has tried to prove his blood runs thick with not just fire but salt, despite the scandalous accusations that have haunted him and his brothers. Aemond Targaryen is nothing but fire, and before their families tore them asunder, his nephew was one of the few people he did not scorch. History books would have you believe the green and black children of House Targaryen grew up enemies, but before eyes and loyalties were slashed, there was once devotion between the two second sons. As boys grow into men, it is easier to repay an injury, because forgiveness is a burden and revenge a pleasure.

Notes: I hope you’ll forgive me for any translation errors, I did my best with different resources, but I am obviously not a genius like G.R.R. so I hope it won’t be picked apart too harshly. I have to say this was my favorite chapter to write so far. It’s finally happened folks, we’ve gotten to brushing against the canon version of HOTD. Thank you for being patient with me! I really did wrestle a lot with how close to the canon I was going to write this, and I hope you all enjoy the version I made. With the relationship I’ve built between Aemond and Luke, I did not see him being the one to hold the rope, but I did always intend for him to be apart of it. Sorry guys! Please keep in mind, I am still writing from the POV's of children. Sometimes they blow me away with how mean they can be to each other. I remember my fair share of it growing up and now I'm going through it with my own kids. I don't understand it, but I did my best to portray that here. Not everyone is in black and white and I've always tried to portray that through every character I write.

This chapter was definitely dedicated to the daddies 😊

I personally loved both Harwin and Laenor in HOTD, so I couldn't miss the opportunity to dive into the complexity of both their relationships with the boys. And despite Laenor’s overindulging, I felt Rhaenyra and his relationship should also get its own recognition. They must have had to be friends to keep each other's secrets and raise the boys together and I always thought was special.

The advice Ser Harwin gives Luke is actually inspired by a lot of men I truly admire and their responses when asked what advise they would give younger men. It surprised me how similar most of their answers were and I thought it would add a nice touch trying to soften Luke towards Harwin who wants so badly to be his dad.

I would also like to mention, the little insert I used about Aemond gesturing a lot with his hands, was actually inspired by watching Ewan Mitchell speak with people in real life at the UK premier of the series. It’s adorable. Excuse my obsessive fangirlness.

This chapter title is from My Blood by Ellie Goulding but also inspired a lot from the song Sinking In by Katelyn Tarver. I was really torn between which song to use for the chapter title.

Thank you so much again for all your comments, kudos, bookmarks & subscribes! Even the tiniest comment makes my world go round❤️

Chapter Nine

with all the blood i lost with you it drowns the love i thought i knew.

[foundtherightwords]

Drive

Pairing: Eddie x Chrissy

Summary: What happened between Eddie and Chrissy during the ride to his trailer, or why Chrissy "left that van smiling", in the words of Grace Van Dien. Inspired by this lovely art, and also a bit by the song "Drive" by The Cars (hence the title).

Warnings: a bit of angst (I didn't set out to make it angsty, but my hands just slipped), brief mentions of drug use, idiots in love

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: I did it! I wrote a one-shot! My brain kept whining the whole time "Where is the plooooooot", but I did it! Big thanks to @harritudur for the inspiration!

"Shit," Eddie mumbled under his breath as he opened the door of the van and a whiff of stale odor assaulted his nostrils. The ashtray was full to overflowing, old clothes and discarded sketches and outlines for his old campaigns were scattered around and under the seats. Eddie never cared much about the garbage piling up in his van, usually just pushing it to a convenient spot if it was in his way, but not tonight. Not the night when he was going to drive Chrissy Cunningham back to his trailer.

He grabbed a plastic bag and started throwing things into it willy-nilly, while keeping an eye on the school entrance for Chrissy. There were still a few stragglers in the parking lot, and she was probably waiting until it was completely empty.

Chrissy Cunningham. It still didn't feel quite real that she had not only approached him, but also agreed to come home with him. Eddie tried to stamp down the excitement that had been coursing through him since that afternoon, since she'd asked him to meet her in the parking lot after the game. Don't be stupid. It's just a drug deal. Nothing more. But even as he told himself this, his heart couldn't help beating faster when he remembered the way she had smiled at him, the way she had lifted her eyes to him before looking away again.

However, as the parking lot emptied and there was no sign of a strawberry blonde cheerleader making her way toward him, his anticipation waned, to be replaced by disappointment. What if she didn't show? What if she decided that this whole thing was a Big Mistake and wanted nothing more to do with him?

He dropped the plastic bag back on the floor of the van, not caring that the garbage was spilling out again. He tried to tell himself that this hollow feeling in his stomach was due to the loss of a potential customer, but he knew it wasn't true. Perhaps it was just as well. What the hell was he thinking anyway? Just because she'd laughed at his lame jokes and remembered his lame band from six years ago and now he was entertaining the idea of—No. Obviously, she was just being nice to him because he had something she wanted. He had to remember not to mix business with pleasure next time. Not that there had been any pleasure this time. Not really.

A tap on his shoulder made him jump.

He whirled around and there she was, in her green skirt and white hoodie with "Chrissy" embroidered on the front. "Sorry," she said chest, with a little smile that still lit up her face. "Didn't mean to scare you."

Did she do that on purpose, echoing the exact same words he'd said to her when they met in the woods that afternoon, or was that just a coincidence?

"It's OK," Eddie said, hoping the butterflies in his stomach weren't actually visible.

"Sorry I took so long. I had to wait until the squad's all gone home."

"What did you tell them?"

"That I was waiting for Jason."

Eddie wanted to ask what she told Jason, but the mention of that prick left a sour taste in his mouth, so he said nothing.

Chrissy, probably mistaking his silence for nervousness, continued, a little breathlessly, "I told Jason I was going home, and my parents think I'm with him. So don't worry. We'll have plenty of time."

That wasn't what he was thinking about, but he appreciated her effort to reassure him.

"Sure you want to do this?" he asked, and immediately wished he hadn't, for the sparkle in Chrissy's eyes abruptly dimmed, like stars getting hidden by clouds.

"... Of course," she said, but didn't sound too confident. "It'll be fun."

He wanted to kick himself. Whatever her reason for wanting to try the Special K, it wasn't any of his business. Reminding her of it clearly only stressed her out.

"Then your chariot awaits, my lady," he said, stepping aside and extending a hand toward the open door. At the last moment, his eyes caught a single limp fry wedged in the back of the passenger's seat, a remnant of Corroded Coffin's late-night snack after their weekly Hideout gig. He plucked it out and rammed it into his pocket just in time.

Chrissy didn't seem to notice. She gave him another smile and got in. Eddie followed, hoping that he'd gotten rid of the worst of the smell, and that she wouldn't see the garbage bag shoved in a corner in the back like a dead body.

He saw her struggling to close the door on her side. "It's a piece of shit, sorry—no, you have to twist the handle that way—" he said, but she couldn't quite get it. Without thinking, he reached over and shut it for her.

"Thanks," she said softly. Eddie felt her breath on his cheek and realized, belatedly, that their faces were mere inches apart. He shuffled back into his seat, lowering his head over the wheel, so his hair would hide the blush creeping over his skin.

He started the van. The cassette player roared to life, belting out Master of Puppets, which he'd been practicing in the past few weeks. "Sorry," he said, fumbling for the stop button, but Chrissy put a hand on his arm.

"No, leave it," she said. "I don't mind. It stops me thinking."

He glanced at her, concerned, but she must've realized she'd said too much and drew her hand back, before turning to look out the window. Her fingers were icy cold as they brushed against his wrist, and he felt a sudden urge to reach out and hold them, to rub some warmth and life back into them. But he only reached for the volume knob and turned it down to a reasonable level.

"So, uh, good game?" he asked, as the van rattled down the dark road.

"I thought you didn't care about games where you toss balls into laundry baskets," Chrissy said.

Fuck. So she'd heard his soapbox speech. Well, of course she'd heard, the whole cafeteria had heard, that was the point, but he didn't think she would remember. He glanced at her. She was grinning at him, her slightly crooked front teeth making the smile all the more mischievous. Adorably so. He had to make an effort to tear his eyes away from her and turn his attention back to the road. Stay focused.

"I don't," he said. "I only asked because—" Because of you, he wanted to say, but what came out instead was, "Because Sinclair decided it was more important than Hellfire and I want to know if the twerp regretted it."

"Tell me about Hellfire then," she said, sitting up.

"Nah, you'll probably find it boring."

"I won't. Please. What do you guys do?"

And so Eddie launched into an enthusiastic explanation of D&D, perhaps a bit too enthusiastic, but he noticed that Chrissy never once looked bored. If anything, her eyes were fixed on him with delight. No. Be careful. Don't mix business and pleasure.

"And Sinclair gave that up for basketball, can you believe it?" he concluded.

"Well, he did score the winning point," Chrissy said, still smiling.

Huh. Good for the kid. Eddie tried to scowl, but Chrissy's knowing smile was making it difficult. She could see right through him, yet there was no mockery or smugness in that smile. It was just... teasing.

"You're happy for him, I can tell," she said, confirming his thought. "Why do you have to hide it?"

Eddie shrugged. "Have to maintain my mean and scary reputation, I suppose," he grumbled.

"But you're not."

"Hey, no need to flatter me, you already got the 25% discount," Eddie said, half-joking. "Do you want me to give you the Special K for free or what?"

Chrissy's face fell. "Oh, no. No, I'm sorry. I didn't—"

Shit. Why did he have to bring up the deal again? Why couldn't he pretend they were just... hanging out... as... friends? She said it would be fun. He wanted to make it fun for her, but it seemed he was incapable of keeping his foot out of his mouth.

Chrissy fumbled in her pocket and pulled out several bills. "Actually, you don't even have to give me the discount," she said, holding out the money. "You're already going out of your way to help me. I'm paying you the full amount."

At the sight of the money, Eddie's pretended irritation turned real, but he didn't know if it was with Chrissy or with himself. He had no reason to be mad at Chrissy. She was always going to pay him. This was a drug deal, after all. She hadn't given him any indication otherwise. If he thought it was going to lead to something else, then it was his own damn fault for being such a fool. Yet he couldn't help stop that feeling of disappointment, of disillusion, from weighing him down.

Suddenly he saw how stupid the whole thing was. He was taking a girl—and not just any girl, the Queen of Hawkins High herself—back to his trailer to give her drug, a drug she'd never used before, a drug he himself had only dabbled in. What if something happened?

"I don't think we should do this," he said, pushing away her hand with the money in it.

"What?" Chrissy stared at him. "What's wrong? What did I do?"

"Nothing! It's just—"

How could he explain? It wasn't just the fear of something going wrong. It was more because he was afraid that if he sold her the drug, then that would be it. She would take the drug, he would take the money, and the next time they walked past each other in the hall at school, it would be as strangers again. He wasn't sure if he could handle that. It would hurt too much.

"Please, you're the only one that can help me. You're the only one that knows," Chrissy said. "Please, Eddie." That was the first time she called him by name, and fuck if it didn't feel good to hear. But he steeled his resolve and shook his head.

"I just—I can't, OK? Sorry. Let me drive you home."

She turned to the window, her eyes brimming. Cursing himself, Eddie reached for the gear stick to put the van in reverse. As he did so, his finger grazed her knee, just barely. But it felt electric, sending a thrill through his arm that lasted much longer than it should have. He withdrew his hand and peeked at Chrissy through the fringe of his hair. She was still looking out the window, chewing her lip. With a sigh, he grabbed the gear stick again.

Just then, he felt a slight pressure on the side of his hand.

He looked down.

Chrissy had moved her leg a smidge, pressing it against his hand.

He looked up. She wasn't really looking at him, but she wasn't not looking at him either. Her eyes were turned away from him with a bit too much determination.

Eddie thought about reaching for her hands, by way of apologizing, of convincing her that she had done nothing wrong, that he was doing this for her own good, but Chrissy was keeping them folded in her lap, away from him. He realized they were both holding their breath, their bodies poised over some unknown precipice, waiting for the other to do something, to take that first step.

Slowly, he extended his pinky until it touched her leg.

He exhaled, and felt, rather than heard, Chrissy do the same, almost imperceptibly.

Then Chrissy nudged her leg a little closer. Eddie felt her smooth skin under his calloused fingertips, cool against the burning heat of his palm. She was trembling slightly, and he felt a pulse form inside him, matching hers. He pressed down a little more tightly, squeezing her knee in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

To answer it, she lifted her knee, and his hand slid further down her thigh.

Time stretched around them, elastic, breathless. Metallica continued to blare in the background, but Eddie no longer heard it. He held on to Chrissy and looked into her eyes, and found his gaze returned. In those blue, blue eyes, he saw the answer to all his questions, all his doubts. This wasn't just a drug deal for her. This could be something else. This would be something else, if he was brave enough to reach out and take it...

CRASH!!!

They both jumped, and Eddie's hands flew back to grip the steering wheel. The van, left to its own device, had just swiped a garbage can. Eddie realized, with both dejection and relief, that they were already at the turnoff to Forest Hills Trailer Park. He looked back at Chrissy and saw his fluster reflected on her face. The moment was gone.

"Almost there," he said, clearing his throat as he pulled the van roaring into the park.

"Oh" was all she said.

"You, uh, still want to do this?"

"Yes," she said. There was no hesitation this time.

The van rolled to a stop. Chrissy opened the door without waiting for him, but Eddie wasn't disappointed. In her firm answer, he had seen some glow, some warmth lingering between them, an ember rather than a fire now, but it would flame to life again, given the chance.

"This is... uh, my castle," he announced, sweeping his arms toward the rickety trailer. That earned him a smile, and he felt that glow again as he remembered the way her leg had trembled under his hand, and the answering pulse from deep inside him. The night was not over. And later, perhaps, she would let him drive her home.

And they had a lovely time in Eddie's trailer and later he did drive her home and nothing bad ever happened to them 🥲

[newt-and-salamander]

Okay, time to go and overshare online because that's a very healthy coping mechanism and also impeccable internet safety.

Soooo, I had this job as a student assistant for 2.5 years. I worked for a professor (lets call him Mr. J.) and we got along quite well and I am very sure I carried out my tasks very efficiently and well. He repeatedly told me so.

Last year in January I received an offer as a student assistant for a different project (with Mrs. S), and also a different Professor (Mrs. Y) asked me if I would be interested to be her PhD student after I finished my degree. I was overjoyed because I was extremely interested in Mrs. Y's work and had meant to ask her myself but couldn't muster the courage. As Mrs. S worked in the same field, it was clear I would take her job as well.

So I talked to Mr. J and told him I would take a second job and I would need to lower my work load with him from 40 h/month to 30. He was ... not happy. I remember him literally saying "If Y wants to throw her hat into the ring, who am I to stop her", and in what I considered to be honest career advice, he told me not to go into her field as it was not very promising for a university career atm.

Fast-forward to June: It became clear to me that I wouldn't be able to work 60 h/month while writing my Master thesis starting in September, so I went to Mr J. and told him I would need to quit in autumn. It made sense, because the project I worked on with S was very much adjacent to the topic I chose for my thesis. Again, J was not overjoyed to hear this and told me it was "hard to find good people", but I took that as a compliment.

I finished all my tasks in time and I spent several hours in September showing my successor how to take over from me.

I then wrote a long email to J, thanking him for the 2.5 years we had worked together and everything he had taught me - because it was true, he had been a good boss and I had learned a lot and I knew he had made sure to give me interesting tasks. He had even sent me to a work trip to Paris to do some research in some archives there. I appreciated that a lot and I told him (and I had told him before), and wroteI regretted that I had to leave the job, but that I had had a great time. I also asked him if he could write me a employer's reference as it was pretty much my first proper job.

I didn't expect a bouquet of flowers or anything, but I thought he might write back with something like "thanks for your work, good luck with your thesis". All I got back then was a one liner saying he would write the reference.

I already had the feeling back then that he was sulking, but I brushed the thought away as him being very busy. I met him once on the corridor since then, where he very obviously had no time for me. And today I got the employer's reference, 3 months after I had asked him to write one.

It was a generic text about the university, then a list of my tasks which I provided and then 2 paragraphs, of which the first one said also the very generic things about my work behaviour, including 2 typos, and the whole second paragraph was dedicated to how I quit the job because I got another attractive offer and how he regrettet to let me go.

And ... I get it. These things are always very gerenic and maybe I'm reading too much into it. But tbh reading this, I feel very bad, because I think the only effort he put into it was to make sure I knew he was not happy about me leaving, and also this sounds like I left on a whim, while I told him 4 months prior. I am also very disappointed because he never once said thank you or good bye to me, and - as a person who is generally not very sure of herself - I think this letter understates my actual performance. All the time I thought I was overinterpreting his behaviour, but now I think it's safe to say that he's offended. And I don't understand why. I was only his student assistant. I think I did my job very reliably, but at the end of the day it still was scanning books for his seminars and going to archives to take photos of documents for him. I did not betray him in any personal way. I don't see why he would react in such a way. (And I can't stop thinking about the "throwing the hat into the ring" comment. If he felt I should in any way be more loyal (???) to him and IF he had maybe thought of offering me a PhD position, he could have done it then and there. I can't read his thoughts. I am suffering from impostor syndrom anyway, I don't think anyone would willingly want to take me on for a doctorate.)

Anyway, I'm confused and hurt and I wrote him an email asking very nicely to correct the typos. Let's see if that takes him 3 more months.

[desos-records]

Chapter 2: The King of Infinite Space

First | Prev / Next

Ghost possession doesn't happen often, but fatality rates are high. Even if an agent does survive, there are the aftereffects to worry about.

After surviving a possession, Lucy Carlyle struggles with recovery, delving ever deeper into the memories of Visitors and, in the process, stumbling into the world of blackmarket Sources.

Meanwhile, George Karim races to learn the truth behind ghost possession in order to protect Lucy and save future agents.

And Anthony Lockwood must face his own past with the London underworld if he wants to save his friends and himself.

-

Get rid of her, Mr. Lockwood

Lockwood stared at his reflection in the old, spotted silver mirror—a Victorian-era ghost trap that his father had bought in an estate sale—tying his tie and trying to force his fear out of sight. Back in his suit, he felt a little more secure, but he could see that his expression still looked panicked and trapped. His hands still fidgeted, searching for his sword.

Inspector Barnes had called, ending his conversation with George, and demanded that Lockwood fire Lucy for not having her Grade Four certification or else he would shut down the agency.

But Lockwood wasn't going to get rid of her and certainly not because Barnes wanted to throw his weight around. Had it been ill-advised to bring her on without a Grade Four? Perhaps. But Barnes hadn't seen what she could do, what an exceptional Talent she had. He hadn't seen her haunted look when she said her last employment ended abruptly.

Lockwood had looked up her DEPRAC files after their first couple cases together, curious about why any agency would fire such an obviously Talented agent. He found the Wythburn Mill Incident, the list of casualties, and the blame the agency's cowardly supervisor placed on Lucy. He'd thought about writing some sort of letter to rail at DEPRAC about the injustice, but it was Lucy's past. If she'd traveled all the way to London just to leave it behind, then he wouldn't dredge it up.

He would just have to find some other way to protect Lucy and the agency. 

"Remember to bring back breakfast!" George shouted from downstairs. "I'm not cooking again!"

Lockwood called absently over his shoulder, "Stop mother-henning!"

He adjusted his finished tie and took a breath, nodding once to himself. Gathering his sword and his bag, he stepped away from the mirror. Then, before heading downstairs, he stopped at the door to the attic and knocked. The stone face of a gorgon—originally part of a wall in a Greek temple excavated by his mother—stared down at him from above the door.

"Luce?" he called. "Lucy, can I speak with you a moment?"

He used the tone of voice George referred to as his Mr. Lockwood voice, the tone that sounded like his signature at the bottom of every mortgage payment. He used it on clients and DEPRAC agents alike and it let him pretend he was just an employer checking in on one of his agents—instead of a boy desperate to make amends for putting one of his friends in danger.

Again. He'd put her in danger again. With the inclusion of the Hope House, he'd failed to protect her from the ghost of Annabel Ward three times.

He had tried though, hadn't he? He could take responsibility for the Hope House, but he couldn't help that Lucy stole an artefact from an active haunting site. She and George had a fascination with Sources that he couldn't understand. The only reason he kept some in the basement was for posterity's sake and, should the need arise, a little insurance. He certainly didn't go around handling them, contained or otherwise.

The old stairs squeaked and groaned and Lockwood jumped in his skin. Then the door swung open and, for a moment, he could only stare. 

Sometimes, on a case, agents would be caught in an overwhelming sense of deja vu or even nostalgia—a strong, but relatively harmless side effect of proximity to psychic energy and the pull of long-dead memories. Even adults could feel it. Agents described an aching feeling in their guts or chests, longing for something they couldn't even begin to place. Good agents could use it to locate an emotionally charged Source.

When he saw Lucy the first time, he felt something similar—a nameless ache in his chest. While psychic nostalgia always cut with a cold edge of sorrow or regret, Lucy made each of his ribs glow warm like the heating elements in the toaster. 

Oh, there you are, he remembered thinking. Where have you been?

Lucy stood just beyond the doorway, hand on the knob in the same rigid way she held a rapier, like she ought to be holding a claymore instead. Her damp hair curled against her shoulders, face faintly red like she'd scrubbed it rather hard. She'd changed into clothes she typically wore on cases—big jumper, wool skirt, torn leggings, heavy boots. 

Lockwood knew armor when he saw it. He felt the same about his coat. Battered or burned, he balked at the idea of facing a case without it.

"What?" 

Lucy's voice dropped in heavy links of iron chain between them. He flashed his best smile. Lucy only crossed her arms at him.

"I'm going out for flares and filings," he said, dimming the smile down to more ordinary levels. "I'll bring back doughnuts from Arif's, if you like. Want anything?"

She bit her lip, furrows in her brow same as when she concentrated on case research. He didn't think doughnut flavors required that much thought, but it had been a long night. Then she looked up and stepped into his space. He tried very hard to keep his breath from hitching as her warmth radiated towards him, the smell of lavender soap closing in.

They'd stood together just like this hours ago. He wondered if she remembered, if she'd seen anything of the present or only the past. When Lucy touched his face, so gently it made him jolt, he could only register the callouses on her hand, put there by her rapier, and how they matched his own. He thought of how well her hand fit with his all those times the last month or so when the circumstances had called for it—maybe her yanking him out of a Visitor's reach or him jarring her from the pull of malaise or helping each other stand up after getting knocked into the mud by a Poltergeist with a fondness for lawn gnomes.

Then her thumb traced his cheekbone and she looked at him with such a dizzying mix of love and fear that he forgot to breathe.

you love me, don't you?

He saw the doubt flicker over Lucy's face as she said it. His chest ached like he'd cracked a rib even as he realized that Annabel Ward doubted the man in front of her, Lucy didn't doubt him. Lucy wasn't afraid of him.

you're hurting me

Lucy dug her fingers into his arms, somehow pulling him closer even as she tried to move away. He watched as her face contorted in pain, pale with betrayal.

His heart thudded heavy to the pattern of I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry

How could he tell her that he would never try to hurt her? That he never wanted to give her a reason to be afraid of him? That Lucy Carlyle should never have to doubt that someone loved her, especially not him.

Well, he could think of a thousand reasons why he couldn't tell her that. She'd met him a little over a month ago; he was her employer and landlord and fellow agent. It was too soon, much too soon for things like that.

Besides, what kind of future could he give Lucy Carlyle that she would want? She was more alive than anyone he'd ever met, with light in her eyes like the stars that forced their way through the bluish-black London sky. He was halfway dead, a ticking time bomb even on a good day, and in charge of a tiny agency that wouldn't do her any good if he couldn't make them legends before he kicked it.

"Lockwood?"

He blinked back to the present and smiled on reflex. "What is it, Luce?"

Her eyes pinned him in place. Fear froze his lungs as he wondered if she could see straight through his grin and his business casual expression and his voice laid down in private school cursive.

"Did I hurt you?" she asked softly.

"Me?"

She frowned again, lips a steady downward curve. "When I—when she… Annabel. When that man strangled her, she scratched his arms up really badly. It's probably why he bricked her in that chimney, she would've had his blood under her nails. Did I…"

Her hand drifted towards his forearm, but hesitated.

"No. No, I'm fine, Luce. See?" He rolled up his shirt sleeve to show her his unbroken skin. "No harm done," he said.

That had more to do with the fact Lucy kept her nails short and Lockwood had been wearing his hoodie than any intent on her part. He felt certain she would've drawn blood otherwise, but he wouldn't tell her that.

She nodded and pulled away, hands fidgeting with each other in a nervous way he'd never seen with Lucy, her eyes distant.

"You couldn't have known she would take you over like that," Lockwood offered gently. "And you did incredibly well under the circumstances."

Her expression turned fierce, somehow shifting her round face into sharp planes and angles. She always looked like that right before she pulled her rapier on a Visitor or lit a magnesium flare or got into a row with someone. Now, she looked like his Lucy. He realized with a sudden spark of fear that she hadn't looked like herself since falling from the Hope House.

"I only broke her hold because the sun was rising," she said. "And because you were there. You and George. On a job, I would've gotten us all killed."

"No. We would've figured something out, Luce. We always do."

"You don't know that."

"I know you."

Her face rounded out again, along with her eyes, and her cheeks turned rather pinker. And as much as he wanted to spend a minute or two studying that expression of hers and how it lit up his heart like a glowstick, the growing silence clawed at him so he carried on.

"I only mean that I've seen you in the field and you're as capable as any other agent I've worked with. More so. And there's more than a few times you've saved our sorry necks, George and I, as you know. You make invaluable contributions to every case, Lucy."

"Right." She deflated, glancing away from him and looking a bit cornered. "Thanks, Lockwood."

He said something wrong. He could see it in her face, a house closing its doors and window shutters. Her hands clenched into fists at her side.

"It wasn't your fault, Luce," he tried again. "The possession, I mean. There's no SOP for that kind of thing beyond containing the Source."

The shadows in her face darkened ever further, but she spoke lightly. "I think George is writing one."

He smiled like he could expel the darkness that way. "George is going to rewrite the whole rulebook one day and I'm going to have him put Don't let Lucy Carlyle handle Sources right at the start."

Lucy glared, but the shadows faded and the corner of her mouth—so often turned down—quirked up. "If you bring me back a chocolate custard, I'll forget you said that."

Lockwood's smile turned into a grin, his ribs warm and glowing inside him. "Chocolate custard it is then."

[oro-e-diamanti]

The one where Ethan gets caught

Description | You're learning a lesson about why you should always knock on doors... or on why you shouldn't.

Content | Smut

Pairing | Ethan x fem!Reader

Word Count | 1176

Taglist | @ginny-lily @ethaneskin @tabi-toast @mywritingonlyfans @manesimp-archive @ohtorchio @daddydamiano @damianodavide @kanevill @messyhairday-me @cheese-toastie-11 @bidet-and-legolas @maybanksslut @katyldamusic @slytherinsizequeen @bluscryn @fuckim-so-gay @marlenasupreme

***

Not knocking had gotten you in a number of awkward situations over the course of your life. You had busted in on people taking showers, friends making out with their one-night stands, acquaintances changing clothes. You had seen things that hadn't been meant for your eyes and heard things that hadn't been meant for your ears. Yet, you never seemed to learn. And none of the situations you had gotten yourself into compared with the one you were facing when you busted into Ethan's bedroom.

The scene in front of you played out in slow motion. Your ears picked up on it before your eyes did. On the obscene noises, the groans and the moans, coming from the laptop on Ethan's bed. It's where your gaze went first, drawn in by the sound. The next thing you saw was Ethan's legs, naked, and then steering higher and higher until your eyes landed on his cock, hard, partially hidden by the hand around it. You lingered longer than you intended before your gaze hastily snapped up towards his face, which was painted in a slightly pink colour. His jaw was slacked, you couldn't tell whether in embarrassment or arousal, but his widened eyes were a clear sign of how much you had surprised him.

Not a single word escaped either of your mouths. Your face was on fire, and so was another part of you. Without a second thought, you retreated back outside, closing the door behind you with a bang and leaning against it. What the hell had just happened?

You tried to shake it off, planning to simply leave and go back to the living room, pretending that nothing had ever happened. You wouldn't talk to him about it or make it awkward in any way. Yet your mind kept replaying the scene you had just witnessed. The way Ethan was spread out on his bed. The way he was gripping his cock. His face and the turned-on look in his eyes, even through the shock. His toned chest, muscles clenched. You couldn't stop thinking about seeing him in motion, how he would stroke himself, whether he would throw his head back in euphoria, the sounds that would escape him.

Your body didn't wait for your head to follow before it made a decision. In an instant, you had turned the doorknob and busted back into Ethan's room. The sound had been turned off but apart from that, he hadn't moved an inch, possibly still horrified at being caught. But you caught his eye easily.

"I want to watch."

With newfound confidence, you wandered over to the armchair in the corner of his room, never once breaking eye contact. You sat down slowly and purposely, highly aware that you had the perfect view of him from your position.

"If you let me."

Ethan didn't speak a word. Instead, he kept staring at you intently as you got comfortable in your seat, and started moving his hand. The laptop was pushed to the side and long forgotten. He had a head-start on you, already hard as hell and probably getting close to his breaking point, but as you watched, your arousal was quickly catching up. You didn't notice at first how you had slid down deeper, parted your legs, and started drawing little circles on the inside of your thigh. He, however, noticed, his eyes moving away from your face. You pushed the material of your skirt up, allowing him a better look as your panties began to dampen.

His lips emitted a low growl while your fingers travelled further, now timidly touching yourself over the fabric. You could see his eyes darkening, obviously enamoured by what he was seeing, and his whole body began to move restlessly. Time and time again he swept over his own tip, gathering precum and lathering the rest of his cock with it. It was hypnotising to watch. His head was leaned, actually more like pressed against the wall, his hair tangling and all over the place. He was gorgeous and you hoped he was thinking the same of you.

With a teasing smile on your lips, your fingers wandered under the material of your panties, letting out a gasp as you touched your bare pussy for the first time. The way he kept staring at you made you want to be loud, be uninhibited, give him as much of a show as he was giving you. You could see him going faster now, his hips moving against his movements to provide even more friction. Your panties were quickly pushed to the side, slowly letting a finger enter you as he watched in awe. Pulling it back out, you delighted yourself in showing him just how much of your wetness you had gathered, then licking along the length of it, taking it in your mouth, and swallowing. Ethan did not manage to stay quiet, even his breathing so harsh now that you could continuously hear him.

Your fingers were back on your pussy now, shoving two into it in a desperate attempt to come before Ethan would, desperately wanting him to come undone from watching you lost in your orgasm. You moved more quickly now, trying to keep with the rhythm Ethan was going at. Your back arched off the armchair, the feeling too much as you watched him jack off, your other hand looking for something to hold onto, the back of the armchair, your own breasts over your shirt, then down to your clit.

It was only a matter of time. Both of you were obviously getting more desperate. Ethan's eyes were solely focused on the action between your legs and it gave you the last push, knowing he was getting off on you just as you were getting off on him. A few more touches to your clit, your fingers shoved in up to your knuckles, and the ecstasy and euphoria washed over you, leaving you shaking and moaning in chants, clenching, gasping, coming.

Ethan didn't take long to follow. As you looked back at him, eyes still clouded and fingers still in your panties, you could see it in his face. You kept the eye contact, daring him to get there, to let go, and he did. In a few more strokes, he came all over his naked stomach, the most devilish sounds leaving his mouth, eyes closing. He was a sight and you knew you'd see this exact image in your head the next time you were alone in your room with just you and your hand.

You finally pulled your fingers out of your underwear, getting up from your position and walking over to Ethan, who was in post-orgasmic bliss and offered them to him. He eagerly took them, licking them clean in one last effort, as his breathing regulated.

"We should do this more often," you simply stated, smirking at him. He couldn't do anything more but nod, and watch, as you left his room, planning to return at the next given chance.

[lonelyasawhisper]

Records

Creem, 1st March 1977

Queen - A Day At The Races by Billy Altman

(Elektra)

When Queen was first kicking around the airwaves, one was tempted to giggle at, and possibly even enjoy, their heavy metal meets the National Barbershop Quartet Society sound. "Liar" was lots of fun, especially if you were a devout Catholic and it generally appeared that Queen was well on its way to grabbing Jethro Tull's guilt ridden crown of thorns which lan Anderson had blown by showing his true colors once too often via Passion Play and Queen didn't appear to be too serious about all this stuff either. Of course, A Night At The Opera screwed up that notion completely. A good friend of mine who sees AM radio's biggest value as motivator through pain—not so much that you want to drive with the radio on as wanting to get where you're going quicker so that you no longer have to have it on—just loves to throw "Bohemian Rhapsody" on the jukebox at bars because it used to help us all drink quicker so that we wouldn't care if it was on or not. With that album though Queen ceased to be a joke, trading reservations in the pew for a box at the Met. Uh, uh—that's where I get off fella—the Mothers of Invention's "Brown Shoes Don't Make It" was more than enough for me.

So here's A Day At The Races (what's next? Monkey Business, Room Service or Love Happy?) and there's a terminal cuteness about this album that is, to be brutally frank, as sickening as Chastity Bono. La-dee-dah, "I'm A Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy," "You Take My Breath Away," (hubba-hubba) and, oh yes, "The Millionaire Waltz" (did you know that Freddie Mercury buys rare paintings in his spare time?). It does go on. Plenty of music hall bravura—Freddie Mercury as the King Sisters, except that Brian May is not Alvino Rey. Actually, Brian May hardly does much of anything on this album which means that unless you're a rock 'n' roll pansy you're not going to like this record very much (obviously these guys never got their tickets to Suffragette City).

Now that they're such good buddies with us Yanks they think they can throw in a tune like "White Man" (two words; these clown have obviously never read R. Crumb), about the plight of the Indians. Personally, I'd rather have Mark Lindsay's remake of "Indian Reservation" or "Please Mr. Custer" than this piece of "we're holier than you and besides it's not even our problem." But that's not the topper —the last track is "Teo Terriatte (Let Us Cling Together)" (cling, cling, as in static; somebody should have thrown a sheet of Bounce into the final mix), with chorus in a foreign language, Japanese I think. Now on the cover of this mag it says "America's Only Rock 'n' Roll Magazine" so if you want to do something for your country, cut out the last track and mail it to your Tokyo pen pal from high school who you never wrote back to, namely because you couldn't understand their English. Maybe he or she will appreciate it. In fact, why don't you mail them the whole album? And thank you for being an American.

Bonus:

Mail

Creem, 1st May 1977

Incest Is A Family Affair

I just read your article on Queen by Billy Altman and I hated it, in fact, I think it sucked out loud! I have most of the magazines on Queen and I never read a most rotten [Definitely, sic!—Ed.] article. If you write about a group you should build them up, not put them down. I'm not the only one to feel this way so Billy Altman..."Bite My Ass" 'cause Queen is Num. 1!

Mary Beth Barber

Charlotte, N.C.

(You've got a point...they're "num", all right. — Ed.)

Retrieved from The Creem Archive

[kainekron]

so every time I reread the stormlight archive I keep running the same scenario "how can we keep the story mostly the same but Tien is alive" so here's what I've come up with

How is he alive: well you have to keep all of Kal's angst about falling it's very important so... we can have it be that the squad Tien joined gained some level of distinction on the field enough to be sent to the Shattered plains and one of the kids says they couldn't have done it without Tien and that gets him sent out if you want Kal's whole "I was angry at Ammaram for not keeping his promise" you still have that and a bit of the angst over failing if not as much as the regular timeline. it also adds motivation for Kal trying to go to the shattered plains.

what's he like: he's not a ray of sunshine anymore he's not an asshole or a nihilistic shit head but he's not the little baby boy he has lived in the Sadeas war camp for like 6-7 years our boy has grown up, maybe he has a carpentry job lined up in the market maybe he saved up money to go back to hearthstone I change it almost every time I think about this. he probably has some grasp over his powers and probably has a deep shame over how different he is from what his family both expects and wants out of him.

Some moments I think about with him involved:

I like to think he's reintroduction is him becoming the second bridge Sargent after Gaz deserts he introduces himself and says something that is said in the flashbacks to sort of subtly tell Kaladin it's him but Kal misses it, Tien doesn't notice he tries to act bright and optimistic around Kal to you keep up to expectations but Kaladin and bridge 4 just think he's the most condescending Slimy bastard to ever live

the moment they realize the miss communication is when bridge 4 stays on the plateau next to the tower after Sadeas' betrayal when Tien stays with the "resting" bridge 4.

and bridge 4 are all obviously thinking "is this guy daft well just kill him and take the uniform" and Tien is like "this is great ya I lose things but Kal gets to run away" so they all wait till the arm is out of sight and Tien goes "great we can leave now right Kal" and then idk Moash tries to stab him till the reveal is made and confirmed and people from this Au's world throw out the book because that's super contrived

he probably asks for dalinar to make sure he survives and Dalinar is like "of course, you were the only soldier there with honor^tm" (and they either sneak him out or get him court marshaled or something.

he chooses to stay but doesn't join as a soldier he either works as a carpenter or tries to go back home, in words he probably shows up a few times to hang out with Kal and maybe has a run-in with Vale, if he leaves he could get killed by Skybreakers

Syl even post reveal doesn't like him because he has a cryptic around and she's racist bridge 4 might not like him much Renarin relates to him the few times they talk

when they get to Urithiru he reveals himself as a radiant probably dramatically to get Kaladin to take him with him to Hearthstone.

you can already see how the opening to Ob plays out with him there

and idk he's like Renarin he has some screen time but not much you know

relationship with Kaladin: he really wants Kal to like him and for Kal, be happy he maybe tries to get Kal out of the military but it fails.

Kaladin doesn't like that Tien is an adult now and acts like one and even just Tien not being an ultra-innocent sunshine boy is hard for Kal to accept mostly because I feel Kal put the kid up on a pedestal in his head like a damsel in distress. sorry to end with Kal's not the best older brother but this is my hot take/headcannon

[chronicallylatetotheparty]

Float Like A Butterfly... Ch.6 ...Sting Like A Bee

Summary: An unexpected ally appears before Marinette. The only problem is, he's stumbled onto something he shouldn't have. And she needs it back.

---------------------------------

Marinette was having a terrible day.

First she shows up late with the principal accessory of the Gabriel line's Fashion Week showing. Fashion Week! Marinette was looking forward to it all month! 

Next Audrey Bourgeois, Style Queen herself, treats the hat Marinette worked so hard on like gum on the bottom of her shoe. Sure Adrien had been super encouraging but he hadn't seen the look of utter contempt on Audrey Bourgeois face. No one could look that disgusted all the time!

Speaking of Adrien, he didn't make getting over him any easier by being so kind.

And if that wasn't enough Marinette's brain insisted on using Chat Noir's Miraculous to fight the akumatized villain. Again! She didn't want to think about Chat Noir right now because... Because... Marinette blinked rapidly. Deep breath... Because thinking about Chat Noir was painful.

But that wasn't even the worst part.

"Don't worry, Tikki. We'll get the box right after the show," Marinette stage whispered so as to not alert her parents. Who walked not even a meter away.

Tikki let out a concerned whine. Oh, this was a bad idea. She could feel it. Marinette was right that they couldn't get away from her parents beforehand. But that only made Tikki even more anxious to get searching. And Marinette really didn't need something else to worry about on top of... everything else.

She hoped no one found it.

----------------

Chloe's day was ridiculous. Utterly, ridiculous!

She sat next to her mother as Adrien walked down the runway. Lingering dread squashed and thrown into the very back of her mental walk-in closet where she kept unimportant things. Like shoes she never wore anymore, problematic outfits and lingering guilt that totally wasn't her's. Adrien wasn't slowly disintegrating anymore so why dwell on the past?

Adrien's performance was flawless and Chloe was absolutely certain she appreciated his efforts more than anyone else... Even if Alya Cesaire was livestreaming.

The show went off without a hitch. Adrien seemed fine but then he was almost as good at pretending as she was. Chloe eyed him as Gabriel's lackey, um, assistant pulled him along. Not physically, of course. It was more of a metaphorical pulling.

Ugh, Gabriel Agreste started talking with Chloe's mother through his assistant's tablet. Like, yeah, apologizing to the Queen of Style was a no brainer. But he could have at least come in person! Not like Gabriel was doing anything important besides being the world's richest hermit.

... And Dupain-Cheng was there too. Of course she was. At least her mother would put Dupain-Cheng in her place. Chloe felt herself smirk at the thought.

Adrien raised an eyebrow. As though reading her mind.

Chloe pretended not to notice. No petty satisfactions here! No, sir! But it wasn't like the Queen of Style was going to say anything about Dupain-Cheng's hat except-

"It's the most exceptional thing I've ever seen!" Audrey Bourgeois announced.

Exact- Wait, what!?

"You're a visionary, Marinette! Glitter's had its day..."

Chloe's ears rang, drowning out her mother's voice. Exceptional? Her? Over a- a- a hat!? A vice squeezed Chloe's chest with cruel precision. When her own present was rejected without even unwrapping it!? Chloe's fists shook as she bit her tongue.

"Isn't that nice for your friend, Chloe dearest?" Andre Bourgeois asked.

"It's ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!" Chloe whirled on her mother. "I've never been to New York with you and you're taking Marinette Dupain-Cheng!?" She spat.

"I'm afraid I have a last minute meeting to attend, my dear Audrey," Gabriel announced from the tablet. "Nathalie, bring Adrien home immediately."

Adrien's attention snapped from Chloe to Gabriel. "But, Father, I-"

"Do not embarrass me in front of the Bourgeois," Gabriel snapped, ending the call.

Jaw clenching shut, Adrien stared at nothing with stormy eyes as Nathalie led him away.

"I'm taking her because she's exceptional, Claudette. Uh- Chloe," Audrey stated matter-of-factly, the Agrestes already forgotten.

"I'm exceptional too!" Chloe shot back.

Audrey inspected her white gloves, bored of this exchange. "The only exceptional thing about you, my dear-" Audrey deigned to glance at her daughter. "-is your mother."

Chloe's blood boiled as she shook off Andre's hands on her shoulders, standing straighter. "I'll show you how exceptional I can be!" she promised.

Just as an akuma entered Chloe's present.

---------------

Alya was having an amazing day!

Her livestreams hadn't gotten this many new views since she almost got sacrificed by Pharaoh. The Ladyblog's activity was up. And Ladybug chose her as the Black Cat!

Sure it was weird that Ladybug didn't want to talk about it. But still! Black Cat! Alya tried to contain her grin as she thought about being Ladybug's partner for a day...

Her pace on the sidewalk slowed, enthusiasm dampening a little... Setting her face in determination Alya skipped into gear. All the more reason to piece together what happened! And she'd start with-

A burst of yellow light shot forth from the Grand Palais. Jolting Alya out of her thoughts as the newest akuma victim gave their villain speech from the roof.

"I am Queen Glitter! And from now on the only exceptional person in Paris will be me!"

Alya ran... straight for the villain who was obviously Chloe as she summoned a cloud of glitter and shapped it into a collection of accessories. The constructs restricting the movement of whoever they landed on. Scarves wrapping people's legs together or tying them to lampposts. Hats covering people's eyes as they tried to yank them off. There was even someone with his hands stuck in high heels. Queen Glitter made a giant floating scarf to stand on and took off in a random direction; leaving a trail of gaudy accessories in her wake.

Great. It was going to take forever to catch up to her now! Taking cover in an alleyway so Queen Glitter's sparkly formal wear wouldn't notice her, Alya scanned the street. Mentally kicking herself for not having recorded the villain speech for the Ladyblog.

"Looks like you're raring to go," Ladybug observed as she landed next to Alya. A familiar box in her hand.

"Ladybug! Didn't think I'd be helping out again so soon!" Alya held out her palm and Ladybug placed the Black Cat Miraculous in her hands again.

"Y'know the drill, right?" Ladybug's eyes wandered to the people in various states of running-for-their-lives.

"Give it back when we're done and don't take it personally," Alya paraphrased as Plagg emerged in a ball of light when she placed the ring on her finger.

"Ladyblog girl again?” Plagg gave her a once over. Ears flat against his head but swishing tail betraying his apprehension. "Well, at least Alya's not blue boy."

“He wasn’t that-“ Ladybug shook her head. “Y’know what, never mind.”

Glancing between them Alya filed that tidbit away for later. "C'mon, Plagg. We did great together!"

"You were okay," Plagg acknowledged. "Could've used more cat puns."

Alya chuckled. Of course he'd like those. With a -slightly forced- encouraging smile from Ladybug, Alya called out: “Plagg, transforme-moi!”

Green lightning traveled from Chat Noir’s ring across both arms and down her torso. A green sash wrapping around her waist and trailing into a tail. Running her clawed gloves through her hair as cat ears materialized. Said hair puffing up into an afro. Armor padding her shoulders and torso. Alya flexed her fingers to get used to the feeling. Chat Ombre's suit still felt strange on her skin compared to Rena Rouge.

Ladybug leapt onto the rooftops and Chat Ombre followed her lead. Racing towards the villain while avoiding her glitter. "So what's the plan?"

"Queen Glitter is basically a reskin of Style Queen," Ladybug thought aloud.

"But without that annoying habit of turning into a cloud!" Chat Ombre supplied.

Ladybug launched her yo-yo at a pedestrian and yanked him away from Queen Glitter's constructs as they passed by. "But she can spread her power over a wider area."

"Don't worry, Ladybug. We'll be- Look out!" Alya tackled Ladybug out of the way as a trio of glittery top hats zoomed past.

"Your reign is over Ladybug and wannabe Chat Noir!" Queen Glitter announced as she floated over them. Her appearance was similar to Style Queen except her crown was even bigger and gaudier. A foux glitter scarf around her shoulders. "I don't even care if you don't give me your Miraculous! I'll simply immobilize you and take them by force!"

They evaded a flurry of coats by jumping down to the street. "Really?" Chat Ombre called out. "That all you can throw at us? A tacky outfit?"

"Wouldn't be the first time!" Ladybug agreed.

"No one ever appreciates my gifts!" Queen Glitter stomped her foot. "Fine then. Why don't we try something more expensive!" Raising her hands she lifted two cars wrapped with giant bows into the air.

Alya's eyes widened. "Oh, shi-" Chat Ombre evaded Chloe's attacks as the villain played wack-a-chat. Glitter accessories flying in and attempting to restrict their movements as well.

Ladybug wrapped one of the vehicles with her yo-yo and spun it back at Queen Glitter.

The bright red sports car hurled towards her and- She stopped it with the palm of her hand. "You'll have to do better than that if- Where'd you go!?" Queen Glitter scanned the empty street, rising higher for a better vantage point.

Chat Ombre locked eyes with her for a second before a chimney obscured her line of sight. "Somehow I don't think that bought us much time." Alya voiced as a wave of clothing rose over the city.

Ladybug spotted a strip of blue between the rooftops. Thinking quickly, Marinette grabbed Alya's hand and turned them towards the Seine. Diving into its waters with a torrent of glitter in their wake.

Queen Glitter's constructs crashed into the river and washed away with the current.

Chat Ombre made for the surface once it was clear but Ladybug pulled her back. Chat's staff in her hand and yo-yo on her face. Pointing towards the magic tool Ladybug offered it to Alya.

Nodding, Alya quickly pressed it to her lips and took a deep breath, sweet oxygen filling her lungs. Giving Ladybug a thumbs up once she didn't feel like her chest was on fire.

Grabbing her hand Ladybug led Alya further upstream until they found a boat.

Gasping the (relatively) fresh air Alya examined Chat's staff. "I didn't know it could do that."

"Yeah, the Miraculous are full of surprises. And we'll need one of our own to beat Queen Glitter. Lucky Charm!"

A spotted snorkel fell into Ladybug's hands.

"Don't we already have one of those?" Chat Ombre asked.

Ladybug's brow furrowed as she stared at it. "Yeah... Wait, Queen Glitter's powers don't work underwater!"

"So, all we need to do is get her there!" 

Ladybug glanced at a pair of recycling bins. "And I know just how to sneak up on her."

Chat Ombre grinned. She liked this plan.

---------------

Chat Ombre hated this plan!

It had all gone smoothly. The glitter constructs ignoring the recycling bins they used as disguises. Snake style. Chloe was dumbfounded when she saw them. Enough to let them take the elevator up to the Grand Paris' rooftop where Queen Glitter set up her makeshift throne. Giving them the opportunity to tackle her towards the Seine.

Unfortunately, Queen Glitter could make constructs of any size. Like, for example, a wide brimmed hat big enough to stretch from either bank of the Seine.

"You were going to make me wear this?" Queen Glitter held up the Lucky Charm- "No thanks!" -and struck it across her knee.

Alya winced as the villain broke Ladybug's insta-win button in half. "Please, tell me you have a plan?" Chat Ombre glanced at the spotted hero currently wrapped up in an extra long scarf just like she was. The floating constructs squeezing just a little bit more as Ladybug struggled against them. Alya tried bending her wrist to Cataclysm her restraints but her right hand was held away from the rest of her body.

"No planning! Not that it'll do you any good. I've already won! Me! Queen Glitter! MWAHAHAHAH- Do you mind? I'm trying to savour the moment!" Chloe snapped as Papillon's emblem glowed over her face.

Alya's head turned from an increasingly frantic Ladybug to the annoyed villain.

"Of course I'm going to take their Miraculous! Why wouldn't I take their Miraculous?"

"An excellent question, your Highness!"

Three pairs of eyes snapped towards the source of the unexpected voice.

"... Who the heck are you supposed to be?" Queen Glitter demanded.

"Aristos! At your service!" He bowed with a flourish, giving Alya a good look at the bee shaped comb at the base of his ponytail. Blond hair highlighted with black stripes. Goggles obscuring his face, making his green eyes hard to read despite the grin on his lips. Suit mostly yellow with black, V-shaped stripes on his torso, forearms and lower legs. Three hexagons on his chest giving the impression of honeycombs.

"No no no no no no." Ladybug stared at Aristos, not realizing that she was speaking aloud.

...Well, that can't be good, Alya thought.

"Ha! Did you really think more insects would help, Ladybug?" The villain mocked. Her constructs closing in on the interloper.

Aristos' smile took on a darker edge. "I'm not with her, your Majesty. I'm here to pledge myself to the most exceptional Queen I've ever seen! Really, where does Papillon get off talking to such a glittery figure as your Highness like that?"

Alya blinked. Really? Even Chloe wouldn't fall for-

Raising her hand the villain halted her constructs' advance. "Hmm, well at least you know how to treat royalty." Queen Glitter offered her bejeweled fingers. "I guess you can be my underling."

Ah. Right. Never underestimate the power of Chloe's ego.

The Bee, Alya was ninety-nine percent sure he was the Bee, took Chloe's offered hand and leaned down. Lips hovering over the back of her hand. "Oh! That reminds me your Highness, I have a gift for you."

Queen Glitter's eyes shone. "A present? For me? It better be the latest- Ow! I'm getting to that!" She snapped at Papillon, looking away from the Bee to glare at the absent supervillain.

Aristos removed the striped top Alya recognized as his Miraculous tool from around his waist.

"You didn't beat them! I did!"

Casually, carefully, Aristos placed his top on Queen Glitter's hand. Point against her glittering skin.

"You couldn't do it yourself so you sent me!"

"Venom," the Bee breathed.

"What was-"

Queen Glitter froze as Aristos' top glowed; his power paralyzing her. The constructs bursting into clouds of glitter. Chat Ombre landed in a crouch as her restraints vanished.

"It worked." Aristos sounded as surprised as Alya felt. "It worked! Yes! Nailed it!" He pumped his fist as relief overflowed and- Was he crying?. "Independent hero debut successful!"

"What?" Ladybug was staring at the Bee apprehensively and that didn't help Alya's nerves.

Aristos' mood instantly became more subdued. Blinking rapidly to get the water out of his eyes. "Oh, right. You're still here."

Chat Ombre tried not to take that personally. He did just save them, after all.

Ladybug stepped forward. Voice even, diplomatic. Never mind that she seemed this close to freaking out. "Listen, Aristos was it? I don't know how you found that Miraculous but you have to give it back."

His face was disturbingly neutral. "...Don't I get a 'thank you' for saving the day?"

The tension in Ladybug's shoulders wouldn't budge. "Thank you, but I really need that Miraculous back." She held out her hand.

Aristos stared at Ladybug's hand like it was something alien. Cracks appearing in his facade. "Yeah, pass."  Walking backwards, away from Ladybug and Chat Ombre, he kept them in his field of vision.

"Wh- The- Y-you can't just decide that!" Ladybug sputtered, stepping forward.

"Just did! How do I even know this Miraculous is even yours?" Aristos asked, increasing the distance between them.

Alya got the distinct impression that he was bullshitting them.

"I'm the one who lost it!"

Alya's eyes widened. "You lost a Miraculous?"

"Not helping, Chat!"

Aristos' features twitched, eyes narrowing. "Sure you say it's yours but how do I know that?"

Chat Ombre bristled at the implication. "Ladybug is the Hero of Paris!"

Aristos gave her a once-over, his expression inscrutable, but said nothing.

Wow. Rude.

"That Miraculous belongs to the G- to me."

"That's interesting because I say it belongs to me." Aristos laid a hand on his chest. "Looks like it's your word against mine. Guess which one I'm choosing?"

Ladybug's yo-yo was suddenly spinning in her hand. "I swear, I'm not gonna lose another-"

An insistent beeping from Ladybug's earrings interrupted her.

"Welp! Love to stay and dance but it looks like you two need to buzz off before your precious identities are exposed to little old me."

Why did he sound bitter? Everything about him made Alya's head spin with questions. Not least of which being how the heck someone holding the Bee Miraculous showed up in the first place.

Taking his top, Aristos hopped onto the edge of the Grand Paris' roof. "Might want to deal with her before that happens."

Alya looked to where he was pointing to see Queen Glitter still paralyzed. When she glanced back at the Bee he was gone.

---------------

Adrien's day sucked.

Paris Fashion Week was always a chore but this year was even worse. Despite having friends around he felt lonelier than ever. Getting to talk to Marinette only helped so much. Adrien was still expected to plaster on a smile and represent 'the brand'.

And that was before he got turned into a freaking statue!

At least it's better than mind control.

Shut up!

He did not want to see Ladybug or her new partner up close and personal! Thank you, very much! But like always what Adrien wanted didn't matter.

Imagine his surprise when a Miraculous practically falls into his lap. A familiar glow blooming in his chest against all reason as Adrien opens the box.

"Hello, my King," the unknown, bee-like kwami greets formally.

There's a turning in his stomach that Adrien tries his best to calm it. "H-hi! I'm Adrien. What's your name?"

"I am Pollen," she bowed. "Kwami of Subjection. An honor to meet you. It has been a long time since I've had a king."

"Just Adrien is fine." Taking the Miraculous, a comb of all things, out of it's box Adrien stares at it. It's disguise all black and only vaguely shaped like a bee compared to the details he glimpsed before Pollen came out.

"Of course, my King."

Adrien sighed. Pollen was nothing like Plagg. Then again, Adrien wasn't sure the world could survive two of him. The lazy little jerk was enough to drive any Guardian mad all by himself... God, he missed Plagg.

"Um, anyway, how does your power work?"

Pollen clapped her small appendages together. "It's very straightforward, my King. You simply call out 'Venom' and your top will activate. Then strike your opponent with the point and they'll be paralyzed for however long you desire." She whooshed toward him for emphasis.

"Paralyze..." That was certainly more straightforward than using Cataclysm.

'Cause you sucked at that, didn't you?

Shut up. This was... What was he doing? When Adrien held the Bee in his hands he felt... Alive. Like a promise that things could be better this time around.

Adrien jumped as insistent knocking on his changing room door startled him out of his thoughts.

"M. Agreste? Mme. Sancoeur says we're back on in five."

"Be right out!" Brushing the Miraculous with his thumb to make sure it was really there Adrien placed it in his pocket. Hesitating for a moment he offered his jacket to Pollen.

Nodding, she zoomed into Plagg's old hiding place.

Taking a deep breath, Adrien opened the door. "Let's get this over with."

---------------

Adrien ran off as soon as Papillon's mark appeared on Chloe's face. Catching Marinette doing the same from the corner of his eye. Glass raining down as Queen Glitter broke through the Grand Palais' roof.

Pollen zipping out as he tied his hair into a makeshift ponytail. Holding it in place with the Bee Miraculous.

"Quickly, my King! Say 'Pollen, transforme-moi'!"

Adrien stared at her. He could hear screaming as people ran.

"My King!"

His oldest friend just got akumatized for the second time.

"My King!"

All he had to do was speak!

"Adrien!"

His knees shook as his back hit the wall behind him for support. "But... I wasn't chosen."

Pollen floated higher as her eyes widened in surprise. "Weren't you given my Miraculous?"

Adrien shook his head. "I f-found it... After giving up the Black Cat."

This time Pollen dipped as she nearly fell out of the air. "Chat Noir."

Adrien shook his head even more emphatically. Hands going up to cover his face. "N-no! Not him! Can't be him!" he choked.

Pollen laid her hand on his and Adrien tensed at the touch. "My King."

Something in her voice made Adrien look at her.

"You wish to help, do you not?"

"... Yes."

Pollen's eyes softened. "Then help."

Adrien stared at her. So sure that she'd want nothing to do with him once she knew what a failure he was... But that wasn't the case.

Rising shakily to his feet Adrien gave Pollen a grateful smile. "Pollen, transforme-moi'."

----------------

Aristos panted as he glanced up from the alleyway. Spotting no pursuers. "Pollen, detransforme-moi."

Landing on Adrien's outstretched palms, Pollen beamed tiredly at him. "Excellent work, my King."

Adrien smiled back. "Oh! What do you eat? Plagg loves Camembert but..."

"That would be fine. However, I prefer something sweeter."

"Yeah..." A weight settled on his chest. "Let's see what we can find..."

Pollen frowned. "Is something wrong, my King?"

Adrien avoided her gaze. What was he supposed to say? That disobeying Ladybug felt wrong? That he almost let his guilt and resentment make him say cruel things to his replacement? That his heart wouldn't stop pounding? "It's just... Do you want to go back?"

Pollen blinked.

"You're supposed to listen to the Guardian, right?" Adrien bit his lip as his heart tried jumping up his throat. "It's not fair of me to keep you if you want to go back."

Pollen sat up on his palms. "I have been in the Miracle Box for a long time, my King. I can think of worse things than spending what time I have outside it with you."

Adrien's eyes burned as he wiped away tears. "Thanks, Pollen."

Ladybugs swirled in the sky as they repaired the city.

"Of course, my King," Pollen smiled.

"Call me Adrien."

"Yes, my King."

Adrien sighed. A smile coming to his lips. Looks like Aristos was sticking around for a while.

-----------------------------

Retroactively giving Black Cat Alya an afro.