#i actually kinda like the way he turned out

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hello!! I have a request for you!

So I was just thinking how if yuji maybe had a crush on someone and didn’t really know who to ask for advice since nobara would straight up laugh at him, and megumi wouldn’t really care. He knows the reader and Nanami are happily married so he decided to ask him for advice on how to ask the girl out!

This is the cutest thing ever, had to write that asap

Yuji asking Kento Nanami and his wife for relationship advice

Pairing: husband!Nanami x reader; Yuji x reader in a mother/son kinda way

Word Count: 1,8k

Synopsis: If there's one couple that comes to his mind when he thinks about relationships, it has to be you and Nanami-sensei. Who else to ask for relationship advice if not you and him, then?

Warnings: this is pure fluff with a tint of comedy y'all, I'm in love with the Yuji and Nanami content, just a little happiness to brighten your day hehe

Yuji Itadori wanders the halls of Jujutsu High with a slight blush dusting his cheeks. He’s been doing everything he can to pretend everything is normal, but the fact is, he’s got something weighing on him - and it’s not cursed spirits for once. He’s been distracted during training, missing cues and slipping up in ways that aren’t like him. Megumi and Nobara have noticed, but his usual grin deflects their concern. What they don’t know is that there’s a girl he can’t stop thinking about, and Yuji doesn’t know a damn thing about what to do about it.

Which is how he finds himself searching for someone to give him advice - someone who’ll listen without teasing or judgment. He’s crossed Nobara off the list right away, imagining her hysterical laughter that would probably echo through the halls. Megumi was next, but he knew his friend would just shrug and say he didn’t know much about dating either. It isn’t until later that Yuji remembers someone he admires, someone who actually knows about relationships.

But how is he supposed to talk to you?

His footsteps quicken as he makes his way toward Nanami’s office. He knocks twice, then stands there awkwardly without waiting for a reply.

“Come in- Oh, there you are.”

Yuji pushes open the door to find not just Nanami sitting at his desk, but you, his wife, by his side. His heartbeat quickens in an instant. Normally, you don’t spend much time here at Jujutsu High – just like Nanami-sensei himself. It has to mean something that you’re here today when he was just thinking about you, right? Maybe this is the best chance he’ll get in his search for answers.

The two of you have become something of a constant for Yuji, the calm among the chaos that surrounds Jujutsu High. He’s seen the way Nanami looks at you, the subtle way his hand will brush against yours, or the soft look that crosses his face when you laugh. Yuji’s always admired it, but he’s never really thought about it being something he’d want too - until recently.

“Oh, Yuji,” you greet him warmly, your smile immediately easing some of the tension in his chest.

“Is everything okay?”

“Oh! Yeah!”

He shuffles from one foot to the other, trying to work out the right way to say this. Damn, this is even more awkward than he thought.

“I was, um, actually hoping to get some advice? Like… relationship advice?”

He glances at Nanami, who’s watching him with his usual steady gaze, then looks back at you, unsure how to continue.

You exchange a look with your husband before patting the chair next to you, gesturing for Yuji to take a seat with a bright smile and a slight blush creeping up your oh so gorgeous face. No wonder even Nanami-sensei fell head over heels for you.

“Of course, Yuji,” you reply, and there’s a softness in your voice that makes him feel like it’s okay to ask for help.

“What’s going on?”

Yuji sinks into the chair, cheeks still tinged pink as he starts to fidget with his fingers. There’s no turning back now.

“There’s this girl. She’s… she’s really nice and funny and strong, and she’s got this great smile and I, uh…”

He takes a breath, unsure how to continue without sounding like an idiot.

“I think I like her. I just don’t know how to… you know, tell her.”

Nanami raises an eyebrow, clearly listening but keeping quiet, letting you take the lead. He never thought that someone like Yuji would ask him for advice in something apart from sorcery. But on the other hand…

Nanami’s gaze drifts over you, your warm and welcoming features, how you take in every little thing Yuji says with those little reassuring nods. If there’s someone who’s able to help Yuji, it has to be you. After all, you were the first woman in his life that swept him off his feet.

You smile, leaning forward a little in order to make Yuji feel more comfortable.

“That’s exciting, Yuji. I’m glad you’re thinking about it, even if it feels a little intimidating. Do you know if she might feel the same way?”

Yuji shrugs, grinning sheepishly.

“I have no idea. I think we get along, but I don’t want to make things weird, you know?”

“Understandable,” Nanami throws in, voice calm and composed.

“Rushing into something like this can make things awkward, especially if you don’t fully understand how she feels. But it’s also not wrong to want to make your intentions clear if you truly like her.”

You nod in agreement, a little surprised by the way your usually so quiet husband now took the lead to give his student relationship advice.

“Exactly. Sometimes, a small step can give you some clarity on how she feels too. You don’t have to go all in at once.”

Yuji looks at you both thoughtfully, clearly absorbing every word.

“But how? Like, I don’t know what to say to her. Should I… compliment her or something?”

You chuckle softly, trying to keep your tone light so he doesn’t feel embarrassed.

“Well, a genuine compliment never hurts. But maybe instead of going straight for it, just try spending a little more time with her first. Get a sense of her interests, things she’s passionate about. You’re naturally friendly, Yuji, so use that to your advantage.”

Yuji’s eyes widen, like a lightbulb just went off in his head.

“That… actually makes sense! If I ask her about stuff she likes, then maybe she’ll see I’m interested, right?”

“Exactly,” you reply, smiling at his enthusiasm.

“And if she responds positively, you can build up to saying something more direct. Just be yourself - that’s probably what she likes about you anyway.”

He nods, almost bouncing with excitement, but then his face falls slightly, concern creeping back in.

“But what if she… doesn’t like me like that?”

Nanami speaks up again, his voice even but warm.

“Rejection is a part of life, Yuji. If it happens, it doesn’t weaken your worth. It just means she’s not ready or interested, and that’s okay. You’ll still be the same person with the same good qualities.”

You reach out, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder, a sudden wave of pride rushing over you. When you first met Kento, everyone around you kept telling you that it’ll never work out, that he’ll never feel the same way about you, that he’s cold as ice. But especially moments like this show you more than urgently what a kind heart your husband truly has and why you fell in love with him straight away.  

“And remember, we’re here for you no matter what. But you might be surprised - she may already be hoping you’d say something.”

Yuji takes a deep breath, letting your words sink in. The blush on his cheeks deepens, but there’s a new determination in his eyes.

“Alright,” he says, more to himself than to either of you.

“I think… I think I can do this. I’ll try to talk to her more, see what she likes, and maybe, if it feels right, I’ll tell her.”

Both you and Nanami nod, clearly proud of him.

“Good,” you response, squeezing his shoulder gently.

“And let us know how it goes.”

Yuji grins, his usual spark returning to his face as he stands up, looking more energized than he has in days.

“Thanks, you guys. Really. This… this means a lot to me.”

With that, he heads out of the office, leaving you and Nanami exchanging a fond look. There’s something special about watching Yuji grow, about seeing him cope with feelings as regular as a high school crush even amidst the chaos of jujutsu life.

After he leaves, you let out a soft sigh.

“It’s so nice to see him think about something other than fighting for a change.”

Nanami chuckles.

“Yes. Though, if he’s anything like you were when we met, I imagine he’ll be quite charming in his attempts.”

You laugh, nudging his shoulder lightly.

“And if he’s anything like you, he’ll be both charming and a bit stubborn. But I think he’ll figure it out. He’s got a good heart.”

Bonus:

Days later, Yuji catches you in the hallway, an excited smile breaking across his face as he rushes over to you.

“Hey! I… I tried what you said,” he shouts, his eyes bright.

“Oh?”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued.

“How did it go?”

“She actually seemed really interested! We talked about some of her favorite movies, and I told her about my favorite songs, and it just… it felt natural, you know?”

He rubs the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly.

“And then, before I could overthink it, I just kind of… told her I liked her. And… she said she liked me too!”

Your face lights up with pride and warmth, feeling a surge of happiness for him.

“Yuji, that’s amazing! I’m so proud of you!”

He laughs, a sound full of relief.

“Thank you. I mean, I couldn’t have done it without your help. I was so nervous, but you guys helped me feel like it was okay to just go for it. Now… now I feel like I can face anything!”

“Not that you couldn’t already,” you reply with a grin, giving his shoulder a congratulatory squeeze.

“You’re braver than you think, Yuji. Just remember, relationships are like fighting in their own way. It takes work and patience, but it’s worth it.”

“I’ll remember that,” he promises, his gaze filled with determination.

And as he heads off down the hall, you’re left with a smile on your face, proud of the young man who continues to grow not just as a sorcerer, but as a person.

A voice brings you out of your thoughts - Nanami, who’s been standing nearby, watching the exchange with a slight smile.

“You have a way with these kids,” he says, his voice gentle.

You turn to him, warmth filling your chest as you take his hand.

“Only because I’ve had a good example to follow.”

He squeezes your hand, his gaze softening as he looks down at you.

“I’d say you’re a natural. And who knows,” he adds with a rare hint of humor, “maybe Yuji’s just opened up the floodgates. We might find ourselves with more ‘romantic advice’ consultations soon.”

You chuckle, leaning into him.

“I think I’d be okay with that. These kids face so much danger. They deserve a little happiness too.”

With a fond smile, Nanami nods, and you both watch as Yuji disappears down the hall, excitement carrying him forward into this new chapter of his life. And for just a moment, everything feels peaceful, like you’re all part of something beautiful in the middle of the storm.

Tags:

@arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld

@hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut 

@mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0

@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife 

@coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain 

@risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny

@ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr

@sugu-love @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world

@oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @kentocalls @cheesemachine44

@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299

@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa @cupcaketeddybehr

[hanjiwuver]

can can i request how they deal with boners in public? or like, how they deal with you turning them out (intentionally or unintentionally)

Skz Headcannons:

turning them on in public ~*

OT8 x reader HCS..

warnings: degredation, exibitionism, frottism, very tame?

your order is ready☺️ smut below the cut!!!!!!!!!

Chris:

• shy and giggly. he can’t believe half the stuff thats coming out of your mouth! (as if he hasn’t said worse)

• he’ll be hiding his red face in his hands and doing that cute squeaky giggle he always does🤭

• when he actually does get hard though, he’ll be looking around and crossing his legs, accidentally gaining a bit of friction from his jeans on his hard cock.

• but be careful, he’s a teaser too😖

•he wont make you regret it, he’ll just play along until you’re dripping and begging to go home

• (hes gonna find excuses to stay longer to get back at you)

“oh, so now you wanna go home, hm? i don’t know…ask me later. or beg me now, maybe ill decide then.”

Minho:

• will 100% laugh at your pitiful attempts to get him hard.

• he’ll just watch you with a smug/bored look on his face while you just end up riling yourself up.

• if his body ends up betraying him and he in fact is hard, he still won’t appear embarassed.

• if anything, he’ll grab your hand and have you feeling up his cock through his pants like the whore you wanted to be that day.

“did you have your fun, kitty? or did the poor slut get herself needy and wants me to take resposibility?”

Changbin:

• flustered and side eyeing you.

• he’s shifting in his chair and rubbing his plush thighs together, begging you silently to stop talking.

• its not difficult to make him hard, he never forgets the way you look on top of him, so teasing him with that image in public is torture!

• it’s when you start ghosting your hands over his cock that he’s immediately asking for the check and grabbing his keys😭 he does NAWT wanna do that shit in public but he’s literally this close to bending you over.

“let me take you home? i just need your hands, please? ill treat you so good, i promise, just let me take you back home?”

Hyunjin:

• thinks it’s kinda fun, treats it like a game/competition.

• he can hold out pretty well, but alas he’s just a boy😔

• it’s like his default setting to be inside you so he isn’t going to last very long. he just wants to feel his sweet girl.

• he’ll hide it, but will definetly show it you purposefully. he’ll lean back on something, exposing his hard on to you, biting his lip as he watches your reaction.

• or he’ll pull you into a bathroom stall and press his clothed bulge into your tummy, looking down at it and holding your hands. wants nothing more than to see your nails running along his long, hard cock.

“look how hard you made me, hm? want it? think it’s pretty? you made it, so i think it’s pretty. my little artist.”

Han:

• poor baby tries so hard to resist.

• he’s shying away from your hands and whining at you to stop when you tease him with words.

• he could never comepletely say no to you though, so he’ll let you palm his cock for a while.

• he’s arching and subtly grinding up into your hand. biting his lip while his cock leaks, trying not to get caught.

• he tries his best not to make any sounds, but he still lets whiny sighs slip through his mouth. ends up cumming in his pants anyway, only wanting to go home so he could change😭

“ah..shit..can- can i cum? or should we..go home? fuck..it’s too late. don’t stop- cumming!”

Felix:

• he doesn’t get it. he doesn’t understand why you would be saying all of these filthy things and feeling him up in public?

• he just thought you must be feeling needy. he reaches his hand over in pity, thumbing at your clothed clit and looking around to not get caught.

• your words do get to him though. as soon as you call him a few names he’s chubbing up in his pants.

• when you reach a hand over to him too, he realizes how suspicious this looks in public and just decides to finally take you home.

“aw, my poor girl. c’mere, ill make you feel as good as i can while were out. unless you wanna go home? no? my baby wants people watching?”

Seungmin:

• also shy about it.

• he doesn’t care much about the words (even if they do get his leg bouncing)

• its when you start touching him that he gets him wide eyed and flushed.

• he’ll grab your wrist and whisper-yell things like “you can’t do that, were in public!” at you.

• he’ll squeeze his legs shut and look at you with a slight sheen of excitement in his eyes. he’ll start stroking your ankle with the tip of his shoe, while resting his head on his hands. he’ll play along a bit for now.

“hm? what? am i not allowed to play with you too? touching me and saying such filthy things in my ear, who taught you that, huh? such a slut.”

Jeongin:

• he’s amused, but still suprised at your boldness.

• he has a wide smile on his face, mouth hanging open and his hand dramatically pushing you off of him.

• will deadass run away like he doesn’t know you

• if he gets hard oh lord he’s hunting you down.

• he doesn’t care if you’re in a bookstore, he’s finding the isle you’re on and dragging you out😭

• he’s laughing like he can’t believe that just happened, but trust your pussy is done for when you get home.

“yah! look what you did! couldn’t wait 10 minutes could you? eager slut. im taking you home, and you’re fixing this.”

[maybanksprincess]

seven minutes in heaven

warnings: suggestive but no actual smut, mature themes, dry humping, tongue kissing.

summary: a game of seven minutes in heaven leads to reader and jj stuck in a closet together.

pairings: childhood!bsf!jj x childhood!bsf!reader

requested by this ask (thank you anon!) i dont know much about the game, so if i got one of the steps wrong, im sorry in advance.

you and the rest of the pogues gathered together on a saturday night to drink beers, smoke weed, and play spin the bottle. typical pogue shit.

all of you were sat in a circle on the carpet in the living room floor of the chateau. there was a glass beer bottle in the middle of all seven of you.

for a half hour, the game was spin the bottle. everyone's facial expressions quickly grew bored. John B, and Sarah were talking about something totally different, Pope and Cleo gone to grab a new crate of beers.

After a few more moments of all of you staring at the wall blankly, Kiara's the first to break the awkward silence. "hey what's that game we all used to play when we were sophmores?" she asks, twirling a piece of her curly hair around her pointer finger.

after kiara speaks, jjs facial expression changes to one of interest. he thinks for a moment and then speaks, "the one where you get locked in a closet for like ten minutes?" he asks

Pope rounds the corner with a few beers tucked in his arm. Cleo not far behind him "seven minutes." he corrects, pointing a finger at him.

jj rolls his eyes at the correction and mimics a mouth with his hand, mocking his words "seven minutes" he says, trying his best to sound as much like pope as possible.

you flick the back of jjs neck, mumbling a shut up to him. he lets out a high pitched ow and rolls his eyes, but ultimately he stops his mocking.

John b turns back towards the group at the mention of the new game. "are we finally gonna play something other than spin the bottle? im kinda tired of landing on Sarah." he teases

Sarah shoves him playfully, and then turns back to the topic of conversation. "Yeah we should play, it sounds fun. how does it work?" she asks, tilting her head slightly.

Pope speaks up this time, "we spin a bottle for two people, whichever two people it lands on, they go in a closet together for seven minutes to do whatever they want." he adds with a hint of suggestion at the end of his sentence.

jj smirks and turns to look at you, memories of the last time you two played this game when you were fifteen, when you shared your first kiss.

it was the first kiss for both of you, so it was sloppy and had a lot of teeth and tongue, it was sickening to think about, but never forgotten.

jj pipes up next, "yup we can play. this games borin' anyways." he says with a shrug.

everyone else agrees and shifts themselves back into a circle on the carpet. Pope places the bottle in the middle, then darting his eyes from one pogue to another.

"so whos first?" pope speaks

jj doesn't waste a second in volunteering to go first. "me! uh- ill spin first." he says, clearing his throat. everyones eyes fly to jj, giving him a questioning look.

"dude you answered that way too fast." john b says with a growing smirk on his face, his eyes now flickering between me and jj sitting beside one another.

"dude shut up!" jj says, before reaching forward and spinning the glass bottle, he crosses his arms and sneakily crosses his fingers hoping, praying, that it lands on you.

everyones eyes are glued intensely to the bottle, the tension in the small room palpable.

eventually the bottle comes to a stop, the tip of it pointing right to your knee. jj has to hold back from jumping up and saying something like hell yeah!

he instantly stands up, holding his hand out for you to take. "cmon m'lady." he teases, and looks at you with his typical shit eating grin.

you roll your eyes and take his hand, standing up and walking to the closed closet with him.

"i bet everyone can guess what they're gonna do in that closet." john b says with a smirk, as he watches jj open the closet door and enter.

"gross! i dont even wanna think about it." kie adds on, then everyone starts to whisper about both of you in the open circle.

as you both get in the cramped closet, jj takes a seat on stacked boxes that clearly say "fragile" but he obviously doesn't seem to mind. he looks up at you still standing there awkwardly in the dimly lit space.

"seems oddly familiar, doesn't it?" he teases. your brain floods with memories of you and jj in the same situation back in sophomore year.

you both had been in this exact crammed closet, deciding you could both share you first kiss together. it was sloppy, uncoordinated, and you both were trying to figure out a comfortable spot to place your hands. it was an awkward and uncomfortable kiss, but it was stuck in your brain nonetheless.

"yeah, really familiar." you chuckle nervously, looking around, and tapping your foot on the ground. you avoid eye contact with the blonde, hoping this seven minutes would pass by quickly.

he notices your shift in mood, and he smirks. he spreads his legs and moves his arms behind his head as he speaks.

"you know, were in here for a whole seven minutes. we should put it to good use, right?" he was enjoying making you nervous, and teasing you.

when he doesn't get a response, he gently pulls you onto his lap so your straddling him. he looks up into your eyes in the dimly lit closet, with something you cant quite describe.

before you know it, your both leaning in slowly, jj is the one to connect his lips with yours. the kiss was gentle and chaste at first, your mouths moving passionately against one another.

jjs hands find their way to your waist, gently caressing the flesh. you take that as a sign to move your hands up his torso, then settling your arms around his neck, all while continuing to kiss him passionately.

the kiss grows more intense over time, your tongues fighting for dominance against one another. eventually you catch yourself grinding your hips against his, as you both makeout.

minutes go by, and he finds himself lost in your kisses and the way your grinding your hips against his. his cock doesn't take long to stir in his cargo shorts.

when you feel his buldge press up against you, your hips move a little faster, the kisses becoming more desperate. before you know it, a light is shining in the closet and the sound of the door creaking fills your ears.

you pull away from jjs lips briefly to look at who opened the door.

"seven minutes are up, lovebirds." john b says with a jerk of his head, motioning for you two to get out the closet with a smirk.

IM SO SORRY TO LEAVE YALL ON A HANGER LOL

[savanir]

Danny ends up with the most embarrassing puppy crush on Kyle.

It is horribly obvious for everyone except Kyle who thinks he's just doing a great job at mentoring, "he listens really well. Picks everything up so fast. Teaching him is great to be honest"

And Danny just glows under the praise. 

Danny knows too, it's impossible to deny when he gets teased that much for it. 

But he's nice okay!? Kyle is super nice and funny and kind and Danny got him to laugh when he went "Ghost activate!" And transformed the first way and then went "Enchantrix" and put the lantern stuff on. He did poses. Kyle found it hilarious. His laugh was really nice. Give him a break!

And Danny knows and he understands. There is the whole age thing. Kyle is older. So he figures that eventually it'll just go away and maybe they can laugh about it later. "Ahahaha, remember when I was the world's most embarrassing person and I behaved like a lunatic around you? Haha man, what was I thinking! Super glad you’re still willing to be friends though"

He doesn't realise he's fucked until he had a depressed, worn down, falling apart Kyle Rayner that he dragged into his apartment. The poor guy had an absolute awful assignment where peace between three planets fell apart and a lot of lives were lost in the war that followed. His latest comic series got canceled last minute by the publisher and turns out things didn't work out with his girlfriend after all.  

So Danny dropped him on the couch. Wrapped him up in the Yeti fur blanket Frostbite gifted him a while ago. Gave him homemade fudge and a nice mug filled with caramel latte Macchiato with extra choco sprinkles and then fetched the Transformers prime DVD's he got on Kyle's recommendation.

So they could watch it, cause Danny knows Kyle likes Transformers. And that way he'd have at least a somewhat less shitty evening and then Kyle gave him this watery smile later and went "you know, I'm really glad you got chosen to be a green lantern Danny" and Danny just kinda sat there and went, "yeah me too" like a dumbass. 

It's actually not until then, that he knows. 

And after that he figures he just has to suck it up, somehow. Cause as far as Danny knows his friend is very straight. And Kyle still calls him his kohai (and sometimes ruffles his hair, which feels sorta nice. Hal does too, but with him it just makes Danny want to phase him through the nearest solid object and make him stuck for a while) and if that's not a very clear boundary Danny doesn't know what is.

and bonus GL Danny

The What Corps?

“we have you now spook! there is nowhere you can run and hide with our new spectral tethers active!”

Danny winces at the small metal clips that have hooked themselves in his leg, some new GIW tech that is messing with his powers.

“oh yeah? I was just dying for you guys to give me a challenge” plan. plan. He's gotta think of a plan to get out of here and fast. He takes a steadying breath and starts to look for anything that can help him.

he can’t get caught here. He just can't. He simply won’t allow himself.

suddenly the two GIW goons in front of him click their earpieces to clearly listen to what someone else is telling them, Danny is very glad for his own enhanced senses.

“Operatives K and O, be advised, there have been sightings of a new ectoplasmic entity near your location. Other operatives report that it’s incredibly small and moves fast. watch your backs, this may be an ambush”

small and fast? it better not be some poor little blob ghost, Danny sort of hopes it’s some manner of ectowasp, at least that could be entertaining to see.

“you better not be hoping for back up, ecto scum”

“I have no idea what you are talking about”

It's then that a small bright green light zips on scene and weaves through crowds in the distance with ease and then speeds up towards the two operatives who do not hesitate to shoot, missing completely like the storm troopers they are.

Whatever it is, it is indeed going very fast but Danny manages to figure out what it looks like and it appears to be a… ring?

“hold it you tiny accessory shaped ecto fiend!”

The ring does a speedy circle around Operative O while K is lining up a shot and ends up blasting the poor guy point blank in his face, “O!”

Danny takes a step forward with an arm outstretched and a “oh damn! Are you alright?” on his lips when the ring takes the chance to slip on his finger. “Daniel Fenton of Earth”

Danny already had a freakout about a ghost jewelry getting on him, his experiences with those so far have been incredibly bad after all, what with the rings and crowns and pendants… now this damn thing is just straight up outing him! 

Thank the ancients the two GIW stooges are too busy with each other right now to pay close attention to what this weird ring is saying.

“You have the ability to overcome great fear” ah so this is related to him steeling himself just now? Maybe? or something??

You have been chosen” never good, we are back to freaking out again.

“Welcome to the green lantern corps” 

… the what?

Danny notices that his usual outfit suddenly has more green going on, and his DP symbol has some sort of… he guess it’s supposed to be a lantern, maybe? shape around it.

He’s somehow even more glowy now, and there is something on his face. Feeling its shape makes him think it’s some sort of mask.

The metal clip things are no longer attached to his legs though so that’s great!

“You’re not getting away so easily ecto scum! sentient ghost paraphernalia coming to your rescue or no!” They both aim their weapons to take a shot.

Danny figures he can now easily hold them back with his usual shields,“you guys realize you just called this weird ring sentient and thereby negate the whole nonsentie-ack!”

“Attacking a corps lantern is punishable offense as of the instatement of the galactic diplomatic immunity as declared by the-” Okay so now Danny is just raising his eyebrow at this weird as fuck ring. Just what is it going on about?

“notifying nearby lanterns and requesting assistance with apprehension of hostiles”

what?

“getting your friends to help you out vile spook? such a thing is useless with the Blackout still very much in place”

Well… the two streaks of green light in the distance is making Danny doubt that statement.

Maybe there is more to this Lantern corps thing than he thought… And something tells him his life is about to get even more complicated than it already is.

[lia-lillies]

how i think various hsr men would ask you out (gender neutral reader)

warnings: none; poor attempts at humor and possible swearing

a/n: wowee! 2 hsr posts in one day; go me!

tagging @sheyfu, @ayrastv, and @threnodians cause they eat my writing up all the time, every time 

the planners 

these guys are great! they are ready and organized to ask you out. they have a date, time, and everything else planned for the PERFECT date, and he may even account for when things look dicey. the date WILL go smoothly because he did all of the work and made the most out of the scenario. so help him, dear god (or aeons), if he doesn’t account for something and the date goes horribly wrong- the date goes perfectly fine, spoilers. 

dr. ratio, welt, dan heng, moze, gepard, jiaoqiu, your faves!

the somewhat planners

they do the bare minimum when planning but may accidentally schedule something very last-minute, which then leads into your date. but it all turned out fine in the end, and he was just happy to be around you and bask in your amazing presence. the vibes? chaotic, but it was actually quite a nice time! 

boothill, caelus, sampo, aventurine, your faves!

the flirt

very eloquent in his words that you almost don’t recognize that he’s asking YOU out, quite silly indeed. but then as the conversation goes on, there’s this almost desperate sound to his voice. oh my god, he’s not being a shithead and asking you out for real. very suave and eloquent, but he does plan everything with your preferences in mind. listen, he may be a flirt, but he’s so down bad for you, let’s be honest. be honored he’s asking you to go out with him, for my sake.

jing yuan, luocha, gallagher, argenti, your faves!

the desperate lil’ simps (this is a joke btw)

they are the epitome of “PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE” in paragraph form (yknow the one, we all do) but seeing him like this is kinda funny- so funny to the point you decide in taking blackmail of the moment and watch the light in his eyes go from happiness to horror. you don’t do it in the end, but the idea was funny in the moment. they just want to spend time with you, and who would you be to deny them of that? 

caelus, sampo, luka, aventurine, your faves!

the straightforward (almost menacing)

their tone of voice when they ask you out is almost a 180 from how they normally he talks to you, it’s almost scary. it’s a simple “go out with me” that catches you completely off guard and almost knocks you off your feet. but in actuality, he adjusts the date to your liking and you have a pleasant time! the way he asked could have been better, though…blade, dr. ratio, moze, gallagher, your faves!

©lia-lillies 2024.

[redeemingvillains]

obliviate - mattheo riddle

summary: when voldemort finds out about you and mattheo, he devises the perfect way to keep you apart.

word count: 5k

a/n: okeeey i know this is longer, but i actually adore it so much! kinda put my heart + soul into this one! extremely special shoutout to @pizzaapeteer's research on mattheo's favorite quidditch team, which provided a name i needed at the very end (hint hint!) ♡

warnings: angst (but also fluff, pls, it's me), use of the cruciatus curse, voldemort being voldemort.

soundtrack: dancing to the sound of a broken heart - galantis

OBLIVIATE (v.) -- To forget, to wipe from existence.

You noticed before he did.

It was early; the morning sun was just barely sneaking past the curtains in the window that fluttered gently in the autumn breeze, setting his bedroom in a deep golden hue. Your limbs were heavy with sleep and you were settled warmly in Mattheo’s arms, you could feel the rise and fall of his chest at your back, his warm breath on your neck. Normally this was your very favorite way to wake up, but something was off, something had made your eyelids flutter open, a feeling, a foreboding.

You didn’t want to wake him, gods knew he needed his sleep, so you squinted slowly around the room until your eyes rested on the very arms that were wrapped around you.

It was his dark mark, writhing against his skin.

No— you thought, but in an instant, Mattheo jolted awake, breathing heavily like he was coming out of a nightmare, or coming into one, and within a moment he was pulling his arms out from around you and you immediately felt cold for their absence.

“Matty” you whispered, turning to face him and reaching out for him, but he was already up and out bed, pulling his clothes on haphazardly.

He turned at the sound of your voice, looking longingly at you for the briefest moment, tangled in his sheets, perfect in the morning glow, your eyes begging him not to leave.

“Stay?” you asked quietly, and his stomach lurched. Fuck if you didn’t have the ability to bring him to his knees with just one word; but his arm burned and ached with impatience… He wouldn’t be kept waiting much longer and Mattheo could only come up with so many excuses as to why he was always late without exposing the truth, desperate to protect you.

“I have to…” he started, but he didn’t finish the statement, didn’t want to say what exactly he’d have to do and thank the gods you never asked.

“I know” you sighed.

“I love you” he said, leaning forward to kiss you sincerely, his fingers brushing your jawline, taking one last piece of humanity and goodness with him.

“I love you more” you whispered as his form disappeared in front of you, leaving you alone.

Mattheo knew the moment he arrived that something was deeply deeply wrong.

He recognized his surroundings at once: the Riddle family manor. The halls echoed with a silence so familiar to him and his childhood it felt like his heart stopped beating so as not to make a sound. Besides silence, though, he also felt the other hallmark of his childhood: loneliness. He was alone; not one in a mistakable mix of followers that he could slip into undetected, he was home, and he was alone, and he felt an uneasiness, a sickness settle over him as the hairs on the back of his neck began to rise and he turned to see his father stepping out of the shadows.

“Twelve minutes” he said by way of greeting, avoiding Mattheo’s eyes as he approached him like a predator would its prey.

“Twelve minutes. From the time I summoned you, until now. What, pray tell, was so pressing, so urgent as to cause your delay?”

Mattheo’s mind swept quickly over the image of you in his bed, your hair splayed on his pillow, the smile on your lips and your soft whisper as he’d apparated, but he quickly dismissed the thought.

“S’early” he said, kicking himself for how his voice waivered in its reply.

Voldemort nodded in mock understanding, like he was considering this, drawing out the silence between them, painfully so.

“So not only are you late, but you are also lying” he said, emphasizing the last word, spitting it like a hiss, his black eyes snapping to Mattheo’s in way that caused him to jolt in reply, an automatic defense mechanism against the only living being capable of scaring him as Voldemort stormed towards him, entering his personal space as his voice rose.

“Do you remember what happened to Alexei Donovan when he lied to me?” he asked.

Mattheo’s eyes shifted between his fathers, swallowing, vividly remembering watching Nagini devour Donovan limb from limb.

“ANSWER ME!” his voice boomed.

“Y-y-yeah” he stuttered.

“Yes, my Lord” Voldemort corrected him.

“Yes, my Lord” Mattheo repeated.

And then Voldemort’s tone changed completely, as he took a step back and a smile spread across his inhuman face, which was somehow more disturbing than the alternative.

“But I am a merciful Lord, aren’t I?” he asked, his head cocked, daring Mattheo to disagree.

“Yes, my Lord” he said.

Voldemort nodded in approval.

“Yes, I am. And what a relief that must be to Ms. YLN at this very moment, hmm?” he asked, his eyes clocking Mattheo’s reaction as the blood drained from his face, his eyes blew wide and his shaking hand reached for his wand.

You watched the empty space where Mattheo had apparated like he might change his mind and come back, perhaps willing him to, before you laid back down, settling for his lingering warmth and his smell against the sheets when you heard footsteps outside the door.

You sat up, excited...naive you would think later, so fucking naive with the hope that he had returned, only to feel the blast of the door getting blown off of its hinges as you moved to cover your face from the flying debris.

Mattheo was breathing erratically, his chest visibly rising and falling with pure, unadulterated rage mixed with a fear so palpable it was like he could taste it on his tongue. He was desperately trying to rein in his emotions and failing miserably as his mind catapulted over every worst case scenario.

He spoke, finally, conjuring the only thing he could think to say as his brain continued in overdrive.

"Don't" he said firmly, threateningly, his voice level for the first time that morning.

His father smiled broadly without an ounce of kindness behind his eyes as they narrowed.

"You never learn… What did I tell you? What have I always told you? This—" he said, gesturing to Mattheo's body shaking in fight or flight mode "—is weakness. Look at you!" he said with disgust, with disdain, "You're worthless. You can't decide what to you, your mind is divided when it should be focused; you're thinking of her when you should be thinking only of yourself!"

Mattheo heard every word he was saying, but all he could think about was you, about how to get back to you, how to stop whatever had already begun; but it was like chasing a train on foot that had long since left the station, no matter how badly he wanted to jump in front of it, it was far too late.

"So, one question remains" Voldemort said, circling him again. "You...Or her?" he asked, sneering.

Mattheo's eyes flicked darkly to his father. "Me or her what?" he said through gritted teeth.

"Surely you understand that I can't allow this relationship to continue with the way it's destroying you, and while the Carrows provided me with a lengthy list of ways we could enforce that" he said, smiling, letting the threat of his most devoted followers linger. "I have something much simpler in mind." He stopped pacing, snapping to face Mattheo fully, his robes flourishing around him.

"I will have your memories" he said proudly. "And one of you will forget their feelings for the other... forever" he whispered as Mattheo felt weak in his knees, like they'd buckle beneath the weight of what had been said.

"So, whose will it be?" Voldemort asked.

You felt excruciating pain in every limb, every tendon, every bone, and when you opened your mouth to scream, the Carrows took your words.

All you could do was watch them through the tears that poured out of your eyes in your silent struggle, willing, praying for Mattheo to come back, pleading with him in your mind; please, please, please you thought even as you felt your resolve and strength waning.

Mattheo's mouth had run dry and there was bile in the back of his throat at the impossible decision before him: Either forget the brightest light in his life, perhaps the only thing keeping him steady in an ever-spiraling world, forget the way your skin felt under his fingertips, the smell of your shampoo, how tightly you squeezed him when he hugged you, or the sound of your laugh, the way you listened sincerely to him with your full attention or rubbed his back when he couldn't sleep; forget the only and most sincere feeling of love he’d ever experienced.

Or worse, meet your eyes and not see a light behind them, the way they'd twinkle with adoration for him, watch you forget him completely and live life instead as your friend, a bystander, maybe even watch you fall in love with someone else... His stomach lurched.

...But in a way, isn't that what you deserved? To live a life free of all of this, free of him and the pain he caused you, constantly, every time he had to leave, every time he had to live this second life. You were meant for more than this, you deserved to be loved by someone who could give you everything in return.

"Hers" he spluttered. "Take her memories" he said quickly before he could change his mind.

Voldemort nodded obligingly before waving a hand, dismissing him.

Your eyes fluttered open as you lay in your four-poster bed, a soft smile on your lips as you saw the morning sun just barely sneaking past the curtains in the window that fluttered gently in the autumn breeze, setting your bedroom in a deep golden hue.

Your limbs were heavy with sleep and you were settled warmly in your sheets. You felt refreshed, though you had the smallest echo of a headache that you attempted to rub away as you got ready for the day.

You made your way down to breakfast, settling in amongst your friends.

"Good morning!" you said cheerfully as you took your usual seat between Pansy and Blaise.

"Good morning, babes!" Pansy chirped as the boys nodded, waved, and greeted you in various acknowledgements. You grabbed a pastry and pressed closer to Blaise to help him with the crossword puzzle in the Daily Prophet. You were deeply focused on the black and white print when Mattheo wandered in, sliding onto the bench across from you. His movement caught your eye and you glanced at him and offered a small wave before returning your attention to the paper.

And that was all he got.

A glance, a smile that he tried to hold on to, to see if there was even a glimmer of recollection behind it. But there was nothing.

The spell was strong. It had tied up every lose end. Your things were gone from his room, your pictures together wiped clear by the time he returned, even your hair tie had disappeared from his wrist. And when he crawled into his bed, and realized your scent was gone from his sheets, he pulled his pillow over his head to mask his muffled sob.

Now not even his friends remembered your relationship, he realized, as he looked around at them, all totally unphased by the fact that you weren't glued to each other's side. At once he craved the way Theo complained incessantly about your PDA, and Blaise teased him for being whipped. He would give anything anything for something other than the complete ignorance in front of him.

He'd never felt so alone.

A few days later, you noticed Mattheo was...off. Even moreso than usual. You were used to him being standoffish, reserved, a total closed book, but you sensed something different about him. You had never been close, but something about his demeanor kept catching your attention.

"Are you okay?" you asked him that weekend at the Slytherin house party.

You'd had to raise your voice to be heard over the crowd and the loud music and his eyes snapped to yours, almost in shock, before they began intently searching your face.

You looked back at him, confused, waiting for a reply.

"M'fine" he said finally, taking a long drink from his cup in an effort to occupy hands that desperately wanted to pull you into him and lips that desperately wanted to tell you a truth that didn't exist anymore.

"Lighten up, Matty!" you said, gently shoving him on his chest as you walked away, and he nearly choked on his firewhiskey, because there was only one person in his life that had ever called him that, and it was you, beginning the night you'd first time told him you loved him.

He watched you walk away and fade back into the crowded party, wondering, daring to hope that there was a way to get you back.

After that night, Mattheo’s attention on you increased tenfold. The following morning he'd squeezed his way next to you at breakfast, nearly knocking Blaise off the bench as he slid you your favorite coffee.

"Oh!...Thank you?" you'd said, surprised as you peered over his shoulder at Blaise and then looked down at the latte. "How did you—?"

"—Can I walk you to class?" he asked eagerly, a smile on his face.

"Suuureeee" you said hesitantly.

Then, he wanted to walk you to every class, and he'd even offered to carry your books. It was kind, endearing even, but it felt misplaced, so out-of-the-blue that it caught you off guard and confused you.

"Mattheo, I really want to thank you for everything you've been doing for me" you said finally as you walked out of your potions class to find him waiting for your eagerly, like a puppy, a smile on his face. Your eyes shifted to the classmates that walked by, eyeing the two of you together. "I just want you to know, I'm not really looking for anything serious. We're friends, that would be a little...weird, you know?" you said gently.

A moment.

And then he felt a chasmic split in his heart that he didn’t think he’d live through once, let alone twice. It had never occurred to him that there was a world in which you wouldn’t fall madly in love with him again as your words brought a memory rushing forward...

"Is this going to be weird?—" you asked, breathless, until his lips cut you off again, crashing to yours as his hands pulled you further against him in the broom closet. "—Darling, I could not care less" he murmured against you, and you laughed as your fingers tangled into the curls at the base of his neck and he felt your tongue against his own. “Mmm our friends are going to lose their mind” you whispered, grinning wickedly at him.

"Matty?" you asked, concerned at the look on his face, pulling him out of the memory, even as he tried and failed to hold on to it.

His eyes refocused on yours as his face darkened.

"Why are you calling me that?" he asked abruptly, his eyes narrowing.

"What?" you asked, taken aback at his tone.

"Matty. Why are you calling me that?"

"I—" you started before looking up at him, confused, feeling the dull ache of one of your more frequently occurring headaches coming on. "I-I don't know" you said quickly, a blush rising to your cheeks as you pushed past him.

He turned and punched the wall forcefully, feeling his knuckles crack in response.

Weeks went by. Every second in your existence was a painful reminder of what he would never have again, and yet he refused to distance himself, desperate for your laugh even if was for someone else, your smile, even if he wasn't the one to put it there.

Sometimes he swore he saw the slightest recollection in your eyes; he'd catch you looking at him, and you'd smile when he caught your eye, but it was always friendly, never like the look you used to give him, with the glimmer of something sinfully mischievous beneath it that had the two of you tumbling into his bed between classes.

The whole situation was setting him on edge, making him more anxious and fidgety than he'd ever been. But, of course, no one seemed to notice, his friends either chalking it up to his normal idiosyncrasies or bewitched to ignore his unusual behavior.

Now he was staring at the book in his lap, reading the same line over and over and over again, his mind running ragged as you sat beside him. At this distance he could smell your perfume, could feel your warmth radiating next to him and his heart ached at your proximity.

He hadn't realized he was doing it at first, but his leg was jiggling incessantly between the two of you, his jitters working at the pace of his mind, his body's panicked response to being so tantalizingly close to you, so desperate for you and not being able to have you. Suddenly he felt a warm hand on his leg, resting there gently as fingers began to trace a familiar pattern on his thigh, causing his jittering to slow along with his heart, which had now dropped into his stomach.

He glanced sidelong at you, afraid to move an inch, terrified that you would stop. He noticed you hadn’t broken your concentration on your book, perhaps hadn’t even realized you were touching him, it was like your body was moving on autopilot to comfort him in the very way you used to, tracing hearts on his thigh before nuzzling into him or pressing a warm kiss to his cheek.

He held his breath with the hope that this might mean something deeper, that there was a piece of you that remembered him as he closed his eyes, and tried to focus on the pattern of your fingers, the simple touch nearly bringing him to tears as he tried to let himself live in the memory of you.

You were right at the very best part of your book, the plot finally taking off, when you felt the familiar ache in your head that very quickly turned to a throbbing that brought you back to the present moment, and made you realize your hand had been resting on Mattheo’s thigh.

“Oh, gods!” you said suddenly, pulling your hand back quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—” you started until you saw the pained expression on his face, his eyes closed, his head hung as his hand carded through his hair. Your headache was pounding in full now, enough to make you wince and touch your temple. His eyes fluttered open, looking at you with concern.

“YN—?”

“—S-Sorry!” you said quickly, gathering your things and beelining for your room.

“Have you noticed anything… different with Mattheo recently?” you asked Pansy that weekend.

You were laying on your stomach on your bed, flipping casually through a magazine as she sat next to you, admiring her nails as she painted them a deep emerald.

You’d tried to ask as nonchalantly as you could, but she looked up at you with an eyebrow raised in question.

“I don’t know he’s been so… strange with me. He’s wanted to walk me to class, and carry my books, he wants to hang out all the time and he somehow knew how I liked my latte…?” you trailed off, leaving out the way your hand had ghosted over him, the expression on his face, and your recurring headaches that didn't feel like a coincidence anymore, flaring up every time you were around him.

A moment passed but Pansy didn’t reply and when you looked at her you saw that her expression hadn’t changed; she was staring blankly at you, not saying a word, which was extraordinarily odd to put it mildly.

This was the type of gossip that would usually have her on her feet, screaming, spiraling, devising a messy plan to get two of her best friends together, but you were getting nothing in return, less than nothing.

“Pans?” you goaded, prompting a response.

Her head tilted slightly, abnormally in a way that was starting to creep you out as her blank stare continued and you slowly pulled yourself upright and away from her.

“Let it go” she said flatly. “You’re imagining things.”

You were taken aback and started to respond before she interrupted you.

“—I mean, you can’t think that he’s into you or something, do you? He would never go for you… what would he see in you? What could you possibly have to offer the Dark Lord’s son YN? He’s got girls lined up out the door for him.”

You felt tears sting your eyes as you sat up fully now. Never once in your almost ten years of friendship had she ever said anything like that to you before. You were hurt, but you also couldn’t help but feel like something was very very wrong as fear fluttered in your heart at her dark words and unnatural expression.

Suddenly, your mind snapped black for a moment to another time you felt foreboding, felt fear in your bones, screaming silently with no one to hear you and you stumbled to your feet, wiping the tears from your eyes as your head throbbed so hard you were afraid you were going to be sick.

Pansy looked up at you, and smiled, unphased by the way you were shaking or swiping at your running mascara as she smiled. “Want to go to dinner babes?” she asked cheerful again, like she had forgotten everything she’d just said to you.

“I-I’ve got to go” you said quickly, as you made your way for the door, desperate to find the person you sensed was responsible for this all.

You made your way to the common room in slow motion, like one of those dreams where you’re running but not actually going anywhere. You felt flushed and feverish as your body began to tremble and the room felt like it was distorting itself. You looked around frantically and found Mattheo walking in your group of friends on their way to dinner.

“YN!” Blaise cheered, noticing you approach as Draco and Theo turned in concert, smiling widely at you with uncannily happy expressions.

But the minute Mattheo’s eyes landed on you, his smile dropped to concern and he quickly approached you, closing the distance between you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked immediately, reaching for you before pulling his hands back awkwardly.

“Can I talk to you?” you winced as your headache intensified “Please?”

“Yeah, of course” he said eagerly, motioning to his friends, “I’ll catch up with you” he said, nearly ignoring them completely as he led you back towards their now empty room.

He shut the door behind you both and you swayed on your feet before moving between the four poster beds and sitting on the edge of his.

There were five identical beds in the room and he tried not to read too much into the fact that you’d known which was his, even though in this reality you’d never been here. And then he tried to calm the erratic beating of his heart of you being here, alone with him, in his room, shaking the thought from his mind quickly as he took in the pained look on your face, your eyes pinched closed as you rubbed your temple

He came quickly to you, kneeling in front of you, moving to place his hands on your legs and pulling back, never knowing what the fuck to do with them anymore around you.

“What’s going on—” he started.

“—What did you do to me?” you whispered harshly, your eyes fluttering open, your face scrunched angrily in accusation.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Mattheo, something is very very wrong, and you can’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

He stopped breathing. It couldn’t be.

“Our friends aren’t normal, people around us aren’t normal, and I feel like my insides are on fucking fire” you said, grimacing. “And it only happens when I’m around you. I’m not an idiot, Mattheo, is this because I turned you down?”

For his part he looked like he was about to cry, he didn’t look threatening or guilty, just enormously sad as he looked up at you with his amber eyes and your headache split to a nearly debilitating degree and tears flowed from your eyes in pain.

“My head” you said in a muffled sob.

You felt his warm hands rest on your legs, the first time he’d let himself touch you in months and you felt another flash in your mind, him smiling down at you with a lopsided grin in a way you’d never seen him look at you before, with adoration, with longing, with love, but it didn’t feel weird this time, it felt normal, so familiar…

“YN?” he whispered and your eyes fluttered open to see his transfixed on you, scanning your every feature, his expression full of concern. “Please hear me when I say I would never ever hurt you.” A lie he realized too late as he looked at you now.

“I-I know that?” you said shakily. “Somehow I know that but I don’t know how else to explain this or how I’m feeling” you said, sniffling.

“Fuck!” he muttered in frustration as he stood up and started pacing, running his fingers through his hair. He was certain that something was happening and yet he had no idea how to help you, the image of you crying in pain on his bed making him physically ill.

You sniffed again and said the next sentence so softly he swore he'd dreamt it.

“You have a scar on your shoulder, here” you said, gesturing over your own shoulder blade, tracing the same pattern of the raised skin on his back.

“You take your tea with milk and two sugars” your voice wobbled but was gaining strength as you kept speaking and he turned to look at you.

“You write left-handed but play quidditch right handed.”

Your eyes squeezed shut, words tumbling from your mouth now, like a broken dam.

“You always wanted a dog growing up and if you’d had one you would have named him—"

“—Zoryn” you said simultaneously. He moved to approach you, crouching in front of you again as he stared at you in awe, unable to believe what was going on.

Your eyes opened at his voice.

“After my favorite quidditch player” he said. “YN you’re the only person who knows that.”

“Why do I know these things?” you asked, pained.

He opened us mouth but nothing came out.

“Matty” you were practically beginning him to help you understand but he was too scared to be wrong, too scared to tell you the truth.

“...I’m the only one that calls you that” you whispered, and he nodded encouragingly.

“Yeah, you are” he said quietly, gently.

You reached out tentatively, your hand trembling and touched his cheek and he let his head fall against the palm of your hand, nuzzling into you as his eyes fluttered closed. You sniffed again.

“It’s okay, love, I’m here” he said tenderly.

“B-But you weren’t there” you said, breathing heavily all of a sudden, panicked. “I-I was scared and I wanted you there and you weren’t there…” and just like that your eyes blinked to his and memories came like an avalanche as you stood and he rose his feet beside you.

The first time he kissed you, the feeling of his warm palm in yours, tangling your fingers in his curls, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest in bed, the way he’d pull you onto his lap at breakfast and everyone would moan about it, him nuzzling into your neck, his arms around your waist and his hand at the small of your back in the corridor between classes. His lopsided grin as his amber eyes twinkled down at you and he whispered “Gods, I’m crazy about you, darling”

“I remember! I remember!” you said finally looking up at the real Mattheo standing in front of you, his face somewhere between sheer panic and shock and suddenly the inches between you were too much as you flew into his arms, wrapping yourself around him as he lifted you off the ground.

“Fuck baby” he said as you felt him shaking beneath you. “I’m sorry I’m so fucking sorry. He made me. M-made me choose, your memories or mine and—“ he choked up as hand came to rest on the back of your head, holding you closer to him “—I didn’t want you to live a moment in any reality thinking I didn’t love you.”

“It’s okay, Matty, it’s okay” you murmured against him, clinging to him, to the moment.

“None of this is okay” he said back.

“It’s ok now” you reassured him.

He made to pull back but you squeezed him tighter, afraid.

“I don’t want to forget” you mumbled into his neck.

“You’re not going to” he said through a laugh, the first time the sound had left his lips in months.

“Let me guess” you sniffed against him, fighting the knowing smile on your lips, “because you’re unforgettable” you grumbled at his cocky humor.

“Well, yeah” he said, laughing genuinely now, even as you pinched him.

“But more importantly—” he said as he took a step forward to lay you down on his bed so he could look at you, could finally see the sparkle of recognition in your eyes that he had been craving. You were looking back at him like you were committing his every feature to memory, your stomach flipping at how beautiful he was, at how you could ever forget it, tracing the scar at his eyebrow, his flushed cheeks, his lips and noting the twinkle in his eyes.

“—You’re not going to forget because the most powerful wizard alive already tried to make you, and it didn’t fucking work.”

You smiled at him, resolutely. “I could never forget you.”

“That’s right, baby” he said as he leaned down to brush his lips against yours, lingering for just a moment, savoring it like it was the first time all over again.

taglist: @dustie-faerie, @urfavfrenchgrl, @darlingshecried, @thegoddessofnothingness, @kenjikishimotoswifey, @mattiesgf @sleepiibunniiii @girllblogging777 @foivetimesacharm @clar2aa @broadwaybaby123 @slytherinscreamqueen @sectumsempraaa

[half-oz-eddie]

I didn’t know I wanted you (Until I couldn’t have you)

Part 2/5

“…He’s always talking down to me and treating me like a child.” Buck huffed as they slowly followed the hiking trail to a platform above a waterfall.

Buck let out a wistful sigh, releasing all his pent up stress as he enjoyed the view. “Hey, Tommy.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you know this waterfall is a 30 foot drop? They say it’s the most beautiful during rainfall.”

“Oh yeah?” Tommy smiled, leaning against the platform railing and looking down.

“Yeah a-and in the 1850s, miners created the canal to wash gold from the earth. This park actually has connections to—“

“The gold rush, yeah.” Tommy nodded. “Have you ever been here before?”

“No, but..it was on my bucket list.” Buck ducked his head with a bashful chuckle. “Thanks for uh…flying me out here.”

“Sure. You seemed like you needed to get away from all the noise and get out of your head a bit.”

“Yeah…” Buck sighed. “Sorry for kinda—bringing that here with me. I’m just really frustrated.”

“I get it. Working under a guy like Gerrard can be pretty taxing. I lost myself in so many hobbies trying to forget about the work day, and I didn’t really have any family to turn to so it was better than keeping it all bottled up.”

“Or punching someone.” Buck replied with a laugh.

Tommy joined the laughter, nodding in agreement. “Yeah. Or that.” Tommy briefly paused. “And besides, I did fly Eddie to Vegas, and you seemed like you felt a little left out—“

“Yeah” Buck admitted with a smile “a little. A-and this is a bit of a further distance than Vegas. Ah—n-not that this is a competition or anything.”

Tommy shot Buck a charming smirk that made Buck’s heart swell with the feeling he desperately tried to ignore. “Right. Not a competition.”

In an attempt to redirect the conversation and his own feelings, Buck suggested heading to the picnic area.

“These chicken wraps are amazing.” Tommy complimented with his mouth full.

“Thanks I, uh, I learned to cook from Bobby.”

“Mm.” Tommy hummed, continuing to eat to his heart’s content.

“We should do this again sometime—oh, look, there’re some sheep over there!”

“Yeah they’re here for vegetation management. Pretty cool, right?”

“Very cool.”

“And, yes, Evan. I’d love to come here more often with you. Maybe we can do this every time our schedules align?”

“That’d be great!” Buck smiled widely, that nagging feeling returning once again.

Tommy’s so cool.

When Buck got home, he laid out on his bed, sighing dreamily as he reminisced about the day he had.

The waterfall was amazing—Tommy’s so cool—Those sheep were so cute! We even saw a horse—The way Tommy knew the entire trail like the back of his hand was really impressive—The park was so quiet and calming—Tommy’s such a great person.

Eventually, the thoughts of Tommy won him over, and Buck just couldn’t stop thinking about Tommy. The best, coolest, most amazing guy he’d ever met.

No, that would sound a little too weird right? I don’t mean it in a weird way? How do I even mean it?

I like hanging out with Tommy. I like Tommy. He’s cool. So cool. The coolest.

And I don't wanna weird him out.

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎

╰┈➤ ❝ luke x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni | kinktober '24 (backlog)

tags : pwp (without plot), cuddle fucking, grinding, morning sex, vaginal sex, slight tickling, teasing, clit play, a liiittle bit of feelings addressed but it's mostly ambiguous, praise, mostly really just soft giggly sex, use of pet names "baby" "pretty girl" "pretty baby". lmk if i missed any tags!

wc : 1.5k

an : I ACTUALLY DID MAKE IT TO TWO FICS TODAY and it's like. i know that it's About Time that i've finally written a solo fic for luke (sorry baby i know i've been neglecting you a lil 😭).... and this actually kind of made me love him extra :(

taglist : under the cut !! (SIGN UP HERE)

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST / KO-FI JAR / COMMISSIONS

Morning-afters with him aren't so bad.

"Mmm… Morning, baby~"

Arms snaked over your side, your back pressed firmly against his chest as he pulled you in closer. His breath was hot against your skin, head resting lazily into the crook of your neck. And though his voice was still rough, very obviously still fighting off the remnants of his sleepiness, he seemed to have enough energy to give you a squeeze.

It did well to wake you up.

With a quiet laugh, you tilted your head. "G'morning, Luke." Your eyes closed as you nuzzled against his nose, feeling his own quiet chuckle tickling against your lips. "Sleep well?" you murmured.

"Mm."

His only reply.

It was almost odd to have him so quiet; now and again he'd be chattering along and filling your ears with only his voice. There was rarely ever a minute you'd go without hearing it; you'd become used to it by now.

Yet this time, he could only pepper your face with little kisses, almost as if still trying to process the fact that you were, in fact, right here in his arms.

"I'm real, you know," you rolled your eyes playfully. "What's gotten into you?"

"Mmh, c'monnnn. What, I can't kiss the pretty girl in my arms?"

Butterfly kisses continued, light and fluttering as they would be. Over your eyes, your nose, your cheek, your chin, your lips—they barely lasted a second before they moved elsewhere, and your quiet laughs soon turned into a little fit of giggles.

"Hey! Not when it tickles!"

You'd both opened your eyes to lock onto each other's, and somehow, immediately you felt yourself regretting that statement.

"Ooh, it tickles?"

He was smirking.

"…Nope! Not at all! I don't know what you're—"

He cut you off this time by brushing his fingers over the bare skin of your stomach, and you squeaked.

The smirk on his face had since grown into a satisfied grin.

"Luukeee!" you whined, to no avail—

"Nuh-uh! No take-backsies!"

Another squeal fell from your lips as his hands roamed your body, poking at your sides and purely enjoying the way you erupted in laughter. "Luke!" you cried out, thrashing in his arms. "Hey! Hey, sto—ahahahaha! Stop it!! You goon, you—!"

He had the audacity to shut you up with a kiss, sacrificing the tickling in favor of tilting your head back to lock his lips with yours. And, ironically enough—in a manner so typical of Luke—it felt as if such tender kisses were a stark contrast from what he'd just been doing.

When he pulled back, he snuggled into the crook of your neck, and you panted for air.

"Idiot…" you huffed.

"Aww, you love it!" He laughed into your skin, drawing you as close to him as possible. There was a beat; a pause, and then he spoke again. "Mmh, hey, baby… Confession?"

You felt your eyebrows shoot up. It wasn't necessarily that his tone had turned serious, but moments like these were quite rare from him.

"What's there to confess?" you reached over to lace your hands together.

Another quiet laugh.

"Ah, well… Kinda maybe had a dream of you…"

A smile poked at your lips.

"Of me?"

"Mhm, of us."

This time, his hand moved to your hip as he pulled you flush against him, grinding into you just enough to slip between your thighs. "…Of last night."

You could tell that he was sincere, if his hard length rubbing against your thighs wasn't enough proof for you. He was warm, and throbbing—you couldn't help but turn to flash him a grin, tapping the tip of his nose. "Awww, Luke. You missed me in your sleep?"

He huffed.

"Pretty girl, after last night? Ha, I think I'd miss you all the time."

Whether it was to pay back the tease in your voice or as a means to get you just as riled up as he was, you felt his fingers trail down to circle around your clit, and your laughter easily turned into another squeal.

With your hips jolting at the contact, you lightly smack on his arm. "Luke!"

"Whaaatt?"

It was his turn to grin, and you felt it in the way he kissed you. Still light, still tender—but the corners of his lips lifted up, and you nearly gasped into him as he finally grazed over your silky wet cunt. Soft, gentle strokes worked to gather up your wetness, easily turning you into a sticky mess for him.

He was so good at making you need him.

Your hips bucked into his hand, thighs sliding over his length to give him equal stimulation. He groaned into the kiss—you affected him just as much as he did you—but it was obvious that he was still fighting down a laugh.

A laugh.

"Acting like you're all that, but look at you being so needy f'me~" he taunted. His petting through your folds continued, free hand raking up your sides again to tickle you—because for him having started this by being the needy one, he was certainly having his fun playing.

Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head when he played with your clit, laughter tinged with delirium. His fingers slid the moisture up to your bud, tracing tiny circles around the bead that had you fisting your hands into the covers, and taking tiny, gasping breaths.

"Hnng—Luke, baby, come on—" you moan helplessly beneath his touch, trying to find the balance between the giggles that tried to surface, and the sounds of pleasure you couldn't stop. "Ugh, it's your fault! When you touch me this good, what else do you think would happen?!"

"Hmm? I dunnooo, but I was counting on this for sure…"

He laughed at your expense—as he often did—before leaning in to kiss lightly at your jaw. "C'mon, baby. You're pretty... So so pretty. Help me out? Pleaseeee?"

His words of resignation did not match the snicker that fell out as the tip of his finger dipped teasingly into your hole… before pulling out.

"Luke!"

"Whaatt~? What do you want me to do, then?"

Another light smack at his arm, and his shoulders shook from laughter as he brought his hand away from you and up to his lips. Quick licks brought the taste of you on his tongue, and he let out a satisfied smile. "Mmm, the best ever."

You rolled your eyes.

"Luke. If you don't fuck me right this seco—"

Your body jolted.

Strategically, or not quite strategically, he'd thrust himself from between your legs and grazed the tip at your clit.

A groan resounded in your ear as he repeated the motions, getting your wetness to coat his dick, leaning down to take in the scent of your skin. "M'gonna, just, wait a sec…"

Despite yourself, you laughed, pushing against him. Your breathing shallowed as the pleasure only worked to make you wetter, but the ridiculousness of this situation meant you couldn't help it. And laughter would be as contagious as it ever was—despite his movements not particularly stopping, you felt him start laughing with you.

"You, pffft— You wanted to get me in the mood, and now you're telling me to wait?! Be so for real, Luke."

"Wh—as if it's entirely my fault! Pretty baby, I could be between your legs for hours—"

"Shut! C'mon, just put it in!"

You almost had half a mind to straddle him yourself and take matters into your own hands, but in the state you were in—shaking with laughter, almost numb from shortness of breath—there was no way you could overpower him enough to do so.

Thankfully, with a roll of his eyes, he reached down to position himself properly before he finally thrust inside of you.

Immediately your giggles shifted into a moan, and you gasped when his hand moved up to toy with your breasts.

"There we go… attagirl…" he mumbled, already panting as much as you were.

Yet he stayed soft, and slow.

Unlike last night, his thrusts this time were a little lazy; rhythmic in a way that was almost relaxing to you.

As the laughter died down, you leaned back into his chest, tilting your head back so you could see him.

He smiled.

"Sheesh… you're so fucking pretty."

"Mhm? Your pretty girl?" you grinned, and he moaned, thrusting particularly deep to have you gasp in return.

"Hell yeah. My pretty baby."

And then his lips were on yours, hips still gently fucking into you, fingers intertwined as he insisted to feel connected to you as much as he possibly could.

He was so silly, Luke. A menace, whether you liked it or not (though you did). But when it came to things like this… he was always the sweetest, most loving person that you've ever seen.

Praises whispered against your lips as he refused to part, and you thought to yourself… If you could wake up next to him like this every day, things really wouldn't be too bad at all.

"Mm… You just got so tight around me, baby. Relax, what're you thinking?"

You huffed in response. "Not of your concern."

"No?"

"No."

"But you feel so good, pretty girl… Is that it? Do you like that?" He grinned in your ear as he angled his hips, thrusting up to graze against your g-spot.

"Fuck—"

"Yeah, exactly what I'm trying to do here."

"Luke!"

You hit his arm for the nth time that morning, but you didn't stop the smile from forming on your face.

Yep. Not bad at all.

taglist! @interstellar-inn @pixelcafe-network @hunters-association @ononpetitecroissant @darlingdummycassandra @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valyvinny @rafayelsheart @jellyroom2 @chemiru @ywnzn @love-and-deepstrays @theanbitchless @m2ichaelis @keioxo

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[maybe-im-dark]

Instinct

Based on this post

The night was thick and dark, a heavy silence blanketing the forest as Logan and Wade moved through the underbrush. Shadows stretched out from towering pines, and the faint glow of moonlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting everything in an eerie silver. Wade kept close behind Logan, who was leading the way with calm, measured steps.

They’d been out there for hours, following a faint trail left by their target. Wade, usually the one cracking jokes and keeping the mood light, found himself silent as he watched Logan maneuver through the darkness like he’d been born to it. Wade knew Logan had spent years outdoors, but he hadn’t fully realized what that meant until now.

“Alright, peanut,” Wade whispered, finally breaking the silence as he stepped over a fallen branch. “How exactly are you figuring out where we’re going? It’s pitch black out here.”

Logan didn’t even glance back as he answered, “Using the stars and the magnetic fields of the earth, Wade.”

Wade chuckled. “Haha, very funny, but seriously, how’re we finding this place? Are we even close?”

Logan stopped, finally turning to give Wade a deadpan look. “How do you think I managed to survive in the Canadian wilderness all these years?”

Wade stared at him, waiting for the punchline, but Logan’s expression remained steady, unbothered. “Wait… you’re serious?”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You really think I need a map to get around out here? I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you might think.”

Wade’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Logan, trying to piece together the full extent of what he was capable of. “Okay, so you can track people down in the middle of a forest…without a map. That’s…actually kinda hot, but let’s stay focused.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but there was the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Good to know where your priorities are.”

As they continued, Wade couldn’t help but be impressed. Logan moved almost silently, his every step calculated, barely a rustle in the leaves underfoot. He’d stop every so often, glancing up at the sky or feeling the air as if he could actually sense something out there. Wade was used to operating with gadgets, intel, and often sheer dumb luck. Logan, on the other hand, was using something primal, something honed from years of raw survival.

“Alright, sensei, teach me your ways,” Wade muttered, trying to match Logan’s stealth.

Logan glanced over his shoulder, amusement flickering in his gaze. “First lesson, don’t be loud.”

“Right, right. Got it.” Wade nodded, attempting to mirror Logan’s silent footsteps but failing miserably.

Twigs snapped beneath his feet, and he stumbled over a hidden root, only for Logan to catch his arm, steadying him without a word.

Wade looked down, a bit sheepish. “Alright, peanut, guess I’ve got some work to do.”

“Keep up and maybe you’ll learn a thing or two.” Logan shot him a quick smirk before pressing on, his gaze trained on the stars and the faint light peeking through the trees.

Wade watched him, caught somewhere between admiration and curiosity.

“How do you know all this?” Wade whispered. “I mean, the stars, the earth’s magnetic fields…I thought that was, like, folklore.”

“It’s not folklore,” Logan replied, pausing to adjust their course. “It’s instinct. And years of having to rely on something more than technology. You spend enough time out here, you learn to listen to things that most people ignore.”

Wade watched him, a newfound respect growing. He’d known Logan was capable, but this…this was something beyond skill or training. It was primal, something Wade didn’t quite understand but could only marvel at.

They reached a small clearing, and Logan stopped, signaling for Wade to crouch down beside him. Logan scanned the area, his senses heightened, and Wade held his breath, trying to feel the same tension in the air.

“There,” Logan muttered, nodding toward the faint glow of a campfire barely visible through the trees.

Wade peered out, squinting to see it.

“How did you…?” Wade started, shaking his head. “I’ve gotta hand it to you, Logie, you’re full of surprises.”

Logan’s gaze softened just a bit, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. “Guess you don’t know everything about me yet.”

Wade chuckled quietly. “Well, keep it up, and you might just make me fall for you all over again.”

Logan shook his head, suppressing a smirk. “Let’s finish the mission first, Wade.”

But as they prepared to move forward, Wade couldn’t help but feel grateful for this quiet, intense side of Logan—the man who could lead him through a pitch-black forest using nothing but instinct and the stars. And for once, he didn’t feel the need to joke or break the silence. Just this once, he let himself follow Logan’s lead, trusting him completely.

[danni3l]

Ford Pines — Gunplay

(nsfw drabble, minors dni!!!)

Ford Pines x GN!Reader

Summary: You’re a freaky, like REAL freaky one and it just so happens that Ford carries a gun around all the damn time… and you just can’t help yourself.

— 💜

You had to beg Ford to try anything new in bed.

You were a little too freaky for your own good, you always knew that. You’d been high off your ass a couple of times when having sex and you barely remembered what happened the morning after, only having marks and mysterious fluids on your body as evidence of your adventures. Now you were a little more settled, being that you were in a stable relationship with Stanford, but that risky side of you wasn’t gone, obviously. You had noticed how Ford was pretty vanilla, very gentle and loving when it came to sex, and to anything in general really. You wouldn’t have it any other way, but there was still that something… some spark you were missing. And apparently, your partner was a gun kinda guy, he had many types of cool alien guns he’d brought from the years he’d spent hopping dimensions, as he’d told you, and some others he’d modified himself. The fantasy of Ford defending you by aiming his gun at any threat already had you dripping, your dirtiest side taking over some nights when you just had to touch yourself at the thought.

Eventually, you resolved to try and ask him if he’d be willing to do some gunplay in the bedroom, because god damn did you need it badly. It was a hard task, a lot of kissing and begging involved before Ford finally gave in to your request.

“Please, my love…” you made your best pleading voice as you sucked a sensual kiss to Ford’s neck, rutting your hips down on his lap to try and work him up. But of course, such an unusual ask had left him a little shocked.

“S-Stardust, I-“ his breath hitched with another kiss you left, this one turning to a hickey as you nipped at the skin of his neck. But Ford’s hands found your hips, stopping your motion so he could actually concentrate. You pulled your face away from his neck with your brows slightly furrowed and your best pleading, needy eyes. Fuck, weren’t you a sight for sore eyes.

“That’s too dangerous, my love…” Ford’s eyes trailed over your face, as if silently asking what was wrong with you for you to want such a thing. But his hand was gentle and soft when he cupped your face on it, his gaze with a flicker of worry. “I wouldn’t bear the pain of hurting you in the slightest…” was all he could manage to try and discourage you.

But you turned your face to kiss his palm, your lips lingering there for a millisecond longer than needed, and you slowly fluttered your eyes open after that gentle peck. “Please…” you begged with a whisper, then one of your hands gently held Ford’s in place as your lips trailed down his wrist, slowly and teasingly. Along the way, you muttered some more pleads, whimsical and needy. Then your lips moved back to his hand, his fingers more specifically, and you kissed each one of them, gently sucking at the tips. Each time you’d finish kissing one of them, you’d look right into Ford’s eyes and whimper a “please” again. When you got to his sixth finger, your lips lingered a little longer, this time sucking the finger as if it were his cock. He knew that feeling all too well, how you’d do exactly the things you knew would drive him crazy. But you staring right into his eyes while absolutely worshipping him to try and get him to fulfill your sick fantasy, that was what did it.

Ford let out a defeated groan, rolling his desk chair closer to a drawer that seemed to be locked. It wasn’t unusual for him to have dangerous things locked down at the basement anyway, it was his lab and he experimented with anything he found, so many dangerous chemicals and objects could be found down there. But he turned the key and opened the drawer only to reveal a handgun that had a futuristic look, most likely a product of alien technology you had little to no knowledge of. Your eyes widened slightly with expectation and a bit of surprise because, apparently Ford gave in, just like that.

“On your knees. Now.” Ford’s voice was different when he said this, darker, and his eyes had a lustful edge to them as well. You could only answer with a grateful whimper and immediately got off his lap and on your knees in front of him, expectant to anything he’d tell you to do. You weren’t only down bad, but also absolutely infatuated with this man, and the need you felt only made you more submissive to Stanford. You didn’t know what to expect, you weren’t expecting anything in specific when he actually accepted. But it took you off guard when he put the gun at level with his hips, right in front of where his cock strained his slacks, pointed at you. He must’ve noticed when you licked your lips, because he gave a nod and commanded firmly again. “Go on. Suck.”

Your eyes looked up at him, at how he seemed to both want this and absolutely despise it at the same time. Stanford adored you, his one and only and the love of his life, but when you begged to be submitted and threatened so eagerly… if there was something harder than to keep you away from harm and keep you safe, it was to resist you. He watched intently as you gingerly kitten-licked the muzzle, a little moan escaping you as you felt the cold, odd-tasting metal. If one lick got you so worked up, Ford couldn’t wait to see what you would look like with the whole barrel in your mouth. You slowly started to take more and more deeper into your mouth, lips slightly trembling along the cold surface and making you gag with your own saliva. Because yes, you are salivating more than usual; a result of the arousal, excitement, and nervousness of encountering yourself sucking on a gun that you have no idea if it’s loaded or not. You trust your lover, of course you do, and he would never even dare hurting you. But the gun still makes you shake and tears prick at your eyes, the thrill is too good to stop, the slight fear only heightens your arousal. Before you know it, you’re drooling all over the gun, sloppily taking what you can, whimpering at the sensation. Ford’s breath had already become more labored, just the show you were putting on was enough to make him painfully hard. You only noticed when he abruptly pulled the gun away from you, a trail of saliva still connecting your tongue with the muzzle, and you looked up at Ford’s flushed face. Only then you noticed his hands were quite literally shaking, either with anticipation, need, or fear of accidentally hurting you. When you caught your breath a bit more, you slowly started to move your hands up to his belt to undo it. He didn’t stop you, and that meant he wanted this, just couldn’t even register why, so he couldn’t ask for it properly. Your dear love, although much older and presumably wiser than you, was already and overstimulated mess in your hands, and the least you could do for him right now was taking his painfully hard cock in your hand, pumping it a few times, and then gently wrapping your lips at the tip.

It was a gentle gesture, yet enough to make Stanford shudder and let your name out of his mouth with a choked gasp. His free hand found its way to your hair, shakily stroking. But your gaze wandered towards his right hand which still held the gun. You reached for it, carefully not to startle Ford, and brought it closer to your face. The only thing Ford could do was stare, and later whimper when your lips left the tip of his cock to suck on the gun’s muzzle again, your hand still attending to Ford’s needs. Then you did the opposite, moving your mouth back to Ford’s aching cock while you stroked the gun. You were a vision, way too erotic for him to hold on any longer. You could see it in the grimace of pleasure and also shame that was plastered on Ford’s face, he was so painfully close and you could feel his cock throbbing in your hand. With your flushed face and reddened lips from sucking, you looked up at Ford, your glazed eyes could’ve made him faint right then and there.

“Please… cum on my mouth… wanna taste you, baby…” you breathlessly pleaded, still erotically and eagerly stroking both his dick and his gun, alternating with your mouth on either. Your plead wasn’t unheard, it was about a minute or two before Ford’s muscles stiffened and relaxed again a few times, his hot cum spilling on your tongue and a little bit spilling out from your mouth, making the edges of it dirty. So messy, but you always enjoyed to be messy and Ford was clear on that. He couldn’t help staring, even if he’d already cum, the way you eagerly cleaned him up with your tongue was impossible to ignore.

After you tucked him back into his boxers, you nuzzled closer to the warm bulge, leaving light affectionate kisses on him, as if it didn’t affect him nearly as much as it actually did. Then your gaze turned to the gun, and your curiosity made you ask.

“Is it actually loaded?” You nodded towards the gun so Ford knew what you referred to, the aftershocks of his orgasm still blurred his mind.

“Always is.” Ford breathed, and you felt another shock of arousal go straight to the lower half of your body at the knowledge that you just lived through the real deal, and it was hot as fuck.

[your-unfriendlyghost]

Does Bryon have a role in the Dallas mark and Tex (and Mason) au? The end of TWTTIN always made me so sad knowing that mark didn’t see Bryon as a brother anymore

Bryon could have a role actually, valid point. Idk, I liked Bryon. Not like. A lot. But I liked him alright, and related to him in a few ways that make me slightly uncomfortable tbh, and I feel so bad for him-

I think for this AU, we’ll say Mark still talks to Ponyboy, and separately, Bryon talks to Ponyboy too. Not on purpose, initially, because he’s not the world’s biggest Ponyboy fan- but after Mark runs away to Dally’s place, Bryon’s hit with all the feelings he had in the end of TWTTIN. Only this time, Mark’s not in jail. In fact, Bryon’s pretty sure that that Curtis kid knows where Mark’s hiding- after all, he’s in the same gang as that washed-up hood Dallas Winston who’s always up to something. So Bryon seeks Ponyboy out for info. But then it just turns into like. Talking about his feelings about…everything. He’s kept it bottled up for so long that the second Pony prods him, Bryon just sorta spills.

(Design notes- Bryon’s hair’s grown out cos he’s depressed and not really taking care of himself all that well. Sixteen-year-old Pony’s hair, on the other hand, is long cos all the refs I could find of very slightly older C. Thomas Howell had 80s mullets. And yk what that’s kinda funny so I went with it- let’s just say it’s because after Johnny’s horrible haircut in Windrixville Ponyboy can’t risk letting it get cut so short ever again)

(More au rambling below the cut lol)

So now, essentially Ponyboy’s stuck between his buddy Mark, who complains about Bryon constantly, and Bryon, who is Pony’s girlfriend’s ex, and Pony’s friend’s…ex-brother? And both Bryon and Mark kinda talk to each other through Ponyboy, who’s like an unwilling messenger now. Or like the child of divorced parents, trying his damndest to keep the two from hating each other too much. (Mainly just Mark- Bryon just feels guilty)

If I were to make this au a multi chapter fic, I’d give Mark a running gag of coming up with Dr. Doofenshmirtz-style revenge plans against Bryon and trying to rope Ponyboy, Tex, Mason, and occasionally even Cathy and Angela Shepard into them.

I think Dally would be a Bryon hater cos Dally’s one big moral code is loyalty- honor among thieves, yk- and Bryon betrayed Mark. But Pony and Johnny would sympathize with the guy. Also low key I think Johnny would be a Mark hater

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for S behind the cut; "from Andromeda to your eye". tw: internalized dehumanization; dehumanizing it/its pronouns. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

It wants to be saved, like it thinks it’s something worth that. It wants to be–it wants–it wants Superboy’s arms around it and Superboy’s lies in its ears and to never, ever have to go back to the Agenda, even though it knows there’s no way it’s really escaped the Agenda. Not for good. Not for real. 

The Agenda made it, and it isn’t something anyone would actually save. No one’s ever saved anything the Agenda made. 

It knows Superboy tried to, though.

But it still never should’ve come here. Never should’ve done this. Never should’ve come to Superboy like–like it really thought–like it really thinks– 

“C’mon, just–come with me, okay?” Superboy says, his voice all tight and twisted up.  It–understands that. Understands that Superboy needs to take it somewhere else. Somewhere with fewer staff around, where it can be secured until either Cadmus decides what to do with it or the Agenda comes and gets it. 

“I’m sorry,” it chokes again. The first thing it ever said was a lie to the security at the door; the first thing it ever really said was an apology to someone it never should’ve gone to. 

That apology’s still the only thing it’s ever really said. 

“It’s–fine,” Superboy says, his voice stiff. “I get it. It’s fine. Just–c’mon.” 

It nods, weak and useless, and Superboy stands up and pulls it up with him, and it tries to stop crying, and he wipes the tears off its face with the heel of his glove and it just cries harder, because why would he even bother to do that, why would he even care to, that’s–that’s– 

He should’ve thrown it out. Should’ve attacked it. Should–should just– 

He’ll lock it up. He’ll take it to a holding cell and lock it up and–and he won’t leave it there for good, it knows, not if . . . not if he can help it, anyway, but . . . 

But maybe he won’t be able to help it. 

It cries some more, and Superboy wipes the tears away from the underneath of its eyes with his thumbs. No one’s ever done that before. It’s never cried before either, but–still. No one’s ever touched its face or hugged it or lied to it over things no one else would ever even care to. 

No one’s ever done a lot of things, because the clone’s only existed for a few days, but those are things it wouldn’t have thought anyone ever would. 

“What do you want me to call you?” Superboy asks as he cups its face with one hand and its shoulder with the other. It sniffles, messy and ugly, and scrubs its own glove across its eyes. Of course he asked that, it thinks. Of course he asked that like that, it thinks. Not what’s your project designation? or what’s your name?; just what do you want?

Of course he asked like that. 

“‘Babe’,” it says, because that’s not what he calls Wonder Girl, and it’s much, much better than the idea of ever hearing its subject number in his voice. 

“Movin’ kinda fast there, babe,” Superboy replies with a crooked little grin, and it almost cries again. It thinks he’s–teasing it, maybe. Making a joke. Because he thinks it’s the kind of thing that could actually laugh or find something funny or . . . 

“Sorry,” it says, scrubbing uselessly at its face. “Sorry, just–not my subject number. Not–not that. Please.” 

“Hey, far be it from me to turn down a pretty girl asking me to call her ‘babe’, you’re not walkin’ that one back on me,” Superboy mock-scoffs, flashing it a wider grin and–and– 

And Superboy sees a girl when he looks at it. He sees a girl, and a “her”, and . . . and something to comfort. Someone to . . . 

He sees a person, when he looks at it. 

It–it knew he would. It knew that. 

But he does. 

She buries her face in her hands and starts bawling, and Superboy just wraps her up in his arms again like he’s not bothered by that at all and grips her tight, making rough little hushing sounds–or maybe rough little soothing sounds–against her hair. 

She still doesn’t know how to stop crying. 

The Agenda never thought she would, so why would they have taught her how to stop?

[mechaknight-98]

Double D Dungeon Crawl (NSFW) FT Eunbi, Sejeong, Mina Kang, Somi

Operator’s Notes: I had a lot of ground to cover and tried to do capatilize as much as possible.

Disclaimer: I know none of these girls have double Ds

"Awe fuck Somi your tits are spectacular as always," Ivan says as his girlfriend casually strokes his cock with her tits.

"Are you close?" Somi asks with bright eyes hoping to get him to explode more than ever. However, their little tryst was interrupted when Ivan's alarm went off for DND.

“Oh shit, Somi, stop. I need to focus,” Ivan said, laughing as he lightly pushed her off, trying to keep his composure.

Somi pouted dramatically. “Focus? On what? Am I not enough of a distraction for you?” As she spoke she seductively juggled her tits hoping to entice Ivan to stay.

Ivan grinned, eyes still on his girlfriend. “Babe, it's Dungeons and Dragons night. Do you want to come? You’ll round out the party.”

Somi crossed her arms, tilting her head with mock suspicion. “Wait, who’s going?”

Ivan blinked, recollecting. “Uh… it’s Diovaldo, Flint, Mina, Eunbi, and me.”

“Eunbi? Who’s that?” Somi asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Oh, that’s Diovaldo’s girlfriend,” Ivan said casually. “She’s… interesting.”

“Interesting how?” Somi leaned closer, eyes narrowing playfully.

Ivan chuckled. “Well, Diovaldo met her at this screening for the new season of Ultraman, right? They stayed up ‘til like 4 a.m. talking about all things tokusatsu—like the whole deep dive into its impact on anime and… their lives.”

Somi raised an eyebrow, picturing a total nerd duo. “Oh, so she’s a nerd too, huh? She’s probably super frumpy and wears those huge anime shirts.”

“Actually, no,” Ivan said, shaking his head, a smirk playing on his lips. “She’s kinda… hot.”

Somi’s eyebrows shot up, not believing him for a second. “Hot? Really? Prove it.”

Ivan shrugged, pulling out his phone and scrolling for a photo. He handed it to her, and she blinked at the image of Diovaldo standing with a curvy, stylish woman.

“Oh shit, good for him!” Somi said, genuinely impressed. “I was expecting glasses and an Evangelion hoodie, but damn.”

Ivan laughed. “Yeah, right? Diovaldo kinda hit the jackpot.”

Somi handed his phone back with a smirk. “So what you’re telling me is, nerds are pulling hot people now. Is that your subtle way of telling me I’m too good for you?”

Ivan grinned, wrapping his arm around her waist. “Nah, it’s more like I’m Diovaldo in this situation.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And I’m Hyewo?”

“Obviously. You’re way out of my league, but somehow here you are,” he said, pulling her closer.

“Hmm, nice save.” Somi leaned into him. “Okay, fine, I’ll go. But you’re gonna have to do all the math for me, because that’s not happening.”

Ivan kissed her cheek. “Of course, babe. I got you.”

“Good. Now, when we win, I’m taking all the credit.”

Ivan chuckled, but then his face shifted as he realized something. “Oh crap, I gotta tell the group you’re coming.” He grabbed his phone and quickly started typing a message. “Sejeong and her boyfriend are gonna want to tweak the setup now.”

Somi rolled her eyes playfully. “You make it sound like they’re running a whole operation.”

Ivan grinned. “They are. You know how serious they get about this stuff.”

Somi nodded knowingly. “True, they’re like the eldest siblings of the group. Always organizing everything.”

A few moments later, Sejeong’s phone buzzed. She picked it up and smiled when she saw Ivan’s text about Somi joining the game. “Oh, this is gonna be fun,” she said to herself before turning to her boyfriend, who was focused on something at the other end of the couch.

“Hey, babe,” she called over. “Can you help me with making another player character?”

He looked up, intrigued. “Who’s it for?”

“Somi.”

A grin spread across his face. “Nice. That’ll shake things up.” He thought for a second, then narrowed his brow as he began mentally drafting character ideas. “How about… three levels in Bard and three levels in Sorcerer? That way we’ve got a solid caster, and she can throw in some chaotic fun. We’ll still have enough balance with the fighters.”

Sejeong’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, I like that! College of Eloquence for her Bard side and Wild Magic for Sorcerer. It’s totally her vibe.”

“Definitely,” he agreed, already imagining the wild, charismatic chaos Somi would bring to the table.

As they started refining the character, they began chatting about their friends, as they often did when planning game sessions. It was their way of making sure everyone had a good time. Sejeong had a knack for knowing just the right balance between engaging stories and letting her friends express their personalities through their characters. While her boyfriend excelled at gameplay and mechanical design.

“Diovaldo and Flint are gonna love this,” Sejeong said, scrolling through the character stats on her tablet. “You know how they love when things get crazy.”

“Especially Flint. He thrives on unpredictability,” her boyfriend added, tweaking some numbers. “Mina’s gonna roll her eyes, though. She’s all about the strategy.”

“True,” Sejeong laughed. “But that’s why she and Eunbi will probably end up teaming up—perfect balance. Mina’s tactical, Eunbi all about the story.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, plus, Diovaldo’s probably gonna get distracted with Eunbi half the time anyway. They’re still in that honeymoon phase.”

Sejeong smiled warmly. “It’s cute, though. Let them have their fun.”

They both exchanged a glance, the kind of shared understanding that came from years of knowing their friends’ quirks. Sejeong and her boyfriend had always been the steady presence in the group, the ones everyone could rely on. Whether it was organizing game nights, offering advice, or helping to smooth over conflicts, they were the glue holding everyone together. And for this D&D session, it was no different.

With Somi joining, they knew it was going to be a more chaotic—but fun—night, and they were ready to embrace it.

“Okay,” Sejeong said, standing up and stretching. “Let’s send this to Ivan. Somi’s about to have a blast.”

Sejeong’s boyfriend nodded then said, “Oh we gotta tell everyone Somi is coming. I'll send the info to Flint and you can send it to Diovaldo," Sejeong nodded and watched him reach out to Flint and Mina.

A few seconds before they got the call, Mina and Flint were enjoying a quiet evening together. The warm glow from the kitchen light gave the room a soft, comfortable ambiance. Flint had just finished cooking a steak dinner, and the smell of garlic butter and rosemary filled the air.

Mina took a bite, savoring the flavors, then smiled contentedly. “This is really nice, babe,” she said, her voice full of appreciation.

Flint grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Glad you like it. Worked pretty hard on that steak, you know.”

“I can tell. It’s perfect,” Mina replied, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand.

Flint rubbed the back of his neck, his expression softening. “Well, it’s the least I can do after making you deal with Dio and Genta all the time.”

Mina raised an eyebrow, giving him a teasing look. “What do you mean by that? I love Diovaldo and Eunbi.”

“I know, I know,” Flint said with a chuckle. “It’s just… they can be a bit much sometimes. And it doesn’t help that Sejeong and Nicky egg them on. Dio’s got this chip on his shoulder the size of a whole Pringles can, and they just… they encourage him to do crazier and crazier stuff to prove himself.”

Mina leaned back, taking another bite before responding. “Let them have their fun. Besides, that chip on Dio’s shoulder has done a lot for us. He’s helped get us out of some tight spots these last two years.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Flint asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

Mina gave him a knowing smile. “Like when you got detained by the police, and Diovaldo showed up with all the paperwork and got you out within an hour.”

Flint scratched his head, chuckling sheepishly. “Oh, right. I guess he’s not all that bad, then. But you gotta admit, the guy’s always desperate for a win. Any challenge that comes his way, he’s gotta take it. And now with Genta egging him on, it’s like they’re in some competition 24/7.”

Mina shrugged, her tone soft and understanding. “But that’s why they work so well together, don’t you think? They believe in each other so much, they think they can do anything. And look at them—they’ve made it happen. He pushes her, and she pushes him. He helped her win with her acting, and she helped him land that great job.”

Flint let out a sigh, leaning his head back against the chair. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I just wish they could turn it off sometimes, you know? Not everything’s a game to be won.”

Mina smiled fondly. “True, but then they wouldn’t be the Dio and Genta we love.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the soft clink of cutlery the only sound between them as they enjoyed their dinner. The evening felt peaceful, warm—a quiet moment that reminded them why they worked so well as a couple. Flint’s thoughtfulness, Mina’s easygoing nature—it all blended perfectly, creating a relaxed space where they could just be themselves.

As they were finishing up, Mina’s phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at it and squealed, her face lighting up with excitement.

Flint glanced up, amused by her reaction. “What is it, babe?”

Mina grinned, looking up from her phone. “Somi’s joining us for D&D tonight!”

“Oh, word? That’s great,” Flint said, leaning back with a smile. “It’ll be like a mini I.O.I reunion.”

“Yessir,” Mina said, still buzzing with excitement. “This is gonna be fun.”

Flint chuckled, seeing how happy she was. He loved these moments—just the two of them, enjoying a quiet evening, sharing excitement about something as simple as a game. It was in these little moments that he felt most connected to her.

Moving back to Sejeong and Nicky they are getting ready with the last few touches to Somi's character sheet, when they remembered they forgot to tell Diovaldo and Genta. Nicky makes the call.

The sound of rapid button-mashing filled the room as Diovaldo and Eunbi faced off in their latest match of Persona 4 Arena Ultimax. Both were completely focused, their faces illuminated by the glow of the screen.

“C’mon, you really think you can take me down?” Diovaldo teased, not looking away from the action. his hands dances around the top of his hitbox like a delicate dancers or the practiced measure of a trained pianist.

Eunbi shot him a sidelong glance, fingers moving furiously across the controller. “Please, I’m about to wipe the floor with you. You just wait.”

The match was close, each of them going through their block strings trying to crack the other's defensive options and abilities. The tension between them was palpable, but it was playful, electric—both a challenge and an invitation.

Just as Eunbi’s character moved in for what she thought was a finishing blow, Diovaldo grinned. “Too slow.”

He executed a perfect counter, watching as her health bar dropped to zero. The words K.O. flashed across the screen.

“What the hell!” Eunbi shouted, throwing her hands up as Diovaldo burst into laughter.

“Victory is mine!” Diovaldo crowed, leaning back against the couch with a smug grin. he cracked his knuckles with a relaxed ease.

Eunbi narrowed her eyes, not at all fazed by the loss. “Alright, big shot, that was pure luck. Rematch. You’re going down this time.”

“Oh, you think so?” Diovaldo shifted closer, his voice dropping as he playfully taunted her. “You really think you can handle me, babe?”

Eunbi raised an eyebrow, leaning in to match his energy. “Please, I think I can do more than handle you. Just watch.”

For a second, their eyes locked, and the air between them sparked. Their teasing was more than just competition—it was the way they communicated, the way they challenged and pushed each other, both in games and in life. Every match was a test of will, but also a way to get closer. In this heat, they kissed, as their passion melted shifted from the game to just the love of each other.

But just as the heat was beginning to light, Diovaldo’s phone buzzed on the coffee table.

Eunbi groaned as Diovaldo broke the kiss, rolling her eyes. “You better not answer that.”

Diovaldo glanced at the caller ID and sighed. “It’s Nicky. I gotta pick up—could be about the D&D game tonight.”

She sighed, leaning back into the couch. “Fine. But you owe me a rematch after this.”

“Deal,” Diovaldo said, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before answering the phone. “Yo, Nicky, what’s up?”

Nicky’s excited voice crackled through the speaker. “Hey, just wanted to update you. Somi’s joining us tonight for the session. Sejeong and I just finished her character sheet a few minutes ago.”

Diovaldo glanced at Eunbi, already imagining the chaos that Somi would bring to the game. “Oh man, Somi, huh? This is gonna be… interesting.”

“Yeah, buckle up, because we are doing a mega dungeon crawl tonight. See you tonight,” Nick added before hanging up.

Diovaldo set the phone down and grinned at Eunbi. “Looks like we’ve got a wild card tonight. You ready for some chaos?”

Eunbi smirked, grabbing her controller again. “Oh, I was born ready. But first, I’m kicking your ass in this rematch.”

Diovaldo laughed, already leaning in for round two. “Let’s see if you can back up that talk, Eunbi.”

And with that, they dove back into the game, the competitive energy between them as strong as ever, their passion fueled by every challenge thrown their way. After finishing up another set their alarm to leave went off, and they decided to finally get ready to go to Sejeong, and Nicky's home. On the way the grabbed pizza for everyone.  

the couple neared the door and Dio turned to Eunbi"you ready?" Diovaldo asks Eunbi as he carries the pizzas inside.

"Always. New Campaign new me." Eunbi replies confident. Diovaldo nods and follows her in as she holds the door open for them as he sets the pizzas down.

"Yay you brought food." Somi said excitedly before going up to Dio and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Eunbi glared subtly at the gesture before moving between the two "So you must be Somi. Ivan's girlfriend." she said coldly

Somi nodded before tilting her head noticing Eunbi’s Evangelion hoodie.

It did little to hide her figure but it brought Hyewob more in line with Somi's mental picture of her.

"Yep that's me Ivan's best girl," Somi said happily. Ivan has told me a little bit about you but I am curious. How did you get into this kind of stuff,"

Eunbi still dealing with her surging jealousy, gripped Diovaldo tight, "Well Dio invited me a few weeks ago and Sejeong and Nicky have been super kind. so I stayed."

Somi smiled, "Yeah that's our leader, always so kind."

after that, everyone gets their character sheets and settles in.

"You all awake in a tavern," Sejeong says but is interrupted by a knock on the door. Sejeong gestures for Dio to open it and is surprised to see Mordenkainen.

As Diovaldo got up to open the door, the atmosphere shifted, and everyone looked on with curiosity. He swung the door open, expecting maybe one of their friends to arrive late—but instead, a figure in long, flowing robes with a shock of white hair stood there, eyes gleaming with an intensity that sent a chill through the room. It was Mordenkainen himself, looming in the doorway with an expression of absolute outrage.

“Oh…wow,” Diovaldo stammered, trying to hold onto his usual bravado. “Uh…can we help you?”

Mordenkainen's gaze swept across the room, his intense eyes narrowing. "You… you have the audacity to play a game based on the lives of my friends and family? This is no laughing matter!"

The group exchanged confused glances. Nicky, who was co-DMing with Sejeong, took a deep breath, trying to regain some control. “Um, sir, we’re just… we’re playing a friendly game. This is just D&D, you know?”

Mordenkainen stepped inside, his robes swishing as he approached the center of the room, his voice resonant and thunderous. “A game? This… trivialization of my world—of the worlds beyond yours—is disgraceful! You mock battles that tore through realms, people who fought for their lives, stories bound by sacrifice. And you reduce it to dice and… pizza?”

Eunbi snorted, half amused, trying to hold back a laugh, but a sharp glance from Mordenkainen silenced her. Even Diovaldo, usually the bold one, shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

“Listen,” Flint began, trying to reason with the imposing figure, “we’re not trying to insult anyone. We’re just… inspired by your world. It’s kind of a compliment?”

“Compliment?” Mordenkainen bellowed. He raised a hand, and with a snap of his fingers, the lights flickered, the walls trembled, and a portal swirled into existence, casting an eerie blue light across the room.

Sejeong, who’d been completely silent, finally found her voice, “Okay, hold on. No need for drastic measures. We’ll… uh… stop playing? We don’t want any trouble.”

“Oh, you’ll stop playing,” Mordenkainen said, a dangerous glint in his eye, “because you’ll be living it.”

With a wave of his hand, a flash of blinding light filled the room. Everyone felt a rush of wind and a strange tingling sensation as if they were being pulled apart and reassembled at the same time.

When the light faded, they found themselves sprawled on the ground, groggy and disoriented, their clothing now replaced with fantastical garb. Diovaldo glanced down at his attire, light armor with a scary-looking axe strapped to his back. Eunbi stood beside him, equally stunned, decked out in flowing robes adorned with ancient symbols.

“Wait… are we… are we in the game?” Somi asked, staring in awe at her new mage’s robes, a staff clutched in her hand.

Ivan, looking down at the armor that replaced his jeans and T-shirt, could only stammer, “This… this can’t be real. This… has to be a prank, right?”

Sejeong checked herself over, now clad in the resplendent armor she’d always envisioned for her character, a high-ranking cleric. She looked at Nicky, who was equally stunned, holding a bard’s lute.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, realization dawning. “This is real. We’re actually in the game.”

Mordenkainen’s voice echoed in their minds, seemingly coming from the sky itself, “Perhaps now, you’ll understand the gravity of the worlds you toy with. Prove yourselves worthy, and maybe—maybe—you’ll find a way home. Fail, and you’ll be trapped here as characters in this world forever.”

The group exchanged a mix of terrified and exhilarated glances, the reality of their situation beginning to sink in. Flint and Mina stood close together while Dio held his head as a headache started ringing in his ears. Eunbi approached him concerned. He winced when she touched his head as visions of gods and monsters swam through his head.

Taking charge he said firmly, “We should probably find the nearest town and find lodging before the night comes. The party nodded as they headed in the direction of smoke. That smoke led them to a town being overrun by skeletons resurrected by the evil Lich Nevinyrral. The group was first attacked but a quick reaction from Sejeong she took out a holy symbol and the skeletons turned away expeditiously… or they would if it weren't for the radiant glowing Diovaldo who slammed into another one and crushed another with his mighty great axe. He was able to clean up the rest as he turned the skeletons to dust. They noticed a dual inscription on it but none of them (except Dio) spoke or read the language.

After the battle, the remaining townspeople praised the heroes. They stood wary of Dio however due to his scarred face and body until the rest pushed him to the front.

"You saved us Why?" the mayor asked wary of the Scourge Aasimar with Dark red spots covering his body.

"Well we needed lodging and food for the night before we continue our journey. that's kinda hard when everyone is dead." Dio said.

The mayor laughed and said, "Well at least you all are practical. If you're not to opposed the church house can serve as your base of operations. if you so chose, since our god has abandoned us. We will bring food for you as well." The group noded then headed to the house of the Jade Seraph. the approach the church house solemnly, but as soon As Dio enters. He sees visions of more gods and battles causing him to collapse.

As their characters' memories merge with theirs Eunbi speaks up, "He's getting worse. What do we do?" Sejeong sighs and does another calm emotion spell on Dio hopefully stopping the progress of his ailment at least a little bit.

"We better find that Mage fast!" Flint asserts. Mina, Somi and Ivan nod before all finding places in the monastery. Dio finds a quiet corner to sleep in away from the group.

After settling in at the Jade Seraph’s monastery, Mina and Flint exchanged a glance, silently agreeing that they needed to get out for a bit. Flint leaned in close, whispering, “Let’s take a walk around the town. Maybe we can find out more about this world we’re stuck in—and get some alone time too.”

Mina smiled and nodded. She grabbed his hand as they slipped quietly out of the church house, leaving the others to recover and set up.

Outside, the town was still tense but slowly beginning to relax after the recent skeleton attack. Torches lined the cobblestone streets, and a few market stalls were cautiously reopening, their owners eyeing the streets warily, but there was a hopeful buzz in the air after the group’s intervention. The cool evening air and the faint smell of wood smoke brought a sense of calm to Flint and Mina as they wandered hand in hand.

They stopped at a small food stall run by an elderly woman selling what looked like hot skewers of spiced meat. Flint bought a couple, handing one to Mina with a warm smile. She took a bite, eyes lighting up as the taste hit her. “Wow, this is… actually really good,” she said, savoring the smoky, peppery flavors.

Flint laughed. “Gotta say, I didn’t expect food to taste this good here either. But I’ll take it. Now, if only we could figure out how long we’re going to be here…”

Just then, a tall, cloaked figure approached the stall, catching their attention. Flint subtly pulled Mina a bit closer as the figure ordered in a low, gravelly voice. Curious and cautiously friendly, Mina leaned toward him. “Excuse me, sir. We’re… new in town. Could you tell us what’s been going on here?”

The figure turned, revealing the face of a battle-worn man with a weary expression. He looked them up and down, nodding. “You’re not from these parts, are you? I can tell by your garb.” He cleared his throat and continued, “This town has been plagued by the dark magic of Nevinyrral. He’s a lich who’s been terrorizing the villages on the outskirts for years now, resurrecting the dead to do his bidding. Every few months, he sends his skeletons to wreak havoc and remind us of his power.”

Mina’s eyes widened. “And… the gods? We heard the people talking about a god abandoning the town.”

The man spat on the ground bitterly. “The Jade Seraph, our patron godess, hasn’t answered our prayers for years. Some say she’s left us for good, while others whisper she’s been captured by Nevinyrral himself, his powers drained for dark purposes.”

Flint’s hand tightened around Mina’s. “Do you know of anyone in town who might be able to help us? Someone with knowledge of the gods, or perhaps even magic?”

The man glanced around cautiously, then nodded. “Seek out Elara, the town’s herbalist and a follower of the Old Ways. She has knowledge of magic—more than she lets on. You’ll find her on the edge of the forest, near the willow grove. But be careful. She doesn’t trust strangers.”

“Thank you,” Mina said, dipping her head in gratitude. She exchanged a look with Flint, excitement and apprehension in her eyes. “We’ve got a lead now,” she murmured as they continued walking.

As they made their way to the forest’s edge, the town’s rustic charm was replaced by an eerie quiet. Shadows danced beneath the trees as they approached a small, ivy-covered cottage with lanterns lighting a narrow path. Inside, Elara was mixing herbs when she noticed them standing hesitantly at her door.

“Strangers,” she said, her tone wary but intrigued. “You seek answers. Why?”

Flint stepped forward. “We’re not from here. We were… brought to this world by magic, and now we’re looking for a way to go back. But it seems there’s more going on here than we realized. We want to understand this place, to help where we can.”

Elara’s gaze softened. “If you wish to learn, then enter. But understand that knowledge here often comes with a price.” She motioned them inside, and they followed her, exchanging a brief, reassuring look.

The air inside the cottage was thick with the scent of herbs and old parchment. Elara gestured for them to sit, and as she began to tell them more about the lich, the town’s lost god, and the ancient magic that bound their world, Mina and Flint listened intently, feeling as if the pieces of a larger puzzle were finally beginning to fall into place.

For the first time since they’d arrived, they felt a glimmer of hope—not only that they might find a way home, but that they could make a difference here, maybe even defeat Nevinyrral himself.

As Mina and Flint slipped out, the remaining group settled into the dimly lit corners of the monastery. Dio sat by one of the worn pews, his back against the cold stone wall, looking drained and uneasy. Eunbi noticed him from across the room, a thoughtful look on her face. After a few quiet moments, she made her way over to him, sitting down beside him and resting her hand on his.

“Hey,” she said softly, breaking the silence. “How’s the head?”

Dio exhaled, his gaze fixed on the dusty wooden floor. “Feels like I’ve been caught in a storm I can’t see. Visions, memories that aren’t mine… They just keep flooding in.” He looked at her, his eyes clouded with confusion and something else—fear. “Genta, I don’t even know what’s real anymore.”

She reached out, gently cupping his face, brushing her thumb across his cheek. “We’re here, Dio. Right here, together. That’s real.”

He leaned into her touch, a small measure of comfort slipping through the tension he was holding onto. “It’s not just the visions,” he murmured, voice barely audible. “I feel… different. Stronger, but also… angry. Like there’s something in me I can’t control.” He clenched his fists, and for a second, they glowed with a faint, radiant energy before dimming again. “It’s like I’m becoming something else.”

Eunbi laced her fingers with his, squeezing his hand firmly. “I get it. I don’t have whatever this new power is like you do, but I feel like… part of me is changing here, too.” She paused, her own vulnerability showing. “Being here, seeing you go through this… It makes me think about what we have. What if we don’t get back home? What if this is all we’ve got?”

Dio looked at her, eyes softening. “Then… we’ll make this place ours. If this is where we’re meant to be, we’ll find a way to live and be happy, no matter what.” He brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, his hand lingering. “But if we get back, I want to make sure I don’t leave anything unsaid. I don’t want to waste time, not with you.”

Eunbi’s breath hitched, and she held his gaze. “Me neither,” she whispered, her hand sliding up to his shoulder as she leaned in. “I don’t want to hold back anymore, Dio. Not in here, and not out there.”

They shared a kiss, soft and lingering, a grounding force in the whirlwind of uncertainty. For that brief moment, the world around them faded away, leaving only the warmth between them, a promise that even in this strange, unfamiliar place, they had each other.

When they pulled back, Dio sighed, a bit of the tension easing from his shoulders. “Whatever happens, Genta… you and me, we’ll face it together. I promise.”

She nodded, her expression resolute. “Together.” Dio nodded as Eunbi brought him in for a kiss. her hands cupped his face gently as they kissed again. Eunbi smiled.

"You smell so nice. Like Oranges Vanilla ice cream" she said. Dio smiled as they kissed, again. his hands found purchase on her chest.

"No matter the world you still drive me crazy, and I love you," Dio said.

Eunbi smiled as she undid her armor and dress before saying, "prove it."

Sejeong and Nicky settled by a low fire in the monastery’s quietest corner, their voices hushed. Nicky leaned in close, his expression tense. “We really need to talk about Dio’s backstory. If we’re actually in this world, then… well, his 'Creator' might actually exist out here, and he could be looking for him.” Sejeong looked over at Dio, who was resting uneasily in a far corner, shrouded in shadows. “You mean the necroalchemist,” she whispered. “The one obsessed with ascension? With turning one of his creations into a god?” “Yeah,” Nicky nodded, his voice barely audible. “Remember, Dio was his closest success. He wasn’t just made; he was made to be perfect, to force a kind of unnatural divine evolution.” Nicky’s voice grew even lower. “If the Creator is here, he’ll be hell-bent on finishing what he started.” Sejeong shivered, the weight of the situation sinking in. “So if Dio’s backstory holds true here, it’s not just a dangerous world—it’s a hostile one. One that might see him as either a target or as a prized possession. We’re going to have to protect him, and… well, he’s going to have to face things he never signed up for.” Nicky nodded slowly, his eyes on Dio, the weight of their shared responsibility settling on them both. “We’ll watch his back. But we need to prepare him too… there are things even he doesn’t know about his origin, and if we don’t tell him soon, the truth might catch up with him before he’s ready.” Sejeong clenched her jaw, steeling herself. “Alright. When the time comes, we’ll make sure he knows.”

[sendpseuds]

Voter registration AU sounds so goooood already! Please more if you have more ideas!

"Mr. Skywalker."

Anakin recognizes the voice immediately, a wild chill running down his spine before he can turn to face the man who has been running through his mind for weeks.

"I'm glad to see you've chosen to do your civic duty after all."

He wasn't going to.

He never has before.

Hell, until last month, Anakin hadn't even been registered to vote.

Not until he met Obi-Wan.

Usually, he has no problem speed-walking past those annoying mall canvassers —putting his hood up and his head down, pretending he can't hear the pleas for "just a moment of your time," not caring if they want to talk about the rainforest or his electric bill — but when a smooth voice had broken through the haze of his thoughts, Anakin found himself staring into the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen.

The same eyes looking at him now.

Eyes Anakin had been too caught up in to lie when the man asked if he was registered to vote in a low and lilting voice that had his mind blank of any reasonable excuse. He'd barely been able to pay attention as Obi-Wan walked him through the shockingly simple process, nodding along with words he wasn't listening to and answering the questions as if the responses were automatic, agreeing readily when the man offered to make him a voting plan.

At no point during this process did Anakin actually intend to go through with said plan.

That was until—

"Yeah, well, I kinda know one of the volunteers," Anakin says with a tilted smile, trying to swallow the blush he can feel beginning to heat his cheeks, determined not to trip over himself the way he had all those weeks ago when Obi-Wan casually commented on the coincidence of being assigned to Anakin's district and suddenly voting had become his top priority, "I didn't want to disappoint him."

The words come out confident and cool even as his heart skips at the way Obi-Wan smiles and suddenly Anakin thinks maybe he hadn't been halucinating the heated energy between them.

"Well," Obi-Wan hums teasingly, those stunning eyes shifting from sky blue to silver to sage and back again as he flashes a playful grin, "you haven't actually voted yet."

In the weeks since he met Obi-Wan, Anakin has been fantasizing about this moment— what he'd do, what he'd say, how he'd convince the man to fuck him in a voting booth [which now that he sees that a "booth" is little more than a plastic divider on a table, he's realizing isn't exactly an option.]

Even in the most subdued scenarios where he stutters his way through asking the man for his number, one thing is clear—

He won't get another chance.

Might as well go for it.

"Is that what you want me to do?"

Obi-Wan blinks.

"Is that what I—" he repeats the words slowly, his eyebrows shooting up when he registers the flirtation beneath the words, "Anakin—"

"You want me to do my civic duty?"

He's pushing it and he knows it — ducking his head, batting his lashes, sucking his lip — but he'd rather get rejected like this than walk out of here and wonder.

"I—" Obi-Wan stutters, his eyes tracking over the younger man's features before finally dropping to his mouth and Anakin can't help but sink his teeth into the flesh of his lower lip, trying not to smile the moment he sees the reservation drain from those bright beautiful eyes, "Yes. I do."

Victory.

"I may need a little— guidance," Anakin teases, stepping closer, his voice low like a secret, "This is my first time you know."

It doesn't take long to get checked in and into a "booth" with his ballot and a blue bic pen and though his entire body is begging for whatever comes next, there is a strange moment of clarity as he stares down at the paper before him.

It feels— important.

When he feeds his completed ballot into the machine and turns to find Obi-Wan wearing a smug smile, Anakin thinks the only thing better than feeling pride in himself is seeing it in those incredible eyes.

"So—" Anakin hums as he approaches the man, ducking his head and looking up through his lashes, "Do I get a reward?"

Obi-Wan hums consideringly, his initial shock long since past, that cool control back in place even as he lets his gaze linger on Anakin's lips far longer than anyone would consider decent.

"Of course you do, darling."

It takes every last ounce of control in Anakin's body not to simply fall to his knees right there in the middle of a church's rec room.

Then the bastard holds up an I VOTED sticker with a shit-eating grin and a wink and he thinks he might just explode.

"A sticker?" Anakin grunts through gritted teeth, his voice both desperate and disappointed despite his best efforts but when a large hand lands on his shoulder, warm and heavy, a knot in his chest eases.

"I want you to wear it."

It's like being struck by lightning—

The way Obi-Wan's steady words skitter down his spine.

He can't get that stupid fucking sticker on fast enough.

It's only then, as he's about to crumple up the flimsy strip of backing film that he sees it—

Ten numbers.

Neat handwriting.

Blue ink.

And when that voice rumbles low in his ear, Anakin can honestly say, he's never been more excited for an election night in his life.

"The polls close at eight."

[kimstclair]

Game Night

Game night was in full swing, and the tension was palpable.

“C’mon, Amren, don't be a killjoy,” Cassian taunted, leaning back in his chair with a playful smirk.

Amren poured herself another glass of wine and dismissed him for the third time. “These games are bad for my nerves.”

“You know what?” Cassian insisted, grinning mischievously. “Let’s make a bet! If I win, you have to play two more rounds. If you win, I promise to make sure Rhys will take one more thought at the High King thing.”

Amren clicked her tongue with a smirk. “When Rhysand actually becomes High King, I promise I'll play as many stupid card games as you want.”

“Forget it, Cass, she’s already too old to enjoy life,” Rhysand teased. But before Amren could snap back, Feyre spoke up, stretching her arms out with a yawn.

“You can play, I'm kinda tired.”

“Oh no, darling,” Rhysand interrupted with a sly grin, “you were the one who wanted to play in the first place. I'm sitting this out.”

“Actually,” Azriel cleared his throat, “I have some reports to finish. You all go ahead.”

“For Mother’s sake,” Nesta said aloud, rolling her eyes. “You’re all so dramatic.”

She pushed her chair back and headed toward the door arc. “Where are you going, hon?” Cassian called after her.

“I’ll be back soon,” Nesta replied, already walking down the hallway.

–

Gwyn was engrossed in a new novel Emerie had lent her when Deirdre tapped her shoulder. “Clotho asked me to give you this.”

She handed over a note: You have a visitor.

Gwyn had two guesses as to who it might be, but refused to admit one of them made her heart skip a beat. She slipped out of her nightgown, threw on a casual robe, and headed toward the library.

Visitors weren’t allowed in the priestesses’ dormitory, so it wasn’t surprising to find Nesta waiting for her by Clotho’s desk, clad in an elegant dress.

“Is everything okay?” Gwyn asked.

Nesta’s face lit with a mischievous glint. “How good are you at cards?”

–

Back in the game room, the first round was underway.

“I swear!” Cassian shouted. “I felt Rhys inside my mind.”

Rhysand rolled his eyes. “Cassian, that’s not a thing. You can’t feel when I’m using my daemati powers.”

“So you admit you used them!” Cassian snapped, looking triumphant.

“Let’s just start over,” Feyre suggested, barely holding back a laugh.

Azriel was holding his cards quietly, but Gwyn noted the faintest smile on his lips. She also noticed a card poking out of the collar of Rhysand’s robes and Cassian’s cards sprawled across the table, likely tossed in a fit of rage.

“That’s why I don’t play,” a small, black-haired female Gwyn recognized as Amren said, looking directly at her and sipping her wine.

Everyone at the table turned to look at Gwyn and Nesta standing by the doorway. Feyre greeted them with a warm smile.

"Just found the missing player for our game," Nesta announced proudly.

“Good to see you, Gwyneth,” Rhysand greeted with a smile.

“Good evening, High Lord,” Gwyn replied with a respectful bow.

“Please, call me Rhysand,” he grinned, his gaze twinkling with amusement. “Especially if we’re about to be rivals in a… intense match.”

–

Cassian, clearly frustrated, turned to Rhysand and Feyre. "You two can't be a team anymore; you're always communicating telepathically!"

Rhysand merely smiled. "Are we just too good for you, Cass?"

“Stop stalling, Rhys. Everyone here knows you and Feyre have an unfair advantage,” Cassian grumbled, crossing his arms.

Nesta, arms crossed and expression calculating, saw her chance. “Alright. Gwyn and I could pair up, and you four can rearrange yourselves.”

But after a pause, she reconsidered. “Actually… I don’t trust Azriel with any daemati,” she added, casting a look at Azriel, who merely raised an eyebrow in response. “He’ll do whatever it takes to win.”

Cassian laughed, then had an idea. “Fine, then let’s try this: Nesta and I split to join Rhys and Feyre. That way, we’ll keep them in check.”

Azriel sighed, his calm tone laced with faint exasperation. “Not that I have an issue with the pairing,” he said, his gaze sweeping the table, “but that arrangement would leave Gwyn and me at a disadvantage.”

Rhysand smirked. “Oh, don’t worry, Azriel. I promise I won’t be using… my shadows this time.”

Azriel’s expression didn’t shift, but there was a glimmer in his eyes. He glanced Gwyn’s way, eyebrow raised, daring her to react. She suppressed a smile, feeling the camaraderie—and something else, a subtle tension that she preferred not to examine too closely.

“I think they’re just scared, Gwyn,” Azriel murmured, his tone light yet challenging. “Looks like we’ll have to show them how it’s done.”

Gwyn raised an eyebrow, playing along. “Well, if you think you can handle it, Shadowsinger… I’m in.”

Cassian patted Rhysand’s back. “Looks like we’ve got a match! Let’s see if the shadow-and-singer duo can really take us on.”

Rhysand merely shrugged. “May the best team win.”

“Alright, you two can pair up, and I’ll take Nesta,” Feyre suggested. “Everyone take seats opposite your partners—no one sits next to their teammate.”

As they shuffled places, Azriel passed by Gwyn and leaned close. “Rhys and Feyre will try to read your mind, so keep it focused. And watch out for Cassian; he pretends to get more wine just to peek over at people’s cards.”

Gwyn only had time to nod as everyone settled in.

–

The game quickly spiraled into chaos. Cassian barely made it through the first hand before he got up to refill his wine. Gwyn recalled Azriel’s advice and turned her cards down as Cassian passed.

Rhysand eyed Feyre with suspicion. “You’re not cheating, are you, darling?”

Feyre raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Me? Rhys, I’m hurt you’d even suggest that.”

Amren scoffed. “As if she needs to cheat to beat you.”

Nesta leaned toward Cassian, whispering, “Azriel’s plotting something. I’ll bet a bottle of wine on it.”

“Deal,” Cassian replied, grinning.

Not even halfway through the game, Rhysand suggested a pause. Everyone agreed readily.

“You know, Cassian, considering how many times you’ve refilled your glass tonight, I’d say you’ve had your breaks,” Azriel noted.

“If we’re talking suspicious behavior,” Nesta chimed in, “we could mention the shadows swirling around Azriel’s ears all night.”

Azriel didn’t flinch, though his expression sharpened with determination. Gwyn had seen that same look on his face in training—a readiness to do whatever it took to win. Across the table, Gwyn noticed the glances Rhysand and Feyre were exchanging. She leaned toward Azriel, whispering, “They’re in cahoots.”

Azriel nodded, his voice low and amused. “Who isn’t?”

Gwyn did notice the shadows slipping around her neck, weaving through her hair and peeking at her cards as the game progressed. It was as if Azriel always knew her move before she even played her card, his shadows acting like an extension of her thoughts.

“Feyre and Nesta have a tell,” she whispered to Azriel, leaning subtly toward him. “Whenever they’re holding a bad hand, Feyre always scratches her eyebrow.”

Azriel regarded her with sharp eyes, a faint glint of approval there. “Observant,” he murmured, taking a sip of his whiskey. “And nice work sneaking a look at Cassian’s cards.”

Gwyn flushed, but she couldn’t help a proud smile. It was true; whenever Cassian was too busy gazing at Nesta to notice anything else around him, she took the opportunity to steal a glance at his hand. It was almost too easy sometimes. She hadn’t known that Azriel had picked up on her tactic until now.

“Alright, back to business!” Nesta called, dealing another round.

Apparently, the other pairs had also used the break to regroup and adjust their strategies. Gwyn noticed it was much harder to get a peek at Cassian’s cards now, and Feyre had changed her signal—she now wrapped a lock of hair around her finger, subtly.

Azriel’s shadows were more elusive now, but she could still feel their presence, curling around her, discreetly hidden by her hair and cloak. She also noticed how the shadows played across Azriel himself, moving slowly over his arms, mingling with the tattoos on his biceps.

Gwyn refused to admit how well she knew the details of those tattoos, practically by heart. She tried to justify it as just the result of their countless training sessions together. Surely, she had to pay attention to her trainer’s movements, didn’t she?

Before she could refocus on the game, Gwyn caught Feyre watching her—and suddenly realized with horror that Feyre was reading her thoughts. Specifically, the thoughts about Azriel’s biceps: those sculpted muscles she had definitely admired a little too closely.

Their eyes met, and Gwyn’s went wide. Feyre quickly turned her attention back to her cards, clearly holding back a grin.

But Gwyn had no time to be embarrassed, as she felt Azriel’s gaze settle on her, waiting for her next move. He tilted his head, his dark eyes intense. “Gwyn?” he asked, as if urging her to return her attention to the game.

Taking a steadying breath, she forced herself to look away from his arms, holding her cards ready to play.

From across the table, Amren smirked as she observed the scene. “You really think this game has anything to do with the cards, don’t you? Poor fools.”

“Oh, absolutely, Amren,” Feyre chimed in, playing along. “Everyone here is being perfectly honest.”

Nesta shrugged, giving an ironic smile. “If we were cheating, Cassian would have noticed. Isn’t that right?”

Cassian huffed. “Sure, because it’s so hard to see through your schemes.”

Nesta arched an eyebrow. “If you played half as well as you talked, Cassian, maybe you’d stand a chance.”

“You know I’m excellent at playing and talking at the same time, Nes,” Cassian retorted with a wicked grin, making his wife blush furiously.

To Gwyn’s surprise, she found herself laughing along with the others. The playful teasing between Cassian and Nesta didn’t make her feel out of place at all.

–

Several rounds later, Cassian threw his cards down, visibly frustrated. “Alright, it’s a tie. We need a tiebreaker.”

Feyre, a little tipsy, leaned toward him with a glint of mischief. “How about something more… physical?” She glanced at Rhysand, a grin spreading on her face. “Like… hide and seek?”

Amren scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Oh, perfect. You just forgot your one year old son is sleeping right now. You don't need to play his games.”

“I don’t think it’s a bad idea,” Azriel said.

“Of course not,” Cassian laughed. “You can melt into shadows.”

Gwyn, feeling more comfortable in the playful atmosphere, smirked. “Look, Azriel and I have been up against teams with telepathic powers all night without complaining. I think we can handle a little hide and seek.”

“Oh?” Cassian leaned forward, intrigued. “What’s your proposal, Miss Berdara?”

Gwyn smiled, her confidence unwavering. “Azriel and I will be seekers. If we find all of you within half an hour, we win. If anyone evades us, they win for their team.”

Everyone exchanged approving glances. Ignoring Amren’s disdainful mutter, the rest of them quickly warmed to the idea.

“That’s it for me. If you want to keep playing, so be it. But I’d rather head home,” Amren announced, rising to her feet.

“I’ll take Amren home, and when I’m back, Gwyn and I will start hunting for all of you,” Azriel offered, glancing at Gwyn with a hint of a smile.

–

Gwyn waited for Azriel on the balcony, her eyes tracing the city below. She admired the beauty of Velaris under the moonlight, feeling a pang of longing. She’d thought of visiting for the first time for a while now, and seeing it like this only strengthened that desire.

She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she only noticed Azriel’s presence when he landed softly beside her, making her jump. Azriel didn’t react much, though his lips twitched into a faint smirk as he stepped closer. “Ready to hunt?” he murmured, his voice low and almost playful.

She straightened, trying to look composed despite the sudden flutter in her pulse. “I think it’s better if we stick together,” she replied, her tone even, though her mind was anything but calm.

And so the game began. As they entered the house, Gwyn and Azriel noticed that most of the corridors were cast in deep shadow, with only a few torches flickering here and there, creating an atmosphere of anticipation. Gwyn decided to light a candle and carry it as they moved.

Azriel raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk on his lips. “Afraid of the dark?”

Gwyn laughed softly, holding the candle steady. “Not at all, Shadowsinger. But if we want to win this game, it might help if we don’t trip over our own feet.”

Moving like shadows, Gwyn and Azriel searched together, silent and in sync. As they crept through the hallways, Gwyn became acutely aware of the closeness between them—of Azriel’s steady, focused presence beside her.

Then, for a brief moment, they found themselves alone in a dim, quiet corridor. Azriel’s gaze lingered on her, deep and unreadable, and Gwyn’s heart raced as she met his eyes. There was a gravity in his look, something she couldn’t quite place, and she felt her own heartbeat quicken in response. But noises coming from upstairs got their attention and they headed towards it.

Finding Cassian and Feyre was almost too easily. Cassian’s attempts at stealth were practically nonexistent, and Feyre, slightly tipsy, clearly wasn’t taking the game seriously. They were both hiding in plain sight, sharing a quiet laugh in a poorly chosen corner. As soon as they were caught, Cassian shrugged with a laugh, slinging an arm around Feyre’s shoulders. “Guess it’s time for more wine,” he announced, leading her out of their hiding spot as they playfully bickered over whose hiding place had been worse.

Gwyn and Azriel moved on, stepping deeper into the house. Their path led them to Nesta’s personal library, where Azriel paused by the door. He glanced at the candle in Gwyn’s hand, then reached out to gently extinguish it.

“It’ll give us away,” he murmured, his voice low, his breath warm against her ear.

She shivered, barely managing a nod. “Good idea.”

Azriel leaned in close to her, his voice a whisper. “Let’s split up. You take the left side of the shelves. I’ll go right.”

–

As Azriel moved down his chosen aisle, he was impressed at how quiet Gwyn was, her footsteps nearly as silent as his own. His shadows flitted through the shelves, scanning for any sign of Nesta, though they hadn’t yet detected her presence. The only light in the library was the silvery glow of moonlight streaming in through a tall window at the end of the aisle, casting soft shadows that mingled with his own.

Azriel was nearing the end of the aisle when, suddenly, something crashed into his torso, and he stumbled back, landing on the floor with a muffled thud.

“Got you!” Gwyn’s triumphant whisper filled the silence.

“Gwyn?” Azriel murmured, surprised. She was perched on top of him, her hands wrapped around his torso. In the dim light, he could just make out her silhouette, her eyes reflecting the faintest hint of moonlight.

“I... I thought you were Nesta,” she breathed, her face mere inches from his.

“That’s alright,” he replied, his voice dropping to a soft whisper. He realized his hands had instinctively found their way to her waist when they fell—and he hadn’t moved them since. Neither had she.

They stared at each other in the dim glow, their breaths mingling in the quiet. But then, a movement broke the spell—a shadow darting toward the door.

“Nesta!” Gwyn leaped off him, sprinting toward the door just in time to block it as Nesta tried to slip through.

Nesta was slightly out of breath. “Alright, you got me. Mother above, Gwyn, you’re fast!”

–

“Looks like we’re winning,” Gwyn murmured, a hint of excitement in her voice.

Azriel held her gaze, and she felt that same magnetic pull she’d been fighting all evening. “Never celebrate victory too early. We’ll just have to keep playing to see who comes out on top.”

Gwyn pushed away the thought that she’d, in fact, been on top of him only moments ago. She could still feel the ghost of his hands on her waist. But whether his words held hidden meaning, or if she was just reading too much into things… she honestly couldn’t tell.

–

“We’ve combed through this whole house!” Gwyn called out, finally abandoning all pretense of stealth.

Azriel leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as he considered. “Rhysand wouldn’t hide somewhere obvious,” he said thoughtfully. “And he’d pick a place that’s clever, just to draw it out. He enjoys making people work for it.”

“What about the training ring?” she suggested. “Technically, it’s within the property, if we’re going by the rules literally.”

Azriel’s brows lifted in appreciation. “Good thinking.” They quickly made their way to the ring, but when they arrived, it was empty.

Gwyn let out a sigh, half frustration, half laughter. “Well, that was a waste.”

“Not entirely,” Azriel reassured, his lips curling. “It was a solid guess, Berdara.”

She studied him for a moment, then seemed to have an idea, her face lighting up with renewed energy. “Do you trust me?”

He blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Yes.”

Without another word, she took his hand and pulled him along, sprinting through the house. As they ran, he pieced together where she was leading him: the balcony, where the game had started. It was exactly the sort of place Rhysand would find amusing.

They reached the balcony, but it, too, was empty.

Gwyn glanced at Azriel, cheeks flushed from their dash. “I’m sorry. I thought he’d be here as a kind of ‘full circle’ thing.”

“Don’t apologize,” Azriel said, his tone reassuring, though his eyes sparkled with faint amusement. “It was a good guess. Classic Rhysand—he’d totally…” He trailed off, then stepped forward, glancing over the balcony railing.

“Rhysand, you ridiculous bat, get up here!” Azriel shouted, shaking his head.

Gwyn heard a soft chuckle from below just before the High Lord soared up from beneath the balcony, laughter in his eyes as he landed.

–

Cassian was practically doubled over with laughter. “I can’t believe you hung upside down like a bat for half an hour.”

“Almost half an hour,” Azriel corrected, glancing at Gwyn. “We found him first. In fact, we found all of you before time ran out.”

“You two make a good team,” Feyre remarked casually, though the glance she sent Gwyn’s way hinted at her true thoughts.

“Well-deserved win,” Rhysand congratulated them. “Though, now it seems like you and Gwyn should face off for first place.”

“Oh, please, don’t start!” Nesta interjected. “Those two will be at it all night if we let them.”

“You’re right, Nes,” Cassian said, pulling her close with an arm around her waist. “Let’s save the grand finale for another night.”

Feyre and Rhys said their goodbyes before winnowing to the River House, and Nesta and Cassian prepared to return to their chambers.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Gwyn said, smiling.

“Oh, hon, you're welcome here anytime,” Nesta replied easily.

“Especially if you're about to beat Azriel’s ass in the next game night,” Cassian joked.

Azriel crossed his arms. “Don’t give her too much hope. Berdara might start thinking she actually stands a chance.”

“As if I’d ever back down from you, Shadowsinger,” Gwyn shot back, matching his tone.

“Save some of that teasing for morning training, you two,” Cassian muttered with a grin as he and Nesta left for their quarters, leaving Gwyn and Azriel standing side by side in the warm, quiet aftermath of the evening.

Azriel offered to escort Gwyn back to the library, and they started down the path together. The silence between them was comfortable but charged with a tension that seemed to grow with each step.

“It’s nice to see you all together like this,” Gwyn said, breaking the silence. “Do you do this often?”

Azriel took a moment to answer. “We used to, before... you know, Amarantha.”

Gwyn nodded, understanding. There was a beat of quiet before she spoke again. “About what happened in the library…” Azriel turned to look at her. “Sorry for, uh… tackling you.”

"That’s alright," Azriel replied simply. Gwyn thought she saw a small tremor at his lips, as if he was on the verge of saying something more, but instead, he simply continued walking beside her, steady and silent.

They reached the entrance to the library, which was now dark and empty, the other priestesses already asleep.

“Well, thank you, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel nodded, his gaze lingering for a second longer. “See you tomorrow, Berdara.”

[akascow]

Venom The Last Dance spoilers ahead

i feel like the writers for the first 90% of the movie were all taken to a back alley and shot in the leg by different writers who then finished the last 10% of the movie

this is a post post edit so before we start i think i need to rewatch it actually pls dont correct me on anything bc i'll cry but i realize im definitely misremembering things as i finish writing this HAHA n e way these were my initial thoughts

bc how can we go from ‘but i need him’ and ‘i wish we couldve had this life together’ to venom dying (allegedly) and eddie brock strutting down the street smiling with happy music playing. dude ur bf died HAHA

bro watched his best friend in the whole world sacrifice himself for the two of them and die right in front of him and now hes acting like his life is so much better ? mhm where was that energy during the rest of the movie lol

‘im with you to the end’ liar 🙄

anyway venom definitely isnt dead (for franchise reasons but also) bc the little throw away line at the beginning that Mr Agent says about them liking to stick around or spread or whatever i dont remember it stuck out to me like a neon sign like HEY REMEMBER THIS ! IT WILL BE IMPORTANT !!! lol.

cuz theres no way that acid killed all of him… kinda like deadpool regenerating back to life from a singular drop of blood in the comics (i think? im pretty sure that happened)

anyway if we dont get a 4th movie with a symbrock wedding or at least them actually acknowledging the gay elephant in the room of how deeply overtoned this trilogy is with the homoseggsualitys then whats even the point

but yanno its whatever really, i like venom and i like eddie and i like the trilogy so im not really that mad about it

i think its pretty good for what it is aka a goofy movie that has goofy characters that sometimes also say and do questionabley gay things (affectionate)

and if u ignore the comics or venom predecessors its actually super fun imo. i mean not every superhero movie needs to be super serious or nonsatirical,,

just turn off ur brain for a couple hours youll be fine i promise HAHA i think a lot of ppl tend to forget that; like it doesnt take itself seriously so you shouldnt either lmao but what do i know