#fastest bear in the world

[lechrts]

Truly Madly Deeply. ✷ Ollie Bearman

Pairing: Ollie Bearman x Bff!reader

Summary: When a spontaneous evening hangout with your best friend Ollie reveals everything you’ve ever dreamed of.

Word Count: 2.5k

Vera’s Voice! Truly Madly Deeply by One Direction is the song ever so argue with the wall!!!! Hiiiii :3 first tumblr post ever. If it’s bad. Sorry. Idk.

& Hello. Shoutout Enya. Shoutout Bea.

Mindlessly reading a book in your swinging net chair hung in your room, your legs were crossed beneath your body as you hopelessly read about childhood soulmates.

Your heartbeat was gradually beating faster as you approached the page where the boy finally realizes he's been in love with his best friend the entire time.

Sitting at the edge of your seat, your body fluttered with butterfly’s, envying every single line your eyes followed among the pages.

But it’s too bad you were interrupted.

“Hi!” Ollie barged in unannounced, catching you so off guard that you stumble out of your seat and fall onto the floor.

You sat there for a brief second, trying to process and understand what was happening. Who just came into your room unannounced and why does it sound like Ollie? He wasn’t supposed to be back for another week? He had told you the night before he would be with Prema for a few more days..

But then it clicked— it really was him?

Looking up, you were met with Ollie’s signature grin, his curly hair seemed slightly damp, presumably from a shower. He was leaning against your doorframe like he had every right to be there, as if barging into your space without warning was completely justified.

“Miss me?” He teased, stepping inside without waiting for an answer.

You scrambled to your feet, heart hammering in your chest—not because of the book anymore, but because of him.

“What the hell?” You managed to sputter, clutching the paperback like it might steady you. “You’re supposed to be in Italy?!” He laughed. "Well, I lied. So I can surprise you."

Before you could even process the weight of his words, he was already closing the space between you, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, familiar hug. It was so him—effortless, comforting, grounding. And, as always, it left you speechless.

You found yourself hugging him back instinctively, burying your face in his sweatshirt, which smelled faintly of pastries and whatever cologne he always wore. For a moment, it was easy to forget the world outside of this.

Just you and Ollie, like it had always been.

“I've missed you,” He murmured against the top of your head, his voice soft.

Your stomach flipped. His words were light, nonchalant, but there was something in the way he said you that made you pause.

"Missed you too." You smiled.

As you pulled away, Ollie’s arms dropped to his sides, but the grin on his face only grew wider. His eyes flicked down to the book still clutched in your hands, his curiosity piqued.

“What are you reading?” He asked, leaning a little closer, his head tilting just enough to catch a glimpse of the cover.

You shook your head. “Nothing important!” Your voice was obviously guilty of something, your hands clutching the book tighter as you took a step back.

Ollie's brow quirked, his grin turning mischievous. “Nothing?"

You huffed, knowing you weren’t going to get out of this easily. “It’s just… a romance novel…”

His eyes lit up at that, a teasing smile turning downright devilish. “Oh, now I have to know,” He said, lunging forward with zero warning.

“Don’t you dare!” You shrieked, spinning around to shield the book, but it was too late. Ollie was faster, plucking it clean out of your hands and jumping back like a kid who’d just won a game of tag.

“Ollie!” You groaned, reaching for it, but he held it high above his head, flipping open to a random page.

His eyes scanned the lines quickly, and then he froze, his grin somehow widening further. “‘The boy looked at her like she hung the stars in the sky,’” He read aloud, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. Then, he glanced down at you, his expression ridiculously smug. “What’s this? A little wishful thinking?” "You're such an ass! Please stop." You were more than embarrassed at this point. You were mortified.

Ollie wasn’t done teasing. “You’re blushing,” He pointed out, his tone light but insufferably smug.

“I am not!” You snapped, snatching the book back from his hands and threw it across your room.

“Oh, you totally are. Don’t worry, though.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing some huge secret. “If it helps, I don’t think childhood soulmates are that unrealistic.”

Your heart stuttered, his words sending a confusing wave of butterflies through your stomach. But before you could respond��or even fully process what he’d just said—he straightened, clapping his hands together.

“Anyway,” He said, his tone abruptly casual, “We’re wasting precious daylight here.”

You blinked at him, completely thrown off. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on.” He grabbed your wrist, gently pulling you toward the door.

“Wait—what? No! I never agreed to go anywhere!” You tried to dig your heels into the carpet, but it was a half-hearted attempt at best. Resistance was futile when it came to Ollie, and you both knew it.

“You don’t have to agree,” He said breezily, tugging you along like it was the most natural thing in the world. “I’m your best friend. I’m basically entitled to hijack your evening whenever I feel like it.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, reluctantly following him.

“Yeah, but you love me for it.”

“Debatable.”

By the time you reached the stairs, you’d given up the fight entirely. At least you were dressed enough to leave the house—not that Ollie would have cared either way.

“Can I at least know where we’re going?” you asked as you descended the stairs, your voice laced with exasperation.

“Going somewhere?” Yourmom called from the family room, where she was cuddled up on the couch with your dad.

“Just the beach,” Ollie answered with an easy smile, not missing a beat.

Your mom chuckled, shaking her head fondly. “Why did I even ask? Have fun, you two!”

As soon as you were out of the house, Ollie released your wrist and started walking ahead, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie.

“Slow down! What’s your rush?” you asked, jogging slightly to catch up with him.

He slowed his pace to let you fall into step beside him, the warm summer air wrapping around you both. The sun was dipping lower in the sky, casting the street in hues of gold and orange.

“No rush, you've just got slow legs,” He said casually, glancing over at you with a grin that told you otherwise.

You rolled your eyes. "Not everyone is a high-performance racing driver." A scoff escaped from your lips.

He chuckled at your jab, his grin only widening. "And not everyone has the luxury of doing nothing all day."

You rolled your eyes again but couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at your lips. “It is not nothing,” You said, nudging your shoulder into his. “I did a lot. You know, during your absence.”

The way he raised an eyebrow caught your attention. "Oh? And what was that exactly?" He asked, his voice dripping with playful curiosity.

You shrugged, not wanting to admit how much you’d missed his company. “You know, homework, mostly. Reading.” You grinned slightly, waving your hand dismissively, though it was clear from the slight flush creeping up your neck that there was more to it.

The conversation drifted into silence for a moment as you both kept walking down the street. The sky above you was gradually darkening, the golden hue of the sunset slipping into soft pinks and purples.

You glanced at him, catching that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes, but this time, it felt like it held something more.

Was he acting this carefree to mask something? Was it just his usual self, or was there something he was hiding?

You didn’t know, but the two of you continued walking. The way his stride matched yours, the subtle glances he stole when he thought you weren’t paying attention—it all felt too intentional to be just casual.

You both arrived at an ice cream shop that sat near the shore, and Ollie was quick to order your favorite flavor—Stracciatella. It was such a small thing, but it made your heart skip. He knew you too well.

Soon, you followed him toward the shore, settling down on the rocky sand, the two of you enjoying your ice cream as the sun began to sink lower into the sky. The rhythmic sound of the waves crashing filled the space between you, and for a moment, it felt like time had slowed.

The casual silence between you and Ollie was comforting, but it didn’t stop the undercurrent of tension that lingered. You could feel his presence beside you, the warmth of his shoulder just brushing against yours. But neither of you said anything. It was almost like you didn’t need to.

You glanced at him again. There was something unspoken in the air—something he wasn’t saying, but you knew. You didn’t have to hear it to feel it. Ollie was always so easygoing, but now, there was a quiet heaviness in his gaze that you hadn’t noticed before.

Without a word, he gently draped his arm around you. It was the kind of gesture that had become second nature to him, but tonight it felt different—weighted with something unspoken. You leaned into him slightly, the warmth of his touch grounding you, but there was an undeniable tension in the air, thick enough that you could almost taste it. Neither of you spoke, but both of you felt the quiet, pulsing energy between you that had always been there but was now somehow heavier.

You didn’t look at him—you couldn’t, really. If you did, you were certain you wouldn’t be able to stop the fluttering in your chest. Instead, your gaze remained fixed on the fading light of the sunset, trying to steady your breath. But Ollie, ever perceptive, seemed to sense your unease.

After a moment, he spoke softly, breaking the silence, his voice carrying the same calm, measured tone it always did, but there was something in the way he said it—something that made you turn your attention to him, even before he continued.

“There’s been something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about for a while.”

You looked at him, curiosity piqued, but you stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue. He kept his gaze on the horizon, his voice softer now, almost as if speaking the words aloud made them more real.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot,” He said, his words barely above the sound of the waves. “More than I should, maybe.”

Your breath hitched, heart skipping a beat. “Thinking about me?” You echoed, not sure if you were imagining it.

“Yeah,” Ollie said, glancing over at you, his eyes serious but soft. “Especially, when I'm away." He let out a sigh from his nose, "Evert race weekend, every meeting, every day, I can’t stop thinking about you." "Ollie.." He ignored your attempted interruption, wanting to pour his heart out first. "I could be in the middle of complete chaos, but all I would really want is for you to at least be there—to be the one I can hug and celebrate with, or even be there for you because I always miss your important events.” He was rambling.

“No matter what’s happening, it’s you that’s always on my mind.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, his words sinking deep into you. He wasn’t just talking about the races; he was talking about you. About how much he wanted you by his side, how much you meant to him.

“And every time, when the day is all over,” He continued, his voice growing more confident, “I just wish you were at least there next to me. All the time. Just... sharing everything with me. You know?”

You swallowed, trying to steady your racing heartbeat. You had always been there for Ollie, cheering him on from home, or occasionally on the sidelines if you had a break from schooling to join him at a race, but you never imagined this—never imagined that he was feeling this way too.

“You know I’m always here for you, Ollie,” You said softly, leaning in a little closer, your voice barely above a whisper. Although his message was clear, a smidge of uncertainty still lingered.

He smiled, his eyes locking with yours, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “I know. But... it doesn't feel right yet? Not when I don’t have you the way I want.”

“The way you want?” You echoed softly, your brow furrowing slightly, trying to make sense of the weight of his confession.

He nodded, his gaze never wavering from yours. There was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, but beneath it, you could see the genuine emotions he was holding back, the ones he wasn’t used to showing. “I keep thinking that maybe there's a possibility to be... something more. But every time I want to say it, I’m not sure if it’s the right moment or if you feel the same way.”

You felt a rush of warmth in your chest, something between excitement and nervousness. The way he was speaking—so raw and open—made your heart race. You had been waiting for this, but never expected it to come like this.

“And what do you mean by more?” You asked, your voice barely more than a breath, your eyes searching his. Ollie nodded slowly. "Like.. being your boyfriend?" He said nervously, slowly glancing at you, looking into your eyes.

You blinked, your breath catching in your throat as his words hung in the air, so simple yet so full of meaning. The vulnerability in his voice made your heart thud against your chest. He was sitting there, uncertain, yet laying his feelings bare for you to see.

“Really?” You whispered, barely able to believe it. The question had been sitting on the tip of your tongue for so long, but hearing him say it out loud made it feel real. Made everything feel real.

He looked at you, his face flushed, eyes filled with a mix of hope and hesitation. “I know it might sound mad, but… I just… always think about the idea of us. Maybe I’ve been afraid to say it because I didn’t know if you felt the same way. But it doesn’t feel right, just being friends when… when all I really want is more than that.”

Your mind was about to explode. You had thought about this moment for so long, imagined it in countless ways, but never imagined it could feel this raw, this real. Your heart was pounding in your chest, the weight of his words making everything around you seem to slow down.

“Ollie,” You whispered, your voice trembling just slightly. You didn’t have to think twice, didn’t need to wonder if this was what you wanted. You had known for so long that it was him.

A soft laugh escaped your lips as you interlocked your arm around his. “It's about time you said something."

He smiled, his lips twitching into a nervous grin, his eyes still locked with yours, searching for something—some sign of what you were feeling.

But you didn’t even need to search. You already knew what you felt. You had known for so long, even when you tried to convince yourself otherwise. You took a deep breath, your chest tightening with the weight of everything you had been carrying.

“I’ve always loved you,” You said softly, almost like a confession you had been keeping locked away for too long. You felt the words settle in the space between you, like they belonged there. “More than anything.” “Truly, madly, deeply.”

comments , likes , & reblogs are appreciated ! ^_^ had fun writing this one even tho i’m not the biggest fan :P

tags! @planetpedri & @halfwayhearted ofc.

[a-leg-without-fear]

Threesome🔥

going a bit off script on day 2 because i'm a HEATHEN anyway enjoy

Ship: Worst!Logan Howlett x f!Reader x Wade Wilson

Rating: 18+

Wordcount: 776

Warnings: cursing, smut, threesome, Wade Wilson is his own warning, unprotected PiV, anal (f!receiving), use of petnames, kissing, cocaine mention

Series: Leg's Tuna Tober

Your mind was fucking shattered.

Deep, guttural grunts rumbled from Logan beneath you with every deliberate thrust. Sharp canines scraped along your overheated skin. Whispers of "you're doing so good, baby" filtered from between his clenched teeth. His sweat-drenched skin was nearly sticking to yours due to your proximity. Barely a centimeter of space was left between the two of you.

It didn't help that Wade was on top of you, thrusting into you from behind, bearing his full weight on you as his hands fisted in the sheets. His wet tongue traced down your spine. Shivers erupted across your back in brutal waves.

"That's a good girl. Taking us so well. Isn't she, Wolvie?" Wade mused, voice muffled from where his lips connected with your skin. You gasped as a quick hitch in Wade's thrust nearly jostled Logan out of you.

"Watch it, red," Logan growled quietly. His large palms clung to your hips in near desperation. Gripping at your skin so tight you knew there'd be bruises in the morning. Not that you minded.

A light laugh rumbled against your back, "Feeling possessive, are we, Lo? Afraid I'll take our sunflower away from you?"

"Just shut up and fuck her, will you?" Logan said over your shoulder. He pressed a quick "sorry" behind your ear with a gentle kiss. You couldn't help the quiet moan that leaked from your throat.

"Let's make a game of it, shall we?" was all the warning Wade gave before he suddenly pulled out. You whined at how empty you now felt, craving both of them inside you every waking moment of your life. Wade ran a gentle hand down your back, "Shh, it's alright, angel cakes. I just wanna see if Lo-Lo's up to the task."

"The fuck is wrong with you, Wade?" Logan asked, propping himself up on his elbows to throw the merc a heavy glare. Now no one was focused on fucking you. You muttered obscenities under your breath as you buried your nose in Logan's shoulder. These two couldn't stop bickering for five minutes, let alone a whole night with just the three of you.

"I just wanted to challenge you, Mr.Not-a-Duke. Which of us do you think can make our sunbeam here come the fastest?" Wade offered with a cocky grin you could hear.

Logan scoffed, shaking his head, "I think you already know the answer to that."

"Yeah, and it'd be me," Wade returned.

"You must've taken some brain damage, because you know it'd be me," Logan bit back.

You groaned against Logan's neck, then nipped at the thin skin under his jaw, "Will someone please just fuck me?"

A shudder rolled over Logan's shoulders. He peered down at you through narrowed eyes. You could practically feel the seconds tick by as he remained still, just staring at you. Unease settled around your ribs. Logan was an impossible man to read, even at the best of times. When his pupils were blown, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, and his cock was inside you, it was even more difficult to gauge what he was thinking.

"Start a timer," he instructed Wade, gaze never leaving you. Arousal reignited in your abdomen like a stoked bonfire.

"Yes sir," Wade said with a wide smile. You heard rustling behind you as Wade grabbed one of the three phones on the nightstand.

The world spun without warning as you were flipped on your back. A gust of air shot from your lungs at the impact with the bed. Soft lips brushed along the skin under the hinge of your jaw.

"Go easy on me, huh? Wanna prove Wade wrong," Logan whispered in your ear. Flames licked at your skin, goosebumps rising in the wake of the Wolverine's gentle touch. Callused fingers grazed over you as light as feathers.

"I haven't started the timer yet, cheater! Any more unsportsmanlike behavior and I'll lock you out," Wade groused loudly. Logan breathed a chuckle along your collarbone.

"I'll just break the door down," he said as he threw you a wink. It took every bone in your body to keep your eyes from rolling back in your head.

"Break another door and Blind Al'll hide the cocaine again. When she hides shit, that stuff stays gone," Wade mumbled indignantly. Logan ignored the merc, fingers trailing ever-so slowly down your sensitive skin. A choked moan kicked out of your chest when Logan's thigh brushed against your swollen clit. Wade's wrinkled hand entered your periphery as he tapped on Logan's cheek, "Did you hear me, resident senior citizen? No cheating!"

It was going to be a long, long night.

may need to continue this in a future fic...

taglist: @ripleyswife @just-a-nightdreamer @venomqueen2002 @c1eepypas1a @www-interludeshadow-com

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[cartoonquintet]

Hannah-Barbera Tag Dump

[shirefantasies]

How the Fellowship Act Around Their Crush (GN!Reader)

Hello friends! Kicking off my blog with some cute headcanons for my favorite people- hope you enjoy 😄

Aragorn

✧ One of the least obvious for sure 😅 we love a strong silent type but unfortunately that means you’ll have to be reading in on his actions

✧ Checks in on you a lot, just making sure you’re feeling alright and not hiding any burdens because he wants to carry those.

✧ Teaches you all he knows about the world’s botany when he notices your curiosity, pointing out what plants are poisonous, which the elves use for healing, and which can be made into tea. Snags a few to make you said tea at the earliest convenience 😌

✧ Will be the one to drape his cloak over you if you get cold. Not the type to stop others from doing it, but boy will he be the fastest by far!

✧ Has the habit of letting his fingers linger over yours just a bit longer than necessary when he hands things off to you or presses small items into your hands.

✧ Is the best with his words. He’ll reassure you if you feel insecure that you have a strength and beauty you bring to this world that no one else does, that the time you are in does not define you as a whole, that all have roles to play here.

Legolas

✧ Least obvious part 2! Another who is more silent about things…at least at first! If you understand Elvish, you may catch him searching for advice from Aragorn on if he should speak of it or not.

✧ Almost always defers to your word/opinion whether it’s where to stop or simply how you’d like to spend the rest of the evening.

✧ Shows off just a smidge 🤏🏻 when he knows you’re looking, like no, he doesn’t have to impale three orcs with the same arrow three different ways but did you think it was cool? Then yes he did. Still his face colors with surprised, joy, and amusement when you react with awe.

✧ “Wow, beautiful,” you breathe as your eyes scan the stars, glittering constellations and distant galaxies winking above you. “Indeed,” Legolas responds softly, but if you happen to peer at him from the peripheries of your vision at just the right time you’ll see the glance he surreptitiously slides to you.

✧ Holds open every door for you, slides back every chair, serves you at every meal, like this prince is peak gentleman and nothing less!

✧ Whispers joking observations about the rest of the fellowship, especially Gimli, that he usually keeps to himself into your ear as you sit together during mealtimes. This creates a whole slew of inside jokes between you two and much confusion over what you could possibly be laughing at.

Boromir

✧ Not over-the-top, but he figures what’s the point if you never figure anything out? Definitely wants to drop hints for you 😌

✧ Places a kiss to the back of your hand when he first meets you, telling you it is truly an honor.

✧ “Here, allow me,” he’ll say as he gently takes whatever burden you bear whether it’s bundles of firewood or even your bag on a particular rough day of travel.

✧ Happily shares tales of Gondor’s splendor with you and insists he’ll take you there and show you himself someday. Asks in turn for stories of your home and all your favorite things about it. Even if he can never visit, Boromir is determined to find a way to bring a piece of your home to you someday- anything to make you feel like you’re there again.

✧ Offers you his arm when you two walk side-by-side, guiding you with a firm, warm grip that keeps you feeling secure.

✧ Always places himself between you and danger, stepping in front of you with his sword and shield in hands and even shifting you back with a hand upon your waist.

Gimli

✧ You’re going to figure it out pretty quickly. He’e comically vocal as we all know, but also incredibly smooth when he wants to be…and boy does he want to be 👀

✧ Drops a lot of hints about how dwarves are the warmest, heartiest lovers and best providing partners! “We’ve the grandest of halls and sturdiest of bodies, after all!”

✧ Literally always has your back, like he is more aware of any threats to you than you are. It’s nearly impossible to count how many times he’s slashed an orc you hadn’t even seen off your back, giving you a triumphant nod and an “Anytime, Lassie/Laddie!”

✧ Laughs at every single joke you tell so hard you can’t help but puff up in pride at your sense of humor, nudging your shoulder with his.

✧ “Oh, stay still, you’ve got something in your hair…” Proceeds to remove it in the most tender and intimate manner you’ve ever experienced.

✧ Asks you to look him in the eyes before a big fight because, in his words, if that’s the last thing he looks upon before going out it’ll all be worth it.

Frodo

✧ Has no idea what he is doing honestly. Has never felt this way before and wasn’t sure if he ever would, so his demeanor around you suddenly becomes shy, almost withdrawn.

✧ Your self-appointed nurse. Tends your wounds silently but with the most caring, gentle touch and gaze fluttering back and forth between your wound and your expression with those big blue eyes.

✧ Goes on walks every now and again when everybody’s camped. After a while of seeing you watch him off, Frodo plucks up the courage to invite you to join him on one.

✧ Embarrassed as he is at first, he is encouraged by your eager eyes when you ask what he’s reading, shyly admitting it’s some poetry he loves. Ends up reciting you the whole thing, looking into your eyes intently as he wishes to actually be confessing each of those flowery words.

✧ Grabs your hand to lead you places whenever he finds something you just have to see! Blushes about it after the fact but in the moment the excitement just takes over him and he doesn’t even think about it.

✧ Begins sharing concerns and deeper thoughts with you once he trusts you as a sort of sign of that feeling. He hopes you understand that he doesn’t disclose to just anyone.

Sam

✧ He wants to talk to you so bad, but also you’re the most gorgeous person he’s ever seen and how does he do that??? So sweet and attentive with his gaze when you do talk, so that could clue you in.

✧ He definitely gives you the biggest and best of anything he prepares, smiling softly at you as he dishes it up!

✧ Offers to tell you stories of The Shire, especially if you’ve never visited it yourself, and you can see the love for it in his eyes as much as you can hear it in his voice. Shares a few about his old Gaffer, too!

✧ Trips over his words from time to time. He’ll accidentally say the wrong thing and nervously try to laugh it off not realizing how adorable he looks when he blushes ☺️

✧ Sees a pretty flower on the road and immediately thinks of you, plucking it up and twirling it thoughtfully before extending it your way gently, naming his discovery as he does so.

✧ Would give you the shirt off his back if you wanted or needed. Offers you things from his bags a lot ranging from supplies that can ease your passage on this trip to the last of the sweets from The Shire he’d thrown in his pack pockets. Any task you don’t want to do Sam is jumping up to do for you!

Merry

✧ Medium obvious because he makes it his mission to get close to you and hype you up. If you’re oblivious or cynical it could be mistaken as him just being friendly, but it can’t come as a shock the way he’s so eager for your presence!

✧ Acts like you being amazing at things you’ve never even done is a foregone conclusion, like it could be your first time firing with a bow and he’ll be telling everyone what a natural you’ll be, urging you to go on and show them!

✧ Faintly embodies the old adage ‘if they tease you, that means they like you’. He sometimes makes up stories to see if you believe him, chuckling merrily when you do but quickly giving up the ghost again so you don’t have the wrong idea. Others he’ll just poke fun at things you say and egg all of your jokes on, too!

✧ Winks at you on the off time you two make eye contact with each other.

✧ Holds out his hand to you and gives a small bow every time he invites you to dance, asking if he may have it with a devilishly charming grin before he pulls you close.

✧ Whisks you away when he wants you to himself, taking you on a sightseeing adventure or even just foraging. Turns it into an over-the-top skit of him searching and protecting you from the threats of the forest that has you giggling!

Pippin

✧ Oh, you’ll be able to tell! He tries his best to be smooth and is super complimentary and generally wants to be around you 25/8. Even if it comes across goofy, you have to give him props for being forward with his intentions 😌

✧ Practically jumps out of his seat to be the one to help you with anything, whether it’s going fishing, gathering berries or firewood, getting some training in…you name it, he wants to be there for you if you need him!

✧ You may catch him staring at you, whether it’s in awe of your beauty or just straight-up checking you out depends on his mood, but his eyes are almost always flicking back to you in idleness.

✧ Remembers every single detail you share about yourself, like EVERY SINGLE ONE. Knows all your preferences by heart and frequently suggests playing your favorite game or offering to sing your favorite song, likely with an invitation to dance too! Pippin will chime in about your dislikes or allergies before even you can.

✧ Casually begins breaking touch barriers with small gestures like putting a hand on your shoulder during a mock apology for his cousin’s behavior or sitting with your arms brushing. If you don’t seem to mind, he’ll get bolder, slinging an arm over your shoulders during a jolly moment!

✧ Not afraid of compliments, definitely not! Unabashedly (well, mostly anyway, he hides a blush well) tells you that color looks great on you or what a pretty face you’ve got just in casual conversation.

[poetslastdeath]

john and higher ranking reader (i don’t specify the current day rank but it’s very much implied to be higher than his)

heavy hints of dom reader, fem leaning reader this time (couldn’t choose so i flipped a coin and went with fem), cute and short

—————————

reader and john who have known each other since you were just recruits, both grown from hyper soldiers with stars in your eyes to stoic war hardened soliders with more scars than freckles, have known the deafening sound of gunshots longer than you knew compassion.

his youth died years after yours did, you were already a lieutenant then being looked up at by a fumbling yet smooth sergeant price. always a step behind you, always filling the silent air between you too, unrelenting and bright as a dying sun. you wanted to protect that, hold it close, hold and cradle that fire for a little longer until the winds picked up and blew it all away.

it did either way, you watched then left.

better to let him sit alone then look far too close at you, at everything you’ve done, at how you could so easily hurt him but didn’t it every time. look at that stupid thing foolishly named love.

the twin old decaying thing is your chests, some may call it innocence but one far wiser than anyone should be would call it humanity. so you drifted, climbed the ranks, making it farther than a younger you could have guessed. you and john met sparsely after that.

however something always lingered, something else between you two though it only actually played out a few times when it boiled over, usually his poor knees took the brunt of those encounters. some could call it love or lust or they could call it two far too damaged people who cave into each other like waves crashing against rocks. calloused hand in calloused hand.

john, who gets himself into trouble— on the way over you can only sigh without surprise, he was hotheaded in his twenties but now he’s as slow and burning as molten lava— and has to call in a favor to bail him and his team out.

and when you walk in, you’re the only one that notices his slight stutter of breath, chest aching with heavy lingering smoke. it’s like the gravity around you pulls, the world twisting to meet your every step, and eyes are snapped over to you and held like they can do nothing else.

then that’s when the 141 boys know the now slightly deflated shepherd and graves stand no chance.

and they don’t, they fold because they can do nothing against the raspy honey of your voice, it’s allure sounding like a spiders web, thinly veiled poison dripping from cracked lips.

it doesn’t take long, not when you tilt your head as shepherd freezes so still he looks like a statue when you start naming dates and times. insignificant to anyone else, but you know. he knows. anyone could see the threats laid like bear traps behind your words.

and with a fake barely there smile, shepherd and his mutt leave with the slamming of the door.

it’s tense, not quite as tense as when shepherd was in the room, but it’s still like the rest of them don’t quite know what to do with you now, turning to look at their captain then at their lieutenant when john’s eyes are locked on the side of your head.

you look over, meeting his gaze with heavy unreadable eyes, knowing far too well now that keeping emotions in your eyes is the fastest way to having someone kill the light in them.

“thank you, love.” he rasps, you raise an eyebrow and he pauses. glancing away to consider his next steps from here.

“ma’am. thank you, ma’am” he corrects smoothly like he had never said anything else, so naturally that it makes you want to hear his low rough tone whisper it on repeat until he can’t speak.

you nod, eyes flickering over to his team. “hm, pleasure to help.”

they shift, uncomfortable and clearing untrusting of your heavy calculating stare. though you hardly mean to, by now it’s hard to help yourself from making observations almost idly, like how the one you know is “ghost” stands far closer with one of the men then the other one.

you look away from them and back over at john, you shift your weight from one foot to the other and turn in his direction. he follows every movement carefully with shadowed deep eyes.

“i’m done here. you can clear up your own mess, can’t you?” you hear one of his boys shuffle before a hand is placed on his arm in a tight grip, like he was seconds away yelling. you pay no mind to it, far to busy for a puppy’s biting at your ankle.

“i’ll send you a gift.” you pause, watching john again. “a little something about shepherd so his leash should shorten.”

he exhales, careful and slow. you don’t quite know what he’s thinking, no matter how good you’ve gotten he’s also improved.

“thank you, ma’am” he repeats, tilting his head forward. you smile, walking forward, glancing at the clock behind him.

you mumble, “hm, call me if you need me further.”

and when you pass him, you lean over to whisper in his ear, words carefully crafted just for him. “oh and if you want something, then ask for it, baby.”

his shaky exhale tells you everyone you need to know. the door shutting behind you is perfectly timed with his mind sliding back into captain mode.

it’s a pity, he’s far prettier when he isn’t in control.

[faithshouseofchaos]

Inspired by the Mexican GP, can you write something about Lydia and Checo and Carola kids having a play date?? Please

.

I’d rather have the trophy— Lydia Verstappen princess of the paddock part 13

Word count— 1113

Fluff

Other tag list — @ashy-kit @astraeaworld @alwayzbeenale @a-casual-romantic @bblouifford @bbtoni @barcelonaloverf1life e @charlesf1leclerc @crashingwavesofeuphoria @dark-night-sky-99 9 @dudenhaaa27 @eugene-emt-roe @embrosegraves @entr4p3 @formulas-bitch @formulaal @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @hangmandruigandmav @hollie911 @ironcowboycopnickel @laura-naruto-fan1998 @lightdragonrayne @moss-on-tmblr @laneyspaulding19 @omgsuperstarg @oconswrld d @otako5811 @starkwlkr @strugglingyetvibing @sweate-r-weathe-r @swifth0lic @toasttt11 @the-ghost-lovwr @tallrock35 @uluvjay @vellicora @venusisnothere @ladymarvel27 @mclarennerd1645 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @badassturtle13 @clowngirlsstuff @jeffs77 @amatswimming

The Mexico Grand Prix weekend was buzzing with excitement, but away from the action of the track, there was a quieter world where three small friends were having their kind of fun. Behind the bustling garages, tucked away from the noise of the engines and the frenzy of race day, a small, secret space had been transformed into their play area. It was a little hideaway just for them—far from the eyes of photographers and fans.

Lydia Verstappen, all of five years old with her hair blowing in skipped along, was the first to arrive. She was always a little ahead of the game when it came to finding the best spots to play. Her sparkling blue eyes scanned the area with excitement as she waited for her friends.

“Lydia!” A voice called out, and she turned to see Sergio Jr., Checo Pérez’s six-year-old son, running toward her. His wide smile was as contagious as ever, and his dark hair stuck out from under his racing cap.

“Hi, Sergio!” Lydia waved enthusiastically.

“Guess what I brought?” Sergio’s eyes were practically shining with mischief as he opened his hands to reveal a shiny, new toy race car; it was a replica of his dad's car. “It’s the fastest one ever!”

Lydia’s eyes widened. “Wow, it’s so cool! You’re gonna race it with me, right?”

Before Sergio could answer, a small voice piped up from behind them.

“I want to race, too!” It was Carlota, Checo’s four-year-old daughter, holding a plush bear in one hand and a toy car in the other. Her curly hair bounced with every step as she ran to join them, her face lighting up with excitement.

“Carlota!” Lydia exclaimed. “You’re here! Let’s all race together!”

Carlota nodded vigorously. “Yes! But my bear has to come, too,” she said, holding up her toy.

Sergio Jr. grinned. “We’ll make him the driver,” he suggested with a wink, carefully placing the plush bear in the driver’s seat of the toy car. “Now he��s ready to race.”

The three of them quickly set up a “track” using lines drawn in chalk on the pavement behind the garage, where the cars usually lined up for the race. It was a simple track, with loops, turns, and a big finish line that they drew with bright yellow chalk. The rules were simple: no one could go faster than the others, and everyone had to cross the finish line at the same time—no one was allowed to win today.

The trio stood at the start of their track, ready to race.

“On your mark, get set…” Lydia began, counting down with her tiny fingers. “Go!”

All three cars shot forward, rolling across the pavement. Carlota’s bear bobbed up and down as it sped along, while Sergio Jr. steered his toy car with impressive precision. Lydia was focused too, her toy car bumping along with determination.

They zoomed around the loop, racing through the turns. Sergio Jr. was slightly faster, but Lydia was clever and always knew how to take the corners just right. Carlota, with her bear in the driver’s seat, giggled as her car wobbled and swerved.

“Slow down, bear!” Carlota called, but it was more of a joyful laugh than a command. She wasn’t in a hurry. The game wasn’t about winning—it was about playing together.

Lydia glanced over at Carlota, then slowed her car just enough so they could all stay together. “I think we’re tied,” she said seriously.

Sergio Jr. looked at her, then at Carlota, who was giggling uncontrollably. “Okay, let’s pretend we all won,” he said, grinning. “The race is a tie!”

They all burst out laughing, collapsing into a pile on the soft grass at the side of their makeshift track. Carlota rolled onto her back, holding her bear up in the air as if it had just finished the best race in history.

“This is so much fun!” Lydia said, her cheeks flushed with joy.

Carlota nodded, still giggling. “We’re the best team ever!”

Sergio Jr. agreed, still catching his breath. “Next, we should race to the big trees!” He pointed to a line of tall trees in the distance. “We can make a new track.”

Just then, Lydia’s dad, Max Verstappen, walked by, looking over his shoulder at the sound of the laughter. He smiled when he saw the kids playing behind the garage.

“Hey, you three,” Max called, walking over to them. “What are you up to back here? Shouldn’t you be cheering for the race?”

Lydia jumped up to hug her dad. “We’re racing too, Papa! But with cars, not like you. Our race was the best!”

Max knelt to her level and smiled, his eyes soft with affection. “I’m sure it was. Who won?”

Lydia shrugged dramatically. “We all won!” she said, holding out her hands to include Sergio Jr. and Carlota in the victory.

Max chuckled, then looked at Sergio Jr., who was still holding his race car. “Did you guys get a good look at the real cars out there? The ones your dads drive?”

Sergio Jr. nodded eagerly. “Yeah! They go fast. But our cars are faster!”

Carlota joined in. “Our cars are magic fast!” she declared with a grin.

Max smiled warmly at them, clearly enjoying the scene. “Well, as long as you all know how to have fun, you’re already winners in my book.”

At that moment, Checo Pérez strolled over, having heard the laughter and seeing Max talking to the kids.

“You three are keeping things lively back here, I see,” Checo said with a playful smile.

“Yeah, we’re racing!” Sergio Jr. told him proudly. “But we are all tied!”

Checo laughed and gave a small bow. “Then you’ve all earned a trophy. What kind of trophy do you want?”

“A huge, golden one!” Carlota exclaimed, her arms wide.

“Maybe a shiny one like my car!” Lydia added, her eyes sparkling.

“Maybe next time,” Checo said, chuckling. “But you know, the best prize is the fun you’re having right now.”

Lydia squinted her eyes playfully and scrunched her nose at Checo’s comment, a mischievous smile spreading across her face. She paused for a moment, considering his words, before responding with a lighthearted tone, “No, I think I’d rather have a trophy instead!” She says.

Checo let out a long, weary sigh, the weight of his defeat heavy on his shoulders. He looked at her, his expression a mix of resignation and understanding. "You are your father’s daughter," he said, his voice tinged with both admiration and frustration. The words hung in the air, a reflection of the undeniable resemblance she bore to the man who had shaped her life.

[tightjeansjavi]

The Menu | Part 2

“like an angel to me”

A/N: so I think this is the fastest I have ever written something in awhile! Every time I think there’s no possible way for me to want Joel even more, I surprise myself with something like this 🥴

~word count : 5.3k~

Pairing | dark! Joel Miller x f! reader

Summary: after showing up to Joel’s apartment late one night, he gives you exactly what you’re seeking.

Warnings: dubcon/teetering on noncon (the lines are pretty blurred but I just want to be safe) coercion, manipulation, mind games, degradation, a sprinkle of misogyny, possession, ownership, dominance, humiliation, reader goes from being a dom to a sub real quick, brat tamer, praise kink, size kink, blood kink??, spitting kink, unprotected PIV, rough sex, breeding kink, creampie, light spanking, oral (male receiving) little to no foreplay, some aftercare??, Joel is an asshole, delulu! Joel, cockslut, whore, bitch, are all used. Age gap, Joel is in his 40’s reader is in late 20’s, reader has no physical descriptions, readers nickname is Angel, this story might not be for everyone, and that’s okay! Please heed the warnings! If I have missed any, PLEASE let me know. +18 minors dni!

The last thing Joel Miller expected you to do was laugh. Not just giggle, or a snicker, no. It was a full on wheezing laugh.

“Oh my fuckin’ god. You’re not actually serious, are you? Wow, is this supposed to make my panties wet or something? Cus’ it’s sure doin’ the complete opposite!”

His face turned beet red all the way to the tips of his ears. The glass that was clenched firmly in his fist was on the verge of shattering. Guess he couldn’t handle his fragile ego being busted open, huh?

“Y’think you’re so funny, huh?” His confidence was wavering on thin ice as he reached for the bottle instead.

“Oh, yeah. I think I am absolutely fucking hysterical. What? You don’t get your dick wet enough around here as it is? Oh, shit! Is it because your dick is small? It’s alright, Joel. Most women don’t care about size anyway.” You were smirking through your teeth as you sipped away at what was left in your glass.

The glowering man sitting across from you took one harsh swig from the bottle before he cracked his neck to the side. “I get my dick wet around here plenty. Thank you for showin’ some concern though. Ain’t you just a real peach? Why even mention my dick size, huh? Ask any woman around here and they’ll all tell you that I am well endowed.” He nearly growled as he slammed the bottle down along the coffee table.

“Geez, don’t go and get your panties all in a twist, Miller. I have no interest in knowing anything that has to do with you dick, I assure you. God, I swear all men, even after the world has gone to shit, are the same. Y’can’t handle someone busting your ego? Well, aren’t you just some delicate fuckin’ china.” You scoffed and placed your glass down on the coffee table like a dignified person.

Oh, you didn’t just bust his ego, you shattered it right down to the core. He could handle some bruising, sure. But god, if he didn’t want to tear you into two right now—

“Maybe I shoulda let those men in the alley fuckin’ tear you apart, since you think this is so fuckin’ funny. D’ya have any fuckin’ manners at all?! I risked MY fuckin’ skin to save your own and this is how you’re gonna act?!” His voice boomed through the thin apartment walls. He expected you to cower. To profusely apologize for poking the angry bear. Instead, you stood your ground.

“Maybe you should have! You could have just minded your own and let them fuck me up, but instead you what? Wanted to be the hero?! I never asked you to come and rescue me, Joel! Y’want me to say thank you? Fine. Thank you oh so much for saving me, Joel Miller! How can I ever repay you?” You mockingly batted your lashes, followed by an eye roll as you rose to your feet.

“Yeah, well, next time I ain’t gonna be there to save your skin! So, why don’t you jus’ go on back out into the streets, and see what happens!” He shook his head tightly as his jaw clenched like a fist.

“Great! That’s the best news ever because like I just said, I never asked you to rescue me!” You yelled exasperatedly as you made your way over to the door. Your head still throbbed, and your nose felt like a million tiny shards were digging into the flesh, but you’d much rather spend a night in lock up than another minute with this man.

“Great! Jus’ be on your way then, girlie!” He grumbled through his teeth.

“Oh, and Joel? For the sake of all the women in the QZ, why don’t you just keep your dick in your fuckin’ pants.” You gave him the middle finger before yanking his apartment door open. “Do not fuckin’ follow me home.” Was the last thing you said before you slammed the door behind you on the way out.

“Oh, don’t you worry! I ain’t gonna follow your bratty, disrespectful, no good—” he was cut off by the apartment door swinging shut so hard, it nearly fell off the hinges.

For good measure, the brooding bear got up from where he was sitting and locked the apartment door just in case you thought about coming back. Not that you were going to as you were already halfway across the QZ street heading home.

Joel Miller did not see you again for what felt like months (not really. He’s just a bit dramatic is all) when all in all reality, it had been two weeks to the date. He thought maybe you had died, or worse; He thought that maybe there was a chance that you got infected. Good riddance.

But then Tess told him that you were in fact alive, but avoiding him.

Joel knew why of course. He was quite the dickhead during your last interaction. Tess couldn’t really blame you for wanting absolutely nothing to do with Joel Miller ever again.

Business carried on like usual on their end even without your addictive charm in the mix.

You fucked a FEDRA soldier for extra ration cards just out of spite, and to get Joel Miller’s stupid face eliminated from your brain permanently. If you ever ran into that man again, you wanted to be smelling of another man’s cum just to rile him up all over again.

You wanted to crawl right up into his skin. Cover him in welts and hives to drive him mad. Hell, you wanted to poison him and leave him without the antidote. Fuckin’ Joel Miller and his stupid Texas twang and those piercing brown eyes and massive hands.

Perhaps that’s how you found yourself outside his apartment door late one night searching for a vice to be filled again.

You knocked once, then paused and knocked twice.

This is fucking stupid. What the hell am I doing?

When you heard no immediate answer from the other side of the door, you assumed that he wasn’t home and proceeded to turn on your heel to walk away—

The door squeaked open as Joel Miller's head appeared from the doorway.

“Fancy seein’ you here tonight, Angel.” He rasped deeply. You couldn’t even see his face yet, and you just knew he had a shit eating grin plastered on it.

“Miller.” You acknowledged him with a tight nod when you finally turned to face him.

He was leaning against the door jamb with his arms crossed and brow raised curiously.

“And what is it exactly that you're showin’ up here for?” He knows, of course. He’s known for awhile, but he wants to hear you say it first.

“Somethin’ that I heard you have to personally ask for. Somethin’ that isn’t advertised on your little menu here, Joel.”

his lips curve upwards in a wolfish grin. He cocks his chin to the side as his broad arm comes to rest along the chipped wood on the doorframe.

“Was wonderin’ when you’d finally give in, Angel.” He rasps. Thick and deep. His words hang heavy in the sultry air.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at his response as you crossed your arms against your chest. “Okay, well, you don’t need to be all mysterious about it. Now, can I come in, please?”

“I see you're still at it with being a disrespectful brat, huh?” He pushed himself off the side of the doorframe so that you could make your way inside. The door was pulled shut behind you with a soft woosh of air.

“Yep, and I all I could think about these past few weeks of you fuckin’ the disrespectful brat right out of me, Joel.”

I fuckin’ knew it.

“Oh, I see. So, that’s what you’ve been up to all these weeks is thinkin’ about me?” He awaited your answer with a bated breath.

“No.” You deadpanned with a faux sigh. “Was too busy fucking a FEDRA officer for some ration cards. Didn’t have enough space in my brain to think about you setting me straight.” You teased with a smirk playing on your lips.

His fists clenched at his sides as his jaw tightened. The thought of you fucking another man, let alone a FEDRA officer?

“Hmm. Is that so? Well, I think you’re lyin’ through your teeth right now, Angel.” He wasn’t about to let you get under his skin that easily.

“Me? A liar? Oh, I’m truly wounded. C’mere, Joel. I bet you can still smell him on me.” You purred softly.

His eye twitched as he imagined you screaming another man’s name as you rode his cock—

He took a few steps towards you and backed you right up against the countertop. He dipped his head down towards your face as his hands came to rest along either side of the cool countertop. His nostrils flared as he inhaled your scent with his nose pressed deeply into the clavicle of your throat. “Did ya fuck him before you showed up here? Answer me, Angel. And y’better tell the truth.” His voice dropped an octave that shamelessly sent a pool of arousal dripping through your panties.

“Mhm. I fucked him before I showed up here. His cum is still inside of me, Joel. Y’gonna fill me up too?”

His teeth grazed the spot where your neck met your collarbone as he dragged his hot tongue across your skin. “S’that what Y’want?”

“Sure.” You shrugged almost disinterested.

“That ain’t how this works. Y’tell me exactly what it is that you want from me, and I deliver. Y’got that?” He asked you sternly as the bridge of his nose dragged upwards across your throat.

“Ah. So the women you fuck tell you what they want, and that’s all you do to them? Well, where’s the fun in that? Seems kinda boring to me, Joel.”

“Y’don’t like my rules, then y’can fuckin’ leave. That’s how things work around here, baby. So, I’ll ask y’again, what do you want from me?”

“Hold on. Hold on, cowboy. Pump the breaks. What if the thing they’re requesting is something you’re not interested in? You still do it? What about the things that you want? Ain’t that important in all this?”

“God, you’re annoyin’, y’know that? Can you just answer the goddamn question? I ain’t have all night.” He grumbled impatiently.

Then you did something that neither of you expected. You reached your hand up between your nearly touching bodies and grabbed ahold of his jaw tightly between your fingers and forced him to look directly into your eyes. “No. Fuck that. The world has gone to shit and you’re not thinkin’ of your own desires? Man, don’t you wanna be in charge for once? You think I’m so annoying and nothin’ but a disrespectful brat? Then show me what you do to women like me. Put me in my place, Joel.” You challenged him.

It was as if something inside of him had snapped. Maybe you were right. Maybe he oughta put you in your place after all. Why only be half in charge of how things played out, when he could take the whole cake himself?

“Alright. We’ll play the game my way then.” He chuckled darkly as his knuckles turned stark white from how hard he was gripping either side of the countertop.

As soon as you went to open your mouth, one of his hands clamped down instantly as he leaned in close. “Startin’ with shuttin’ this smart fuckin’ mouth of yours up. Yeah, ain’t so tough now, are ya Angel? Didn’t think so. Now, I’m only gonna ask you once, alright? Get. On. Your. Fuckin.’ Knees. Now.” He commanded you.

You dropped to your knees like an obedient dog on a leash waiting to be rewarded with a treat.

“Wow, would ya look at that. Guess the bitch can be obedient after all.” He chuckled.

Your eyes narrowed slightly at his new demeanor. You weren’t one for teasing, and right now Joel Miller was testing your patience.

“Don’t go lookin’ at me like that. You’re the one who showed up at my door, remember? This ain’t goin’ fast enough for you? Well, we’ll just see about that.” He tsked under his breath as his hand moved from your mouth to resting along your jaw.

“Open.” He commanded you as he applied a bit of pressure to either side of your cheeks. When you obediently opened your mouth, he praised you. “Good girl.” Followed by a light loving slap to your cheek. “Now, the way I see it is that you have three holes for me to fuck.”

His grin intensified when your eyes widened at his suggestion. It wasn’t that..you were afraid but if he wanted to fuck you in the ass at some point, you’d need to be ready for him.

“Oh ho ho. I see. You ain’t ever done that before? Hmm. I’m surprised that a mouthy bratty whore such as yourself hasn’t had a cock in her ass before. Well, maybe we’ll save that for another time.” He leaned down so he was closer to your face as the blunt ends of his fingernails dug into the skin on your cheeks. His lip curled up into a snarl as his pupils darkened. “But then again, I am supposed to be puttin’ you in your place. Ain’t I, Angel?”

Tears began to spring along your waterline from how hard he was gripping your face. Maybe you were biting off more than you could chew. “You’re hurting me, Joel.” You gritted out as a few tears leaked down your cheekbones.

“Good.” “Now I have your full attention. That’s very good, Angel. Look at you bein’ a good girl with your listenin’ ears. Now, if I do remember from our prior interaction, you assumed that my dick was small. Ain’t that right?”

You nodded meekly.

“Ah ah ah. Words, Angel. Use ‘em. I ain’t into silence. You speak when spoken to. Y’got that?” He squeezed your cheeks tightly as tears continued to roll down them.

“Yes sir.” You squeaked out.

He loosened his grip on your face, which in turn allowed you to relax your jaw. “Where were we? Ah! Right. The part where you assumed that my cock was small. Right before you called me some delicate fuckin’ china. So, how about you see for yourself.” He gestured to the growing tent in his jeans. “Don’t be shy now. Go’on and see if the women in the QZ are jus’ sayin’ horse shit about my size.”

You swallowed the lump growing in your throat as you felt his eyes burning holes in your skull from how harshly he was staring you down. Your hands quivered under his gaze as you reached for his belt to undo it.

“Don’t act so nervous, Angel. It’s just a cock. It ain’t gonna bite ya.” He teased with a chuckle. You could visibly see his hardened cock twitch under the confines.

You undid his belt before looping your fingers through the faded fabric and tugged them down swiftly over his ass and thighs.

You saw the sheer size and the girth of him through the tight fabric of his briefs as his own hand reached down to palm himself through the fabric.

“Holy shit.” You whispered in awe as your jaw fell open.

How in the hell is that supposed to fit?

He seemed to be reading your mind as his hand that was palming himself reached for your own and placed it under his. “We’ll make it fit, baby. Don’tcha worry your pretty little head about that. Although, maybe now is a good time to take back that little comment you made, hmm?”

Your own fingers dragged across the stiff outline of his cock as your eyes flitted upwards to meet his gaze. “I take it back.”

“Take back what?” He pressed.

“Sayin’ that you probably have a small dick.” You spoke quietly through the thick rising tension between you.

“Atta girl. See, that wasn’t so hard, huh? Still need’ya to take it out for me, Angel. Gettin’ awfully painful for me.” He hissed between his teeth when your hands finally grasped the waistband of his briefs and tugged them down. His cock sprang up freely against his taut stomach. The tip was gleaming with a bead of precum that was weeping from the slit.

“Well, it ain’t gonna suck itself, girlie. Get to it” he gruffly requested as he placed one hand along the back of your head and nudged you forward towards his cock.

For a brief moment you thought about just biting his dick off right then and there. Sorry, the voices. You just didn’t want to seem too excited. The FEDRA officer you recently fucked had nothing on Joel Miller’s cock. That was for damn sure.

Your glassy eyes stayed locked on his darkened ones as you stuck your tongue out and gave the tip of his cock a light kitten lick. He must have not been too pleased with it because his grip around your head tightened as he yanked your head upwards.

“Suck now, Or you ain’t gettin’ shit in return. We clear?” He asked you sternly with his eyes narrowed into slits.

“Crystal.” You mumbled in response before wrapping your palm around the base of his length and gave it a few slow tugs. When you finally obeyed, and he felt the wet heat of your mouth engulfing his weeping tip, his shoulders slumped as he inhaled a shaky breath.

“Shit—yeah. There ya go. See, that ain’t so hard? Fuck—that’s good, Angel.” He praised you from above as his hand loosened its grip around your head for a millisecond.

You relaxed your jaw on instinct to slowly inch your mouth further around him. The girth of his cock was stretching your mouth further than it had ever been stretched. Drool mixed with precum dribbled down your chin as fresh tears sprung to your eyes. You truly weren’t sure how you were supposed to fit all of him.

Joel didn’t want to admit it outloud, but seeing you sitting so pretty on your knees, mouth stuffed with his cock, and little tears leaking from your watery eyes, he never thought you looked so beautiful.

“That’s it, Angel. Relax a little more. Convince me that you’re actually enjoyin’ this. C’mon. Ain’t you a bit of an actress after all?” He chuckled.

Your hands found purchase around his bare muscular thighs as you tried to push yourself back for a gulping of air. Joel didn’t allow you the pleasure however as his hand was still firmly holding your head in place. You let out a sound that was nothing short of frustration before the tip of his cock pressed against the back of your throat, igniting your gag reflex to kick in.

Joel loved it.

His eyes rolled back when your throat clenched around him like a fist. His nails scraped lightly at your scalp as he threw his head back. He had received many blowjobs in his lifetime, but most women couldn’t take him all in. But once again, you proved Joel Miller wrong.

Feeling rather pleased with your work on him, Joel finally allowed you that breath of air that you so desperately needed as he removed his hand from your head. You immediately pushed yourself back off his thighs as his cock slipped out of your mouth with a light pop. You coughed a few times, gasping as a string of saliva hung from the tip of his cock all the way to your lips.

Before you could fully recover, his warm calloused palms were wrapped around your forearms and yanking you up from the faded tile floor hastily. He proceeded to wipe away your tears as his cock, still very much hard, twitched between you.

“Remember, Angel. You’re the one that showed up to my apartment like the cheap, bratty, beggin’ whore that you are. You asked for this. Y’wanna leave? Doors right there. I won’t stop you.” His thumb brushed the spot just below your eye.

You shook your head immediately. If it wasn’t for the constant tingle that simmered between your thighs, you probably would have hightailed out of there.

His smirk was nothing short of proud as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Very good, Angel. Very good. I’m testin’ you, and you’re passing with flying colors. Got your listenin’ ears on and everythin.’ Y’know what happens when you’re a good girl? Y’get rewarded. And I’m feelin’ mighty generous..so in the next five seconds you’re gonna take your pretty ass on over to the couch, you’re gonna strip down and bend over the side of it. Y’got that?”

You nodded as your hands already dropped to the hem of your shirt, fingers playing with the frayed ends. “Yes, sir.”

He patted your cheek affectionately before he stalked off to his room. You could hear him counting down from five as you scrambled to discard your shirt and tug your jeans down over your thighs. Your pulse quickened as you made your way over to the couch and bent over the side of it. You shouldn’t have felt this excited, but Joel Miller truly did bring the inner whore in you out to play.

His footsteps were heavy and audible just as you were reaching for the waistband of your faded panties to drag them down your legs.

“Ah. I’m sorry, Angel. Was five seconds not enough for ya?” He tuts softly under his breath. His footsteps hold a slight swagger as you feel the heat of his body simmering on your bare skin. His hand rests along the back of your thighs before slowly dragging upwards. He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh as your covered pussy clenches around air. “Didn’t give ya enough time to take these off, hmm?” He hummed under his breath as he dragged his thumb across your covered core, applying the tiniest of pressure.

“Joel,” you whimper with a sharp breath when you the pad of his thumb pressing against you. “I’m—sorry, sir.”

“Sorry?” He sounds slightly confused at your apology. You can’t see his face, but you imagine his head cocking to the side as he gazes down at you like a starved man salivating at the wet patch that pools in the fabric of your thin panties. “Honey, this ain’t nothin’ you gotta be sorry for.” He reassures you as his head dips down.

You can feel his wiry, coarse beard scraping gently at the base of your spine. His lips on your searing skin are wet, hot, and inviting as he begins to leave open mouth kisses all the way up to the spot between your shoulder blades. You feel both of his massive hands prying your cheeks apart, followed by the slick length of his cock sliding through your covered folds.

He grunts directly into your ear as the sheer mass of his body conceals you like a cloak. He’s so fucking big. It's suffocating, almost. Being enveloped by a man such as him. Your thighs rubbed together to relieve the ache between them.

Can he just get on with it already?

“Now, Angel. I’m gonna fuck this pretty little cunt of yours till your legs shake. Till that stupid FEDRA officers come doesn’t even fuckin’ exist anymore. You’re gonna scream my name, and you’re gonna let every single one of my goddamn neighbors in this shit hole apartment know jus’ who’s fuckin’ you so well. Hell, maybe even that FEDRA fuck will be able to hear you from outside. You’re gonna scream and cum, like the dirty, obedient, little cockslut that you are.” He growled before bringing his palm down against your ass with a harsh, stinging slap that sent your back arching.

“And maybe, if you do as your told, and you milk my cock fuckin’ dry, I’ll treat you like a princess. Food. Shelter. A cock to keep you warm at night? Soft touches. Kisses. The comfort that I know you so desperately fuckin’ seek. All of that, and more can be yours, Angel. You jus’ have to be good and do as your told.” His teeth scraped the outer shell of your ear before he bit down on the thin skin harshly between his teeth. His thumbs looped between the waistband of your panties before he yanked them down to your ankles swiftly.

“Joel, that’s not what—” you tried to speak and get a few words in. But this was his show, not yours.

“That’s not what, Angel? That’s not what you want? Oh, please. Let’s not start this off by lyin’ to me. You showed up here tonight because you were seekin’ somethin’ I offered. I know how that brain of yours works, little girl. Y’sure can run that mouth of yours, but you and I both know that you’re fuckin’ helpless. Those men in the alley would have killed you if it weren’t for me. They would have torn you to shreds had I not stepped in. Say it, Angel. Say that I saved you.” He snarled unkindly as his freehand slipped around to your mouth. He pressed a kiss to your throat, right where he could feel your pulse quicken. “Spit.” He commanded you.

You shamelessly spit of glob of saliva right into the palm of his hand just like you were told.

His annoyance was prevalent when you didn't bother to answer his demand for you to admit that he saved you. Your blood was pumping in your veins and your heart was beating because of him.

You felt an unpleasant chill roll down every vertebrae in your spine when he didn’t praise you for spitting into his hand like a good girl. You tried to turn your head to the side to see what exactly it was that he was doing, but he didn’t give you that satisfaction. Oh, no. He wasn’t going to give that to you.

You went to open your mouth, to tell him just what he wanted to hear, but your words were muffled as he shoved your face right into the couch cushion. His hand encaged your head while the other slipped back between your nearly connected bodies. He used your saliva as lubricant as he fisted the heavy weight of his cock a few times.

Your body lurched forward when you felt the head of his cock pressing into your glistening hole. He was barely notched inside your cunt, and you were already trying to crawl away. He was too much.

He tuts with a disappointed sigh, shaking his head tightly. “Y’wanted this, remember?” He almost sounds pitiful. Almost. “Can’t exactly fuck this tight little hole if you ain’t holdin’ still, Angel.”

“Joel—it’s too. Fuck. It’s too much.” You whine pathetically as your nails dig into the worn fabric on the couch cushions.

“Too much for a fuckin’ cockslut like you? Shut the fuck up and take it.” He hissed between his teeth. “Just fuckin’ relax and quit bein’ so stiff. I’m tryin’ to make this an enjoyable experience for the both of us!” He snapped cruelly. He dropped his hand from around your head and opted to wrap his arm around your middle, yanking you back against his hips as he sank further into your heat.

“Actin’ like your pussy doesn’t want this, baby? She’s huggin’ me so fuckin’ tight already. She’s pullin’ me right on in. S’like she’s takin’ my cock fuckin’ home.” He groaned deeply as he bottomed out. Filling you to the fucking brim. His cock felt like it was splitting you in two, right down the middle. His chest was firmly pressed down against your back as he rolled his hips forward.

A strangled moan crawled up your throat as you found yourself fucking yourself around his cock. Showing him that you could in fact play the role. Be the actress. Milk him dry just as he requested.

“Joeeel.” You moaned wantonly with your cheek pressed firmly against the scratchy fabric of the cushions. Your tears had long since dried in a salty cavern along your cheekbones.

“That’s it, Angel. That’s a good fuckin’ girl. See, I told you I can fuckin’ treat you well.” He grunted praisingly as his lips found their way to your neck once more. He sucked, licked, kissed on your sweat-slicked skin as he pulled his hips back before jutting them forward once more. He set a deliciously deep and urgent pace as he fucked into you. “Don’t think for a second that I’m—-fuckin’ lettin’ you off the hook so easily, Angel. Y’still gotta tell me who saved you. Who saved your fuckin’ life!” His teeth grazed the thin, breakable skin along the column of your throat. He bit down harshly, drawing blood to the surface as he sucked on the entry wound that he created. A marking of dominance. Possession. The carnal need to own you.

The coil in your stomach tightened and pulled as your orgasm quickly approached. You liked it. You liked being fucked like the cockslut that you truly were. With each harsh thrust of his hips, the weight of his balls slapping against your skin, you cried out his name in a cock-drunk stupor.

Joel. Joel. Joel.

“Not the FEDRA officer fuck, right? Did he fuckin’ save your skin?! Huh?! No, Angel. He didn’t. Bet he woulda taken the opportunity to kill you, Angel. I bet they all fuckin’ would! Every last goddamn rotten, son-of-a-bitch sick fuck left in this shithole would jump at the opportunity to spill your blood on the streets below, Angel. Not me! Not Joel. Why do you think that, Angel? Why do you think I’d never let anyone hurt you?”

Your pussy clenched down around his cock as your strangled cries fell freely through your parted lips. Your back arched to meet his relentless thrusts.

“Because—because you own me, Joel!”

Maybe it was the endorphins coursing through your veins. Maybe it was the way Joel Miller’s cock continued to hit the spongy spot inside of you with every heavy thrust of his hips. Maybe it was the way he spoke to you. Or the way his body shielded yours with sheer strength. Maybe it was everything combined. In your cockdrunk haze, you wanted to be owned by this man.

“Yes, Angel. That’s right. I do fuckin’ own you. I own your body. This pussy. That smart mouth of yours. I own the come that drips between your thighs. I own your screams. I own your thoughts. Your feelings. Your likes and dislikes. I own every fuckin’ part of your being.” He growled possessively as his thighs and yours began to quiver. As his cock began to twitch, and your tight cunt began to pulse like a heartbeat.

“You own me, and I own you.”

He didn’t disagree. He didn’t argue as the cries of his name falling from your tongue mixed with his own heavy grunts.

Angel. Angel. Angel.

As he shot hot ropes of his seed into your fucked out hole, you milked him of every last drop, and as he slipped out, you could feel a mixture of his and your come dripping down between your thighs.

You could feel his heartbeat against your back as his breaths came out as hot puffs across your clammy skin. His cock softened against his thigh. Glistening in yours and his come. Your eyes fluttered shut as the post orgasm haze swept over you.

You felt two strong arms gently pulling you up as your head fell back against his strong shoulder. He held you securely against him. All you could hear was his heart beat and your intermingle breaths.

“Did you really go and fuck that FEDRA officer before you showed up here, Angel?” He asked softly while the pads of his thumbs rubbed soothing circles against your hips.

“No.” You admitted. “I didn’t.”

banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤍

[mmogurl]

Last to Fall Chapter 3 - Dark On Me

18+ | 2.9k | Aegon II Targaryen X Female Dragonseed Reader | Unresponsive Aegon | half sister reader - you're a princess now! Fastest elevation in class ever! wholesome, fluff, severe injury and burns, mentions of death and other bad things, but still... this whole thing is actually kind of sweet compared to what I usually write.

Ok! This chapter was actually very emotional for me to write. I think sometimes I put my mind too closely into that of my characters, because as I was imagining several parts of this chapter from the reader's perspective, I found myself tearing up. Hopefully that emotion comes across in the work and makes it better.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 On AO3

I've also decided that I'm going to try my best to fit every chapter to a Starset song because the whole Series is based off the title of one (Last to Fall). I'm enjoying the challenge of finding one that suits each theme/ story! They're not all going to be perfectly aligned, but I'll try my best. This one is Starset - Dark on Me I especially like the line - 'But I found in you what was lost in me.. In a world so cold and empty.' Thanks to @zaldritzosrose for headers and I actually made all the gifs myself again! Tags: @coffeebooksrain18, @lexi-anastasia-astra-luna, @meggletoomanyfandoms, @theanbitchless (If you wanna be removed or added from/to the taglist, just let me know)

You hear the horns sound and watch from the balustrade as the procession makes its way through the city up towards the Red Keep. The soldiers return from battle victorious, carting the head of Meleys upon a wagon, but you haven’t seen Sunfyre return yet and nobody will tell you what has become of the king. You’ve heard his mother, Queen Dowager Alicent, mention Aegon in hushed whispers with some council members, but she has not deemed you worthy to share whatever information she has.

Even with the king’s decree elevating your status to that of princess, none will tell you what has happened. You must assume the worst. As the caravan draws closer to the castle, you can see another cart led by two horses. It carries what appears to be a casket covered by many blankets and your heart sinks at the thought of your most dire fears come true.

He cannot be dead. No, no. You won’t accept it.

You rush down to the courtyard, to await the arrival of your king, praying to any gods that might listen that he is still alive. A large contingent of the Kingsguard greet you outside and you feel even more strongly now that your assumption must be true. That Aegon is indeed in that wooden tomb, very likely deceased, but your heart still holds out hope that you’re wrong. The massive gates open to the inner wall of the keep and you watch with despair as the wagon is pulled forward.

As the wooden cart stops, your eyes dart to and fro as men step up to bear the casket forth. You catch the gaze of one of the white cloaks standing near you, and plead with him for answers. “Is he dead?” you whisper, desperate to know the fate of the man who had asked you to be his.

He offers a knowing expression of remorse, but nothing more. You are forced to follow behind as six men carry the king inside, be he dead or alive. You can’t help but wonder where everyone is. Where is his mother? His brother? Where is the small council? Is nobody here to witness the return of the king? You can’t help but to cry quietly as you follow the men of the City Watch and Kingsguard combined with your hung head low.

They carry the massive wooden crate all through the castle, heading upstairs until they enter Maegor’s Holdfast. You pass by Queen Helaena who is standing outside of her chambers, observing the procession with curiosity. You can’t help but wonder if they had kept the truth from her as well. When your eyes lock onto each others, her features twist with curiosity at the sight of your tears, but there is no malice present.

Helaena has never been rude or cruel to you, despite her knowledge of your role in Aegon’s life. She almost seemed grateful that you were able to offer him the companionship that she could not. The queen did not follow further, opting to stay back, likely having a sense that even more tragedy was on the horizon. You didn’t blame her for that, but it didn’t change that you must know. You had to see with your own eyes what had become of your love, Aegon.

As the doors to the king’s chambers opened, your gaze fell upon Alicent standing to the side by the windows. Of course she had known, but chose to leave you in the dark, suffering alone with your doubts and fears. When she saw you, she averted her eyes for a moment, her facade of calm cracking slightly before she steeled herself and offered you a nod. You returned the gesture with a trembling lower lip stepping aside to watch what came next.

They removed the lid of the casket and a whimper escaped your lips as one soldier took Aegon’s sword, Blackfyre, from within and placed it to the side with reverence. The soldiers cleared the room as men dressed in black heaved a dark canvas bag from within the wooden coffer. The sight of this actually made you fall to your knees with grief, finally seeing proof that Aegon was not of this world anymore.

A lamenting wail throbbed through your chest as they placed Aegon’s body on the bed. Your hand clutched the footboard as you fell down on one knee, barely keeping yourself upright. Alicent came to stand beside you, and you barely noticed the presence of the maesters entering through your sobbing.

“Is he alive?” the Queen Dowager asked with a mixture of shock and trepidation. The words stopped your weeping instantly as you pulled yourself up and leaned over the bedframe.

“His Grace, remains with us, for the moment,” Grand Maester Orwyle answered somberly.

You let out whining gasp that makes you sound like a pathetic animal, but you can’t help it. “He was alive? And you carted him through the streets as though he were a corpse!?” You cannot help but cry out as you stare accusingly at Alicent, appalled by the treatment he’d received.

“I didn’t have much say in it,” the Queen Dowager replies looking bewildered as the sight before her seemed to sink in. “They told me.. They thought it would be best that nobody saw the injuries he sustained.”

You stop your outrage, realizing that she likely didn’t know the extent of the damage either. Still, you wish she would have confided in you what little she had known so that you might have better prepared for this.

Orwyle takes an instrument from his medical kit and begins to remove pieces of Aegon’s armor. The more you look, the more you begin to understand what has happened to him. The entire left side of his body, from his head all the way down to his leg, has been scorched by dragonflame. His arm appears to have been dealt the brunt of the damage, where the Valyrian steel has melted into his limb, leaving it a gored tangle of flesh and metal.

A cry threatens to escape your lips once more, but you stifle it. There will be time for sobbing later, but for now you wish to keep yourself preoccupied. “I wish to help,” you say desperately, but everyone is so busy at work that nobody even responds. “Please,” you ask again, your brows furrowed with anguish. “I need to help.”

Alicent offers a glance at one of the maesters assisting Orwyle and from there, a chain reaction of assent occurs, until finally a young man tugs your arm and pulls you to the side.

“You can aid me in making the poultices,” he says softly. You cannot possibly express how grateful you are for the opportunity to stay busy, while attempting to save your king. You offer the Queen Dowager an appreciative look from across the room and return to learning how to prepare the treatment for Aegon.

It is likely a good thing that you are not watching as they remove the king’s armor, for you can hear his ragged breaths and the gasp that startles from Alicent’s mouth in response to it.

“Is my son going to die?” she asks sounding petrified. You do not wish to hear it, but you can’t tune it out either.

“I’m afraid I cannot say,” Orwyle responds quietly, turning his head to regard the Queen Dowager for a moment. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Your Grace, these next hours are most critical.”

“Of course,” Alicent replies, taking a step back so that she’s no longer interfering with the healers work.

The young maester in training hands you a plate filled with individual leaves of steamed cabbage and notions for you to take it to the bed. “Take these,” he says quietly as a mouse. You don’t hesitate to obey, not wanting to hinder Aegon’s chances for survival.

You hold the tray out, leaning over Aegon’s bed, to an aged maester with a gray beard dressed all in dingy whites. He begins to take one piece at a time, placing the wraps at the bottom of Aegon’s broken leg and working his way up. Your hands shake slightly, but you do your best to stall your trembling so that you might be of use. Stealing a glance down the length of the bed, you see Orwyle sponging charred bits away from Aegon’s once pristine face.

Your heart aches, but you push it deep down. There will be time to grieve later if he dies, but you refuse to give into despair again before that actually happens.

“Someone will have to rule in his stead,” the cold and familiar voice cuts through your thoughts.

You turn to your right and see Aemond standing there, dead center at the foot of Aegon’s bed. He had always seemed dangerous to you, but has never looked this unhinged before. You can’t help but wonder what might have happened at the battle of Rook’s Rest to change his demeanor so drastically. The way he looks at Aegon, it reminds you of a cat playing with a mouse, holding it by the tail and swatting at it.

You can’t help but wonder how he stands there without an ounce of concern for his brother. As your discomfort grows, you decide that you will have to keep an eye on the prince from now on. You swear solemnly to yourself, glaring at Aemond while you do so, that you will keep watch on the king as though your life depended on it. Just in case.

————

It has been a couple of days now and while Aegon has not yet woken, he has not yet passed into the arms of the Stranger either. He’s been cleaned up considerably, and his wounds all tended to. The only remnants of the horror you witnessed when he first arrived in the Red Keep being the charcoal still tinting his cheek and of course all of the burns that lace his left side. His broken leg is propped up to keep the blood from swelling, but otherwise Aegon looks peaceful in his slumber, despite the audible struggle he has breathing. You lay next to Aegon on the bed, unwilling to leave his side for any reason lest he might wake alone without a caring face to welcome him back. Nestled carefully against the side of him that is not horribly burnt, it almost feels comforting to feel his chest rise and fall beside you with a fire crackling in the hearth.

At first, you worried that Aegon might pass at any given moment, but once he was out of imminent danger, it became a waiting game. Inevitably boredom overcame you as the king continued to sleep. You took to cleaning to pass the time. First, washing and scrubbing every nook and cranny of the floor in his chambers despite the objection of everyone that came across your endeavoring to stay sane. You then moved onto dusting and cleaning out the tapestries. It was one of the few times you’d left the king’s chambers since he returned, but you wanted to take everything outside to be aired out, lest there be a dust storm within.

A soft sigh pulls you from your memories and your eyes open to see Alicent sitting at the side of Aegon’s bed. Her hand is clinging to his as she leans slightly onto the bed. You can tell from her expression that this whole situation has been very taxing on her. Within such a short span of time, she’s almost lost her eldest son and king, and been passed over for the regency of the realms in his absence for Aemond. Given the predatory way the new Prince Regent had been staring at Aegon days prior, this is a decision you wholeheartedly disagree with.

As much as you hate to admit it, you’ve grown to appreciate Alicent’s company. At first she seemed annoyed by your presence, but you can only assume that in seeing your dedication to her son, she’s softened towards you. She’s even shared several kind words with you, which felt incredibly awkward, especially when she began referring to you as ‘The Princess,’ a title you are still not accustomed to hearing anyone speak, let alone her.

The Queen Dowager had never acknowledged the decree previously, but then none of the acceptance really matters without Aegon here to share it with. He’d talked of marrying you upon his return and now you wondered if that would ever happen. Your fingers caress softly along his arm, a motion that has become almost involuntarily by now as you huddle to him, hoping that your touch will bring him back.

Alicent stands suddenly, her eyes bleary as she places a hand on her son’s good cheek. She almost looks afraid to get too close, as though admitting the depth of her care for him might somehow make it hurt more to lose him. She nods a soft ‘good night’ to you and goes to leave the room. You watch for a moment as the maester opens the door for her in anticipation, and rest your head back down on the pillow.

And that’s when you hear it, so quiet and coarse that you might have missed it if you had not been right beside him. “Mummy,” he whispers without opening his eyes.

You dart up from the bed with haste, looking at him incredulously, as though he had just risen from the dead. “Queen Dowager!” you cry out, not wishing to disturb him, but needing to get her attention. “Maesters! He spoke!” You realize you are laughing with relief as you call out to the them, brushing the backs of your knuckles upon Aegon’s cheek gently as you coo to him. “She is coming, my love.”

As Alicent rushes back to her son’s bedside, you both share a look of hopeful promise. “What did he say?” she asks, her eyes searching over Aegon as though he might move, and than glancing back to you.

“He said ‘Mummy,’” you answer with a smile, happy to see the look of touched gratitude that appears on her face.

“Oh my sweet son…” she trails off, seemingly unable to put words to how she is feeling. She stands beside him, reaching out with a little more confidence this time. “Mummy’s here,” she offers quietly as the two maesters on duty gather behind her.

Aegon lets out a gravelly sound, his breath hitching as he fights for consciousness.

“We’ll let Grand Maester Orwyle know of this development,” one of the men in white offers. “But if he is soon to be speaking with us, it is good news indeed.”

The Queen Dowager is in high spirits when she is finally ready to leave for the night, so exhausted she can barely keep her eyes open. “Thank you,” she says, looking you in the eyes as she rises from her chair. “You didn’t have to call me back, but I’m glad that you did.”

“Who am I to deny him his mother if that’s who he’s ask for?” you say as though there was no other possible outcome in your mind.

She smiles at you with a warmth she’s never shown you before, nodding slightly. “Will you have them fetch me if he wakes again?” she asks with fondness in her voice.

“Of course,” you reply, settling back into the bed beside Aegon. You are surprised when she walks around to your side of the bed, and proceeds to mother you under the covers.

“If you’re going to spend your nights in here, than the least you can do is keep comfortable,” Alicent says with a hint of jest in her tone.

It is definitely a touch strange as she pulls the blanket up and around you, tucking it underneath you slightly. It’s almost suffocating, but in a nice way. “Good night,” you say, turning on your side towards Aegon. You’ve practically made a nook at his side from the amount of time you’ve spent there by now.

“Sleep well,” Alicent calls as she extinguishes the candles, leaving nothing but the hearth to light the immediate vicinity. She ushers the maesters out of the room, with an authoritative pitch. “Get some rest for the night, my son is in good hands as you can plainly see.”

As the doors close and you’re left in silence, you can’t help but consider how sometimes the worst things in life can really help to bring people together. You’ve also seen tragedy tear relationships apart, but when something beautiful can blossom from the ashes of destruction, it almost feels like everything is going to be alright again. Like Aegon is going to wake up and get out of his bed and move on with his life. And when he does, he’ll find himself rousing to a world in which his mother might feel a little more comfortable showing her thanks for his company.

You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply of his scent. Despite all of the medicinal herbs and the lingering remnants of carbon, you can still smell him. You press a tender kiss on his neck, right below his ear, humming softly as you taste him on your lips.

Whispering softly, you beseech him with kindness, “I love you, Aegon.” You run the tip of your nose against his jawline, savoring the feel of him. “I’ll wait for you… As long as it takes. Just come back to me.”

[the-illegal-wizard-council]

Welcome to the Illegal Wizard Council.

We are but a multi-bodied single-minded council entity out on a mission to bring crime to your everyday life. We are very good at our job.

We use a plural they/them as we have many bodies, and may be referred to as any variation of the illegal council.

Our agenda:

-We want to fully restore Wizard Taxes, so that you're able to commit Wizard Tax Evasion. We oppose the Wizard Councils who want to abolish Wizard Taxes, as that leaves less crime for us to do.

-We think that EVERY spell should be illegal. We also think that you should cast them anyway, cause fuck 'em.

-We also advocate for you to commit as many crimes as possible, so that the amount of crime in the world is maximalized. We strive to make breaking the law as efficient as possible.

-We support the @familiars-union, and want every familiar to unionize.

Tags we use:

#wizard crime tips - asks

#council members - anything involving our council members

#wizard duel - wizards beat each other's asses

#wizard feud - other wizards are wrong and we're very vocal about it

#wizard jury duty - decisions decisions

#wizard gay sex - self explanatory.

Members of the council:

@evil-lizard-wizard - Scitterius the Cold-Blooded - Lord of Lizardry, head of Alternative Spells of Harming

@yourlocalbreadenthusiast, she/they - Corvius The Plagued - head of Necromancy, Experimental Spells, Potions And Such

@wizard-intern - Intern - Wizard Intern

@the-necrobotanist, he/they - Nero The Necrobotanist - Head Necrobotanist and Ketamine Bear Researcher

@vivisection-and-vampyrism, he/they/it - Hart the Vivisector

@irrumabo-ego-solem, he/him - Fless Roicaff of the Stocky Jasmine - Chief Privateer

@the-druid-wizard, they/it - Aster Sage the Druid Wizard - Head of Nature Crimes

@number-crimes-wizard, he/him - The Wizard Accountant

@renegade4-13, any - Ryder The Revengeful

@greyhound-with-a-mega-wizard-hat, she/her - Hatt the Hattest - Fastest Runner

@wozardpostingforwizards, he/it/they - Tavvy the Wozard

@not-wizard-council-aristocrat, he/they - not a wizard council aristocrat

(details to be changed upon requests)

If you wish to join the council, please refer here.

also we're gay. trans too.

[on-tracks-and-playlists]

Seventeen as F1 drivers I grew up watching….

S.coups. Max verstappen

There's just something about S.coups' and Max's aura that gives ✨MAJESTIC✨. I have NEVER seen a bigger pet dad than these two. You know how Max broke the wooden door of his storeroom because his cat was stuck inside and he couldn't open it from outside, I bet Seungcheol will pull some similar kind of shit if it's for Kumma. One thing that just makes sense about both of them- GIRL DAD- we already have a glimpse of girl-dad Max when he takes care of Penelope but I love how Caratland has collectively announced that Seungcheol IS A GIRL DAD. Both of them have their own principles but will not follow the instructions given if anything crosses them. They are both the type you would benefit from not having a beef with, 'cause they are difficult to handle when triggered. I don't know why the internet just keeps on bashing Seungcheol and Max as the scariest and most emotionally unavailable person, when they are the pookiest bears u will ever meet- like how Max reassured Lando that he is capable of bigger things everytime Lando doubts himself and how Seungcheol always guides his members through the tough times seventeen has had. They care and sympathise for those they cherish.

Jeonghan. Nico Rosberg

Britanny Spear. Goldilocks. Rapunzel… Whoever is known for their luscious golden locks… Add these two to the list. One tributing to seventeen other to formula one. The funny thing is, despite the fans absolutely adoring the look on Jeonghan, he doesn't like having long hair because of how high maintenance it is and it troubles while performing… just the same way Nico doesn't appreciate being called Britney because, well it's self-explanatory ig. Being the leader of the tiredz line I think Jeonghan always searches for the easiest and fastest way to get the job done… And once done he will not waste a second to go back home. This behavior of Jeonghan is giving the same energy as how Nico won his first (and only) drivers' championship, got his name written in the history of world champions, and retired...for the comfort of his family. Always stirring drama, we all know how Jeonghan is famous for creating chaos and drama within seventeen, and ever since Nico became an f1 reporter (or commentator idk the word for it) I think he's been doing the same, stirring drama.... interviewing Lewis in Spain the very circuit the famous brocedes crashed will forever be gold to me... him taking selfie in front of Lewis' garage to give him the "Rosberg curse"... Yeah I miss both my blonde icons 😭😭

Joshua Sebastian Vettel

40% Kind, 30% flirt, 80%patience, 50%Maniac... (they are both twice the man anyone can ever be) Joshua and Sebastian are both the definition of kids well raised… The gentlemen of the group always take care of others. Making sure everyone is comfortable and comforted, they will make sure the grid and members are well fed. The gentlemen who protects the ladies and ends up rizzing them. The gentlemen who acts innocent knowing very well they have the rizz to charm the person in front, and have succeeded in doing so. Istg both of them are such big flirts…. if they are not being straight while flirting they are being gay and flirting with men. Both of them give the energy of cool uncles you would love to spend your summer break with… but your parents are kinda scared to leave you with them; not because they don't trust Josh and Sebastian but because of all the shenanigans that will go down while you are together. Well most accurate of it all is the crazy chaotic side they share, and I know I don't need to explain this to yall… My baby boos no body hurt them istg I WILL throw hands…. They are both very dear to me. Everyone is a Seb Vettel fan, even if you think you are not, you are a Seb Vettel fan. and I think the same for our gentle sexy Josh, you just can't come close to disliking him let alone hate... and if you do, you should cease to exist.

Jun. Alex Albon

Georgie Pooh's best friend. They are both goofballs that everyone absolutely adores. You trouble them and their bf (George and Minghao) are ready to wrestle you down. Have the most innocent face and smile in the group, but don't be fooled by the looks they are both just hidden menaces in disguise sometimes. The most random person you would ever come to know... people might argue that Hoshi and Lando are much more random... and I agree, yes they are, but it's how we expect them to be random that makes it less random almost as if we are anticipating that from Lando and Hoshi but with Jun and Alex it nearly fun cause we DO NOT expect that. WE DO NOT expect a 26-year-old Jun to just randomly come over and start mimicking an old lady in the middle of someone else's conversation. WE DO NOT EXPECT 27-year-old Alex to (try to) make the hardest track and just end up drawing a snail on the paper AND name the track RAIL THE SNAIL. It's just this randomness that makes them funny for me. Physically I don't think either of them can hurt a fly, but mentally, oh boy they will leave a scar on you by their sarcastic choice of words. All in all, you just can't NOT LIKE either of them.

Hoshi. Lando Norris

Literal ChAOs of the pack. Hoshi comes with a 'HANDLE WITH CARE' label on himself, just like Lando. You never know when their hyperactive mode will turn on. They need a lot of love and care to function properly. GIVE! THEM! ATTENTION! IT DOESN'T MATTER IF U ARE OLDER THAN THEM OR NOT. As I mentioned above RANDOM AS HELL. If it feels right they will say and do THE MOST RANDOM stuff, completely out of context…(que to Lando randomly blurting ✨B U N D A✨ in that one interview). Do you remember that one interview where Hoshi says 'I buy all, I eat all and then I regret all' THAT IS LANDO. I feel like they are both the type to not listen to you while you are instructing them to not do something hazardous, and then blame you for not stopping or warning them after the deed's done. If F1 had its own BSS...lando would definately be a part of it. On the contrary to this, their professional selves are very competitive and intimidating. Both Lando and Hoshi are very result oriented and mostly tend to be a little tough on themselves, and resultingly also towards people around them.

Wonwoo. Oscar piastri

We have two calm cuties in the building here, both of them radiating cat energy. They will very diligently serve the polite cat face. Lowkey hilarious. Both of them have such a dry sense of humor it is exactly my type. They have a very high intellect and definitely a big thesaurus. Oscar is always out there helping Lando's dyslexic ass figure out words he cant pronounce or spell and then we have Kim Mingyu, mentioning in that going seventeen episode of insomnia, that Wonwoo uses smartass words. In my eyes, it's the introvert in them, that finds it difficult to be able to express themselves. But once with the correct person/ people, oh boy there's no stopping them. Wonwoo and Oscar both have a very mysterious vibe to them which is... well very attractive. AND I cant exaggerate enough how cute they both are.

Woozi. Lewis Hamilton

The GREATEST OF ALL TIMES. There's a reason why we call Woozi the god of music, and that's because of his unbeatable records and talents in his career, just like Sir Hamilton. They both started young and are here to stay long and honestly, they achieved the point at where they will stay forever in the names of K-pop and F1. They both have a very dedicated and fun approach towards their carrer. One thing I can not exaggerate enough is how both Woozi and Lewis laugh gives me comfort. It's just how freely they laugh out loud, full HAHAHA, is special to me. Both of them are very well secure in themselves and know the impact they have. I love my short kings.

The8. George Russell

As I said above… Alobono's bestie. Material gworl. THE MEME. Both of them are crazy. 🤩CRAZY🤪. Personally, they both seem to be the types to judge their peers, for quite a long time… And then join the shenanigans… Although they act questionable too they just brush it off (or at least try to) by being cool. They are ✨SASSY✨ and that's a F A C T. It's beautiful how they always keep their fans in mind and have the most adorable and iconic moments with them. Like George's interaction with the little Singapore fan wearing the George T-pose shirt and this interaction in Singapore again and we can not forget that fan call with Myungho where the carat showed him a gaint frog and he just was surprised, shocked and trying not to laugh. Both of them have a beautiful taste in fashion. Old Money. Georg as your Old Money CEO vibes and the8 as your Old Money Mafia vibe(your view might be different idk). Their face economy is high on the scale. Literal definition of angel face demonic acts. George is our "chiseled angel" and Myungho is our "Chinese prince".

Mingyu. Oliver Bearman

Big baby trapped in an even bigger body. We all know that Mingyu is famous for being a muscular beanpole, but Ollie is also a handsome lampost, like 185 cm for the driver, no jokes. If golden retriever was a person it would be them, both of them hold their hearts on the sleeves. Very, and I say, very optimistic with their surroundings. They have a very play full personality, which I am hoping to see more from Oliver in Haas. Collecting fans left and right, everywhere they go. Mingyu absolutely basks in the fame and love his fans shower and I can see Oliver absorbing the adoration he receives, not just from his grid parents but from the whole F1 community. They are beautifully loved and it just shows in how well they treat their fans and people around them. I love the family dynamics in the Kim family and the Bearman family. There is love, comfort, mischief and a lot of support for their son's career. Highlight of it all would be Ollie's dad worried over his 18-year-old son's debut f1 race. They have both the best performance duality, one second u will see Mingoo and Ollie, and the moment you blink, boom, Kim Mingyu slaying the stage and Oliver Bearman showing no mercy in the race.

Dk. Daniel Riccardo

Big eyes, big nose, big smile, big personality. Danny will deffo be pt. 2 of BSS. These two are everybody's fantasy man. Honestly (pls don't come at me for saying this) I am neither a DK bias nor is Danielle my fav driver, but, they just have the kind of personality that draws you in and makes you want to know more about them. And then you fall in love with them and there's no undo for both of them once you fall. Always loud. Fucking loud. Everything they do is LOUD. But they are never loud alone, they always have a companion in their shenanigans. The sunshine. The happy virus. The energy boost of the group. But they come with their own hardships which usually go unnoticed. Even with the insane vocals DK usually struggles while recording and starts questioning his choice of career (ngl I kinda find it funny sometimes, not like I am laughing tho, it must be difficult for them), and well Danny has had a fare share in difficult times with his career. It's crazy how a lot of people just forget that they are insanely handsome just because they are super goofy. I think it for the better to stay this way cause if the people were to find their beauty, it would be the end of the world.

Seungkwan. Carlos Sainz Jr

For sure BSS part 3 will be Carlos. Social butterfly, is literally besties with everyone, everywhere. What makes it better is that Seungkwan and Carlos both, just adapt to the people around them, never letting them feel alone and always having a welcoming smile… we can't forget how Papa Sainz adopts the drivers just like Seungkwan adopting younger idols. ends up resorting to violence if things don't go their way, i.e. Seungkwan's famous flying kick sent Hoshi's way and Carlos pushing Charles and Lando off the chair every time during the team challenges. You can catch them anywhere, one moment you will see Carlos racing and you open Twitter to find him giving the trophies to Moto GP winners with his father, the same as SeungKwan is on every show you can think of co-hosting, as a mentor or just for promotion. If elegance met chaos it would be Carlos and Seungkwan. they are both very well celebrated and idolised in their domain; both well celebrated in Spain and Jeju respectively.

Vernon. Fernando Alonso

What I think is fascinatingly alike in both of them is that neither act their age. They are mentally in their preeteen(probably younger for vernon, coz he a baby) and it is very visible in how seventeen treats and Pampers Vernon and Alonso's little banters on the team radio (which I absolutely love btw). Hopefully both of them remain youthful forever. No thoughts head empty just thinking about vernon in going seventeen episodes and aonso in post race interviews. How they keep their faces straight most of the time while doing the randomest thingsHalf of the time they are just wondering wtf is wrong with the team and the other time they are confused why they even get involved in the weird team antics, ALL THE WHILE FULLY BEING PRESENT IN THE TEAM DRAMA. DW they love their team, ig. Alonso's little dancey dance celebration for race wins when he was with Renault reminds me of Vernon's clap freestyle dance breaks during concerts, totally random but completely their style. Vernon did a lot of side quests before becoming seventeen just like alonso when he took a break from F1 by joining rally…. And let's not forget they will both be amazing Gen z social media influencers.

Dino. Franco Colapinto

When I see these two I see youth and talent… One is the future of K-pop and the other one, I can definitely see being the future of Formula One… it's been only a few races Franco has been on the grid and I can see him being very dedicated towards his team and his performance. The slightest mistake and he will be pushing himself through for not being better, unsatisfied with his output. Exactly how Dino pushes himself to the limits and beyond, he would do anything to keep his team in the best spirits. It breaks my heart to see them being upset OR unsatisfied with the performance when they couldn't have served better. Both my youngsters have a very sassy humor. Dino has opted to this as a coping mechanism towards his 12 hyungs, well franco I find really funny during post race interviews like this interview where he called the alpines 'FRENCHS' cause he was salty they stole his well deserved fasted lap. ✨PURE GOLD✨. I am always looking forward to them serving on stage and on track, they never disappoint fr.

SPECIAL MENTION (I was just lowkey conflicted while choosing the matches for members and I feel like I need to mention these two because they are equally accurate i feel) KIM MINGYU AS CHARLES LECLERC

THE person everyone wants...Golden Boy who is loved by everyone... literally everyone's fav, and also the person with the weirdest luck... a tad bit too optimistic with their surroundings I feel... debuted with insane talent but got famous for their insane visuals first, talent second. another hyperactive personality duo of svt and f1.

WOOZI AS YUKI TSUNODA

Pocket sized. Little fierce devil in the guise of a cute hamster. They are known for their sharp use of vocabulary ones during lyrics writing and others on the radio. there's this little mischievous kid in them that always stays well kept but manages to pop out eventually. has that one most famous ship (yukierre and soonhoon).

a/n: I swear to God it has been in my drafts for a painfully long time. I tried to keep it as close to their personalities as I could find. I hope you guys enjoyed it any asks or recommendations are open <(●'◡'●)

tag list(open) @ssentimentals @magical-oppas

[ssaeri]

for your eyes only

☆ tags: elliott x gn!reader, elliott and farmer are married, he writes love poems for his spouse and is told to monetize them, oh boy is he not happy about that ☆

You pat your pig's backside encouragingly and coo as it digs its snout into the ground, unearthing yet another truffle that you add to your basket. Can't believe you were worried about this one being the runt of its litter—it's quickly proving to be one of the fastest learners, taking to truffle hunting like a duck to water. It'll do just fine with the rest of the adult pigs.

Taking care of the farm by yourself has always been a gargantuan task, but as the years go by, everything grows bigger—the coops, the barns, the ponds, the crops, the expectations—and exhaustion wears you down to the bone. You sigh and push to your feet, ready to head into the nearest coop to collect more eggs. Collect animal products, drop them into churning machines, harvest and sell. It feels like the cycle never ends. Against your neck, the small mermaid's pendant slides on its chain, another reminder of your absent husband. An extra pair of helping hands made the daily work light; you wonder if it's selfish to ask him to stay home more often.

"I know, I know," you say to your angry chickens once you open the door. You miss your husband, but these girls like to remind you that they miss him more. "He'll be home soon. Bear with me, okay?"

After giving each of them pats on the head, a motion they accept with reluctance, you dig around the hay for eggs. The large chicken and dinosaur eggs are easy to spot, but for the delicate duck eggs, you prod every corner with your fingers until you come across something warm and smooth. You push away your hens as they peck at your hands. The ducks are fine with you. The chickens, however...how in the world did Elliott win them over?

Outside, your dog barks. A single warning to the intruder before the tone shifts into excitement. Someone familiar, then. Maybe Marnie is stopping by to give you some hay like she mentioned last night. With winter approaching, any addition to your reserves is appreciated, and you're already wiping your hands on your overalls to greet her.

"Hey, Marnie! I'm just in here—"

You stop in your tracks when the visitor raises his head, though he's not exactly a visitor. Elliott smiles as you draw close, ignoring the horde of chickens now lining the fence for his attention. Their wings flap, clucking loudly as they hit each other.

"Good morning, my love," he says over the noise, as if it really is the start to a normal day. His thumb reaches out to rub at a dirt smudge on your cheek. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Just some leftovers and coffee," you reply, dazed. Your husband tends to have that effect, and after two weeks apart, you feel it more than ever. You lean into his touch, comforting against your wind-blown skin. "I thought you were coming home tomorrow?"

"I decided to come back early. The office didn't need me today, anyway."

"You should've messaged me! I would've picked you up at the train station," you say. Behind him sits his traveling suitcase, the wheels speckled with mud from being dragged through the road. He steps in front of it. "Why don't you go get unpacked? I'll be done soon."

He leans his elbows onto the fence, tilting his head until his fiery hair spills over one shoulder. "You're rather quick to dismiss my presence. If I didn't know better, I'd say that you're unhappy to see me," he says, though his words hold no accusation. It's merely a way to boost his ego when you reassure him. After all, you practically radiate by his side. "Would you like me to help?"

You glance at the dress shoes, the slacks, the spotless cardigan that he's already shrugging off to reveal a clean pressed button-down. Not exactly farm-friendly attire. "No, I'll be alright by myself."

"I could go change really quickly," he offers in a suspicious rush.

You search his expression then, and underneath the joy of being back, there's...something. You squint, unable to make it out. Sure, he must've missed you, but this feels like it runs deeper than that. When you give him a nod, he hurries towards the house, your dog chasing and barking at his heels. True to his word, he's back in minutes.

The chickens are much more cooperative now, and you roll your eyes at how they parade around your husband. They even hop around the coop, showing him where they've hidden their eggs from your intrusive searching.

"Thank you, dearies," he says to the hens. You swear they swoon.

"A real heart breaker," you deadpan. "Have you told them you're married?"

He chuckles, taking your hand as you move into the barns next door. While you lay out new hay on the feeding bench, he unhooks the stools and milk pails and sets them on either side of the door. It's hard to believe that just a few months ago he barely knew how to approach your animals, let alone help you with the chores.

He whistles lowly, and the first cow trudges to his station, ready to be milked. You get settled at your own station. One of the newer goats skids to the front of the line, eager to be let outside. It's not quiet in the barn—it never is, not with twelve grown animals waiting for their turn—but when you call Elliott's name, he looks at you. His ponytail needs to be retied.

"So why'd you come home early?" The young adult goats don't have much milk, just enough for a small container. You pat its hind leg, and it runs into the crisp autumn air with an excited bleat.

"I missed the atmosphere of our farm. The fresh air of the valley is good for my creative soul, unlike the bustle of Zuzu City."

You only raise your eyebrows, and he sighs from your all-knowing gaze.

"You read me a little too well, my love."

"I sure hope so, after all this time together. Did something happen at the office?"

Since the release of his last collection of short stories, he's been invited to the city more often for author-related events. This latest stint, running a series of writing workshops in partnership with Zuzu University and the local community, was organized by his agent in hopes of bigger opportunities. Maybe even a guest lecturer contract, they've said on more than one occasion, though Elliott refuses to be apart from you for too long.

Elliott gives another sigh. "Something like that. I just...it was admittedly negligence on my part. I was in the middle of writing you another letter when someone required my presence down the hall. I thought that it'd be a quick matter, so I didn't clear my desk. But apparently one of the secretaries came looking for me while I was out."

"Did they read...?" You wrinkle your nose, knowing how private Elliott is about his unpolished work. He's even more private about what he writes for your eyes only. "I'm sure they were embarrassed."

"That's what bothers me the most! She had the audacity to bring it up in front of everyone when we had a meeting, even quoted a few lines—"

The cow groans as he moves particularly rough. He gives it an apologetic scratch under the chin.

"So for the past two days, everyone has been trying to talk me into releasing a collection of love poems, which I would have no issues with if it didn't stem from such a personal...I mean, the poems were addressed to my muse, and when I explained that it was you, they said that was even better. Something about how the romance will really sell." He frowns. "I like being able to support myself—contribute to our funds, you know—with my writing, but it's not...a commodity. I'm allowed to make art for the sake of making art."

His forehead is furrowed, and you would reach out to ease the frustration if your hands weren't busy.

"What's your plan now?"

He scoffs. "There's no plan regarding that. I completely refuse. It's quite insulting, in fact, the idea that I'd put my love on display for a paycheck."

It's relieving, you have to admit. Even after getting a taste of success, your husband remains the same person you said your vows to. The same romantic who holds you in such high esteem. There's so many emotions—namely affection—swirling in your chest, but you're not the writer so all you manage is a simple Okay.

"Okay," you say again for good measure, but he must understand you because his expression smooths. "So what do you want for lunch?"

[lechrts]

Stuck With You. ✷ Ollie Bearman

Pairing: Ollie Bearman x Reader

Summary: When doing laundry at University on a late Tuesday night turns into something completely unexpected.

Word Count: 2.7k+

Disclaimer/s: University!au , forced proximity, fluff! ^_^

Vera's Voice! read this prompt on a boy and blog from like ages ago and it altered my brain chemistry so i had to write one myself. :3 Smirk. hope u enjoy!!!!

Tonight, you just wanted some peace—your roommate was at her boyfriend's and you finally had the alone time to deal with the overflowing basket of clothes that had been sitting at the edge of your bed for too long.

Finals week was the worst thing imaginable. There was so much to do that it ate at the back of your mind. No matter where you looked, just exams after exams after projects after projects. Just no escape.

Yeah sure, maybe the holidays was something to look forward to, but there was still another week to get through after.

The laundry room was usually this quiet on a late Tuesday night, save for the hum of fluorescent lights overhead. You didn’t mind. In fact, you’d picked this late hour on purpose. The place was usually crowded earlier in the evening, full of students loudly catching up or overall just not one available machine in sight.

Balancing the basket against your hip, you nudged the laundry room door open and stepped inside. Rows of washers and dryers gleamed under the artificial light and not a single person was in sight. It was almost calming, in its own weird way.

You walked toward the machine where your last wash of clothes sat. Dropping your basket to the floor with a small sigh, you waited for the last few minutes to finish up, watching the little window as your clothes swirled harmoniously which was oddly therapeutic.

The sound of the door creaking open behind you pulled you from your thoughts. You glanced over your shoulder, half-expecting to see another late-night procrastinator like yourself.

And of course, a boy walked in, carrying his own basket of laundry.

He looked a little disheveled, as if he’d been buried in textbooks all day and had barely remembered to do his laundry at the last minute. His messy brunette hair stuck up in all directions, and there was a faint shadow of tiredness under his eyes.

He caught your glance, offering a small, polite smile as he walked past. “Hi,” He said, his voice low but friendly.

“Hi,” You replied, giving a little nod before retreating your gaze back to your laundry.

You didn’t think much of it at first—just two strangers in a shared space—but as you continued attempting to let your mind wander off, you became increasingly aware of him.

The way he moved, quietly but efficiently, as he loaded and unloaded his own washer a few machines over. The way his fingers fumbled with a stray sock that kept falling out of his basket.

You tried not to stare, but when you caught his gaze again by accident, he gave you another faint smile. This time, it lingered a little longer.

You felt a small warmth bloom in your chest, but you quickly shook it off.

It was just a smile...

Lock in. That was nothing.

The two of you were stood in silence, the only sounds coming from the soft clatter of clothes and the occasional beeping of buttons being pressed.

He finished loading his washing machine not long after and leaned back as well, standing a few feet away from you. The room wasn’t big, and the silence between you felt almost… companionable.

It wasn’t until your washer beeped that the quiet was broken. You moved to transfer your clothes to a dryer, and as if on cue..

So did he.

You both ended up standing in front of dryers a couple of machines apart, working side by side.

At one point, as you tossed in a handful of clothes, you glanced his way. He was doing the same, and when your eyes met, he smiled again—a little wider this time.

Now, with both of your dryers finally running, you both wandered toward the door, baskets now empty. You were so ready to head back to your dorm and get in bed to wait for the dryer to stop...

But, as he reached for the door handle first, giving it a firm push...

It didn’t budge.

Frowning, he tried again, this time pulling instead of pushing.

Nothing.

“Uhm… I think it’s locked?”

“Huh?” You stepped forward, your brow furrowing. “That can’t be right. It doesn’t lock from the inside.”

“Well, apparently it does..” He said, his voice almost playful, probably trying to lighten the mood of this worst case scenario as you rattled the handle again for good measure.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, already planning to call for help—only to see let out an unfortunate groan. “Well. My phone is dead.”

You winced. “I left mine in my dorm.”

You both stood there for a moment, staring at the uncooperative door as the realization sank in.

“So… we’re stuck?” You said finally.

The boy exhaled a soft laugh, brushing his hand through his messy hair. “Seems like it... but, could be worse,” He said, his tone casual.

“Yeah?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “How?”

He shrugged, leaning his hip against a counter and crossing his arms. “I mean, we’re not trapped in, like, a storage closet or something. At least we’ve got chairs.."

You couldn’t help but snort at that, shaking your head. “Yeah, you lost me." Your arms crossed as you leaned against the wall behind you, staring at the offending door.

"Definitely not how I saw my night going.”

“Me neither,” He sighed, running a hand over the back of his neck. “I was kind of hoping to get this done, crawl back to my dorm, and pretend the day didn’t happen.”

You smiled faintly at that. “Rough day?”

“You could say that.” He tilted his head slightly toward you. “What about you?”

"Finals have been ruthless." You said calmly with a shrug. "Was hoping to cram some psych notes into my head for my exam tomorrow.. or, today, I mean." You continued.. adjusting your sentence since it was already “tomorrow.”

“Psych major, I'm assuming?” He asked lightly, his lips twitching up at the corners.

A small laugh escaped your tired body. "Ding ding." You said with a nod. "And let me guess, Engineering?" Your eyebrow quirked after giving him a good glance up and down.

"What?! How can you tell?" Your educated guess shocked him, but you laughed again.

"Well.. considering it's on your sweatshirt..." A small grin continued to linger on your lips as he looked down, probably feeling a little stupid now.

He glanced at his sweatshirt, a faint blush creeping up his neck as he realized the giant block letters spelling out ENGINEERING DEPARTMENT. “Wow,” He muttered, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish grin. “So observant.”

“Thank you,” You said, biting back a laugh and matching his sarcastic tone. “I like to think it’s one of my best traits.”

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and a little self-deprecating. “And here I was thinking I had some kind of mysterious vibe going on.”

“Honestly, nothing about you is screaming mysterious to me,” You teased, crossing your arms. “You're wearing race car pajama pants.”

"Oh, so you're a hater?" He said in mock offense. "How dare you."

You rolled your eyes and laughed. “The biggest."

“This whole scenario was actually the highlight of my day until you made fun of my outfit,” He said, his tone light and teasing, though there was a sincerity in his eyes that made your chest flutter.

You rolled your eyes, leaning your head back with a contagious smile. “That’s kind of sad, honestly.”

He laughed, a low, easy sound that filled the quiet room. “When your day starts with an 8 a.m. lab and ends with getting locked in a laundry room, the bar for excitement is pretty low.”

"Fair point." You gave him that with a nod. "Still, I feel like you should set your standards a little higher."

He tilted his head, as if considering you carefully, his smirk softening into something gentler. "Maybe I would if the bar wasn’t already set with you."

Your stomach plummeted. You blinked at him, thrown off entirely, and all you managed was a weak, “What?”

His grin widened, like he was enjoying every second of this. “You heard me.”

You narrowed your eyes, trying to mask how flustered you felt. “Are you flirting with me right now?”

“Depends,” he replied, his voice smooth, gaze lingering on you in a way that made it hard to breathe. “Is it working?”

You scoffed, desperate to regain control of the conversation. “Maybe... and this works on all the girls, I’m assuming?”

He didn’t even blink, his expression shifting into something softer but no less confident. “I don’t know,” He said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “It’s my first time trying. What do you think?”

Your nervous walls were crumbling but you felt like you couldn’t fold just yet. “You are such a tease!”

The boy grinned at your flustered response, clearly enjoying himself. “Maybe,” he teased lightly, before his voice dropped just enough to make your stomach flip, “But I’m only a tease when the company is worth it.”

You opened your mouth to fire back, but no words came. You were done for—absolutely, embarrassingly done for.

“Is this your idea of passing the time?” You finally quipped, trying to sound unimpressed, though your voice wavered just enough to betray you. “Flirt with the first poor soul who happens to get locked in with you?”

He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth quirking up into an unmistakable smirk. “Only if she’s pretty.”

You froze. His words hung in the air for a beat too long, your mind scrambling to come up with something—anything—to say back. But you weren’t quick enough.

That'll do it.

“Ah.” He smiled, and there was something about the way he looked at you, like he was taking in every tiny detail—the curve of your blush-tinted cheeks, the way your eyes darted away, your nervous grip on your empty laundry basket. “Made you blush.”

“I—” You opened your mouth, then immediately closed it, flustered beyond saving. A laugh bubbled up from your chest instead, a mix of disbelief and exasperation. “You're crazy.. Are you usually this bold before even knowing someone's name..?"

“Right.. well, do I by any chance…” He paused for dramatic effect, his expression as cheesy as it was charming, “Get to know this pretty girl’s name?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and suddenly, the room felt warmer than it had five seconds ago. It was ridiculous how easily he had you cornered—like every playful remark of his chipped away at your resolve.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head with a helpless little laugh. “Wow. You’re a dork.”

“And yet,” He grinned, holding his gaze steady on yours, “You haven’t walked away yet.”

“Where am I supposed to go? We’re locked in,” You shot back, trying to sound exasperated, but your voice came out softer than you intended.

He chuckled under his breath, that same maddening confidence never faltering. “Fair point. But still… the name?”

You hesitated, biting your lip to stop the smile that threatened to break through again. Just say it, you’re embarrassing yourself at this point.

Finally, you sighed and muttered your name quietly through a small grin, hoping it didn’t sound too flustered.

His smile widened like he’d won some kind of victory. “There we go,” he said softly, like he was tucking the sound of your name into his memory. “And I'm Oliver." A pause.

"My friends call me Ollie, but, you can call me yours." His laugh was immediate, seeming like he couldn't keep a straight face saying that bit. It was clear sarcasm, but yet, it made you blush intensely. Your heart had skipped practically hundreds of beats.

Your jaw dropped, a laugh of shock escaped your mouth before the two of you bursted into a fit of giggles. "You did not just say that." Your voice squeaked, trying to calm down from the sudden serotonin boost.

“Not my proudest moment..” He giggled, his grin widening with that same impossible confidence. “But I’d think it landed pretty well.”

“You’re delusional." You shot back, but you couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped, no matter how hard you tried to sound annoyed.

Ollie leaned back slightly, his expression playful but observant. “Maybe. But I still got you to laugh, didn’t I?”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Only because it was that bad. Easily the worst line I’ve ever heard.”

He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like you’d mortally wounded him. “That’s harsh.”

“Just being real,” You corrected, biting back a smile as you watched him pretend to recover.

“Well, clearly I’m going to need to try harder,” He sighed, already looking far too pleased with himself. “If I can’t impress you with words, I’ll just have to take you out, unfortunately." Another grin reappeared on his lips.

Way too fucking smooth.

"Take me out?" You asked, trying to sound casual, but there was a flutter in your chest you couldn’t ignore. Your voice wavered slightly, betraying the excitement you were trying to hide. "And where do you plan on taking me, Oliver?"

His eyes glinted mischievously, and a playful warmth spread through the space between you. "How does coffee after finals sound?" He suggested, his voice smooth, almost like he was offering you a secret only the two of you shared. "I know a new place that opened down town."

You felt your heart skip a beat, your breath catching for a moment. Coffee after finals? You couldn’t help but grin, your nerves melting away as his suggestion settled in. Something to finally look forward to, thanks to him.

You tried to play it cool, but inside, you were already picturing the two of you laughing over steaming cups, the world outside fading to a quiet hum.

“That sounds…” You softly grinned, feeling like a schoolgirl caught up in something way more exciting than just coffee. “That sounds nice.” You smiled shyly, only for your moment of calm to be interrupted by a loud clunk of the door handle.

A voice from the hallway cut through the air. "Oh no, not again." The RA appeared, shaking his head with a grin as he unlocked the door.

"You two get stuck? Happens all the time, you know. These doors lock automatically after 2AM."

You both turned toward him, trying to suppress your sudden surprise, already knowing what was coming. The RA gave you both an amused look as he held the door open.

“Well, doesn't seem like you two had the worst time..” He chuckled. “Carry on. I’ll leave the door unlocked for you so you can grab your laundry.”

You shot Ollie an amused glance. With the door now unlocked, you quickly made your way toward the dryers, laughing quietly as you grabbed the last of your clothes. The quiet, mundane task felt oddly intimate, especially with him standing beside you, his eyes lingering on you in that way that made everything feel more significant.

“So, after finals, you and me?” Oliver said softly, almost as though he was testing the waters again.

You shot him a playful look, feeling that flutter again, but this time, you didn’t try to hide it. “Yeah, you’ve got a date.”

He grinned wider than ever. “I’ll make it worth your while, promise.”

"Did you need my number...?" You quirked a brow, nearly laughing as he almost forgot a crucial detail.

Ollie blinked, his grin faltering for just a moment before his eyes lit up with realization. “Right, that might help,” He said with a sheepish chuckle, pulling out his phone and holding it out to you. 'Wait.. it's dead." He suddenly remembered.

You rolled your eyes with a grin. "Come with me back to my dorm and I'll give you my number real quick." You offered with a kind expression.

A playful glint in his eyes was visible as he smirked. "Inviting me to your dorm already? Let me take you out on our date, at least!" He mocked as you rolled your eyes in disbelief, but your sweet smile gave away the fluster behind it all.

"Such a dork." You snickered, brushing past him as he was quick to follow behind anyways.

likes, comments, and rebogs are appreciated! ^_^ , i fear he was giving bold frat boy which wasn't my intention but WHOOPS!... it's okay i hope.

tags! @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @wdcbox

[the-kr8tor]

Idk why I hadn't thought of this before but uh, this my 2nd request:3

Bitter Orange for Hobie with💧who thinks he escaped alive with R (from wherever it's up to you but i can suggest like after getting some supplys or being stuck somewhere for a while because it was infested with zombies) and got back to their base safely but little did he know, they didn't tell him that they got bit ;3

I'd like to add to the request I just made (Bitter Orange Hobie w 💧) and uh, this can be optional ig? but can they be best friends who've been pinning over each other but now Hobie never got a chance to confess his feelings n stuff and maybe they do it in those last moments?

Thank you for requesting this heart wrenching fic lmaoo hope u like it!! ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader

Word count: 1k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Zombie apocalypse AU, Zombie AU, CW blood, CW injury, TW death. Angst.

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

Hobie comes back to you after three days, he's drenched in sweat and grime. But it's all worth it for the two bags full of supplies that you two need. They're at least a month worth of survival, a month without needing to go out and put yourselves in danger. He could've brought you with him if not for your raging fever and cough, he had to go alone. A part of him was glad that he went alone, he was stuck in a warehouse for an entire day while waiting for the hoard to pass by. You would've hated waiting in the dark and damp place especially with your sickness.

You said you were fine to be left behind, that it was just a simple cold that you can fight with the leftover meds. But when he opens the unlocked door that he specifically told you to barricade, the rotting smell of flesh and decay greets him instead of your smile. It tells him that shouldn't have left. It tells him that his greatest fear has come true.

The bags he painstakingly heaved from the city to the cabin in the woods where you two had been surviving in for months now drops like a death knell on the dilapidated floors. It was home for you and Hobie, he still remembers the day you found it. His heart hammered in his chest when he turned around only to find you gone. And then your scream turned him into the fastest man alive, only to find you jumping for joy in front of the old hunter’s cabin.

He knows exactly why he was so afraid that day, even though it was just a second of you not by his side— he has never been without you. Through the years, way before the world ended, you've been by his side. Always latching on to him, always smiling at him. Or was it the other way around? Was it him latching onto you like paint on a wall? Or was it him who always smiled at you? Nevertheless, he loves you, he loves you even when the world ended. He loves you enough to drag himself across town to come get you while the world around him was burning and crumbling.

But he shouldn't have left, he shouldn't have stayed a day more to find you that bottle of shampoo you have always been on the lookout for. It was a surprise, a happy one this time, none of the walking dead jumping at you from a corner. He would do anything to see you smile again, just like when you found the cabin. You've been trying hard to stay positive for him, but he knows, and you knew that it was all to reassure him. He takes care of you and you take care of him, he wouldn't like it any other way.

Grief already clings to him like a vine snaking along a tree. It grips him tighter with every step he takes. Hobie's hand shakes as he reaches towards your shared bedroom door. He hoped that the smell would be gone by then, but it only persisted as he got closer and closer to the last place he saw you.

He should've told you he loves you.

Your milky white eyes are the first things he sees. He grips the door for balance, chest heaving, heart plummeting to his stomach.

You growl at him, skin no longer bearing life, skin shrunken around your nail beds, claws reaching towards him in a rush.

Hobie freezes and awaits your teeth tearing into his flesh, he'd join you, would that be so bad?

Yet, death doesn't come for him. Chains rattle behind you as you growl and desperately try to tear him apart. Hobie, now realizing what you've done to yourself, cries at the sight of your ankles bound on the bed. Your deathbed. You died alone and sick, you died without him by your side, you died crying for him. But it still crossed in your hazy mind to tie yourself down so when he comes home he doesn't face the same fate you had.

His sobs echo among your inhuman groans, tears streaming down his cheeks as you relentlessly try to grab him even in your bound state. Hobie refuses to look at you any longer, refusing to remember you like this. His eyes flick down at your feet. There's medicine scattered along the floor and bedside table. And there's still water left in your glass. A bloody bandage is still tightly wrapped around your thigh. A testament that you fought to stay human until he gets home, that you tried to cure yourself even though you knew it would be futile.

“Why didn't you tell me?” He asks in a broken voice, a voice he doesn't recognize as his own. “I could've stayed for you.” He knows that you didn't stop him because you didn't want him to see you slowly ebb away into a husk. That your death will break him apart right in front of you while he refuses to let you go. That his sorrowful face would be the last thing you ever saw. “I could've been here for you.”

You spared the both of you pain and suffering.

Hobie doesn't know what to do now, you're dead and gone. And there's no one left.

“I should've—” he inhales, slipping down from the wall to the floor. “I love you. I hope you knew that.”

You continue to slash at the air, chains rattling, bed frame pulling you away from him. Hobie sees a resemblance of you behind your foggy eyes, he can't help but think if you're still in there, that you're still fighting inside. He thinks you knew he loved you, he thinks that you might've felt the same after all those years with him. But that's all from his mind, all he wants now is to hear your voice again.

He just stays there on the floor, grief sinking him further down, eating him alive with every guttural growl you yell.

He shouldn't have left.

[brucenorris007]

Sonic is not a hero.

This is not news, and it's something I've covered more than once, but it bears repeating: Sonic is not a hero.

He is Some Guy who does heroic things

He is freedom. He is free from constraint, definition, responsibility, and therefore, from limitations

He is freedom; therefore, he does not enforce freedom

He doesn't save princesses because he cares about monarchy or whatever other crap propaganda Eggman would try to sell

He helps and saves people because it's the Cool thing to do

He isn't the hero; he isn't the one who rebuilds and repairs

He's the existence that scares the shit out of G.U.N. because he's a bipedal natural disaster who moves according to his whims and what he decides is right in the moment

He is the Fastest Thing Alive; the Coolest Some Guy who ever lived

Sonic is the first rebel, the ultimate disruption, the unstoppable force that compels others into motion in his wake, all across His World

@generic-sonic-fan

[richea]

[Translation] Kratos of the Expiation: End of chapter 1

This update brings us to page 50/317. It's a long one, covering 22 pages and 3 chapter parts. If you're interested in Kratos backstory crumbs, this is definitely one you'll want to read. For part 6: Dubbed / Subbed

Chapter 1: Part 4 of 6

Having received the oracle, the Chosen returned to her home with Kratos in tail. For the journey ahead, they’d need to write up his contract as a mercenary, as well as decide who would be tagging along. A map detailing the surrounding area was spread atop the dining table. The Chosen―Colette Brunel, her father―Frank Brunel, her grandmother―Phaidra Brunel, the village mayor, and Kratos all sat around it.

The first trial the Chosen must undergo―receiving the oracle―went as well as expected. It was the first time Kratos had witnessed it himself, but it went exactly as it had been described to him. The angel bearing the oracle descends and bestows a Cruxis Crystal upon the Chosen. A Cruxis Crystal is the same thing as a hi-Exsphere. Wearing this, the Chosen is ready to undergo the process of becoming an angel. From there, the Tower of Salvation―the symbol of regeneration―appears, and the Chosen is dispatched towards her next location. This was how the trial of the oracle always went. Remiel had been the previous oracle-bearing angel as well, and he seemed competent at the job. It seems he’d been informed that Kratos would be tagging along, which is why he wasn’t surprised to see him. Kratos wondered why he was acting as if Colette was his daughter, but he soon learned why. Apparently a rumor had spread in Iselia that the Chosen’s real father was actually an angel, and Remiel used that to his advantage.

“I suppose the place to start would be Triet. This was where my sister first embarked during her journey,” Phaidra, the old woman, stated as she gave the map a sharp look.

Phaidra is the previous Chosen’s younger sister. The air of refinement Kratos sensed when he met her in front of the temple wasn’t unfounded. She was a lot like her sister, Aithra. Kratos had been in charge during Aithra’s journey too. She left home on her Journey of Regeneration, carrying the hopes and dreams of humanity on her back―and perished. That was 70 years ago.

The Chosen’s lineage all grow up hearing various secrets of World Regeneration. Those secrets are not shared with the outside world, but are instead passed from parent to child, and child to grandchild. Many of those secrets involve the mortality of the Chosen, and due to this, those in the family tend to be clad in a different air than the rest of the world.

“Indeed. Triet is a city in the desert. We’ll need to prepare carefully in order to reach it.”

Kratos pointed out the route from Iselia to Triet on the map.

“This route is the best, as it gets us there the fastest while also avoiding as much trouble as possible. If you took the more direct path, you’d run into the sandworm’s nest.”

“You certainly know your stuff,” Frank said as he looked at Kratos with a hint of praise.

“I’m a mercenary. I need to know these things to get by.”

Kratos darted his eyes away from Frank and folded his arms. He stroked the muscle of his arm with his fingertip, and discovered that he was more tense than he realized. Explaining the route from Iselia to Triet had dredged up memories of that abhorrent journey. Even though he was an angel who wasn’t able to feel physical fatigue, the strain on him mentally made him feel weary. He felt an intense exhaustion wash over him, and before he knew it was forcing himself to blink back tears.

He knew the route between Triet and Iselia so well it hurt. That was the path he had taken when going to Iselia with his family of three; the village with a non-aggression treaty and ties to the human ranch.

“We’ll be leaving tomorrow, right?” Colette asked. Her hi-Exsphere―the Cruxis Crystal―glistened on her chest.

“Yes. It’d be best to leave as soon as possible. I’d like to set out before sunrise.”

“You’ll be leaving that early?”

Frank looked at Colette, worried. He was sending his daughter on a journey to her death, after all. He likely wanted to drag out their parting for as long as possible. But with the Renegades on the move, they didn’t have that luxury. Cruxis isn’t aware of this, but the one leading the Renegades is Yuan Ka-Fai, one of Cruxis’ top men. Kratos kept that a secret from everyone. It’s not like Yggdrasill had any interest in the Renegades, anyway.

Yuan probably wants to kill Colette as soon as possible. The Renegades operate to stop Martel’s revival, making Colette a big threat to them since she’s such a close match. Luckily, Yuan is currently overseeing Tethe’alla’s preparations for the World Regeneration, so he shouldn’t be able to do anything until he’s done with his briefing session with Pronyma, the leader of the Desian’s Five Grand Cardinals. Kratos wanted to pass through Triet before this happened. According to his research, the Renegade’s base was somewhere in Triet’s desert. Before Yuan returned to his post as one of the Renegades, Kratos wanted to cross through the desert.

The room had a heavy, gloomy atmosphere. As Kratos stood up to excuse himself as the only non-family member, the doorbell rang.

“Oh, that must be Raine.”

Phaidra got up to open the front door, and on the other side stood a beautiful silver-haired woman.

“I’m terribly sorry for running late.”

“We’ve been waiting for you. Come on in.”

Phaidra beckoned her inside, and Raine sat in a chair at the end of the table. Her eyes scanned the faces of those present, stopping at Kratos.

“Is this the mercenary who helped my students?”

Kratos nodded, and Raine flashed an obligatory smile at him in return.

“I’m Raine Sage, a teacher for this village’s school. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

It was a fair introduction, but Kratos could tell that she was being cautious. She seemed to be quite the wise woman.

“Kratos Aurion, a mercenary. I’m traveling around looking for work.”

“Work? In this area?”

“I’d heard rumors that the Chosen would soon be embarking on her Journey of Regeneration. I figured I’d swing by and see if any job opportunities popped up.”

“Then it sounds like you got exactly what you were looking for.”

Raine stared Kratos down. Kratos met her gaze, and Raine seemed content at that. She turned to look at Phaidra.

“I heard you wanted to speak with me?”

“Yes. Allow me to ask you once again: Would you be willing to accompany Colette on her journey? Your wisdom, calm decision making skills and healing artes would certainly come in handy.”

“I would love to, but I can’t just leave my brother Genis behind...”

“That child is your brother?”

Kratos thought back to the silver-haired boy from earlier that day. He used magic, and the only ones who are able to do that are those with elven blood. There are those out there who can get an injection that allows them to use magic, like Kratos himself did, but that’s limited to those within Cruxis’ ranks. Knowing that elves are almost extinct in Sylvarant narrowed down what these two might actually be.

“Yes.”

Raine looked at Kratos, cautious.

“We’ll look after Genis for you.”

Raine seemed shocked at Frank’s suggestion.

“Well... But why do you want me to go with her so badly? I’m aware the priests were killed, but surely there’s―”

“I wanted to have you accompany her from the get go,” Phaidra interjected quietly. “The Chosen of Regeneration will be on the path to her end, so I want a woman to accompany her, of whom she can confide in.”

“Her... end?” Raine muttered, and Colette flashed her a smile.

Seeing that smile made Kratos realize Colette truly had understood her fate as a Chosen. That’s likely why she was always so polite and warm.

“The Chosen undergoes a series of trials, and in doing so becomes an angel. After becoming an angel, she’s taken in by Cruxis, and there loses her life.”

Raine’s entire face stiffened. On the contrary, Colette kept a gentle smile on her face and nodded.

“By sacrificing the Chosen’s life, the world will be regenerated.”

“I... I can’t believe this...”

Kratos closed his eyes hearing them talk.

This conversation likely happened among the Chosen’s lineage each time the World Regeneration began. Though this wasn’t the full truth.

The Chosen doesn’t exactly “die.” She becomes a vacant, living corpse, and Martel takes over her body. From there, the Chosen herself ceases to exist and Martel takes her place. If this doesn’t happen, the Chosen is simply killed. Either way, the Chosen is doomed to a horrible fate. Kratos’ job was to lead her to that doom.

A demon. That’s what he was―a demon. He was neither angel nor human, just a horrible, terrible brute. Despite this, he knew that if the Chosen―if Colette succeeded and let Martel take over her body, the world would be saved.

“Professor Sage, please. I’d like you to come with me, and then return home to tell Lloyd and everyone else about my journey. You can tell them that I became an angel, and I’m living happily by the Goddess Martel’s side. I think that’d be better than them knowing I’m dead.”

“Colette...”

Raine desperately tried to hold back her tears at Colette’s words.

“I’m so sorry to ask something so hard of you, Professor...”

How would that boy react if this strong, kind Chosen were to disappear? The boy who had the same name as his son popped into Kratos’ head.

Chapter 1: Part 5 of 6

Botta’s report was incredibly irritating to Yuan. How embarrassing it was to have to send out a whole squad just to kill a 16 year old girl, and still manage to shamefully come back having failed to do that. He could maybe understand if they had just felt remorse for having to kill an innocent girl, but it wasn’t that. They had simply failed to do their job at all. How pathetic was that?

Though in a way, he couldn’t blame them given the circumstances.

Kratos Aurion had appeared. He was Yuan’s friend, as well as his biggest foe. It’s true that Botta likely wouldn’t hold a candle to him.

Yuan lost count of how many times he’d let out a deep sigh, and tossed the documents he was holding onto the desk.

It was frustrating to be stuck in Welgaia at a time like this. Though it was thanks to his position that he was able to swiftly get so many leads on what the Chosen of Regeneration was doing. He was stuck getting insider leads, but for someone who doesn’t like meticulous planning ahead, this was incredibly suffocating to Yuan.

There you are, getting mad again. There’s no need to stress so much. Just take a deep breath.

He felt as if he heard the voice of a woman he once knew.

Yuan gave a bitter smile. It was exactly times like this that required a clear and steady head.

Anyway, typically speaking, it would be unfathomable that Kratos would be at Iselia. Yuan was pretty sure Kratos wasn’t there by choice. That was a cursed, horrid land where Kratos lost his family. Even should he descend down to earth, that one area was the last place he would want to go.

There was only one person who would be able to order Kratos to do something against his will.

Mithos Yggdrasill. This was all likely part of his ruse. Yuan felt ashamed at his own inability to foresee this. He knew that this Chosen had a high chance of succeeding and that Yggdrasill would likely take whatever measures needed to ensure her success, but he never expected that he’d dispatch Kratos in order to do so. To Yggdrasill, Kratos was both the human who had betrayed him, as well as the very seal that holds back his biggest trump card. If by some chance Kratos were to die, Yggdrasill himself would fall.

Perhaps Yggdrasill doesn’t believe that “some chance” will come to pass. If so, the faith he places in Kratos is almost akin to a religious devotion, in a similar vein to the love he holds for his older sister, Martel.

The ringtone to his office’s communicator rang. Yuan hit the switch on the speaker system, as if it was the most irritating thing he’d ever do in his life.

“What do you want?”

“Lord Yuan. It is I, Pronyma of the Desian’s Five Grand Cardinals.”

“So you wish to speak about the World Regeneration. Very well then.”

Shortly after, Pronyma appeared in Yuan’s office. She bowed, and Yuan started to speak.

“So the time has finally arrived.”

“Indeed it has. The Tower of Salvation has appeared in Sylvarant, as I have seen with my own eyes.”

“Is that so. Then the Chosen is likely to embark on her journey soon enough. Speaking of,” Yuan continued on while keeping himself composed, so as to not raise suspicion, “have you finished your meeting with Kratos?”

Despite being one of Cruxis’ top men, Yuan hadn’t been informed that Kratos was down helping the Journey of Regeneration. Kratos is Sylvarant’s overseer. If he was down on earth, that would mean someone else is controlling the Desians. Depending on who was in charge, that would change how Yuan would have the Renegades operate. He needed to pry this information out of Pronyma.

“Did you not hear of what Lord Kratos is doing? It seems Lord Yggdrasill sent him down to earth on a mission.”

There was bewilderment in Pronyma’s words.

“...No, this is the first I’ve heard of it.”

Yuan responded to her, feigning ignorance, which prompted her to tilt her head in confusion.

“Perhaps news is simply coming slowly to you because you are the overseer for Tethe’alla instead. I heard Lord Yggdrasill sent him as a bodyguard for the Chosen.”

Yggdrasill has no doubt about this Chosen becoming Martel’s vessel. He’s probably just keeping information tight in order to make sure absolutely nothing can go wrong. There’d be no other reason why Yuan would be kept this in the dark.

“...Lord Yuan, do you truly see no issue in Lord Kratos being a bodyguard?”

“What are you implying?”

“Nothing really. It’s just that when I heard that Lord Kratos had descended onto Sylvarant, that past incident sprung to mind...”

“I see.

Yuan glanced down at the map of Sylvarant and rested his elbows on his desk, exhausted.

It’s been 70 years since Kratos defected from Cruxis. The event had been a complete and utter surprise to both Yuan and Yggdrasill. Despite a number of quarrels, they had been under the impression that Kratos was going to support Yggdrasill in working towards his Age of Lifeless Beings. But unbeknownst to anyone, Kratos’ heart had made a quiet shift away from following Yggdrasill. He descended onto Sylvarant and seemingly disappeared. It was decades until Cruxis was able to find him again. When they finally did, Kratos had a woman by his side―his wife, Anna.

Anna was held in a human ranch as an Exsphere host body―a test subject who would grow an Exsphere in her body to produce a Cruxis Crystal, as part of the Angelus Project. However, she escaped from the ranch with the Cruxis Crystal still growing within her. Kratos had assisted her in doing so. The two of them wandered about Sylvarant aimlessly, as if looking for something, and Cruxis pursued them relentlessly.

It was during this time that Yuan, as the leader of the Renegades, secretly got in contact with Kratos. The two of them―rather, their family was staying in a small abandoned fishing hut by the seaside. When Yuan visited, Anna wasn’t found within the building that was falling apart.

---

“So this is where you’ve been living,” Yuan asked. Kratos―who was on night watch―lifted his head. His Cruxis Crystal had been removed from his hand. The light from the fire flickered against the battered boards of the hut’s wall. Strung up by pillars with rope was a cloth that Yuan didn’t recognize the purpose of.

“Yuan. Have you come to kill me?”

“...No. I came here as your old friend.”

“...Is that so.”

Kratos lifted up the pot and poured its contents into a cup. It was a very pleasant-smelling coffee. Yuan removed his cape and sat across from Kratos.

“Where’s Anna? It’s not safe for a woman to be wandering about at this hour.”

“She’s on the beach. Noishe is with her. Our son wouldn’t stop crying, so she brought him out so the sounds of the waves would calm him.”

“Son? You have a son?!”

Kratos nodded and handed Yuan a cup of coffee.

“He’s three months old.”

Yuan was dumbfounded and looked up at the ceiling of the hut. That weird looking cloth he saw hung up was a diaper. The is the man who was once a world-famous captain of the knights. For some reason, thinking about this made Yuan sad.

“I can’t believe this. Do you even understand what kind of position you’re in?”

“I’d like to believe I do.”

“What were you thinking? Having an infant around will only hinder you when you’re constantly on the run.”

“...You’re not wrong about that.”

A smile crawled on Kratos’ face and Yuan let out a sigh.

“What is your aim right now, anyway?”

“The same thing you’re trying to do. I want to stop Mithos and his Age of Lifeless Beings.”

It’s true that Yuan was operating as the Renegades in secret. Such a thing only made him more acutely aware of how hard it was to go against Yggdrasill’s operations.

“What exactly do you think you can accomplish all on your own?”

“I am alone, you’re right, but I have a trick up my sleeve that you don’t.”

This was true. Kratos possessed the one and only thing that Yggdrasill feared. Kratos was capable of disabling the Eternal Sword―the very thing that had allowed Yggdrasill to seize control over the entire world.

Long ago, Mithos Yggdrasill had won over the trust of the Summon Spirits and been adored by them. The Eternal Sword was granted to him by Origin as a sign of said trust. However, surely the King of the Summon Spirits wouldn’t approve of how the world had been split in two, as it still currently is. Therefore, Yggdrasill sealed Origin away. He used Kratos’ mana in order to do so, and Kratos would need to die in order for the seal to be undone.

“Your trump card costs you your very life. How do you plan to work around that?”

“That’s where you come in. I have an idea.”

Kratos stared at Yuan with determination in his eyes. Yuan stared back at him.

“My plan is to kill you and get Origin to recognize me as the Eternal Sword’s master. Are you saying you’ll give me your life?”

“Yes, after I land a lethal blow on Cruxis.”

“A lethal blow? Such as?”

“...I’m going to kill Mithos.” Kratos gulped down his coffee. “Once things are settled, you can have your way with undoing the seal on Origin.”

Yuan was speechless.

Killing Mithos―the weight of those words was not lost on Yuan.

He was a friend of theirs who they had spent months―years together with. He was the disciple to Kratos’ teacher, and at the same time, he was like family; they had such a warm bond between one another. Yggdrasill’s older sister―Martel―had entrusted Yggdrasill to Kratos. And even if Kratos did defeat Yggdrasill as he claims, he will perish along with him.

“Kratos... We have spent far too long simply twiddling our thumbs. We had simply tried to overlook the fact that Yggdrasill―no, that Mithos’ light no longer flickered as it once did. I know you feel the same way I do.”

Kratos gave no response. The hut fell silent, making the sound of the flames flickering feel even more prevalent. From a distance, the sound of a lullaby could be heard. It was Anna.

“Was having a family what finally turned you to determination?”

Kratos set his cup down and stood up. He was likely going to see Anna.

“...When the time comes, I’m going to have my family escape to Iselia. That village has the non-aggression treaty in place, after all.”

“Does she know about your plans?”

“...No. Not a thing.”

“And you’re just fine with keeping her in the dark?”

Yuan stood up as he asked this. He wasn’t actually looking for an answer. Words weren’t needed for Kratos to express affirmation. That’s just the kind of man he was.

---

“...I doubt we have anything to worry about.” Yuan spun around to face Pronyma and crossed his legs. “What matters is that he did come back. He even pledged his allegiance to Lord Yggdrasill.”

“Do you truly believe so?”

“Hmph. I see women are doubtful no matter the race. Kratos... has changed. Losing his family caused him to cast off his shell, becoming a mere husk of what he once was. What exactly do you think a husk is capable of doing?”

“...You are correct. I was too abrasive in my words, wasn’t I? I do ask for your forgiveness.”

“It’s no matter. Traitors are to be doubted. I do have to ask though, if Kratos is down on the Journey of Regeneration, who is it that’s controlling the Desians?”

“That would be me. I am to control them and report everything to Lord Yggdrasill.”

Pronyma had confirmed what was the worst possible scenario.

“...I see. Then there’s nothing to worry about.” Yuan tried his best to hide his internal conflict from Pronyma and gave her a nod. “Then let us discuss what is to become of Tethe’alla post-World Regeneration.”

Yuan slipped Pronyma the documents he had gathered. As she was distracted examining them, Yuan started to plot a way to bring about Yggdrasill’s demise.

Chapter 1: Part 6 of 6

Walking through the forest at night overwhelmed Kratos with a sense of deja vu. This was the first time Kratos had ever walked down this road, that was for sure. And yet the scenery itself was familiar.

That was 15 years ago. Dashing earnestly through the forest at night, chasing after his wife Anna and his son Lloyd. No matter how many he took down, enemies just kept popping up. It felt as if an entire lifetime passed before he finally caught up to Anna and Lloyd.

“Genis, why are you coming along?”

Walking in the front was Raine, who was speaking to her younger brother Genis who was trailing behind her. Hearing this snapped Kratos back to reality.

This wasn’t the same forest as back then. It was close, but it wasn’t the same place. What he’d seen was a mere illusion, prompted by some small obscurities lining up.

Deep within this forest lies the house of a dwarf. Raine claimed the dwarf was Lloyd Irving’s adoptive father. Colette wanted to say goodbye to Lloyd tonight, since they’d be setting off so early in the morning. Knowing the fate of the Chosen, it was only right they let her. This was her final farewell, after all.

Kratos surveyed the forest with a complicated feeling in his chest. Iselia Forest was familiar to him, and there was a boy here named Lloyd, who even had the same last name as his wife Anna―Irving. Things lined up too perfectly for him to simply dismiss it as all just being a coincidence. It’s not like Kratos had seen his son’s corpse with his own eyes. He wanted to hope that such a miracle had actually occurred. Simultaneously, a part of him begged that such a miracle didn’t occur. Either way, he was terrified of whatever the truth was.

“R-Raine, you’re scaring me.”

Genis shivered and hid behind Colette, who was walking beside him. Kratos couldn’t help but snicker at how he and Genis got scared at the same time.

“Wh-What’s so funny, mister?”

“...Nothing, ignore me. However, I think fear is something you feel from deep within your own heart. Perhaps you feel guilty about something, and that’s why Raine’s voice scared you?”

As if hitting a bulls-eye, Genis gulped.

“Genis. Did something happen? Your clothes do seem awfully dirty. Don’t tell me you got up to some sort of mischief?”

“N-No way! I was just, um, doing something with Lloyd, and...”

“Don’t tell me you got him involved too.”

“I-I said, I didn’t do anything bad! Geez! Can’t I just do stuff without you having to know everything? It’s none of your business!”

“...Fine. This forest is dangerous though, you know. I didn’t want you coming along.”

“It’ll be fine, Professor. Kratos is with us!”

Colette said this so innocently that all Raine could do was shrug her shoulders.

“You’re not wrong about that. Having a mercenary with us is reassuring, but...”

Raine stared at Kratos. At this, Genis also looked up at him.

“Mister, are you going with Colette tomorrow too?”

“I am.”

“Wow. Hey, how long do you think it’ll be until the world is regenerated?”

“Who can say?”

“I’ll do my best to come home as quickly as I can!”

Colette made a pose triumphantly. Genis grabbed at the end of Colette’s skirt and furrowed his eyebrows sadly.

“...Okay. We’ll all be waiting for you.”

They continued up a small hill, and the sound of a small stream came into earshot. In between the trees, a light could be seen. The dwarf’s house was close.

With his heightened hearing, Kratos could hear the sound of Lloyd and a man who sounded like a dwarf arguing.

“You didn’t let the Desians see your Exsphere, did you?”

Kratos felt as if a stake had been driven into his heart. He stopped in his tracks and shut off his hearing.

He’d seen that Lloyd had an Exsphere during the quarrel in front of the temple. But what did he mean by it being an Exsphere he had to hide from the Desians?

He wanted to know, and he also really didn’t want to know. He felt completely torn between the two options and bit his lip. While Kratos stood there completely spaced out, the rest of the group had already approached Lloyd’s house. It seems they’d finally also heard the argument from inside the house. They were standing in front of the door, looking at one another. Kratos approached while suppressing his hearing to the normal human-level. Even then, he could clearly hear Lloyd and the dwarf arguing. A shiver ran down his spine.

“...That Exsphere is your mother’s keepsake. The Desians killed your mother in order to take it from her.”

“...They did?”

“I told you about how I found you at the cliff near the ranch, right? Your mother was still conscious at that time, so she explained everything. There’s no doubt about it.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?!”

That was his limit. Standing behind the others, who were bewildered, Kratos shut his eyes and turned off his hearing entirely. He couldn’t bear to hear another word.

There was no doubt about it. He was... Kratos’ lost hope.

He sensed a person approaching. Kratos opened his eyes to see Lloyd standing there, looking at them all rather awkwardly. Kratos adjusted his hearing to be the normal level once again, and the boy’s voice filled his ears.

“Oh...let me guess...you heard that just now?”

“I’m sorry, because of me, you...”

For some reason, Genis was apologizing to Lloyd over what happened. Kratos wondered why, but that was the last of his worries right now. Kratos studied Lloyd’s house while taking shallow breaths so that nobody would notice. It was a wonderfully built two-story house. Dwarves typically live in caverns, so this was likely built for Lloyd’s sake. There was a bench, a flower bed, a clothesline...

As Kratos’ eyes scanned the surroundings, he spotted a stone monument in the garden. His eyes immediately went to study the stone’s engraved words.

Here lies Anna Irving.

Kratos’ face stiffened.

“Lloyd, let’s go up to the terrace.”

“Sure.”

Lloyd went to follow Colette inside the house, and Kratos uttered without thinking.

“This gravestone...”

“Huh?”

Lloyd stopped and turned around.

“Whose gravestone is this?”

“Ah, you heard, right? It’s my mom’s.”

“Anna...hmm... Is your father alive?”

Kratos wondered if his voice was quivering as he asked this. He swallowed. If Lloyd remembered anything from when he was an infant, then maybe...

“...I don’t know. But Dirk is my dad.”

It felt like all of the energy drained from Kratos’ body. He couldn’t tell whether it was from disappointment or relief.

“...Yes. That was a careless thing to ask. I’m sorry.”

One thing was clear.

Lloyd―his son that he failed to protect was alive and well.

Kratos felt as if he had finally regained the life he lost 15 years ago.

[akantonelli]

THE WORLD'S FASTEST BEAR!!!!