#but yes semicircle eyes...

[pinky-lemon]

the best kind of eye-shape duo

(original prompt(?) by crying_anabell on twitter!)

[superficialdomina]

Down Under - Part 4

Word count: 2.9k

Part 2 Warnings: 18+; minors DNI. SMUT! Smutty smut! Masturbating (F). Orgasms (F). Thigh riding. Effects of sex-infection (and the inherent dub-con). If you want to avoid any of this, stop reading when we go to bed 😅

Part 3

Series masterlist

Image credit

Part 4

There wasn’t much to do, since you didn’t have much in the way of gear. You gathered a pile of firewood, then pulled large armfuls of bracken out of the bush to fashion a makeshift bed. It would hardly be comfortable, but it might be an improvement on the hard ground. While Loki arranged wood and stones into a campfire shape, you began collecting handfuls of dry leaf and twig.

“What are you doing, Agent?”

“Um… Just getting some kindling? I think I have a flint in my pack…”

Loki gave a low chuckle. He mimed the two-handed motion of pulling back a slingshot, and aimed it at the teepee-shaped pile. As he released the invisible draw, a small fireball materialised; it flew through the air and crashed into the logs, which generously burst into flames.

“Satisfactory, yes?”

More than that, you thought lustily. Your mouth twitched as you stared after him, skin warmed by more than just the fire. That shouldn’t have been so arousing. Right?

Twilight was fully settled by now, the sun well-and-truly below the tree line. Urgent tasks complete, the two of you seated yourselves on one side of the campfire, watching the dancing yellow-and-orange that licked up into the darkening sky.

“Are you hungry?” Loki asked.

Starving, you realised. “I already ate everything I was carrying.”

���Mmm,” he said, feigning consternation. With another graceful flourish of sparks, he produced a small loaf of dark, dense bread, and some hard cheese. You immediately began to salivate.

“Loki, you’re brilliant!”

His mouth curled, then he cleared his throat. “It is nothing. If we were better equipped,” he continued, as he hacked off chunks of bread and cheese with his dagger, “I would make us some lefse. But it is only truly delicious when fresh off the griddle.”

“Lefse. That’s – that’s bread, right?” you asked through a mouthful of the delicious, chewy rye.

“Tch. Is it bread.” He closed his eyes in fond memory. “If it is mere bread, it is the most soulful, delicate bread you have ever tasted; indeed, its grace and tenderness is tempered only by its humility.”

You stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. “That was very poetic, Loki.”

Loki opened his eyes to scowl at you, but his irises twinkled provocatively. “What can I say? I miss my homeland, and I am a romantic at heart.” He paused, light echoing off the semicircle of exposed skin at his neckline. “That is your second compliment to me in as many minutes.”

“I guess so.”

“Be careful, Agent – I might start to believe I am winning you over.” He chewed and swallowed another bite of cheese, and you were distracted, imagining his pretty mouth latched filthily to your nipple. “I have a small confession,” he said, settling down to gaze again at the fire. “I have visited your continent once before.”

You sat up. “What? When?”

He chuckled again. “A few hundred years ago, before the Europeans came. My mother insisted that I needed a vacation. I was interested in your wildlife… So I spent a few moons exploring it.”

“Where? Here?”

“The plains, mostly.” He smiled into the distance as he remembered. “The Wiradjuri people welcomed me to their Country; shared with me their dance and music. It was the season of ‘fat fish’; I recall we ate very well.”

You briefly hid your face in your hands. “So when I was spouting all that shit about the southern stars…”

“As I said – I am familiar.”

 “And you’ve never said anything to me?”

“I don’t believe we have ever conversed at length.”

You paused. It was true; in the time you’d known him, you’d never gone out of your way to speak to him. He was someone important, you’d always told yourself, and you were no-one. But it’s more than that, you thought, a little ashamed. You’d found him arrogant, and cold, and standoffish. Now, you thought of the way he had led you safely through each squeeze in that tunnel; he’d seen the fear on your face, and hadn’t hesitated to find a way to make it as tolerable for you as possible. And just now - I would make us some lefse���

“I… No, I suppose not.” You felt you owed him something honest in return. Or maybe it just seemed like a moment for truth-telling. “I – I didn’t want to come back. Home, I mean.”

“Oh?”

“I just… I guess I didn’t want to face some things I thought I’d left behind for good.”

His eyes narrowed knowingly. “I see. An old lover, perhaps?”

“Worse,” you made a face, “family. Family… differences.”

“Ah. I can relate.” He swallowed his last piece of cheese, then brushed his hands together to clear way the crumbs. “What was the nature of disagreement?”

 “My Dad and I… We never got along.” You paused. That was the euphemism you always used – ‘we didn’t get along’. You let go of a deep breath. “He – he hated me, I think. Hated all women, maybe. But he especially hated that I wanted more from life than his shitty fishing village. That I went to university, wanted a career. That it wasn’t my life’s ambition to just… sit around fetching his beer and cleaning up after him.”

His face was almost impassive; only a hint of sadness in his eyes betrayed his pity.

Your eyes were stinging. “The last Christmas I went home, he was on at me, worse than usual. Ungrateful, failure, ruining my life, blah blah. My mum made, like, a token effort to pacify him, but I think she resented me, too. And I just realised – I’d had enough of him. Fuck him. And I - I left. And I didn’t really think I’d ever come back.”

“And now?” he asked quietly. “How does it feel to be home?”

“Complicated,” you said, reluctant. When he waited for more, you added, “I’d forgotten how much it’s a… a part of me.”

You caught his eye, then quickly looked away. It was all too alluring; the firelight, the secrets shared. The carved lines of his Adonis belt above those Goddamned moleskins, which were revealed each time he raised his arms…

You had wanted to ask him if he would repeat his trick from a few nights ago; to cast his illusion and open the sky for you again. But it felt too vulnerable. Too intimate, now that he knew what it meant to you. Too tempting.

So instead, you stood, brushing the grass from your pants. “Thank you for the meal, Loki. And for… listening. I’m going to get some sleep.”

“Good night, Agent.”

“Night.”

The scene was vague, as though watched through a dense fog. Your skin was hot with desire. There were hands… mouth… And him. Nothing more or less than shadows and touch, but you knew he was there. Loki, his name appeared on your lips. Loki. And then, crystal clear, a vision of his perfect, pale ass sinking beneath the surface of the water…

“Ngguuuh,” you groaned, waking just as you were about to cross the precipice into an inevitable wet dream. You quickly slipped a hand into your underwear, chasing release. A few circles of your swollen clit were enough to push you over the edge; with a muffled cry, you came hard into your hand.

You lay back, breathing as heavily as if you’d just run to the summit. A twinge of shame rattled you. Loki. You should’ve nipped those lusty thoughts of him in the bud. The imaginary Cosmo headline flashed through your mind: ‘So you had a sex dream about a teammate?’

The thought made you chuckle out loud, then quickly clamp your free hand over your mouth. Oh God, I hope he didn’t hear… Anything. You listened carefully for a few moments, but Loki didn’t stir; relieved, you rolled over to let sleep reclaim you.

But it didn’t. Squirming a little, you noticed the ache still tugging at your sex. Am I still up for it? That was surprising. Usually in the case of such a dream, one quick orgasm was enough to put you straight back to sleep. Sometimes you didn’t even wake up for them.

You slid your hand back down into your underwear, legs falling open as though in invitation to yourself. You moved more slowly this time. Your fingers traced the sensitive skin at the crease of your thigh, drawing random patterns that tickled and warmed and excited. They crept inward, fingertips running over the moistened lips, collecting slippery arousal and carrying it up to ghost over your clit once more. Again, repeating the circling pattern: thigh, dip, slick, clit. Each time a little deeper, a little firmer, a little more.

The warm night carried the scent of your arousal to your nostrils, and you brought your free hand up under your shirt to palm your breast. Your nipple hardened at the faintest graze; you spread your fingers, catching the stiff, peaked skin between them. You gasped softly at the instant pleasure, electricity zipping from this newly activated erogenous zone straight to your parted thighs. Your two hands worked in symphony, strumming your nipple and clit in perfect time, and your hips circled and bucked of their own accord.

The dull ache became an urgent summons, and you moved your hand from your breast to sink your fingers into your own needy cunt. So wet, you thought hotly, the realisation spurring you on. You spread and curled your fingers; felt them fill you, seeking that soft, precious place of pleasure within. You began to pump them, slowly at first, then faster, in perfect, filthy rhythm. Your dominant hand still rubbed at your clit; still dipped inside you again and again to bring up hot, liquid pleasure, allowing your fingers to glide and slip, faster and harder, over that swollen little bud. You were slick and sticky with your own generous arousal.

“Ngguuuuuuuaah,” you moaned aloud. So close. Your eyes were closed, mouth open and panting as your hips jerked up into your hand. You were beyond caring if Loki heard you, if anyone heard you. “Just a little… more…”

And as though the thought of his name had summoned him, Loki’s long, lean body appeared in your imagination once again. Loki wading out into the pool, his dark hair fanned out across the water. Loki’s pretty, pale face in your hands, your legs around him under the surface, the invitation clear in his mischievous, twinkling eyes. Loki, beneath you, sinking into you as you sat astride him, riding his infamous cock, which twitched as he unloaded into you –

“Fff-uh… oh, ffuhhck-k,” you gasped at last, your body seizing up and trembling as you pushed yourself into a strong, extended climax. Ten, twenty, thirty seconds, wave after powerful wave pulsed through you, abs and teeth and toes clenched in pleasure. Until finally, spent, your hands fell heavily away, flopping boneless to the ground, and you could shakily draw breath again.

And in that moment of post-orgasm clarity, you remembered. The crash of breaking glass. Spattered aerosols of ugly, pink fluid. A rush of stale air as the mask slipped from your mouth. Is that what’s happening to me?

The sheen of sweat was still fresh on your skin when you felt the soft pulse of desire again - and you knew for certain what was going on.

Fuck, you thought. Fuck. I have to tell Banner his antifungals don’t work.

You were floating on your back in the plunge pool, your naked skin lit by a sliver of late-risen moon and soothed by the cool water. You concentrated hard on each breath: inhale, 2, 3, 4… exhale, 2, 3, 4...

Your body felt as though it were humming; an ebb and flow of desire that sang in your blood. You’d lost count of the number of times you’d rubbed and fingered yourself to orgasm; each climax brought temporary relief, but every time the thrumming need returned, stronger than before. Maybe if you could put it off as long as possible… But you knew there was no resisting it forever.

You heard the splash Loki made as he waded in to you, but you didn’t raise your head. It was only once he reached you that you opened your eyes to see his beautiful face, etched with concern. The water reached his waist; the milky skin of his bare, muscular torso glowed faintly in the moonlight.

You concentrated harder on breathing.

“Agent? What’s wrong?”

Inhale. “I think I’ve… been infected.”

Loki was calm. “Have you alerted the others?”

“Yes.” Exhale. “I called and called until I woke them. I had to tell them that the antifungals don’t work. They – they found a sample. They’ve got an idea for a treatment.” You steeled yourself for what you had to say next; it was made all the harder by the proximity of his long, lean body.  “Loki, you should go. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me, but I don’t think you’re safe here… with me.”

He chuckled shortly. “I believe I can fend you off, mortal.”

“I’m serious, Loki. It’s taking all my concentration now to not grab you and… and…” Even in your current state of arousal, you had to pull that thought back. You tried again. “We don’t know how it spreads. What if I infect you?”

“Our good Doctor believes I am immune.”

“Yeah, but he thought those pills would work.”

“Agent, I am not leaving you,” he said with finality. “You heard the outcome for the people of the village; lives lost through malnourishment. Not to mention your obvious inability in this state to defend yourself from enemy attack.” He softened. “If I must force you to drink in order to remain hydrated, I will; but I will not leave you alone here.”

You took another deep, shaky breath. “I… OK. Thank you, Loki. I’ll – I’ll try to keep it together.” I hope, you added silently.

 “Are you in pain?”

“No… it doesn’t hurt.” The thrumming in your sex rose another notch, screaming for attention; each sentence was more difficult than the last. “Just this… urge. Like this deep hunger, or - something. And then I – come – and there’s relief for a bit, but… Then it starts building again… And it’s so… strong… Nngaah.” You gave in to it, hands moving of their own accord, the need to touch yourself overpowering. But the movement disrupted your star-float, and you found yourself thrashing wildly in the water instead.

“Shhh, it’s OK. I’ve got you.” Loki’s hands were on your bare skin, pulling you towards him in the dark water, stilling you against his broad chest. He was wet and slippery, but firm; your fingers pressed into his shoulders hard in desperation. You were almost sobbing with need.

You felt his knee pry your legs apart below the water. With his hands on your waist, he skilfully manoeuvred you, setting you down on his thigh. You felt the wet satin of his boxers against your naked skin, the thin fabric doing nothing to disguise the solid ridge of femur that now slotted between your legs.

“Is that better?”

You couldn’t make words. Stop it! you screamed silently at yourself. He’s the fucking Prince of Asgard! But the temptation was too great; you could only gasp with relief as the hard muscle met your bare pussy, involuntarily squeezing his thigh between yours. His strong hands held your hips steady, keeping you frozen in place, until you whimpered pathetically.

“Loki… I’m sorry…”

He softened his grip, his shoulders flexing gently, guiding you as you rolled your hips to move against him. The friction, the pressure; it was better in that moment than any touch you could have given yourself. You ground down against him, greedily rubbing your clit across the length of his endless thigh. More, please more. Even in the water of the pool, you could feel the slick arousal that you were trailing over him.

The world around you faded. Your eyes were closed now, the better to concentrate on the bliss of his hard quadriceps muscle against your desperate cunt. Faster. Harder. You moaned aloud when his hand, no longer needed at your hip, moved to roughly palm your breast. You arched your back, pressing into his hand as he caught your air-hardened nipple between the soft pads of his fingers. He pinched and tweaked, sending little bolts of pleasure to your sex, where he continued to meet each of your rolling thrusts against his rock-hard thigh.

You could feel your next climax building like a rising tide; slow, steady, relentless. You whimpered again.

“Please… More…”

And with a surge of arousal, you felt his lips close around your nipple. You opened your eyes to watch as his tongue generously swirled and strummed. His own eyes were closed, his dark eyelashes fanned against his pale skin, his cheeks hollowed as he sucked hard, drawing you further into his mouth, as though he would never have enough. It was utterly beautiful.

The thrum in your sex rose to a deafening crescendo. Wild, messy, you ground down hard against the mass of his thigh; he pressed back against you, thick and taut and powerful, his pretty mouth still coaxing sparks of pleasure from your nipple. You threw back your head as you came, crying out into the night.

Then you collapsed into his arms.

Part 5

Tags in comments xx

[lilyinavalley]

Intimacy

NSFW! - Explicit

Sylus x reader Ao3 Ao3 versione italiana Contents! Romantic fluff, use of honey and oils during sex [Masterlist]

On the top of a solitary hill there was a man, he was sitting on the dry grass, its yellowish stems stung his bare feet.

The hill was completely covered by brambles, not even the man was spared, they twined around his limbs, his horns and also his tail, the thorns pierced his flesh and blood dripped out slowly.

Nonetheless he didn’t show any sign of pain, his expression was serene and his eyes were shut closed, it was as if he was sleeping, but he wasn’t.

He was waiting.

On that lonely hilltop, where time never seemed to pass, he became a prisoner of death, who patiently waited to be freed.

He only had one certainty, it didn’t matter how long he would have to wait, because he was sure, that one day, the unbreakable bond he shared would bring his split soul back to her, as it belonged.

So it didn’t matter if he had to sit there for years, centuries or millennia, because in the end, he would find her again.

The winter outside Linkon was way colder and harsh, the snow hadn’t stopped since morning.

She was sitting in the niche window of a wooden chalet, a mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream in her hands, keeping them warm.

“You’re already up”

A sleepy voice came from behind her, apparently the ever so generous owner of the house decided to wake up.

“Yeah, did you look at the time?”

She turned her head while taking a spoonful of cream to her lips, a joking expression on her face. Sylus hummed softly and looked at the cuckoo clock on the wall, the hour hand was almost at the eleven and as the seconds hand reached the 12 a carillon music invaded the room: on the centre of the clock there were 3 little windows, one in the middle, slightly bigger, and other two on its sides. The small ones opened together and from the right window came out a small parade of wooden figures that danced in couples, tracing a semicircle to reach the left one. As soon as the dance reached its end, the window at the center opened with a bang, a small cuckoo rushed forward and sang three times, after that, it retuned inside and there was silence once more.

“See, as usual you woke up early!”

She said with an ironic tone and chuckled a little.

“If you want some chocolate I left some in the pot on the counter, the whipped cream’s in the fridge”

With a naughty grin on his face Sylus approached her, dipped a finger in the cream and then smeared it on the corner of her lips.

“Ops, you’re dirty here”

He got closer and closer, leaning on the bench she was laying on with a knee.

He caressed her cheek with the back of his clean hand and then raised her head gently holding her by the chin.

He kissed the tip of her nose, her cheekbone and then he slowly licked away the whipped cream. He distanced himself just enough to look at her in the eyes.

“This is much better, sweetie”

“Silly”

She put down her mug and held his face with her hands.

“I love you” she whispered.

His eyes softened and she captured his lips in a gentle kiss, swallowing the words he was about to say.

“Do you have any plans?”

She said with a luscious gaze, a remain of the sweetness they just exhanged.

“Yes, actually, will you indulge me for today?”

“Well, sure but I want to take you to a place first”

Sylus chuckled and got up, having reaquired her personal space, she took her chocolate again and took a sip.

“My kitten’s getting bolder and bolder by the day”

“I told you, Hunters don’t like being passive”

The snowmobile was speeding through the trees, the way ahead was cloudy as they were going up the mountain, the freezing wind felt like thin blades on their skin.

The woman drove skillfully with Sylus hugging her tightly from behind.

“How long is it going to take?”

Sylus half-shouted in her ear, trying to defy the loud noise of the engine.

“I didn’t take you for the impatient type”

“I’m not indeed, but your audacious driving’s making me”

He said while holding her a little more tightly.

She turned her head sideways to meet his eyes for a second.

“Don’t tell me the big bad Onychinus’ leader is scared”

“Look. Forward. Kitten.”

Sylus said with concealed urgency.

She turned her head and avoided a fir that was getting too close smoothly.

“Everything’s under control, hold tight and enjoy the ride”

He refrained from answering.

Once they reached the top of the mountain, it was no longer possible to see the landscape below. The rugged terrain had been replaced by a plain of white clouds, from which only a few peaks managed to break through and touch the blue sky.

"Here we are, we’ve arrived. Did you enjoy the journey?" The woman asked with a wry tone. Sylus looked at her with a smirk and raised an eyebrow. "Absolutely, sweetie"

In front of them stood a sort of house carved into the rock, with its only wall facing outward made entirely of darkened glass. "Come on, let’s go in."

She took his hand, and together they entered through the black glass door. Once inside, it seemed as if the exterior blended seamlessly with the interior. "Cool, right?"

The little house consisted of a spacious room with a king-sized bed and a small bathroom. The lit fireplace was enough to warm the tiny dwelling.

Sylus moved closer and closer to her until she was seated on the soft white duvet. However, she was not one to be intimidated and, as soon as she could, she pulled him closer by the collar of his heavy snow jacket.

"This room doesn’t leave much to the imagination. Are we here to do what I think?"

On the nightstand next to the bed there were small colorful bottles containing various scented oils, and on the other side, an open jar of honey with a wooden honey dipper already inside.

"Do I really need to answer that?"

The hand on his collar moved to the zipper, and with a decisive motion, she pulled it down, revealing a black turtleneck underneath. She slipped her hand beneath the garment and traced his chiseled abs with her cold fingers. "I’ll take that as a yes."

Sylus didn’t wait any longer. He gently laid her back on the bed, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss as he began removing her heavy winter clothing, leaving her in her lingerie. At that point, before she could catch her breath, he moved to her neck, leaving a trail of light kisses, and then pulled away entirely to undress himself.

Now left only in his boxers, he looked down at the woman lying before him. His gaze couldn’t help but fall on the red lace set she was wearing—sensual without being too provocative. "Do you like it?" She asked in a sultry tone, sliding her fingers over a strap and lowering it just enough without revealing too much of her chest. "Very much, but don’t take away the pleasure of letting me remove it."

He grabbed the hand that was lowering her bra, and brought it to his lips. His crimson eyes lit up as he leaned down to her navel. A faint moan escaped her lips, and as he moved upward, only a breath separated them. Goosebumps had caused the baby hair on her skin to tickle his chin.

When he reached her sternum, he grabbed the honey dipper, dripping with thick liquid, and let it pour over her chest. The woman shuddered slightly at the contact with the cold substance.

The difference in temperature didn’t last long, though, as the warmth was restored by the man’s tongue. "Delicious. Would you like to taste it too?"

He returned to devouring her lips without mercy, and as their tongues intertwined, the honey passed to the girl’s mouth. When they parted, she licked her lips to remove the residue. "Too sweet for my taste"

Sylus rose gently and, with one hand, unclasped her bra, sliding it off her arms and tossing it to the floor. He grabbed the honey dipper again, this time using it on both of her hardened nipples.

He began to suck on them incessantly, alternating with gentle bites. The woman’s mind was completely clouded by desire; her wide eyes could no longer focus on anything, and her head spun from the intense pleasure the man was giving her.

Then he went lower again, and when he slipped a finger under the lace of her panties, she stopped him.

“Slow down a bit. It takes two to tango you know?”

Catching him by surprise, she reversed their positions. Now she was in control. She grabbed a purple bottle from the nightstand and brought it to her nose.

“Mmm, bergamot. Let’s try this one.”

She tilted the bottle slightly, letting the oil drip in a thin line onto his chest. After pouring a generous amount, she spread it with her hands, thoroughly massaging every inch of his abdomen. Then, she moved lower, pulling down his boxers.

His member was already fully erect, with a bead of precum trailing down its tip. The woman ran her oiled hands down his thighs, and finally, she wrapped them around him.

Sylus surrendered to the mattress, his breathing now ragged. When he was about to reach his limit, he took back control, pinning her beneath him once again and swiftly removing her panties. He kissed her lips, her neck, her collarbones, her breasts, her stomach, and then her femininity.

She moaned, letting go of all inhibitions, clutching tightly to the man’s shoulders and leaving nail marks on his pale skin.

Her throbbing core was driving her mad, her heart pounding relentlessly against her ribs.

When she was about to reach her peak, she called his name in a breathless voice, and Sylus moved back up. He took both of her hands, interlocking their fingers, and captured her lips in a confirming kiss, which she returned.

A smothering heat filled her abdomen. He began to move slowly and precisely, their breaths syncing. Gradually, his pace increased, becoming more intense.

He never took his eyes off her, not even for a second. Every single thrust was measured to hit her favorite spots, adjusting his rhythm based on her expressions. His every action was to fuel his beloved’s pleasure.

“Sylus…”

“… Is something wrong?”

“Thank you… for always indulging me.”

“Kitten, you don’t need to thank me. Every desire of yours is mine as well. Whatever you wish to do, I wish to do too, and every will of yours is also mine.”

There is no love purer than mine.

They smiled at each other and exchanged a chaste kiss. Then, they reached their peak together.

She fell asleep shortly after; the sun was still high in the sky, and snow drifted slowly to the ground.

Sylus remained awake, lying on his side and watching the peaceful face of his beloved.

Nothing will ever separate us again

He thought to himself, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face.

[dollwrites]

2-Hellsing Alucard or

7-Luke Valentine

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!human!reader, exhibitionism mention, technically sex worker!reader, fingering, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗯𝗹𝘂𝗿𝗯𝘀 ∣ prompt # two // sex in front of a big window where anyone could glance up and see them

“Humans truly are fickle, aren’t they?” a wicked, bubbling chuckle rises from the depths of Alucard’s throat, and you can feel his fangs against the shell of your ear. you had to wonder if he was working hard to resist the temptation of biting you, or perhaps it was a simple act of self restraint, as one might if their belly is full from dinner but a big slice of chocolate cake is placed in front of them— after all, ghoulifying his favorite, little plaything wasn’t ideal. long, slender digits comb through your damp tendrils, razor nails nipping at your scalp. “Usually so eager for me, and yet right now I can feel a fiery blush on your skin.”

you were so warm; a wet, little heater pressed between his icy bare flesh and the cool glass of the window that stood taller than you. the moon was out, unencumbered by a cloudy night, and poured silvery glows over the way your breasts smashed against the glass.

“Someone will see…” you whisper— and your breath fogs the window in a small semicircle around where your cheek and lips are kissing it. “Someone will see me—“

“And?” Alucard laughs again, amused by your sudden shyness. the curve of his devilish grin smears along the side of your jaw, careening over your neck and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “Someone might look up and see this, yes. In fact, I’m almost certain they will. And they will see you, writhing and pinned, with my fingers toying your pretty, human cunt.” it’s a hiss of promise, and his other hand slips around your waist and over your belly, straight to your core. your legs spread wider, even as you balance on your tip-toes, allowing him access to your sex. the pads of his fore and ring finger plant themselves against your folds to spread them, exposing your throbbing bud for his middle finger to flick slowly at, relishing in the way you jerk and jump with each pass of pressure. “No one here will be surprised to find us like this, my dear. After all, were you not appointed to this very position by the Organization itself?”

“Well, yes, but—“

“‘But…’” he repeats the word with a taunting lilt. he purses his lips, kissing your neck with startling gentleness. “You’re a modest, little thing, and you don’t want your peers to look down on you, right?” sheepishly, you tilt your head and allow him better access, subtly nodding in response to his question as you do so. “Is a soldier looked down upon for killing?” he poses the question, his middle finger pressing against your clit like a pulsing button, and you let out a soft gasp.

“N—no—“

“A painter, for painting?”

“Nuh uh…” it was getting difficult to answer him, the pressure hard as he rubs the bundle, and his long, sharp nails pet and scrape at your slick, threatening to slice your skin. they don’t, as they’re attached to svelte fingers, but the thought still sends a shiver creeping up your spine.

“Of course not,” Alucard murmurs, his mouth gliding its way back up your neck and across your cheek. at this moment, he uses the grip on your hair to encourage your head with a nudge to turn so that he may stare directly into your eyes with his own crimson ones, burning with passion. his lips tease as they hover inches from yours— and your breath lands upon them only to ricochet back into your face. locked in a passionate stare with a devil such as Alucard was a death wish for anyone else, but you were different. “Just as a toy isn’t looked down upon for being played with.” his grin curls up, revealing more of his jagged fangs, making your heart beat faster, and he presses his mouth against yours in a devouring kiss, but one that is much too brief for your liking. you’d so much rather be smothered to your end by his lips and tongue. when he pulls away, just enough to allow you to breathe, the digit rubbing your clit inches down, prodding at your clenching hole. you were already prepared for him, and all it took was a little heavy petting and some nasty words. “Besides,” his voice is a mocking, yet affectionate baritone, “what with all the screaming, the begging, the crying out my name in what could only be pleasure, do you really think anyone in this building is oblivious to how thoroughly I use you?”

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

"dance recital" - hotch x mom!reader!

your family attends your daughter's dance recital

1480 words, domestic family fluff

cw: none? unless u hate kids then don't read this xD

a/n: i am looking at requests and actually have a couple of them started! inspiration just struck and i needed dance dad hotch xD plz keep sending requests i love getting them

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

Lizzy had been practicing for weeks, at home, in the car on the way to school, even in the waiting room at the dentist’s office. If there was a free moment, she was up on her toes, practicing her dance routine.

When she turned four, she was so excited to sign up for dance class, and now her very first recital is later today. She takes it very seriously, and you attribute that entirely to her hardworking father. 

You’re standing in the kitchen, packing the picnic lunch you’ll be sharing as a family after her recital in the park. PB&J, no crusts, for Jack. Even though he’s nearly ten and he should be eating his crusts, you can’t help but to baby him a little. He’s been such a good big brother to Lizzy. You were anxious about that when you were pregnant with her, since Jack was so used to being the only kid. And there would always be the looming presence of Haley and the family he was a part of before you came along.

But Lizzy became the center of Jack’s world when she was born. He’s so doting and always playing with her, from when she was an infant to now. 

Nutella and peanut butter sandwich for Lizzy, because she has a sweet tooth just like her mother. Turkey and cheese for you and Aaron. “D’you want mayo, honey?” You call out to wherever Aaron is in the house. He was in the living room just a few minutes ago, but with your two crazy kiddos, he could have ended up anywhere. 

“Just the mayo, no honey,” Aaron jokes and nearly makes you jump as he enters the kitchen, padding silently behind you despite being the largest person in the house. Must be that fancy tactical FBI stealth training. 

He stops at the counter, leaning against it and facing you. Your eyes meet his and his voice is low when he speaks to you. “You need to make a big deal out of this,” he prefaces, nodding to the doorway. You don’t fully know what he’s talking about, but you understand enough, so you set your butter knife down and turn around to face the doorway. Aaron makes a drumroll on his thigh. “Come on in, kids!” 

Jack enters first, in a bright orange t-shirt that is definitely a size too big. Written in blue, puffy fabric paint, no doubt by Jack himself, are the words PROUD BIG BRO. Jack’s also holding Lizzy’s hand, escorting her into the kitchen. She’s in her violet tutu and has her hair up in two haphazardly pulled-back pigtails that could only be described as the work of her father. She’s walking on her tiptoes, with her free hand arched up in a semicircle shape, mimicking all the ballerinas in her books. 

You’re beaming, and take the sight in silently for a moment before bursting into uproarious (for one woman) applause. “You guys look so great!” You exclaim, grinning at the kids, and then back at your husband. He’s got this sly look on his face and you want to smooch it off. “When did you make this shirt?” You ask Jack, stepping forward and grabbing his face with both of your hands. You kiss his forehead and ruffle his hair.

“Dad and I did it while you were at the store last night,” Jack explains. 

“I love it, baby,” you tell Jack, and he beams. You stroke the apples of his cheeks with your thumbs before releasing him. 

Lizzy lets go of her brother’s hand and leaps for you. “My big girl is all dolled up for her first recital,” You lift her up, hugging her close. “Did Daddy do your hair for you?” you ask.

“Yes! He sang our song and I didn’t cry!” she says. You always sing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star to Lizzy while you brush her hair because she’s very tender-headed. It makes your heart soar to learn that Aaron did it, too. 

“I’m so proud of you!” You kiss Lizzy’s face all over until she squeals and wriggles to get away. “Why don’t you guys go play in the living room for a little bit, and we’ll get going soon,” you suggest. Jack races Lizzy into the living room, leaving you and Aaron in the kitchen alone. 

“You did her hair,” you say as you smirk up at Aaron. 

“Yeah, I know. It's not as good as when you do it,” he settles back against the counter and you roll your eyes. He’s holding his palms out, wiggling his digits. “I’ve got sausage fingers, and she cries if you pull the twist-tie too hard. It’s heartbreaking.” 

“And you made a shirt with Jack,” you say, ignoring his self-deprecation. Your smirk has turned into a full-force, Category Five Grin. 

Aaron realizes what you’re doing as you inch a little closer. He takes your wrist delicately, tugging you toward him, and you kiss his lips three times in succession, each a quick thank-you for all he’s done. “You’re the one driving her to classes twice a week,” Aaron deflects. “And Jack to school, and to soccer practice, and doing all the shopping and-“

“Aaron,” you roll your eyes in warning. You hate when he butters you up like this. You’re just doing your job, just like he is when he’s away on cases. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” he holds his hands up in defense, and you snatch them like they’re precious jewels. You kiss him again, this one longer and lingering. 

You finish packing your family’s lunch into the cooler. Lizzy’s recital is at a small amphitheater in the park, and after you drop her off with her teacher backstage, you and your boys find a good spot on the green to set up your picnic blanket. 

Aaron makes this small grunt when he squats to sit down on the ground and you hold back a snicker. Jack does not read the room and calls him an old man. 

You’re giggling as you sit down, Aaron tugging you to sit between his legs. You affectionately run your hand through Jack’s hair a few times before the first class comes up onto the stage. 

You watch the first class, and the second, clapping politely. Then, the four-and-five-year-olds are announced, and you are on your feet immediately. You hear a bit of rustling and Jack and Aaron are standing up, too. You grin when you see Lizzy with the other little kids, holding the hands of the boy in front of her and the girl behind her as they all walk in a line. 

Their dance is simplistic and whimsical and joyful, set to a light, poppy tune that makes you think of spring. You’re grinning and watching Lizzy float across the stage. She’s not the most graceful, but she hits every move at the right time.

You hear rustling behind you and turn over your shoulder to see Aaron and Jack subtly performing the dance with the class. They’re not moving nearly as dedicatedly as the group on stage, but they’re helping Lizzy from the audience. It’s so sweet you want to cry. 

When Lizzy’s group is finished, the three of you on the lawn explode in applause. Aaron wolf-whistles behind you and Jack is cheering, “that’s my sister!” 

After the other classes go, you’re allowed to head back and pick up Lizzy. She’s giggling with the other kids in her class, but she freezes and grins like it’s Christmas morning when she sees you. 

“Mommy!” she squeals, and runs to you. You lift her up off the ground in a hug and spin her around, before passing her off to Aaron. He does the same thing. “Dizzy! Dizzy!” She’s squealing, and Aaron finally sets her down. 

“Dizzy Lizzy, huh?” Aaron teases, running his thumb and his forefinger down one of her pigtails. “You did so good, sweet girl!” He was never the best at baby-talking to Lizzy, but now that she’s a little girl, he speaks to her so excitedly and she always beams when she learns her father is proud of her. 

“You got the leap at the right part!” Jack exclaims proudly, and you watch as Lizzy hugs her big brother. 

You point out the picnic blanket with the cooler and tell Jack to take Lizzy ahead to it. Jack loves being responsible, so he takes Lizzy by the hand and leads her towards your family’s setup. 

Hanging back with Aaron, you look up at him and brush his dark hair off his forehead. “You learned her dance?” you ask with a small smirk on your face. 

Aaron’s dark eyes gaze into yours and he wraps an arm around your shoulders, tugging you close to him. “She was doing it every chance she got,” he shrugs, like it’s totally no big deal. “You’re telling me you don’t have it memorized?”  

[imaginesig]

Today, Tomorrow, Forever

SMAU with writing

Nicholas Hoult x Reader

Yn and Nicholas Hoult have known each other since their Skins days, but it wasn't love at first sight. How did they go from a one sides rivalry to dream marriage in 17 years?

Movie release dates/years have been edited for the sake of the story!

Idea sent by @ateliefloresdaprimavera

2024

nicholashout with ynhoult

liked by user12, aarontaylorjohnson, ellefanning, and 902,104 others

nicholashoult 17 years ago made the worst mistake of my life, 11 years ago I had the best conversation ever, and 6 years ago I married the love of my life. I never imagined that one person could be the reason my world turns, but here she is. Happy anniversary my love ����

tagged no one

aarontaylorjohnson happy anniversary!!

elliefanning best couple ever!!

hughgrant happy anniversary! I'm so happy to have met little you and watched as you've grown into an amazing man

scarlettjohansen beautiful!!

sebastianstan 6 years is no small accomplishment, I hope its a good ones guys!

mikebailey here from the start!!

joedempsie so happy for you guys, happy anniversary!

aprilpearson most beautiful bride ever!!

user1 they're the only couple ever

user2 stop the way he looks at her 😭🤭

user3 its the fact he still looks at her the same now as in that photo

user4 Nick putting Yn first in his own post is the most Nick thing he's ever done

user5 Yn is everything and he's just Ken

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2007

N.H.

A laugh rang loud and clear across the busy set. My ears perked up at it and my eyes immediately rolled. There is only on person who has a laugh like that, a laugh that carries through the air with an annoying volume: Yn Ln. I glance towards the noise and notice a small gathering; April, Mitch, and Mike stand around with her laughing at something. Yn looks proud, so it must've been her joke.

"Oi! Nick come join us!" Mitch calls to me.

"I'm good mate, there's some lines I was hoping to review before we start filming again!" It was a lie. There were no lines, I reviewed everything exhaustively yesterday, a bunch of 'Michelle I'm sorry this' and 'Sid get laid' that. I just can't go over there. I can't imagine anything more dull than flocking around Yn and listen to whatever nonsense she spews into conversation.

"Alright we're going to pick up at scene 6. It's our last of the day so let's make it good!" Calls our director. We all fall into place, April by my side, and the others in a semicircle.

"After we're done for the day we should try that place for dinner," she says to Yn.

"Oh yes!" replies Yn with a cheery smiles. I can't help but scoff under my breath.

Y.L.

Across our fake circe, over the chatter of set I hear Nicholas scoff. It stung somewhere deep in my chest and tripped up my good mood.

I was over the moon to book this gig. Like almost every actor here, Skins was my start; from here I'd book more and more until I've reached the stars. My character was an awkward, ugly duckling but she was mine and I love her. This experience has been the best things thats happened to me ever; I've made so many great friends. There is only one problem: Nicholas Hoult. He's a phenomenal actor and a wonderful guy to everyone but me.

I can't recall what I've done over the past months to make him dislike me; at our first read throughs we were cordial and made wonderful small talk, but as filming progressed he distances himself and always has a noise or eye roll to accompany my words. The worst part was he's cute and seeing how hardworking he is around set doesn't help the school girl crush I have for him. And the nail on the coffin? He's a gentleman and so kind to everyone else, just not me. I'm a lucky girl, I suppose; you can't please everyone, so having 7/8 actors be my friends was fine by me. Plus his negatively was only ever a stumble in the road, not a ruin to my day.

Twitter--

2024

Youtube--

comments:

user1 he's so whipped, like Yn did not need to be mentioned for The Menu quote but she was

user2 no cause why did he go on longer about her and the Skins quote than any other line

user3 I'm crying why does he remember the entire Skins line off the top of his head

user4 get yourself a man that talks good about you even when you're not there

user5 the smile he had when talking about Yn makes me wanna cry

user6 he is so in love

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2008

Y.L.

"Cheers!" A round of glasses clinking filled my ears. The core cast got together to celebrate the wrap of season 2 for Skins; we were currently tucked away in the back of some local restaurant in Bristol. I was sat at the end of the table, with Mitch on my right and Dev on my left; everyone was joking and sharing stories, it seemed every member at the table was holding at least 3 conversations. As Cassie would say, it was lovely. The warm lights reflected off of the wooden table and casted a gentle glow on everyone, including Nicholas at the other end of the table. We made eye contact as the table erupted into a roar at something Kaya said; I felt my cheeks burn with the stretch of my smile, but Nicholas's quickly turned from a bright laugh to a tight lipped smile. I rolled by eyes and chose to ignore him; I've let go any wish I had to understand his dislike of me.

I tore my eyes away from Nicholas's direction and looked around, my heart grew heavy. I am so glad we are all geared up to start new projects, but I'm so sad to see everyone separate. I hope we'd all be able to keep in touch. The conversations slowed down so I grabbed my almost empty glass and tapped on it, "Not to make this a cheesy movie moment, but I wanted to let you all know how grateful I am for Skins. Not only has this shown given us a jumping point, but its connected us all..."

N.H.

"...connected us all..." there she bloody goes, killing the mood with some dumb speech. Yn's words soon sounded like the parents from Charlie Brown. Yet, I looked forward to pretend to listen. This is the first time I've really looked at her out of character. I've gotten used to her brush out curls that would frizz out in the English humidity and the hideous fake glasses they'd put on her. All apart of the ugly duckling role she plays. Off set she looks fine, I wouldn't say anything special.

I look down and watch the condensation drip down my glass and onto the table; as the droplets raced I couldn't help but wish Yn was just a little funnier and more interesting.

2024

Youtube--

comments:

user1 they def went home and screwed after this

user2 I felt like I was interrupting something

user3 imagine having to be apart of the crew to film this

user4 Yn was way to excited there's no way Nicholas isn't getting slapped in bed at some point

user5 its the way he gave his answer away with the ask me off camera

user6 also Yn calling Nicholas instead of Nick when she asked 😭 girlie knows how to get what she wants

user7 they're both so possessive but polite

user8 I've never seen a celebrity be so comfortable and laugh (enjoyable not uncomfortable) at these, I love it

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2010

Twitter--

2011

Twitter--

2013

Twitter--

N.H.

My bed felt softer and fluffier than a cloud when I flopped into in face first. It had been a long few months; Warm Bodies finished it wrap, I went straight into auditioning for new projects, and before I could blink I was swept up into press for the movie. I'm living the dream, but sometimes I just want everything to slow down.

My eyes just fluttered closed when my phone let out rapid buzzes, one at a time. I sighed in relief when it went silent, but was quickly disappointed when it started again. I rolled over to retrieve it from the bed beside me. Messages from the old skins group chat filled my lock screen; we made it after a meet up a couple years ago, but it was only ever active on someone's birthday, that was until today. The messages informed me that our old show was trending on twitter with fans pulling old photos, clips, and interviews from our time. I smiled and replied quickly before loading up the app for a quick trip down memory lane.

...

My room slowly grew darker as hours passed. Hours have passed as I went down the rabbit hole of Twitter reminiscing; at some point I ended up clicking on different links to interviews the cast has done. The current one was Yn answering a question that I can't remember. A pit formed in my stomach, she was beautiful inside and out. Every interview I saw her in, she had nothing but praises for everyone else and took every compliment with such humility. I was in awe of her answers, despite being formed on the spot came out with the poise of a well rehearsed speech. I made a horrible misjudgment.

"Whose do I most admire of the cast? I'd have to say Nick," the guilt in my chest grew, "he's so talented that you'd think he was a pure asshole if you only watch the show. We're not the closest, but I've seen from being around him he is an absolute sweetheart. That's what makes him admirable, his absolute kick ass work as Tony while being a fantastic cast mate."

I wished she was lying, but I can tell it's all genuine. I spent those years annoyed by her and mentally tearing down this girl, but she wasn't a girl. Yn was a poised young women who was down to Earth and spent her time raising people up. She was right we weren't close, because of me, but she still through so highly of me. I wanted to hit myself, she could've been an amazing friend and I was too dumb to let go of stupid stereotypes from a fictional show to see it.

I turned my phone off and rolled over. Tonight, I fell asleep with the beautiful sound of Yn laughing in my ears.

2024

Twitter--

2013

N.H.

It was warm inside the event hall; I was currently sitting at my assigned table at the EBA Awards. I was nominated for my role as R in Warm Bodies, but seeing as I wasn't a huge name I was at the beginning of the carpet. I looked around to see other people mingling to pass the time as everyone makes their way in, but no one stood out so I stayed seated. Somewhere in the distance I heard a loud laugh; it was eerily familiar and certainly beautiful but I couldn't seem to place it. I pulled out my phone someone stopped near the table causing me to look up.

A breath got stuck in my throat as Yn Ln stood in front of me looking like a picture of perfection,"hey Nicholas! I saw you and wanted to catch up..."

Instagram--

celeb_updates

liked by user4, user1, user83, and 892,820 others

celeb_updates just days after the EBA Awards, former cast mates Yn Ln and Nicholas Hoult were seen on a supposed date! It's the first time they've been seen together/publicly interacted since the last Skins event they attended in 2008

tagged: no one

user1 omg the bad boy and good girl??

user2 we used to pray for days like these

user3 I'm thrilled with the idea of them just being friends much less ON A DATE

user4 OMG GUYS I THOUGHT I WAS CRAZY! I was hoping we'd get some content with them both attending the EBAs!!

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2017

Marie Antoinette (directed by Sofia Coppola) Premiere

X-Men: Dark Pheonix (directed by Simon Kinberg) Premiere

Instagram--

ynln

liked by user1, aprilpearson, ajcook, and 892,203 others

ynln secrets out 💍

tagged nicholashoult

nicholashoult I love you so much 🩵

ynln right back at ya 🩵

ajcook so excited!!

aprilpearson the scream I let out-- congrats guys!!

mitchhewer never saw it coming but you two work so well together!

user1 omg omg omg omg

user2 that first photo is giving total romcom vibes

user3 right?? I love the shot through the window

user4 part of me is so so excited, but another part just died because wdym Tony fell for C/N??

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2018

Instagram--

ynhoult

liked by mitchhewer, nicholashoult, larissawilson, and 928,029 others

ynhoult allow me to reintroduce myself...

tagged: nicholashoult

aarontaylorjohnson absolutely stunning bride!! Here's to a long, wonderful marriage

larrisaawilson party like no other! Many congrats

aprilpearson what a night!!! Love you both

user1 im actually crying

user2 ok my turn now...

user3 their personal cake is too cute

user4 the third picture 😭

user5 they're back in their skins party era

load more

nicholashoult

liked by mikebailey, ellefanning, hughgrant, and 893,924 others

nicholashoult today, tomorrow, forever

tagged: ynhoult

hughgrant Congratulations! I hope its a long and happy marriage

ellefanning beautiful ceremony and killer reception

mikebaily congrats mate!

user1 the polaroids of the guests are so cute

user2 between the two of them there were more famous actors as guests at their wedding than the oscars 😭

user3 I want a love like this

user4 they're so intimate its adorable

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[itstimetojellyfish]

Hello! I hope your day is going well! Could I request a angst/comfort Jiyan x reader, where Jiyan has been away on the battlefield for months. The reader is feeling extremely lonely, and when Jiyan surprises the reader with his return, he's very gentle and wholesome with them. Thank you very much! I hope this wasn't too vague.

LETS GOOOOO!!!!! Now imma go suffer and try find a picture that actually fits . Thanks !

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Missing you.( Im back) Jiyan x reader

It’s been so long since you’ve last seen your lover’s face .

The mission was only supposed to be a week , but now it’s been months .

You really miss your overworked lover… as exhausted as he can be , you vowed you would take care of him anyways .

( You forgot to protect and nurture your own heart as well)

Now you’re on the bed , just praying to see a glimpse of teal to just give you a bit of hope that your lover’s coming back from the battlefield . Then you can take care of his weary bones and make sure he feels loved.

You stare at the ceiling , trying to recall what Jiyan looks like….

Sharp features…

Amber eyes…

Teal hair….

You forgot the rest………..

YOU FORGOT THE REST.

How could you?! That was utterly ridiculous! To forget what your lover looks like?!

But unfortunately, it was true , it’s been so long …. That you can’t even remember what he looks like , only colors , you couldn’t even describe his outfit.

As you realize how useless you are you start to hiccup and cry because you didn’t think you’d be so incompetent to the point where you forgot your lover…

Before your thoughts can spiral any further down the hole of despair, something moved around , you were pretty sure no one was supposed to be up at like , 1:47 am ….

You take a robe from the closet and put it on before opening the window and peeking outside , you couldn’t see anything , the usual , grass , trees, and the midnight general , and the city-

THE MIDNIGHT GENERAL?!

You whip your head to the side to make sure you weren’t hallucinating, only to find out you probably were since he wasn’t there…

You turn around to get back in bed but to your surprise , before you can even twist your upper torso to the side , long , warm arms wrap around your waist and coddle you gently .

You manage to turn around and come face to face with your lover .

He ‘s back

Sharp eyes , the color of molten lava , look at your figure slowly , his eyes trailing up and down as he makes sure you haven’t malnourished yourself in the months that he was gone.

You stare at him dumbfounded as you realize he’s actually back and not some stupid hallucination you have .

As he looks over you , he sees the dark , semicircles punched underneath your eyes. He rubs a thumb over them before saying .

“ You didn’t sleep , did you? Were you worrying about me?” He kisses your forehead before lifting you in a bridal carry and placing you in bed

You respond in a meek tone ,” Yes… I was worried okay?! You told me it was only supposed to be 2 weeks! It’s been 5 months.”

He stares at you as tears well up in your eyes , and then gently kisses them away , hugging your smaller frame as he replies with “ I’m sorry .. the Tacet Discord waves were getting bigger and bigger..”

He looks at you for a moment , then asks you ,” How about I run us both a bath , you let me take care of you as a reward for waiting for me , and I’ll sleep with you as my reward , alright?”

You stare at him and bite your lip for a few seconds before nodding and looking up at him , eyes softening.

He gives you a sweet smile before going to the bathroom and starts to run the bath , you could hear the water gently splashing on top of itself.

He then goes to the closet and pulls out soft , silk robes for you two to wear after the bath is done .

When the bath is filled with warm water, he gently picks you up and puts you in the bath , the water overlapping .

After the bath is done and both of you are throughly satisfied, he lays you on the bed and sits on the edge .

You cling onto him before letting go and patting your side , silently asking him to get in bed with you so you both can sleep.

He slips into bed with you and gently plays with your hair as one arm wraps around you and holds you flush to his chest , reassuring you that he’s here and breathing in one piece .

Soon your eyes begin to close , but before they do you say ,” Love you ,Jiyan..”

You were too drowsy to hear the response from him , but you knew that he loved you anyways no matter what and would return to you .

He smiles when he hears what you say , and then kisses your forehead, replying with .

“ I love you too,goodnight,my dear moon.”

[saiintvalentiine]

Summary: Parrot and Wifies have a talk some time after the fallout of Parrot finding out Wifies is a clone. A follow up to Ken's POV in Part 1.

notes: this is once again not edited, this was the result of some quick writing last night and a wrap up today. it's more like practice for Parrot's voice which i think i did a shit job at but it's here and u can now judge me urself. enjoy. or dont idk. divider from here

word count: 2568. just slightly less than the previous installment.

11:49

Parrot has picked through his feathers so many times he thinks he’s developing a bald spot in his left wing. He's usually better at waiting, has patience for his plans to go through, but today there is no plan, just waiting. He stares at his comm, open in his hand as he rereads the chat over and over again.

[Wifies]: Would you be open to talking with me today?

[Parrotx2]: yes

[Parrotx2]: of course

[Parrotx2]: what’s up

[Wifies]: I was actually wondering if we could meet up.

[Parrotx2]: yeah wherever you want

[Wifies]: I’ll open up my world.

[Wifies]: How does noon sound?

[Parrotx2]: perfect

[Wifies]: I’ll send you the IP then.

[Parrotx2]: great!

Great! He sounds like a loser.

So Parrot is waiting for the clock to strike noon on his comm to go. Part of him wonders if he's going to spawn into a pit, or straight into lava, or in an escape room, something that would make Wifies feel better to watch him go through after the hell Parrot raised. Parrot would be fine with that. Honestly, he hopes Wifies is mad. He's only going to feel worse if he's met with Wifies’s carefully thought out words and blunt kindness.

11:54

He stops touching his wings. He's been trying to organize his thoughts so he doesn't say something incredibly stupid to Wifies again. There’s a script now.

I’m sorry for reacting so harshly, I was shocked and didn’t know how to process what I was hearing. I felt hurt because I thought you didn’t trust me with the truth, but now I see why you wanted to keep it to yourself. I should have never acted that way. You’re so important to me, and I should have thought about all the trust between us. I always trust you.

11:55

It’s simple, but it’s straightforward, and he wants to be as clear as possible. He also wants to be sincere, but sincerity is scary. His sincerity is blue, bruised, gushes forward like an open wound and stains the world in his blood.

11:56

But he can do sincerity. He can do it for Wifies. He could probably do a lot for Wifies, but Wifies never asks for anything. He didn’t even ask to be freed from the chunkban. He just waited. Trusted Parrot, and waited for Parrot, and was happy to see Parrot after everything. Wifies is always trusting and waiting and happy.

11:57

And Parrot ruined it for what? Catharsis for his fears? A moment to let that horrible feeling of being second, third, fourth in someone's life tear through everything he’s done? Is that even the reason why?

11:58

God. When Wifies starts asking questions, Parrot is going to crumble like a house of cards. It'll be Parrot's unjust luck to be forgiven.

[Wifies]: IP XXXXXXXXXX

Parrot jolts and almost drops his comm. He scrambles to copy the IP down and flick through his comm settings. He pastes it into the server IP box and hovers over the connect button.

12:00

He clicks connect.

Landing softly onto a carpet of podzol in a chilly spruce forest, Parrot lets out a plume of ashen breath. There are a few cabins in a semicircle in front of him, warm light spilling out of each window and from the branches of the towering spruce trees. The afternoon sun barely breaches the canopy, but it speckles the ground just enough to give the world a surreal atmosphere.

There's a campfire pit to one side surrounded by log benches, and there sits Wifies. He looks brilliant in the firelight, dark hair loose without his headband and violet eyes muted.

“Parrot,” Wifies calls out as he stands up. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Parrot says lamely, hesitating for a moment before making his way over to Wifies. The campfire warms him up, but the chill doesn't go away. “How are you?”

“It’s going to rain soon, so I’m feeling it in my joints,” Wifies says, lighthearted as he rubs one of his shoulders. “Sit with me.”

So Parrot does. He’s not in the business of denying Wifies much of anything. He sits on one end of the log bench, and Wifies sits two feet away, turned towards Parrot, and Parrot looks at him, and his mind just— it blanks. His script dissolves like salt in the sea.

“I wanted to start with saying that I am a clone of the original Wifies,” Wifies says, giving Parrot space to try and reboot his brain. “He was. . . making clones for the sake of content, and I was the most successful one. I never knew. And one day, Ken showed up to what I thought was my single player world, and. . . it’s a very long story, but he got me out of there and we, um, we killed the original. He. . . wasn’t going to let me just leave. And those are the main points of my story. I just wanted you to know the important bits before we talk further.”

“Clones for content,” Parrot echoes, eyebrows scrunching up. “Clones for content? He was— what?”

“Making clones to put them into escape rooms for quick video production.”

“The— what the fuck?”

Wifies smiles awkwardly, but doesn’t speak again. He keeps rubbing his shoulder over and over, self soothing maybe, or maybe it’s just that painful from the onset of the rain.

“I'm sorry for how I acted. I don’t care that you’re a clone,” Parrot says, flinching at his own sharpness. He looks away and into the crackling fire. “I care about you. The clone stuff is— is whatever. Or not whatever, I’ll care about it as much as you want me to care about it.”

“Parrot, don’t make me promises you know you can’t keep.”

Wifies’s voice is gentle. It is so, so gentle, with no hint of disappointment or scolding. Parrot’s stomach churns. He wishes again for Wifies’s anger, pointed and cold, instead of this. Anger is easy. This stings like salt in a wound.

“Why do you think I can’t keep to that?”

“Not knowing drives you crazy.”

“You not being there has driven me more crazy.”

“Until you forget, and it starts bothering you again.”

Parrot deserves it, but his heart is heavy and he feels like he’s been shot right through it. Wifies isn’t even being cruel, just honest; he’s right, eventually it will drive Parrot crazy to not be able to talk about the whole situation, to understand Wifies better by prying into his life.

“I don’t like talking about it. It was a bad time for me. I also don’t know everything about. . . myself. About what you’ll eventually ask.”

Parrot has to physically bite his tongue. Wifies doesn't know everything. What if he gets sick? Or badly hurt? What if he starts feeling like something is wrong, and there's nothing to be done for it, because nobody knows? What if—

“This is why I never want to tell anyone,” Wifies sighs out, curling in on himself in the corner of Parrot’s eyes. “If nothing else, just promise me you won't tell anyone?”

“Never,” Parrot says firmly. That's a promise he can keep. “I would never.”

“Thank you, Parrot.”

Their conversation tapers off. The sunlight is disappearing little by little, the promised rain clouds rolling in from far away, far above. Parrot’s feathers puff up a bit at a slight, churning breeze that cuts through the forest.

“I'm sorry, for what it's worth. For lying this whole time.”

“I see why you did. I just ended up proving why lying was the right choice. Nothing to be sorry about.”

“It's funny,” Wifies says in a voice that promises to be anything but funny. “When I'm scared, everything hurts again. I can never remember how they got here, but all the little pains come back again, like the reminder of fear should pull a memory or two up. But there's nothing. I don't remember how I hurt my shoulder this badly. I don't remember how it got fixed. All I remember is that it’s hurt forever. I don't remember a life without pain, and when this all came to light, my reality went from a life where pain existed to a life that was lived with pain.”

Rain begins to dribble through the leaves around them. The campfire hisses and sparks but doesn't extinguish, too large and hot to be daunted by such a pathetic display. The canopy is too dense for the rain to punch through in earnest.

“What are you scared of?” Parrot forces himself to ask. Please don't be afraid of me.

“Losing another part of my life to this. I can never seem to escape the factory. What a lousy escapist I've become, huh?”

Wifies pulls his feet up into the log, resting his chin on his knee and watching the fire. Parrot doesn't remember turning towards him, but he inches closer. The space between them is too large. His hand is too far from Wifies’s own.

“You don't have to lose anything,” Parrot says. “There's nothing to be lost. You can always come back to the server. Nobody there will ever know except for Ken.”

“No matter how this plays out, I lose you.”

“I'm right here. I'm right next to you, right now, what do you mean?”

Parrot feels pathetic, but he doesn't care. Wifies won't look at him, is talking about losing him like Parrot isn't about to crawl out of his skin just so Wifies won't leave him again. The rain thickens the air around them with the promise of more force, and Parrot stretches a wing over Wifies’s head without a single thought.

“You'll always think about the fact I'm a clone. I lost my status of human. I lost our relationship. It took so long for me to feel normal, and now it's all gone.”

“Wifies, look at me please.”

Wifies does. He does, because he still cares, and Parrot is going to be sick at the resigned look in Wifies’s eyes. Parrot is close enough now, so he reaches out and holds Wifies’s face in both hands. He can feel the way Wifies’s jaw works, the thrum of his slow heartbeat in his throat, the way his breathing is shallow and quick. His eyes are a little glassy, a little red, and Parrot adds another wretched tally to the list of times he's made Wifies cry.

“No matter what, you are human, okay? To me, and to Ken, and I'm sure to whoever you were talking to that day as well. Don't ever doubt that.”

Wifies’s expression softens and he just barely nods, which is a small relief for Parrot.

“All I ever think about when you're gone is when you're coming back,” Parrot says. His sincerity bleeds, red and blue smudged across each word. He’ll bleed for them, every drop if that’s what it takes. “And all I've been thinking about this whole time is how I'm going to make it up to you. How I really, really want to do whatever it takes for you to stay. I want you to stay. And not a single one of those thoughts had anything to do with whether you're a clone or not.”

Wifies breathes in. It shakes something horrible. Parrot will crawl his way back into being trusted until he has no more body to move with.

“All of those thoughts had to do with how you've always been with me. Funny, kind, snarky, quick, the only person in this world I've ever been able to close my eyes next to knowing that I've got everything I need right there. That the only way I'll ever be apart from you is by being torn. And none of that, none of it, has changed. I still think all that about you. All that's been added is that I'm an asshole who definitely doesn't deserve your loyalty, but I'm too greedy to let it go so easily.”

That makes Wifies giggle, the sound wet and cracking. Parrot presses the pads of his thumbs under Wifies's eyes. If he's going to make Wifies cry, the least he can do is clean it up too.

“The only thing I ever need you to do is believe in me,” Parrot says, pressing his lips to Wifies’s forehead. It's easier somehow to speak like this, wetness pooling against Parrot’s fingers. “Believe that I love you so much. Believe that I'm going to make this right between us. Believe that learning this has done nothing to change how I feel about you. And if you can't, please believe in me anyway.”

“Of course I believe in you Parrot,” Wifies murmurs, voice crackling. “Why else would I follow you everywhere?”

“I'm that persuasive?”

“Hardly.”

“Hey, not even a little?”

Wifies laughs. It’s a sweet sound. When Parrot pulls back to look, Wifies has his eyes closed, and he’s not quite smiling, but he’s not frowning either, which is a win. 

“You’re determined and direct,” Wifies says, letting the full weight of his head loll into Parrot’s hands. Parrot raises his other wing so they're encompassed by green and red and blue. “Which is what made me agree to help you at first. But then. . . I don’t know. You can be charming when you want to be. Not often, but on occasion.”

Parrot squawks indignantly just to hear Wifies laugh again. Wifies blinks his eyes open, and Parrot wipes away a stray tear.

“Do you know how touchy you are?” Wifies asks suddenly.

“Should I let go?”

“No, I just wonder if you know that. When you were upset, you made a real effort to not reach out. That’s how I knew it was serious.”

“Well, now you know it’s not serious.”

“Mm, this is serious too in its own way. You’re serious that you want me to stay.”

Parrot lifts Wifies’s head so that they’re eye to eye, bloodshot violet to his own green-blue blur, and says, “Deadly serious. I don’t want to be separated like this again. Knowing I had hurt you and couldn’t make it better? The absolute worst time of my life, I think.”

“It sucked,” Wifies agrees, finally cracking a smile. “It’s over now though. I think.”

“Of course it's over now, you're never allowed to leave me like that again,” Parrot scolds him entirely lighthearted and Wifies snorts.

“Don't yell at me again and I won't.”

“I won't, I'm sorry for yelling.”

Wifies laughs again, and despite the fact he's clearly reveling in having Parrot wrapped around his finger like this, Parrot can't even pretend to be annoyed. Wifies won't leave him again. It's all that matters right now. Any question or doubt dies a quiet death when Wifies reaches up to hold both of Parrot’s wrists in a loose grip.

“This is weirdly nice,” Wifies says, closing his eyes again. “I don't think anyone's ever touched my face so gently. I can't remember the feeling.”

“You just say when,” Parrot replies.

He's not being entirely selfless here— there's something soothing about running the pads of his thumbs over Wifies’s skin, like a promise that this moment is as real as when he left. Wifies can't leave him when they're like this, tangled up under Parrot’s wings under the rain.

“Then for just a bit longer,” Wifies says, and Parrot agrees. Just a bit longer.

[cultistic-ann-aka-sannaliel]

Hello, saw your post on sheeps and was wondering a few things. Do you do commissions? Do you have any huge tips or anything for drawing sheep? I've been trying to do it but can never get it right. I saw you were taking requests for Cotl characters but one of my friends has a sheep oc that isn't cotl and i was wondering if you'd do that or just cotl.

well hello!

sorry for the late reply and get ready, there will be a lot of chatter here… REALLY A LOT

1) Not yet, I don't have an adequate price list for this

2) Okay, here's what I learned: sheep always have horns that curl behind their ears (the exception is "Jacob sheep," which have four horns, one that curls behind their ears and one that goes up);

sheep have a noticeably divided upper lip, and long, drooping tails;

Sheep come in a variety of colors, depending on their breed. The most prominent colors I've seen are black, white, and several shades of brown. Their eyes are usually amber or brown (dark brown eyes can be mistaken for black), but they can sometimes be gray-green or gray-blue.

I draw the legs for the sheep in two ways, but both are made up of 4 separate parts

in the first the fourth part is the hoof; the first three parts are evenly divided in half for convenience:

I use this method to draw more stylized (or cartoonish) characters that are more removed from reality in terms of anatomy and are builded on the author's style.

For example, here is a quick sketch with a stylized lamb design that relies on the author's style and convenience. Anthea belongs to @the-artist-grimm (Sorry for the ping, it is important for me to indicate the author)

the second type is more anatomical in relation to reality, but still relies on human anatomy and style:

Each part is a kind of hinge and is responsible for movement. The previous one has one too, but since the second one looks a bit more complicated, I'll try to explain it

this sketch I have marked with circles the places that are responsible for movement

here it's more clear, to be honest it's like an app with a mannequin, where you can make virtual pose (although I haven't done that for a long time)

I mainly use human anatomy with a bit of sheep anatomy because I don't feel comfortable with completely animal anatomy (in percentage terms, human are 60%, animal are 40%. This doesn't only apply to sheep, I've extended this to several other four-legged animals)

I'm still figuring out about the sheep's muzzle myself. I mostly use a circle or rectangle to represent the head. For more cartoonish or feminine characters, a circle is perfect, and if the opposite is true, a rectangle

but again, it depends on comfort and style

for the nose bridge I use a diamond shape, its adds some debt

My style of drawing sheep wool is "airy", you could say I draw in semicircles. I also sometimes add some curls lines to give it more effect

That's all for now, since the question didn't specify what kind of difficulties you're having in drawing sheep, I told you a little bit of everything! well almost..

if you still don't understand something, you can contact me, just please tell me what exactly the difficulty is and I will tell you in more detail about it and how you could deal with it

You can write to the mailbox or to me personally

3) well… yes I can, but in this case it's better to send this request to my other blog: @sannaliel

Thank you for your question, I really hope I could help you!

[spaceorphan18]

X-Men Fic (Rogue/Gambit) : Toys

A/N: Yes, this was inspired by that clip that's been going around of Gambit's VA for XM97 playing with action figures. I cannot believe this is what I'm writing for my first real fic for this fandom. Dear lord, forgive me for the shenanigans... also, unbeta'd. I just wanted to get it out into the world and be done with it.

I'll post this tomorrow on Ao3

Rated: T for suggestiveness

Summary: Rogue catches Remy playing with toy action figures of the X-Men. Shenanigans. Set in the 616 comic verse, but some fun meta-y references to XM97

****

Toys

Upon arriving home, Rogue comes in through the open kitchen window because why bother with stairs when you can fly? It’s been a long day, a long week, a long life… All she wants to do is curl up on the couch with the cats and a trashy book and hopefully Remy’s home so she can get a back massage.  Hell, forget the book, she’ll gamble for the massage first.  Save the trashy for later.  

She grins, thinking about her husband’s warm hands on her skin.  

Remy is, indeed, home; standing at the kitchen island, his back turned towards the window, so engrossed in what he’s doing that he doesn’t hear her come in.  And what he’s doing takes her by surprise.  

The kitchen counter is covered in half open boxes, plastic containers, cardboard, and little zip ties.  There are a good, half-dozen or so action figures all lined up in a semicircle; each one of them a well detailed, classically designed replica of, well… the X-Men.  Oh, dear god, what did she walk into? 

“I’ll take ya down in one slice, bub,” Remy says, holding the Wolverine figurine in one hand, his voice low as he attempts Logan’s gruff voice.  Remy LeBeau is good at a lot of things, Rogue would be first to give you a list, but doing impressions is not one of them.  She bites her lip, fascinated to see how this plays out.  Remy grabs the Magento figurine as his voice shifts to imitate Erik.  “You incels!” Remy screams; loud, exaggerated, and carefully enunciated.  “How dare you try to take down me; the questionably dressed, ego too big for my helmet, Master of Magnetism?” 

Rogue puts a hand up to her lips, holding back an amused snort.  Oh, Remy… 

Remy loses the impression as he lunges the Wolverine figurine at the Magneto one.  The Magneto one floats away.  “You fools! Don’ you remember I control the metal?”  Shaking the Wolverine figurine violently, Remy lets out a feral scream and the figure is flung to the side, landing with a clatter in the sink.  

Magneto is discarded for a moment as Remy picks up the Scott and Jean figurines.  Scott has his hand to his visor while Jean has both her hands on the sides of her head.  “Jean! I seem to have made a tactical error,” Remy cries in Scott’s no-nonsense voice.  His voice then slides higher as he mimics Jean.  “Scott, my telepathy.  It out o’ whack!  Oh, Scott!... Jean!… SCOTT!.... JEAN!!”

Rogue is dying inside.  She holds herself tightly, trying as hard as she can not to burst out laughing.  

Scott and Jean are shuffled into one hand as Remy picks up the Magneto figurine again.  “Enough of this!” Remy says, back in the Magneto voice.  He then lets out another dramatic scream as he tosses the Scott and Jean figurines onto the pile of boxes, scaring Oliver, who had been inspecting one of the twist ties.  

He picks up the Storm figurine next, raising her arms to the ceiling.  “An’ now you deal with Stormy, who will smite you with her lightning blasts.” He jolts the Storm hands into Magneto, making little sound effect lightning blasts as he does so.  “Fool, I am impervious to lightning…  How dat possible? Lightning an’ magnetism are not the same thing!... I can control static electricity!... Dat…still don’ make any sense!... Begone, weather witch!”  

Rogue has tears in her eyes. She’s biting her lip so hard, it’s beginning to hurt.  Thankfully, Remy is so lost in his make believe world that he can’t hear her snickering.  

The Storm figurine is placed gently face down on the counter as Remy picks up the Gambit figurine.  Rogue’s eyes grow wide, intensely waiting to see how this will play out… 

“Ohh, you goin’ down now, mon ami,” Remy’s voice grows low and serious.  He starts making explosion sound effects, as if the Gambit figurine is throwing little playing cards at the Magneto one.  Remy then throws his head back in a villainous laugh as he goes back to the Magneto voice.  “You seriously think a few mild explosions could ever touch me?”  

Remy stops, and grins that cocky, beautiful grin of his.  “Non, but it enough to keep you distracted.”  He starts turning the Magneto figurine around, as if it’s confused.  “See, I always gotta ace up my sleeve.”  

In a quick second, he drops the Gambit figurine, and grabs the Rogue one.  Her arm is out, one leg up, poised to fly.  Remy slams the fist of the Rogue figurine into the Magneto one’s head.  “Howdy, sugah.” 

Rogue tilts her head, amused.  Remy’s imitation of her own voice is so comically off, and yet incredibly endearing.  

“How ‘bout you leave my family alone!” The Rogue figurine crashes into the Magneto one again.  This time, Remy charges the Magneto figurine, causing it to glow purple.  He tosses the charged Magneto figurine up, letting it explode in mid-air with a bang.  The charred remains drop to the counter with a clang before it bounces into the trash next to the counter.  

Remy then picks up the Gambit figurine and brings it in close to the Rogue one.  “Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are when you’re punching people, chere?...Why don’t you shut up and kiss me, Remy…” Remy starts clicking the faces of the two figurines together, making little kiss-y noises and ‘mwa’ sounds as the action figures ‘make out’.  

Rogue grins wildly, expecting nothing less.  She crosses her arms across her chest, casually walking forward to let her presence be known. “Whatcha doing, sugah?” 

Remy gives a startled jump, the figurines dropping out of his hand with a clatter.  He’s not the least bit sorry he’s been caught, however, a devilish grin quickly sliding onto his lips.  “Jus’ havin’ a bit of fun testing some of these toys that show sent us.”  Rogue picks the destroyed Magneto figurine out of the trash.  “Some of dem defective,” he says slyly. 

“Defective huh?” She drops the figurine unceremoniously back into the trash and comes in close, wrapping her arms around his neck.  She knows the show is a sore spot, no matter how much free merch they’ve gotten from it lately.   “You still salty about all that?”

He lets out a grumble, but still wraps himself around her, just the way she likes.  “Don’ act like you wouldn’t be, too, if they killed you off like dat.   Middle of the first season, too.  What’d I do to deserve dat?” 

“They just knew you were the best one.” She runs her fingers through his hair.  “Who else gonna go out in a fiery blaze of heroism like that?” 

He smirks, though she can still see a hint of sadness in his eyes.  “It was pretty epic, non?” 

“The best…”  She draws him in for a kiss, sweet and gentle and comforting.  “Forget that show, Remy.  That ain’t our life.  This is.” She kisses him again, a little bit harder, grounding herself in his embrace.  He had tortured himself wanting to keep watching that show, but she couldn’t.  She wouldn’t.  She didn’t want to imagine herself going down a path she would never recover from.  “Besides…” she says, trying to keep it light.  “I’m sure season two will have me pulling your pretty ass back from the dead one way or the other.  And if it doesn’t, you best bet I’ll get those writers fired and write it myself.”  

“I ever tell you how sexy you are when pulling me back from the dead?” 

“Shut up and kiss me, Remy.”  He does and they do.  Forget the massage tonight, they’re going straight to the trashy.  She’s hungry to feel him everywhere tonight.  

They break apart once again, breathing heavily as Rogue leans her forehead against his.  “Hey, Remy?” 

“Oui?” 

“Why don’t we leave this mess for later and go play with some of the toys we’ve already got.”

He laughs into another kiss.  “You always have de best ideas, chere…” 

****

Later… 

In the stillness of the night, long after Remy’s fallen asleep, Rogue gets up for a glass of water.  

The kitchen is how they left it hours ago, a mess of trash and action figures scattered around the room.  The cats had gotten into some of it.  Poor Scott had fallen to the ground.  She picks him up, placing him next to Jean, giving him a little pat as she does so.  

She wants to ignore the others.  Wants to ignore the strange sensation it is to have your likeness in toy form.  Still, she’s drawn to the little action figure her. She picks it up, inspecting it.  It’s her old green and yellow uniform, one she hasn’t worn in years. She doesn’t even know where it is, probably having been trashed in some long ago fight.  Unsurprisingly, the boobs are a little too big, the waist a little too small, and the hair a bit ridiculous.  But it’s oddly still her.  A little version her.  

She looks down to the Gambit figurine and smiles.  The trench coat, the staff, the ridiculously abbed pink breast plate.  The cocky little grin.  They got his likeness perfectly.  And yet it doesn’t even hold a candle to the real thing.  

“Love ya, Remy,” she says softly, as she takes the Rogue figurine and gives the Gambit figurine a kiss with it.  She laughs at her own silliness, but still takes a moment to place the figurines together, resting against each other, as they should be.  

She grabs her water and turns off the light and heads back to the bedroom, where she’ll soon curl up against her husband and fall asleep.  

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: It’s a tradition the three of them hold. Whenever one of them finds a book of the right kind, he brings it back to Kaer Morhen to share with the others. They keep the books on a shelf in the library that they inexpertly installed themselves. Eskel drags a chair up to form their little semicircle in front of the library fire. Lambert opens the first bottle of krupnikas. ‘Well?’ Lambert says. ‘Either of you find a good one this year?’ ‘Feast your eyes, lads,’ says Eskel with relish, ‘on this.’ He waves an octavo at them. ‘Picked it up in Redania,’ he says. ‘Meant to be very spicy.’ He waggles his eyebrows, and Geralt grins. Jaskier is a romance novelist, and Geralt finds out.

Author: @jackironsidesfic

[siconetribal]

Beyond the Bookshelves (10)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: The gates of heaven have finally been opened, Loki doesn't know makeup, and when you work above and beyond your pay grade.

Summary: You’re a Resource Management Specialist at S.H.I.E.L.D. normally referred to as “The Librarian”. You’ve been assigned the nightmarish task of digitizing all the physical resources currently owned by the agency, with a few new computers and one extra helper.

A/N:

Sorry about the delay. I ended up getting more tasks for work right after traveling abroad. It was a scramble to get the last 2 months caught up.

Please comment/like/reblog. If you’d like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know! (If I missed any tags, please let me know, I’ll add you right away!) I’d also greatly appreciate it if rebloggers remember to add the tags (or some at least).

The lovely banners used in this fic are from @cafekitsune.

If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters.

The doors opened. The library doors swung open without any resistance, no blaring alarms or the ear grating computer voice that incessantly disturbed his times sneaking in. He was actually allowed to enter the library once more.

“Good morning, let me know if you need any assistance!” A familiar voice called out. A sweet voice that triggered Loki, setting his rage aflame and quickly overshadowing the joy of having his access given back to him. His icy blue eyes narrowed as he crossed the threshold and quickly strode up to the semicircle reception desk that forced him to remain roughly three feet away from the villainous woman who left him stranded. He stood tall, looking down at her, ready to scold her, but there was something off about her.

Her face looks pale, but her cheeks are quite red. What sort of makeup style is this? He scrunched his nose in distaste, no attempt to hide his look of displeasure, as Y/N finally looked up at him. She was saying something, but her voice sounded odd, stuffy and nasally. A dark shade was visible under her eyes. He took a step back from the desk, unsure what was wrong with her. Perhaps I should reconsider working with this odd person. Her sense of professionalism is questionable.

“Hello, Loki?” He reflexively grabbed the hand waving in front of her face, but quickly released it at her wince.

“What?” He cleared his throat and straightened up his posture.

“Glad to see you back on Earth. Well, you’re back in the library, free to browse and rent as you used to.” She grinned, but the happiness did not reach her eyes. False niceties, something he was used to seeing. What else should he expect from some odd stranger? Why did it hurt? He balled his hands in to fists to keep from rubbing at his chest to ease the dull ache that blossomed over his heart. 

“Yes, thank you,” he kept his tone flat, formal. “I’ll summon you if I need any assistance.” He waved at her dismissively as he turned and wandered into the maze of shelves filled with books. 

“You’re welcome?” Y/N raised a brow, rolling her eyes as the younger prince disappeared from sight. Plopping back into her chair, she softly groaned at the soreness that throbbed through her back and hips. Her eyes burned, only a slight reprieve coming from when she squeezed the heavy lids shut. “I really should’ve stayed home today.” She muttered, fumbling under the desk for the small bottle of painkillers, popping two pills with a swig of water. “Rent isn’t going to pay itself, though.” She forced herself to sit up and carefully rolled and rubbed her neck. She shook the computer mouse and woke the monitor. “Let’s make sure the files are properly being shared between locations.” She muttered under her breath, forcing herself to stay awake.

Time was finally running smoothly, as it was meant to be, as Loki finally finished the book he left off on and began a new one. The sunlight shone through the floor to ceiling windows beside his favorite little nook, giving a warmth to the room. Everything was as it should be. Quiet and perfect. No needless ford conversation, unwanted company, and petty animosity. He was able to breathe and simply be. Finishing his second book, he closed it with a soft thud and stretched. A passing glance at the clock had him sitting up in an instant.

“Nearly two already? I’ve been here far longer than I thought.” His schedule was fairly light today since the mission was being replanned and his training session was cancelled due to other members being sent out on missions or having other debriefings. “The dinning hall should be quieter now, and anyone who would think of talking to me should be long gone.” He smiled at his luck, returning the book to its proper place with a snap of his fingers as he stood and left the library.

Yes, all was right with the world once more and luck was finally on his side. Even the stares and whispers of the other agents could not dampen his mood as he made his way to the cafeteria with a slight bounce to his step. A small tune was poised on his lips, ready to be hummed in his sudden abundance of happiness when something odd caught his attention. He frowned at the small crowd of people that lingered at the entry. Had he been wrong about the time? He checked his phone for the time, and his frown deepened.

No, fifteen to two, the cafeteria should be quieter. So why are there so many people and blocking the door? He slowed his space to a near stop.

“What’s going on?”

“Someone fainted.”

“Fainted, where, here, when?!” He rolled his eyes at the bits of conversation he could hear.

If you’re unable to care for yourself, you should not be here. Such poor care makes you a liability, not an asset. He audibly scoffed, grabbing the attention of the crowd, which quickly parted for him. He wanted little to do with such useless gossip, and their fear of him was an asset at this moment. As he began to make his way through the path made for him when a familiar voice caught his attention. It was weaker than before, just as stuffy. He froze, looking down to see the librarian.

“I’m fine, just got dizzy.” She forced a smile that once again did not meet her eyes. 

“Y/N, you literally passed out and fell to the floor!”

“I’m fine, just tired from all my travels.” He watched as she used the wall to stand and push herself off of it, only to stumble forward. To his surprise, and everyone else’s, his arm shot out and caught Y/N before she fell forward.

“Librarian, get a hold of yourself.” He scoffed, ready to move his arm, but her lack of response and full weight on him made him pause. “Librarian, what game are you playing?” He stepped closer and turned her, so his arm was hooked around her back. Her eyes were closed, breathing was labored, and her body was on fire. It dawned on him then that her look was not a makeup choice. She was severely sick and was currently unconscious. “Librarian, get a hold of yourself!” He gently tried to shake her awake once more, to no avail. He called out once more, and a slight groan from her eased some of the worry that gripped at his heart. Hooking his other arm under her knees, he vanished in a flash of green and black as he turned on his heel. Captain America would have to excuse him for the use of magic, he was taking a team member to the medic after all.

Tags: @vbecker10 @huntress-artemiss @softestqueeen @thegodofnotknowing @princess-ofthe-pages @firedrakegirl @rcailleachcola @cabingrlandrandomcrap @lotrefcp @lwtannie @jainaeatsstars @msdjsg7 @tom-hlover @kneelingformyloki @gruftiela @gigglingtiggerv2 @kats72 @mischief2sarawr @evalynanne @wolfsmom1

[just-a-casual-newtasaur]

And then the world exploded

And then the world exploded (Newt x gn!reader)

Words: 5.4k

Warnings: injury, infection, explosions, mentions of death, blood, violence, mentions of violence, kissing

Summary: Minho has been taken by WICKED and the gladers are trying to rescue him

(50 follower special, whoop whoop 🎉, I luv you all tyy for being here and have an amazing week)

You POV

you follow the boys as they run along a road, looking around nervously. if they were seen by WICKED wouldn’t hesitate to blow them all sky high. you raise your head along the crowd and see Newt herding boy after boy under a moss covered overhang.

when you reach him he says in a worried voice, “is that everyone”

“yes, I’m the last one”

he nods and follows you after the others. the youngest of the boys are being comforted by the others while some had spilt into small groups to talk.

you walk with Newt, peering out around the rock you were hiding behind. you see Newts eyes scanning the area and the sky around it, muttering, “he should be here”

you put a hand on his shoulder and he holds onto your wrist, still scanning.

Thomas joins his friend at his shoulder and starts surveying the barren land between the distance WICKED building and their rocky overhang.

Newt stares, absently kicking the sand with the toe of his boot as he keeps looking into the distance.

you look at Thomas and he looks at you. he is biting his tongue and looking anxious for his friend. he had known Minho for maybe more than two years, and you have no idea what he’d do if his friend didn’t make it back to them.

“There!” Newt’s cry makes you, Thomas and others look up. you see from the distance a figure walking towards them from a distance. even from far away, it is almost certainly Minho. Newt rushes forward only stopped from running right to Minho by Thomas’ arm and quiet words.

the gladers crowd in a semicircle, bunched together watching as Minho stumbles towards them, Newt and Thomas’s faces are filled with glee and you can tell Newt is barley stopping himself from running towards his friend.

everyone keeps looking left and right, he was doing alright so far, it looked like WICKED hadn’t noticed him yet. hadn’t noticed that one of their prisoners had just escaped. the last thing you see is Minho’s face split into a giant grin. and then the world exploded.

you fall to your knees, ears ringing as bombs fall from the sky. smokes snakes around you making you cough and fire rains from above.

you bend your head, covering it with your hands and coughing violently. and then everything was still. a dull ringing fills your head and people are standing up all around you.

you find you’re sighing in relief despite yourself, as you see Newt and Thomas are already on their feet, looking around to where Minho had been a few moments ago.

“Over there.” Thomas points towards a hunched figure, no doubt Minho, shaking with coughs. three shadowy figures holding long sticks with electricity fizzing from the end, approach him from behind.

you don’t think. you weren’t thinking. all you know is that you’re running. running towards the crouched boy.

“No! Y/n!” you glance behind you to see Newt fighting off Thomas who had his arms gripped around his waist, restraining him. “No!”

you turn away from him, Newt’s screams still ringing after you. you race towards Minho and the figures, slamming into one of them and making his teammates turn and raise their weapons.

there is a fizz of electricity and you feel your limbs jerk from under you. a strangled scream escapes your mouth as you fall to the ground.

hands carry you away, another flash of electricity and shout of pain tells you Minho is being carried after you. pain ripples through your body. and then you pass out.

Newt POV

I struggle against Tommy’s grip, fighting as hard as I can to run after them. “No! Y/n!” Thomas grunts with the effort of restraining me and Frypan moves to help, grabbing my arms and pinning them down by my sides.

I see them slam into one of the figures and a flash of light as the others shoot their weapons. a strangled cry, somewhere between a scream and a sob, escapes my mouth and I double my efforts in fighting to free myself.

“Newt stop it”

I ignore him.

“Newt, if you get caught now, we won’t be able to help them”

I stop struggling and Tommy uses the opportunity to drag me away after the other gladers who had taken cover behind the large overhang.

You POV

you blink open your eyes and see Minho leaning on one of the walls of the blinding white room you’re in. “you’re finally awake.” sitting up, you rub your head.

“That was a really stupid thing to do.”

you scoff, “yeah, you’re welcome” he smiles grimly at you.

“When Newt gets his hands on us, he’ll kill both of us.” at the thought of Newt your stomach flips and you fight the urge to be sick. you didnt know whether they were safe or not, if any of them weren’t.

the last time you remember seeing him was him screaming at you to not go while being held back by Thomas.

you spin around and start hitting one of the walls with your fist, hoping you were somewhere near the door that was pretty much invisible. or non existent. but you push that thought away.

Minho is watching you, a tiny smile on his face, “it’s no use, you don’t think I’ve already tried that?”

you press your back against the wall and slide down it. Minho sits beside you, “Listen y/n, I’m grateful for what you did, I really am, but you didn’t have too”

you look at him sadly, “I did though, I couldn’t leave a friend.”

Minho sighs, “this is why Newt gets so worried about you.” you rest your head on your knees, and Minho pats you on the arm.

“I’m sorry y/n.”

“No, it’s alright, it’s true”

“but I’m still sorry”

“it’s not that. I just feel bad that I left him. that I left all of them.”

“you got me though. that was pretty brave of you, even if it was stupid. I’m glad I’m not on my own”

you look sideways at him and smile a little. he smiles back and tucks his knees up to his chin.

Newt POV

I bounce on the balls of my feet, “we need to go get them, we need to go get them”

Tommy puts a hand on my arm, “calm down, it’s alright.”

I push him away, “it’s not bloody alright, what if they’re hurt, what if they hurt them, what if they-”

I cannot finish that sentence but Tommy’s eyes show understanding. “they’re tough, y/n, they can take care of themself.”

I sighs, “I know it’s just” I bite my lip, worry creasing lines into my face.

Thomas pulls me around to face him and hugs me tightly. I find myself hugging back, resting my face on his shoulder.

“y/n’s fine, they’re both fine, they’re troopers, they’ve been through worse.”

You POV

the click of the little hatch on the door makes you jump to your feet. “about time.” Minho scoops up the food and hands you half of it, digging into his own.

you sit cross legged on the floor, silently eating with Minho. “you know you have no manners.”

Minho grins at you through a mouthful of potato and starts stuffing his face so much he looks like a hamster.

you laugh quietly.

“I’m glad I’m not alone in this place. It’d be pretty miserable.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t be alone for long. they’ll get us out”

you scoff.

“Seriously, I wouldn’t be surprised if Newt isn’t pulling out bits of his hair right now. he worries about you, you know”

you put your chin on your knees, not very hungry anymore. you did not want to think about Newt right now, let alone think about the worry you knew he must be experiencing.

Minho puts down his food, “I’m sorry y/n, I’m just trying to keep you from losing hope”

you nod at him, “how did you escape before.”

he grins to himself, pointing to a piece of plaster scraped hastily over a patch of ceiling.

“See that up there, these shanks don’t think we can get up there but I wasn’t keeper of the runners for no reason”

he gets to his feet, walks up to the back wall, takes a breath and sprints as fast as he can at the opposite wall, he jumps on a small foothold you see Minho must have made himself, and pushes off it touching the uneven ceiling with the palm of his hand.

he lands on his feet, and sits back down next to you. “it was probably because I need some fresh air but now they’ve just covered it up and are probably using some kind of fancy technology to blast air in here.”

you sigh, “how on earth are we getting out of this place”

“You’ll see” Minho smiles at you, “the others will be here, they’ll help us”

Newt POV

I feel my leg shaking, having to stop myself biting my nails for the fourth time. Tommy paces behind me, talking with Frypan and a few other gladers.

they are talking about how best to get Minho and y/n out of their prison. Brenda has a vague idea of where they are, but the rest of us are stumped, we just know that they’re in that building.

I get to my feet and walk over to the group. “Have you decided what to do for Minho and y/n yet?”

“Newt,” Tommy starts patiently, “it’s only been five minutes since you last asked that, and we haven’t got much further in figuring out how to get them out”

“Let’s just burst in there”

“Newt they’ll shoot you down within seconds”

I feel my blood boiling with hatred for WICKED, “I’d like to see them try, I’ll snap their necks in half for what they’ve done to all of us”

Tommy puts a hand on my shoulder, “If we start hurting them what do you think they’ll do to y/n and Minho. they have them trapped. won’t be too hard to put a bullet through their brains if we do anything wrong”

I press my mouth into a thin line and take a deep breath, closing my eyes tight before nodding and sitting back down some ways away, watching the WICKED building and imagining many things, most involving piles of Cranks and giant rocks of fire, destroying the whole place.

*

I feel my hopes lift as Thomas beckons all the gladers to gather around him. “I think we have come up with an idea to get Minho and y/n back from WICKED.”

I listen carefully as Thomas explains the plan, “but before we do this, I need to tell you, if anyone breaks from their post,” he fixes me with a serious stare, “this whole thing might not work.”

I raise my head indignantly, “I won’t break from my post, so long as I’m helping actually rescue them.”

Thomas looks at me and I glare back at him. then he sighs and I know he’s given in. “Fine, you can help, but don’t go running off, or attack anyone from WICKED just because they’re passing”

“Alright, alright, I’ll behave myself”

“Good,” Thomas turns to assign posts to the others, as they gather around him.

You POV

you sit in the middle of the room, your back pressed against Minho’s. “So, how long do you think it’ll be before the others get in here.”

“At least we’ll hopefully know if they tried,” you look at him in confusion, “well they’ll be thrown in here, won’t they?”

“Doesn’t seem like WICKED will let us all share a cell.”

Minho doesn’t answer, just kicks one of his legs over the other. “When do you think they’ll bring dinner.”

you laugh, “I thought we were talking about the others rescuing us.”

he shrugs, “I’m hungry.”

you laugh and he laughs too. that’s when the door clicks. both of you scramble to your feet, expecting to see the faces of their friends.

as the rat man steps through, your face falls. “What do you want.” Minho’s voice is harsh and he folds his arms across his chest.

“I’m here to take y/n”

“Mhm, let me think about that, no”

“It’s not your choice, I’ve been sent to take them”

“And why is that?”

“That, is not your concern”

Minho opens his mouth again, but you pat him on the shoulder and step towards the rat man.

he nods at you and gestures for you to step out of the door. you see Minho’s confused and a little anxious face as the door slides close behind you.

two guards flank you and the rat man as you walk down a long hallway. you look around, thinking of the possibility of escape. a guard prods you in the back with his launcher, “don’t even think about it.”

you reach a door and the rat man opens it with the guards shoving you inside. “Make yourself at home, you’ll be here for a while.” the rat man smiles cruelly as he shuts the door on you, leaving you in another, slightly smaller, white room.

Newt POV

I crouch next to Tommy, keeping my eyes on the building. two people sprint towards it, using the overhanging rocks to shield themselves from the view of the cameras that are propped all around the walls of the building.

they run until they are about one hundred meters away from it, and then they raise a hand above their head.

Thomas nods at me, and we and three others run towards them. Funny really, WICKED had so much security, yet they fail to put any cameras under these rocks. or maybe they did and were just toying with us. that was one of the reasons that only me and Tommy were going in.

we run, doubled over to avoid hitting our heads on the rough rocky roof.

Tommy holds out his hand and we stop abruptly. he turns to the boys behind us, “okay, you three, wait here and make sure nobody notices that anyone is going in or out. use a distraction, cover the cameras, just make sure WICKED isn’t focusing on us or Minho and y/n.”

they nod and Tommy moves forwards with me close behind him. we reach a heavy door, when Tommy spins around to face me. “Listen, I know you want to get them out, and we will, but don’t do anything stupid.”

I look defiant but eventually say, “fine.” he nods and ducks under the garage like door, slipping inside.

a long hallway stretches before us. Tommy leads the way down it, peeking around corners before moving.

I breathe quietly into his ear, “where are they?”

he looks around before answering, “Brenda said it was around here somewhere.”

we slip down the hallway, running around corners before Tommy stops so abruptly I slam into him.

I peer around him and see a door. my heart starts racing, and he shoots me a look that says, ‘remember don’t do anything stupid’.

he walks ahead of you, keeping one of his arms stiff as though he is getting ready to hold me back if he has to.

Thomas flattens his palms and starts patting the door, muttering under his breath. no doubt Brenda had told him how to open these mechanical door.

there is a click and a whir, and the door slides open slowly. I’m surprised that people don’t start running towards us, the sound wasn’t exactly quiet.

Minho’s apprehensive face comes into view but it quickly splits into grin as he sees me and Thomas standing on the other side.

he rushes towards us, “I knew it, I knew you’d come. I kept telling y/n.”

“speaking of which where is y/n,” I survey the room, feeling my face grow pale.

Minho looks at me, “the rat man took her. I don’t know where she is.”

Thomas pats me on the arm, and I take a deep breath, though on the inside, my heart is screaming. “Right, we probably don’t have much time before WICKED find out that you’re out of here, so we’d better find y/n, and get out of here”

at the silence that follows I nod and gesture for either Thomas or Minho to lead the way. they share a look of understanding before Thomas moves in front of me.

I follow behind him, being much less careful to be quiet. it was only a matter of time before WICKED was on us anyways.

You POV

you sit, curled in a corner of the room, bored out of your mind. footsteps run past your door and you jump to your feet, pressing your ear up to the door at the sound of mumbling.

“He’s out somehow, the cell’s empty”

“Sounds like his friends have finally come for him”

“Where is security, they should have been stopped”

“They’re over by Denver, taking care of some Cranks”

“That isn’t our problem”

“Well their paying for it and we all know-“

the last bit of the WICKED employee’s sentence was cut of by a loud crunching, and the sound of flesh against flesh.

their friend shouts in surprise but his is cut short too by a thumping sound. “Newt I told you not to do anything stupid,” Thomas’ annoyed voice echoes from near the unfindable door of your cell, “like that.”

you bang your fists on the door, shouting, “Thomas, Newt!” a shout sounds from nearby, “y/n!”

you hear footsteps run towards your door. “Back up Newt, I’ll open it.” you hear a few clicks and whirs and then a hiss as the door slides open slowly.

“Y/n!” Newt grins widely at you and you sprint towards him, throwing yourself at him, wrapping your legs around his waist. you crash your lips onto his the second you two collide.

he stumbles backwards slightly, but keeps his balance, returning your kiss and hugging you back so tightly, you’re sure neither of you can breathe. You finally break apart as Newt says quietly, “Never do that again, you hear me. Never.”

you don’t answer, you can’t promise that.

you raise your head a little and see Thomas and Minho grinning at each other. unfortunately, the moment doesn’t last. at that very moment, alarms blare and red flashing lights dance before your eyes.

“well that’s our cue, let’s get out of here.”

you intertwine your fingers with his and run after the three, down long, narrow corridors. footsteps and shouts sound from behind you.

you glance over your shoulder and hear a clicking sound. armed WICKED guards race towards the group, aiming guns at you.

the bullet flies through the air and hits you in the leg. you cry and feel it jerk out from underneath you.

Newt turns around and bends down next to you, “no, they’re not taking you again.” he sweeps you, bridal style, into his arms and runs with you.

catching up to the others, you see their eyes widen as they see you, still letting out small cries of pain, in Newt’s arms.

Thomas reaches out an arm to help his friend but he waves him away. “Keep going, I’ll take care of y/n, get the others out of the way, it won’t be long before WICKED sends those bombs again.”

Thomas nods, speeds up to run beside Minho, exchanges a few words with him and they both start sprinting away from the two of you, around a corner and out of sight.

a loud metallic creaking reaches your ears. you hear Newt groan quietly. he speeds up, running, or rather hobbling, down the long hallway.

he races around a corner to find a slowly closing garage like door. picking up the pace, you try to block out the footsteps behind you, growing closer.

Newt leans into you, whispering in your ear, “this is going to hurt, it’ll be over soon.” you nod and he touches your nose with his for a moment, before bending down and sending you rolling underneath the door.

you shout in pain as you tumble on your injured leg. as you roll to a stop, you see Newt slide under the door, just before it closes with a crash.

he kneels next to you, gently prising your bloodstained hands off your leg so he can examine it. you see him bite his lip, anger flashing in his eyes.

putting a hand on his, he smiles at you, warmth once more filling his face. yet at the sound of footsteps, both of your heads jerk upwards towards the sound.

Minho and Thomas stand above the two of you, looking grave. “What is it?”

they look at each other, “follow us.” Newt looks back down at you, “are you okay if we stand?”

you take a breath and nod. he puts one of your arms around his shoulders and, as gently as he can, rises with you.

wincing slightly, you lean on him, keeping weight off your leg. the two of you follow Minho and Thomas in silence.

you duck under rocks, bent double. you finally straighten up, expecting to see the gladers, anyone.

but you’re met with a completely different sight. large smoking craters dot the area. boulders have been destroyed, littering the floor with rocky debris.

Newt POV

“looks like WICKED were more aware of what was going on than we thought.”

“I suppose y/n, and me weren’t doing much for them except to get the rest of you in one place. seems like they attacked the others before we got back.”

“Do you think they’re alright” Thomas bites his lip, looking anxious.

“Well there are no bodies but WICKED could have always cleaned up after themselves.” I twist my hands together, worry and hatred for what WICKED had done fighting for dominance.

“They know what they’re doing.”

“That won’t stop them getting blown up.”

Minho sits down with his back against a rock, “so what’s the plan. we can’t stay here. it’s only a matter of time before WICKED blow us up too.”

“We should get moving.” y/n lowers themself steadily onto a rock, “maybe we’ll be able to catch up to the others, and regroup. and if not, at least we’re putting some distance between us and this wretched place.”

“We need to do something about your leg first. I’d clean it, but there’s nothing, but bloody sand around here”

I bend down, looking closely at the bloody fabric of her trousers. I look around me for some sort of bandage, before eventually ripping off a strip of fabric off my jacket and tying it, gently yet tightly around their leg. a small wince slips from their lips and I immediately look up. they have their eyes squeezed shut and their fists clenched.

You POV

“It’s alright love, I’m done now.”

you prise open your eyes slowly, trying hard not to look at the already bloodstained bandage.

“Are you okay y/n.” Minho is looking at you sympathetically.

“Of course they’re not bloody okay. bloody shuck ran their leg through with a bleeding bullet. and when I get my hands on the idiot that did it, I’ll-“

“you won’t do anything to anyone” you pat him gently on the arm.

“We’ll see”, menace edges his voice but the rage has left his face.

“There isn’t much we can do against them.” Thomas is watching Newt closely, “four unarmed teenagers, one of which is injured, against hoards of armed WICKED workers with bergs and launchers. this isn’t a movie, just ‘cause we’re the good guys doesn’t mean we’ll win.”

you sit in silence for a moment, letting Thomas’ words sink in. the truth was, he was right, they didn’t stand a chance against WICKED. it would be a miracle if all of them made it out of this alive. you had already lost so many.

you look around at the boys. if any of them didn’t make it. no, you shake away that thought, it was too unbearable.

besides it wasn’t true, you would make it out, all of you. you’d just have to keep telling yourself it. then maybe you’d believe it.

Newt POV

we keep walking. walking, walking. not sure to where exactly. well I know where, but I don’t know if ‘where’ is even real.

didn’t seem likely that the people that had just dropped bombs on us, and shot y/n in the leg, would just let us into a ‘safe haven’.

I feel I have good reason to be skeptical but I don’t want to mention it to the others. they’ve already got enough worry to burden their minds.

I find myself glancing over at y/n more and more often. I can tell that they’re struggling, though they don’t say anything. their small gasps every few seconds and ever increasingly obvious limp.

they catch me watching them anxiously and tries to smile but it comes out as more of a pained grimace. I move closer to them and offer them a shoulder.

with a small sigh, they lean gratefully into me. burrowing their head in my neck, their short sharp breaths slow gently.

“we need to keep moving love if you’re ready.” I didn’t want to have to say it but Minho and Thomas were getting further and further away.

they look up into my face for a moment, as though they were trying to remember every detail of it. then they nodded.

I let them wrap an arm around my shoulder as we started walking. both of us limped along after Thomas and Minho who looked like they had stopped to wait for the two of us.

You POV

you reach the boys, and see Minho and Thomas watching you closely. “Do you want me to take her Newt.”

you press closer to the boy beside you, and he looks down at you before answering, “I’m alright Tommy, they’re good with me.”

he nods. Newt looks towards Minho, “are we gonna keep moving or are we stopping here?” he cups his hands over his eyes, looking up towards the sun then back at you.

“we can stop here.”

you sigh in relief and sink onto the sand. the sun has already started setting, splashing orange into the blue sky. Newt sits down next to you and you put your head gently in his lap.

he looks down at you, stroking your hair softly. you hear Thomas and Minho laying down out of your field of vision. you close your eyes and feel sleep tugging at you.

a few weak rays of sunlight peek out from the horizon, creeping through your eyelids.

you raise your head to see Newt. dark circles showing prominently under his eyes. looking like he hadn’t slept in ages, still in the same position he was when you fell asleep.

you prop yourself on an elbow. Newt looks down at you then at the boys. “you should try and get some more sleep darling.”

“you can talk.” you retort quietly, “it looks like you didn’t get a wink of sleep last night.”

he doesn’t answer you, pretending he didn’t hear.

“Newt, you need to sleep”

he shakes his head. “Who’s gonna make sure no one from WICKED comes and takes you again in the night”

you shuffle closer to him, and put a hand on his cheek. “don’t worry about me, you need to sleep” he opens his mouth but you put a finger of his lips and drag him down slowly onto the sand.

he lets out a small sigh and, after a few moments, his breathing becomes steady. you run a hand gently through his hair. and smile at the peaceful look on his sleeping face.

Newt POV

I wake with a start, silently cursing myself for falling asleep. propping myself up on my elbow, I start looking around for y/n. my heart starts to race as I look up and down the endless dunes. spinning around frantically, I spot them and feel my heart slow from its, one hundred beats a second.

they smile, “lose something.”

“Not anymore”

“How did you sleep.” they move towards me.

“‘bout as well as I can in a desert with a fear of me or you guys being blown up by a bunch of mad scientists.”

“So pretty bad then”

I yawn hugely in answer. they look over to Tommy and Minho, who are stirring slightly. “I’d tell you to get back to sleep, but Minho will kill us both if he catches anyone sleeping longer than him. the filthy hypocrite.” they add as an afterthought, but I can tell it was a joke.

“speak of the devil”

I turn to see Minho, with bleary eyed Tommy in tow. “Shall we get moving then.” he doesn’t wait for an answer, but drags Tommy after him.

y/n rolls their eyes at me, but the smile on their face is wiped away almost instantly as they start walking. their leg seems to have gotten worse over night. they are limping worse than ever and every step is met with a grimace or small gasp.

I find myself moving closer to them, stiff, as though being ready to catch them at any moment. they seem to notice because their mouth turns into a brave smile and they say, “after this heat, I’ll never complain about the cold again.”

I have to agree with them there. I’m not sure there is a part of me that hasn’t been burned from the sun. not that I’m a stranger to sunburns.

while being both a runner and a trackhoe, I usually found myself in the sun. but this was a whole different level of torture. at this point, I’ve given up trying to wipe the sweat of my forehead.

though if anyone was struggling, it was y/n. it wasn’t that hard to see they were in pain. with both the sand dunes making walking normally impossible, and their leg that looked to be getting worse by the minute, I half expected them to keel over at any moment.

beads of sweat glisten on their forehead, and though it is hot, I’m not sure it’s from the heat. their breath is becoming rasping. yes, none of us have had enough water for quite some time, but, I can’t help worrying.

it wasn’t just me who was getting nervous. Minho and Tommy glance over their shoulder more and more frequently until they are practically walking with their heads facing backwards.

as soon as the sun starts to sink, Minho tells everyone to get some rest. he and Tommy sit on a large rock, tipping sand out of their boots, and shaking emptying bags of water sadly.

I help y/n over to another rock and after making sure they are alright, gently peeled back the makeshift bandage. the little liquid I have left in my body nearly came back up as I look at a swollen, red streaked wound where the bullet had entered their leg.

clearly an infection had set in, no doubt from the little piece of metal buried deep. there was nothing I could do but try to get as much excess blood off the strip of ripped jacket as I could.

You POV

you lean into the boy beside you and he puts an arms around your shoulders. looking up into his face you see worry there and both of you know there is nothing you can do to stop the infection.

the other boys walk over to you, “how is it looking?” Thomas asks Newt.

he doesn’t look at him, but says quietly, “infection.”

“and-“ Minho starts.

“and it means without fancy medication from WICKED there’s nothing we can do. after what’s just happened I don’t think they’ll be all too happy to help us” anger edges his voice now and his grip around you tightens.

you hold onto his hand and he relaxes a little.

“is there anything we can do, anything at all?” Thomas looks at his friend.

Newt pretends not to hear him, under the pretence of binding your leg back up, not that it would do anything but cover up the vomit inducing sight. his head is low, hidden in the shadow of the setting sun.

“Newt-“

“You just need to go easy on it and I’m sure it’ll be fine.” he pointedly ignores Thomas’ question once again.

Thomas opens his mouth again but Newt cuts over him.

“We need to rest.”

“But-“

“Now Tommy.” Minho gives him a stern look, gesturing to Newt’s blank, numb looking face.

all four of you know. you all know that if you don’t get medication, and soon, you’re not going to make it much further. you all know that you’re never going to get said medication. there wasn’t much hope. there never was much hope. but you have to keep going. for your friends. for the gladers. for Newt…

(Might continue this, if y’all like this one 😊)

[dark-and-kawaii]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ Council ˖⟡˚౨ৎ⋆

Summary: Zevlor now resides in Thay alongside his Princess, his lover. Yet even in a new city, his tielfing heritage catches up to him…

✧₊⁺ Pairing: Zevlor x F!Tav/Lofn

✧₊⁺ Content: Angst - Zevlor Is Looked At As A Hellspawn - Lofn Doesn’t Stand For It

✧₊⁺ Notes: I wanted to share more about Lofn & Zevlor’s story xoxo I really hope you enjoy xoxo And thank you to my lovely friend @octarinecat for inspiring me to continue these stories!!!

The grand hall of Thay was a place of opulence and power, its towering columns and intricate tapestries a testament to the kingdom's rich history. Yet, on this day, the air was thick with tension, like a storm waiting to break. Lofn stood at the center of this storm, her eyes blazing with power and ruling as she faced the council.

Around her, the council members sat in a semicircle, their expressions a mix of disbelief and disapproval. At the forefront was Korgus, a bald elven man whose sharp features seemed carved from stone, “Princess Lofn, do you understand the gravity of your actions? Bringing a tiefling into the heart of Thay, parading him as your consort- it's-”

“It’s what?” Lofn challenged, her tone icy as her hand tightened around her goblet. She could hear the distant roar of Aetherion, his cries a haunting chorus as he felt her rage. Looking out the stain glass she saw how her other dragon Vrymoth’s wings beat against the sky as they both circled the city- a reminder of the power that Thay commanded.

The council was silent, save for the tapping of Korgus' fingers on the table. Finally, his voice came out, “The people will not accept him, Princess... They will see him as a creature of the Nine Hells, a reminder of our sworn enemies.”

Lofn's heart pounded in her chest, “The Nine Hells are our enemies. But Zevlor is not. He is a man of honor, a man of courage. He has proven his loyalty time and time again. And he will continue to do so, not because he is forced to, but because he chooses to.” she replied, her voice steady despite the tumult within, “He is a good man. A man that has bled for me and has kept me safe since away from Thay!”

With a deep breath, she turned to face the stained glass once more. Vyrmoth was the youngest of the two dragons, his body much smaller than Aetherion... Yet he was fast, fierce and powerful still, he was a symbol of the kingdom's might despite being so young. And yet, he allowed Zevlor to mount his back... Something no ordinary person could do, “Vyrmoth, a symbol of my family's legacy, has recognized Zevlor and has allowed him to fly upon his back. The people will see what I have seen. What I continue to see.”

A murmur rippled through the council, some agreeing while others voiced their disagreement. Korgus opened his mouth, then closed it, his expression contemplative, “It is... Unusual, yes. However,” his face grew grim, his gaze piercing Lofn like a spear, his voice low, his tone firm, “he is no dragonrider, nor has Vrymoth claimed him in such a way! And-“

“We cannot deny him,” one of the council members interrupted, her voice soft, “Zevlor is not our enemy, and you heard it from the Princess's own mouth. He had kept her safe during the war in Baldurs Gate, and if Vyrmoth has accepted him, who are we to challenge this?"

Korgus shook his head, “We are the Royal Council of Thay. Our job is to protect the Kingdom and the royal bloodline. This-“ he gestured at Lofn then to Vyrmoth in the sky, “-Is a risk. The blood of the devils flows through his veins. He is a danger to us all!”

Lofn's brows drew together, her fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms, “Zevlor is more than his blood,” her voice echoed through the grand room, her words laced with a quiet fury that belied the tremor in her hands, “And you dare question my judgment, Korgus? You, who have spent your life cowering behind the castle walls while I have ventured out into the world, facing dangers you could not even imagine?”

Korgus, his bald head gleaming under the harsh light of the chandeliers, held his ground, “My princess,” he began, “I speak only for the good of Thay. The people they whisper-“

“And who are these people, Korgus? Have you bothered to ask them? Or do you simply assume to know their thoughts, their fears?”

Another murmur of agreement, several members nodding their heads in support of their future Queen.

Lofn continued, her voice rising, “They will see Zevlor as a protector of the realm, of the Thayian people. He has fought by my side, risked his life for mine. He is the father of my unborn child, and I will not have his honor questioned.” She paused, her eyes sweeping over the faces of the council members, “And to those who still doubt,” she said, her voice hardening, “let me make one thing perfectly clear. I will not tolerate any disrespect towards Zevlor, or towards the child I carry. Anyone who dares question my judgment or his worth will be made an example of, starting with you.”

Her gaze settled on Korgus, the fire in her eyes burning with a fierceness that rivaled that of a dragon's.

The chamber fell silent. Korgus' face paled, his eyes wide with fear. He knew Lofn was not one to make empty threats. Her mother, Lynnania- Queen Of Thay, had instilled in her a determination, a willingness to fight for what she believed in, no matter the cost.

He quickly regained his composure, “You would threaten a member of your own council? For the sake of a tiefl-“

One council member, a wizened old woman with eyes as sharp as a hawk's, smiled, “A worthy successor to her mother, indeed,” she chuckled, her eyes twinkling, “The council was worried the fire may extinguish once you succeed the throne. I see now there is no need for such worry.”

“I thank you for your words, Hevga.” Lofn's heels echoed against the dark stone floors as she approached Korgus, each step deliberate and unwavering. The sound was a rhythmic declaration of war should he speak freely again, a reminder of the authority she wielded. She stopped just short of where Korgus sat, her gaze fixed firmly upon him.

“Korgus,” her voice was quiet but firm, a note of warning underlying the tone, “You have served my mother and our family with unwavering loyalty. For that, I am grateful. But understand this-“ she paused, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, “I am the next heir, the one who will rule this city. My decisions, especially those concerning whom I choose to warm my bed, are not up for debate.”

Her words hung in the air as she leaned slightly forward, her eyes never leaving his, “My mother told me the last man who questioned her- a tall pale elf... Was fed to her black dragon…” she paused, the barest hint of amusement dancing across her lips, “I’m sure the tiefling would take pity on you and spare your life... But, as for Aetherion and I, well- we may not be so generous... Do you understand, Korgus?”

The threat was clear. Korgus swallowed, his head bowed, mumbled an apology, “Yes, my princess,” he replied, his voice shaking, “I-I will not question your judgment again.”

She straightened and turned to address the rest of the council, “Give it time, and you will see. The people will come to follow Zevlor, to seek his guidance and learn from his mastery with the sword. He is a leader in his own right, and he will make a fine addition to this family- a kind one, something this bloodline could benefit from now and then.”

"We should not question our princess," another stated firmly, his gaze steady, "She is our next queen, and she has led us to victory time and again. She has forged alliances where none thought possible. The people will listen to reason, just as we must."

Korgus stared at the floor, his face a mask of shame until he finally raised his head and met Lofn's gaze, "I do apologize, Princess. I will see to it that he is welcomed here."

Lofn nodded curtly, "See that you do. Now, if there are no further objections, I would like to continue with the matters at hand."

As Lofn left the council chamber the marble steps gleamed under the flickering torchlight, casting long shadows that danced along the walls. At the base of the stairs stood Zevlor, his presence ever so comforting. Beside him was Riznof, her mother's trusted guard, a man whose loyalty was as steadfast as the stone beneath their feet.

Riznof's face broke into a warm smile as he caught sight of Lofn, “Ah, our princess returns.” He clapped Zevlor on the shoulder with a jovial strength that spoke of camaraderie despite only knowing him for such a short time, “You've brought back a fine soldier, little jewel. I look forward to seeing him on the training grounds!”

Zevlor inclined his head respectfully, his horns catching the light, “I thank you. Your words are most kind.”

Lofn returned Riznof's smile, her eyes softening as they met Zevlor's, “Yes, he is indeed. We are fortunate he chose to return with me.” Her gaze lingered on Zevlor, her affection for him evident in the tender curve of her lips.

Zevlor's tail swayed with a subtle joy at her praise, his eyes filled with a warmth that mirrored her own, “I am the fortunate one,” he replied, his voice a gentle murmur meant only for her, “To have been asked to join you in Thay is an honor beyond measure.”

Lofn nodded, then turned to Riznof. “Thank you, Riznof. Please, if you don't mind i'd like a moment with Zevlor, alone."

With a respectful nod, Riznof withdrew, leaving the two of them alone.

The tiefling hellrider glanced at her, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “Do I even want to know what the council wanted?” he asked, his tone light yet edged with concern.

As she sighed, irritation flickered across her features. “One of them, Korgus, who has served my family well, questioned my judgment. He believes it's a poor reflection on me to be seen with you.”

Zevlor halted, and Lofn stopped just a few inches beyond him, turning to face him. He took her hand gently, his touch always so delicate, “I apologize, my dear. I never meant to cast a shadow over your light. You shouldn't have to dim yourself because of me. I had hoped they could overlook the fact that I'm... a bloody hellspawn-"

Before he could continue, Lofn reached up, cupping his face with her hands, her touch reassuring, “Zevlor, stop,” she said softly, “Don't speak like that. You are not a shameful secret, or a blight. You are the man I love, and soon the father of my child. I will not have you hide away in some dark corner, forgotten and alone. They will all seek you, and follow you just as they all do for me.”

Zevlor closed his eyes, leaning into her touch, the tension slowly draining from his body. She always had a way of making him feel safe, of easing the anxiety that threatened to overwhelm him, the constant fear that he didn't belong, “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, “You have no idea how much that means to me, to be accepted… To be loved, despite my blood. I will not dissapoint you.”

She gave his cheek a soft kiss before pulling away, her gaze tender, “You could never disappoint me, my love… And I will remind you every day, until you no longer doubt yourself.”

[sorinethemastermind]

Whumpuary 2025 | Prompt: Darkness

 Claudia opened her eyes to the sound of lapping waves. She stood on a beach, sand squishing between her toes, darkness all around her. She looked down, wiggling her toes with a smile. But the sand was a strange, deep maroon color. The water washed over her feet, and that was red, too. Like blood. Or berry juice.

 She looked around, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, “Daddy?”

 No voice answered and her lower lip trembled. He wouldn’t leave her here, would he?

 All around was blackness, but centered on her was a little bubble of light. She took a hesitant step towards it’s edge, finding that it moved with her. Claudia laughed, throwing her arms out and running about in a small semicircle, the light traveling with her.

 “Daddy! Daddy, look!” she came to a halt, remembering that she was still alone.

 Claudia sat on the ground, clumping the sand in her fists. It was damp and clung to her hands. She began to build a castle. She started with the foundation, patting the sand into place and slowly adding walls and towers. Then she dug out a moat in the ground before her, letting the red waters of the strange ocean fill it, humming quietly to herself.

 “Claudia, what are you doing?” she glanced up at the voice behind her, spinning round on the ground, dress twisting around her legs.

 “Daddy!” she exclaimed, pushing herself to her feet. He was standing above her, looking down at her with a worried expression.

 “What are you doing?” he asked again.

 “I was building a castle,” she told him, brushing the sand off her skirt.

 “No, what are you doing here?”

 “I-�� Claudia hesitated and glanced away, hair falling into her face. “It was just one teenie tiny spell,” she whispered.

 Her father knelt before her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I told you that you weren’t ready yet. These things are dangerous if you aren’t shown the proper way to do them.”

 “But you did show me!” Claudia exclaimed, looking up at him defiantly. “I just wanted to be like you.”

 Viren sighed, taking her hand as he got back up. “Come, then.”

 She trailed after him, leaving her little castle behind. Her feet fit perfectly in the prints he left in his wake, her hand securely clasped in his, as they travel along the oceanfront. But her legs were short, and she couldn't quite keep up. Claudia stumbled, her fingers slipping through her father’s grasp. She caught herself, straightening back up and hurrying after him. But he was getting further and further away, his strides longer than hers, and she was soon left with only his footsteps to guide her.

 “Daddy! Daddy, wait for me!” she stumbled forward blindly, rushing as the darkness encroached. “Daddy, don’t go! You have to stay! Daddy!”

 Her foot caught on something and she fell, landing on hands and knees on a polished wood floor. Sniffing, Claudia pushed herself back to her feet, scanning the space for her father. He was seated at the table, his nose in a book, a cup of that vile tasting tea he always drank clutched in his other hand.

 But it wasn’t just him, beside him her mother stood by the stove. Claudia’s eyes widened as she took in the kitchen of their old home. Lissa flipped a pancake, turning to smile at her. 

 “Claudia, why don’t you go and fetch me a plate?”

 She did as she was told, carrying it over to the stove and standing there as her mother loaded it up with still warm pancakes and perfectly round blueberries. But she didn’t care about the food, her attention on Lissa, standing before her as though she’d never left.

 “Mommy?”

 “Yes, Claudia?” her mother looked down at her, eyes warm as her smile.

 The plate clattered from Claudia’s hands and onto the floor as she wrapped her arms around her mother’s leg, burying her face in her skirt and holding tight. Her breath hitches.

 “You came back.”

 “Came back? Sweetheart,” Lissa stroked her hair, tucking it back out of her face, “I never left.”

 “But… but after Soren got better you-” Claudia paused, hands still clutched in her mother’s skirt. She gradually pulled back, glancing around the room. “Where’s Soren?”

 Her mother’s face fell and she stooped to the ground, picking up the plate and scattered food. “Oh dear, it looks like you dropped this. I’ll get you some new ones, okay?”

 Claudia tugged at her leg desperately, “Where’s Soren?”

 She could hear it, then, the horrible broken rasping that used to echo through her wall at night. Claudia swiveled, releasing her mother’s skirt, and stared towards the hall. She turned back to her mother, trying to tug her towards it. “Mommy! Mommy, you need to do something!”

 But Lissa remained on the floor, picking up the spilled blueberries and neatly putting them back on the plate. She said nothing, eyes fixed on the ground. Claudia glanced around desperately before once again spotting her father, still reading his book. She rushed to him, tugging on his sleeve.

 “Daddy! Daddy, please.” He slowly raised the cup to his lips and took another long sip of tea. There were tears gathering in Claudia’s eyes as she knocked the mug from his hand and ripped the book from his grasp, “Daddy, you have to do the spell!”

 A horrible, shuddering breath echoed through the house and she sobbed, “Please.”

 Her father slowly got up and for a moment Claudia’s eyes lit with hope. But he simply picked his book up from the floor and returned to his reading.

 “No!” she howled, kicking the chair and banging on the table with her little fists. “No, no, no! You have to-” Claudia broke off, eyes finding her father’s staff leant against the opposite wall. She wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “Fine. I’ll just do it.”

 Marching around to the other side of the table, Claudia lifted up the staff. It was far too big for her and she stumbled under it’s weight, but as she began to walk, it seemed to shrink. Or she seemed to grow. By the time she had reached the door to Soren’s room it fit perfectly in her hand, fingers wrapping around it with practiced ease.

 She blew the door open to find her brother lying in his bed, chest rising and falling sporadically, and she tried to remember the words she’d heard her father chant that night. She took a deep breath and cast the spell. 

 Claudia would always remember peering through the crack in the door as her father did it, the way that the light in the room flickered and hummed, like the very air was magical. It had seemed painful, at first, and she’d worried he would hurt Soren. But then, when it was over, and Soren had been able to sit up in his bed and take a deep breath for the first time in months, she had understood. Everything was a little painful, at first. It wasn’t scary. It was the only way. Sometimes you had to hurt the things you loved to make them better.

 Claudia lowered the staff as the spell finished and Soren sat up, shakily at first, but then with more sureness. She smiled, tears running down her cheeks, as he took a deep breath. But when he stared up at her, it wasn’t with gratitude, it was with fear.

 “C-Claudia?” he mumbled, shrinking back. She reached for him, but he huddled away from her.

 “It’s okay. It’s just me.” she told him, “You’re going to be better now.”

 “Mom. Mom!” Soren called, eyes wide with terror. 

 Claudia spun, hearing movement in the doorway, to find her mother standing there. Her eyes weren’t warm, and the smile was gone. Instead fat tears leaked slowly down her cheeks, collecting on her chin before dripping onto the floor. Her hands hung limply at her sides. Claudia stumbled towards her. 

 “Look, I fixed it. It’s going to be better now.” Claudia reached for her, “Everything’s going to be better.”

 But her mother took a step back, and then another, as she approached, Moving into the darkness that loomed beyond the doorway. 

 “No. No!” Claudia screamed, the staff falling from her hands as she rushed forward, trying to catch her. To hold on. To not let her go. “Mommy! Mommy, please! Please don’t go!”

 Lissa turned and fled into the dark, Claudia hurrying after, but as her feet left the threshold of the doorway she found herself plunging downward, falling into the waiting empty blackness below. She screamed-

 And hit the ground, finding soft sand below her. The light flickered back on above and she found herself once again on the beach. Claudia tried to push herself to her feet, but her legs buckled and her arms wobbled. She collapsed back onto the sand, sobs catching in her throat, tears hot on her face. She wrapped her arms around her legs, curling in on herself.

 “Please don’t go.”

 She lay there, waiting for something or someone to come, until the tide had come in and began to lap over her. Only when the water started to go up her nose did she move, pushing herself up into a sitting position. The tears had dried on her face, the ocean waves washing some away, and she stared blankly at the water rolling over her.

 Sometimes, as it washed over her legs, she could see her reflection. White skin and hair, scarred with deep violet lines and marks. She brushed the white strands back out of her face. She didn’t look scary. She looked like Dad.

 “Clauds?”

 She glanced up at the sound of Soren’s voice, then back to her reflection only to find the scars gone and her complexion restored, black hair tucked behind her ears. She pushed herself to her feet, turning to find her brother standing on the beach a few steps away, beside her sand castle.

 “Clauds, are you okay?” he asked, giving her a worried look. He looked healthier, stronger. Like he did now. The spell had worked.

 She’d run to him, throwing her arms around him as he caught her. 

 “Woah!” he laughed. “You’re happy to see me.”

 “I missed you so much,” she said, holding him tight. “Don’t ever leave me.?

 “I’m not going anywhere.”

 Slowly she released him, and they sat on the sand together. He showed her where to find little seashells to decorate the castle and helped her dig a deeper moat.

 “So we can protect the castle,” he told her. “From the sand dragon!”

 She laughed, helping him build the monster at the gates and make little sand men to fight it. He growled as the dragon and she startled, but together they used the sand men to force it back, reducing it to just a lump of wet dirt. 

 “One day we’ll fight dragons for real,” Soren said, “and I’m going to slay one!”

 Claudia laughed, “Not if I beat you to it!”

 But no reply came and she looked up to find him gone, the sand castle before her crumbling into just more wet dirt, like the dragon had. 

 She stood quickly, panicked, “Soren? Soren!”

 “Claudia, what’s wrong?”

 She turned to find her father standing there, head tilted quizzically at her. She rushed to him, throwing her arms around his leg. 

 “I can’t find Soren.”

 “Ah,” her father sighed. “He left. Come with me.”

 She did as she was told, taking his hand and following him as he turned and began to walk into the water. It rose to cover her ankles, then her knees, until she was floundering through waist deep water. Waves crashed against her and pushed her back.

 “It’s too strong. I can’t-” her head went under for a moment and she resurfaced coughing.

 “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

 Her father led her onward, deeper and deeper, until only her head stuck out from the water. 

 “Daddy, I can-”

 She slipped, feet going out from under her, and plunged into the icy depths. She watched as the light disappeared from overhead, her hand slipping from her father’s grasp. Claudia reached up towards him as her eyes began to close, sinking deeper and deeper into the water. He reached down for her, plunging into the ocean to follow. Their fingers grazed each other, reaching desperately, and his hand closed around hers for a moment before they began to once again slip through one another’s-

 Claudia sat bolt upright in bed, sweat on her brow, gasping for air. Her father was kneeling beside her, hands wrapped tightly around her own, smaller one. 

 “Oh, thank the stars,” he sighed.

 She turned to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder as she fought to regain control of her breathing.  He tucked his arms around her in turn, holding her tight. 

 “It’s okay,” he whispered, gently. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. It was just a dream.”

[beauty-and-passion]

Do you believe there is any particular reason as to why women in Euclydia are not lines like they are in flatland? Like, Bill's mom is clearly a triangle too. Also why are women lines in flatland anyway what is that supposed to mean

I don't really remember if there was a specific reason why Women in Flatland are Lines - and if someone knows of a specific Victorian reason or a reason Abbott himself mentioned, then feel free to correct me.

Personally, I think Women are Lines because lines, half-lines and segments are all part of the Euclidean geometry. And since Abbott was talking about a 2D geometric society, he wanted to include that part of geometry too.

For the sake of the story itself, Women as Lines is a great choice: A Square, the protagonist of Flatland, spends a lot of time talking about Women and explains how their shape, despite being considered lesser than multilateral shapes like Squares, Pentagon, Polygons or Circles, is way, way more dangerous than theirs.

A Flatland Woman can potentially kill any shape: since their ends are pointy, they are basically invisible to a 2D creature's eye. So, if a Woman stands still, a Shape can potentially bump into her without noticing and, since she's so pointy, she can easily pierce through the shape (especially if it's a multilateral one) and kill it without any problem.

That's why Flatland Women have to constantly waggle their ends and signal their presence through vocalizations called "Peace-cry": because otherwise they would be invisible killers.

Also, they're subjugated to men because... well, of course they're not as mighty and multilateral as the Circles, who are the highest authority in this world. And since this world is based on the number of sides and regularity, Women can never be on the same level as Circles.

Speaking of that, I would like to cite this part regarding the Colour Bill, a historical event mentioned in the book: this bill proposed that every shape should be painted of different colors to identify them (and replace therefore the Recognition by Sight). But when talking about Women and Priest (aka Circles), the bill suggested they would be painted the same way:

"When it was objected that Priests and Women had no sides, they retorted that Nature and Expediency concurred in dictating that the front half of every human being (that is to say, the half containing his eye and mouth) should be distinguishable from his hinder half. They therefore brought before a general and extraordinary Assembly of all the States of Flatland a Bill proposing that in every Woman the half containing the eye and mouth should be coloured red, and the other half green. The Priests were to be painted in the same way, red being applied to that semicircle in which the eye and mouth formed the middle point; while the other or hinder semicircle was to be coloured green."

And yes, it's extremely ironic that the female sex, considered so ignorant and inferior compared to the high Priests, was put on their same level - if not above.

Of course this was all a satire that aimed to expose the awful situation of women in Victorian society. And I love how Abbott decided to do it: by implying women are much more powerful than the authoritarian figures - so powerful that if the Colour Bill passed, they would've easily gained status, power and knowledge, three things the authorities are taking away from them:

"At home they (Women) might hear political and ecclesiastical secrets intended not for them but for their husbands and brothers, and might even issue commands in the name of a priestly Circle; out of doors the striking combination of red and green, without addition of any other colours, would be sure to lead the common people into endless mistakes, and the Women would gain whatever the Circles lost, in the deference of the passers by."

Having said that... I really don't know why Euclydia's women are not Lines as well. Maybe it was a way to imply that, since this society is apparently more "evolved" compared to Flatland's, women and men have the same rights and social status. So there's no need to put them into a specific category and make a satire.

Also, this choice emphasizes the playful, "childish" vibe of this world: like a kid can put together two triangles and imagine they are a couple, so Bill's parents are both triangles because they have the same shape. It fits more with what we talked about in the previous ask, about Euclydia's colorful, less serious world/society.

Sure, there may be rules we're not aware of - maybe only Triangles can have Triangles as offspring in Euclydia - but for now, I think that's why women in Euclydia are shapes and not lines:

women and men have the same rights (so no need to build a satire like in Flatland)

the playful nature implied in this world

what Bill said in the AMA years ago, about his dimension having 14 billion genders: with so many genders, enclosing women into a specific shape would've been weird, I suppose