#but she has a bad habit of ignoring her very good instincts if it makes people she cares about happy

[fereldanwench]

Afterlife, here we come, baby!

mods: jacket & pants | tank top ⚠️ do not reupload or edit my shots without my permission ⚠️

[princessjojo-x]

Moon Synastry

ignore the crossed out parts bc that’s just for me & my chart 😊

💝 moon conjunct rising - moon is drawn/attached to rising.

💝 moon conjunct sun - finding this person feels like finally coming home bc you see parts of themselves in them. consequently, you both understand each other but also judge each other. sometimes you see this aspect in pairings that don’t make sense or seem mismatched; you can’t understand what attracted them to each other bc they look like polar opposites. you’d never suspect how much they have in common under the surface bc this aspect is so quiet. moon can become quite clingy of sun & it can be hard for partners to separate (even if outsiders try to split them up). i’ve noticed they tend to love each others cooking too.

💝 moon conjunct moon - partners may reflect each other's negative traits & they may find that too overwhelming. on the contrary, there is something abt one another that makes partners feel comfortable. both understand each other since they both express emotions the same way. however, the strong empathy they feel for one another can cause them to get lost in the emotional tide & lose sight of who the other truly is. partners pull on each others emotional strings, for better or worse. it can feel very emotionally exhausting & intense. partners may repeatedly dump all of their emotional baggage on to each other until both feel suffocated.

💝 moon conjunct venus - this can only be described as a deep, powerful & magnetizing rxship. partners have matching love languages & similar value systems. partners feel seen, supported & understood. moon may feel an unexplainable pull or attraction to venus, even if that’s not in a romantic way. venus is uncontrollably obsessed & emotionally hooked to moons presence. venus helps moon embody their true body, meaning moon becomes more beautiful when around venus. however, partners have a tendency to enable & feed into each others bad habits & behaviour. despite the rxship progressing quickly, partners always ends on bad terms, with feelings of bitterness or hatred. however, somehow partners always come back to one another, until they have learned their lesson. if partners don’t happen to return back to each other, one or both will always have the desire to do so, due to all the comforting memories & genuine love that existed between the two. due to how sentimental & nostalgic this aspect is, breaking up & forgetting each other is a hellish experience.

💝 moon conjunct mars - the status of this rxship constantly fluctuates between good terms to bad terms. partners have intense arguments but still crave each other afterwards. this emotional & physical connection is hard to completely break apart. there’s plenty of valuable lessons learnt in this partnership. partners feel a safe & familiar feeling when with each other. this aspect reveals the instinctive sides of both partners. usually, mars is more energetic than moon & moon may feel triggered by mars. due to the intensity of this aspect, expect irritation, passion & fertility. if moon is female & mars is male, he will easily bring out her feminine side & make her feel broody, regardless of how masculine she may be. she’ll involuntarily perceive him as very masculine & father like. if moon is male & mars is female, she will be the dominant partner & this will get tiresome after awhile. she’s theoretically embodying the intiative & proactive energy in the rxship so he may be more passive in response to her efforts, unless there’s other aspects to negate this. (aries mars or taurus moon)

💝moon conjunct pluto - obsession, imbalance of power, control. this can make you feel like the other is the ”only one” or the “first one” regarding something. for example a woman who has a bad rxship with men might meet a man, have this synastry with him & feel like he is the first man she ever felt safe around.(aries pluto or sagitarius moon)

💝 moon conjunct saturn - this aspect indicates partners getting together/moving quickly.

💝 moon conjunct neptune - marriage indicator (aquarius moon or aries neptune)

💝 moon trine moon - creates an empathetic bond & both feel safe in each others presence; there’s a feeling of “being home” when you’re together. mutual feelings for each other & show it in similar ways. you two just get each other. although you may have slightly different ways of expressing love, you still understand each other's love language to make this connection feel safe and warm. it's easy to share your feelings with each other and open up when you have this aspect and it's also so calming to be in this persons presence. they're the type of person that helps you sleep at night.

💝 moon trine venus - partners likely have similar interests & tastes so the connection feels smooth. partners have an endless amount of forgiveness for each other. however, partners may struggle to establish boundaries with the other. venus understands exactly what brings moon comfort & venus loves reassuring moon with affection. venus makes moon feel safe & warm. (sag/leo venus or virgo/cap moon)

💝 moon quincunx moon - these rxships may feel fated. these are the partners you can’t help but be shaped by. even though it’s challenging to say the least, this duo tends to stick together for a longtime. (scorpio or virgo moon)

💝 moon opposite moon - this aspect can either be a perfect couple or a complete disaster. despite the small differences at the beginning, partners grow to understand eachother & realise their emotional needs are more similar than they expected. they treat each other with sweetness & delicacy.

💝 moon opposite venus - venus may feel moon is too distant. venus wishes moon was more caring & loving. (libra venus or scorpio moon)

💝 moon opposite mars - these planets arguably work better in opposition than conjunction within synastry. what one partner lacks, the other partner possesses, which can create the ultimate romantic fulfilment, if paired with effort & acceptance of each other. typically, partners do fight often but theyfind it very hard to let each other go. this bond is very raw & real. (libra mars or scorpio moon)

💝 moon opposite saturn - moon craves love & support but saturn is unable to provide. moon feels abandoned & will eventually distance themselves. saturn is usually very unaware of moon feelings. (libra saturn or sagittarius moon)

💝 moon square sun - partners are drawn to each-other like magnets & attracted to each other due to opposite qualities. however, this can become a big problem in the long term bc those differences that once made you attracted can make you repulsed once the honey moon stage is over. typically, sun will want something casual & sexual but moon will want something serious & loving. to make this work partners need to compromise a lot. also, partners can be competitive with each other, especially sun. (cancer/cap sun or moon)

💝 moon square moon - partners have an immediate emotional response to each other upon first impressions. despite the initial attraction, there’s an emotional disconnect. partners cannot understand each-others emotions which causes unnecessary misunderstandings & constant bickering. there’s many differences in how partners express their emotions & what they need to feel nurtured. despite the love they may share for one another, they view each other's ways of expression as incorrect. one or both feel deeply misunderstood or judged by the other. one will feel like their feelings are always being disregarded by the other. due to the continuous clashes resentment builds over time. partners can be overly involved in each others lives & overstep boundaries. since they likely have different maternal upbringings there may be conflict with each other's mothers or families. however, this difficult placement can be balanced or diluted if there’s further moon conjunctions present in the synastry chart (eg ‘venus conjunct moon’ or ‘sun conjunct moon’). for this partnership to survive effort needs to be made which shouldn’t be difficult if partners care abt each other. one has to come out of their comfort zone & go out of their way to make the other feel nurtured & satisfied. it takes a lot of acceptance, communication & regular check ins to work but unfortunately it rarely ever does. they may be worlds apart yet there is still a strong yearning for one another. this aspect is often seen within flings or very passionate rxships. (cancer/cap moon)

💝 moon square venus - any harsh aspects between venus & moon can indicate unrequited love. moon is attached to & idolises venus. venus enjoys moon’s company but they aren’t that romantically involved or interested. (can/cap venus or leo/aqua moon)

💝 moon square mars - any harsh aspect between these two planets causes complex chemistry. you don’t know if you want to rip their head off or rip their shirt off. they just know what to say to piss you off yet there’s something so appealing & alluring abt them. (cancer/cap mars or leo/aqua moon)

💝 moon square mercury - both partners feel misunderstood by the other. it's hard for moon to express emotions to mercury & mercury feels they have to walk on eggshells around moon. (cap/cancer merc or moon)

💝 moon square saturn - this aspect indicates a slow burn rxship & taking a long time to finally get together. a lot of insecurity here, moon feels like their feelings are being invalidated & criticised by saturn (cancer/capricorn saturn or virgo/pisces moon)

💝 moon square uranus - this aspect indicates partners getting together/moving quickly. however, uranus will pop in & out of moons life. moon needs support & security but uranus has other intentions & isn’t concerned abt moon’s feelings. (cancer/capricorn uranus or taurus/scorpio moon)

[ronjacksilver4816]

Funtime Foxy!

All good circus performers need a ringmaster. And who do you call for this task? None other than Funtime Foxy!

As a fellow performer in Circus Baby's Pizza World and self-entitled ringmaster of the area, Funtime Foxy is a mixture of stellar acting, hypnotic allure, and lovely acting rolled into a white and pink coat of fur. She loves to entice the crowd with incredible performances all around, whether it be hamming up a storm or singing like a siren. She loves to look after others and herself, including her own appearance, and she likes all things pink and flowery. A hopeless romantic, she supports the relationships of all her friends, even those she doesn't have the most connection towards.

Pros:

Cleanliness: Funtime Foxy is very feminine and girly (probably the girliest of the female Funtime animatronics), and likes to take good care of her appearance; one could say she's a bit vain, even. She brushes her fur and applies makeup between performances, irons her clothes regularly to keep them from wearing out, and likes to wear perfume to make herself smell nice (she says it's for added effect, but it's definitely meant to draw male animatronics to her). It's what allows her to have such good attention to detail.

Sophisticated: Funtime Foxy speaks and acts in a very eloquent and lively manner; perfect for when she wants to make friends with other uptight and sophisticated animatronics around the Pizzaplex.

Talented: Her bread and butter. Funtime Foxy is one hell of an actress and performer, and she's called the Pizzaplex's #1 drama queen for a reason (if you couldn't already tell from the drawing). When the spotlight's on her, she just loves to ham up a crowd for attention, no matter how big. And off-stage, she likes to sing her heart out, and she has a hypnotic singing voice, lemme put like this.

And just like Funtime Freddy, she's built with a voice modulator onto her chest, allowing her to mimic others' voices. This is one of the reasons why she's such a talented actor; that masculine "Announcer" voice you often hear her speak with? That's just for show. Her real voice is soft and feminine.

Alluring: She's found to be quite attractive to most of the male animatronics, yet she frequently ignores them all, believing them to not be up to her standards. The one guy she seems to be the most attracted to appears to be Funtime Freddy, surprisingly enough. Hmm... Maybe she sees him as something more, perchance?

Loyal: Despite her vanity and self-centered moments, Funtime Foxy loves and respects her friends; she makes sure their performances are going well, looks after them when they can't perform, and even joins them in some performances when she's in a really good mood. In fact, the whole reason why she hasn't left her job (despite working in a literal mall that serves pizza and works for a franchise that has a bad reputation for murdered children) is because she wants to work to her fullest and not leave it too soon.

Primal instincts: Contrasting her sophisticated personality, Funtime Foxy has incredible fox-like instincts. She can smell things up to 10 miles away, can find others via sound, and has teeth that feel like they're made of steel.

Assertive: She's not just a pretty face! She has pretty good fighting skills (so long as she doesn't get herself dirty, that is) and her first instinct upon being threatened is to snap her fangs at others. She's also very protective of others and will do her best to defend them from harm.

Cons:

Vanity: Funtime Foxy's a bit of an egomaniac and often spends a lot of time looking at her reflection and tending to her beauty. It's good to take care of her appearance, yet her vanity can blind her from her friends and other things, especially when she finds herself dirty. That's not to mention her attention-craving habits.

Shyness: Deep down, Funtime Foxy's not exactly as extroverted and ready to star in the show like the audience believes she is. She thinks she's not good enough because she isn't on the main stage with the others. She believes she's destined to be shelved because her lineage has had the same fate time and time again. She worries she's not good enough. Thus, her compliments in the mirror, while narcissistic at first glance, are just reassurance from a frightened, worried fox who wants to live up to her lineage.

Finicky: She's a bit of a perfectionist, and this often leads her to lose time in tryingto get things neat and up to her standards.

Stuffiness: Her sophisticated attitude causes her to clash heavily against some of the more rowdy animatronics in the Pizzaplex. Case in point: Mangle. She just sees her as a messier, louder, and carefree version of herself. Though, then again, there is Funtime Freddy... Hmm...

Uncontrollable melodramatics: As mentioned before, Funtime Foxy is a drama queen. That position has caused her to be overdramatic and freak out over the tiniest things. And that, of course, leads to chaotic mood swings, usually ranging from temper to hysterics and sobbing.

Temperamental: Remember what I said up above about Funtime Foxy's mood swings and how they can lead her to getting angered very quickly? This is what I meant. Some things that really push her buttons are:

Stepping on her tail.

Getting her dirty.

Missing her shows.

Getting her gender wrong.

[frogs-in3-hills]

Day 3 of the @domaystic prompt challenge: "List"

Ace Attorney | Gen | SFW | 1,382 words

Relationships: Kay Faraday & Trucy Wright, Athena Cykes & Apollo Justice & Phoenix Wright & Trucy Wright

POV Kay Faraday

Summary: The unofficial rules of the Wright Anything Agency.

“Okay, one more paper to sign, and we’re all done, Kay,” Trucy says, bouncing on her toes with a little tilt to her head.

“Awesome! Bring it on, kiddo.”

Trucy says it like she feels bad about it, but really, Kay’s barely even been here for fifteen minutes, and that’s only because her instincts simply won’t allow her to sign any papers she hasn’t gone over with a fine-toothed comb—yes, even when it’s coming from your friend’s “friend’s” weird little daughter. Becoming an official member of the Wright Anything Agency has been an absolute breeze.

Of course, it’s only a temporary contract. Kay just needs some specific credentials for the job she’s about to go on, and that includes being employed by a legal office like the WAA. Which, surprisingly, is actually considered to be a legal office in the eyes of, well, the law.

After three months, she’ll be out again. She’s done this once or twice with Mr. Edgeworth before, getting him to sign her on as a legal assistant so that she can gain better access to things she’s not supposed to have access to. He justifies it to himself by saying that the only way to stop Kay from breaking the law is to make the things she’s doing less illegal. This is, of course, correct.

This time, though, she can’t go to Mr. Edgeworth, because the legality of her current mission is slightly more dubious. Bless his heart, but Mr. Edgeworth is so rigid, it’s best to just let him turn a blind eye sometimes for his own mental well-being. So here she is, speaking to Trucy, because Kay knows that Trucy knows that “legality” is less of a boolean yes-or-no and more of a sliding scale.

Trucy hands her the last sheet, and the first thing Kay notices about it is that it’s not actually a printed document—it’s a photocopy of a printed document. The text is straight, but the margins are slightly offset. As a Great Thief (and a paralegal), obviously it’s her job to notice this kind of thing.

Across the top, in big bold letters, it reads:

Unofficial Rules of the Wright Anything Agency

“Hey Trucy,” Kay starts. “Why do I have to sign this if it’s unofficial?”

“Oh, it’s not legally binding or anything,” Trucy says flippantly. “It’s more like, um… a petition, I guess? You’re just kind of stating your support or your intent. That’s what Daddy said, anyways, when I tried to make it actually legally binding.”

“Oh, okay,” she replies. Kay isn’t in the habit of signing things she doesn’t totally need to, but she also likes to think of herself as a very generous person, so she gives the document a look.

It’s just an ordered list, reading:

1. If Athena is in the kitchenette, then everyone else has to leave.

“Off to an understandable start,” Kay comments.

“Yeah, we made Athena write the first rule because the whole thing was her idea. She said she was confused by our workplace dynamic and we needed to lay out some proper guidelines.”

Kay thinks it’s a good thing Athena doesn’t visit the Prosecutor’s Office very often, then.

2. There is no toilet cleaning schedule and there never will be. We acknowledge the inconvenience this may cause, and subsequently ignore it. 3. Trucy’s glitter gel pens are off-limits. 4. Apollo and Athena must refer to Charley as ‘Mr. Charley’, as he is senior staff. 5. Mr. Wright may redirect all odd jobs and requests towards their legal branch members. 6. Chess.com is banned until further notice. 7. All HR complaints go to Trucy. 8. Personal note: Don’t get into bets with Trucy. 9. Personal note: No matter what Trucy says, it is NOT Talk Like A Pirate Day. Do not believe her.

Kay flashes a side-long glance at the young girl sitting before her.

“You aren’t terrorizing your employees too much, are you?”

Trucy pouts. “If I tell you the truth, are you going to publish an expose about it?”

“Not if I sign this paper, I won’t!”

10. Personal note: Do not share existential fun facts with Apollo, it scares him.

Kay puts the paper down for a second. “So, just to clarify…”

“Uh-huh?”

“Regarding these personal notes, am I specifically agreeing that Athena should follow these rules, or am I agreeing to keep these notes in mind for personal endeavors?”

“Uh…” Trucy frowns. “Well, I dunno, I’m not the lawyer around here!”

Kay blinks. Honestly, she kind of doubts the whole clueless act—after all, Trucy is apparently responsible for putting together all the other employee forms, and that requires at least a little bit of business awareness—and she’s also grinning really wide, with that innocent look in her eyes, and it reminds her so much of Phoenix’s bluffing face that it honestly makes Kay a little sick to her stomach. In an awwe kind of way, not an eww kind of way.

“Yeah, okay,” she cedes.

11. Any changes to file organization standards MUST be fielded by Apollo before being applied to every document in the agency. 12. Trucy may request the magical assistance of any employee. All employees, regardless of specialization, are additionally listed as magician’s assistants on the WAA website. 13. Non-negotiable: When in the office, Athena’s lunch break starts at 1:00 PM, no matter what “important investigation” she may be busy with at the time. She is expected to plan her schedule accordingly. -Phoenix

Ooh, scary Mr. Wright. Kay supposes having a kid will do that to you.

14. Anyone is allowed to drink Mr. Wright’s grape juice, because it really is just grape juice? 15. Whoever won the case must pay for Eldoon’s, regardless of whether they’ve received compensation yet. 16. Trucy may not provide Evidence Disappearing Services unless specifically requested. 17. Nobody is allowed to actually make fun of Apollo’s forehead. 18. The protein bars stationed at multiple points around the office are for ATHENA ONLY. Do not eat. 19. All pranks are permitted, provided they are not cruel or unusual in any way. Dangerous pranks are okay. 20. Addendum: Dangerous pranks are NOT okay?? -Apollo 21. Addendum: Dangerous pranks are okay. -Phoenix 22. Addendum: Dangerous pranks are okay. -Trucy 23. I’m staying out of this one. -Athena 24. No alliances. 25. Most importantly, if the opportunity arises to gently bully Apollo, it is your duty to seize this opportunity and “yes, and” it into oblivion.

And… huh.

“Y’know, these are actually surprisingly tame,” Kay says finally.

Trucy gasps. “Oh, right, you go to the prosecutor’s office kind of a lot, don’t you? All of this must just be chump change to you!”

“You bet! It’s seriously lucky they’ve got Mr. Edgeworth around to keep everything in check, otherwise it’d become a hostile workplace environment in two seconds.”

“So… does that mean you’ll be signing, Auntie Kay?”

Ooh, pulling out the big guns, huh? Lucky for her, Kay’s got a strong mind, and recovers from the Auntie Card fairly quickly.

“Tell me again what happens if I don’t sign it?”

To be clear, all of the terms seem pretty reasonable to Kay—she just wants to know what Trucy will say.

“Well, legally, I don’t do anything to you if you don’t,” Trucy says thoughtfully.

Kay grins. “And what about illegally?”

“Kay!” Trucy cries. “You think I would do something illegal? That’s totally crazy-talk! My dad’s a lawyer, you know.”

Ooh, good answer. Nice and dodgey.

“That’s totally exactly what I would say, kiddo. Get me a pen, pretty please?”

Trucy brightens at that, running off to grab one of her oh-so-sacred glitter gel pens.

Sitting there for just a moment in the silence, Kay thinks about this weird, wonderful little family that she’s found, and how it all comes back to that day in the courthouse when she first met Mr. Edgeworth. It’s been so long since then, it’s kind of crazy to think about how intertwined Kay has been with these people, albeit unknowingly, for so much of her life. Patting the old, faded cravat in her pocket, she thinks about how lucky she is to have made so many amazing friends.

When Trucy comes back, Kay signs the list with a flair befitting a Great Thief.

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

Cool, I'm down with both poodle Arezu and arctic fox Irida. Not sure about lizard Mai, if only because I'm not sure how that would affect Adaman's self-image issues. Although. Mai could be like, the Exception to him, because she's Good Luck in their culture, on top of being fast and blue and beautiful, and thus basically an ideal Diamond Clan embodiment. If she were pretty much any other kind of reptile he might feel different, but if they're the only two Diamond Clan reptiles around at that point and she's a lucky animal, then that'd make sense if he was able to keep his insecurities about being a bad fit for a leader and like maybe the Pearl Clan are onto something about reptiles having piss poor luck. It's just that now he has someone to compare himself to, and all he can see are the ways that he falls short. A mourning dove for Cogita is a smart idea, I like it a lot. Also, I was thinking about white dove Volo, and I found it even more fitting bc those are the birds they use in sleight of hand tricks.

If Irida could do it without killing him, the easiest way to make sure he was doing things like eating right and grooming himself and hopefully even calming down every once in a while, would be to drag him back to the settlement where he'd have people to help him. But she can't. At this point she knows the best thing for him would be for him to go back to wherever he came from, since he arrived in mostly good condition, but she has no way of doing that and is just trying her best. She'd be sad to see him go, but also extremely glad to know that he won't just waste away out in the mountains or get mauled to death or something.

I think it'd be hard for Melli not to notice, especially because he seems to take great care of his own appearance. Compared to Melli, Ingo kind of looks like a stuffed rabbit that was used vigorously as a chew toy until it was raggedy and most of the stuffing had leaked out. He's also one of the few people Melli sees on any regular basis, so whether he wants to or not, Melli's going to be Aware of him. Now as to if he'd help... I don't think he'd go, like, out of his way to help, but he wouldn't deny Ingo help either (though he might gloat while giving it lol). And yeah, I can see him nagging at Ingo to get his act together, that's probably how he shows he's worried and also he'd be legitimately annoyed if something completely preventable happened that then fell on Melli to take care of. The Great Melli is, of course, great art everything, but that doesn't mean he wants to be scraping Ingo's carcass off of the floor of Moonview Arena like he's roadkill just because Ingo didn't eat enough and passed out on the job. He can appreciate the theatrics of a good swoon, but this is taking it a bit far.

Yeah, Emmet is going to have so much work to do to help get them both back on track once he finally gets Ingo back. Because somehow I don't think Ingo is going to be especially helpful. Even if the rift damage was magically fixed and he suddenly got all his memories back (which, let's be real, is unlikely), he'd still have years worth of habitually not taking good care of himself and ignoring things until they boiled over. He'd probably just be getting overwhelmed way easier, while still not doing a lot of the things that would actually help because he's too stressed out, in an environment he's not used to anymore, and it's hard to get back into habits you've long since fallen out of. So Emmet is unfortunately going to having to do some of the heavy lifting for a bit until Ingo can start self-regulating again. Which isn't going to be great for his stress levels, but on the plus side he has the other half of his buddy system back which his instincts appreciate, he no longer has to worry about where Ingo is and miss him, and in general he's just got way more in his reserves than Ingo, who at this point is running on fumes. I assume Emmet has some form of support system too, to help him.

HMM all very good points about mai. the idea of her being considered a lucky animal is very fun, too. i do like the diamond clan having more than one prominent lizard—since the mirelands are probably the warmest climate it would make sense for them to have the most reptiles i think. ...which brings to mind an interesting interaction with ingo, actually, because if they have a lot of cold-blooded or heat-and-humidity-adapted clan members and the rest of hisui is comparatively cold and arid, they would probably know the most about how to adjust to changing climates if the body isn't doing it. once they realize that's like, a major concern, melli might very (very) begrudgingly share some of that knowledge with him.

meanwhile irida... physical distance might not be seen as a punishment but i wonder if being confined to a single region isn't. especially for someone who's a warden, servant to sinnoh's blessed. all of vast hisui created for pokemon and humans, and he can't safely visit like half of it? and irida in particular would be the most hurt by it i think. since they still don't know why he arrived here, but she accepted him, made him warden, he's her friend and confidant, served the clan so dutifully and almighty sinnoh, can't you see you're killing him. what did he do to deserve this?

...honestly a lot of this talk could be applied to canon as well. it's just that specific circumstances make it Worse (or more visible as the case may be)

[ninjasmart]

Hi ninja, will you do a reading about Natalia Grosvenor? How is she feeling at the moment? Is she ill? She didn't look very well at the wedding 💒💍

When I saw all those wrinkles I got concerned too. In general, as a non-sucky human being. I do believe something upset her on that day and it's likely something that has been making her blood boil multiple times in order for this impecable high status woman to wear her displeasure on her face.

Anyway, I pulled cards for both - how she feels and how her health is. About how she feels there is one card that I cannot get the meaning of it - the King of Swords. It often comes as police, investigators, someone with authority to say what's going to happen. It came as hidden card. Something she herself is not aware of. Maybe someone is gathering information for her and it's still ongoing. I don't know.

The rest of the cards are very positive. She has a good intuition about whatever it is she had put her mind into. Her instincts were right whatever that may mean (High Priestess). She is all about family and the tight knit family. I don't know if they have dogs but the 10 of pentacles shows 2 dogs and I believe dogs can bring good energy. In her case - a black cat would do it too. There is also the strength card - finaly taming her stong willed boy and being happy about it (I have no idea where these snarky comments come from within her akasha but boy, just typing it I feel bad) . All in all she is focused on family and that makes her happy.

I pulled a card for O and what she thinks of her. It was 3 of cups reversed. Something about the wedding that O or her family did displeased her. However, whe blames it on O. However, that is not what had her upset. 3 of pentacles reversed indicates that.

Now, the health. I'll start with the things that she already knows but it is worth it to raise that warning because she's ignoring her health. 9 of swords reversed talks about refusal to worry about health. Although it is a good card to have this is nowhere near close to what taking care of own's self and health means.

The tower reversed is talking about neglecting symptoms of possible issues. One that was quite clear was the wrinkles on the face. A collagen diet is nasty for people outside the asian culture but it's effective. There are other things that she can do to keep those wrinkles at bay.

I do get the feeling that there are other symptoms she is not paying attention to. The next card in the pack was 7 of cups reversed. Whatever those symptoms are - it is not unknown what they are and what they mean.

For example - people with low iron tend to be tired l the time, have feel dizzy sometimes, won't eat all day simply because they don't crave anything. People who don't know the signs may feel like - whatever, I'm getting old. But people who know them will recognize that they need to take action as soon as more than one comes up.

The last card for her health is 7 of pentacles in reverse. This is the true warning. He habits from the past are catching up with her and the window to do something about it so that she can be strategic with her health is not so big.

Now - those habits may be even something people usually don't consider bad but it is in the long term. For example - not drinking tea, not doing exercise (pilates is good for the health at any age), not walking enough.

Her focus is on her family and that is understandable. At the same time - as integral part of that family her self-care would benefit in being more in focus. Some new habits need to be created so that she enjoys more years with her family.

[somnambulants]

hi!! i was just wondering if i could request more yelena where yelena introduces her gf to natasha and her family and she’s uncharacteristically nervous so nat finds it amusing? thank you :)

a bit of minor surgery

summary: Yelena tries to keep you to herself but her family has other ideas word count: 1.7K notes: so this is a little different to what you asked for but i hope you still like it! for the sake of this, nat, yelena, alexei and melina are just one happy family 

“But if we –"

Natasha holds up a hand and Yelena stops talking. “Do you hear that?”

It’s faint but there’s the sound of someone moving around on her apartment floor. Being the only person who lives on this floor and one of the few in this building is enough for this to raise the hairs on the back of her neck.

Survival for them has always meant constant vigilance.

Both of their heads swivel towards the front door as the footsteps become louder, very clearly approaching her apartment.

Yelena doesn’t have to look to know Natasha is mirroring her, pulling out her gun and scanning every entry-way for possible intruders.

On edge, Yelena presses herself against the door, readying herself until she listens properly and realises the approaching footsteps sound familiar. 

Somehow, she feels herself relax and become even more tense at the same time.

“Stop,” she says as Natasha moves towards the door as well, holding an arm out to stop her. “It’s okay. I know who it is.”

At her words Natasha relaxes, putting her gun away but she watches her face carefully as she does so.

The panic Yelena can feel building inside her must not be as well hidden as she thought because a slow grin spreads across her face as the sound of a gentle knock echoes through Yelena’s apartment.

“Is it..?”

“Yes,” Yelena replies curtly. “And no. You can’t meet them.”

Natasha gives her a wicked look, clicking her teeth together teasingly. “What? Scared I’ll…eat them?”

She snickers as Yelena reaches out and shoves her hard enough to knock the air out of her while also giving her a firm and clear: im going to kill you if you don't listen to me look as she goes to open the door.

Not that it's ever stopped Natasha before.

“Just stay there,” Yelena hisses and then wrenches the door open, finding you behind it with your hand still mid-air, prepared to knock a second time.

“Y/N!”

“Hi,” you say, looking a little startled but smiling at her none the less as you drop your hand.

Beside her and thankfully, just out of your view, Natasha, to her credit, is silent but Yelena can feel her gaze glued to her face and can especially feel the amusement radiating off her in waves.

She grits her teeth, forcing a smile. Your own fades a little as you take her in. “Is this a bad time?”

“No,” Yelena says quickly. Still out of sight, Natasha lets out a huff of laughter just quiet enough that she hopes she’s the only one that hears her.

“Not at all,” she adds, and since the door covers most of her body, it’s safe for her to reach out and pinch Natasha on the arm. Which is what she does. Hard. “Just --give me a second?”

Clearly still puzzled, you nod and Yelena closes the door, giving you a smile that she has a feeling looks more like a grimace.

Next she grabs Natasha by the arm and starts walking her forcibly towards the window. “Out.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow as she pulls them to an abrupt stop, looking at her then looking out the window. “You seriously want me to scale ten stories because you’re an idiot?”

As an answer, Yelena unlocks the latch and lets the window sweep open, giving her a pointed look that says: Yes. Obviously. 

Natasha rolls her eyes but to Yelena’s relief, she slides out the window.

“неудачник,” is all she says in parting before she disappears, dropping down the stairwell and vanishing from sight completely.

The word lingers in the air after her: Loser.

Yelena scowls after her for a second before she rushes back to the door and opens it, letting out a sigh of relief when she sees you’re still there, standing in the same spot.

“Sorry,” she apologises, swinging the door open. “There was just a uh, complication....a spider. I caught it and put it outside. I know you hate them.”

As she speaks, you slowly raise one eyebrow at her. The other quickly follows and it's then that she notices the narrowed look in your eyes.

When you start speaking, your voice is low and scarily calm. “So it has nothing to do with the woman I just made eye contact with as she was climbing down your fire escape?”

Something Yelena is proud to say is that in her life there have been very few times she’s been at a loss for words. 

This however is one of them.

She stares at you, blankly, knowing her panic must be showing on her face by the way your expression progressively becomes darker and darker as seconds pass and she fumbles frantically for something to say.

“I, uh, she is, she, uh –”

“—Natasha Romanoff. Nice to meet you.”

To her credit, Natasha has always been the stealthier of the two of them. Ignoring that fact, Yelena chooses to believe that her being distracted by you is why she doesn’t hear her coming back up the stairwell.

She also chooses to believe that she didn’t visibly jump at the sound of her voice and that the cough Natasha lets out is genuine and not covering up a laugh that says she’s going to mock her mercilessly for this entire thing later.

Of course, Yelena can’t fool herself but she tries anyway.

You look even more unimpressed as Natasha comes to a stop beside her and it clicks in Yelena’s head that you think her and Natasha – her and Natasha. She can’t even finish the thought.

As funny as it is, she doesn’t let herself laugh, knowing instinctively that it’s not a good idea. The flinty look in your eyes just confirms how much of a not good idea that is.

Just because you weren’t raised like her doesn’t mean that you couldn’t pack a punch; something she learned early on in your relationship when she’d accidentally snuck up on you once. She’d had a black eye for weeks after that.

“Natasha is my --” she isn’t sure how to say: ‘this is the woman I was trained to kill people with while we grew up being tortured and experimented on, remember I told you?’ In a way that won’t make you go running for the hills.

As she trails off, Natasha, sensing her panic, jumps in. Yelena knows that internally, she must be laughing hysterically though to her merit, she keeps it to herself. “I’m her… sister. Of sorts.”

You know about her past – all of what she was willing to repeat of it anyway – so comprehension quickly dawns on your face.

“Then why…?”

She watches as Natasha’s mouth twitches, sounding amused as she directly addresses you: “Well... my sister is an idiot. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

Yelena tenses as you give her a once over, raking your eyes over her consideringly, before you turn back to Natasha.  “I may have noticed that. Yes.”

"Hey," Yelena protests, weakly. "That's not fair."

You give her a pointed look and she falls silent. Resigned to her fate, she lets out a sigh.

She can tell from the matching scheming looks brewing in both your own and Natasha’s eyes that this is only going to be the start of her own personal torment.

--

The one thing she really, really hates about her family is that they have this habit of showing up unannounced – you’d think that the whole being assassins and consequently, a little trigger happy as a result would make someone call ahead but no.

Never.

For this reason, it comes as no surprise when there’s the familiar three tap repetitive secret knock knock knock they had all come up with years ago on her front door early the following morning.

Silently, Yelena prays you don’t hear it and stay asleep as she drags herself out of bed and prepares herself for what she’s about to deal with.

Truthfully, she’s a little surprised that they’d had enough tact to wait until morning. She’d half expected them to be knocking her door down the second Natasha relayed last nights events to them. 

Yanking the door open, she comes face-to-face with Alexei and Melina. Taking them both in and cataloguing mentally that they look alive and uninjured, she lets herself glare at both of them.

“Is something wrong?”

They both frown. “No?”

“Okay I’m closing the door then.”

She starts to swing it shut but it’s quickly caught as Alexei shoves a foot in between it and the doorframe, giving her a reproachful look.

“Is your –”

“Yes,” Yelena interrupts, scowling harder than before, if that was even possible. “Now, leave.”

The look on Alexei’s face shifts, now suddenly a little too much on the wrong side of sneaky. “Can we—”

“No.”

“But–"

“I don’t care. You can’t meet them,” she barks, probably too loudly, as she shoves him back out into the hallway. If she has to throw them bodily out of here, she will. It just would likely attract your attention, which is the opposite of what she wants. “They’re asleep.”

“We can wake them,” he suggests, unhelpfully.

Yelena glares at him harder. “No.”

It’s faint but all of a sudden, she can hear the sound of a door squeaking as it opens. Her bedroom door to be more exact. Your voice calling out to her quickly follows.

“Okay,” she says. “I’m closing the door now.”

“Hey, no wait –” Alexei starts to protest. Yelena closes the door firmly in their faces and is working on dead-bolting it just as you appear in her line of sight.

You blink at her blearily, wearing just one of her T-shirts and nothing else. Thank god she hadn’t let them in. “Who was that?”

“Neighbours,” Yelena lies. “Looking for their …cat.”

Still half asleep, you don’t think to question her and she sags against the door in relief as you venture into the kitchen in search of coffee.

To her relief, there are no subsequent persistent knocks or calls through the door and after a second, she can hear the quiet sound of footsteps and Alexei’s grumbling as they retreat.

Natasha is one thing – their parents or pseudo-parents or whatever they are – are another thing entirely. She’d save that one for another day.

Or never, preferably.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Oya? Miss Raven I must say, I’m quite perplexed with the sudden change in scrutiny towards Leona-san. I’m a bit displeased with how the attention on someone such as myself has shifted rather quickly towards a mere lion of all beings. I must ask if the attention I’ve been given you isn’t enough to satify your needs…*sob*

WTF 🙃 Why are roleplays returning to my inbox—

*Miss Raven artwork is by shimmeryspark!*

The Writing Raven Roosts.

“You must be mistaken,” Raven scoffed, replacing a book on its shelf. “I’m scrutinizing Leona-san the same as I ever have.

“If anything, I’m scrutinizing him harder than ever before. You never know what kinds of trouble a wildcat of his size can stir up—and I should know! I’ve experienced it firsthand myself. One can never be too cautious in dealing with danger.”

She chose to omit addressing his actual question. To do so might as well have been handing over the keys to her heart.

Of course you’re enough. You’re everything I’ve ever needed and more—so please don’t be sad. Even if that sadness is a facade, even if that sadness is fake... I want you to always be happy.

Her stomach fluttered to contain it all within herself.

“It appears that danger has a habit of finding you, regardless of how you try to avoid it.” Jade smiled, though it didn’t entirely meet his eyes.

“You don’t say.” Her voice was exasperated. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to be on such high alert if danger just behaved itself.”

He looked down at Raven through thick lashes, which were heavy and glittered from eyedrops tears. “Ah, and therein lies the crux of this dilemma. Spending so much of your time and energy fretting over Leona-san... It is rather concerning. Do you not find myself to be an individual worth worrying over?”

“... You’re a whole different ballpark of worries,” Raven grumbled under her breath, “but I only have so many eyes and ears, and my attention is limited.”

“Then please,” he advised softly, leaning down to force her to meet his gaze, “direct it all to the correct person.”

Her cheeks flushed at what his words implied, at how close Jade was. Raven instinctively took a step back—but she hit a bookshelf, causing both herself and the books to shudder. The dust and the pages may have easily settled back into place, but her trembling heart did not.

“Wh-What are you saying?”

Hands slammed against the bookshelf, caging the bird between a wall of stories and a moray eel.

“I believe you know very well what I am getting at, Miss Raven,” Jade purred, running a gloved finger along the outline of her jaw. “You are aware of what happens to those who betray me, yes? It would do you good to not stray from the path.”

She gulped.

How much of a bad idea would it be to kick him in the kneecaps and make a run for it while he’s temporarily stunned? she wondered.

The bookshelf suddenly thumped against her back. A groggy, irritated voice called out from the other side. "... Oi. Whoever’s back there, shut your damn traps. Some of us are trying to sleep here.”

Raven froze.

“My, it seems we have an uninvited guest,” Jade murmured, his final word coated in honied venom.

A pair of lion ears--attached to a scowling young man--emerged from the next row over. As per usual, Leona’s long, chocolate mane was unkempt, and he hadn’t bothered to properly button his undershirt at all. Still, he wore a smirk and radiated an aura that implied that he owned the place.

“If you don’t pipe down, then I’ll come over there and make you--” Leona stopped midsentence, his eyes narrowing into suspicious slivers of emerald. “... Canary.”

Without a word, she shuffled to hide herself behind Jade.

“Oya.”

“You don’t perceive anything,” she stated in a deadpan tone.

“I see one cowardly Canary and one slimy, silver-tongued eel,” Leona continued, ignoring her. “You two are a sight for sore eyes.”

“How kind of you to say.” Jade stayed firmly rooted in place, sharpening his teeth and his smile.

“Hmph.” Leona folded his arms and leaned against a bookshelf, blocking off Raven’s route of escape. “What would our dear old headmaster think, seeing his golden girl fooling around with seafood in this sacred space for learning?”

Raven peeked out, glaring at Leona. “I-I was doing no such thing! Tell him, Jade!”

The eel’s lips were pursed in a smirk--and he made no move to explain the situation, nor to defend her.

“... Jade?” Raven hesitantly tugged on his blazer. “Um, J-Jade...!?”

Leona snorted in disbelief. “I know when I’m interrupting something. By all means, don’t stop on my account. I’m out of here. There are better places to nap than love nests like this.”

He pushed off of the bookshelf and turned away. The motion was so fast, so abrupt, that his tail cracked like a whip when it hit his leg. Hands shoved into his pocket, Leona sauntered out of the library with a storm cloud brewing over his head.

“W-Wait! I’m telling you, you’ve got the wrong idea, Leona-san...! P-Please don’t tell Uncle!!” Raven made to step toward him—

—but Jade blocked her path with an arm.

“Miss Raven,” he said carefully, “I would advise that you do not go chasing after danger. Not after all of my efforts to steer you clear of it.”

“It would be far too charitable to call what you’ve offered me protection.”

“Fufu. Call it what you may, but I have done what I can to keep you safe from the feral beasts that prowl the land.”

And, more importantly, I have your attention on me once more.

[yesimwriting]

The Promise of Rain, blurb 2

The Promise of Rain (part 2?? technically) 

A/n I was not originally planning a second part for this but some people wanted it and this idea came to me and it works better with the context of ‘The Promise of Rain’ but it can technically be read as a stand alone :))

Anyways this might turn into a small series of kinda connected blurbs that are all kind of canon with each other but aren’t necessarily connected except for the reader’s background (the reader is a very sunshine-y person and knows Kaz bc she’s a runaway princess that he was hired to bring back home but she managed to convince him to let her work for him instead)

--

The night air had left me with a chill that made me want nothing more than to have my covers draped over me as I read. I’m normally more sociable after a job, especially after such a simple and safe ending, but a lot of tonight had left me wanting to be alone. 

Well, not truly alone. The company of my books is always welcomed, but tonight I can’t seem to find much comfort within the pages. After almost every paragraph, I find myself distracted by gusts of wind and thoughts of the heavy, silver clouds that seem to make up tonight. A part of me longs for the rain. I know it’s ridiculous to expect rain each time I desire some sense of comfort, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want it. Especially when the sky so clearly implies it. 

“This must be the fifth time I’ve come here and you’ve been reading.” Kaz’s sudden appearance is almost enough to shake away my lingering somberness. 

I roll my eyes slightly, turning my attention back to the page in front of me. “That observation is just a testament to how often you come in here.” 

His glare is half hearted, a look I’d find endearing if I was less annoyed. “Where else am I going to find a reminder that good people exist in Ketterdam?” 

I think he may have a sixth sense that warns him when I’m treading the line between being annoyed and displeased. Everytime I find myself mad at him in a way that makes me want to avoid him instead of yell at him, Kaz makes some ridiculously heart-melting comment. He steps further into the room. I don’t miss the way he eyes my stretched out legs. Ever since the conversation we had after he woke up after an injury, we’ve fallen into the unmentioned habit of silently inviting the other to stay by moving to make room for them. 

It had started the day after the conversation in which Kaz had admitted that he wanted me to stay with him. He had been sitting on the small couch while discussing the details of a job. Shortly after I walked in he made a point of shifting so that he was clearly on one side of the couch. I didn’t think much about sitting down, but Inej and Jesper exchanged a look. 

Now, though, I keep my legs stretched out on the bed. He eyes my position on the bed, something grim crossing his features. 

“It might rain tonight.” 

He knows me so damn well. I hate it. “I hope so.”

I turn my head, analyzing the way the world seems to be on the cusp of something. I stare at the silver clouds until I feel something hard tap my leg. The tap is firm but not painful. I’m quick to look at Kaz as he lowers his cane. The mention of rain had been a distraction. 

“You distracted me on purpose.” 

“The first rule of the Barrel is to always be prepared.” There’s a slight uptilt to his lips, something I’ve learned to interpret as a sign of teasing. 

How is he so easy to be around one second and so cold the next? I resist a smile. “I’ll take notes.” 

Kaz ignores my passive aggressive tone. His focus seems to be on my legs that have still not moved to offer him a place next to me. “You wear your emotions too openly.” Great, he’s going to make us talk about it. “What reason could you possibly have to be mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you.” It’s a partial truth. 

His expression harshens. “Don’t lie.” 

“I’m not thrilled with you, but I don’t think that’s the same as being mad.” 

Kaz lets out a partial sigh. “No, they’re not the same.” Such an early concession feels like a trap. “With you, the first option is worse.” I don’t have anything to say to that. “Is this because of what I said to Jesper?” 

My posture straightens on instinct. “He wants your validation more than he’d ever admit and I understand that expressing praise isn’t exactly something you do, but would it kill you to not actively insult him?” 

“I didn’t say anything that was wrong. He thinks he’s a gambler but he’s just someone born for losses.” The look I give him must mean something to him, because Kaz is quick to tact on, “That doesn’t make him less valuable of an asset or less relatively dependable.” 

I eye him cautiously, the slightest bit of vulnerability playing at his features. “Don’t look at me like that--and don’t tell me that. Jesper’s the one who could use the occasional reminder from you that you hold him to any regard with positive connotations.” His lips press together like he’s thinking about scolding me for scolding him. “It’s only because I know you care more about Jesper than you’d ever let on.” 

“Jesper’s esteem can handle the blow.” The curtness of his voice is a blow in its own sense. “And he didn’t exactly deserve to be in my good graces after what he did tonight.” 

My sigh is not weighted enough to match Kaz’s newfound fountain of emotion. “We were successful--”

“He left you.” I didn’t know Kaz’s voice was capable of such harshness. “I paired him with you, and he left you--and you almost didn’t make it.” I let the weight of his words take up all the available space in the room, keeping the silence that follows them until some of the heaviness has dissipated. “He could have cost me one of my best people.”

Oh. His harshness, his unwarranted coldness, had been a manifestation of his concern. For me. Guilt knots my stomach. Potential words that may offer Kaz some sort of support raise and die back down in my throat. Kaz turns towards the door. 

“Kaz.” He pauses. There’s a long moment in which I think he won’t turn around, but finally, he does. I tuck my legs beneath me, forcing myself to sit up a little straighter. “I told Jesper to leave because I knew the job would have failed if he had been trapped in that room with me.” I drop my gaze towards the window. “I was right, the job was successful, and I got out in time so it was worth it.”

“You risked your safety?” The harsh facet of his being is making its return in full force. 

“For the job,” I’m careful to keep my words factual, “It’s what we’re supposed to do.”

Kaz’s jaw locks. “When I said that keeping you near me would ruin you this is what I meant.” 

Is it really this big of a deal? I made it out. “Kaz.”

“This wasn’t my best idea.” His words are leached of anything. “You’re going back home. Tomorrow I’ll arrange the voyage myse--” 

“Kaz Brekker you may get to live your life doing anything you want but you don’t get to control mine.” My chin raises an inch, an instinctual act of subtle rebellion. “I am not going back there, even if I’m technically indebted to you because you didn’t return me to my father but that does not mean I’ll--”

“I’m not trying to control you.” His words are sharp, boarding on a yell. “A job like that one wasn’t worth you.” 

From Kaz, I know those words are heavy. There’s a lot of things I could say to that. I could tell him that I wanted to do something for him. I could say that I appreciate him telling me that. I could even say that in his own way, Kaz giving Jesper a hard time because he left me, is kind of cute in a misguided way. The thing is I think all of these responses will make things worse. 

“Kaz,” I keep my voice as steady as possible, “I’m fine, you’re fine, it all worked out.” Scratching the back of my arm, I exhale gently. “I’ll be more careful next time, I promise.” 

I watch him carefully, there’s a slight slump to his shoulders as he exhales. Is the fight leaving him so easily? He walks further into the room. “You better.” He sits down in the space I provided for him slowly. “If you’re not you’ll have worse things to worry about than anything that can happen to you on a job.” He moves his cane forward easily, tapping my knee in a swift motion. 

I roll my eyes at the mock threat. “They do say that there’s nothing to fear in the Barrel like the Dirtyhands.” 

“Remember that.” Any edge in his voice is forced. I fight against a smile that seems to always want to break across my face whenever I think I see something resembling lightness in Kaz. 

“I don’t think I could forget anything about you.” 

He turns his head slightly. “You should.” 

“Too bad.” 

Kaz leans his back against the wall, untensing slightly. “I think you just like disagreeing with me.” 

There’s no point in lying about it. “Only because when you argue with me you give me this really particular look.” 

“A look?” 

Adding insult to injury, I smile. “Sometimes you look like you’re too focused on being angry, like you’re compensating for something.” 

Kaz lets out a bitter sigh. “Maybe if you were less of a puppy I wouldn’t have to--”

The laugh that escapes is most definitely a mistake. “Did you just call me a puppy?” I don’t give him a chance to reply, laughter taking over again. “I mean this in the least argumentative way possible--but you’re so weird sometimes.” 

He rolls his eyes, tensing. “I’m leaving.”

I stifle the rest of my laughter. “No. I was--I was kidding!” I keep my eyes on Kaz, expecting some type of annoyed glare, but his expression is a lot more weighted than that. Odd. “Kaz?” 

“You need to be more careful.” I understand Kaz’s pause as something he does before saying something outside of his nature. “I’m not asking you this as a Crow or a Dreg.” 

On instinct, my posture straightens. “I promised and I meant it.” 

“Sometimes I wish I could believe in Saints,” his voice has taken off a distant quality, almost fragile, “That way I could believe something existed to help what matters.” 

Oh. “You never fail, even if I didn’t believe in Saints I’d believe in you.” 

“You’re wasting your faith.” The sound of lightning cracking is almost enough to make me jump. The rain finally came. 

I know I’ll never convince him that that’s not true. “I don’t think so, but that’s why it’s called faith.” 

“I have faith in some things.” His expression is far off. 

“Like what?” 

Kaz’s eyes find the window. “People that find meaning in the rain.” 

Something in my chest swells. “You’re like the rain.”

We sit there in silence, watching raindrops glide down the window. “What were you reading?” 

The question has me dropping my gaze to the forgotten book on my lap. “I stole this book from the palace before I left. It was my mom’s favorite, she’s read it so much the spine’s completely cracked and the cover is practically falling off.” 

“Hm…” He mumbles. “Read some, the books read in a palace must be worthwhile.” 

A part of me wants to tell him that elitism has no place in literature, but his request leaves me frozen. I nod once, turning to the first page of the book. “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife--” 

“Your upbringing makes sense--” 

“You can’t judge it off the first sentence,” he’s insufferable, “It’s setting up irony, and if you’re going to complain--” 

He lets out a conceding sigh. “I’m listening, I’m not interrupting.” 

I keep my eyes on him for a second longer than I should. “Okay.” Dropping my gaze back to the book, I adjust my grip on the worn paperback, “Good.” 

And then I keep reading. 

--

@theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7 @lonelystarship @mentally-in-northern-italy @uhanddreag 

[sheyshocked]

Not the Best Place for a Love Confession

Summary: During an interview with a reporter who has a bad habit of saying the most offensive thing possible at the moment, Markus talks about his new budding relationship with Simon and teaches the public that just because he’s the respected leader of the revolution, his partner doesn’t have to be some fainting maiden waiting for him to come home. Simon’s reaction surprises him. Second day of Simarkus Week 2022, prompt Confession.

Ship: Simon/Markus (Detroit: Become Human)

Warnings: (Slightly) Sexist Language

Tags: Fluff, Public Love Confessions, Making Out, Markus Loves Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Switch Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Switch Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Interviews, Markus Being Sassy, Secret Relationship

Wordcount: 1,781

A/N: Look, it’s my event, my rules. And when I say I’m gonna post fics for Simarkus Week a month late, then so be it (anyone can do that, btw, so if you still wanna join, go crazy). Anyway, hope you enjoy reading!

You can also read it on ao3!

Only a few things were sure to make Markus’ blood boil in rage. Injustice was one of them. Ignorance the other. But pretentious interviews with reporters who couldn’t give a damn about their cause and were only looking for a sensation happened to be high on the list, too. The people there were as bad as the gabbers at the Museum of Modern Art, if not worse.

Unfortunately, just like those cocktail parties Carl used to despise so much, these events were a necessary evil from time to time, so Markus forced himself to smile as he answered questions that were borderline offensive.

The acceptance of androids as a new living species was still quite a novelty, and most people meant no harm, just didn’t know how to communicate with them after everything that happened. That’s why he was here. To make them see that they were no different from them. If only some of the remarks didn’t feel like they were pulling his teeth out! At least the reporter, Joyce, always made an effort to correct herself when he let her know what she was saying was getting out of hand. But still...

“So... there is word on the street that someone had managed to capture the heart of the famous deviant leader! Is there any truth to it?”

Markus froze in shock. How did they know? His eyes wandered in the general direction where he assumed his friends and Simon were waiting for him to finish the interview, keeping their fingers crossed for him. Sadly, the studio lights were shining right into his eyes, so he couldn’t make out their expressions. They were probably as shocked as he was.

“This is bullshit,” North stated via their wireless connection. “Don’t reply, Markus. They are just digging for dirt. What you do with Simon in privacy is no one's business.”

Josh was next to chime in. “For once, I have to agree. They should focus on the things that matter, not this.”

Although Markus agreed with them wholeheartedly, he was still waiting for the one person who had the biggest say in this. Simon. The thing between them was still too fragile, and he didn’t want to squander it by making him uncomfortable.

“What do you think I should say, Simon? I don’t want to keep you a secret, but I won’t put you in the spotlight if you don’t wish so.”

At first, he was met with silence on the other end. Simon was obviously as torn at this as him. Then he responded, voice wavering: “I don’t think it would do us any good at this point to give any names. Maybe keep the details? Other than that, I’m fine with whatever you decide would be the best.” He went silent for a moment, before admitting: “Don’t wanna keep you a secret too.”

Markus nodded out of instinct, before turning back at the reporter. Thank god their communication was fast as a bolt of lightning, otherwise, the awkward pause might get even worse. “I hope you do realize this is a very personal question, Joyce. But yes. You could say that.”

“Oooh, lucky them, then! There’s no shortage of people who would jump at the opportunity to date someone like you.”

Were they now? He didn’t know and, honestly, he did not care. They weren’t his beautiful, radiant Simon. “I’m sure there are some fans or admirers, and I appreciate the attention,” not really, “even though I think people should focus more on what I say rather than on how I look.” He glanced down at the ground, suddenly abashed, before he picked up where he ended. “Back during the revolution, there was no time for romance. We all fought to survive. Now I found what I’ve been missing and I’m happy. It’s a tremendous success that our kind can finally experience love without having to fear the reaction of people around us.”

The crowd, mostly present androids, cheered at that. He overheard even one loud “aww” from backstage. Joyce giggled. It was a weird cacophony of sounds. One he was still getting used to, months after giving speeches. “You sound smitten with that mysterious person! I’m sure our viewers are dying to know whether it was a human or another android who rocked your world.”

That gave him pause. Simon said to keep it as ambiguous as possible. “Android. Former domestic assistant. And that’s all I will say.”

There were dozens of models that were considered domestic, both male and female. Small chance they would immediately figure out it was a PL600 with sky blue eyes and a gentle smile. And if they did? Well, people speculate all the time. They didn’t have to confirm it. Or they could. It was up to them to decide whether they would make it official, once they got more comfortable with the situation.

“Ah, I see. So you swept them off their feet and now they keep the house warm while you are here, changing the world.”

What. The. Hell.

At first, he thought – hoped – he heard her wrong. But no. She did say that. His heart picked up speed and he could feel his cheeks heating up as he fought the urge to scream: Just because I’m the leader doesn’t mean my partner has to be some submissive, meek flower who stays at home and takes care of the household!

Out of instinct, his eyes wandered to where he thought Simon stood. He could imagine his sad expression as he took the insult and said nothing, keeping it all bottled up. No way. Markus can’t let this slide.

“We are no longer slaves of our programming, Joyce,” he had to try very hard to keep his voice calm. “We can choose to be anyone we want to be now, and my partner chose to fight for our cause side by side with me ever since the beginning. Never passes a day when I wouldn’t admire their dedication, strength, and voice of reason. So stop belittling their worth just because of their past.”

The whole studio went silent. Joyce in particular looked like she wished the ground would swallow her whole. Although she had a lot of makeup on, he could see her face was getting a radiant shade of red. Good. Maybe she will think next time before she spouts something like this.

Joyce apologized in the end, but it was clear as day she was no longer comfortable. As was he. He couldn’t wait for the interview to be over. But before he could say his goodbyes and leave, who knows what possessed him that he turned at Joyce and smirk, even adding a small wink just to drive the point across. “Oh, and just so you know – it was them who ‘swept me off my feet’, not the other way around.”

If there was one thing he was sure about, it was that Joyce never gonna invite him to the studio again. And he was fine with that. What worried him more was the way Simon stayed quiet the entire ride home, eyes glossy, and lips in a thin line. He tried asking him if he was all right (after all, he realized the ending, no matter how true, could have been a step way too far), but was always brushed off with a forced smile and whispered: “At home.”

Oh, rA9. He wasn’t gonna forgive him, was he? Did he accidentally screw up the best thing that ever happened to him?

When the door of Carl’s mansion closed behind them, he opened the mouth to apologize – perhaps he could still save what was left of their relationship – but was instantly silenced by Simon cornering him against the wall, during which he knocked over the coat hanger. Markus had never seen so much fire burning in his eyes before. It was a little intimidating. Not that he would ever let himself get intimidated by others. Not anymore.

He half expected him to start yelling at him for violating their privacy (it sounded out of character for such a soft-spoken man that Simon was, but on the second thought, he would also never foresee him pushing him with so much strength his back collided with the wall). What he didn’t see coming were the wet kisses that were suddenly peppered all over his face, lips, neck. Anywhere Simon could reach.

The surprised yelp that left Markus’ lips was anything but dignified, but there was currently no space for shame left in him. Everything was overtaken by the heat Simon was radiating. Hunger.

“Did you mean it? What you said at the interview?” he asked, voice sounding strangely breathless, even though androids didn’t require oxygen to function as his teeth ghosted over the copper nape of Markus’ neck. That was all warning he got before the same teeth gently sunk into his skin, nibbling on it to draw a moan out of Markus’ lips.

Somehow, he found his legs wrapped around his slim waist, and once the fog on his mind prevented him from thinking clearly withdrawn, he worried they might end tumbling onto the ground. After all, Simon wasn’t the strongest of androids and he was built to withstand even a hit by a truck. But then he felt Simon’s arms around his waist and bottom and knew he was secure. Safe.

So much for who’s “wearing the trousers in this relationship” right now, as Joyce would elegantly put it, and Markus’ rolled his eyes at the thought.

They often switched roles, one leading the other or submitting when they felt like it (or when one needed the comfort of arms wrapped tightly around him, taking care of every need and shielding him from the outside world that still wasn’t kind to them). It suited them better than having a dynamic set in stone. Like this, both would get what they required at the moment. But Simon was usually too reserved to initiate such contact, much less like this. His complete loss of control sent Markus straight on cloud nine.

“I did,” he breathed into his golden hair. He tried his hardest to keep up, repaying Simon’s passionate touches by showering him with love and affection neither of them knew before. “Every single word. You are my world, Si. I won’t let anyone ridicule you.”

Simon responded with a groan that rumbled from the depth of his chest (Markus could feel it against his body like a purr) before he resumed the venture of his lips across the planes of his copper skin, littered with countless freckles like stars.

Well. Seems like he said the right thing after all.

[tainted-wine]

The Spring Bird Survival Guide

Hawks x Reader (NSFW)

(So many of you have asked for a part two of my rutting Hawks fic. I gave in! I have no idea how this holds up compared to the first, but I hope you enjoy!)

Read Part 1 if you haven’t! This takes place directly after those events!

Words: 10k (WHOOPS)

Warnings: None, except for an absurd amount of scene transitions that hopefully don’t get too confusing.

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

Tuesday

The chorus of songbirds can be heard right outside of Hawks’s window, their small shapes dashing past and making the peeking sunlight flicker across the bedroom. It sounds like it’s gonna be a beautiful day. He’d be elated, if he wasn’t feeling so ill already.

The fever and itch were coming back, like a hot rash that he couldn’t scratch because it was inside of him. He was really hoping to never feel such a hellish sensation ever again.

He slowly peeled the thick sheets off, making sure not to disturb his bedmate as he sat up. There’s no way the quirk’s effects were returning, is there? Last night, the feeling had only gotten weaker with every passing hour. Now it has returned, not in full force, but once again difficult to ignore. He peered over his shoulder to check on his guest.

You were still sound asleep, worn body supported by pillows all over as if you were in danger of falling apart. While Hawks was healing that night, your aches had only gotten worse. He at least managed to convince you that you were in no condition to drive back home and the safer choice was to stay at his place. You were still wearing the clothes he gave you, while he himself donned only a cozy pair of pants. Such a shame that you didn’t take kindly to his request to sleep nude together. Seriously, what was even the issue? He’s already seen every inch of your body, and in every angle possible.

Every hot, sweaty, mouthwatering angle possible.

The internal fire suddenly rushed to his groin, making him slap a hand over his mouth to muffle a groan. He shouldn’t be around you in this state; might as well get up early and prepare for work.

The moment he was on his feet and stretching, a buzz was heard on the nightstand. Your phone vibrated against the smooth wood as it lit up and revealed the caller’s name.

Ah, the good ol’ deputy.

What that nagging old man wanted was between him and you. It wasn’t Hawks’s right to force himself between whatever matters the two of you had to discuss.

Those facts aren’t going to stop his nosy ass, however.

The phone was snatched from the stand without a second thought, the hero walking out of the room as quickly and quietly as possible before answering. “Mornin’, sir,” Hawks greeted. You were the only ‘superior’ he could toy with; any unruly behavior around the actual important people came with a high risk of punishment. Taking his frustrations out on you has been a blast, but after the bind you freed him from yesterday…

“Hawks? May I ask what you’re doing with your handler’s phone?” The deputy questioned.

‘I completely wrecked her last night. The poor lady didn’t survive.’ He considered the joke for a second, but decided that the stuffy bastard wouldn’t appreciate it. “She’s still snoozing. Yesterday was pretty rough on her. I think she deserves a little slack.”

“That’s not for you to decide,” he said sternly, like he was offended that Hawks dared to make a suggestion. Hell, he probably was. “Well, since you’re here, I suppose I can ask you directly. How are you feeling? Has the quirk worn off?”

His wings flapped and fanned himself. “Oh, so much better, sir! You guys have the best solutions to everything, don’t you? Never doubted you for a second.” Truthfully, if his moral compass was more stable, he’d say that offering an unsuspecting woman to him like some maiden sacrifice was just a little twisted. He can’t help but wonder if he would have refused if he was thinking straight at the time.

“Very good. So you are not feeling any lingering effects? Do your usual rutting symptoms feel stronger at all?”

“Eh…” Hawks hesitated. Should he bother trying to hide it? If there’s anything he’s learned from his mentally taxing undercover work, it’s that half-truths are often the best answer. “Feels like it’s still floating around in me, but nothing to worry about. It won’t be getting in the way of my work.”

“That’s great to hear. We don’t want you hurting your image with any more of your brutish displays in public. Please keep those special traits to yourself.”

That made his lip twitch. It really shouldn’t bother him. The Commission has always expressed their distaste for his more animalistic habits, but fuck, would it kill them to at least show some pity when it’s his very own instincts that are causing his suffering? “You got it, sir.” His calm response didn’t betray his irritation.

“And if you do start having issues, then I recommend that you turn to your handler again. In fact, I was calling to inform her that we have found a more competent individual to replace her.”

Oh. That’s…ouch.

“Really? I kinda like her,” Hawks admitted. It’s pretty awkward to be discussing your possible termination on your phone during a call that was meant for you.

The deputy gave a dry laugh. “Of course you do. She has absolute zero control over you. I was hoping you were mature and disciplined enough to not take advantage of her inexperience, but I suppose I was expecting too much of you.”

Yeah, he kinda was, honestly. No argument there. “So sorry, sir. I won’t let it happen again.” Maybe.

“You better make sure of it. As I was saying, we’ll keep her around in case you are in need of more relief. Once your hormones have stabilized, I will give her the news and you will be rid of her.”

Hawks actually snorted from just how fucked up that plan was.

The cruel man ignored the sound and went on. “Can I trust you to stay quiet about this? I’d rather not have to deal with any constant badgering for however long this goes on.”

‘Totally! There’s no need for her to know that she’s only being kept around to be my fucktoy and then get fired immediately afterwards.’ Man, what an organization that he works for. Too bad they have him whipped and incapable of defying them. “Your secret’s safe with me, sir.”

“Good. Well, this call didn’t go as planned, but it was satisfying enough. I’m expecting you to remain in top condition during your duties. Do not disappoint us.” He hung up without waiting for Hawks’s response.

The winged man didn’t even notice the perspiration quickly coating his body until the phone nearly slipped out of his slick hands. As he returned to his room and placed your device back where it was, he couldn’t help but watch your sleeping form.

You were always cute, he’s not gonna lie about that. Finding new ways to embarrass you on the job became a new type of thrill for him. Your blushful glares never got old.

But he never thought that he’d see you like this, or the state that you were in yesterday. His mind was barely there as he was shrouded in that prankster of a villain’s quirk, but he could still feel you all over his extra sensitive feathers. He was practically drowning in you at the time.

The smell of your arousal. The taste of the glaze on your pussy. The sweet songs of pleasure. The look of overwhelming bliss on your face.

Your soft skin, and your hot wet opening that he wanted to invade over and over again…

“Keigo?”

He doesn’t know when you woke up, or when the hell he crawled into the bed with his face so close to yours that he could feel your breath. “Uh…”

“Are you alright? You’re looking feverish again. And…” You looked down in concern, and Hawks followed your gaze to see the full erection that totally snuck up on him.

“Whoa! Sorry about that! Little guy doesn’t know when to quit.” Hawks scooted away, trying and failing to hide the tent in his pants.

You attempted to sit up, only to wince and settle back down. “Dammit, I can’t believe how much I’m hurting from yesterday. This is embarrassing.” You groaned and snuggled up to the many pillows.

He couldn’t resist planting a kiss on your forehead, ignoring how the brief contact made his hardness twitch. “Sorry, angel. Really wish I wasn’t such an animal back there. Just stay still; I’ll get you some fresh water for your painkillers.”

You look like you wanted to say something, but decided on closing your eyes and trying to relax instead. “Thanks.”

He was already rushing out of the room, heading into the kitchen to fill the empty glass while considering dowsing himself in the cold tap water.

Why, why the fuck was it coming back? Just looking at you was making his vision foggy again. It can’t be his rut; it never made him this excited before. He didn’t have the courage to return to the bed, alternatively placing the cup onto a hardened feather and floating it back to you. He stayed where he was, leaning against the sink and wiping at his face. The heat remained at a manageable level as long as he kept his distance from you, but he wanted to stay close. He had to stay close and protect the woman he was now mated to.

Wait, what?

“Keigo?” He heard you call out and was pulled from his confusing thoughts. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Hawks gave a laugh that didn’t sound all that convincing to his own ears. “Bad news, babe. I think I’m still a horny bird,” he confessed.

There was a pause. Maybe you had taken a sip. “I don’t know if they told you, but when the deputy explained your…situation, he said that the symptoms of your rut will probably be amplified until it’s over.”

Ah, the old man did mention that over the phone. He only had about a week of his yearly phase left, but if this all means intensified aggression and arousal, not to mention the attachment to the lady he just banged for several hours…

This was going to be a very difficult week.

“Babe?” He said just loud enough for you to hear.

“Yes?”

“…I really fucked up by not taking my meds, didn’t I?”

He didn’t exactly hear your sigh, but it was still felt through his wings. “I’m afraid you did.”

Yeah, this was all his fault. This bullshit would only be half as painful if he was still taking his stupid hormone medication like he has been for years. Not only do these unrestrained imbalances feel foreign to his body, but Libido’s quirk practically put them on steroids.

The medicine’s side effects don’t sound all that bad anymore.

—————

Hawks had already eaten a slice of leftover pizza by the time you finally mustered up the strength to get up. The feel of your entire lower body cramping made you whimper and stumble.

He was already scrambling back in to catch you and hold you up, his high body temperature startling you. “Thank you,” you said wearily.

He froze for a second before jumping back, the sudden loss of support almost making you fall anyway. He wordlessly strutted over to his wardrobe, withdrawing a fresh pair of underwear. 

You looked away when the pants were pulled down and his hardness sprang free. He’s not just going to ignore that, is he?

“Keigo, do you need to…do this…again?” You asked, tuning out the throb of your muscles.

He chuckled as he began to dress himself . “You are not up for more sex, baby. Don’t even act like it when you can barely stand.”

You huffed. “You’re getting really hot again and you shouldn’t go out feeling like th—”

“Nope.” His boner is covered again, somewhat. He stares at the obvious protrusion before shrugging and retrieving his hero outfit.

Even with your aches, you had the grit to push on. “As long as you go slow, I can probably handle it.”

“Mmmm, can’t promise that,” he murmured while momentarily detaching his wings in order to squeeze into his tight black shirt. “The second I’m inside you, I might lose control and shatter your pelvis.”

That’s horrifying, but… “I trust you.”

“I don’t trust me.”

“Keigo…”

“And don’t get too attached to that name, dove. Can’t have it slipping out in public.”

“I wouldn’t do that. I’m not stupid.”

“Could’ve fooled me, since you’ve offered me your tender pussy twice already. Do you want me to pound you into mush?”

“Language, Hawks!” You strictly reminded him, undeterred by your wobbly legs as you tried to remind him who was in charge.

Hawks shot you a look, his face crinkled into furrowed eyebrows and a crooked grin, a look that screamed ‘Seriously?’

“Listen, ma’am, wood happens. I’ve dealt with it plenty of times like any other guy, so I’m telling you that I don’t need to bang to get rid of this.” He pulled up his tan loose pants, the bulge not as obvious, but still visible. “But if you really insist on ordering me to fuck you silly, be my guest.”

You weren’t exactly going to do that, it’s just that Hawks was acting so unfazed by his strong arousal, but his body was very clearly telling a different story. His breathing was heavier than necessary, and every time after he made eye contact with you, it’s like he had to spend a minute to compose himself. However, if he’s confident that he can endure…

“Fine,” you sighed, watching him suit up with more interest than you cared to admit. You hobbled on out and into the kitchen.

“Need help, granny?” You heard him offer. “I can fly you to your place if your legs still aren’t working.”

“I’m fine,” you grumbled in annoyance at both him and your uncooperative limbs. The fridge was yanked open and you frowned at its contents. The pizza and chicken wings were the only real food he had, the rest being sugary snacks or microwave meals. Looks like ‘keeping a healthy diet’ will have to be added to your Hawks Maintenance list.

The flaps of wings were heard behind you as Hawks headed for the door, fully geared up and ready for hero work. “Welp, you’re a big girl that can handle yourself. Drive safely, babe. Can’t wait to hear what you have to nag me about at the office.”

“Hmph,” you gave a smirk of your own when you turned away from the humming microwave. “Probably about the next mistake you make for all of the internet to see.”

He waved dismissively and opened the door, the morning sun illuminating him with an enchanting glow. “Come on, have some faith in me. I’ll be careful.”

Crimson wings spread as he steps outside, but the door closes before you can watch him take off.

—————

Buzzfood.com

HAWKS SPORTS STIFFY ON THE JOB

Written by Yuki Burushito

Now, I know that I’ve been posting enough Hawks-related articles to last a year, but can you blame me with all the weird behavior he’s been exhibiting this month? You probably think that I have a boner for the guy, but let me tell you this: one of us has a boner, and it isn’t me.

Everyone’s favorite hawk was hiding a woodpecker in his pants today. The best part is that it apparently lasted hours, given that it was mentioned in several incidents throughout the day, but the clearest example was when he subdued a mugger at noon, which was filmed by a bystander and is already making the rounds across the web.

Yet another extreme apprehension from Hawks—though it doesn’t top the beating he gave to that frisky peacock—I sure didn’t expect the fast-working hero to swoop down on a fleeing thief and slam him into the ground. I’m certain that a few feathers would have done the job just fine. When the pinned mugger felt Hawks Jr. poking at his back, he lifted his busted face off the ground and screamed, “Is this shit turning you on?!”

While everyone is currently having a field day with that meme-able clip, the answer is most likely no. Hawks was hard before the mugging occurred. Since I’ll probably be writing about him again by...I don’t know, tomorrow, I’ll cut to the chase. You have probably heard the theories that Hawks is experiencing some sort of rut. 

Well, it’s time for me to come out and say that I fully support those theories. “But Mr. Burushito!” I hear you say. “If this is something as regular as a rut, how come he’s never acted this wild before?” My answer to that is: I have no idea. He’s still a rather young man; maybe whatever sexual cycles his body possesses have only started appearing recently.

Honestly, you can never be sure with mutant types. Their bodies never make any damn sense.

“I take offense to that last sentence.”

You didn’t react to Hawks’s comment as you both read the article on your phones. After seeing multiple images of ‘Hard Hawks’, as he’s been nicknamed, taken by several random civilians and shared on their social media accounts, you knew it was only a matter of time before these petty news sites decided to take a bite out of the fresh meat.

Maybe this was your fault for trusting the hormonal bird that was currently seated in front of you while you stood across his desk. The only reason you aren’t scolding him right now is because he already looks so damn miserable. He had removed his protective headphones and visor right after finishing his patrols. A desk fan was turned to its highest setting, blowing directly into the hero’s sweaty face as he tried his hardest to focus on the small screen in his hands. He hasn’t looked at you since you’ve entered the office, but distressed or not, there was a certain matter you had to discuss.

“The deputy apparently called me this morning,” you started, ready to see how he reacts.

You notice him tense for just a second as he continues to scroll through whatever it is he’s looking at.

“It says that I had taken the call, but I sure don’t remember that. What I do remember is that you were awake before me.” Your hands were on your hips, waiting for Hawks to answer to your unspoken accusation. “Well?”

He still stared down at his phone, but it didn’t seem like he was actually looking at anything, his mind elsewhere. “Yeah yeah, I talked to him,” he admitted groggily.

You’re more angered by the fact that the deputy never bothered to call you back, leaving you in the dark from whatever he and Hawks had discussed. “So, what did you two talk about? You know, during my call that was meant for me?”

Hawks finally laid his glassy eyes on you. The energy surrounding him was drastically different from this morning and it made you just a tad anxious. Your body truly didn’t feel up to it when you offered him more sex this morning, but you knew it would be better than him reverting to another delirious state. “In a nutshell, he wants us to keep fucking until I’m better.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “What? He didn’t think it was important to tell me about this?”

He leaned far back into his chair and smiled, beads of sweat trickling down his neck. “Guess not. But hey, you’re doing your job anyway, already serving yourself to me the minute you see a hard-on.”

You glared, considering storming out of the room and calling that asshole immediately. “I don’t appreciate him expecting me to be your personal whore.”

“I know, I know. He’s a real douche, isn’t he? How about we both blow off some steam?” He was already scooting out of his chair and making his way around the desk. “I’m just making one mistake after another. Shoulda just said yes to you this morning. Never pays to be a nice guy, does it?” His voice was sounding rougher with each word, like his throat was changing into a sandpaper tube as he stopped right in front of you.

You trembled, making the mistake of looking down and spotting the erection that was very much still present.

For the sake of your still-burning body, you might need some time to mentally prepare for this. “Alright…but before we leave, just let me—”

“Leave?” Two hands clasped onto your shoulders hard, holding you in place. The raptorial eyes held yours captive, stirring up a heat within you despite your unease. “We’re doing this right here, right now.”

“Wha-I-but-” Your stutters were ignored as he turned you to the desk and bent you over, your back muscles screaming in protest. All of his weight was pressing into you, his deprived cock pushing against your ass.

“And everyone’s already left for tonight, so it’s just you and me.” He’s eagerly yanking your pants down then does the same for his own. 

His fingers wasted no time in groping your sex, the swipes against your folds triggering a steady flow of slick arousal. There should be no one else in the building at this time, but your paranoia still makes you clap a hand over your mouth as you gasp from his sinful touches.

“Mmm, already getting wet for me?” He cooed behind you, his breath feeling like heat emanating from an open flame. “My brave little hen, willing to take as many poundings as she can.”

That’s a pet name you haven’t heard before. Teeth scrape across the space between your neck and shoulder while the head of his cock lubricates itself along your fleshy petals. When he pierces you with a strong jab of his hips, the light nips on your skin become a full-on bite, muffling his own cry. For you, however, the sharp sensation of being filled so suddenly combined with the pain of his teeth pinching into the crook of your neck had you wailing through your hand.

He was already setting a quick pace, giving your bitten area a few apologetic licks before leaning back to properly grip your hips and plow you. Your entire body was rocked forward with each impact, the harsh stroking of your inner walls bringing forth a raw pleasure that you admittedly missed.

But that wasn’t enough to ignore the resurging aches all over you. Your sensitive ass cheeks have become very familiar with slapping against his abdomen, every pleasurable collision also shooting pain up your lower back, and his probing dick was showing no mercy to your delicate insides.

“Haw—ah, Hawks! You need…you need to slow down!” You quavered.

The only response was a series of savage pants and growls as his violent movements continued, informing you that all of his sense and reasoning has disappeared once again. You remember the warning he gave you this morning, and fear that his quip about breaking your pelvis may have been more than just a joke.

You try to twist yourself just enough to see his face and speak to him more directly, but a hand on your back shoves you hard onto the desk, leaving your breasts and belly to scrape against the wooden surface. At least you weren’t fully stripped for this.

How the hell did this happen so fast? He was speaking just a minute ago! Do the after-effects of Libido’s quirk ruin Hawks’s mind that quickly the second his dick touches a pussy?

A moan was being ripped from your throat with every thrust as he upped the speed and force. He was showing no signs of stopping, and your thighs were beginning to cramp. The mixture of colorful pleasure and throbbing pains was making every inch of you shake. His fierce sounds were becoming distant—even with your legs on the verge of giving out and your back muscles crying, you welcomed the fog of bliss that was ready to carry you away.

Your poor legs finally crumpled like frail sticks, only for the frustrated animal behind you to lift your hips up until your entire body was on the desk, arms now dangling over the edge. There was only enough time to reposition your numbed limbs into a low doggy position before Hawks was climbing onto the desk himself, crouching over you and wasting no time in continuing his pummeling.

“Haw…ah…nngh…” Your feeble attempt to speak was quickly squandered. The new angle allowed him to easily strike your more sensitive spots, making your moans even louder. The desk jolted with each powerful jerk of his hips, the feral hero’s wings extending and flapping in sync with his thrusts, papers flying off the desk from the gusts of wind. Through all of the soreness and delightful trembles, you wondered what the current scene looked like to a spectator—the sight of this delirious bird beast, sounding a loud lustful tune of primal urges and carnal desires as he hysterically claimed you.

Your eyes roll back as the hot ripples in your core grow into pulsating waves, Hawks’s unwavering strokes prolonging the intoxicating climax as you quiver under him. You thought you heard a sound from the staggering desk—a snap—but your mind was too far gone at the moment to care.

Hawks tried desperately to keep pumping through your tightening walls, but your delicious grasp on him was draining his stamina. You were gripping the edge of his workspace for dear life, the orgasmic throbs still wracking your body as he rabbit fucked you, ready to fill your womb with the load that has been prepared since morning…

It all happened in slow motion...the sound of wood and metal breaking, the weightless feeling of falling...you had registered it all just a second too late. Your abused body dropped with the collapsing desk, Hawks’s weight crashing down on top of you while papers slowly floated toward the floor. Both of you laid there in agony, the chair somehow falling over and onto Hawks for added insult. A few groaned words revealed that the winged man was fully aware again.

“Augh, fuck…my balls.”

—————

Wednesday

“Here’s all of the completed paperwork, Hawks sir!”

Hawks beamed at the intern entering his office with a stack of papers. “Ah, thanks, Springer! You’re a real lifesaver, ya know that?”

The aspiring ‘Bouncing Hero’ hopped excitedly on his peculiar coiled legs as he handed over the documents. “Thank you, sir! I’m always here whenever I am needed.” He bowed respectfully. “Although, I just…forgive me for feeling the need to remind you, but please do not forget that I took this internship to do hero work, not to sort and fill papers.”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget,” Hawks assured him, taking the cursed heap of papers. You were usually the one that he shoves all of his office-related tasks on, but whenever you were preoccupied, he would pass the burden onto a trainee that was too starry-eyed to acknowledge that they were being used. Yes, he feels a little bad, but his hatred of reading endless forms was too strong for him to care much. “I gotta test your patience and comprehension first, then I’ll be taking you out into the field with me. You’re doing great!” He bullshitted with a smile.

Springer perked up at the words. “Of course! I’ll keep doing my best!” His eyes kept drifting to the large empty space in the room. “Sir, what happened to your desk?”

Hawks looked over at the open spot, feigning surprise as if noticing it for the first time. “Oh, right. I banged my handler on it ’til it broke.”

“…”

“…”

The teen searched the man’s eyes for several long seconds, looking for something, before bursting into boisterous laughter. Hawks joined in with his own chuckles.

“You’re very funny, sir! But I don’t think she would appreciate such a joke. Whatever happened, I hope you get a replacement soon!” He bowed again before walking—well, more like skipping out of the room.

Hawks’s smile didn’t fade when he was alone again, wondering where to place the heavy stack in his hands.

Sometimes the truth makes for the best lie.

—————

Pleasing Hawks when he was a drooling horndog was a challenging test of endurance, but at least it was simple and straightforward. All you gotta do is let him mount you and brace yourself.

But that option was currently out of the question. Your entire body was just too damn stiff and sore, every single movement feeling like the impaired motions of an unoiled tinman. Nevertheless, you still needed to get rid of Hawks’s brand new boner.

So here you were, back at his bed and kneeling on the floor, shyly licking at the swollen rod in your hands. You weren’t the most experienced at this, paying close attention to his noises and responses that came with every action from your fingers and tongue. Hawks was watching your performance with an agitated glare, which was just a tad troubling and added extra pressure.

You licked the prominent vein on the underside of his dick, tracing it up to his bulging head before taking him into the hot cavern of your mouth. He groaned through painfully clenched teeth; he seemed to be enjoying it, yet it looked like his frustration was only growing.

Not yet deterred, you began to suck at him, head bobbing up and down while your hand jerked the extra inches that you couldn’t take in. Your other hand gently held and caressed his enlarged sack, heavy and full of cum that refused to be freed into your mouth. His cock was twitching wildly in your throat, so he has to be close, right? Ignoring the burning in your back and….everything else, honestly, you placed all of your focus on engulfing as much of him as you could, tongue swirling all around him until he inevitably gives in.

But a hand grabs your head and yanks you off of him with a wet surprised gasp.

“Stop…stop…it’s just getting worse.” He choked in a broken voice, staring down at the impossibly hard and red erection.

You wiped off the saliva that had run down your chin. “Why won’t you cum?”

His thighs trembled from all of the unreleased tension; you rubbed them to hopefully calm him just a bit. “Fuck, I…it’s like I can’t do it unless I’m…dammit!” The sudden beat of his angry wings spooked you.

You drew a deep breath. You really weren’t up for this, but leaving him in this state would be too cruel. Not to mention it was putting him in a very sour mood. Hoisting yourself onto the bed (with a few pained whimpers), you faced away from him and lowered your upper body to rest your arms, your ass raised and ready for him.

“You know, Keigo,” you started casually, as if you weren’t laid out in such a compromising position. “When I took this job, I imagined the countless situations I could possibly end up in. I was afraid I’d get caught in the middle of some villainous scheme, like a hostage situation. My silly fangirl side imagined going on dates with my favorite hero. The list of scenarios went on and on.”

The man behind you didn’t say anything, so you kept going. “And yet, ‘presenting myself to Hawks so that he can hump me senseless’ was not on that never-ending list.

He gave an awkward laugh, still sounding as if his throat was constricted. “You don’t have to, babe. I can…I dunno…”

“Just fuck me already.”

Hawks said no more and took hold of your rear. “I’ll try to take it slow. I’ll try.”

He tried and failed. Once he penetrated you, he completely lost himself again. By the time he was satisfied, every fiber of your being was dimmed and immobilized. He helped you get tucked into bed that night.

—————

Thursday

“Please, sir. I’m quite concerned for my health. This would be easier if he was away from the excitement of his work.”

After mulling it over, you had decided to be the one to reach out to the deputy, since he didn’t seem interested in calling you again anytime soon. Your original plan was to brave through the fury of Hawks’s dick until this damn rut ended, just like the deputy intended without your say in the matter.

But when you had to visit the doctor for your pains today, and you walked out with a fucking crutch under your arm, you realized this was all a bit much.

At the moment, you were trying to negotiate for letting Hawks take at least a day or two away from work. The deputy didn’t seem convinced. “Hawks once managed to keep working for an entire day with a broken wing and no visits to the hospital, and you mean to tell me that he should rest just because he has the hormonal urges of a teenager?” His snobbish ass questioned.

“This is—!” You inhaled sharply through your nose, catching yourself and lowering your voice. “This is much stronger than that, sir. Without getting into detail, I have withstood some back-breaking nights.” You consider telling him about your recent hospital visit, but the remaining shreds of your pride wouldn’t allow you to share that. Even you didn’t want to believe that Hawks has literally fucked you until you couldn’t walk.

You heard him snort in your ear. Ugh. “Doesn’t sound like anything a steady dose of painkillers can’t fix,” he dismissed.

You gave up making him understand your suffering and tried something else. “Sir, Hawks has faithfully served the Commission since he was a child. He has become one of the most accomplished heroes this generation has ever seen. His skills and dedication have done nothing but help the Commission become a more positive icon all over Japan. Don’t you think such a loyal and hard-working hero deserves at least one day off?”

“No.”

Well, shit. “…Alright, um, thank you for taking the time to hear me. I’ll get back to my duties.”

“Yes, that would be great,” he said listlessly before hanging up.

What an asshole.

—————

“What happened?”

Hawks’s words carry a dangerous tone when he sees you enter his office with the help of your walking aid. It makes you pause.

Going by the sharp yet troubled look in his eyes, you could tell that the tone wasn’t directed at you. ‘Did someone hurt you?’  That’s what he was really asking. His concern always warmed you. “Nothing, I just…” You hate reminding yourself that this even happened. “The pains were getting really bad.”

It takes a minute for those words to sink in, then his eyes widen in some sort of amazement. “Oh.” A flurry of feathers fly off of his wings and form a small floating cushion in front of you. “There, have a seat. Don’t want you hurting anymore than you already do.”

You eye the levitating seat before approaching and lowering yourself onto it. It was like a soft yet firm pillow, and you didn’t miss how the feathers seemed to all shiver, red barbs shaking rapidly as you adjusted your rump.

“Thank you,” you said while resting the crutch onto your lap. Once you were comfortable, you looked at the hero and the brand new furniture between the both of you. “I like your new desk.”

“Thanks. This one is pure steel, much more durable.” He winked.

You return it with a roll of your eyes. “Wonderful. Anyhow, I want to discuss a local hero event coming in two weeks. Your presence would do well to—” you noticed that he was snickering, lips pursed in a strained effort not to fully laugh. “Did I say something funny?”

He shook his head while short amused breaths still escaped him. “I’m sorry, I know you’re hurting and all, but…” He was cackling now, hunching over the desk as he struggled to explain. “I can’t believe I put you in crutches!”

Your face burned with both embarrassment and anger at how hilarious he found the situation. “Hawks…”

He coughed and noisily cleared his throat. “Sorry, I promise to keep it in my pants from now on.” A mischievous grin was plastered on his face. “I mean, I don’t wanna put you in a wheelchair next!”

With a wheeze and happily flailing wings, Hawks keeled over onto the desk with his face buried in his arms, the laughs muffled but still going strong. You just watch with a frown, listening to his mumbled joke about how ‘once you go hawk, you won’t be able to walk’.

What an asshole.

—————

Saturday

Hawks was definitely getting better. You could tell with each passing day, taking mental notes on how he was having an easier time holding your gaze, or how he was able to stay close to you without growing in his pants. Thank god, because your body was still recovering. Another round of wild sex will only cripple you further.

That’s why the incident currently being reviewed on television was filling you with dread. You sat in the main room of Hawks’s house, the house that you practically lived in for nearly a week, watching coverage of the recent attack at the Fukuoka City Mall. The footage of various species of birds flying into the shopping center and swarming the unsuspecting civilians was almost comical, the colorful animals squawking loudly as they snatched every shiny valuable in sight.

A man with the head of a macaw, apparently going by the villain name of Parakill, stood at the center of the chaos, chirping excitedly as his fowl goons showered him in jewels and baubles. His robbery was cut short when small red blurs whizzed into the scene, pinning the criminal onto the floor and chasing around the army of birds until they surrendered their stolen goods. You weren’t prepared for the deafening chorus of tweets and shrieks when the winged hero stepped into the camera’s line of sight.

The restrained villain was cawing and screeching angrily, most likely commanding his birds. You couldn’t see Hawks’s face clearly due to the distance and quality, but you could still make out the intimidating glare as his wings slowly spread out into their full span, each individual feather looking slightly sharpened. Any bird that made a move was quickly poked with a red quill, each and every one of them eventually staying in place while uttering quiet submissive peeps. Parakill’s look of rage slowly morphed into one of fear. Once the danger was surely dealt with, Hawks called for any lingering citizens to leave the area while he retrieved the villain.

You were still in awe as the news switched to another story. Some sort of dominance was asserted there. You weren’t sure how, but it definitely happened. The worrying part was that tapping into his primal instincts like that has probably riled him up. Christ, he’s probably rushing over right now to fuck you into the mattress again.

Only about thirty minutes had passed when you hear the twist of the doorknob and the front door opening. You stand in anxious anticipation. How disheveled and hungry is he going to look? Is he going to jump you on sight?

But the Hawks that walks in is…composed, his face free of tension and layers of sweat as he spots you and offers a friendly smile. “Sup.”

You’re too stunned to give anything more than a “Hey” as he walks past you and heads for his room.

It’s a miracle. No sexual excitement after such a tense encounter with not only a villain, but another male bird mutant? Was he truly getting that much better? There wasn’t enough certainty to approach him while he was changing, so you stayed on the couch and stared at the large screen until he chose to come out on his own.

You were still channel surfing by the time he was strutting over in his loose and comfy clothes, plopping down onto the couch with a wing outstretched and tucking itself behind your back. You gulped—not sure what he had planned for you.

“Relax. You’re acting like I’m gonna eat you,” he teased, watching you flip through the TV’s guide.

“You’re not? I can’t be too sure after what happened today.” You turned to him, watching his keen golden eyes shift and meet yours. The gaze wasn’t glassy. It wasn’t predatory. “You really feel alright?”

“Haven’t felt this good in the past two weeks. It’s nice to be a civil human again.”

You relaxed a bit and shuffled in your seat, fully aware of how his wing was wrapped around your shoulder like an affectionate arm. “About the attack at the mall…” You began. “What exactly was happening there?”

“What, you mean what I did to the birds? Parakill was trying to sic them on me.” He straightened up with a grinning face that radiated pride. “So I rearranged the pecking order. His birds don’t answer to him anymore.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “You didn’t. You can do that?”

“Sure can! It’s not that hard. I mean, don’t think that I have a bunch of attack birds at my command now.  Animal control took them in to be relocated, not to mention some of them were illegal exotics.”

“Ah, that’s…impressive.”

“Heh, remember this, babe,” he leaned in until his lips were grazing your ear, his lowered voice and hot breath making you shudder. “I’m always the top bird.”

You shake off his flirting and try to keep your composure. “Right, of course. I’m just really glad that you’re getting better.”

His wing pulled you in for a tight hug that made you squeak. “All thanks to my sweet hen of a handler. Couldn’t have gotten through this without you.” He heard your pained grunts and instantly released you. “Whoops, sorry.”

You rolled your stiff shoulders and sighed. “It’s fine. You’re not the only one who’s getting better. Just do me a favor and try to forget that I was ever this sore from sex.”

Hawks laughed softly as he took your hands in his. The gesture surprised you after experiencing days of rough and impatient touches. “Hey,” he was almost whispering, forcing you to lean in closer to hear him. “It’s been a wild week. My mind’s been all over the place and I’ve put you through a lot. And…” He looked away with his brows pinched in a pained expression, troubled over something you didn’t know about. Before you could ask, his face drew closer, until your foreheads were pressed together. “Mind if I do one more thing with you?”

You were completely lost. You didn’t understand the sudden tenderness, his somber mood, or why he was talking with some sort of finality to his words.

“Let me take you to bed.”

The fuck?

“Keigo,” you leaned away from him, paying no mind to how you already missed his warm closeness. “I said I was getting better, but I’m not that much better.”

He shook his head, bringing your hands closer to his chest. “No, not like that. Just…I wanna do this properly with you for once. Some nice, regular sex. Hell, doesn’t even have to be full-on sex, I just want to…feel you.”

Your eyebrows raised. “Feel me?” You repeated.

He nodded eagerly with a big-ass smile. The normally cheeky young man was acting so genuine right now.

It was hard to say no to that.

“Alright.”

Hawks said no more, pulling you up on your feet and taking you to the room you both have shared for several nights. He was quick in removing your clothes, peeling each article off smoothly before doing the same to his own. The mood felt so different from your other intimate meetups that you couldn’t help but feel modest all over again.

Calloused hands were gently pushing you down onto your back, and you watch as the handsome man above opens up his wings, his eyes closed as if entering a trance.

“Whenever we fucked, I never felt like I was really there,” he recalled out loud, looking more relaxed than you’ve ever seen. “I could feel you, see you, hear you, but it’s like my body was moving on its own. I was in the backseat of my own head.”

With a deep inhale and exhale, he stared down at you with a look of desire, but not the savage kind. You’re not quite sure what it was…maybe the look of a lover.

Fingers traced your face, trailing down your cheek, brushing your lips, and skimming over your well-marked neck. “Now I finally get to feel you however I want.”

Your breath caught in your throat when his lips made contact with the flesh right over your pulse, planting a few light kisses before mouthing at your neck, the random swipe of a tongue making you gasp.

His open wings twitched in response at the small sound. He was trying to savor every single one of your reactions. That’s intense.

He was in no rush, mouth moving down slowly and stopping to observe the bruise near your shoulder. “Damn, I bit you hard. That’s…when we were in the office, right?” he asked.

You hummed and nodded. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t as painful as a fully grown man falling on top of me after ramming me through a desk.”

Hawks chuckled at the memory while rolling your breast around in his hands. “Man, that really crushed my nuts. I swear my voice was a pitch higher for the rest of the night.” He laughed into your tits, licking at the squishy mounds as he took in each of your shivers and moans.

“Maybe, but that was probably just from you crying about how you could no longer give me chicks.” Yeah, that was a weird time.

“Shh, that didn’t happen,” he denied.

“Yes, it did. I had to hold you as you sobbed.”

“Lies.”

“You were worse than I’ve ever been on my perio—ah!” A bite on your nipple silenced you.

Hawks shot you a playful glare, daring you to say more. When your mouth stayed shut, he gave a satisfied purr and sucked at the same perky bud, soothing the sting before moving on to the other.

You felt relaxed; this was all so much calmer than what you have gotten used to. While you won’t deny that his feral side was as pleasurable as it was tiring, at least you can finally take the time to breathe and soak up what he’s doing. Judging from his vibrating feathers, he probably felt the same.

He licked down your stomach while his hands ran down your sides until they reached the purple finger-shaped blemishes on your hips. He winced at the sight. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, ouch.”

He nurtured the marks with his mouth, careful not to apply too much pressure and cause any pain.

“You don’t have to be so delicate,” you hesitantly tell him. “The day you were under the quirk’s influence, you uh, you were doing the same to the bruises on my back…felt kind of good.”

His lips curved into a devilish smile. “Oh, so you like a little pain? My innocent little hen?”

“Shut up,” you said with a blush. “It’s your fault that I’ve felt everything but innocent lately.”

“True, true. I didn’t mean to open you up to the wonderful world of rough play.” His mouth closes around a bruise and sucks hard, shooting a sharp pleasurable burn that traveled straight down to your core. “Ooooh, I felt that.”

You can only whimper as he laps at the sensitive area, but part of you wants him to bring that scary jolt of pain again.

“I wanna know,” he says between licks. “Just how much did you enjoy me letting loose on you? How many times did we do it the first day?”

A few more kisses are laid on your hips before he continues his descent. Your breath quickens in nervous excitement when he nestles his head between your legs, face dangerously close to your hot sex.

“Come on, hen. At least give me a guess.” He turns to your thighs and showers them with timid pecks.

The sheets beneath you crinkle under your death grip. “Don’t know…lost count after the seventh time,” you admit through gritted teeth.

“Aww, what a shame,” his mouth wanders further inside your thigh. “Do you know how many times you came?”

“I don’t know. A lot.”

He bit into you and enjoyed the resulting yelp. “Mmmm, definitely a lot. Enough to knock you out. So sad that neither of us remember just how thoroughly I wrecked you.”

His naughty lips are just an inch away from your nether ones, your breath quickening in anticipation. Hawks looks up at you, most likely enjoying the view of your heaving chest. But he does well in reminding you how much of a bastard he is by switching to your other thigh, subjecting you to another round of kisses.

“Keigooo,” you whine pathetically, feeling your aches as your muscles tense from the teasing.

“Hold on, I’ve got more questions. What was your favorite position?”

“What?”

“Come on, you’ve got plenty to choose from,” he licks the sweat that was beginning to coat your skin.

Both your embarrassment and his tongue were making it very difficult to answer. You stammer over your words while his mouth moves inward, but once again, he stops at your mound.

“You really can’t think of one?” He gives you a ridiculously sad face—large puppy eyes and a puckered bottom lip—it would have looked more innocent if he wasn’t so close to your most private area.

You realize that he wasn’t going to take any further action until you gave him an answer. “I…when I’m on my hands and knees…” You swallow despite the dryness of your throat. “…and you’re on top of me…”

“Ah,” he sighs, and you feel his thumbs part your outer lips like a damp pair of curtains. He stares down at the pussy that he has battered more times than either of you can count, and yet it drips for him even now. The feel of a single finger running down your wetness makes your entire body jerk. “You like it when I mount you like a dog?”

“Yes,” you choke.

He blows on your quivering cunt. “What do you like about it so much?”

“I…you…I don’t…”

“Do you just love feeling like an animal too? Love it when a crazed horny guy humps you into the floor?” He finally indulges you with a long lick from your hole to your clit, and the hot muscle already has you moaning. “Is that it?”

“Ah…maybe…” You answer, and he rewards you with another lick. Listening to his questions was becoming a challenge.

“Hmm, would you love it if I fucked you until my bed gives out? You’re a pretty expensive girl to mess around with,” he jokes. He then dives in, sloppily making out with your folds that have been begging for more gentle attention for days.

Your head thrashes against the pillow. His licks and sucks were both pleasurable and soothing against your beaten pussy. You were finally freed from his powerful stare when he closed his eyes and fully concentrated on eating you out. He alternated between sucking loudly on your velvety folds and lapping at your opening, sometimes dipping his tongue inside so that he can feel your walls attempt to grab him.

The building pressure in your belly has become an old friend at this point, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t excited whenever it arrived and begged it to explode and bring you back to that lovely state of euphoria. Hawks’s mouth was moving more fervently as he drank in more of your juices, as if your nectar was intoxicating him. His deep moans rattled your insides while he smacked his wet lips against every inch of your womanhood, giving your swollen clit a smooch before sucking hard.

“Mm…oh god…Keigo, please…”

He growled with your bud still in his mouth, blinding you with the electrifying pleasure that was only enhanced by the sudden intrusion of two fingers in your throbbing cavern. The slow inner massage guided you to the top where stars burst in your vision, each orgasmic throb bringing forth a shameless moan. The stimulated wings fluttered from the overwhelming pleasure surrounding them, Hawks giving light licks and kisses until you were back down to earth.

“Fuck, that was good,” he said breathlessly, as if he was the one that just got sent to heaven. “You felt amazing, so nice and clear.” His wings finally folded behind his back as he straightened himself and wiped his glistening face.

You were ready to drift away into a happy slumber until you saw Hawks move to get off the bed and spotted the very familiar hardness that was bobbing with his movements. “Wait! You’re…” Your eyes dart from his face to his erection.

“Don’t worry about that; fapping works again!” he told you cheerfully before changing to a devious smirk. “What, did you wanna watch or something?”

“No,” you snapped a bit more loudly than intended. “I…want you inside of me.”

He froze.

“You sure?”

“Very.”

He crawled back between your legs—clearly trying not to look too eager—and was already aiming his cock at your opening. Your nod of approval was all he needed to push inside and damn, that was one hell of a face and moan he made.

You reflexively braced yourself for an immediate pounding, but the throbbing length just stayed there, twitching in response to every pulse from your surrounding walls. Hawks appeared absolutely fascinated by the sight of him sheathed inside of you before looking up to your face, eyes filled with a warm lust, not the unfocused kind that you have gotten used to.

He pulled out slowly and pushed back in at the same speed. “Ooooh, fuck, baby. So hot…so tight…” He murmured with a broken groan. The lazy thrusts allowed you to feel every inch of him stretch you, his veins rubbing against you for added texture and stimulation. Your hypersensitive pussy appreciated the easy pace, and even better, it was also working for the hero above you.

His hips gradually sped up overtime, but never into something rough and aggressive. It was more like a grind, his abs rippling with every deep push. His flushed face has gotten dangerously close to yours, allowing you to watch the pulsating pupils of his avian eyes.

The only time he ‘kissed’ you was on the first day, though a more appropriate description would be that he simply smashed his mouth against yours. Now, as you stared at his parted lips while hot breaths blew onto your face, you had a strong desire to finally give him a proper one.

Good thing Hawks was a damn mind reader, because he brought his lips down to yours right after you finished the thought. They were soft, softer than you expected from a guy that flew at high speeds all day. Then again, he was also a sex symbol that needed to take care of himself.

His mouth was clearly more skilled than yours, so you let him take the lead, lips molding perfectly against yours with playful licks. The added intimacy sped up his hips and raised his volume, his entire mouth engulfing yours as he moaned into you. Your tongue found his and engaged in a frantic dance. He’s tensing up; you give him some encouragement by wrapping your arms and legs around his sweaty form, giving the base of his wings a few rubs. Your mouths part to catch your breaths, a strand of saliva linking your tongues together

“Cum inside me, Keigo.”

“Oh fuck.” Your words have him pumping erratically into you, but you’ve dealt with worse. He buries his head into the crook of your neck, whimpering at your legs that keep him locked in place and urging him to release his creamy essence as deep inside you as possible.

His trembles are powerful, but even better were the cracked whines vibrating against your neck as he emptied himself into your womb. You never get tired of watching his wings lifelessly drop whenever he wears himself out. You cradle his spent body—it’s all so similar to the first time he took you, except this time he moves just a little to the side to relieve you of some of his weight. He doesn’t move you for another round, he just relaxes into your cuddles.

“Thanks,” he says softly, already close to dozing off.

You’re not sure what exactly he’s thanking you for, but it makes you smile anyway. “You’re welcome.”

A wing stretches over you as a blanket, the warm soft feathers doing well to pull you into dreamland as well. Hawks’s heavy breaths tell you that he was already out.

You close your eyes. It looks like you both managed to survive the worst rut of Hawks’s life. This sure as hell wasn’t what you signed up for, but looking back, it wasn’t that bad. Except for the crutch. The crutch never happened.

As sleep claimed you, you wondered what the future had in store for you and the winged hero.

—————

Monday

“I just got fired.”

Hawks flinched at the news, scratching at his back awkwardly. “Aww man, that’s…oof, what a shocker.”

For some reason, his surprise didn’t sound very real. But you were way too upset at the moment to question it further. “Well, I guess it’s more like a demotion. They’re still allowing me into a position I have more experience in. It’s probably back to desk work for me,” You sighed, pacing back and forth across the office in a desperate attempt to expel some of your anger. “But I can’t believe this. I can’t believe that he basically kept me around to be your fucking fleshlight, and then threw me away after you were satisfied!”

Hawks shrugged with an apologetic look. “It really sucks, babe. You can’t forget: the real studs are the Commission. No one fucks more people than them. A lot of us are a one-time use to those guys. I’m just lucky enough to have a longer expiration date than most. Or unlucky. I dunno.”

You didn’t either, honestly. Hawks deserved better. “They’re such assholes, yet here I am ready to keep working for them. I so badly want to say ‘fuck you’ and leave, but…” You trailed off.

Hawks finished your sentence with a smirk. “They pay too well?”

Your head lowers in shame. “Yeah.”

A wing pats you on the back as he laughs. “I’m not judging, angel. That’s probably what keeps most of the guys around.” He steps closer to you, gently taking your chin to tilt your head back up. “I’m gonna miss you though. Whoever they send to watch my ass next isn’t going to be half as fun as you.”

The comment warms you. You take his hand and pull it further up to your face, letting him cup your cheek. “Thanks, but I was pretty bad at the job. They would have kicked me down sooner or later.”

He came in closer. “True, you sucked. But you’re the first handler I got to know so well. Inside and outside.” His chuckle is hot against you before he locks his lips to yours. The kiss becomes more heated than expected—he’s tugging at your lip and thrusting his tongue in and out of your mouth in a way that makes your thighs press together. You tear yourself away from his face, breathless.

“Hawks…?”

His tongue slowly runs over his upper lip. Goddamn. “Sorry, little hen. I was just hoping you’d like a nice goodbye gift. I can give you more, if you want.”

You’re so pissed off at yourself for throbbing in response to his offer.

He pulls you back in and takes hold of the waistband of your pants. “How about it? Wanna get to know my new desk a little better?”

The sounds resonating from the office that morning scarred Springer.

[zodiyack]

Promises

Requested by anon: Omg hi again may I request a Sherlock Holmes x reader were they get married and have kids! Thank you <3

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Female!Reader

Warnings: One smut-indication?, funny angst, fluffity fluff, no proof-reading

Words: 1,953

Summary: (See Request)

Note: I’m making this a continuation of Reminders if that’s ok with you-

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @thewarriorprincessxo, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @missihart23, @beckster07890, @maan24

Masterlist | Henry Cavill Masterlist

Tears were shed, laughs were scattered, cheers were shouted. Sherlock had made good on his promise and married the lovely beautiful artist. He couldn’t stray his eyes from hers the entire wedding. It was difficult to even form words with how breathtaking the angel in front of him looked. Did they really expect him to say vows with this gift from the heavens standing right before him?!

Although Sherlock found it hard, he managed to spit out the words that caught in his throat. You’d hardly be able to tell he was a nervous wreck; the loving words that should bind them in mere moments came from his lips like poetry.

As soon as they were wed, Sherlock was eager to have his wife to himself. The entire after-party, he sat beside her with his leg bouncing impatiently, and that night he’d made love to her more times than they’d ever done in a week. A new record. He made it known that his promise was good.

What was to come after, though, was surely to be expected.

“Rin, stop moving sweetie.” She begged calmly for what felt like the thousandth time. Her youngest daughter fidgeted in the chair. She looked like a baby-doll propped up in an adults’ chair with how small she was. Painting her children was not uncommon for Y/n. They loved to model for their mother but most of the time her children could just barely stay still.

Their oldest, Eddie, a nickname for Edward, was goofy and had a heart like his aunt’s, both Enola and Eddie more child-like than times would prefer. Second oldest, Will Claud, short for William Claud, was determined, like his father, but had a habit of over doing it. He was the strict and ...well, the nerd brother. Will Claud just wanted to impress his father and mother, but he seemed to listen to his uncle Mycroft too much.

Next born was Alice. She had her mother’s skill in art as well as her father’s skill in mystery. She and Will Claud were born not too long from each other, so it was no surprise that they were constantly wrestling for the spotlight. Alice didn’t try to outwit her brother as much as he did her, but she wasn’t new to winning.

Finally, the twins; Clayton and Catherine. Clayton was mischievous and didn’t hesitate to make it known, but Catherine, sitting in that chair across her mother as her soft skin is replicated by paint onto a canvas of color, was practically an angel.

While the other children would hurdle over each other to get to their father every time he stepped through the front doors, Cathy would wait beside her mother politely before walking to her father slowly. Her siblings would part, forming a walkway in the middle as if she were royalty.

So then the joke was made and the chair painting was currently underway. They had to find the right chair, and they did. It looked so elegant, so royally distinguished. It looked perfect. Fit for a queen.

And that was what the joke was. That Catherine was the “queen”. Not a very funny one without context, Cathy’s siblings later found out, but a good one to tease her with. However, queen Cathy didn’t mind it. In fact, she was quick to drop into character, the smoothest transition known to man-kind. 

While, yes, Catherine’s character was rather humorous, it still held some concerns. Would she become the lordly queen her siblings tried to paint her as? Would she ever realize it was all a joke her siblings made up? Growing up was never something she forced on her children, but she didn’t want to have them growing too used to a title like that. Y/n joked to her husband one night in bed as they held the sleeping majesty, whom had crawled into their bed without reason.

“I’m highly aware she’s ‘the queen’ and all, but I really hope she doesn’t decide she’d like to adopt the complete role. I wouldn’t be able to stand it if my baby became my nightmare. The other four are already so much work.” She chuckled as she brushed some of Catherine’s hair behind her ear.

Sherlock looked at his sleeping daughter. She looked so at peace, just as she always did, and he nodded yet noted his disagreement. “I doubt she’d ever become such a hassle. She’s been so patient and kind, I can’t see her actually devolving a bad side. Clayton, sure, but his sister?” Their eyes flicked up to meet each others. A beat later and they were in hushed snickers.

“Mummy?”

“Yes?”

“When will daddy be returning home?” She had relaxed her facial muscles, if only she’d done so with her limbs- make it easier for her mother, and held a casual tone of voice. Another thing with Catherine; she was harder to read than most.

“I’m not sure, my dear. He should be back before supper...” Y/n lifted her head to peak over the easel and watch her three older kids as they played with Clayton. He was a tough kid, but always overestimated how tough he really was. Y/n felt concern fill her gut when he first begged to play with his older siblings, but she let him anyways, Sherlock being the one to thank for that decision.

“Good. I want to sit next to him tonight. And you. I want to sit next to both of you, mummy.” She gave her mother a small smile, which she returned, before adjusting to her original pose.

Y/n paused after she finished the details involving the chair and Cathy. “Catherine, you do realize that I sit next to your father at dinner, right? And Eddie sits on his other side...that is, if Willy loses their fight tonight...I wonder why they don’t just take turns...” She muttered the last few sentences to herself in heavy contemplation.

“Mhm! You can sit next to him too!” The little girl watched her mother process her question with wide eyes of anticipation. She realized Y/n still didn’t quite understand and was quick to explain. “I can sit on your lap, mummy! Like when I was this big!” Catherine held up her hands to show an overexaggerated space between her small hands that supposedly represented her only one or two years ago.

“Well... Daddy and I can talk about it when he gets home. Is that alright with you?”

“Mhm! But I don’t want to crush the new me, so don’t be afraid to tell me no, mummy, okay?!” Her innocence was adorable, but not more than the grin that sat upon her lips.

Clayton rushed in, causing Y/n to instinctively reach for her easel protectively. He chortled to himself before announcing what was on his mind. “It’s not a new you, Cathy, it’s a new me! I’ll bet you on it, I’m shore I have the funs!”

“Clayton Luther Holmes!” Y/n’s eyes doubled in size. “Who taught you about betting?”

Her son ignored her question and continued, “Besides, what if I want to sit on mother’s lap?!”

“We can’t both sit on mummy- what about the baby?”

“Uhh, it can move, no doy?! It can move just like Will Claud tells me to. It doesn’t need to be shell-fish!” Clayton muttered bitterly. “If Will Claud really wants to call someone his funny names, he should call the baby them.” His time with the older kids was undoubtfully the reasoning behind the failed attempts of words he didn’t fully understand.

“Do you mean ‘selfish?’“

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Don’t you agree, mummy? See, she agrees!” Clayton tried to argue with his twin, but his words had no effect on her. Catherine stared at him blankly, confused like her mother.

“Mummy didn’t say anything, Clayton. She said we can talk about it when daddy gets home, so you can wait here with me.” She scooted over a bit in the chair and pat beside her. Clayton shot her a look of distaste and ran back out into the yard.

“That was...odd.” Y/n blinked. 

“He did remind me though, mummy... The baby can’t move... maybe I could sit with daddy instead?” Catherine sounded reassuring, her feathery voice calming her mother.

Which she really needed. She could hardly focus on her painting now. Her heart was begging for Sherlock to walk through the front doors already, spare her from another interruption that would throw her off-course for the fifth time that evening.

Like magic, her wish was granted and a knock sounded on the study door. Both Catherine and Y/n’s heads snapped toward Sherlock entering the room. “How’s her-majesty doing?” He smirked at Cathy as he set down his case. “I heard from two little competitive detectives that mummy is creating a masterpiece of her masterpiece! Are the rumors true?”

“That they are, detective. Seems you’ve found out the surprise before it could surprise you.” Catherine giggled as her father lifted her from the soft red chair and spun her around before planting a kiss on her forehead.

“So, my little queen, how are you?”

“Good.” She smiled brightly. “How are you? Did mummy ask you yet?”

Sherlock turned to face Y/n, who looked away as fast as she could- wide eyes and all. “Did mummy ask me what, Rin?”

“If I could sit with you or her during supper? I would sit on mummy’s lap, but I don’t want to hurt the baby, and even if I could, Clay wants to sit on her too. I don’t want to make it unfair!” Catherine frowned. “I told him he could wait with me until you were here to talk about it but he didn’t want to.”

“I’ll tell you what. Since mummy has the baby, you can sit with her and I’ll have Clayton sit with me.”

“Yeah! He moves around a lot and we want to be extra careful with mummy and mini-baby, right?” Sherlock nodded, Y/n still trying to figure out what her daughter was saying, and sent Cathy off to play with her siblings until Alice finished supper. It wasn’t intended for Y/n’s pregnancy, but it certainly helped. A system in which the kids could claim nights to help out with meals. Alice loved to make dinners while Edward loved to bake. The smell of a delicious homecooked meal was never lacking in the Holmes house.

“Hear that? Mini-baby gets to sit next to the queen tonight.”

“I’m jealous, quite frankly.” Sherlock’s grin never ceased to bring Y/n’s to her face. Though she was exhausted, her husband made her feel calm and peaceful. “So, our five little reminders never cease to remind you, do they?”

“No...and don’t forget the sixth, Mr. Holmes.”

“Believe me, I haven’t, Mrs. Holmes. I’m simply awaiting their arrival. Perhaps a few more before I needn’t anymore reminders?”

“Mayhaps...however- Let’s talk about it when I’m no longer expecting, please. I’m already resisting the urge to collapse.” Sherlock chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he watched his wife struggle to the doors before helping her. His arms scoop her up and carry her to their room. They passed the paintings that hung upon the walls, portraits of Sherlock, portraits of their children, a portrait by her mother in law of their wedding day. The wall was home to their present and past, providing room for their future as well.

They were in their room for only a few minutes before a loud chatter followed them. Both adults closed their eyes and prepared themselves for their little ones who would burst through their doors at any moment. His promise was good, and they had five, almost six, reminders to show for proof.

[timelesslords]

Girl’s Night

Read on AO3

In which Annabeth has a little too much wine at Girl's Night and feels very guilty about it. Thankfully, Percy doesn't mind taking her home.

Annabeth Chase was very good at holding her alcohol.

In all honesty it was mostly because she didn’t drink that much to begin with. Being drunk had never been all that appealing to her— years of being on edge for the next fight made it difficult for her to intentionally dull her senses, and she never liked how foggy it made her brain either. Living in New Rome for the past few years hadn’t completely squashed those instincts, despite its top of the line anti-monster security.

But still. Annabeth could keep it together pretty well, when she chose to indulge. She’d gone to a few wild parties earlier in college, mostly at Piper’s behest, and she didn’t mind having a few glasses of wine every once in a while.

Girl’s Night was every once in a while. Every first Friday of the month, if you wanted to be exact about it. In all honesty the practice was probably a bit dumb and middle aged for a bunch of people (and, okay, ‘a bunch of people’ was generous- it was really only Piper, Annabeth and Hazel) in their early twenties, but Annabeth didn’t care. It was hard to keep up with people these days, and Annabeth appreciated the emphasis on female camaraderie and friendship.

Plus, Piper had really stellar taste in wine.

Tonight’s had been especially good, and after a long and stupidly stressful week at school (Annabeth wished she could emulate Percy’s senioritis, but unfortunately the Architecture program only got harder as it went on, not easier) Annabeth found herself a little extra appreciative of the relaxing effects of alcohol.

It seemed like all of them had had a tough week, because they were all buzzed pretty fast. Piper was even happy to deliver the latest Hollywood gossip, courtesy of her dad, and Hazel was telling them a story about a probie getting stuck in the unicorn stables that made Annabeth laugh so hard she was practically sobbing. Piper and Hazel were not much better; Piper had completely fallen off the couch from cracking up so hard, and Hazel could barely get a word in edgewise before she completely dissolved into giggles again.

It was then that Annabeth caught a glance of the two completely empty bottles of wine in front of them, and realized that all of them— though mostly she, specifically— had made a grave mistake. She had no idea how many times her own glass had been filled and then subsequently emptied, but it was enough that she was well past tipsy and solidly in drunk territory.

It was hard to care about the bad parts of being drunk when you were currently drunk, Annabeth was finding. Everything was just so much funnier.

Apparently Jason had also sensed that they were drunk, or maybe he just had heard the deranged cackling coming from the living room, and wanted to make sure they were all still alive.

“Are you guys alright?” he asked, sticking his head through the doorway.

“I’m fantastic. I mean, I don’t know about you two, but I am—” Piper paused, letting out a small hiccup, “Feeling awesome.”

“I feel great,” Hazel agreed, barely able to stop laughing long enough to let the words out.

Annabeth wasn’t sure she remembered how to form coherent words anymore, so she just gave a thumbs up.

“You guys are really drunk,” Jason said, voice an impressive mix of concern and amusement. He walked into the room, picking up one of the empty bottles of wine they’d left on the table and examining the label.

“That’s my man. Very smart,” Piper said, apparently completely seriously, leaning against Jason’s leg.

“Pipes, you realize this wine is like, 20%, right?” Jason asked, ignoring her declaration of his intelligence.

Piper frowned. The expression seemed very exaggerated, or maybe Annabeth’s head was just messing with her. It was very funny either way, and she had to stifle a laugh.

“Shut up Annabeth. Let me see that,” Piper said, holding her hand up for the bottle. Jason very wisely did not let Piper hold the bottle herself, instead holding it at eye level in front of her. She gripped the bottom of it, pulling it towards her and squinting at the label.

“Nevermind. I can’t read anymore,” Piper said, relinquishing her grip on the bottle. That sent Hazel and Annabeth into another fit of laughter. They would probably be drunk even if the wine wasn’t that strong, but it certainly explained why Annabeth felt like she was floating right now. She hadn’t been this wasted since at least freshman year, maybe ever. Everything was a little blurry at the edges, and she was dizzy in a kind of delightful way. She let out one last giggle.

“And that means we are officially at the me-calling-your-boyfriends time of the night,” Jason said, setting the bottle back down on the table. Piper groaned.

“Party pooper,” she grumbled, though she didn’t move herself off his legs.

“Sorry babe,” he said, apologetically, “You guys are welcome to crash here, obviously. I’ll just call Frank and Percy to let them know.”

“S’fine,” Hazel said, yawning and pulling out her phone, “I’ve been texting him. I’ll just tell him now.”

“That’s against the spirit of Girls Night.” Piper said, pointing an accusing finger at Hazel, “You’re a cheater.”

“I had to tell him about your dad’s friend secretly dating his co-star! She was in his favorite movie!” Hazel protested.

Annabeth had not texted Percy tonight, in part because, as Piper had said, it was against the spirit of Girl’s Night, but also because he was probably asleep. Usually he’d stay up and wait for her to get home, even though New Rome was probably the safest city on the face of the planet, and the chances of anything happening to Annabeth on the six block walk between their respective apartments was ludicrously slim. But he’d been practically dead on his feet when she left, and had agreed pretty easily to turn in early when she suggested it.

She immediately felt bad about the prospect of waking him up. She knew she should though— he’d much rather be woken up in the middle of the night than wake up in the morning with her not there. Even though it would take about three seconds to check his phone and realize everything was fine, old habits die hard and it would unnecessarily stress him out. Especially since it was the one night he’d agreed not to stay up and wait for her.

So waking him up was inevitable. Worse, she was starting to realize that she really wanted to be home with him. As comfortable as Piper’s floor was (and given how drunk Annabeth was, it was genuinely pretty comfortable) she just really wanted to be in her own bed, preferably with Percy also in it.

“Annabeth’s gonna want to go home,” Piper predicted, drawing Annabeth out of her thoughts, “She gets boyfriend clingy when she’s drunk.”

“I do not,” Annabeth said, even though she most definitely did.

“You’re a bad liar,” Hazel said, patting Annabeth’s leg sympathetically.

“I’m an excellent liar,” Annabeth said. Under normal circumstances this would be true. Unfortunately being drunk was not normal for her.

“Uh huh.” Piper said, “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want Percy to come pick you up.”

Annabeth looked into Piper’s eyes, currently a very pretty green shade. Not as pretty as the shade of green Percy’s eyes were, but nice, for eyes that were not Percy’s. What was she supposed to be doing again?

“This feels like a trick,” Annabeth said, squinting.

“She wants Percy to pick her up,” Piper said, tugging at Jason’s pant leg.

“Yeah, I got that,” Jason said. Annabeth was pretty sure he was laughing at them, but in her current state it was a little hard to tell. “Let me go get my phone.”

Piper whined as Jason walked away, leaning back against the couch.

“Can you even walk, Chase?” she asked, looking dubiously at Annabeth “He’s going to have to carry you home.”

“I can walk,” Annabeth said, very offended even though she didn’t entirely know if her statement was true. Piper snorted.

“You’re lucky Percy is strong.”

“This is all your fault, McLean. Don’t think I’ve forgotten,” Annabeth said, aiming a soft kick at Piper’s leg.

“Okay, in my defense I didn’t read the label,” Piper said, pulling her leg back just in time to avoid Annabeth’s foot.

“How is that a defense?” Hazel asked, though she was giggling.

Piper did not have time to further defend and/or implicate herself, because Jason appeared in the doorway again.

“Percy’s coming, he’ll be here in ten.”

“Was he mad?” Annabeth asked anxiously. Piper rolled her eyes.

“I don’t think Percy is physically capable of being mad at you,” she said.

“He thought it was funny, actually,” Jason said, ignoring Piper.

“Told you so,” Piper said smugly.

“Shut up,” Annabeth grumbled.

The next ten minutes passed in a very drunken blur. Now that she had fully realized she was intoxicated, the feeling only seemed to compound, each uncounted drink catching up to her with a reckless abandon. She was vaguely aware of Piper crawling back on the couch to lie down, and Hazel curling up in an armchair. Annabeth just stayed on her little patch of floor. If she got too comfortable, she wasn’t going to want to get up.

She could feel something anxious starting to prickle under the surface of all her artificially happy feelings, but it was sort of difficult to dissect when she couldn’t really think straight.

“Hey, Wise Girl,” a familiar voice said.

Annabeth looked up to see Percy smiling down at her. He looked so pretty she almost started crying. Almost. Crying as a normal human function was fine and good and emotionally necessary and all that, but crying because you were drunk and your boyfriend was hot was just embarrassing.

“I’m drunk,” she told him. Might as well get right to the point.

“Yeah, I gathered,” he said, still looking at her with entirely too much affection, “You feel okay enough to walk home?”

“Yeah. I wanna walk,” Annabeth said, accepting his hand and pulling herself to his feet. If he hadn’t been holding her she probably would have fallen over.

“You sure about that?” he asked skeptically, putting his other hand around her waist, steadying her. She leaned into him, because she always leaned into him, and yeah, okay, maybe she needed his support to walk straight, but what about it.

“Very sure,” Annabeth said. Already she was adjusting to being on her feet. Percy half looked like he wanted to protest, but making it out of the living room seemed to convince him that she was okay to at least make it a few blocks home.

Sitting down on the bench in the front hall to put her shoes on was somehow worse than walking. She managed to shove her shoes into her sneakers, but getting them tied was probably not going to happen.

“I can’t remember how shoelaces work,” Annabeth admitted, looking up at him, “Does that mean I’m screwed?”

“Well, there’s good news and there’s bad news,” Percy said, leaning down to tie her shoe for her. Annabeth shut her eyes tight, then opened them again, trying very hard to focus out her vision. It didn’t work.

“What’s the bad news?” Annabeth asked, because bad news tended to ruin good news, and she’d rather just get it out of the way.

“You’re going to be very hungover tomorrow.” Percy said, straightening up. She thought he was smiling, but considering there were two of his head floating around in front of her, it was kind of hard to tell.

“Are you laughing at me?” Annabeth asked. He was definitely smiling now.

“I would never,” Percy said, wrapping an arm around her waist, “C’mon, lets go.”

Their goodbye was not as extended or elaborate as Annabeth expected, mostly because Piper and Hazel were already half-way to being passed out. Still, there were some waves, some I-love-yous and a partially incoherent apology from Piper, though who it was aimed at was something of a mystery.

Stairs were just a bit tricky, but she managed to stumble down them without seriously injuring herself. She was sure Percy helped somehow, but she could barely tell the difference between his arms supporting her and her own movement.

“What’s the good news?” Annabeth asked, once they were safely on the sidewalk, heading in the direction of her apartment. It was probably cold, but between Percy’s body heat next to her and her own drunkenness, she could barely feel it.

“You haven’t thrown up?” Percy offered, half-heartedly. Annabeth swallowed down a gag.

“Don’t say those words again,�� she warned. Percy winced.

“Right. Sorry.”

“That wasn’t even good news, that was irrelevant news,”

“I think it’s excellent news, personally.” Percy said. He was laughing at her again, probably, but she also probably deserved it. Probably. She was wrapped under his shoulder because his arm was still helping hold her up, so it was kind of hard to see his face. She focused her eyes down at the sidewalk in front of her instead, focusing on not tripping.

“You would,” Annabeth said, “You didn’t have good news, did you?”

“I was sort of hoping you would forget,” Percy admitted.

“I never forget,” Annabeth reminded him. She had an excellent memory. Especially for things that had happened only 2 minutes ago. Admittedly the rest of the night was already starting to get a little blurry.

“I’m sorry for doubting you,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Annabeth felt a small stab of guilt. He was teasing her, sure, but he was also being stupid nice even after she’d dragged him out of bed in the middle of the night to practically carry her intoxicated self back home.

And now she was remembering where that little wiggle of anxiety had been stemming from. He didn’t like being around drunk people. He never really said anything, because he was him and thus was probably allergic to the mere thought of even mildly killing anyone else’s fun for his own personal comfort or convenience. But she knew him well enough that he didn’t need to say anything. He’d never taken up Piper’s offer to go partying with them, even though he encouraged Annabeth to go when she’d wanted to, and he hardly ever drank himself. Even then it was only in social situations, and usually just one drink that he probably didn’t even feel.

So maybe he hadn’t flat out said he didn’t like people being wasted around him, but he had told her about Gabe; how he was a drunk, abusive asshole. It wasn’t too hard to put the pieces together.

“I’m sorry I got drunk,” Annabeth said. It was kind of a lame apology considering she was probably slurring her words a good amount, but she meant it anyways.

She felt something shift in his demeanor— if she was sober, she would know instantly what the slight change in pressure meant. As it was, she was kind of in the dark.

“Why are you sorry?” he asked. She thought he sounded surprised, but maybe she was mishearing, because it would be dumb for him to be surprised by that. At the very least, he should understand she felt bad about ruining his night.

“Because, I got messy and you had to wake up and take me home even though I could have just slept on Piper’s floor,” Annabeth said. Words were sort of flowing out of her without her completely approving them, in a jumbled rush. She didn’t like it, but she couldn’t quite remember how to stop it either.

“I don’t mind,” he said, just as she’d known he would. He meant it too, even drunk off her ass she could tell he wasn’t annoyed at her at all, even though he would be totally justified to be.

“But I could have just slept on the floor,” Annabeth repeated, though even the thought caused her to lean deeper into him.

Percy slowed his pace, almost stopping. Annabeth tried looking up at him to decipher what he was thinking, but she couldn’t really make out his face well enough to tell.

“This isn’t just about waking me up, isn’t it?” he asked.

Ugh. Why did she forget in her drunken stupor that he knew her just as well as she knew him? Obviously he was going to pick up on something deeper that was making her feel guilty.

“I just—” Annabeth started, then stopped. It was difficult to pick words precisely enough for the thoughts she was having.

“I know you don’t really like parties and stuff. Or drunk people. And I’m a drunk people right now, so I’m sorry.”

Great job, Annabeth, Annabeth thought to herself. Very delicately put. The lack of subject verb agreement, that was a nice touch. You didn’t sound completely fucked up even a little bit.

God, she hated being drunk.

“I didn’t want you to wake up alone, tomorrow,” Annabeth said, trying again, “But I forgot that me being drunk might be worse, so that's why I feel bad.”

Percy stopped walking. At first Annabeth thought it was in response to what she’d just said, but then she realized they were in front of their apartment building.

Then she realized he wasn’t making any moves to go inside, so it was about what she’d said after all. Instead he turned her around so she could see his face, keeping his arms around her waist in support.

She couldn’t quite read his expression, yet another reason why alcohol was the devil.

“I have a feeling we’re going to need to repeat this conversation in the morning when you’re sober,” he started, “But just for the record, you being drunk doesn’t make me uncomfortable at all.”

Annabeth studied his expression, searching his face for any signs of mistruth. She found none, but she also couldn’t entirely trust her senses at the moment.

“Are you just saying that?” Annabeth asked, suspiciously, “Because that’s the sort of thing you would lie about.”

She had sort of expected him to sigh in annoyance, but to her surprise he smiled instead.

“I’m not lying, I swear.”

“But you don’t like other drunk people,” Annabeth insisted. For some reason the two ideas could not coexist in her mind.

“I don’t like drunk strangers,” he corrected, “You’re not a stranger.”

“Well, duh,” Annabeth said, which made him laugh. She hadn’t meant to, but she liked hearing him laugh, so she would accept it anyways.

“But doesn’t it— I don’t know, bring up bad memories, for you?” she asked, cautiously, “I don’t wanna do that. I don’t even really like being drunk.”

He just shook his head.

“If it did, I would tell you. But it doesn’t, I swear.”

Annabeth frowned. It was probably just her stupid wine brain, but she couldn’t quite connect the dots between all the points he was making.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because,” he said, somehow still smiling, “You’re you.”

“That’s a lame answer.” Annabeth said.

“It’s true,” he said, in that stupid earnest honest voice of his, “I mean, maybe if you started throwing beer cans at my head when you got tipsy it’d be different, but you’re the opposite of aggressive when you’re drunk. You actually get really cuddly, it's kind of cute.”

Annabeth knew he was trying to comfort her, but she also knew that Gabe had done a lot worse than throw beer cans at him. She felt a surge of anger on his behalf, but more powerfully a wave of sadness looking at his upbeat expression. It was so supremely unfair that she wanted to cry, but she just hugged him instead. She was probably proving his point about being cuddly, but she didn’t even care.

“I’m so glad your mom made him into a statue,” she mumbled into his chest.

“Me too,” Percy said, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“I love you so much,” Annabeth said, because she really, really did. Like so much. An embarrassing amount, if she were capable of feeling embarrassed about anything having to do with Percy Jackson, which she was pretty sure was impossible.

“I love you too,” he said, kissing the top of her head to prove it.

“Piper said I get boyfriend clingy when I’m drunk,” Annabeth admitted. He laughed, his chest vibrating beneath her.

“She might be right about that.”

“She’s usually right about things,” Annabeth said, without thinking. Then—

“Don’t tell her I said that.”

He laughed again, but it was quieter. She felt it more than she heard it this time.

“Your secret is safe with me,” he promised.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” Annabeth said, because she really did feel bad about that, even beyond all the other stuff, “I should have paid more attention to what I was doing.”

She felt him shrug underneath her.

“Stuff happens, it's not a big deal,” Percy said easily, “We’ll just sleep in tomorrow. Speaking of, we should probably go inside.”

As soon as he said ‘go inside’ Annabeth’s brain suddenly registered that she was exhausted. It was late, her head was swimming, and his chest had been very warm and very comfortable. She’d fallen half asleep without even realizing it.

“Inside sounds good,” Annabeth agreed, yawning.

“C’mon, I’ll carry you the rest of the way,” Percy said, finally pulling away, brushing a few stray curls out of her eyes.

Maybe if she had been sober she would have protested. As it was she was pretty happy to climb on his back and rest her head on his shoulder. He looped his arms under her legs and lifted her up easily. Gods, he was stupidly strong. She should appreciate that more.

“I love you,” she mumbled one last time into his shoulder. Whether he’d heard or responded was a mystery to her, because she was asleep before he finished climbing the stairs.

[bakingandbooks3]

A Court of Song and Serpents

A bit short but the begging of a project I'm SO excited for- hope you love this as much as I do.

Summary: What a time to be alive as Nesta Archeron, going backward to move forward and finding that the places she once called home are now empty tombs.

Nesta

Nesta held her breath for a moment, a pause, and stilled entirely. The Court of Nightmares. She knew the verdict would be severe, but never would she have expected exile to a world of terror. The horrors of that place, of how it was once the main residence of the High Lord- till Rhysand.

Rhysand, the man who boasted of lands bountiful with choice and reason, now sat across from her donning unmasked hatred. A look he kept shielded from his mate, reserved just for Nesta. The kind that rips one apart from the inside out, would carve out the belly of a beast, burn a witch on a wooden pyre.

Nesta felt nothing, she always did. It wasn’t hard to see what he was thinking of her, how his beautiful wife’s wretched sister was little more than a gambling thief who slept her way through his glorious city. Now, fingers smeared that blank canvas so pure of her darkest shades.

Eyes flicking back, she studied that same sister. The Cursebreaker, the Savior.

How small and insignificant she became next to the glimmering shining thing Feyre was. The lands spoke of her beauty and kind touch, and how she sacrificed everything to save a world of people, and Fae that she was raised to despise.

Nesta wished it’d be known that her touch wasn’t always kind.

She built her bricks firm enough that her house of grace never shattered; Held firm, it was all she had left in her. Too many eyes on her filled with grief, excitement, retribution-Nesta was keenly aware of how this Court of Dreams felt of her.

“This is an exile.”

Rhysand's smirk peaked so slightly, his mate tensing.

“No, no. This is an intervention, a chance for you to find yourself away from bad influences and habits. You can’t keep living like this, and I refuse to let it continue happening and I take the fall for it. Your decisions are impractical and immoral. You are sober much less than you are drunk and-”

“If you’re going to condemn me, do it. But don’t sit here and act as if this is out of kindness.” Nesta snarled. She hated the barbed words, but it’s what she felt. “Who are you to question my morality?”

“I think I can speak for my wife when I say that your presence here is….” Rhysand growled but pulled back, like he forgot Feyre was right there, too.

Nesta wished he would’ve let go, so maybe that facade Rhys reserved for Feyre was broken. No, that’s cruel. As much as she hated this and him, he was making her sister happy.

Something Nesta could never do.

“I do not give a shit what my presence is doing. The decision has already been made, so stop scolding me like a child and make good on your word, Rhysand.” Bile rose in her throat, the words feeling nothing but slimy and disgusting. Foreign, yet habitual all the same. Sometimes, she forgets there once was a woman called Nesta who was so much more than the viper living in her now.

Sometimes she remembers that she can’t ever be her again.

Home was nowhere for her, not in a person, not in a place, certainly not in this bombastic group of “heroes”. Nesta didn’t need a hero, she just needed someone to care. But Nesta knew better, no one would. She was taught to be unlovable, just a woman to be sold off and married- to climb her mothers' ever-growing social ladder.

But Nesta on her own was never enough, even with her mother six feet under and rotted away there were unsung expectations unmet. She was a catastrophic failure and a dark smear on a family name that never truly held weight to her.

Nesta looked up, felt everything all at once again, could only see one man pacing a worn-through tether between them. He wasn’t going to stop this, but she could see it, how it looked like he wanted to jump out of his own flesh, the veins of his arm prominent and knuckles normally so brown a new fresh fallen snow.

There was no prince to save Nesta, much less any will to save herself. So when Mor took the pleasure of bringing her to a living Hell, Nesta did not fight.

She was tired of fighting, after all, she fought an inescapable fate for the first twenty years of her life…

Flowers always made Nesta sneeze, but Elain lit like lights during winter whenever she could thread them through her hair. They all symbolized something, Laine would say. There are ones for good days, and hard storms, for sunshine and stars.

Nesta was always adorned in flowers that paralleled the estate. Astute, cold, tired, where she was warm, comforting, and smelled like cookies- ones that Celia normally baked for the sisters. She never asked Laine why she picked the ones for her that she did, her reasons would stay silent for now.

Spring was a high time of activity in the Archeron estate. There was always a flurry of activity, from preparing their mothers' obscene balls, to guests at every corner in every room. The halls were sprinkled in candles and on walls hung frames nearly kissing it was packed so tight.

They were in the gardens. It was an Elain day, as the girls would call it, and no matter how boring or mundane her wishes were they’d be fulfilled. Nesta was propped on the floor in front of Laine, who was bunching handfuls to weave in tangled auburn coils that gathered on Nesta’s head- as a bird's nest would.

Eventually, Nesta would have to learn braids or risk knotting the curls entirely.

The eldest basked in the silence she created from mentally muting her middle sister, and spared a glance at Feyre. What she saw was not surprising, but required far more willpower than she expected to not burst into laughter and risk the flowery rat's nest on her scalp.

Feyre appeared to be so bored out of her mind she was eating discarded flowers of Elains. Actually, ingesting them, as if she was a critique. When Elain wasn’t looking at Feyre, she’d grab another couple and study them- analyzing her next experiment. Glaring at the blues and yellows as if she was speaking to them, “Which one of you will make me puke the fastest so I can run away?”

In time, Feyre looked up from her taste tests to see Nesta grinning at her so violently you’d think Feyre hung the moon.

And Feyre beamed back, crossing a pinkie across her chest and pointing it back to Nesta. Then she viciously spit out the grass she’d just finished chewing, crying directly at Laine, “This MUST stop at once, my stomach hurts far too much to continue on here.”

Elain, in a garden so quiet, simply ignored her sister's poor attempts at escape. Making Nesta work even harder to stifle the shaking of her shoulders, covering her mouth and nose before she started wheezing. Elain would hardly hurt a fly but sent Nesta a glare that could’ve easily killed a man.

Nesta cleared her throat, “I do believe there are more of the blue flowers down that hill near the pond. Would you mind getting some more for Laine?”

Feyre was already on her feet, mouthing her thanks as Elain turned her back to get the next bunch of flowers, “Why of course I will!” And with a very bad curtsey, Feyre threw off her shoes and was rolling down the hill, spinning wildly, her laughter sure to be heard in meadows far beyond theirs.

You would find the Archeron sisters all together, or never in the same place.

Laine was the easiest to find, by the waters or pond on the east side, in gardens surrounded with bugs and willows calling to the young girl. She could hardly read but if the text included any mention of colors and blooms, suddenly she was a scholar. Elain was not simple or dull, but rather a passive spirit, like a summer wind- brief, fleeting, but teeming with love and hope.

Feyre, as their mother said, was a reckless wild child. Far too young to care, far too small to be whipped into shape. If you were sent to find her and your life depended on it, may the Mother bless you. Feyre liked the kitchen, because of the immaculate food and maids who would shove any sweet down the littlest Archerons throat. But, also for the immeasurable amount of sharp items to be found in there. If it was pointy and could stab a wall or scare their ice-cold mother, Feyre would be running the halls with it in hand or making targets of her fathers old trade route maps.

Then there was Nesta, the firstborn. Molded to be another woman that she somehow couldn’t fit, as if her feet were too big or hair too long, Nesta was outgrowing the standards forged into her being. You would see her as a ghost, floating in and out of rooms, comfortable in silence and slumber, but never escaping people. She loved the maids and could recite all of their names like clockwork, and the workers loved her in turn. Always stuck in new worlds between pages or willingly dragged by the two youngers, Nesta teemed with liberation. She was often alone, but never lonely, and found new loves in the library or in the fields beyond marble confines.

Adela was constantly dissatisfied with her eldest's progress inside these walls, as if at eight she should’ve already been engaged to a prince. Granted, Adela knew better. Nesta would never truly find another kingdom to buy into when she already had a crown waiting for her elsewhere. She was known as fair and beautiful beyond her years, would age like fine wine, and become so much greater than Adela ever was. What Nesta saw as fit would normally come to be, an instinct Adela was unprepared she would inherit. Nothing left her more confused than this daughter only by blood, who was hated by both her parents for reasons far from the same, and how at less than ten years had an entire mansion wrapped around her fingers.

But Adela would wait, and simply leave them be for now. When viper's strike, they kill. And even though the Matron of the house wanted her little queen gone, she had other ways to see this through.

Anyways, children's blood on her hands would stain her diamonds.

---

Cassian

Cassian was violently fucking ill. Watching whatever the fuck that was did not help in the slightest. The second she was gone, so was he.

The General and High Lord were not on speaking terms, his presence was an obligation and not a request. When Rhys first displayed his plans, Cassian just about murdered him. Had his brother on the table in a chokehold that the Shadowsinger had to come and release Rhys from. The way his so-called family planned her exile was… horrific.

Cassian was full of light and humor, but not dull the way his family made him out to be. He could see this for what it was, punishing an already broken female for not meeting every damn need of a fully grown woman that was no longer her responsibility. Cass knew better than to downplay the sacrifices Feyre made, but he was also well aware that Nesta's habits were hardly a financial problem and more of a reputation scandal.

That’s what the High Lord did best, when his Court was breaking at the bonds, the mess would “disappear”. Just like the Illyrians hidden in the mountains, the displaced families of Spring, the homeless warriors of Night.

Cassian loved his brother, but more often than not he wondered when Fate would come to bite them in the asses for Rhys’ neglect.

Now, here he was, in his mothers' cabin, wings dragging behind him wiping tears long since shed over a woman who was thrown to the wolves and torn into so many scraps he wasn’t sure how he could put her together again.

He missed his Nesta, the one who threw glares and begged for her people, not this one who hardly spoke and caved into herself enough that she couldn’t see where she was heading.

Cassian fingered for his mug in the wooden cabinets and hit his mark, soon placing water to heat over a small fire over the counter.

He was not okay, not okay at all.

When you look for something in the dark for too long, you eventually find what you need but not always in the way you expect. Cassian coped the same as Nesta Archeron in his first years post-war. It was suffocating trying to be the happy one while dying inside. He watched men he looked up to fall and a lover he admired take her last breath- too much in far too little time. Cassian was not an idiot, he was simply perplexed. Why was he allowed to grieve in unacceptable manners, but Nesta was a sinner in holy clothing?

Bright walls and unlit rooms in the house were silent, only the winds of the mountains singing outside. The newly dusted snow wrapped the dirt in a delicate kiss- a forbidden touch. It was the peak of winter, just after Feyre’s birthday and another insufferable party.

One that Nesta wasn’t invited to.

Cassian wished he wasn’t invited either.

The cup in his hands was dwarfed in comparison to the bulky Illyrian holding it, but at least it was warm. At least it wasn’t empty.

Because if there was one thing he knew, it could always be worse.

Cassian knew that if things were a little different, he’d be the one sitting in a prison of darkness and Hell because of mistakes made as a child. He’d be exiled by family, cast away by the only living remains of a life once lived.

Nesta didn’t know but long before this he had called it even, their sins atoned for in hurting each other equally.

She was the only one in the world who could tell which smiles he was faking.

To anyone on the outside, one kiss was merely that. How curious it was, the iceberg went far deeper.

So when the mug crashed against the wall, and in its wake resembled his inner turmoil, Cassian took to the skies and found himself at the door of a place far too familiar.

.

.

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AHHHHHHHH OMG OKAY hope you guys enjoyed this:) if you want to be added to the tag list let me know!

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[tomatograter]

How much of jakes begging dirk not to leave in meat do you think is his own true feelings vs Dirks influence?

I don't think Dirk’s influence is enough to make anybody do anything they did not already have half a mind to do. I've seen this be debated a lot, but Dirk is... not The Word Of God. That's pretty much the biggest joke about his defensive posturing. Dirk barks very loudly, and asserts himself in audience-antagonizing overseeing orange voice - but he cannot force you to do something you really don't want to do. He’s only as powerful as your urges.

He struggles, multiple times, to make characters do the simplest things that go against their base instincts. Dave definitely had romantic feelings for Karkat, but he was so sure their relationship could stay and strive as platonic that he pushes Dirk away. He wasn't Right about this, but he was sure of his position.

June is easy. June wants an adventure. June wants to not be herself. June will take any excuse to abandon everything and get to live a cool life where the most pressing issue is “which bad guy do i have to punch” again.

Terezi's arc in homestuck proper is largely about her learning to listen to HERSELF, not the alternian laws or game rules or meddling undead sylphs or doc scratches or whoever the fuck else, and she mocks Dirk's narrator voice to his face. She recognizes the alien thought the moment she has it.

Kanaya has always feared she holds Rose back. She loves her wife deeply, and respects her even more, but her penchant to being attracted to explosive girls (Remember Vriskan? You should remember Vriskan.) Also doubles as Kanaya grappling with the fact that she cannot control them. It's part of the appeal, that they are forces of nature so large and unpredictable she cannot help but be drawn to their orbit like a moth to a flame. Kanaya letting go of Rose is an unspooling of her deepest insecurities, her habit of giving others more credit than she gives herself, and how she's relented to the years peddled position of "mom friend" - kanaya the spoilsport, kanaya the grub nun, kanaya the... Quite Dreadfully Just Regular, I’m Afraid. What could she possibly claim to offer when put up against the secrets to understand an universe? (She isn't right about this, either.)

And Jake? Here's a bit from Jake's confession that i believe has gone largely unexamined:

Take a moment to really consider the positioning of other characters towards Jake in the epilogues. Then a little bit more in the direction of HS proper this time. Jake is the subject of constant degradation at the hands of the cast at large. His plight is always unsympathetic, his role troublesome, and he acquiesces to claiming the guilt for "being a problem in his friendgroup" or "for being assaulted by a friend he ignored" or "for being too useless and stupid", yet even though he cannot let go of the pesky self-flagellating habit, there's... Dirk.

This is how Dirk is represented and this is what he is primarily remembered by in the deepest recesses of Jake’s brain. It could have been anything else, but it’s this instead. Brain ghost dirk is not a dirk with his edges cut off, he’s not a pliant wifedirk, he’s not a little helpful tutorial phantom that tells jake everything he wants to hear - he’s quite harsh and sarcastic As A Dirk, but he believes in a Jake that’s more than the facade he presents as. Truly and fully. This is a Dirk that loves Jake, and not quite platonically.

I think it’s a bit ignorant to suggest Jake has legitimately no reason for loving Dirk back when their canon designation is “Best friends” and “Complicated lovers”. Jake loves Dirk for his brightest parts. Jake has expected a love confession from Dirk ever since the very beginning of the above conversation, during his 13yo birthday, where the big joke is “WELP, i guess instead of dirk telling me he’s gay and that we’ve been flirting all this time, he just says he’s from the future instead!”

Dirk’s influence is only to blame here insofar as him doing such a good fucking job of screwing himself over. It’s stellar. Dirk thinks the AR forced Jake’s feelings, dirk thinks he’s predatory and irredeemable, dirk convinces the audience Jake cannot possibly have a single reason to love him back, dirk fully drapes himself in the capes of being a Bad Guy, but this is HIS justification, when faced with the fact Jake pretty clearly has feelings on the matter buried deep down, and he’s a glaringly /unreliable/ narrator. The biggest tragedy of this bit is the confirmation that the heel turn and the spiel are wholly unnecessary, they clearly had things they could have invested on to make this work, but dirk is too caught up on his high horse to listen. 

Like with Kanaya, Dirk is responsible for exaggerating a heavy mass of preexisting feelings, not creating them. 

Creation, as it happens, is more of Jake’s wheelhouse.

[gamerwoo]

[Tales from the Pack] Joshua: Second Chance (Part Two)

Characters: Joshua x female reader (well this part is more like Joshua x female oc)

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, fluff, some angst

Word count: 4,932

Summary: After his mate died, Joshua always blamed himself and never wanted to imprint again. However, fate has other ideas when he meets you: a young, energetic werecoyote that’s quite the opposite of him. He insists he doesn’t want a new mate – nobody’s even sure if he’s ready for a new one – but he can’t ignore his instincts.

a/n: things in bold are in english, and everything is in italics because it’s all backstory stuff

Previous | Next | Second Chance Masterlist

Lilly Green started out as a childhood friend. Joshua grew up with her since they were neighbors and their parents were close. Even when their families decided to relocate because of the worsening famine in America, they were still together. Joshua was even the one to teach her Korean -- of course, he taught her how to compliment him before teaching her anything of good use.

But Lilly was also the one to keep Josh in line. He was always a bit of a troublemaker, and it only got worse when he got closer to shifting for the first time. He got into fights, snuck out when he wasn’t supposed to, and did just about every single thing he was told not to do. The only person that could seem to get him to listen was Lilly.

The only time Joshua and Lilly were apart was when he shifted. He was gone for five days.

The first two days, Lilly waited. She waited outside her house or would do her work in the window to watch for Joshua. She wasn’t sure if she’d scold him or hug him when he returned, but she just wanted Joshua to come back. She missed her best friend.

The third day was when she was fed up with waiting around and finally went out to find him. She searched all around town and even ventured one day to the neighboring town, but she never found Joshua. Since his parents hadn’t even heard from him or known what happened, she wasn’t sure if he was kidnapped or killed.

“He’s just run away, Lilly,” her parents kept insisting. “You know how he is -- he’s not a good kid. He’s not coming back so stop going off after him, you’ll get hurt.”

But she was absolutely positive he didn’t run away and left her behind. Joshua would never leave her like that. Not her Joshua.

It wasn’t until the early hours of the sixth day that Joshua came back. He had to leave right away, but he had to say goodbye to Lilly first. He refused to leave for good before he saw her one last time.

The evening he’d left, he had shifted for the first time. Terrified, Joshua ran off into the woods, unable to change back or figure out his emotions. It wasn’t until a scrappy pack of young men who he later realized were other werewolves found him and were able to calm him enough that he went back home. But not before one of them -- he seemed to be like the ‘leader’ and claimed to be their alpha, but even Joshua was skeptical of how true that was -- explained that the odds he could stay in his town were very slim. People didn’t take kindly to werewolves, so that meant Josh would be in danger staying there.

“You go collect what you need and say goodbye to anybody you have to,” the boy, Jaemin, told him, “and then you can come back to me. We’ll be your pack.”

So Joshua managed to climb up to Lilly’s window and slip in. She always left it cracked when it was warm because she liked the cool breeze, so he wasn’t surprised that the window was open. He was surprised, however, that she was sitting up in bed, staring at the window like she expected him to tumble ungracefully into her bedroom.

“Shit Lilly!” he whispered, clutching his heart. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“Where have you been?” she demanded, keeping her voice low so as to not wake her family.

Joshua averted his eyes, “...I can’t tell you.”

It didn’t take much for Lilly to notice something was off. Instead of the familiar brown she knew, Josh’s eyes were now a liquid gold that seemed to practically glow in the moonlight that lit up her room. She scooted forward on her bed and gripped his jaw, forcing him to look at her. She almost pulled away from how warm his skin was.

“Josh,” her voice was soft like she was cooing at him, her green eyes searching his, “you can tell me anything. What happened to you?”

Joshua continued to stare into her eyes in silence as he tried to work through his thoughts. Not only was he struggling on the decision to tell her everything, but he was also sensing new things. Lilly’s sweet fragrance he’d always smelled suddenly smelled sweeter -- like the best thing he’d ever smelled. When he first saw her after being away for so long, she was the only thing he saw. And yet, he didn’t feel any different looking at her.

“You won’t believe me if I tell you,” he breathed.

“I’ll believe anything you tell me,” she promised. “I always have, haven’t I?”

It wasn’t a lie. She believed him when he said the boy at church was bullying the homeless children -- he’d gotten in trouble for beating him up because nobody but her believed him -- she believed him when he said a hunter in town had stolen from a poor man -- again, he’d gotten in trouble for beating that man up, too -- and she even believed him when he made their pact to stay by each other’s side when they were four -- and she clearly stood by that because she waited for him to return for five days. Lilly always believed him, and he knew by the look in her eyes that this would be no different.

“Those monsters...the ones they tell stories about to the kids in town...” he began slowly, unwanted tears welling in his eyes. “Would you hate me if I became one of them...?”

“The werewolves?” she asked.

Joshua nodded, his eyes closing and a tear sliding down his cheek.

He expected to feel her grip on his chin loosen. He expected to feel her scramble away from him before yelling for him to get out or for her father to grab his gun or something awful. He expected the absolutely worst -- for him to lose his best friend.

Instead, he felt arms wrap around his neck before a hand guided his head into their shoulder. He heard Lilly quietly shushing his silent sobs as she held him to her, stroking his hair in a comforting manner. And he suddenly felt a hundred times better being in her embrace, his arms instinctively wrapping around her waist as he knelt in front of her bed.

“You’re not a monster to me, Josh,” she told him. “You never will be.”

“But it means I have to break our pact,” he told her in a broken whisper, not wanting to move his face from her shoulder. “I can’t stay here, Lilly. It’s not safe for me.”

“You don’t have to break it if you take me with you.”

Josh let out a soft chuckle, pulling away to look up at her, “I can’t take you with me. You’re too young to be out on your own.”

“And you’re not?” she frowned, wiping his tears away with her thumbs.

“I’ll be taken care of,” he reassured her. “You should stay here with your family. ...It’s where you belong.”

He wasn’t sure why, but the thought of leaving Lilly hurt more than it normally would’ve. It was like it physically hurt his heart. He didn’t even want to leave her bedroom. He wanted to hide away there and live there forever.

Lilly let out a silent sigh as she looked over Joshua’s face. She wanted to memorize every part of his face if she really was going to lose him so suddenly. But she understood why he had to leave. Even though werewolves were played off as a myth to most people, they were still known to be lurking about by adults and higher-ups in town. If Joshua was found out to be one...

“Make a new pact with me, then,” she decided.

“What is it?”

“When I turn the legal age,” she began slowly, a small smile tugging up the corners of her lips, “come find me.”

Joshua should’ve known she wouldn’t give up that easily, but it made his heart flutter knowing she’d want to see him again.

“What if I don’t?” he smirked.

“Then I’ll track you down, Hong.”

“Is that a threat, Green?”

“No, that’s a promise.”

Joshua’s face broke out into a smile as he nodded, “I’ll always come back for you.”

The sun was going to start rising soon, so Joshua knew it was time for him to go. He had to sneak into his own house, get some clothes and items important to him, and get back to Jaemin. That meant he had to wrap things up with Lilly.

“I really have to go now,” he sighed, the smile falling.

“I’ll see you again,” she reminded him.

“You will,” he promised, another smile -- this one smaller -- forming on his lips. “I’ll miss you, Lilly.”

“I’ll miss you, too, Josh.”

Joshua leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before moving to get up. However, he was stopped by a tug on his wrist. He looked back at Lilly in confusion.

“If this is the last time I’ll see you for a while,” she began, “you better kiss me properly.”

If there were butterflies in his stomach just from knowing Lilly wanted him to come back, he wasn’t sure what was happening inside him now. He was, however, very aware of the loud, happy grumble that came from his chest. It made Lilly laugh while his cheeks heated up in embarrassment.

Lilly’s hand cupped his cheek before leaning in, her lips pressing against his in a sweet kiss that Joshua immediately melted into, a purr resonating in his chest that had the girl smiling against his lips.

“Go,” she chuckled when she’d pulled away. “Take care of yourself.”

Joshua nodded, still slightly in a daze as he stood up, “Y-you too.”

And with one final glance over his shoulder, he was gone out her window.

Joining Jaemin’s pack was one of Joshua’s biggest regrets. Jaemin and the four other boys he led -- more like manipulated -- only made his anger management and bad habits even worse. They taught him to do things he shouldn’t, they encouraged him to lash out, and they overall just didn’t care about him or his wellbeing at all.

The one thing that reminded him to not completely lose who he was, was Lilly. He’d continue to go to the edge of town, following the pull he felt to her to watch her. She never knew he was there, but just seeing her was enough to remind him of who he was, where he came from, and the kind of person Lilly saw and loved him as.

Thankfully, Joshua didn’t stay with the five boys for long. It was only a few years before they turned on him and he had to wander aimlessly for somewhere else to stay.

And that was when he met Beom.

She was short, old, and round, and walked around with a walking stick that was even taller than she was. The energy she radiated was kind, and her personality was no different. He didn’t know how or why, but when he found her house, she was already standing in the open doorway like she expected him and knew he wasn’t any threat. Beom was strange, but she was the nicest person he’d encountered since Lilly.

While Joshua stayed with Beom, he met other werewolves that the strange old woman knew. They helped Beom around the house and protected her, and in return, she cared for them and fed them and gave them what they needed up until they went off to travel. Then it was just her and Joshua.

However, in the back of Joshua’s mind, he was always counting down the days to Lilly’s birthday when she could legally leave her family and be with him instead. He would still lurk around the edges of town and check up on her because he just couldn’t stay away from her. 

Beom quickly picked up on this.

“She’s your mate,” the elderly woman stated, a small smirk on her face when Joshua has shown up at her house after his daily stakeout.

He paused, giving a quizzical look in her direction, “What?”

“The girl you go to see,” Beom clarified, her eyes moving from where she was looking at the stove to finally meet Josh’s confused look, “she’s your mate.”

“My what?”

“Your mate -- every werewolf has one. Fate brings the two of your together, and it’s a bond you can never get rid of. Once you’ve imprinted, you’re in it for life.”

“So...like soulmates?” Joshua asked.

Beom only nodded once before going back to cooking.

Curiously, Joshua walked over to her, “How do you...tell?”

“It’s something that happens as soon as you see them,” she began, stirring the pot of food she was making for the wolves. “All you can see is them. You just feel it in your heart when you look at them that they’re the one. It’ll hit you like a ton of rocks, Joshua -- trust me, you’ll know.”

Josh just frowned, figuring Beom must’ve been wrong, “But I didn’t feel any different looking at her before I left.”

“Do you not like being away from her?”

“Well...no, but I don’t like being away from my pack for too long, either.”

Beom scoffed, turning to look at the young werewolf, “That’s different from how you feel being away from her, isn’t it?”

“Because we’ve been friends since birth.”

Beom just chuckled. He seemed to have an excuse for everything she threw at him, but she knew better than he did -- she didn’t even have to see him look at the girl to know.

“You believe what you’d like to,” she told him with a happy sigh, turning back to the food, “but you should know, Joshua, that I’m never wrong.”

But Joshua hadn’t even known Beom for a few months, so he took that statement with a grain of salt, forgetting about it in favor of focusing on Lilly. He continued to watch from the outskirts of town, and he continued to keep track of days until he could see his childhood friend again, not once thinking about what Beom had told him.

But one day, the pull he felt to Lilly just...vanished. He continued to go to town to try to find her, but it was like she had completely disappeared off the face of the planet. So he eventually had no other choice but to give up.

Again, Beom noticed this.

At the time, it was just Joshua living with Beom -- though Seungcheol was the first to find Beom, but he was exploring off in other territories in hopes of finding the rest of his pack -- but two other wolves that she took care of, Minho and Oliver, would visit often. They all had known Josh was going off to the town he’d grown up in, but even the two other wolves grew concerned when they noticed that he wasn’t leaving everyday like he used to. Why would he suddenly stop? Did something happen? Did he have to lay low?

But Beom knew immediately what it must’ve been: the girl. Of course, her only assumption was that Lilly simply died. As far as she knew, that was the only way to get rid of the bond. But Joshua would’ve felt in his heart if Lilly died, and he seemed relatively fine. He didn’t look or act like he was experiencing horrible heartbreak, so what else could it have been?

Years went by and nobody knew what had happened. Joshua still thought about her everyday, wondering what happened to her. He eventually found his pack with Jihoon stumbling across Beom’s path when she offered him help when he was injured -- he definitely didn’t seem to want the help, but he warmed up to her -- with a panicked Seokmin sticking by his side. She had run into Jeonghan in town and just invited him back to her house for lunch because she just knew there was something special about him. With the three of them now in Beom’s care, Jihoon thought it best they try to find the rest of their pack and settle down somewhere. They moved out into a small cottage in town Jeonghan had been living in -- it was dangerous, but it was all they had since Beom’s was small with only one bedroom -- but would still check in regularly up until Jihoon decided to explore outside the town.

Seungcheol had known Beom years prior and had even lived with her for a long time. However, he had gone off to do some traveling of his own in hopes of finding a pack. Beom hadn’t heard from him in who knew how long, but he had finally returned with three members of his pack while Jihoon had taken Seokmin, Jeonghan, and Joshua off on their own adventures. Seungcheol, Wonwoo, Mingyu, and Hansol had decided to set to work on building a house in the forest nearby to live in, figuring living close to Beom would be good for them.

Once Jihoon had returned with his pack, plus Seungkwan now, they were introduced to Seungcheol and his pack, and they all felt connections to both alphas. So the construction of the house became an even bigger project.

And even bigger still once Soonyoung had shown up as the sun was setting one evening, begging for help because they’d gotten themselves into some trouble.

With the alphas content with their pack thus far, they continued building onto the house until it was completed. It took a lot of time and effort, but it was worth it. Plus, all of the tasks kept Joshua’s mind off of what had happened with Lilly. The little addition of the baby left at Beom’s door one night was even more distraction as the older wolves visited everyday to try to track down the parents and help care for the infant Beom named Soomin.

Still, he thought about Lilly every night before he went to sleep, wondering just what in the world happened to her.

And nobody except Josh and Beom -- and Oliver and Minho, who had already gone off together to travel -- knew that Lilly ever even existed.

However, there was a night where one of the two boys had gone to visit Beom due to an injury.

Oliver and Soomin were sitting at the table together, the teenage girl studying her books while Oliver sipped some team that the old woman had made him to help him heal. Suddenly, the wolf looked up from his tea that Beom had made him and set on the table, giving a confused look to the old woman who was standing at her small cauldron, “What’s that sound?”

“What sound, dear?” Beom replied, seeming unable to hear the odd sounds Oliver heard.

Soomin looked up at him before her eyes went out of focus while she tried to hear what Oliver had.

It wasn’t odd to hear the wind shriek outside, especially on a rainy night. However, this sounded different. It wasn’t the same kind of moan one would hear as rain rapped on the windows. This sounded far too human to just be the sounds of the wind that Oliver liked to listen to while Beom worked on potions and whatnot.

He heard it again, but closer now -- Soomin picked up on it now, too. This time, he was sure it was human. Concerned, Oliver got up from his chair at the table and walked over toward the door. He opened the front door and took a few steps outside, trying to listen more carefully; trying to hear for the same cries but also trying to use his sense of smell to see if he smelled anyone nearby.

Of course Beom had heard the shrieking, but she knew Oliver would no doubt go retrieve the person and bring them back if need be -- and much more efficiently than she ever could. Besides, she knew the forest near her house was safe and would keep the poor wanderer protected until it could manage to lead her to the cottage.

“She’s northeast from here,” Oliver murmured to himself as he tried to gather any more information before deciding what to do next. He turned his head, looking to Beom to see the hints of a proud smile on her face. “Should I go find her?”

“No, my dear,” Beom told him. She could hear the sprites and they promised to safely lead the wanderer to the cottage. There was no immediate danger, so there was no reason for Oliver to go out when he was already hurt. “The forest will lead her here. It always does.”

And it did. Oliver was standing by the window with Soomin standing beside him and straining her eyes in the dark. The pair were unable to focus on anything else until they were sure the human girl was safe. Oliver’s sharp eyes intently watched for any sign of the person he heard in the night. When a redheaded girl finally arrived, he was at the door before she could even knock.

“Beom, she’s here!” Soomin announced.

Beom opened the door after the first bunch of frantic knocks -- Oliver was nervous about scaring her while Soomin was slightly frightened the strange girl could be someone bad, so they let Beom answer the door. Before her stood a girl with coppery-orange hair that was soaking wet and dripping down her tattered dress. Her face was sunken in, and her skin looked unhealthily pale. Her green eyes looked back at Beom with fear, but just a tinge of hope in them.

“Please,” she breathed, out of breath from running, “you have to help me.”

Of course, Beom hurried the shivering girl inside, asking Oliver to grab her new clothes that weren’t sopping wet while Soomin immediately went to make tea without even being asked. Beom sat the girl down at the kitchen table, not worrying about the mud and water the girl was tracking in. She gave her a knitted blanket, wrapping it around the poor girl as Soomin offered her tea that would not only warm her up, but would definitely help her with the lack of nourishment she seemed to have.

As soon as Beom asked what happened, the girl didn’t stop talking. She explained the whole story: how she was waiting to become of age so she could run away with the boy she loved, but how the town found out he was a monster. So they put her to sleep and locked her away so he could never track her down to take her with him. She still wasn’t even sure how long she was asleep, but as soon as she woke up, she escaped.

That explained her appearance, at least. But...what kind of monster was this boy she spoke of?

“Which town are you from, little wanderer?” Beom asked her, sitting down in the chair to the girl’s right as she listened to the story and made sure she drank all of the magic tea.

“It’s not too far from here,” she said, both of her hands wrapped around the mug to put warmth back into her fingertips. “It’s just on the outskirts of the forest.”

“That’s the one Joshua’s from, isn’t it?” Soomin asked, listening to the conversation as Oliver prepared the couch for their visitor to sleep on.

The girl perked up, head whipping around to look at the werewolf, “Joshua?”

Oliver’s eyebrows furrowed, stopping what he was doing to look toward the kitchen, studying the girl, “Do you know him?”

Then it clicked in Beom’s head.

With a soft smile, the old woman brushed a strand of damp hair away from the girl’s face, “What’s your name, little wanderer?”

“Lilly.”

Then Oliver caught on, his golden eyes snapping to look at Beom with urgency in them, “Should I call for the pack?”

Beom only sat back in her chair, “He’ll be here soon.”

Which was true. As soon as Lilly woke up, Joshua would’ve felt the pull to her again, and Beom guessed that feeling the pull so suddenly once again would’ve woken him from even the deepest slumber. It had been years since he felt it, and he would be done waiting around to go back for her.

Sure enough, they soon heard, “Josh, slow down” being called outside.

The front door flew open, Joshua being the first inside. His black hair was dripping wet and hanging in his face, and he seemed to be in his pajamas since he only had pants on. His golden eyes almost immediately locked on Lilly sitting in the kitchen, and even though Beom and Oliver knew the girl was his mate without needing to see him look at her, it was absolutely solidified seeing the way he changed seeing her for the first time in so long.

“Josh!” Lilly cried, leaping up from the chair and running straight for Josh.

Any average person would’ve fallen over with the force she ran into his arms, but Josh hardly even stumbled as his warm arms wrapped around her waist.

The few of the pack that followed him there finally walked in, looking much like he did. Their eyes landed on the scene in front of them, seeing Joshua holding an unfamiliar girl so tightly, they were sure they’d fuse together. She was crying into his shoulder as he sniffled and let silent tears slide down his cheeks.

Josh didn’t even think twice about the only words he said. He thought he was never going to see Lilly again after the pull to her disappeared, and his emotions and thoughts were running so wild that he couldn’t form any other sentences. But this one summed up how he felt pretty well, anyway.

“I love you, Lilly. So much. I’m never letting you go again.”

Jihoon looked over at Beom, pointing at the couple in front of him, silently asking if this was the girl Beom had told him about behind Joshua’s back. Beom simply nodded with an almost smug smile.

It took a little bit for the two to calm down and let go, but even then, Josh was always touching her somehow. That actually became a habit when they were around each other, but nobody could blame them.

“It’s been about 60 years since you vanished,” Joshua had told her softly when Lilly had made a comment about not seeing him for ‘a few years’. “Actually, I think it’s been 64 exactly.”

Lilly stopped, eyes wide and mouth agape. They’d kept her sleeping in a basement for 64 years? She knew it was at least a few, but she didn’t think it was that long!

“For what it’s worth,” Joshua began with a playful smile, still holding both of her hands in his as her body was still cold from being lost outside in the rain, “you don’t look a day over nineteen.”

“Well...I’m technically not yet,” she realized. “They did that to me just before my birthday. I’m still eighteen.”

“No, you’re eighty-two,” Jihoon deadpanned before Seungcheol whacked him in the arm and scolded him for being rude.

Lilly was quick to adjust to her new life, though. It was easy with Joshua by her side, but she took a liking to the wolves very quickly -- and Soomin also became quite attached to the older girl since the only people she had in her life were an old woman and a pack of male werewolves. Lilly stayed at Beom’s with Josh for the first night, but Jeonghan had a big mouth and told the pack everything that had happened at Beom’s. By the next morning, everybody knew about this secret mate Joshua apparently had but never spoke of.

The younger wolves seemed the most interested in her, but everybody seemed to love her. She easily stepped up to the role of playing ‘pack mother’ even though it wasn’t a position she necessarily had to take, and like an older sister to Soomin. It was just something that seemed to naturally come to her.

There was a difference in Joshua, she noticed. If she thought Josh was mischievous as a regular human boy, he was down-right bad as a werewolf. He was reckless and thrill-seeking, but frankly, the things he did were pretty dangerous. He had a bad temper, especially after shifting, and it was hard for even Lilly to keep him in control.

A few years went by, and things stayed the same. Lilly took care of the pack like they were her kids, and the pack took care of her in return. Joshua got himself in just as much trouble just like Lilly remembered, but because he was a werewolf now, she found herself tending to more and more wounds of his than necessary.

Joshua was the type that didn’t think about repercussions or even if his actions would affect others. But after that day, he was different. It wasn’t just the awful depression that changed him, it was what he’d done that changed him. He wasn’t reckless anymore, and he wasn’t as carefree. He had become careful, but still kept his snarky “I don’t care” attitude. Because he really didn’t care. Without Lilly, he didn’t care at all.