#i dislike some of the decisions made over the years too

[yerifes]

hm, anyways... get hype for hitball!!

[nathaslosthershit]

Coworkers?… Something like that (MV33)

Summary: Working in media for a Formula 1 team, you had expected to be behind the scenes, unseen and unnoticed by fans. But catching the eye of one of the drivers and the very public flirting as a result has thrust you into the spotlight Part of my summer event! Warnings: A little suggestive hehe.

It was the perfect job for you. Part of the team you love, far from the spotlight. You were good at it too. Constantly complimented by your boss in meetings on how much engagement some of the content you came up with got. Even the two drivers, who were certainly not known for enjoying media making them do stupid games for the fans, had stopped complaining as much. One driver in particular seemed to really enjoy when you would work with him…

You’d never been a big fan of Max Verstappen. It wasn’t that you disliked him, he was extremely talented of course, and not too bad to look at, but as you had always rooted for the underdog, you couldn’t justify ever celebrating his many many wins. But as you got to know him, as he gave you the warmest of welcomes to the team, you changed your mind. 

You two had been keeping your budding relationship to yourselves. Despite how much you liked each other, until you both had figured out where the relationship was going, it didn’t seem wise to tell anyone, especially while you were just finishing your first year with Red Bull. Despite how much you helped improve the team’s social media presence, if something happened, if it came down to their world champion a few times over, or some girl in media who had only been there for a year…

Luckily, it did get more serious, very serious. After a long conversation, you both had come to the decision that you won’t say anything explicitly, as Red Bull didn’t have rules on dating coworkers that would warrant an official notice to HR, but you wouldn’t hide as much. 

Too bad this decision was made not long before the Drive to Survive team came to film extra content for the show.

It was only supposed to be filler clips. Extra video footage to use with a voiceover to give more time to explain things. ‘Just pretend we aren’t here’ they had told everyone in the office, and oh boy did you pretend. 

It was Max’s fault, 100%. The undisclosed but very apparent relationship between you two was known to everyone at Red Bull at this point, but not the new video crew coming in. And Drive to Survive lives for the dramatics. 

While it wasn’t explicit, a few clips of hand holding (initiated by Max), a kiss on the cheek (given to you by Max), and multiple clips of Max looking at you with nothing but heart eyes, it was hard for anyone watching to ignore. 

Once the new season came out, fans very quickly caught onto all of the content of the two of you that DTS was trying to be sneaky about putting in. That then led to ‘internet sleuths’ finding all of the behind the scenes content they could get of both of you, and then finding your account you had left public thinking no one would care about the random Red Bull media girl. How stupid you were.

“Max, what the fuck are we supposed to do? Do I delete my account and hope people forget?” You asked, stressed by the sudden spotlight.

“That would just make it worse and make them less likely to forget. We will just have to… be honest, give people enough content to keep them satisfied but not spoiled into needing more.”

He was right. It was almost laughable how he was the voice of reason in this situation when media presence was your job. That is how everything started.

There were no ‘official wag paddock walks’, you were too busy working to be Max’s arm candy before a race. But there were a few photos here and there, your team even posted a few BTS moments of the two of you.

“All you have to do is describe the food you are eating to Checo so he can guess.” You explained to Max for the fourth time, but he was still not listening as he was far too busy appreciating the view of the beautiful woman he got the privilege of calling his girlfriend. “Do you understand?”

As Sergio nudged Max, he responded with a quick, “Yes got it”

“Do not say the name of what you are eating.”

“Yes, yes we know.” He absentmindedly said as the two drivers put on their blindfolds. 

Everyone let out a breath of relief as Max went to lift the spoon to his mouth, the entire crew antsy to finish what was supposed to be a quick video before Max ruined it with his heart eyes and lack of comprehension to anything that came out of your mouth. 

“What the fuck! It’s ketchup!” Max exclaimed as everyone groaned.

“Max, you weren’t supposed to say that!”

“I thought I was guessing what it was! That's why I had the blindfold, no?”

They were in for a long day of shooting.

Max had started a stream, hoping to make it quick so he could join you in bed. Unfortunately, when viewers saw that you were walking through the background, they wouldn’t give up until you joined, so neither of you had much of a choice.

Despite how obvious it was that the two of you were together, neither of you had confirmed the status of your relationship. This led to having to ignore about three quarters of the comments you both were getting on the stream.

“Would you like a Red Bull?” Max asked, 45 minutes into what seemed to be a never ending stream.

“No it’s too late, I’ll go get a water-”

“Nope you stay there i'll get it.” Max said, antsy for an excuse to take a moment to himself. The amount of comments about the two of you were starting to piss him off.

He returned to the room to see you answering questions and, while still off camera, he set down the glass and waved to get your attention.

‘End it’ he mouthed, making prayer motions with his hands.

You simply shook your head, you had been having more fun talking to people than he had.

‘Please, I want to go to bed with you’ he mouthed back, wiggling his eyebrows in hopes of conveying he wanted to do much more than simply go to bed. You couldn’t stop the giggle that left your mouth at that.

Seeing all the viewers confused, you simply responded, “Sorry, my coworker was harassing me” which had you giggling again as you saw Max get visibly annoyed at his new title.

“Okay guys, bye.” Was all Max said as he quickly returned to the view of the camera and turned off the stream. He then turned to face you, saying nothing as he dragged you to the bedroom, holding you close as he pushed you down onto the bed with him, causing more giggles to leave your mouth/

Giggles which he quickly stopped with a kiss. And then another. And then another.

The makeout session was in full swing when Max finally remembered why he was annoyed.

Quickly pulling away from you, much to your chagrin, he asked, “Coworkers? Is that all we are now?” He teased.

Giving him a less passionate but more loving kiss this time, you responded with, “Something like that” as you both started to remove your clothes.

[jgracie]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ SPEED DRIVE!

↳ part two!

ferrari driver!percy jackson x fem!reader

masterlist | rules

warnings one swear word!

on the radio . . . speed drive (charlie xcx)

percy knew it was a bad idea leaving his house without at least a pair of sunglasses to conceal his identity. he was craving cookie dough ice cream, the grocery store wasn’t too far away and it was the middle of the night - who would possibly recognise him at a time like this?

the answer is many people. while percy did love his loyal fans, both tifosi and others, even he had to admit they were a little crazy. all it took was for one to snap a photo and post it on twitter and the rest seemed to immediately spawn all around him

“percy, is it true that luke might lose his seat next year?” he heard one voice say as he attempted to weave through the thick crowd of people. why couldn’t he have one second of peace? unfortunately, percy had made another awful decision that night - walking to the grocery store

this left ferrari’s golden boy with two options: either tough out the wall home with fans and paparazzi alike swarming him, or find someone who was willing to drive him home. with cars on the street in front of him were stationery thanks to the red light, percy made his decision

he bolted for the first one that caught his eye, a car that was small, (ironically) bright red and most importantly had an open roof. percy also had to admit the driver was kind of pretty, at least from what he could see from that far away

the light turned yellow and you prepared yourself to continue driving. you’d only recently gotten your drivers license and this was your first time driving without someone more experienced with you in the car, so you were just praying to end up at your apartment in one piece

just as the light became green and you began to drive, some random guy jumped into the passenger seat of your car, causing your heart rate to increase dramatically and your foot to immediately press on the brakes - out of shock or fear (or both), you weren’t sure

“drive!” he nearly yelled at you. you just stared at him, your mouth agape. it was way too late at night for this. at your state, percy huffed and leaned over to the wheel, beginning to steer for you

this snapped you out of the daze you were in and you slapped his hands away, your brows furrowing in anger as you drove, “who the fuck are you and what do you think you’re doing in my car? i’m pulling over right now, you need to get out.”

“no, please, i promise i didn’t mean any harm! can you just drop me off at my house?” he asked. you didn’t need to look at him to know he was incredibly desperate. who was this guy? as you recalled his face from when he first got into your car, you realised he did look a little familiar, but you still couldn’t figure out his identity

at your silence, percy continued, “i’ll do anything, do you like car racing? i can get you tickets for that!”

okay, so he was rich rich. you didn’t know the first thing about racing, but one of your friends was obsessed with formula one. specifically, a driver called peter jameson (or something along those lines). still, you rolled your eyes at his offer, disliking the way he attempted to bribe you

“no, it’s fine, you don’t have to do anything. where do you live?”

after percy told you his address, the car ride was silent. neither of you knew what to say to the other. you were still shaken by his sudden appearance, and percy was trying to conceal the blush that coated his cheeks. he was right, you were beautiful. the moon made your skin glow and your eyes brighter. from the death grip you had on the wheel, percy could tell you were new at driving. cute

“thanks a lot, you have absolutely no idea how much you helped me tonight,” percy said as he got out of your car. part of you was a little sad to see him go. sure, he freaked you out, but something about him was magnetic - maybe it was those sea green eyes that put all of poseidon’s oceans to shame, or the light dusting of freckles you hadn’t noticed until now

giving him a small smile, you said, “you’re welcome. have a good night.” you stayed for a little and watched as he entered his home, a bittersweet feeling tugging at your heart

once you’d gotten home, you noticed he’d left something on the passenger seat. a strip of paper with a line of messily scrawled numbers lay on the leather

call me. (917) 173-1839 — PJ

[pinkynana]

aita for hooking up with a random man i met at the club while i was in a fight with my boyfriend?

Summary: Your boyfriend always told you that he hated girls at the club, saying that they were easier than prostitutes and such. Which drove you to the decision to go to a club after your hundredth fight with him, just to provoke him. It was never your intention to be in another man’s arms that night.

Word count: 1.7k words

CW : car sex, pussy slapping, spanking, dirty talk, mean(ish)dom!chenle, unprotected sex, fingering, cheating, chenle calls reader a slut (like, twice?), squirting, tell me if i missed anything

Not proofread and probably won’t ever be.

After having a fight with your boyfriend, you decided to spend the night dancing at some unfamiliar club you only knew about because your friend, Jisung worked there as a bartender. Clubbing was never your nature and you made it obvious when you stuck around Jisung the whole night, clutching your purse and giving side eyes to literally everyone who dared to come near you. Jisung chuckled, noticing your awkward stance by the bar he was attending. 

“I told you, you won’t even like it here.” you huffed at his comment. “Well, yeah. But my boyfriend hates girls who go to the club. He said they’re worse than prostitutes because they give away sex for free.”

“Don’t you have sex with him for free, though?”

“Exactly! Also, he literally subscribes to a bunch of girls on onlyfans.”

“You should dump him,”

You sighed right after that suggestion. You knew that was the right thing to do. Anyone could see the red flags on your bum ass of a boyfriend. But how could you break up with the lover you’ve been with for over 5 years? If you were being completely honest, it’s not that you still 100% loved him. It’s the attachment you have on him that was stopping you. And after dumping him then what? You would have to start all over again. Meeting someone new, telling them your likes and dislikes, if you had any dreams, convincing them to meet your parents. It’s all too exhausting. It’s easier to stick with what you have right now. No matter how many times you fought.

You felt a presence taking a seat next to you on the bar. You heard him taking an order to jisung but you paid no attention to it. You weren’t there to meet new people. It was just to provoke your boyfriend and make him regret ever having an argument with you. 

“Hey,” you heard the person next to you called. He waited for you to look up to him before he slid his hotel card towards you as it stopped its motion because of your glass of cola. He then immediately stepped down from his seat and left the bar. Jisung chuckled again, looking at your speechless reaction. “Shut up, ssung. I’m not here for that and you know it.” you said before leaving the bar to chase after the man to give him his hotel keycard back. You were completely clueless of club culture. You could have just thrown it away.

-

You only reached to the stranger when he stopped by what you assumed was his car. “This belongs to you.” you handed him the card. He raised an eyebrow, looking at you from his sunglasses. “You don’t want to spend the night with me?” You observed him keeping the card in the back of his pocket. 

“No, thanks. I have a lot on my plate right now. And I have a boyfriend.”

The stranger leaned his back against his car. His head tilted playfully before he said “Really? Is he prettier than me?” That’s when you questioned why you haven't realized how amazingly gorgeous the man before you is.  And this very man is trying to get into your panties. You chuckled to yourself, a thousand situations going through your head, most of them involving your boyfriend’s reaction to you cheating on him with a random man you just met at the club. But what made you chuckle, really, was how satisfied that would make you. Being a good girlfriend is definitely not your top priority when his isn’t about being a good boyfriend to you either.

“What’s your name?” you asked. “So I know who’s name I’m screaming tonight.” He drew a smile on his lips before pulling you into his arms, pushing you against his car. “Chenle.” he whispered. 

“Chenle..” you repeated, cupping his face as you stared into his eyes. He then plants his first kiss on you, pulling you in close with his arms on your waist. “Foxy, i like it,” he said when he broke the kiss so he could open the door to the backseat of his car, pushing you into it. You giggled, looking at him crawling on top of you and you swore to god that you’ve never seen anyone so gorgeous before. He closed the door behind him before he planted kisses on your neck. “You smell fucking amazing.” he groaned. You felt his tongue run across your whole neck which earned him a small moan from you. Before you knew it, you reached for his hand as you guided it underneath your dress. You saw his smirk with the help of the lights outside his car. He pressed three of his fingers on your lips. “You must really like me, huh?”

“Yea..”

“So wet already for me, just from kissing?” You couldn’t help but moan when he pushed your panties to the side, two of his fingers inside you. You gasped right after he quickly pulled out to give your pussy a slap. 

“I asked you a question, darling.” You bucked your hips to feel even just a little bit of his touch as you whined. “Want you inside me, I’m so wet for you, Chenle. Just for you.” Your arms reached out to him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“What a good slut you are,” He said as he continued making out with you while also fingering you at the same time. He caught your moans in his mouth, playing with your pussy just as much as he likes. And he definitely wasn’t a gentleman about it, going according to his speed. You could hear your wetness squelching with his thrusts, it was almost embarrassing. How could you feel so good from the touch of this man who, the only thing you knew about him, was his name? 

As his ring and middle finger was busy fucking your hole, he used his thumb to rub your clit in circles. It was as if it’s his goal to drive you insane. At this point, this would be the fastest you would reach an orgasm. “Ngh.. Chenle.” You whined his name. “Yeah? Feels good?” He went down to kissing your jaw and neck. “So good. It’s so good, keep going.” Though your eyes were closed shut, you could tell he had a cocky smirk plastered on his face. However, Chenle wasn’t a gentleman. You gasped when he pulled his fingers out of you. You gasped again when he flipped the position as he pulled you so you’d sit on his lap.

“Take off your dress for me, baby.” he caressed your face softly. It was probably the first time he was delicate to you that night. You giggled before you reached for the zipper to take off that one piece of a fabric off your body. You never even noticed the way your hips were grinding on his lap voluntarily until he gave you a spank on your ass. “You wanna ride me, ride me properly.” 

The way Chenle naturally dominates you was the sexiest thing ever. Whatever he said to you, it felt right to just oblige without question. So you unzipped his jeans, pulling them down along with his undergarment, just enough to let his throbbing dick out. And it was evident to you that you weren’t the only one who's excited for the night. The way his tip blazed in an angry red as it slapped his abs the moment you took it out, it made you drool. When did he even unbutton his dress shirt? “Go ahead, you know what to do,” he encouraged.

And without any further say, you slipped your panties to the side just as he did before, lifting your hips while your hand reached down for his cock. You let out a silent moan the moment his tip kissed your entrance. You could already taste the pleasure that was about to come to you and you couldn’t wait so you pushed yourself down so you could sit properly on his cock. It took a couple minutes until you could take him balls deep inside of you. You sighed in pleasure. “So good, baby. Ready?” he asked. You nod your head. “Hey, look at me.” he pinched your chin to turn your face to him.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, you won’t even remember your boyfriend’s name.”

Truth be told, he was long gone from your brain. Now all that occupied your mind was Chenle. Chenle. Chenle. Chenle. Chenle. Chenle. You were chanting his name along with the rhythm of his thrusts. Just because you were on top of him, didn’t mean you were in charge. You wanted to move with him but the way he was taking control of you was hot, you didn’t want anything to change. He gave your ass a squeeze when you started scratching his back while moaning in pleasure. “You hear how sloppy your pussy is?” he was definitely referring to how wet you were down there. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”

“Feels like I’m addicted to your cock already,” 

“I know that’s fucking right,” His hands moved upwards to your waist, bouncing you on his cock like you’re some kind of cock sleeve for him. But it felt so good, you feared that if Chenle had asked you to be his cock sleeve, you would say yes before he would even finish his sentence. And he was thrusting faster, if that was even possible. The grip you had on his shoulder, being fucked by this beautiful stranger at the backseat of his car. The thought drove you closer to your climax. 

“Fuck, Chenle. I’m gonna cum.”

“Make a mess, slut. Make a wild fucking mess that your pussy juice stains my seats and my car would smell like your slutty pussy,” It’s amazing how you felt more turned on with his dirty talking when you swore to god you’d slap anyone who calls you a slut. But for Chenle, you wanted to be a slut. His slut. His dirty slut who dirtied his car seats with your squirt from the best sex you ever had. There was nothing to be ashamed of as he followed suit, pulling out of you and cumming on your thighs, letting the liquid slide down to his seats too. 

“So what’s your boyfriend’s name?”

“As far as I could remember.. I don’t have a boyfriend,”

[generalsdiary]

a stupid bet

gn!reader x Dr. Ratio

part two here

warnings: suggestive themes, kissing, cursing (?)

word count: 10k~

a/n: I don't know which demon possessed me to write a 10k fic about a character that isn't playable yet, istg I need help (the worst thing is I could've written even more, send help + if he is ooc mb he isn't out yet), not beta read (we die like Cocolia), Kavetham's son has me in a chokehold

description: you accept to do a bet to lighten up Dr. Ratio, one of your work colleagues and also a rival, you're not too fond of each other. things take a sharp turn when you do something quite haste to win the bet (could come off as a slower burn fic, rivals to something more?)

It was a bet. Your coworkers were certain no one could do, especially not you but now it fell onto you. To lighten him up.

Rivals of years, you and Veritas Ratio disliked each other for a long time. For some dumb reason, you were stern on doing this bet, the group of them and you stood to the side and you observed him, the way he stood next to his desk with a neutral expression on his face. Knowing your usual relationship, you were doomed to fail so your mind went to at least making him surprised. That should count to something, right?

It is past saving when you walk towards him. "Thought you could help me a bit."

He sighs, already annoyed at you. "What is it?"

Rather clumsily you point to his cheek, no idea what you should do.

He looked at his cheek, then back to you. Your pointing and leaning made him even more annoyed than he already was — he found it amusing that this was your idea of humor.

"Ah, the other one" You try to save yourself

Another sigh. Another glance. There was nothing on the other one either.

"You can't see it-" You mention.

He squints his eyes at you. He doesn't have time for your games. "Why don't you tell me what I'm supposed to see then."

"A crumb," you say simply. "Shall I?" Digging your grave deeper.

He raises a brow. He knew you had a big ego, but he was honestly surprised you really thought he would fall for this. “Sure, go ahead.”

In hopes this would at least catch him off guard, you reach with your hand to move the imaginary crumb, your fingers caressing his cheek and then pulling him in for a kiss.

His eyes widen, surprised, his heartbeat quickening, while he finds you irritating... he also finds you attractive. for some reason.. the kiss continues for a bit, his breath coming out in short gasps. you weren't expecting it to work.

Now you pull back, he is stunned, maybe a tad less irritated at you. You two stare at each other for a moment. The only noise is your heavy breathing, and something is cooking below the surface.

He stares at you for a bit longer, breath coming out in short gasps, as he processes what happened. Then he breaks the stare, his eyes scanning the area — some of your coworkers were watching, and probably laughing. But he didn’t care. At least... he didn’t want to care. He wanted to focus on you. Your eyes met his again, and you could see the blush still present on his cheeks, the warm look in his eyes.

You feel confused in this moment, what are these... feelings... you mentally shrug them off. "uhm... I gotta go-" You walk over to the co-workers to see if this counts as winning the bet.  As you turned to walk over to the observing co-workers, you could sense that his eyes were still watching you.

The acquaintances agreed that you won the bet. But found your way of achieving that interesting, especially since you two dislike each other. They leave and, the space is empty when you return to reading some papers.

After you’ve left, he spends a few moments pondering the event, and then, in an impulsive decision, he decides he wants to find you again. It wasn’t just the bet that he became, later on, aware of, or his wounded ego, that had him wanting to seek you out; he was intrigued by this newfound interaction. He wants to see where it leads.

He finds you sitting at a table. When you notice him approaching, you can feel the gaze of your coworkers. As he reaches you, you can feel their eyes still on you; there are some giggles and laughs in the background. When he speaks, his voice is a tad low. He also appears to be a bit timid, which isn’t the usual for him: “..May I join you?”

"What is it, Veritas?" Your voice was cold, and you look up at him.

He swallows, then glances at some of your co-workers. “I…” Your coworkers are still observing you with curiosity, so he lowers his voice while not looking at them. “... want to talk. To you.”

"We are talking," you say back, your gaze on the papers in your hands. You're dismissive towards him.

He hesitates but pushes on with his request, still keeping his voice low. “.. I want to talk to you in private.”

"Do we have anything to talk about?" you scoff, deeply ignoring the way it felt to kiss him. Chasing those thoughts away. You could see his face change to a microexpression you just about missed as he realized you hadn’t yet picked up on what he hoped for.

“You and I, we..” He hesitates to continue. You’d always been so formal, or irritating, with him. "we.. don’t get along.. usually.”

"We don't. So, leave? Why would we go talk in private?" you say. You knew this was about the bet. This was about the kiss - you chase those thoughts away, no. You will not think about not even for a second how soft- no. Stop. You return to reality. He is talking.

A moment of his hesitation. He lets out a small sigh before speaking again. “...We don’t get along, that’s correct. But..” He gestures to the observers and the whispers and giggles you can still hear in the background.

“...I think we should still talk privately.”

You sigh as well, rolling your eyes, finding his persistent attitude annoying. You stand up from your desk. "Lead the way, Doctor Ratio."

He smiles a bit at your response, and you can feel some hint of amusement.

He turns to lead you away from the others, turning a corner. Just as you begin to turn the corner you hear the observing coworkers make another comment; a girl says something about shipping.

"Private enough"? You ask after walking for a bit, looking around the empty hallway. it isn't a busy one usually.

He stops walking as you do, then looks at you for a moment. Your sarcasm is amusing him. He smiles at you, thinking of what to say. Then he begins to speak, and his facial expression is more relaxed than normal. “...I want to ask you something.”

"Ask." You sigh "What is it, Veritas?"

You could notice your words and attitude irking him, but, surprisingly, you could see him actually relaxing more as he spoke, a smile still plastered on his face. “...What is it that makes us dislike each other so much?”

You quickly answer. "We are both full of ourselves, intelligent, arrogant, and have zero patience for idiots. Is this why you wanted to talk in private- you're wasting my time, Veritas"

That response got a chuckle out of him, and you could tell he agreed with you, based on the way he nodded. A silence falls between you two, and then the silence is broken by him.. “...Have you ever wondered, as much as we are alike... how much we’re also different?” What a nonsensical question.

You are tired of him beating around the bush, so you decide to bring it up. "If this is about the bet- just- you're wasting my time"

Your dismissive attitude made him chuckle as you spoke. He thought about your statement. While the bet was an excuse to talk to you again, he had genuine thoughts in mind. Although, he didn’t let it show. “... It’s not about the bet. I just wanted to talk..”

"Why?"

You could sense the faintest hint of embarrassment in his voice, but otherwise, his expression was relaxed and casual. He says, “... Because I want to get to know you.”

You feel stunned, "...why?" Finding it strange he'd want anything to do with you.

That was the reaction he wanted. Your eyes were wide open, and you were surprised. He kept staring at you. He was aware of how ridiculous this might sound, but he meant it. He wants to know you. He found you irritating, yes, but there was something about you he wanted to explore more.

You shook your head gently, confused. "Veritas- what? Is this because of the-"

He sighs. “..The kiss? No. Yes, it made me think of you differently. But not in the way you seem to think.” He keeps his gaze on you. “The kiss made me realize I want to know you.”

"Why- what do you mean-" you stumbled over your sentences, unlike him. "Veritas- it is obvious you kissed back, no reason to" small exhale, since you were talking too fast "get to know me"

A small smirk appeared at the corners of his lips. “I kissed back, it’s true. But let me ask you something...”

He stares at you for a moment. "What did you feel when we kissed?"

You deadpan. "My emotions aren't your business.“ then you straight up lie. „-only hoping to win the bet.“-

He can’t help but chuckle. You lied, and he knew it; he could just tell from the way you spoke.

He keeps looking at you, the smile still present on his face.

“Do you think I believe it? I doubt you felt nothing while we kissed.”

„Doubt all you freaking want, Veritas“ you roll your eyes, „you can't prove shit“

He looks at you still, grinning now. You can see the amusement in his eyes, and the way he is staring, as if he’s seeing you for the very first time. “You’re right. I can’t prove you felt anything. All I have is my intuition. And my intuition says that you’re lying."

"You can't prove it." you cross your arms across your chest. "Stop these accusations and your 'intuition' is wrong." You sound arrogant, and dismissive, trying to wiggle your way out of the conversation.

He chuckles once more, then he speaks, a bit more directly this time. “My intuition has never done me wrong. You can keep on denying it, acting arrogant—and that’s fine. But I bet you anything that, if I were to kiss you again, a second time, you would kiss me back. Just as passionately as the first time."

"You were the one to kiss passionately the first and only time we kissed." you shake your head "Veritas this is a waste of time- you want to 'get to know' me, oh please" gesturing with your hand.

Even as you speak, he is still laughing. He could tell your pride is wounded.

He keeps a straight, smug face. His words carry no arrogance, but the way he speaks has enough confidence for both of you. “...Then let me prove it to you. Just let me kiss you again.”

You are quiet for a moment too long because you are surprised at his suggestion, and refuse to think again about- "no."

He knows he’s caught you off guard. Your silence is an answer itself. One that just gives him more confidence. He smirks.

„...Afraid?”

„I am a scientist like you, I am not afraid. I kissed you in the first hand. I don't need to prove anything“

He chuckles. “You’re absolutely right, you don’t need to prove anything. Except you kissed me for the sake of a bet. But I kissed you for the sake of understanding you.” He’s still smirking he is planning something, but he keeps his gaze on you. “..And I bet the kiss meant more for you than you care to admit.” There's a knowing look in his eyes.

"You didn't kiss me, why are you talking in the past tense?" you scoff when he attempts to change the situation around.

He raises his brow, slightly impressed, and shrugs. “..Alright, you’re right. Let me change that.”

Without breaking eye contact, he reaches out and pulls your face toward his. You could feel his warm breath on your face as he stared at you for a second or two, and just when it felt as though he would actually kiss you again. Completely surprised you gasp at the sudden proximity.

You can tell he’s enjoying the moment, since he leans in just a tad more, just enough for your lips to almost touch; his breath is hot and heavy, and his eyes still keep locking with yours as he waits.

It takes you a moment to place your hands on his chest and push him away. "Veritas, stop these foolish actions." You feel flustered at his advances.

He lets out an amused chuckle and steps slightly away. Though he has stopped his action, he is still smiling—which he knows is annoying for you to see. He still has a smirk and speaks. “..Do you think this was foolish of me?” There's something calculated in his voice.

"You won't prove anything and the one and only kiss that happened happened cos of the bet. Nothing more"

He keeps his smirk. “..Then how do you explain the chemistry between us? It’s all there, whether you’d like to admit it or not.” The neverending banter between the two scientists continues, both two proud to be that vulnerable with the other or to even take the other seriously.

"Screw chemistry. We dislike each other. And you pulled me away from my work to chat privately 'cos you wish to get to know me better? And now you wanna prove to me that I'm wrong by wanting to kiss me again? waste of my time-" you puff, you didn't even get a chance to think about the kiss today, and this isn't the moment to think about that. You can see the smirk fall for a second when you begin speaking, but then he smiles again. There is clearly something you aren't telling him.

He listens to your rant, and it only furthers his conviction. “..I agree, we do dislike each other. But that doesn't mean there can't be anything else. There are layers to dislike, and to liking someone.” He pauses. “..I want to see those layers.”

You roll your eyes „What I felt during the kiss is hope to win the bet that's it.“

He chuckles and speaks right away. “...Fine, I'll pretend to believe you, and not the way your face flushes as you speak. I'll pretend I don't feel the tension between us. And, I'll pretend that I don't want to kiss you again.” He takes a step forward and leans in again. “..And if you’re sure you didn't feel anything, then you shouldn’t care if I kiss you again. Because then, there's nothing to hide, right?”

"Well- no- maybe I don't want to be touched or something" you sigh, your brain just now processing the information. "you want to kiss me again?" the soft blush creeps up your cheeks. He wants to kiss you again? You don't know what to think, or feel about that, and this isn't the time to process that either.

His smirk grew as you spoke. “Or, maybe you don’t want to be touched because you’ll feel something. If there’s nothing to hide, then there’s nothing to refuse. Just let me kiss you once more, just to prove that you’re lying to me.”

„I'm not lying.“ You crossed your arms.

He smirks once more, and a hint of satisfaction crosses his face.

“Then let me kiss you. Why refuse, if you believe that all it was is only a bet? I want to kiss you to prove you are lying about not caring about the kiss. I want to kiss you to prove you are lying when you claim to have felt nothing, that it didn't feel good. So it isn’t about winning, isn’t it..? It’s about you being embarrassed at how much the kiss felt good to you.”

„Why are you so needy about wanting to kiss me- we dislike each other-„ you hush your voice as a coworker passes by, you two were still standing in the hallway. „-and no point for me to kiss you to prove a point. I'm above that.“

He follows your movement and lowers his voice to match yours. “...The reason I’m so adamant about wanting this kiss, is because I think we’ll have a revelation. I know we dislike each other, but..” He pauses for a moment. “...But there’s more to us than that. So come on, if you don’t have anything to hide, kiss me again. No one else is watching.”

„No“ you stand your ground „I don't need to prove it, Veritas“ Your pride wouldn't let you do anything less than stand your ground.

He chuckles at your stubbornness. “...I have to give you credit for that, it’s admirable. But I’ll keep on trying until it works.” Still keeping his voice low, he speaks once more. “...Kiss me. Please.”

He sees your stern gaze falter when he asks so blatantly and also says please.

„My emotions during what I did for the bet are none of your business-„ Your voice getting hushed as another coworker passes by „-Veritas.“

He takes that small sign of weakness and uses it as an advantage, leaning towards you a bit. His breath is still hot on your face, and you can see his smirk grow wider. He speaks, with an amused, almost teasing tone of voice. “..Are you refusing to kiss me so adamantly because you might actually enjoy it? Because you have emotions you don’t want me to know about?”

You sigh. „Veritas- cmon, this is pointless at this point.“

He keeps leaning closer to you, and he speaks while still teasing you. “..Well, you keep denying everything I said about you. You keep insisting that you only kissed me for the bet. So then, prove it and kiss me again—and feel nothing. Prove it right now.”

„I'm tired of this, Veritas.“ you sigh. Even in your apparent exhaustion, he feels the tension in your voice, the small crackle of doubt and curiosity in your words. Again, he speaks as he keeps leaning in, his breath still hot on your face.

“...Just one more kiss. To prove you're telling the truth. Then nothing else.”

„To shut you up, fine“ When your lips meet, you are doing your best to not move them in the beginning, to not touch him, and to stay fully still.

And you do, at first, stay fully still. Your lips are warm, and you can feel him leaning in more and more, but you refuse to do anything in return.

After some time, however, you feel a shift. With his movements, he’s now coaxing you. He pulls you towards him a bit more, his breath is still warm, and he’s now kissing you, softly but passionately, as he wants you to kiss back... He notices how you aren't budging putting on a good performance of not feeling anything. He wants to see more of a response, and he begins to nudge you to see how you would react. He places his hands on either side of your face and continues the kiss. He wants to see you lose control, instead of being this disciplined. He wants you to feel passion.

His hands actually touching your face almost makes you lose your focus, but not quite. He can feel you start to crack under pressure. It’s almost cute to watch you struggle. He decides to test his theory; he begins pulling you against himself, your bodies now pressed against each other. One arm wraps around your waist.

When you feel him pull you closer the focus breaks, your lips depart and you return the kiss, the kiss itself turning longer. Not even caring when a coworker passes by, your eyes are closed.

He can feel you responding to him finally, instead of trying to prove a point. Your eyes are closed, you’re no longer trying to hold back. His fingers trace your cheek as he keeps pulling you even closer so that your bodies are now up against each other.

Your back against a wall and he pressed against you, your hand traveling up to rest on his chest as the kiss kept going, turning more passionate

You can feel him press himself against you, and he wraps his other arm around your back; both his arms are now on you. He is taking charge and is leading the kiss. His fingers move from your cheek to your hair, as he pulls on it, and keeps the passion steady. His hands, your lips, his body pressed against your back... Everything feels so close and so warm... It’s as though no one or anything else exists except for you two.

And it feels good.. the kiss feels good for the both of you, each touch, you both feel the slow burn in your lungs for air, but keep kissing.

It feels extremely good. To feel your lips against his, to feel the heat and passion that keeps growing. Your arms around him, his arms around you. The feeling of your warm body against his body. The slow burn in your lungs, yet wanting more and more... The only sound that continues to play is just the sound of you both slowly breathing together, as your lips continue to lock together. Each touch brings in more and more passion...

You pull away, leaning his head against a wall to breathe. Your lips are swollen slightly as you breathe heavily.

Veritas pulls away as well and leans back from the kiss with a smirk. His lips were also plump, and swollen. Your breathing is heavy and quick, and he can see that your cheeks are slightly red. He seems slightly pleased and looks at you with that same teasing, smug smile.

„Proves nothing“ you deny it immediately.

His chuckle grows louder. “..You really hate admitting you enjoyed it, don't you? Even now, even after the long kiss. So much denial. So many excuses.”

„Tsk, you proved nothing. I'm just a good kisser that's all“

He laughs at your continued denial. “..You sound like a child now. Good kisser, who are you trying to fool? I saw your breathing and your expressions. I felt you getting more and more into it until the kiss became passionate. You’re denying the truth now just because you don't want to admit it.”

„There's nothing to admit except that we dislike each other, Veritas.“

“If there’s nothing to admit then there's no problem if I kiss you one more time, right?” He begins to lean in towards you and raises his brows as he waits for a response.

„What for?“ you protest, but the protest is much smaller than when he wanted to kiss you the last time. You can see his amused smirk form again, but he keeps his demeanor calm as he replies.

“..For the last time. To really get proof from you that the kiss meant nothing. A long, slow kiss, where you can’t deny anything. Surely you won’t say no to another kiss from a good kisser like me, now will you?”

„You have your proof, Veritas!“ He whispers it loudly as someone passes by.

His smirk grows wider, and he leans even closer this time. You can see the amusement in his eyes as he speaks in the same tone as you. “...There’s obviously still something missing. If you’re going to insist that the kiss meant nothing and that you have nothing to prove, then you must have no problem if I give you one last kiss.”

„You got enough of my lips today.“ You raise your chin, shaking your head gently. He really did… get to kiss you a lot today.

He chuckles at this, and even though he has heard it before, his smile grows wide. The more playful you get in your protests, the more confident he gets in his stance. “Just another one won’t hurt then, right? I mean, after all... you’re the supposed ‘good kisser’ here. And I believe that you’re good enough to kiss me in a way that makes me realize that the kiss meant nothing to you, correct?”

You sigh. „You aren't letting this go?“

He laughs at your sigh. “...Just another kiss to shut me up, that’s all. Come on, it should be easy then. Unless you’re afraid of what might happen?” He leans closer and raises an eyebrow.

„Fine. One last to prove you wrong again. How do you want it this time?“ You question him, annoyed at first sight, sighing.

“..Same as last time. Slow and passionate, with you completely giving in to your feelings. But just one more request this time. Make it longer... I want this kiss to last a little longer than the last one.”

„The last one was too long, and passionate. Why would I repeat it?“

He chuckles and replies, his voice now teasing. “...Do it how I want this time. Make me believe that the last 10 minutes or so was nothing but a game. Prove to me that you’re just a good kisser. Prove it by giving in to me and my kiss. I want to feel all your emotions. I want to make you lose control. So do exactly what I say.”

„I am just a good kisser“ you sigh „Fine, c'mere“ you gesture to him, as you are still leaning on the wall, to come to kiss you.

Veritas seems amused by your continued protest, and his smile grows. But he does do as you say; he begins to close the distance between the two of you until your bodies are once again pressed against each other. You can see the smug smile on his face, knowing he has gained the upper hand in this 'game’. He begins to kiss you, as you requested, and he pulls you into him with his hands on your waist, letting the kiss last longer...

You again try to hold back for a moment, but his hands on your waist relax you... you kiss back.

Veritas feels you relax, and he continues the kiss, using his hands on your waist to pull you even closer to him. His fingers trail up and down your back, and he is now fully embracing you in his lips. He is taking a deep breath in now, as he keeps kissing you. You can feel the heat of your bodies pressed against each other, and feel each of the sighs from your both. This kiss seems like it will never end, and this 'game' is now in another league entirely.

You enjoy the kiss, the soft caressing of his fingers on your body. Your hands go up his torso to hold onto your shirt, one hand moving higher to tangle in his hair.

Your touch causes him to feel something even deeper within himself, something that he hasn't felt in a long time. His passion starts growing more intense the longer the kiss goes, and he can feel you letting yourself go. The heat from your body is so intense, and the scent of his cologne combined with your scent is intoxicating. Your fingers running through his dark blue hair are sending shivers down his spine, and the embrace of his hands around your waist is like a safe shelter around you.

Then you both get lost in the kiss, with no thoughts, or rivalry or who is passing by, just each other's touch and lips. Other thoughts quickly vanish from your mind, and all you can focus on is this kiss. Your bodies are pressed tightly against each other, the heat growing hotter as time goes on. Nothing is more important right now; there's just both of your lips and the two of your bodies. Nothing else exists right now. It feels like the kiss will never end, and it feels so right. The passion is undeniable and unrelenting.

In a moment you separate to breathe, technically where the kiss should've ended, just before he puts his lips on yours again you exhale and whisper his name „Veritas...“ And meet his lips as he kisses you once more.

Your whisper sends a shiver down his spine, and he pulls you closer once more. At this moment, his name is enough. The way you said it so softly, almost in a whisper, is enough.

It doesn't even register to you that your lips separated and started another, until you hear a group of people, about to turn your corner, who are talking. You pull your lips away, leaning away from him, your head leaning onto a wall, and moving your hands off of him.

It makes you realize just where the two of you are standing. Veritas looks down, slightly embarrassed but you can see the faintest of smiles on his lips. His fingers brush your cheek as you both break the embrace. The lingering scent of his cologne is still heavy in the air, and you can feel the heat of the hug still lingering on your body. You can feel his breath against your cheek.

People pass by, and you don't say anything.

Once you both seem to fully realize the gravity of what just happened, the reality of your situation kicks in. It was an innocent but long kiss, made only longer when you had both decided to keep the whole thing going. The voices of people are louder now, and the two of you are both still breathing heavily and still hot from the heat of the long kiss. The moment is now over, though the scent of his cologne and the lingering taste of the kiss still lingers.

You are preparing yourself for your accusations of lying and that it wasn't just you being a good kisser, you curse yourself for mumbling his name earlier.

There is a moment of silence between the two of you. The noise of people passing by gets ever louder, but it still seems faint to you. The scent of his cologne is still lingering in the air, filling your lungs and your mind. You can feel the breath of his voice against your cheek, as you still feel every inch of the touch from his body that you just experienced.

He looks into your eyes, and for a moment, the silence, the smell of his cologne, and the taste of his kiss are all so intoxicating that it's almost like nothing else exists. Your lips are slightly swollen from his kiss, and there are still some traces of his saliva mixed into your lips.

„Veritas...“ you start, attempting to make up another excuse

He looks at you with a teasing and playful look on his lips. From the expression on his face and the way he's staring at you, it's like he knows he's cornered you now. He smiles at you, and a small twinkles in his eyes. He can't help but chuckle. His look is now mixed with amusement as well because he knows your pride will stop you from admitting anything. He raises one of his eyebrows and waits for you to continue.

When he doesn't interrupt you, like you hoped he would, and then he even smirks and raises an eyebrow...you know you are defeated, you can't make a truthful excuse, caught red-handed… you turn away from him, lightly hitting the wall with your hand and resting your head against it and he can hear you mumble a quiet „... shit“

Veritas’s smirk grows wider as he looks at the defeated look on your face. You still refuse to actually speak, and he can’t help but feel amused at the realization that your pride is completely keeping you from admitting what is obvious. He knows that all he has to do now is let the silence set in. The silence in itself and your attitude towards him makes it obvious.

You turn back around and face him again, and the exact moment you meet his eyes you look elsewhere.

He laughs quietly as he stares at you. Your blush is bright, and your face is slightly red, which is why the first thing you do after turning back around is to avoid eye contact. He can't help but smirk at this, and he can't stop himself from speaking. "Can't look at me anymore, can you? Am I that captivating?"

„You're like… average“ you scoff, not looking at him still. Which almost makes you laugh but you manage to hold it in, the lie too obvious as you say it aloud.

He scoffs, not able to hide his amusement. He knows damn well he's not average. He can see that you know he's not 'average' as well.  "You want me to take that as a way of you finally admitting that you let yourself enjoy that kiss? Or is this still some desperate attempt to play it off as nothing?"

„Veritas please stop this torture.“ You complain.

He laughs softly for a moment and then sighs. There is a moment of silence again, as he stares at you. "I think I've made this painful enough. If you just admit the kiss meant something to you too, then the 'torture' will stop. Do you want that?"

You nod „Fine. It is rather obvious now.“

His whole demeanor shifts immediately. His mischievous grin that was playing on his lips immediately turned into a soft, genuine smile. He can see that the game has ended and that now he is talking to the real you, the one who let themselves get carried away with that kiss. He has a look of affection that he had been hiding behind the disguise of mockery.

You aren't meeting his gaze, arms crossed, lips swollen, cheeks blushed... and if someone were to come close enough they'd smell the two different scents… your perfume and his cologne.

He chuckles because he sees that you still can't quite meet his gaze just yet. He stares at your lips for a moment, thinking of that kiss and just how intense it all seemed. The scents of both your perfumes are still lingering in the air, and for a moment, you feel like you're still locked in that kiss.

„Fine. Fine. Fine.“ you sigh „Bet was the bet, nothing special, earlier today. I- then- just- didn't expect you to kiss back. I didn't feel anything special.“ And yet later on now... you have kissed three more times.

He laughs softly, knowing exactly how wrong your entire statement was. Both of you know it. It's obvious that you actually cared enough to play this 'game' with him, and you felt enough to get lost in that kiss. He can spot the hesitation in your eyes, the way you avoided your gaze, and the stutter in your words. But he still can't help but tease you. "Is that right? If you felt nothing special, then why did you let it go on for so much longer than it had to? And why the second kiss? And... the third one?"

„No, I meant the bet… was nothing special. Well.. mostly“ Your honesty is a double-edged sword.

That answer alone tells him everything that he needs to know. "Mostly? And what was the rest of it then? Were the other kisses something special for you? Or are you just gonna say they were just you being a good kisser?" He scoffs quietly.

„The bet one... I didn't expect you to kiss back- I kissed you just cos of the bet- to "lighten" you up, and then you returned the kiss.. and that was... surprising.. and then you wanted to chat in private and requested kisses to prove a point.“

He sighs silently, hearing your explanation. He can feel that your words are just excuses, that the kisses still mean more to you than you let on. The more you say, the more he smiles. It's clear that you actually want to continue this flirtation, even if you might not want to admit it. "Is that so? Because it seemed as if it meant something even during our bet... and the whole conversation we had in private. It all meant something to you, didn't it?"

„I think it was obvious I'm too deep in to make excuses after the last one- remember I turned around, punched the wall- I had nothing to say- why are you pushing this?“

A soft smile spreads across his face, and he chuckles. He can see that this flirtatious exchange has gone far beyond a simple game of proving a point. There's something about you that simply has pulled him in completely, something that he just cannot help but tease and flirt with. He's now just enjoying it and enjoying you as well. "I'm pushing this because I want to see you admit more about your feelings. And... I like teasing and flirting with you. Because it feels so damn good just being around you."

„Since when do you feel good being around me? We dislike each other. I...“ Your words are honest, „I don't know why it felt so good..“

He laughs softly, amused again that you refuse to actually see what you're feeling now. "We dislike each other, huh? So that was what our conversation was then... A long, intimate debate about how much we dislike each other. And that whole kiss, just a simple game of me teasing you. And this too."

His soft laugh is filled with a teasing tone, as he begins to lean closer and brush his nose against yours.

You sigh „Veritas... it appears to be... complicated“

He hums, as he leans in closer. His words are softer now, as he speaks with that same teasing, playful voice. "Complicated, huh? How complicated? Are you starting to admit to yourself that you feel something between us?"

„I can admit. But I do not know what it is, I only found out today and so did you, unless you're hiding something from me?“ You speak quietly.

Your quietness only sparks him even more, as he continues to stay just a few inches away from your lips and your face. He looks at you with that mischievous smirk on his face, as he can sense your confusion. "So does that mean the kisses were not just meaningless flirts then? Because from my perspective, you seemed to be enjoying it a lot. I'm not hiding anything. Also realized today."

„You enjoyed them too.“ You softly say.

His smirk grows wider; he can't help but love the teasing moments like this. Both of them enjoy these little flirts, but neither wants to be the first to just admit their feelings. "You... you're right. I enjoyed the hell out of every kiss. It was intense, it was passionate... and I couldn't help but get completely lost in it."

You look into the distance recalling the way it all felt... You zone out for a couple of moments.

He hums, sensing that the two of you are now getting more serious. Neither of you can deny the chemistry between you both, and that has only grown the more the two of you have kissed. He can see how much your thoughts are wandering now, and he loves that he has you this speechless, filled with so much emotion, and yet so clueless about how you're feeling. This is the most vulnerable that you have looked at so far, and he wants to keep it that way...

He moves closer now, getting just inches away from your face. He can smell your cologne and the air that is filled with both of your scents. The air feels so heavy and so full of emotions, where every inch of you feels so close in his presence. His voice is soft, and he begins to speak softly, almost in a whisper. "If you truly do want us to end this little game of back and forth... then you can just admit it now. Say the words, just say how these kisses meant something to you."

„I already did, Veritas“ you sigh.

His smirk grows and he nods his head, his eyes still staring right at you. The silence at that moment makes the feeling all the more intense, and even just being so close to one another felt so intoxicating. The quietness of his words had you feeling nervous, feeling excited all over again, and yet even that moment felt so real and...so honest. "I know you've been hinting at it....“

„The kiss felt good, you felt good.“

"Good? You felt good, I felt good... but is that it? Is that just the full story? Because I have a feeling that there's more."

You roll your eyes „Veritas Ratio, I won't repeat myself.“

The teasing moments that had made him feel so intoxicated earlier have suddenly turned into something else... something deeper. It felt as if the two of them were not playing games but expressing their honesty. He leans even closer now, as close as he can possibly get without actually touching your lips. "How about a deal, then? I will stop pushing you to admit how you've felt... if you say one more thing that you haven't said yet."

You meet his eyes „What is it?“

He lets the silence settle and linger for a moment, as he stares at you with that same, mischievous grin on his face. He can sense that this is finally getting far more serious, and that has his attention completely drawn in. He leans in even closer until he is practically touching your lips with his own, he's so close. "Tell me what made you enjoy every single one of our kisses... and just how much you actually have enjoyed me."

„Those are stupid questions, Veritas“ you scoff quietly due to close proximity. He is just trying to tease at this point.

He chuckles softly at the scoff, his eyes narrowing, but still holding that same mischievous grin on his lips. The proximity feels intense, the closeness of their faces, the heat coming from either of them, the two of them being so close that their bodies are almost touching. "But I don't think they're stupid at all. I don't think they're stupid because I want to hear each word from your lips, each and every reason as to why you've liked our kisses so far."

„How about you talk a bit about why you wanted to kiss me and your assumed feelings?“

His smirk grows wider, and a soft laugh exits his lips. You can sense the amusement in him still, but he also takes another look at you. He sighs and nods, and he looks away from you and speaks truthfully. "Why did I want to kiss you? Why did I enjoy them? The same reason as you, I think. Which is... because my emotions have been completely tied up around you. I want that closeness, I want that intimacy. That was the whole reason why I even continued flirting with you..."

You sigh, seemingly lost in thought, but if he asked you to look at him, he'd also see that you are smitten. Seeing that you are lost in thought, he doesn't say a word. You can see the expression of amusement on his face slowly fading, and being replaced with a more affectionate look and expression. He seems to sense the truth in your thoughts and the way your words have suddenly become more honest. You feel like if you asked him to look at you, the same expression of endearment would fill his eyes.

The kisses make your confused feelings bare, naked, vulnerable in front of him. You for some reason like him. And now you wait as to what he will do.

It's as if this unspoken understanding has been fully created between you both. You both seem to sense how deep these moments have become for one another, and it doesn't even need verbal words for you two to sense just how much these kisses really mean to you both. For the first time, you have fully revealed your emotions to one another.

All he can do is sigh, and he begins to speak softly again, the tease of a flirt just completely replaced by that of a heartfelt, affectionate moment. "It's true that these kisses felt good because I felt like I could finally express my emotions toward you. These kisses felt good because the whole reason I've been flirting with you is that... I've felt...this deep connection with you that I can't explain. This connection, I've wanted it to be more... I've wanted to be closer with you. And... all these kisses just felt so good because... because I've just wanted nothing but to be with you. Well, I only realized it recently."

„I'm surprised that we discovered this... after disliking each other for years up until this day.“

"We've finally discovered it, and I'm not surprised that neither one of us has admitted it earlier today. We've always been so stuck in this game of hatred that we've missed out on...something amazing. I guess you could say that we've played this game too long, and so it took a few kisses to finally start seeing just how wrong we both were."

You nod „Gods-„ you put your head into your hands „The rumors will be awful“ You remember hearing footsteps during the last kiss.

He sighs softly, as he places his hands onto the back of your head and gently begins to brush your hair with his fingers. It was true that the rumors were something you two would have to face, he felt like it would somehow be worth it. "Do you think we should really care about the rumors though? There's always going to be rumors, and this is one that you and I know is true. So, let them talk, but let us focus on what is really important."

You look up at him „Veritas...“

He grins softly, as he sees that your gaze has now met his. He feels so happy as if he can finally be honest with you at this moment. The rumors may spread, but you feel as if that would be a small price to pay for what it would be worth. "Yes?"

You just sigh softly.

He hums, as his hand begins to brush your chin, which leads him to gently stroke your cheek. The way you sighed so softly made him feel so...so warm and happy. You both were finally seeing the full truth of your feelings, and it felt as if everything bad in the world was melting away.

„We gotta go back to work...“ As your words break the silence of that tender moment, his smile fades away, and he sighs. It was true that all this was happening during working hours, and the both of you had been gone for a while already. "You're right, isn't it late already? We've been gone for too long..."

„Too long yes...“

He nods and pulls his hand away. "Yeah... we've both been gone too long. So, should we... should we go back before they notice?“

„Oh trust, they have noticed“

He chuckles softly, as he nods again. "Yeah, you're right about that. I'm just more surprised they hadn't come to check up on us yet."

„They wouldn't dare. They probably thought we were fighting… but the rumors will start soon.“

He nods. "They probably did. But you're right, rumors will definitely start spreading soon. I wonder what would they say about us though... about how far we went... about what we could have been doing in this hallway..."

You laugh „Ah yes“ in a mocking tone „Rumor spreads about Doctor Ratio and the lead researcher, long hated rivals seen making out in a hallway“

His smirk grows, as he chuckles softly, too. Your words seem hilarious, and yet they are also a bit...a bit too true. He can see that he would definitely not be surprised if this was suddenly the newest rumor around the office, with many, many different versions and details. "Lead researcher and hated rival found together... making out in a private room... for at least an hour. The rumors will probably even mention how long our kiss lasted, and just how much we wanted it to continue."

„Oh stop it“ you gesture as you two walk slowly back, just at the mention of the kiss you remember how good it felt.

He laughs softly and follows along, also remembering the kiss but feeling how it has made him more affectionate. He reaches his free hand over and rubs your shoulder, his touch feeling affectionate. "You know it's true. The way you feel, the way I feel, and the way they will now interpret what's going on. If I'm being honest."

You sigh „Probably “ you stop for a moment, closing your eyes in the memory of the kiss, his cologne taking you back.

He stops alongside you, as he smiles. He can't help but look at the way you have just closed your eyes as if you can picture the moments clearly and as if the kiss has become a core memory for you. He doesn't say a word, not even wanting to break that peaceful silence.

„Sorry-„ you open your eyes, realizing you stopped walking, giving him the perfect opportunity for him to also seize this moment and do it again. This time, he takes advantage of that moment, and he begins to lean in again cupping your cheek, his lips now almost touching yours. He holds his breath, his body beginning to lean towards you all on its own. He stops for just a moment, only a breath's distance away from your lips before he leans just a bit closer...

„Veritas-„ you speak his name.

Your words have become the trigger for this kiss, one that you will never forget and will always cherish. As he hears his name called, all those emotions inside of him suddenly begin to boil up. Your voice... the way you call his name has so much depth and feeling in it. The feeling of you saying his name is what sends him off the edge, as his mouth instantly meets yours...

You return it immediately, no longer pretending at the beginning of the kisses.

The two of you have finally let the kiss take over, as you return the passionate gesture in kind. Your kiss is no longer filled with the awkwardness or the tease of the flirt, it has become something passionate and almost...something more. Your voices may have spoken about how far you feel from one another, but the kiss you two had just shared speaks for itself, and it says so much more than words have ever could.

Your hand travels up to his hair pulling your lips closer.

He can't help but gasp as a loud moan escapes his lips, and the feeling of having his hair pulled fills him with even more energy. Your touch feels just the right amount of rough and soft, as he leans into that pull and meets your lips even further. That pull in his hair seems to have added just that little bit of spice to this passionate, energetic kiss.

You're surprised with his loud noise, and quickly swallow his moan with your lips, drowning the sound from anyone who may hear it.

The way you had instantly swallowed your moans had only brought him to moan even louder. This was more than just a simple kiss, this was an intense, passionate kiss. One that was completely out of control and only getting worse. It was exactly how this kiss should be, and he can't help but moan even louder in response, and he only pulls you in even closer now. You whine softly when he pulls you closer, you think how he will just get you both in trouble by being that loud. Truly a menace with the way he keeps making lewd noises.

He laughs quietly now, a soft and almost teasing laugh, as he pulls back for just a moment just to speak. "You know you like it when I pull you in this close. I can hear you whining, and it sounds so damn good."

„Did you have to moan- three times?“ you scold him, whispering.

He smirks at your scornful and seductive tone. "I mean...I could have just groaned once. That would have been enough for the effect, right?"

You stop your movements, your brain trying to imagine how his groaning would sound... you lean onto the wall behind you „Fuck... d- don't give my head ideas to imagine.“

He laughs at your reaction, a soft and teasing laugh once more. To you, he seems to have this way of making you feel both embarrassed and intrigued. This time is no different, as he leans just close enough so that he can whisper into your ear. "Don't worry my dear, now I have you picturing all sorts of things in your head..."

You whisper back „Fuck off“ And then you add „Don't you dare groan in my ear or I swear-„

He only laughs again, a bit more playfully this time. And then he whispers closely to your ear. "Just imagine me just groaning into your ear right now. It's almost as if I can hear your heart racing with that thought, it's so loud..."

„Veritas“ you warn „Don't you dare“ You feel like the energy and tension between you two is high now, and those types of noises would do some things to the both of you.

Instead of listening to your warning, he only leans in even further, to the point where he is whispering mere inches away from your ear. "Come on now, imagine the deep and sexy groan, the way my body almost presses into you. There's no denying this connection between us, dear..." The small nickname makes you smile.

You keep imagining, but you fear he'd actually groan on purpose which makes your knees weak. He senses your weakness, and so he whispers once more. "I could start to groan at any second now, and that thought alone probably makes you feel weak and weak in the knees. I bet that the thought of me just slowly groaning into your ear, sensually, makes your heart race with desire..."

You whisper back „Fuck off Veritas“ He is teasing at this point.

He laughs, and then he whispers back. "Why? You're thinking about it, aren't you? The thought of a deep, loud, sensual groan? The idea of it almost pushes you to your limits... to just let yourself become so overtaken by that feeling of desire..."

„I have to return to work you menace-„ you whisper.

"Oh, I see. You're back to just calling me names. I suppose that means I really am driving you crazy, am I?" He whispers, teasingly, as he then adds. "And what is it that will happen if I keep whispering things into your ear? Will you suddenly explode from too much desire? Or will you just be too embarrassed?"

„Veritas“ you warn sternly.

He sighs, as he finally leans away, back to his original distance from you. Instead of laughing back at you this time, he simply chuckles and gives a playful smirk. "Is that a warning? I didn't realize I had such an effect on you. Do I need to stop with my playful flirting, my dear?"

„We will see how you behave when I threaten you with such a noise- except you didn't actually make the noise“  Speaking normally now. And you're right… but maybe you should raise the stakes… play this game.

That sudden change to your volume has brought out a soft and teasing grin on his face. "Oh, so now you're going to threaten me with noises that you're going to make? I suppose then I'll have to threaten you on the sound of kisses. Because it is your lips that I keep on imagining, and it only makes my imagination run wild as I remember that sweet and sensual kiss..."

„Hm“ you tilt your head, smirking, then lean in to whisper „Imagine just us laying on the bed... wouldn't it be so nice the way I would moan your name, Veritas? wouldn't it sound so good?“ Then you actually moan into his ear just to tease him back and drive him insane.

He laughs softly as he feels the moan against his ear. He can feel some chills run down his spine, as his body begins to shiver a bit, too. It seemed this moan of yours...this moan that was now echoing in his ears...it was beginning to drive him absolutely insane. He was finding it easier and easier to picture the two of you lying on the bed together, and your moans suddenly felt all too real now.

You left him standing there with his thoughts, he seemed zoned out as you are now walking a tad further ahead.

He sighs as he begins to follow you as well. It seemed that the flirting was a bit too much to think about right now. However, he is curious about one thing.

"Just one question, my dear. How many kisses did we even share just now? How much time was dedicated to only kissing one another? We've kissed many times during the day, but this one...this one felt so real.“

You say simply. „5“

His eyes widen, as he listens to your answer. He's surprised to hear such a high number. There were indeed several kisses in their conversation, but did time seem to have really been that fast with each kiss? "Five kisses...wow. Really? I guess when two people who have such high intellect and intelligence, time does seem to pass us by too often, doesn't it?"

You are soon by your lab doors, slowing down your walking. Once you do arrive at the lab's door, he just stares silently at you for just a moment. He knows that there won't be another moment for flirting today, as work is soon back on the plan of action for both of you. And yet, he can't help but gaze at you for this last moment, this look is filled with affection, admiration, and even a small bit of desire.

„Staring is rude, Veritas~“ You smirk as he stares at you.

He simply chuckles, as he continues to stare even after you speak. "Staring at you... staring at you can never be rude. You are like a picture - a rare artwork that everyone should appreciate, look at, and examine. The only thing that is rude about staring is that I can't do it all the time. Your beauty should always be on full display for others to gaze at in awe."

You laugh softly „I'm more of a need-only-one-person-in-my-life type of person“

"I am not one to argue on that. Although I am curious to know what I am that makes you want only me. Is it my voice? My looks? My personality? Or something else that has kept you on a leash?" He smirks, his stare still not changing one bit.

„Go work, Veritas“ you smirk entering your lab, not answering to his assumption that you only want him. But it was a correct assumption. Refusing to also answer to his remark of being kept on a leash. You can only laugh to yourself at his words.

He smiles, and then he rolls his eyes, but there is no true annoyance behind this gesture. Instead, it's more humorous now. "Fine, I got work to do too. Just remember, you're not getting rid of me that easily." He then waves his hand back at you, before heading off to his own lab to finish his work.

[neil-gaiman]

Dear Neil,

I hope you're fine!

In 2023 one of the nicest and reveberating thing, that happened to me, was, that I got know Terry's work and after some time, your works too, and, of course Good Omens (yeah...I don't know either, what took me so long...😉).

So, thank you so much for your written universe, I feel totally comfortable in it!

Some time ago, I also got your rewriting of the fairytale "Hänsel and Gretel" by the Brothers Grimm in my hands. I totally like how you made it your own in some way, but also did not disregard its core about wits, endurance, gumption and love. And I have high standards😊, because I grew up with all the Grimm's fairytales and I, even as a small kid, disliked the editions, which tried to paint over fear, sorrow and in some tales, violence and horror, too. Without these plots the solution in the end would just be half the relìef! As you said in your review about Tatars The Annotaited Brothers Grimm the fairtyales are magic mirrors about the world we see or we want to see and which we have to cope and deal with every day.

My three favourite ones are

1.Die Bremer Stadtmusikanten/The Town Musicians of Bremen

Even if your closest people tell you, you are not enough (anymore), you don't fit in and you are worthless, you one day, will find your bunch of soulmates, who are good for you and you can the hell Rock'n Roll with!

2. Die sieben Raben/The seven Ravens

The girl does not wait for some Prince Charming. She herself gets stuff done and does not get herself haunted by some mistakes her parents did years ago.

3. Das tapfere Schneiderlein/The valiant dressmaker

Sometimes weird and spontanous decision can turn your whole life around, in a good way, because they give you the self-consciousness to get it on.

And (finally, sorry) here come my questions:

1. Which are your favourite fairytales of the Brothers Grimm?

2. And why?

I wish you and your family a very merry Christmas, or holidays, and a very good year!

Have fun with Good Omens 3! ❤🌠

Greetings from Germany!

I like your choices, although I'd swap Hansel and Gretel for the Musicians of Bremen.

[daeneryseastar]

i think the biggest problem i have with the whole team discourse in f&b + hotd is that it isn’t just about which characters you like more/who you want to sit on the throne at that end; it’s that each side is fighting for completely different ideologies, regardless of one members personal beliefs. grrm could not have made it anymore clear.

team black isn’t just fighting for rhaenyra to be queen, they’re fighting for the monarch’s right to choose an heir, for the oaths they swore years before, for the complete opposite of precedent/tradition: the king’s word is law. team green isn’t just fighting for aegon to be king, they’re fighting for tradition, that no matter the words of a king being law sons will always come before daughters, that oaths are fickle and don’t matter. each side is in some way fighting back against what’s already been established for the kingdom, but the end goal is completely different.

we’re not given as much insight into why most of the houses initially sided with rhaenyra, but we do have an inkling into how the green council felt and acted, however. jaehaerys choosing baelon over rhaenys (against andal tradition, the king can choose his heir) is one point. the great council of 101 is another. alicent, despite being the leader of the council, is removed from the equation and shoved off to the side when it comes to swearing oaths of loyalty between the members on account of her womanhood. daemon being a second coming of ‘maegor’ (despite what we know would be a better suited title for aemond, but i digress) is also used. when discussing who would side with them the vale is automatically disqualified from the list, due to them presently being ruled by a woman, jeyne arryn. she doesn’t choose to fight for rhaenyra for the sole reason of them being kin, but because her own right to rule can and will be put into question if aegon steps over rhaenyra. because she is a woman. she does so in spite of her dislike for daemon (and his supposed maegor-ness) too.

even if one were to look at each characters personal feelings about the succession the fact of the matter is that rhaenyra is usurped because she is a woman. it’s stated almost blatantly multiple times before and during the war. the greens use scapegoats and smokescreens in attempts justify it (her ‘bastards’ chief among them, but legally her sons live and die as the trueborn children between her and laenor, with the reminder that septon eustace refutes this claim to begin with). even when she is killed grrm has her breast pricked to arouse a dragon that doesn’t want to kill her (and why is that?). aegon ‘wins’ against her and is king, but then why is jaehaera, as his last living remaining child not named his heir? why is aegon iii put ahead of her, despite being the enemies son? these are rhetorical questions. aegon had no plans to ever consider her his heir, he made it clear with how excited he was to marry cassandra baratheon and produce more ‘strong’ sons. his dragon (who had fought and bled for him the entire war) wasn’t mourned properly, he couldn’t wait to hatch a ‘new dragon, prouder and fiercer than the last.’ yet he wasn’t even capable of doing that in the six months before he too was killed.

it’s also safe to mention that grrm created an entire separate lore story, one that would seem to have no bearing on the original story unless you’re capable of understanding symbolism. the amethyst empress is usurped by her younger brother the bloodstone emperor, and the first long night ensues from this decision. rhaenyra (amethyst = arryn blue + targaryen red) is usurped by her younger brother aegon ii (bloodstone = hightower green + targaryen red) and the dying of the dragons, the very creatures needed to stop the next long night, are eradicated, along with the magic needed to hatch them and keep them alive (until). the war is the blacks (power, death, grief, rebellion, restraint) versus the greens (ambition, greed, jealousy, anger, wealth). the amethyst empress is important to the main story in the same way that rhaenyra is important, that snubbing the women (an integral aspect to the power the targaryens held) of house targaryen can lead only to disaster. daenerys is the key, the one to break the cycle and fix the wrongdoings caused by her ancestors obsession with power. mother of dragons, mhysa, breaker of chains, slayer of lies, daughter of death, the dragon queen, azor ahai come again, the prince that was promised will bring the dawn.

you can argue for technicalities sake all day, but there is a meaning to this story beyond the scope of rightful heirs. and it shouldn’t be shoved off to the side just so you can praise your favorites and hate those who go against them. it makes for a poor consuming of the actual story. fire and blood was created as a history book to expand on daenerys as a character. her family, what and where she’s come from, and how she relates to them. she’s the antithesis to every targaryen that’s come before her, a hero in her own right. the only targaryen’s we can say are radically important to dany’s story are the conquerors (aegon the conqueror with teats) and rhaenyra (the amethyst empress). i don’t know, just some food for thought.

edit: i have revised some of my opinions on this through a further reread but the gist of it is still the same.

[violet-shadows]

Moving On (Part One)

⊱ Next Part ⊰

Masterlist

Summary: After loving Azriel in secret for years, you decide it’s time for you to move on. 

Pairing: Azriel x Reader (She/Her)

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: drugging with the implied intent to commit SA, attempted kidnapping

A/N: Thank you for your patience while I took some time away. Hope you like this one. And thank you to the anon who requested this!

⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

The phrase “with age comes wisdom” was true. You had long known better than to compare yourself to other females. The insecurities of youth faded as you came into your own and you learned to stop obsessing over minor flaws and shortcomings. You were a mature, adult female with no need to compare yourself to others’ appearances… except one.

It wasn’t Mor’s fault that she made you question yourself, but sometimes it was difficult not to resent her all the same. Mor was, as everyone knew, beautiful. But she was also magnetic, her ability to charm unmatched. You weren’t the only one that noticed her charisma and therein lay the problem. Azriel’s interest in Mor was his worst-kept secret. Only a fool would spend time around the pair without noticing the too-long glances and subtle blush on a certain shadowsinger’s cheeks. She had ensnared plenty of Fae in her gravitational pull over the years, but none so strongly as Azriel. It was ridiculous for it to irk you so much. Despite your friendship with the Shadowsinger, you had no claim on him and no reason to expect his affection. Still, when you thought of the way he pined after the blonde, and about all the ways you didn’t even compare to Mor, your heart ached. 

The idea of the truth coming to light was mortifying, though, and you knew you’d rather watch him chase after Mor forever than face his rejection. You buried your feelings for the Shadowsinger nearly as soon as you realized them, pushing them down so deep that not even your daemati High Lord would have hope of finding them. So, just as Azriel harbored his affections for Mor in secret, you hid yours, content to be nothing more than his friend if it meant keeping him in your life. You had made peace with the fact that Azriel would never be yours, accepted it, and moved on. Or at least… you thought you had. Then came Elain. 

You were the first to notice Azriel’s fixation with Mor begin to slip. First, his lingering stares became mere glances. Then, he stopped tensing up every time she walked by. The night she mentioned her most recent lover and Azriel didn’t so much as flinch, something like hope bloomed within you. You tried to stop yourself, reasoning that just because he was getting over Mor didn’t mean he was getting into you, but despite your best efforts, your affection for him was reignited once more. That flicker of hope made it all the more crushing when you realized that Azriel’s feelings had not faded, but transferred to another: Elain.

The High Lady’s sister was lovely, with light hair and warm brown eyes reminiscent of the female he had coveted for so many decades. Much like Mor, she was also impossible to hate. A childish part of you wanted to dislike her as if picking her apart might ease the ache within you. But as you got to know Elain, one thing became clear: Azriel had good taste. Even worse? It appeared she returned his affections in equal measure, despite being mated to someone else. You feared it was only a matter of time before the two would go from friends to lovers, and you were struggling to brace yourself for the fallout. 

It was the morning after Starfall when you finally made the decision. After watching Azriel and Elain dance around each other all night, trading warm glances and secret smiles, you knew it was foolish to continue pining. Azriel would never be yours, and it was high time for you to move on. So, the following morning you sought out Mor and made your announcement.

“I’m going to start courting,” you said, striding into the townhouse kitchen the next morning with your best attempt at a smile on your face. Mor nearly choked on her tea, her eyebrows shooting up to her hairline.

“What changed?” she asked, composing herself. She had been trying to convince you to start courting for years, insisting that the males of the Night Court would all but line up for a chance to fall at your feet. You had always brushed her off, too caught up in your feelings for Azriel and skeptical that the pool of suitors was as vast as she claimed. Now, with your heart set on getting over the shadowsinger, there was no one better to find you a distraction. 

“I just think it’s time,” you shrugged, pouring yourself a cup of tea. Mor narrowed her eyes, opening her mouth to argue, but stopped, as if thinking better of it. After studying you for a moment, she nodded, a mischievous smile creeping onto her beautiful face. 

“This is going to be so much fun.”

 ⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

You should have known that Mor would take to the task of finding you a suitor with militant efficiency, but it still surprised you when she announced she had set you up on not one but three dates in the twelve hours that elapsed between your conversation and dinner. It also shouldn’t have surprised you that she would be less than subtle about her task. But alas, you were caught off guard when she gleefully informed you of this development over dinner. Family dinner. In front of everyone. 

“I’ve got three dates lined up so far. First ones tomorrow so you should meet me in the afternoon so I can help you get ready,” she chattered. You were acutely aware of the hush that had fallen over the table. “I think you’re really going to like this guy.” Somewhere to your right, a fork clattered as if someone had dropped it, but you didn’t dare look. 

“Since when do you go on dates?” It was Cassian who broke the silence, and soon you were being inundated with a host of invasive questions from your family. 

“It’s just one date!” You shrugged, feeling your cheeks heat.

“Three dates,” Mor corrected.

“Again,” Cassian said, raising an eyebrow at you from across the table, “Since when do you date?”

“Since now,” You leveled a glare at him. Sure, you hadn’t dated much in the past, but that didn’t mean you never would. He opened his mouth to retort only to be cut off by a sharp jab to the ribs courtesy of Nesta. You shot her a grateful smile. 

“I think that’s wonderful,” Feyre interrupted. “You’ve worked so hard for so long, it’s about time you took some time to enjoy yourself.” You thanked her, no doubt still flushed 

“Whose the male?” Azriel, who had thus far been silent on the matter, startled you with the intensity of his tone. You turned to find him staring at you, his eyes burning with something you couldn’t quite place. 

“None of your business,” Mor replied sweetly, taking a sip of wine. 

“It is my business—” he growled, but you cut him off before he could finish the thought, suddenly indignant. He had no claim to you. He had done well to make that clear.

“It’s really not,” you cut in, trying and failing to keep the venom from your tone. Azriel’s mouth clamped shut and he gave a nod of acquiescence, a cold mask of indifference sliding into place. It made your insides churn with anxiety, but you tamped it down. He had spoiled your love life for long enough, you wouldn’t let him sour what should have been an exciting new experience. “I’ll let you know how it goes, though.”

Rhys cut in, swiftly changing the subject, much to your relief, but you couldn’t help but feel tense for the remainder of the meal. You glanced at Azriel every few minutes, your eyes drawn to his rigid form. Even though he was never much of a talker, his silence felt unusually heavy. By the time the meal finished, you were eager for a moment to yourself. You needed to recenter and remember why you were moving on. He wasn’t yours. He never would be.

You were leaning against the balcony railing when he appeared, clearing his throat to alert you of his presence. You tried to keep your posture relaxed as you turned to greet him, determined to act naturally. In all your years of friendship with Azriel, you never let your feelings impact your relationship. Now shouldn’t be any different, not when you were both pursuing romance with others. “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to pry,” he said, his tone subdued. He joined you at the railing, drink in hand, and you raised an eyebrow. Out of all of you, Azriel was typically the least likely to imbibe. He shrugged at your unspoken question, brushing it off, and you resisted the urge to ask him about it. ‘It’s not my business if he drinks’, you reminded yourself. ‘Not mine.’ 

“It’s fine,” you replied, forcing yourself to relax, “I know you can’t help but stick your nose in things. Curious creatures, you spymasters.” He chuckled and you ignored the butterflies in your stomach, forcing yourself to look away from his handsome features and out towards the night sky glittering over the Sidra.

“What changed?” he asked after a quiet moment. You didn’t turn to look at him, though you could feel his eyes on your face. 

“Things are… peaceful,” you explained. “I figured it’s time to settle down.” 

“Since when do you want to settle down?” Azriel asked, incredulous. You turned to look at him, your eyes meeting molten gold, and for a split second, you contemplated telling him the truth. ‘I’ve never wanted to settle down with anyone… except for you.’

Instead, you swallowed thickly and averted your gaze, “Since now… I’m not a kid anymore, and I don’t want to end up alone.” The last bit slipped out before you could stop yourself and you winced. It sounded so vulnerable when said aloud. Pathetic even. 

“You’ll never be alone,” Azriel said quickly, leaning in slightly. “I would never let you end up alone.” You looked up, meeting his gaze, and your eyes burned with unshed tears. He didn’t mean it the way you wanted him to, and it made your heart ache all the more fiercely.

“I should go,” you murmured, looking down at the drink in your hand. “Thanks, Az.” You walked away then, afraid that if you stayed if you said anything but goodbye, the careful lie you had built up would crumble before your eyes. You needed to keep your feelings buried, now more than ever before, or you feared they might eat you alive.

“Y/N?” Mor intercepted you as you took your leave, her brow furrowed with concern. You swiped at your cheeks, only then realizing that the tears in your eyes had fallen. “You okay?” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you replied, flashing a fake smile. You didn’t give her a chance to question you further, nor did you look back when you felt another set of eyes burning into the back of your head. 

⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

“So? How did it go?” Mor met you back at the townhouse, bouncing on her feet with excitement. You had just returned from your third date of the week and you were starting to feel a bit guilty about your lack of enthusiasm. 

“He was… nice,” you replied, trying and failing to sound optimistic. Mor’s face fell and she sighed. 

“You hated him,” she surmised. 

“No!” You shook your head, desperately trying to come up with a diplomatic way to describe the male. It wasn’t that he was unpleasant, just… bland. “He was nice. And handsome. We just didn’t… click.” 

Mor groaned, “I’m sorry. I really thought this one might be it.” 

You shrugged, kicking off your heels and joining her next to the hearth. None of the dates had been bad, per se. They just weren’t right. They weren’t him. “Maybe it’s not the right time to date.”

“Nonsense,” Mor dismissed with a wave of her hand. “We just need a new strategy.”

“We?” You asked.

“Yes, we. We’re a team here,” she replied. “I’m taking my job as your matchmaker quite seriously.”

“Maybe matchmaking doesn’t work for me,” you mused. Mor furrowed her eyebrows as if deep in thought, then her expression brightened. 

“That’s it!” She exclaimed, jumping up from the sofa. “We just need to have you meet people organically.” 

“How?” you asked.

“Well, the first step is to get you out of this house,” she said, moving to fetch her bag and your coats. “You’re already dressed and the night is still young. We’re going to Rita’s.” You groaned, but before you could protest she was dragging you out the door. 

You had been to Rita’s more times than you could count, most often brought there by Mor and Cass when they were in the mood for a wild night. In fact, it was at Rita’s where your friendship with Azriel was originally forged. Like you, the shadowsinger found the glitz and glamour of the club to be a bit much, preferring to hang back in the shadows and observe, rather than take part in the chaos and revelry. Over the years, the two of you had developed a sense of comradery, sticking together in the booth while the others danced and drank the night away, content to sip wine and exchange witty commentary. When Azriel stopped going to Rita’s in favor of spending time with Elain or working late, you started to decline Mor’s invitations as well. It had been months since you last stepped foot in the building and years since you did it without Azriel at your side. As you walked the streets of Valeris with Mor, you had a feeling tonight was going to be very different than you were used to. 

⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

“Do you ever get tired of it?” you asked Mor, sipping on your third drink as you watched the latest male slink away from your table, his attempts at flirtation politely declined. You were used to Mor drawing a great deal of attention, but tonight it seemed that nearly every male in the city was either staring or attempting to charm their way into your booth. It was somewhat unnerving, being under such close scrutiny. 

“Tired of what?” Mor asked, raising one perfect eyebrow. 

“All the attention you get,” you shrugged, accidentally making eye contact with one of the males watching you from the bar. You blushed, looking down at your drink when he met your gaze with a wink. “I feel like we’re on stage.” 

“You think I’m the one drawing attention?” Mor snorted, shaking her head.

“What do you mean?” You asked, looking down at your outfit. Your dress was perhaps a bit more conservative than the regular club attire, chosen with a romantic date on the Sidra in mind. However, you assumed Mor would tell you if you looked terribly out of place. 

“They’re staring at you,” she explained. “I’m here all the time. You rarely come out, and this is their first chance to see you without your guard dog scaring them off.” 

“Guard dog?” 

“Why do you think males never approach you when we’re here?” she asked. You stared blankly, the alcohol muddling your mind enough to keep you from following. “Think about it. Every time you come here, one of the scariest males in all of Prythian is glued to your side and staring down anyone who breathes in your direction. Why else would you not get approached?” 

You blinked, mind reeling at the revelation. In truth, you had always assumed no one was interested in you, and with your attentions firmly fixed on Azriel, you hadn’t much minded. That was part of the reason you had never put much thought into dating: you didn’t imagine you had that many options. “I just didn’t think anyone was interested.”

“Y/N!” Mor scoffed, her jaw dropping. “That’s ridiculous. I doubt there's anyone in this room who isn’t interested.” You rolled your eyes, opening your mouth to dismiss her hyperbole when she caught sight of something over your shoulder and grinned. “See?” she whispered.

“Hello, ladies.” You turned to see the male from the bar approaching your table, a sly grin on his handsome face. He was tall, though not quite as tall as Azriel, with broad shoulders and sandy brown hair. He had an air of confidence about him that the others so far had lacked, and despite not being exactly what you wanted, he was undeniably attractive. “Can I get you two something to drink?” 

“I was actually just about to go dance,” Mor replied, standing up from the booth. “Keep my friend Y/N company, will you?” The male smiled and nodded, sliding into Mor’s seat before you could interject. Mor shot you a wink before slinking away, leaving you with the handsome stranger. 

“I’m Xavier,” he introduced himself, reaching out as if to shake your hand. When you provided your name, he surprised you by pressing a kiss to your knuckles, the way one might greet a princess. “I’ve seen you here before, but you’re usually with other… company. Are you waiting on them to arrive?” 

“Just Mor and I tonight,” you replied, spotting the last glimpse of your friend’s golden hair as she disappeared into the crowd. Knowing her, it would likely be the last you saw of her for the evening. Part of you wanted to call it a night and leave now that Mor was entertained, but another part, a more rebellious part, was interested in seeing where the night might go. 

“I suppose it’s my lucky night,” Xavier grinned, his eyes trailing up and down your body in a manner a bit too obvious to be polite. He flagged down a waitress then, ordering you both glasses of some fancy wine without consulting you first. It was a stark contrast to your typical experience with Azriel, who, despite memorizing your drink order long ago, always checked to make sure he got you exactly what you wanted. You shook the thought from your head as Xavier began to chatter, regaling you with tales of his travels that were no doubt meant to sound impressive. 

Although the male’s personality was somewhat grating, he relieved you of the burden of making conversation by talking incessantly, and you figured the illusion of company was preferable to sitting alone. Your mind wandered as he spoke, the bitter wine he had selected going down easier by the second glass, and when the waitress returned to fill your glass again, you realized quite a bit of time had slipped by. The crowd on the dancefloor had thinned, and the barbacks were beginning to wipe down empty tables, a sure sign closing time was approaching. You yawned, your limbs feeling heavy as you considered the walk home that was ahead of you. 

“I should go home,” you murmured, your head feeling fuzzier by the second. You hadn’t drunk an exorbitant amount, but the alcohol and late hour must have caught up with you, causing your eyelids to droop. When you tried to stand, the room spun so violently you nearly fell backward into the booth, grasping onto the now quiet Xavier for support. He made an off-color joke about handling your liquor, wrapping his arm around your waist to steady your swaying form. Your limbs felt numb and uncoordinated as if you had just emerged from an ice bath, and you had to cling to Xavier's side in order to exit out a side door of the club.

The cool night air was somewhat sobering, and you were able to orient yourself, turning to head in the direction of the townhouse. To your befuddlement, Xavier continued to herd you down a side street, away from your intended destination. Your garbled protests fell on deaf ears, with the male only tightening his hold on your waist, half dragging you forward through the quiet streets. A creeping feeling of dread began to penetrate your boozy haze, but you struggled to string together a coherent thought, let alone pull yourself free of his grasp. The alertness brought on by the cool breeze was fading, each step growing more difficult than the last. Soon, you were vaguely aware of Xavier slinging your arm around his shoulder, supporting most of your weight as you slumped into his side. “Take me home,” you managed to slur, your head lulling forward despite your best efforts to remain aware of your surroundings. 

Xavier didn’t bother with a response, continuing to lead you further into an unfamiliar part of the city. The numbness in your limbs worsened, and when your legs finally buckled, he swept you into a bridal carry. You pawed at his chest, trying to demand you be set down, but your arms wouldn’t obey and your tongue felt too large in your mouth. Instead, you groan incoherently, flailing weakly in his arms. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew you were in grave danger, but without the cooperation of your body, you were but a passive observer at the mercy of this stranger. Just as tears began to slip free and trail down your cheeks, a deep growl broke through the quiet. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” You knew that voice, though you couldn’t quite place it. Deep and smooth and full of fury, but comforting all the same. You relaxed slightly, your adrenaline-fueled grip on reality beginning to wane at the prospect of rescue. Xavier set you down, freeing one hand as he turned to face his challenger. You hung loose in his other arm, your eyes fluttering shut. 

“I’m just taking my girl home,” Xavier said, a nervous edge to his voice. His grip on your waist tightened to the point of pain, and for a moment, panic flared within you as you considered the possibility that your rescuer might be deceived. “She just drank too much.”

“That is not your girl,” another voice, equally as deep and familiar as the first, interjected. You trusted that voice too, though you still couldn’t put a name to either one. “And you’re not taking her home.” 

“Whatever, man,” Xavier sneered, moving to leave with you still tucked into his side. “Get your own, whor—” He wasn’t able to finish his insult, the vile word cut off by the sound of crunching bone. He was thrown back by some unseen force and you pitched forward as his hold on you disappeared. You braced yourself to hit the cobblestone face-first, but a strong pair of arms caught you mid-fall. The world spun around you as you were cradled against a warm, broad chest, their touch too gentle to be Xavier. The familiar smell of morning dew and cedar smoke washed over you like a soothing tonic and you relaxed into your rescuer’s arms. 

Azriel had come for you. 

⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

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[woongisi]

Drum Line Dream // Song Mingi

dom!Song Mingi x sub!gn!Reader // SMUT

WC// 2.1k

Synopsis// Things went a bit off kilter with your college marching band crush. Turns out, all you needed to fix it in the end was some bad luck and deep fried food.

Warnings// semi-public, grinding/dry humping, pet names (baby)

Author's Note// Written in one sitting and definitely not proofread. Nothing too crazy this time but I HAD to get this very self indulgent idea out of my mind. This one's for you former and current band kids, I get you. ☺︎

---------

College marching band. One of your worst decisions, yet one of your best. There was no shortage of drama to be had but at least you'd met some of your closest friends.

You played the trombone, it was large and it was loud. Your type of instrument and coincidentally your type of man. Maybe you'd smacked a few too many people in the head with your slide or emptied your spit valve on the shoes of those you disliked. Regardless, you considered it revenge for how the wind instruments would sneak up on you and blow air into their reeds as hard as possible just behind your ear.

As far as instrumental squabbles went, you found the drum line to be the most tolerable. Sure, some of the snares made it a point to play as loudly as they could, but they kept it localized within their section. You had a hard time admitting it, but you may have held a bit of a bias toward them.

That bias was Song Mingi. Song Mingi played the bass drum. The kind that you had to pull over your head, two heavy straps bracing your shoulders on either side. The kind that burned through far too many expensive wool felt mallets. You never were sure how they beat them up so quickly.

You met Mingi your freshman year and got acquainted with him rather quickly, you never had much time to spend with him as your show for the year had you in separate areas for most of it. The same followed your sophomore. Now, you found yourself in your junior year.

Earlier in the year you'd ushered Mingi over and haphazardly told him he was hot, and that if he didn't kiss you, you might cry. There you shared a kiss high up in the bleachers, hiding behind the row of bass drums. Since that moment things had become a bit awkward, you apologized, claiming you'd been overly emotional and didn't want things to get in the way of your friendship. What you didn't know was the conflict that caused Mingi.

Song Mingi was one of your best decisions yet one of your worst, just as joining the band was. Something about him was addicting. Perhaps it was his deep voice, his tall and slender figure, his bright smile that lit up the room no matter where you were.

Away games were always your favorite. You may not be able to perform at halftime as often, but cheering on the football team was enough. Besides, there was something exciting about wandering the stands of school stadiums previously unknown to you. Some schools, like the one you were visiting this night, had fancier concession stands than others.

Halftime finally hit, you stayed in place for a few minutes to take a look at the opposing team's band and judge their uniforms before meandering your way to the least busy concession stand.

You greeted the student manning the stand with a smile and a nod, taking a moment to skim over the dodgy whiteboard that served as a menu. You settled on a thing of fried oreos, 3 pieces to a boat. You handed the worker some amount of cash and told her to keep the change. It was pointless to try and find somewhere to sit so you settled down a matter of feet away, leaning against the brick wall of the buildings.

Before you could even take your first bite, a familiar voice caught your attention. Mingi had approached the booth, somehow evading being noticed by you up until that point.

“Ah, I'm sorry. We just sold the last of the oreos for the moment.” The student sighed and briefly checked her watch. “There'll be more ready in about 10 minutes… but you seem to be part of the band.”

Mingi nodded with understanding. “I'll have to be back in the stands by then. I'll just take a coke. Thank you!”

Now was your chance.

“Psssst, Mingi!” You half yelled, half whispered and motioned eagerly for him to come toward you. Mingi was quick to approach, fumbling with his bottle of soda.

“Yeah? What's up?”

“That was me… sorry. You wanna share?” You held the boat of fried oreos out as an offering.

“No, no! You spent your money on those. You should have them.”

“I insist.” You stared down at his gloved hands for a moment. “Would you… like some help with that?”

You had removed your black wool gloves and bulky gauntlets before heading to find food. A foresight that Mingi apparently lacked. He nodded shyly, almost embarrassed, and thanked you.

“Here, open.” You grabbed one of the oreos, using your other hand to hover underneath it to guard against crumbs. You leaned inward, allowing Mingi to take the cookie into his mouth. “I've already got my gloves off, don't wanna make you mess with yours.”

Those lips. Forever your greatest weakness. All he'd done was take food from your hand and all you could do was try not to stare. The kiss you shared a year before lingered in the back of your mind. Soft. They were so very soft. Pillowy and normally faintly flavored by whatever chapstick he'd managed to dig out of his bookbag. You couldn't forget the feeling and even now you regretted how fleeting the moment was.

“Hey,” Mingi awkwardly shifted his weight to one side. “Can we talk for a minute?”

You felt like your heart fell to your ass, suddenly

worried about the conversation that was yet to come. Was he angry, upset, confused? You didn't know.

Mingi led you to a corner he'd spotted when the band arrived on the field. The bright lights didn't quite reach through to dispel the darkness and the area was sparsely populated compared to the concessions.

“U-uhm…” It was unusual, the way Mingi was so seemingly anxious. Your typical charismatic musician that so confidently backed the drum line had disappeared, replaced by someone far more vulnerable.

“Your face is seriously red. You sick? Need me to tell the director that you need time out?” You cocked your head to the side with concern.

Mingi shook his head frantically and grabbed one of your hands. Forcing himself to hold your eye contact, he finally continued. “Iwannakissyouagain-”

“What…?” Whatever he'd said was spoken too quickly for you to process.

“I… want… to kiss you again.”

That was when you learned it wasn't one sided, the memory haunted him just as well. Though you didn't expect simply sharing your snacks to lead to a confession, you certainly weren't about to complain.

You gripped Mingi’s hand back, urging him to follow you as you hurried to hide under the home team’s bleachers. Not a word exchanged in the meantime. This side of the stadium housed the press box, meaning there was more solidity to the structure and more places to hide beneath.

Pressing your back against the wall, you snaked your hand up to rest on the back of Mingi’s neck.

“I missed you, Song Mingi.”

Any hesitation that plagued his mind was erased in an instant. Mingi's lips collided haphazardly with yours, his hands holding your waist. This, you thought, is what you'd needed for a year's time. This kiss was unlike your first, already starting intense. Mingi had no problem taking charge, chasing your lips whenever you pulled away like a man starved.

“Mmn,” You tapped the nape of his neck. “Need to breathe.”

Mingi was undeterred, fumbling with the zipper on the back of your uniform jacket. You shrugged it off of your shoulders, leaving it to drape off of your elbows and grant Mingi access to your neck.

“Shiiiit,” You whined against him. You had never given the uniform jacket design any thought but presently you couldn't be more relieved that once you put it back on, the mock neck would cover any marks. “Needed this so bad.”

Mingi's ministrations were sloppy, hungry, sucking and nibbling lightly on your sensitive skin. A shiver shot its way up his spine, leading him to let out a quiet moan. That was a sound you decided you could get used to.

“Can't take it, wanna touch you.” Mingi growled, becoming painfully aware of his growing erection. “I'll make it quick. Promise.”

“Mmk, anything, I'm yours.”

You rushed to remove your jacket entirely, discarding it to the side. You'd just have to handle the dust that undoubtedly covered it from the gravel layer. Mingi's jacket was soon to follow.

Your mouth gaped slightly, taking in the shape of Mingi's waist. Bibbers were tight, form fitting but so often hidden beneath your black and red jackets. You never realized just how slim his waist was but, now, you'd never forget it.

“Damn things.” Mingi grumbled, undoing the velcro and pulling down the zipper to his marching pants before assisting you with yours. There was no bothering with removing them entirely. Black tees and black shorts that laid just above the kneecap were standard for underneath the band's uniforms.

Mingi grabbed you firmly and flipped you around so that you had to brace yourself against the brick wall chest first. His strong arms held you tight against him, one around your waist and the other reaching over your chest and keeping you steady.

In this position, you couldn't see Mingi… but you could surely feel him. His breath was ragged against your neck with his hips grinding against your ass.

“Mingi, holy shit-” You didn't need to look to understand the considerable length of his cock. Four layers worth of fabric was too much, but at the same time so perfect.

Mingi’s arm situated on your waist slid downward, a gloved slipping beneath your waist band and swiftly finding your arousal. The sensation of the woolen gloves against your bare skin was almost cruel, too good and complemented by the unexpected skill Mingi possessed with his hands.

Low moans tumbled from deep in Mingi’s throat, sending shockwaves straight to your core. You'd heard him whine and groan plenty of times whenever he screwed up a formation for the nth time and on hot summer days when you were finally allowed a water break and moment in the shade. It was different to hear his familiar sounds in this manner. Despite the similarities, something felt more primal now.

Mingi was losing his control by this point, grating his aching cock hard against your figure and mumbling incoherently.

“I'm gonna cum, baby.” He nuzzled his face into you, resting his chin on the area just next to the back of your neck.

“Me too, keep going, cum for me.” You sacrificed one of your arms to muzzle your desperate moans. To be caught was one of the last things you needed.

Mingi broke first, a deep and drawn out whine tearing from him. He continued to rub himself despairingly into you, riding out his own orgasm while trying to keep up with you.

It didn't take long for you to follow in his wake. The building coil of pleasure building in your stomach finally snapped, drenching Mingi’s hand in your fluids. Your moan caught in your throat leaving you to choke back a cry.

For a moment, everything was quiet but the buzz of the nearby breaker boxes and the sound of your heaving chests.

“Fuck, thank you. Thank you so much.” Mingi praised and guided you both to rest on the cold ground. He grabbed your hand with his clean one and smiled brightly as if he hadn't just rocked your world in the midst of a football game. “Can we never keep ourselves away like we have been again?”

“Of course. You have no clue how long I've been yearning for you.” You cleared your throat. “Well, I suppose you do now.

Only after kissing Mingi’s cheek did you scurry to gather the estranged components of your marching uniform. The game was back on, your bandmates wondering where in the world you could be.

“Mingi.” You whispered with realization, “Your glove.”

“Whatever,” He sighed. “Here's the story, ok?”

Mingi cobbled together some cover up. Some mostly coherent story about how you slipped and fell, dropping your drink leading to him accidentally putting his hand right in the puddle on the concrete. He only hoped they didn't question why your uniform was largely devoid of any liquid.

Reaching the away team's stands, one of the snares crumpled up a nearby napkin and flung it at Mingi’s face with expert aim.

“Dude, where the fuck have you two been?!”

If only he knew.

[thevelaryons]

why did daemon chose to marry laena? I have always thought it was because she is prince aemon’s granddaughter and her mother and brother laenor were at some point considered jaehaerys’ heirs, we know daemon is ambitious so marrying her will bring him closer to the throne. but the show made laena (who is interested in flying more than boys) the one who seeks him out, she even admits that she was not his first choice.

The show has a lot of odd writing decisions that depict characters acting opposite from their book counterparts so trying to determine the motivations of the book characters by looking at the show versions is an exercise in futility.

Daemon clearly had a preference for Valyrian women. His favourite paramour was Mysaria, he willingly chose to marry Laena and then Rhaenyra, at brothels he was described as picking the Valyrian maidens, and he had no interest whatsoever in the non-Valyrian Rhea. So just as he had, at one time, wanted to have a family with Mysaria, this time too, with Laena, he could create a family with a suitable partner.

Though I’d say his reasons for marriage were more personal than political. Apart from being Valyrian, Laena is also a beautiful young woman described as having a fiery & adventurous personality, she claimed the dragon Vhagar at a young age, and she is the daughter of two people who Daemon is already familiar with. All of that would appeal to a man like Daemon.

Corlys is the type to keep an egg in every basket so I think he would see the political value of the Daemon/Laena marriage, but Daemon’s actions don’t make him appear to be acting in any political interest.

Prince Daemon fell in love with Laena, the singers would have us believe. Men of a more cynical bent believe the prince saw her as a way to check his own descent. Once seen as his brother’s heir, he had fallen far down in the line of succession, and neither the greens nor the blacks had a place for him…but House Velaryon was powerful enough to defy both parties with impunity.

Daemon is more pragmatic than people believe, so I don’t see him as the falling in love at first sight type. But his marriage to Laena was clearly not about the throne either. If Daemon’s claim is considered low on the line of succession, then Laena’s claim is even lower. Daemon would have to go on a murder spree to eliminate Viserys/Rhaenyra/her sons/Aegon/his sons/Aemond/Daeron, and then he and his children by Laena could be considered claimants for the throne. Clearly Daemon was not doing any of that.

Prince Daemon knew that his brother would not be pleased when he heard of his marriage. Prudently, the prince and his new bride took themselves far from Westeros soon after the wedding, crossing the narrow sea on their dragons.

It’s said that Daemon chose to leave Westeros after marrying Laena. Daemon is many things but not a coward. So it wasn’t simply a case of fearing his brother’s wrath. Daemon, hardly if ever, fears Viserys. Daemon’s marriage to Laena removed him from the political sphere entirely.

He and Laena returned back to Westeros only after they had children, at which point they took up residence with Laena’s family. It’s very unusual for a man in Westeros to be living with his in-laws, but that’s what Daemon did.

Laena is described as a fiery girl and Daemon is given the description of hot tempered. In his wife, Daemon found someone who could match his personality. They’re a very fire on fire dynamic. Just like Laena, Daemon also claimed his dragon. They both seem to dislike the stagnancy of staying in one place and are rather restless individuals (at least until they become parents). For many years, Daemon was stuck in a marriage to Rhea just as Laena was stuck in a betrothal to the Braavosi boy. They both know what it’s like to be devalued, Daemon because of his brother’s dismissal and Laena in general because of her gender being the reason she was passed over as heir to the throne. But neither of them are defined by this, judging by how Daemon chooses to live his life on his own terms and not by the whims of his brother and Laena not being bothered by the distance to the throne. So I’d say their marriage was a case of two like minded individuals finding common ground with each other.

[sepublic]

            Looking back, a lot of us assumed the statues in Gravesfield depicting Caleb and Philip as adults was an example of in-universe historical inaccuracy, kind of like how Pocahontas is portrayed as an adult, when she was actually a child when everything happened. But in hindsight, I have to wonder if this adult depiction is even a discrepancy to begin with, and not a point of clarification for the timeline of events for these brothers?

         I think what contributed to the belief that Caleb and Philip were children when the former entered the isles forever is because of Belos’ memory portraits. But we know they don’t depict everything, such as how Philip arrived in the Boiling Isles; From a Doylist perspective, the writers want to leave in some ambiguity, some mystery, and there’s only room for so many memories in the background.

         But as we learn in Thanks to Them, Caleb and Evelyn communicated through hidden rebuses to meet up multiple times; So their interactions in the human world took place over time, and it wasn’t just an instant, one-off meeting and then Caleb disappeared, his brother in hot pursuit. Dana even clarified in a Post-Hoot that Evelyn initially presented herself as human to Caleb and the rest of Gravesfield, and revealed herself after Caleb earned her trust.

         Maybe this happened across one meeting, one day; But the likelihood is that Caleb and Evelyn interacted as ‘fellow humans’ a few times before the truth was revealed. And they continued to meet up, discreetly contacting one another with hidden rebuses for the other to find and decode.

         So if all this happened over an unspecified period of time, who’s to say it wasn’t across years? And that by the time Caleb made the decision to move to the Boiling Isles, it was when he and Philip were adults; In fact, he might’ve even waited until Philip was an adult who could take care of himself, before leaving him to live his own life!

         Likewise, there is a valid interpretation that Caleb hid the truth of Evelyn from Philip, and wasn’t aware he was watching when he went off to explore the Demon Realm a few times, before eventually making the permanent move. But I think the other interpretation works, too; That Caleb DOES know Philip is there and watching. And he never made Philip enter the Demon Realm with him, out of a misguided desire to not make his baby brother uncomfortable, force him out of his comfort zone, etc.

         Caleb might’ve told Philip to wait for him back home, if he didn’t want to enter the magical portal with him; He’d be back! And Caleb did return, multiple times. And Philip didn’t rat him and Evelyn out because he was still a child, and not as dead set into his hatred yet… But I’ve compared Philip to King, as little kids with delusions of grandeur involving their enemies being crushed beneath them.

         And remember Really Small Problems, when King initially tolerated Luz going off to be with Willow and Gus, due to her promise to come back for him? But after enough time of feeling neglected, King’s resentment began to build up? Within the span of just one night, King wasn’t yet ready to intentionally make Willow and Gus ‘temporarily disappear’, but when it happened, he took advantage of the situation anyway instead of bringing them back ASAP, and eventually owned up to this mistake.

         So imagine how Philip felt across years; He may have disliked Evelyn, but not enough to want her dead… But after enough time of feeling resentful over Caleb dedicating time to Evelyn instead of just him, Philip became selfish and entitled over the fact that his brother dared to have a life that didn’t revolve around Philip. Until he became angry enough at Evelyn to want her dead, and retroactively fell back on the belief of witches as inherently evil in order to morally justify these desires, instead of admitting he was just possessive of his older brother. Plus, exposing Evelyn could make him a hero in the eyes of the townsfolk!

         We know there was a big fire, and we know Evelyn was declared a witch by Gravesfield. This could’ve been in response to her, Caleb, and Philip all disappearing; But it’s also possible that realization occurred while they were still there. And that it in fact may have driven Evelyn out of the human world, with Caleb following because he potentially ousted himself by openly defending her. Seeing his brother commit a moral wrong he couldn’t stand by could’ve influenced Caleb to leave when the two of them were adults; As was the ‘reassurance’ that Philip was now accepted by the town as a witch hunter who exposed Evelyn and spearheaded her exile, whereas Caleb was even more of an outcast for his collaboration.

         Of course, the idea that Caleb was an adult when he moved out does raise the question? Why do we not see this progression of age in the memory portraits? And again, there’s what I said about ambiguity and whatnot, but there’s also the conventions of the time skip. Just as TOH ends on a time skip where we don’t see the gradual progression of the characters’ aging outside of some photos, for the Wittebanes, whose story is only told through photos, the framing skips over the years Caleb and Evelyn interacted. The turning point in which the two met and the latter revealed herself was enough…

         After all, the portraits already skip past Philip’s aging to bring us to his arrival in the Demon Realm as an adult; Who’s to say they didn’t skip past years of Caleb growing up in Gravesfield with Evelyn? Caleb entering the Boiling Isles with Evelyn as a child wasn’t the last Philip saw of his brother, until he himself entered years later; But it was the beginning of ‘the end’ in his eyes, the beginning of when he felt he lost Caleb.

         In the end, a lot of this is speculative. It’s possible Caleb was only portrayed as an adult in-universe because the townspeople correctly remembered Philip being an adult when they last saw him, so generations afterwards made the mistake of applying this to his older brother. History isn’t as well-documented as people would like to believe, even the famous stories are forgotten and picked up after a while; Major details people should’ve easily remembered fall through the holes of time. Entire cities have been lost and rediscovered.

        But ultimately, the fact that Belos’ memories DO portray a ‘timeskip’ based on what we see of them anyway, in addition to the confirmation that Caleb and Evelyn met up over time before the former moved… I think that solidifies my belief that yes, Caleb was an adult when he left Gravesfield, as was Philip. The statues in Yesterday’s Lie are among the very first indicators of Caleb’s existence, as is the episode itself acting as a ‘debut’ of sorts for him in the lore. So maybe Gravesfield’s depiction isn’t so inaccurate, after all…

[ramoth13]

Interesting Trends and Voices in the Silmarillion Fandom

~

Although I have been a lover of Tolkien since the earliest days of my youth and have been a Tolkien Scholar for over a decade, I have not made too many forays into the Silm fandom other than when I was younger and more recently a few years ago. Thus, I was rather surprised by the trends that seem to be mainstays of the Fandom and which ones I've seen big shifts in. I'll mention them briefly, but please note, although I may share differences of opinion regarding these characters or themes, we all share a deep love of the source material and that makes us fellow Enthusiasts. Whatever our differences, we have more in common with what we love than that which we do not.

With that said,

A "newer" trend I've noticed is the number of Fëanorian apologists, which is rather surprising, especially given their vocality. Some of the more common trends in this vein:

~A general indifference towards Fingolfin apart from a "if he had been through what Fëanor had, he would have been that way too" kind of approach, etc.

~All of Fëanor's sons (but especially Maedhros) are often given the best possible excuse for every action and bad decision. Others like Thingol or Elwing, less so.

~Finarfin and his children are generally regarded as boring, except for Galadriel who is either, loved as being awesome, wild, and wise or slightly disliked for having ill-opinions of Fëanor or some combination of the two.

~Fingolfin's line is seen as either goody-two-shoes or full of themselves, with the exception of Fingon who is close friends with Maedhros.

~The Valar are often illustrated to be antagonists, especially when in opposition to the Fëanorians.

~In the same light, I've seen a few posts that portray Luthien as being somehow problematic, seemingly to balance out the negative Fëanorian interactions she endures.

~One of the more sad effects of this apologist line of thinking is the Denegration of Elrond and Elros' parents. In order for Maedhros and Maglor to be considered "good" their actual parents are seen as "bad" despite little evidence of that being the case.

~ It seems Fëanor and sons have become the golden child of the Silm fandom, a spot once reserved for Sauron and Morgoth, if memory serves.

NOTES:

These are all fairly intriguing lines of discourse and I understand that they are tied up in and often heavily influenced by the fan-fictions and fannons. Still, it does make me wonder, with how vocal the Fëanorians are (especially on tumblr), how many Nolofinweans are in the Fandom? How many fans of Finarfin's cohort (or as one Tumblr user once called them), the blondes?

Some older trends that continue:

~Thingol still sucks (at least by common thought). It is interesting that despite all of the love of the Noldorin lines given their proclivity towards violence and bad decisions, the fandom still has not been able to lend some compassion towards the reigning Sindarin Monarch.

~Celeborn somehow ending up with Galadriel is still a big mystery (I do love this one).

~Sauron is still seen as Morgoth's boyfriend/lover/etc.

~The Valar are antagonists (before this was due to the Sauron/Morgoth apologists, and now it seems to stem more from a Fëanorian view)

~Turin and Beleg are still a ship (I am pleased).

~Halls of Mandos Reunions (always a classic).

~Gimli/Legolas ship.

Some older trends I don't see as much:

~Fingolfin/Fëanor ship (I'm not upset that this one is scarce. Even in Fantasy, incest isn't my thing).

~Fingon/Maedhros ship (see above note)

~Celebrimbor is the greatest elf of all time.

~Melkor/Manwe/Varda and/or Sauron love triangles.

I'm curious to see what others think of these trends. I'll be the first to admit, I have always had a fondness for the Nolofinweans, but it is interesting to see the growth of the Fëanorian fans and how quickly their voice has grown into one of the primary topics of fandom discourse (which is good, I love the discussions!).

~ Ramoth13

[127luvr]

Hey, could you do (if u feel up to it) a platonic NCT Dream x male reader where he feels he doesn't fit into the group (only added in 2019)

Thanks

Best Friend 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼

Nct Dream x Male Reader

It was early 2019 when the company announced you were to be added to Nct Dream. The exact date slips your mind more than you would care to admit. Mostly due to the fact that everything seemed too rushed—from Mark’s graduation—to your sudden addition—to the release of the first album as Dream without Mark Lee.

You were never sure if the decision to add you to the group was something the company had planned beforehand or something they came up with on the spot—you were too scared to ask. Nevertheless, fans had the same questions. They were split—half saying that this scheme the company had planned to replace Mark wasn’t going to work—while the other half were defending you. Busy making sure your name wasn’t dragged through the mud just because of the shady planning behind the scenes. None of it was your fault—the graduation system was always something that was on the table for the unit.

Knowing this information and understanding it didn’t stop you from feeling guilty.

Your late addition was awkward at first—having never been in the group when Mark was in it shifted the dynamic. You didn’t have to get used to Jeno being the leader, you were introduced when he was the leader. And although they never consciously made the effort to make you feel excluded, the feeling was still there. It was clear that they were still grieving the loss of their friend in their group—and suddenly here you were. Preparing for their first album without Mark.

After the success of We Boom, you went from being Mark’s replacement to just (Y/s/n). Fans saw you as a proper member now—and while there were still some skeptics, they acknowledged you and your talents. There were no malicious intentions towards you but something still didn’t feel right.

Following Reload, you were tired. It had been over a year since you had been added to the group but the feeling of being a disposable member was still overwhelmingly present. You felt like you were watching the members from afar, as if you were still a trainee admiring them from a screen. So close but never quite close enough to reach out to. There was no point in bringing up your concerns with them—scared of how they’d react to it, considering they have been friends long before you were a part of the company. If one of the members disliked you—it was more than probable that the rest would follow.

When the news broke out that the company was abolishing the graduation system, the group was overjoyed. Of course, you were excited too. You got to experience Mark Lee in the same group that you were in. But as the time quickly came to pass, his addition back into the group made you feel worse. He was everything you envied. Perfect at dancing—at singing—at rapping—at communicating. There was nothing he couldn’t do.

Luckily this came at a time where a full album was being promoted—no one would be able to analyze your interactions with your unit if you were busy in others.

“You’ve been avoiding us.” Sooner or later—you would have had to face your members. You had hoped it would be later. Maybe never, as you would have rather spent your time watching videos on the internet on yourself—how you didn’t fit into the group as a whole—let alone your set unit. But it’s come now, in the form of leader Mark in all his glory. “I know I haven’t been back for long, (Y/n). I know that this has been our first comeback as an eight member group, but something’s off.”

It’s after a live video. The eight of you are sitting in the living room of the large dorms. Jeno, Jaemin, Mark and Jisung all share a couch while Chenle sits on the floor. You share the couch opposite to them with Haechan and Renjun, sitting as far as you could get with your ankles crossed. It’s an uncomfortable silence that follows Mark’s words, all eyes on you while you played with the frayed ends of your sweatshirt.

“(Y/n). We are all a part of this group. Regardless of how long everyone’s known each other, you are a part of this family too.”

“I’ve been waiting so long to hear that.” There are collective gasps that come from around the room. It catches you off guard when you make eye contact with an angry Jaemin. His hard eyes paired with his long eyelashes intimidate you.

“(Y/n), I know you’re entitled to how you feel and this has been such a drastic change for you, but we have been trying with you for over a year. We have gone out of our way to make sure you didn’t feel left out.” You hate how well he’s able to articulate himself even under stress, his words falling on your ears heavily as he continues. “I do want to apologize on behalf of everyone for not noticing how hard you were struggling, we should’ve pieced it together. You never came to us with problems but we also never established that you could. We’re sorry for never giving you verbal communication but you can’t say we didn’t try. We are not a group who has to really say things out loud so we understand each other but you didn’t know that.”

You let yourself inch closer to the members next to you. There was no point in trying to make yourself smaller when the attention was still centered on you. It’s an odd sensation—to think back on the interactions you’ve had with individual members.

They were always there for you—whether it was a simple affirmation from Jeno or an invite to hot pot from either Renjun and Haechan. To them it was small acts to try and ease you into the group—it was sharing water outside of the recording booth in between sessions. It was sharing jackets and pushing their leftovers towards you if they didn’t want anymore.

“Jaemin… Haechan, Renjun, Jeno, Jisung, Chenle,” you make eye contact with each member as you call out their names, trying to express how you felt through your eyes, “Mark. I was too in my own head—thinking about how you guys didn’t like me or want me here that all of the effort you put into making me feel wanted and welcome was ignored.” You couldn’t hold eye contact with Mark anymore, too embarrassed to acknowledge his nod of encouragement.

“We also should apologize.” Jeno’s voice startles you. Even if he was across the room, his voice carried so far it sounded as if he were sitting right next to you. “We should’ve done a better job of noticing that you were struggling.”

“I think if we keep going like this we’ll never stop passing the blame around.” You can’t help but smile at Jisung’s comment, mouthing a small thank you towards Jeno as he elbowedJisung’s side.

“Jisung’s right for once!”

The group erupts in laughter, the scene causing you to chuckle through teary eyes.

“Here’s to new beginnings, guys. We’re a family.” Mark’s eyes never stray from you and for the first time in over a year, you believe those words.

[justanotherblogger]

Random Rambles And Theories About Alastor Go!

Ok, so right now I am on a high with all the recent Alastor lore we've been blessed with in Hazbin Hotel, and this little murderer has been occupying my mind 24/7. I really need to get all my theories and rambles out that I don't see a lot of people talking about.

(BTW, before my ramble, I have seen many places say he was mixed race as a human, but if I am wrong, please let me know, because this delves deep into that with his human life.)

(Also be warned for a bit of gore/violence and that this thing is kind of long)

Now let's begin!

I'll start with the most talked about theory with Alastor: his connections with Lilith and why he reacted the way he did with Lucifer

The show has given us what many people think are hints to this with both of them gone for 7 years, the slight eye twitch in the pilot when he looked at liliths portrait, Alastor showing up right after Charlie finished voicmailing her mom also in the pilot, how he knew about Charlie's Daddy Issues before she seemed to have told anyone, the leash comment from Husker, and how Alastor reacted to Lucifer.

Now, all of these could be chalked up to Alastor having some sort of nice relations to Lilith, but some of these are a bit too far stretched to just be because he has interacted nicely with Lilith in my eyes.

I have seen many people talk about how Alastor must have gotten a bad impression of Lucifer because either him and Lilith are besties and talk crap about him after the split, or he listened to her complaints about him and got an impression off of that to dislike him this much right off the bat in episode 5.

But I don't think that's it. We see how badly Alastor reacted to the leash comment by Husker, which definitely isn't a good sign that he would even trust the words of whoever is holding that 'leash' against him. He seemed pushed over the edge, vulnerable enough to lash out, which is unlike himself. Whatever deal he made for his soul, was most likely under threat, a life or death choice.

This is why I think he despises (most likely) Lilith or whoever has that 'leash' on him. He lashes out, sensitive about the subject. After gaining so much power over the overlords, he suddenly gets toppled over again by someone of (most likely) higher status, being forced into an unwilling contract, now just another pawn that this demon(?) can use for their own desires, and he doesn't want to be that, he needs to make his own decisions. But he doesn't have any say in the matter.

So I think why he was mocking and teasing Lucifer so much was because of his connection with Lilith. Everyone knew how deeply in love they were (before they split) and how they are both the most powerful demons in hell. I think Alastor took a chance to use his pent up anger on Lucifer, trying to get him to hurt as much as he can because of what Lilith did, all the while Lucifer cant do anything too serious leat he upset Charlie. We know he is extremely petty, after all. (we can also see him (most likely) letting off some steam when devouring the loan sharks, with him getting unnecessarily big and just letting loose on a couple of low-tier goons)

I saw another person talk about how Alastor has no power over Lucifer/Lilith, no political power, and he can't beat them in games of wits either. But the one thing that he does have the upper hand on, is their daughter, and I completely agree with that.

Alastor has been there since the beginning, has helped Charlie out and talked with her more than her own Parents had in the last couple of years probably. He's seen how attached the parents are to Charlie, and decided to use that info in full force. Just look at the Lucifer/Alastor duet.

Now that we have my theories of the life and death contract with Lilith, let's go deep into what I think is Alastors character right now:

Alastor, a mixed child in the early 1900's most likely had it really rough. With being treated as less than from both sides for being to dark/light to the violence that he most likely had to endure during his childhood.

This could have been where his anger/obsessive resentment started to simmer up in sporadic bursts over the years and years of belittlement, abuse, and racism.

Like I said before, he was probably treated as less than human for his mixed skin, and Alastor most likely started to hate it. His skin, the people, everything seemed so wrong. Why should the people who beat him and his mother see them so vulnerable and weak. He decided he didn't like that anymore.

So the radio show started. I got this idea from when he said his face was only made for radio. Over the radio, no one ever knew what you looked like. Just your voice would be broadcasted, and no one would ever see who was really behind the microphone unless they stepped out. This seemed like a barrier to Alastor. Letting himself go with no worries about letting people see him vulnerable behind his broadcast. (Maybe that's why he hates TV and modern tech so much; people can see everything about you)

And when his radio show became a hit and people wanted pictures and news? What would protect him then? Simple: his unwavering smile. Reactions are what people want when they crush others. They want to see them wallow and beg cry from what they have done. But Alastor won't let anyone do that to him ever again.

He stands his guard, not letting any comments get to him, keeping charming smile and unwavering voice all throughout his career as a radio host. Keep the smile up, dont have your voice crack, never show weakness. If you stop, those that wait will sink their teeth in and never let go of you. That's what I think a part of his mentality is and is maybe a part of why his smile is stitched on in his demonic form.

Now onto why I think he's a serial killer/cannibal. Remember when I said he had lots of unchecked anger and obsessive resentment? All this now simmering even more while being pushed down by his persona?

This is when he'll break loose.

He usually goes for the ones with the least amount of defense: drunkards/ bar frequenters. I though of this when Mimzy said he used to always come to the bar she was performing at and how he could drink like a sailor.

He might've drank with people to let their guard down in addition to his non-threatening charm, and he probably built a tolerance to be at least a bit sober when the others are full out drunk so he can easily transport and kill them.

He probably enjoys killing/eating his victims because a) it shows how he has power now. How he isn't a helpless victim anymore and he's finally in control of his life or b) where he likes seeing privileged people beaten and bruised for once, the gratification of seeing someone taste their own medicine by his own hand, like revenge, even if that person hadn't been necessarily bad towards him.

His death ro me is the same that everyone else thinks, where he's burying some victims body and gets mistaken for a deer, then shot straight between the eyes. What I do think a bit differently is that he was chased by hunting dogs first, which alerted the hunter for him to get shot, which then led to his fear of dogs.

Then he was finally free to do anything. Hell had no limits, he didn't have to hide his carnage anymore. But now that smile he wore was engraved into his face, almost making it impossible to frown. But that didn't matter. Not right now. Alastor has so many emotions bubbling up that he just wanted blood to be on his hands.

And then he slaughtered the overlords and took their souls within weeks ( maybe months, idk how quick he killed them, but ima go with weeks), broadcasting it over the radio to show everyone what he's been up to.

Alastor had kept this routine for a couple of decades, occasionally getting a guest star on his broadcast by those who he seems fit.

But maybe he had become too cocky with this power high, as he had been attacked by holy weaponry right before the extermination he dealth with most of them, but a shot did make it into his shoulder, causing him to collapse in pain, unable to move. (a bit simple, but I imagine him getting badly hurt by angels/angelic weaponry to lethal levels and Lilith decides to save him)

He fought hard when the angels arrived, of course, but he could only go so far in being this injured. So when he was about to get stabbed in the chest by a holy spear, he was already tired and almost accepted his fate, before being pulled somewhere by Lilith herself.

This is where Lilith offers a beat and broken Alastor a one time deal: become her servant or she'll throw him back to the exterminators herself. And in a situation like this, there's usually only one option you can really take.

And so he was a ghost, leaving everything he had behind. His power, his respect, his freedom...

Now Alastor had become a pawn again. A tool useful for the right situations, and just a toy to be played with by Lilith. This is exactly what he didn't want from his human life. The humility, the disregard, treating him as some sort of street animal, no matter what he did.

And now she orders him to guard her daughters hotel, giving him back a piece of his power to protect the hotel.

Alastor had hated Charlie for how she misused her amazing power for something like redemption.

Alastor hated Lucifer, for having all that power, being the strongest demon in hell, yet taking it for granted while mocking him about his choices.

And Alastor hated Lilith, for trapping him again, and renewing his endless cycle of suffering.

So those are my thoughts about Alastor. I think you can tell he's my favorite. I just love his powers and lore.

[arteastica]

early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (8)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24) | (25) | (26) | (27) | (28) | (29)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 4.2k

“My goodness! You are totally going to find a husband tonight.”

“Do you think it’s too much?” The crisp air flowing in through the open window caressed your bare skin and prompted you to ask the question.

“Who cares? Woman, look at yourself.” Hitch grabbed you by the shoulders and turned you to the mirror.

You examined your reflection again, trying your best to find the confidence required to finally step out of the ladies’ room. You had chosen one of your favorite silk dresses for the occasion: sky-colored, cowl neck that stopped exactly where it was comfortable, and thin bow-tie straps to hold everything up. Yes, definitely a favorite. Favorite, as in ‘best liked’ and not as in ‘frequently worn’. In fact, this was the first time the poor thing ever left your room, where a teenager version of yourself used to wear it late into the night, when the risk of getting caught by your mother equaled zero. She didn’t even know you owned it, but you were certain the thigh slit and the flirty silhouette would be reason enough for her to disapprove. But to be fair, you didn’t remember the fabric ever hugging you this way before. Your body had obviously changed a lot over the years, and you were surprised it still fit.

“Jeez. I really wish I wasn’t on duty tonight, so I could wear one of these.” Hitch let out a disheartened sigh. Her chin was resting on your right shoulder and her eyes examined your reflection from head to toe. When they stopped at the slit in your right leg she said “Those thighs won’t have a problem finding their way into a gentleman’s heart.” She gave you one of those smirks you had missed so much. “Or into his bed…”

“Sadly, I’m not here for that tonight. I’m here for work.”

“Sorry but no one who is here just for work, one, looks this good in a slip dress, and two, takes this long to come out. What about punctuality?”

She was right. You had already taken too long. So, very reluctantly, you decided to walk out the door. But as soon as you stepped out, heads started turning in your direction, the attention mostly coming from women wearing pastry-shaped gowns and opera gloves.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t expecting the attention. You knew the dress had been a daring decision. The moment you slipped on it, you confirmed it had the potential to make heads turn, and maybe some part of you actually wanted a taste of that. Would admitting it make you an attention-seeker? According to your script, however, the scene was supposed to play out a little different, and you had imagined yourself actually enjoying it. But, in real-life, the only thing the dress was succeeding at was awakening dormant insecurities, like that feeling of inadequacy you had almost forgotten about. How could you have forgotten though? You used to be inseparable. That was until you started working at the Survey Corps. You thought of your office, and the familiar picture comforted you for a brief moment, until you remembered it was now miles away.

You smoothed down the front of your dress, in part to look busy and also to dry your sweaty palms, but unlike the silky fabric, the crowd’s eyes felt rough on your skin. And you wished you had decided to wear something less special, something that would allow you to camouflage and pass as one of them. Why did I wear this? Your eyes tried to find the answer in a very promising spot on the floor. Maybe it had been out of pity for the dress. As a dress, it would be disappointing to spend all your life in a dark closet. Maybe it had been for old time’s sake. Since you hadn’t felt that out of place in months, maybe you wanted to remind yourself of the sensation. Or maybe it had all come down to something as simple as the color, and how it reminded you of something you had grown to like so much over the last months.

You turned to Hitch, displaying your bare back to the crowd.

“I can’t do this. Not like this. I’ll go get my coat.”

“Absolutely not. You look perfect, that’s why they are staring, because they like what they see. In fact, I would be worried if they weren-” Her eyes got lost in a particular spot on the other side of the room. “Woah, your boss is hot.”

You turned around and felt like you were coming undone. You didn’t understand why all these eyes were fixed on you, when clearly the best view was across the room, where he was standing.

One look at him and it was obvious that tuxedos had been created just so they could be worn by him. That black suit was exactly the kind of fit a woman would pick out for her man to wear at an event like this. And, while the slicked back hair undoubtedly contributed to the fireworks lighting up all over your skin, the real devil was in all the other details. It was in the way he kept his shoulders back and his chin high as he spoke, in the unconcerned drumming of his fingers against his leg, in the way he threw his head back when laughing, and in the way he seemed to fall into place everywhere he went, whether it was a room full of intimidating people, or a field full of titans. Confidence shone through his skin. Confidence, as well as everything else that made him attractive, came from deep within.

“Alright, now go out there and fulfill your duties.” You felt your friend's hands on your shoulders. “That also includes finding yourself a rich suitor who asks for your hand in marriage.” She whispered into your ear before pushing you into the crowd.

Across the room, the commander was talking to a group of older-looking men. Despite your legs feeling as steady as a house of cards, you started walking towards him. You had successfully made it halfway through the uncomfortable stares, when his eyes finally landed on you. Like everyone else so far, he did a double-take. However, unlike the others, he didn’t turn to the next person to whisper something. Instead, he started making his way to you. And most notably, unlike the others, whose eyes traveled all over your body, back and forth between every patch of exposed skin and resting at all the wrong stops, his didn’t. As he walked to you, his eyes were fixed on yours. And, in that moment, you realized you were very lucky. Because those were the kind of eyes that made the world around you vanish, uncomfortable stares and all.

When you finally met halfway, you decided you would gladly give up your ability to blink. It would be a small price to pay if it meant you would never miss a second of that irresistible smile and the way it made his eyes crinkle. He reached for your hand, and took it in with the kind of gentleness you wouldn’t expect from a man who spends his life around flesh-eating giants.

He brought your hand to his lips, and when they met the back of your fingers, you prayed he didn’t notice all the hairs on your forearms standing on end. The rest of your body was clearly getting jealous of your hand. You could tell by the way your lips parted and let out a very subtle, and you hoped silent, moan.

“May I?” He offered you his arm and you took it promptly, deciding you wouldn’t mind holding on to it for the rest of your life, and if that wasn’t possible, then at least for the rest of the evening.

When you got a closer look at the men he had been previously talking to, you realized you actually knew one of them: Commander Pixis, head of the Garrison. You had never met him formally, but you had seen him a few times around the capital. However, before any introduction could take place, a man with gentle-looking features spoke in a soft voice.

“My lady, Erwin is undoubtedly a very lucky man.”

His words took a few seconds to register with you, but when they finally did, your ears started burning, the sensation spreading like fire to the rest of your face as you realized that they, most likely, still didn't know you were his assistant.

After conversing some more, the commander asked to be excused and guided you to another group of people. And so, as you made your way around the ballroom, you realized there were even more eyes on you now, and it wasn’t surprising, the man beside you was reason enough. But the stares didn’t hold as much weight as they did before, because right now you had his arm to hold.

You glanced up at him, and your lips curved slightly as you remembered the little incident from earlier. Much like that man, these onlookers most likely didn’t know you were just his assistant. And something about that, and the speculations it could lead to, the rumors it could start, and everything else it could imply about you and him, made your insides feel as fizzy as the contents of the glass you were holding. For all they knew, the night would end with your dress discarded on the floor, and bodies tangled under the covers. And you found yourself wishing that whatever assumptions they were making would actually come true.

As the night went on, a couple of things caught your attention. One of them was Captain Levi, who looked like he would much rather attend his own funeral. And the other one was a certain pattern of behavior: Every man you met while holding the commander’s arm, purposely avoided looking at your exposed thigh or bare shoulders, and while their eyes would occasionally linger on your collarbones for an innocent second or two, they would quickly migrate somewhere else.

The evening was already coming to a close when the pattern was sadly broken. To be more precise, it was when you met the group of men standing at the top of the stairs. They had been laughing boisterously and drinking steadily since the evening started. Most of them looked like they were well into their fifties, and all six men were wearing ostentatious sashes dotted with the biggest collection of golden studs you had ever seen. The loudest, and presumably oldest, of them all greeted the commander animatedly.

“Erwin Smith, the legend himself. I’m still waiting for that rematch.” You noticed the cufflinks on his shirt and wondered if those were diamonds, because if they were, then they’ve got to be the biggest in existence. “I’ve been working on my double attacks.”

“Intuition is sometimes far more helpful than memorizing patterns, my lord.” The commander replied in a gentle voice.

“That’s why you’re always one step ahead.” The older man let out a guffaw that, in retrospective, felt a little unnecessary, before turning to you. “Woah. Just like in the game, you never cease to surprise me, Erwin. In very pleasant ways, I must say.” His eyes meticulously outlined all the curves of your body, paying special attention to your covered cleavage, and the amount of time he spent there made you wonder if he had somehow developed the ability to see through fabric. “However, I will never understand how your mind works. There is no way I would bring the missus to an event like this. I mean, the whole purpose of a party is to have fun!” The man and his friends broke out in strident laughter, and that was the only moment his eyes left your body, when he tilted his head back to enjoy his own remark.

“I mean no disrespect to you, my lady,” he may not but his body language sure as hell did, “so please don’t take offense.” With tears in his eyes and still recovering from earlier, he acknowledged you briefly before turning to the commander. “But I was hoping we could become family someday, Erwin. You left quite the impression on my youngest.”

You suddenly felt a burning sensation in your chest, and it had nothing to do with the unsolicited attention it had been getting from the man.

“She asked if you were coming tonight. Sent her regards.” The audacity of this man. If the commander were actually your man, how would you feel listening to all this? “Maybe you could join us for lunch tomorrow. She would be delighted to play against you one more time. She’s brilliant, isn’t she?” And right there and then, you realized there would actually be no difference between how you would feel if you were his wife and how you were feeling in that very moment. This man was basically setting the commander up for a little chess date with his daughter, when his alleged wife, fiancée, girlfriend or whatever, was standing right beside him, holding his arm.

“She’s a very gifted young lady.” The commander’s deep voice contrasted the man’s grating tone. “However, I’m afraid I must decline your kind offer, my lord. I will be returning to the headquarters first thing in the morning.”

“I see.” The man cleared his throat, the gleeful undertone seemingly gone all of a sudden. “Anyway, you’re a lucky man. There’s no denying.” His eyes bore into yours, successfully reminding you of a vulture scavenging for rotting carrion. “Your lady is gorgeous.”

That last remark made you feel like you had swallowed a rock; the way he had said it made your legs feel heavier than concrete; and the stare he had given you while saying it, made you feel as clothed as a titan. You knew once this man found out you were not with the commander, you were done. Once, the words ‘she’s my assistant’ left his mouth, this man would come after you. And you also knew that you wouldn’t get far, not with your legs in that state.

“Yes. She really is.” The commander’s voice sounded a lot like the rainy mornings back at the base. You looked up and found him staring at you, his lips curved into a soft smile, his gaze wrapping you like that well-worn blanket your mother always told you to throw away but you never did. You stared back into his eyes and what you saw, took you back to that day in the Forest of Giant Trees, with his heartbeat like a lullaby, and his arms like a sweet childhood memory.

But then, murmuring sounds came flooding in like muddy water spilling out of the sewers. You turned your head in their direction and realized the older man wasn’t the only one who had taken an interest in your dress, but also his friends.

And you decided you would gladly take the women’s stares over these any day. Who knows, maybe the women had only been thinking about how the color didn’t suit you or how fake the silk looked. But something about the way these men were grinning and whispering to each other told you that they were looking for something in particular, and you were sure it wasn’t the tailor’s name. You would much rather feel cheap and underdressed, than dirty and undressed.

You held onto the commander’s arm with your other hand as well, and snuggled closer, in what seemed to be your body’s desperate attempt to elude the attention.

“If you excuse us, gentlemen.” Much like the seasons, his voice always seemed to know when it was its turn to arrive. He guided you away, and at some point between the top of the stairs and the main hall, his hand came to rest at the small of your back. Even through the fabric, his fingers caused your skin to burn. And for the second time that night, you could feel the rest of your body getting jealous.

“Commander, I think I’ll call it a night.” You announced once you reached the main hall. “Thank you for tonight.” You gently let go of his arm and wondered if that was what autumn leaves felt as they were about to fall from the branches.

He nodded slightly, and, probably having no idea how nice it was going to feel, then said: “I’ll walk you home.”

“Oh don’t worry about it. My house is actually very close.”

“All the more reason to do it then.” His eyes crinkled in that enticing way they usually did and, honestly, you didn’t feel like pretending you were against his proposal.

-

The distinctive smell of frost infused the night air, and slipped into your bustle coat as you walked down the familiar streets that led to your house. There was a lingering warmth still left from the summer, but the mist that hovered above the cobblestones signaled the impending arrival of winter. However, they weren’t fighting for dominance, and you wondered if you would ever know such harmony. You glanced at the man walking just a couple of feet beside you, his eyes, on the road ahead; his mind, somewhere you didn’t know; but his hands, his hands were in his pockets, and you wanted to reach inside his coat and take one.

It had been a dreamy night for the most part, but you could feel your heart shrinking a little with every step you took. Every passing street light signaled another lost chance at getting closure. And you still had lots of words awaiting in your tongue, lots of questions lingering on your lips, and your mouth was heavy with all the things that were yet to be said.

“Lord Wald seems to have problems with alcohol.” He spoke in his usual quiet voice, but there was a certain undertone propping up his words.

“Didn’t seem like that to me.” He looked at you, slight confusion painting his features and causing his head to tilt to one side. “They seemed to get along quite well.”

He chuckled. And you couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.” His eyes were fixed in the cobblestones below his feet, and the underlying something from earlier was still there, but this time you were able to put a name to it: it sounded like remorse.

“It’s okay.” You gave him a reassuring smile, even though he wasn’t looking. “But I feel bad for his wife, and honestly for any woman who crosses paths with him when she’s not around.”

“I highly doubt her presence makes any difference when it comes to his behavior.”

You looked at your hands, they were holding each other as if seeking comfort. “So, you play with her often?” You felt his gaze on you but didn’t look back. “His daughter.”

“Met her once. Very impressive player. Cannot say she got it from her father though.” You faked a smile at the exact same moment a tide of regret washed over you, finally understanding what your mother meant when she said chess was an important life skill.

And speaking about your mother, you caught a whiff of a familiar and otherwise pleasant earthy scent and prayed you wouldn’t find her beloved climbing hydrangea, but when you looked up, it was there. And so was your front door.

“It’s here.” You took a deep breath and released the parting words you had been dreading to say. “Thank you for walking me home, commander.”

He took a step closer, reached for your hand and brought it to his lips, but this time, they parted slightly, taking your knuckles between them in a single, soft kiss. The warmth of his lips and the crisp autumn air blowing on wet skin created a delicious contradiction on your hand. His eyes were closed and his lips lingered, some would say for way longer than was required for a hand kiss. It was a sight deserving of a moan, so you gave him a silent one. One that created a playful tickle in your belly.

But maybe it wasn’t silent enough, because in that very moment he looked back at you. And, as you stared back into the deep blue, you realized those were the kind of eyes that could tell you a million things before his lips could even say a word. Tonight, they were telling you something as well, and although you didn’t know exactly what it was, you knew a few other things.

You knew why your skin tingled under his gaze, and burned under his touch. You knew why the sight of him lifted your heart to the sky while his absence made it sink into a bottomless pit. You knew why his scent reminded you of every secret place you hid in as a little girl, and his voice, of a happier future you wanted to escape to. You knew why the thought of another woman interested in him set your heart on fire, and the idea of him interested in her, crushed it into pieces. And you also knew why you had worn the dress.

You knew the blue of the silk would complement your skin just the same way the blue of his eyes did. You had decided to wear the dress just so you could feel what it was like to have his eyes all over your body. His eyes were not only allowed, but welcome and explicitly invited, to explore every inch of your skin, covered or not. He could stare as much as he wanted, for as long as he wanted, in all the places he wanted. But only him. Because you had worn the dress for him. However he was too much of a gentleman to do it, so you gave him permission.

“Do you like my dress?” You took a step closer, and noticed your hand was still in his.

His eyes drifted to your lips, where they lingered for a second, before following the path marked by your collarbones, down to your clothed breasts where they rested momentarily. Then, they paid a short visit to your hips before finally landing on your thigh, visible through the open coat. It was there where they seemed to feel most at home. And it was then, when you had his eyes on your bare skin, that you became aware of how soaked you were. You squeezed his fingers on instinct at the realization, which caused him to trace his steps back to your eyes.

“Very much.” His voice, almost a whisper; his lips, slightly parted. And you could see his breath, as well as the rising and falling of his chest. He was so close you wondered if he could see what you were thinking of, if he could see how much you wanted him to take the silky fabric off you.

In such proximity, his cologne was even more intoxicating. It was musky and clean, like a fresh bubble bath; sweet and gentle, just like him. You knew it was something you would always crave, even after tonight was long gone. And you wondered how many women had been in this intimate space before, and how many of them were craving his perfume right now.

The small of your back was still tingling from where he touched you earlier. And the rest of your body was demanding the same attention, so you took another step closer.

Goodness, he was so handsome. The kind of handsome that makes you want to know how his lips moved in a kiss, and how his hands followed the curves of your body. And the situation laid out before you provided the perfect opportunity.

The perfect opportunity to stop pretending your feelings were written in some foreign language you had never heard before. The perfect opportunity to call it what it was, once and for all.

“Commander.”

“Yes?” His eyes couldn’t decide between yours and your lips.

“There’s something I want to ask you.” Your voice had never sounded so feeble. “Would you- would you please-” He nodded encouragingly but his breath on your skin was too distracting, successfully causing the opposite effect. “I- I can’t tell you.”

“Then show me.”

His eyes were holding your gaze, and his lips, you could almost taste them.

You could also hear, however, shuffling on the other side of the door, and you looked up to find a light turned on in the second floor.

“If it’s my mother, she’ll ask you to come in. If it’s my father, he’ll force you to.” He let out a chuckle and you found yourself wishing you could make him laugh forever. “Would you like to come in?”

“It’s late. I don’t want to importune anyone.”

“Good choice. If you get my father started, he’ll talk about royal family conspiracy theories all night long.”

“Sounds interesting.”

You did your best to return his smile despite the emptiness you felt when letting go of his hand.

“See you tomorrow, commander. Good night.”

-

next chapter

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[hansa-lao]

I can't help but say it. I'm sorry for my English and my description, but I can't keep this to myself for long.

It always seemed to me and it seems that Bumblebee-teenager and his rebellious phase beam long before he was deprived of his voice.

And at the very beginning (about 12 years old), he was eager to get into the courses (?) to become a scout. He lacked the attention of Jazz and other scouts.

But no one wanted to let him go there and there were reasons for that.

First and most importantly, Bumblebee was too young to make such decisions. Secondly, the academy was far from the Icon base. Could be at risk of attack, although they tried to control it. And the third is the banal anxiety for the baby, who has lived at the base since birth.

Bumblebee protested a lot, for which he was often punished. But he didn't give up.

One trait of his character was stubbornness. Which was very disliked by others. Especially the bots that took care of him.

One night, trying not to disturb anyone, Bumblebee stole a travel bag from the warehouse. Before that, he found out which ship would go towards the academy. But there were no ships directly to the academy, so he chose the one that would be closer to him. And it's a one day to walk to the academy.

Therefore, he threw two cubes of energon, all the documents necessary for enrollment into his travel bag and the map. And for Optimus and the Elite, he left a note in his room on the bed.

The ship was a cargo ship and left only in the morning. Which was unlikely, given his loud behavior lately. But he did it.

The ship moved slowly and carefully and it took about 12 hours for it to arrive at the site. It was hard for Bumblebee to sit still and not fidget.

Therefore, when the ship began to be unloaded, he almost got caught. He accidentally knocked over some boxes, attracting a lot of attention. He ran away, but it seemed to him that he was noticed anyway.

He somehow got his bearings on the map, but he still wasn't sure if he was going right. The path was difficult for him. Bumblebee was still a stubborn child. He still made a little mistake in the coordinates and moved away from the academy a kilometer to the right. He panicked, but he didn't give up his stubbornness.

It was already evening. And the lights began to light up in the academy, greeting the warships and helping those who left the academy for some reason to navigate (The Academy was not afraid of enemy raids). And it helped him, but because of the panic, he did not immediately notice the lights.

At the academy itself, in front of the officers, he pretended to be an orphan in need of training and a roof over his head. He even started crying (one-actor theater). He was accepted.

Everything was revealed when Elite-1 arrived at the academy on business. She looked tired and exhausted. She saw Bumblebee in the crowd and asked the officer who this little bot was, and asked him to bring him to her office in the evening, claiming that she knew his parents. She was angry and relieved that he was okay.

She scolded him severely, but left him at the academy.

Upon returning to Iacon's base, she told the others where Bumblebee had gone. Optimus was a little disappointed, but at the same time glad and reassured. Ratchet was angry about Bumblebee's character, and Jazz laughed for a long time.