#i have my hands full with Broken Constellations

[rainintheevening]

How Qui-Gon saves Anakin (and the Galaxy): Part 1

Haven't even finished the fic, but have so many more thoughts about my Qui-Gon is Obi-Wan��s Father AU. Mostly about what happens after as we get into the movies, like in TPM.

-Qui-Gon saying something to Shmi about knowing what it's like to let go of your son for his sake, and wanting your child to grow up strong and safe.

-Obi-Wan still being thrown by Qui-Gon saying he'll take Anakin as his padawan, but during their argument before takeoff, Qui-Gon pointedly calls him 'my son', which always settles something in Obi-Wan whenever he's wound up, and it works this time too. Qui-Gon makes sure Obi-Wan knows that padawan or no, Obi-Wan is his son, and nothing will ever change that.

-Obi-Wan screaming, "Ada!" when Qui-Gon goes down under Maul’s blade.

-QUI-GON SURVIVING. Because I'm writing this story, not GL.

-But barely, and as much as they manage to fix or replace most of his damaged organs, he's never going to fully recover.

-Obi-Wan gets knighted once Qui-Gon is able to perform the ceremony, but that takes a few months, and that is actually good time for Anakin to acclimate to Temple life.

-Obi-Wan takes Anakin as his padawan, and it is actually kinda perfect? Cause Obi-Wan has his dad to get advice from, and Anakin has a grandpa he can safely vent to when he's frustrated.

-Qui-Gon hates being permanently injured, but that's less about the constant pain (which they say he'll have to deal with to some degree for the rest of his life), and more about the loss of mobility. It takes him a year or two to really come to terms with that, with not being able to just get up and go ever again.

-Anakin learns a lot from watching Qui-Gon deal with that, and seeing the man he considers a hero struggle both physically and emotionally.

-Obi-Wan has his hands full, but he doesn’t deal with any of it alone. Yaddle, who's always been a great friend of him and Qui-Gon, is particularly lovely with helping him find a fair balance between working with Anakin and taking care of Qui-Gon until his dad is mostly self-sufficient again.

-After losing his temper with Anakin one day, and very quickly apologising, Qui-Gon takes some advice from Obi-Wan and gets more honest and open with Anakin about when he's having bad days. This leads to Anakin making it his mission to give Qui-Gon as many good days as possible.

-Qui-Gon finally accepts his condition when the healers warn him that the 'spare parts' will only sustain him so long, and his days are numbered. When he realises that if his injuries are bad enough that he will never recover, he probably should have died on Naboo. But for whatever reason he's been given extra time. Extra time to see his son grow as a knight, to contribute to Anakin’s education, to have more tea with his friends. Extra time to lose himself in the Archives and be dragged out, blinking like an owl, by Jocasta Nu telling him his boys are looking for him and the reason he's feeling faint is because he hasn't eaten all day. Extra time for the three of them to end up cuddled together in the same bed when Anakin’s had a nightmare, and Qui-Gon's feeling the pain, and Obi-Wan is kinda overwhelmed with how much he loves his dad and his kid and he just wants them both to be okay. It's a gift, Qui-Gon discovers. A painful one to be sure. But a gift nonetheless, and he's going to make the most of it.

-He definitely enables a lot of Anakin’s mischievous pranks and more unorthodox ways of blowing off steam. But he does his best not to undermine Obi-Wan’s authority as Anakin’s master.

-When Anakin gets into his particularly rebellious and moody teens, Qui-Gon helps pull him out of spirals by telling all sorts of stories from when Obi-Wan was a padawan, embarrassing ones especially, and stories from his own apprenticeship. He never tries to teach Anakin anything in those talks, especially seeing as how one of Anakin’s complaints is about Obi-Wan making everything into a lesson. But it really does help Anakin, makes him think, and see his master as more approachable, less perfect.

-It comes on toward ten years since finding Anakin, and the Battle of Naboo, and Qui-Gon is being more and more intentional with the time he does get to spend with Obi-Wan and Anakin. He gets the feeling he doesn't have more than half a dozen years left at the most. He's trying to make sure his boys will be ready when he dies.

-Aaaaaand then we get the Clone Wars.

-And my plot brain goes bonkers with the possibilities.

[rwrbficrecs]

A combined rec list for July & August ❤️

Before This, After That by @orchidscript (book-verse)

@dot524: Henry has a serious horse-riding injury and is in a downward spiral with his recovery until Therapist Alex pulls him out of it. I liked the sharp-edges interaction between them as they fall for each other. I actually read this one a while ago and it was just as good as a reread!

The darkest part of the forest by @everwitch-magiks (book-verse)

@suseagull04: I've loved this entire series, but this was my favorite by far so far! The way the author does world building in her fics is incomparable, even in a fic this short! I would love if she decided to make this a multichapter someday!

Count The Stars and Constellations by @everwitch-magiks (book-verse)

@suseagull04: I've said it once already this month, but it bears repeating: the way the author does world building in her fics is absolutely phenomenal! This one's an outer space saga for the ages, plus it's a multichapter, so we get to see Alex and Henry fall in love over the span of several years, and it's a bit angsty, but absolutely worth it!

An Exquisite Temptation by @tinyarmedtrex (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Henry became a Catholic priest to escape his homophobic family. Never did he expect to meet a stunningly attractive and equally charming, mouthy Texan who would seriously challenge his devout faith. Y'all can guess where this is headed, right? Delicious in so many ways: emotional, full of ‘80s vibes, angsty, smutty—an absolute masterpiece! Chef’s kiss!

How to get over Henry Fox: A list by dazedandconfused (book-verse)

@na-dineee: This AU is set in 2002, and Alex breaks up with the love of his life Henry. Even though it's clear they’d only be apart for a year, the story is still so gut-wrenching. The hurt and angst really got to me—reading that fic is a challenge, but it's absolutely worth it.

late night devil (put your hands on me) by @nine-butterflies (book-verse)

@suseagull04: The way this author took a 4 chapter fic and gave the world so much history and lore is absolutely incredible! Plus there are so many moments of Alex and Henry's relationship that're reminiscent of the book. Everything about this fic is amazing- and it's also definitely a good fic if you're looking for something for Halloween when it arrives soon!

right there beside him (all summer long) by @theprinceandagcd (book-verse)

@daisymae-12: The winter in Australia had me craving a story with summer vibes and this fic was perfect for that. Loved everything about this fic!!

Interrupted (series) by RadioFriday (book-verse)

@dot524: Henry is diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, just like his dad was. This story follows him and Alex through their painful journey, including the end of it and beyond. Read this if you’re in the mood to have your heart broken, over and over.

the very essence of love by dollarstoreannabethchase (book-verse)

@suseagull04: It's RWRB, but from Henry's POV. The angst of the original is heightened in this (believe it or not, it can be done), but that makes the ending that much sweeter, and I loved the insight into Henry's thoughts!

somewhere in your world by @callmevenji (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Prince Henry, student at Oxford, tries to reach a hook-up gone wrong – and ends up texting someone else entirely: Alex. A deep chat friendship unfolds, while simultaneously Henry begins to fall for the charismatic FSOTUS. Whether it’s the universe at work, coincidence, or fate, the pleasure of reading this heartfelt fic is indescribably beautiful !!

In the Grand Scheme of Things by @itsmaybitheway (book/movie-verse)

@suseagull04: Meet cute at a wedding, instant attraction, intellectual banter- this fic has it all! Plus this is the best AU characterization of firstprince I've seen in a while, it's fantastic!

marked by rizcriz (book/movie-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: a soulmate AU with some extra drama - Henry learns that the reason he hasn't met his soulmate was his grandmother's plotting. Extremely well executed - my heart was breaking and then singing when it all turned out well.

Someday Soon I’ll See You (But Now You’re Out of Sight) by MaryaDmitrievnaLikesSundays (book-verse)

@dot524: In the mood for some intense angst? I needed like two business days to recover from reading this one. The story is a devastating view of complex grief as different characters deal with Alex’s death. I thought that the odd and asynchronous ways the grief manifests for different people was raw, real, and well done.

peace by @raysletters (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This is the Sky High AU I didn't know I needed! I love how this isn't a carbon copy of the movie but uses each character's strengths and weaknesses- and it's also just a very cute magic high school AU, which is just the cherry on top!

Son of a Gun by foux_dogue (book-verse)

@na-dineee: I hope you’ve all read 'It's not a secret' by now? I wasn't aware until it was published, but I needed that follow-up so badly! In this fic, which can be read as a standalone, Alex cuts down his work as a tattoo artist to take care of the kids (good thing Henry is loaded) and inevitably has to deal with the Milton-Saylor Academy Mom Squad. Absolutely wholesome, full of domesticity—just like, excellent!

You Set The Tone by @iboatedhere (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Alex is an emergency room doctor and Henry a pediatrician in the same hospital, and their animosity (read: infatuation) with each other began just as unfortunate as in canon. Their gradual coming together, intertwined with the medical emergencies, is wonderfully crafted. The tension is effortlessly maintained over 70k words, never feeling contrived. I was so moved while reading, it hurt phenomenally good, and I cried more than I have in a long time.

pick your poison babe (im poison either way) by sheWritesToLiveVicariously (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Co-workers to lovers with lots of emotion and a touch of angst—it never gets old, right? This 5+1 story is part of the "little moments that pass us by" series, and like all the stories in it, it's rather short, but full of feeling, very soft, and so touching. I'm already looking forward to hopefully many more fics in this series.

Down In The Valley by @aforgottennymph (book-verse)

@daisymae-12: This Stardew Valley AU was such a lovely read and as an avid stardew valley player, I thoroughly enjoyed all the little easter eggs and references to the game. Even if you’ve never played Stardew, this is still such a sweet and delightful read!!

[minhosimthings]

Cherry Chapstick

Synopsis: Chapstick being the most romantic part of your wedding ceremony was something you had never planned. Even so when the session that came afterwards was the best you had ever had

Pairings: Jake × fem!reader, non idol au

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, fluff at the beginning, smut with plot, fingering, overstimulation, oral (f.recieving), overstimulation, dacryphillia, rough sex, unprotected sex (not for you baby), Jake calls reader many nicknames, there's a wedding scene and a very sappy vows scene because I am a simp

A/N: to simply put it I wanted to write a Jake wedding scene so I wrote it and then I proceeded to add some more plot to it AND THEN I wrote some nice wedding sex at the end because why not? Also please tell me how yall feel about this I NEED TO KNOW.

How could we ever know that the stars love us? How could we ever tell that the constellations form pretty panoramas just for us? How could we ever tell that our souls are just parts of those stars that have been broken up into two and that we have to find the other half just to keep going?

The answers to questions which have been unanswered for centuries can never be revealed to the world, lest everyone knows what was needed for you to find those answers. Might it be a little boring of me to say the only answer to all those questions is love? But of course love is powerful.

Love is the word you'd used to describe the time your mother used to braid your hair. Love would be the syllable coming out of your mouth when you took a scent of the new book Amazon so amazingly delivered you. Love would be the fluffy haired boy sitting next to you, leaning against a tree and trying to understand what's written in his physics book, while biting his lips voraciously.

"Jake for God's sake-" you rolled your eyes, fumbling with the straps of your bag, "-stop biting those pretty lips of yours."

Jake tilted his head to look at you and grinned. "You know I can't do that darling." He cocked a smile, edging ever closer to you, "I bite my lips when I'm nervous and if a pretty girl is in front of me all the time, how could I never not be nervous?" You tried to gave him a stern look as you pulled out a pink coloured tube from the interior of your bag. "You and your flirting skills aren't gonna get you anywhere Sim Jaeyun." You scoffed, uncapping the lip balm. Bringing a hand up to his cheek, you held his face in position as you carefully applied the lip balm onto Jake's soft albeit broken lips. He popped his lips together after you let go of his face and took the lip balm from your hands. "baby I already have my lip balm on." You sniggered, trying to escape from his hands. "Nuh uh how will I taste the lip balm properly then?" Jake argued, sticking his tongue out in concentration and carefully applying the lip balm onto your lips.

He brought his lips to yours as soon as he was finished and pressed then tightly, trying to taste the lingering bitterness of the balm.

The kiss didn't last as long as you would have liked it too, as Jake pulled back and closed his eyes, a picture of him in deep thought. "Ah ha!" He snapped his eyes open along with a snap of his fingers, "It's blueberry isn't it?"

You hung your head and sighed dramatically. "Yeah it is." You grumbled to which Jake positively exploded. "I knew it would be blueberry!" He giggled and pulled out a tiny green notebook, frantically writing something in it.

"You're still keeping track of all the lip balms?" You peeked inside his notebook, which had beautiful cursive writing sprawled across the pages.

"How could I not?" Jake scoffed, looking up at you with a cheeky grin, "I have to keep track of my girlfriend's love for me don't I?" "That book is almost full Jayeun." You rested your head on his shoulder, breathing in his sweet cologne, "Plus the only reason you write in that notebook is to note all the times you've tasted the lip balm from my lips." "It tastes better that way!" Jake defended himself, earning himself a giggle from you.

"How many flavours of lip balm do you think exist on the world?" You asked him, head still rested on his shoulder and hands warmed by his. Jake laughed softly and wrapped his arms around you. "No matter how many there are, I promise to buy every single one of them and apply them on those pretty lips of yours so I can taste them."

Yet another giggle escaped your lips at your boyfriend's flirtatious nature. The air around you seemed to cool down as the evening slowly set in. Time never seemed to pass when you were with Jake, carefully applying lip balm to his cracked lips and him kissing it off of yours, like a sun sweet lullaby.

"I am so fucking proud of you." Jake hugged you tightly in his arms, providing you with warmth, and pressed soft kisses to your head. Your graduation cap hung clumsily on your head as everyone around you hugged and cheered loudly.

"Valedictorian huh?" Jake grinned at you, not letting go of your waist, "My smart little baby." "Not little anymore Jaeyun." You looked at him, "We're finally 21!" Jake chuckled and pulled you in for another hug, stroking your hair gently. "Oh I have a surprise for you." Jake pulled you aside from the screaming frat boys ripping off their shirts. "You mean a surprise other than the ten million surprises you've gotten for me since yesterday?" You giggled while Jake glared at you playfully.

"This is going to be the best surprise and oh best part?" He poked his cheek with his tongue, "It's up at our tree."

"Jake this is....." You gasped, "So beautiful." The tree had never looked prettier than it had now. A mighty willow tree, it had always stood strong, letting you and Jake lean against it, cooling down from the shade of the leaves. You hadn't ever noticed it's true beauty until now. Fairy lights and white satin ribbons hung from the tree like dangling angel wings.

"You like it?" Jake looked at you with uncertainty clouding his expression. "Are you kidding?" You laughed, "I fucking love this. And I love you." You booped his nose, causing a giggle to come out of his mouth. "Oh but that's not the only thing!" Jake clapped his hands excitedly, "I got you a new chapstick too!"

He reached into his bag slowly and bought out a purple coloured tube, handing it to you. You took it from his soft hands and examined it. Lavender probably, you thought, before your eyes went to something else on the chapstick.

A ring.

A beautiful emerald ring.

"Earth to Y/N." Jake waved his hands in front of your face, snapping you out from your staring contest with the chapstick. "Jake I-" "Y/N I don't think I can tell you in words how much I truly love you." Jake kneeled down in front of you, as tears enveloped your eye lids, "But if I had to choose two words to tell you, it would be-" he took the ring from your hands,

"Marry me?"

The rest of that evening passed in tears, cheap beer, and showing off your ring finger, beautifully decorated with the piece of emerald to your friends and family, earning big, warm embraces from there. But nothing was better that day than Jake's bright smile engulfing his face, as he kissed you over and over again. Every second seemed to be precious to him, as he wasted not even a grain of sand in peppering kisses to your face.

You had always heard from your mother that the days leading upto the wedding must be cherished and remembered forever. But for some reason unknown to you as well as the world, you didn't even have a single morsel of memory from those days. It was a wedding dress fitting one and the cake the other day and suddenly it was the day of the wedding.

The venue was beautiful, blue satin decorating the seams just like you had wanted, with everyone dressed in baby blue, well almost everyone as your older brother, Heeseung admired your beautiful white dress.

"You look beautiful Y/N stop worrying." "Im not worrying Heeseung." You scoffed, as you clutched your flowers tightly, "Alright I'm ready."

Blur was a proper word to describe how you felt while you walked down the aisle, arm looped around Heeseung's. You did not notice the tear stains of all your relatives and friends, nor did you notice your favourite melody playing in the background.

All that was on your mind was Jake. Standing beneath a beautiful arrangement of lilies, dressed handsomely in a white suit, with a big goofy grin on his face, and a few crystals in his eyes, he looked like heaven's incarnate. Well atleast your, heaven's incarnate.

"Baby~" he cooed as you stepped in front of him, "You look like an angel." He caressed your cheek as a single teardrop fell out of its prison.

"The vows." Sunghoon whispered from behind Jake's back as he cleared his throat loudly and looked down at a piece of paper, his hands trembling. You placed your own hand on top of his, providing him a sense of calm as his hands stopped shivering and he took a deep breath.

"You know I never really understand why people wrote vows and everything when they get married. I mean-" he chuckled, "What more words can describe the person you're about to be with for the rest of eternity? But when I was writing this, going through my cringy diaries for inspiration, and getting drunk on the whiskey Sunghoon so graciously gifted me-" the crowd laughed, as you giggled at Jake unseriousness, "I realised that these words are not to you, and not to the entire world to hear, but to me." He paused and took a breath, "They are to tell me what I truly fell for. Because if I'm going to be honest, I fell for a lot of things." You felt tears form in your ears, which you struggled to hold back, "Pinpointing the thing that made me tell you that my heart years for you is a difficult thing. It could be sitting with you under a tree, relishing the autumn sunlight. It could be gazing at all the stars in the sky with you, knowing you're the prettiest one out of all of them." You let out a choked sob at that, and wiped a tear from your ear. You saw Jake's eyes soften more as he caressed your cheek gently. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, you're a panorama of all the things I didn't know I had been searching for my entire life Y/N. I love you. God I love you so much. I'll write my love for you in the waves, if it means you'll be satisfied. I'll etch it onto my very heart if that means you'll fall for me again." The chirping of the birds and the honeycomb scent never seemed sweeter that they were now, as they played to the melody of Jake's voice, " You, my dearest, are the sunlight falling through the trees, the joy breaking through the sadness, you are my descent to madness, my chaos and my peace, my black and white. You are my world and if you weren't in life, I would still be alive, just not living."

Your world has never seemed so pretty before, so filled with flowers and pink satin and whatnot, as you looked on at Jake's eyes, always filled with Saturn's rings, at his hair, which reminded you on Sunday dates and lazy Monday mornings, at his lips, yet again cracked and dry.

"Oh and I almost forgot." Jake perked up, reaching into his breast pocket and taking out a red coloured tube. You recognised it. Cherry Chapstick.

"You've always taken care of me, my Y/N, and more so of my lips. I think they're grateful for you to have entered and saved their lives, otherwise my lips would have been blood by now."

"We've always had this pretty tradition, where I'd kiss the chapstick right off of your lips, pretending I can taste it better like that. Which is not entirely a lie, because things always taste better when they're filled with love don't they? So my dearest-" He pressed the chapstick into your hands.

"Would you like to kiss it off of my lips today?"

Your heart had already erupted into a million shards of pink and red and it seemed that Jake reached into your soul now, tearing it apart and placing himself inside it, wrapping it around him like a blanket. You looked down at the chapstick, slowly uncapping it. Cherry, of course, the first flavour of chapstick you had ever applied on him.

You caressed Jake's cheek gently and applied the lip balm onto his lips, as he looked down at you, holding your universe in his brown orbs. You leaned forward to him, getting drunk on his cologne.

Kisses were your favourite part of the day, brushing your lips against his, his arms holding your waist ever so gently as yours wrapped around his neck. And now, as you kissed him in a slow dance of sensuality, with every ounce of love in you, fingers searching for him and only him, as everyone cheered in the background, you knew that this was something your memory would remember even in death. Till death do us part, right?

"Angel?" Jake whispered, as you climbed onto the bed, your veil and dress now deposited on the ground. "Yes Jake?" You answered as he got on top of you, cologne still poisoning your nostrils. "I love you so much." He said as he bent down to you neck, kissing it with the same lips that you had enjoyed today. "I love you too Jak- ah fuck." You moaned, as Jake left deeper kisses and marks onto your collarbone.

"I'll prove it." Jake whispered again, fingers digging into your waist, "Prove my love." "Jake ngh-" you moaned again, as his bulge pressed against your panties. You had thought that buying new lingerie in Jake's favourite colour for you to wear on the night of your wedding would be a good idea and it was, as Jake carried you upstairs to the bedroom, eyes faltering as you revealed what was under the layer of tulle.

"Are you ready Mrs Sim?" Jake looks at you with darkened eyes. You whimper in response to him, trapped under his body, your cunt itching for something.

He kisses you more desperately than before, his hands finding your hips as he gently grabs them, pulling you so close that you can feel his erection. You gasp so softly, but he hears it anyway, and you settle on his hard cock so it’s right against where you want it to be.

Jake's taking his sweet time at first, kissing down your thighs and even smelling you before he finally brings his tongue to your entrance.

"Jake- don't tease." You whine, feeling his hair brush against the skin of your leg. He chuckles and rests your legs on his shoulders.

Jake doesn’t waste more time and properly starts to fuck you with his tongue. He’s not too quick, nor too slow with his moves, and you’re shocked when he brings his fingers to your mouth. 

He says nothing, making sure to lick your slit before getting his tongue inside you again, his fingers, glued to your lips. You take it as a silent agreement and you open your mouth, suck his fingers, and let him wet them. When he thinks it’s enough, he gently takes them out and brings them right to your clit. He doesn’t touch it directly at first, teasing around it until you move your hips a little, needing to feel your clit stimulated.

Your skin was so soft under his touch, so warm. You smelled so good. He could get lost in the scent of your skin, melt underneath it. He wanted to feel you all, touch you all and as you ground your hips back and forth and your nipples brushed his chest, your husband felt like he had bought a piece of heaven all for himself. 

Your whines and tightened grip on his curls must have alerted him as he loosened his grip on your pussy and looked up at you.

"Tell me what you want darling." He rose up to your level, admiring your moonlit face, "Your fingers- please." You said, feeling his warm breath on your skin, the veins on his hand turning you on.

Your whole body is on edge, and it almost hurts. Every fiber of your body aches for his touch until your breath gets stuck and breaks through your throat in a moan. His long fingers start to move in and out of you with a rapid speed. He massages your walls, stretching and filling you while your clit burns and makes your hips jerk. You grind against his palm, forcing him deeper and deeper.

Jake can almost feel the hot coil in your lower belly. It stretches to the point your lips part in a throaty moan, breathing in and out his name repeatedly. He closes his eyes at your prayer, biting the soft spot between your shoulder and neck as you cum on his fingers. You suck him in, trembling in his strong arms until you are limp and sated.

"Don't worry baby." Jake gasped, a thin line of sweat enveloping him, "I'll finish you good."

He pushed himself into you inch by inch, your warm folds wrapping around him perfectly. Jake groaned at the damp and tight feeling surrounding him, head falling back in pleasure as he settled perfectly within you.

You moaned once more, loudly this time as he started thrusting, his rhythm steady yet forceful. You repeatedly called his name, hands gripping the edge of the bed as you shake in pleasure. Your husband looked down to watch himself disappear inside you, eyes filled with darkness and pride every time his hips meet yours. He grabbed your thighs and pushed your legs forward, almost keeping them against your chest.

"Just like that baby." Jake whispered to your whimpers, "Moan for me come on now." "Jake -ah - want-to cum." You moaned, tears forming from the overstimulation.

You knew you were close when you started to feel something up in your lower stomach, the urge to cum increases with every thrust. You knew Jake was close too when you felt him twitch inside you, a warm liquid beginning to leak.

“I know, baby. Cum with me. C’mon, pretty girl.” He whispered closely in your ear, maintaining the speed of his thrusts as he rubbed your clit faster. You could feel the amazing sensation of warmth touch your clit gently as Jake's cum shot into you.

You almost screamed when you reached your orgasm, Jake following shortly after with a deep groan. Neither of you moved for a while, still breathless and shaking.

Jake rubbed your back and slowly pulled himself out of you, both of you moaning in the process. You sighed as he collapsed on the bed next to you, pulling you into his arms. The moonlight was in her full glimmer now, as it illuminated both of your faces.

"That-" you breathed out, "was quite possibly the best you've ever fucked me." Jake chuckled lowly and kissed the top of your head gently.

"Anything for you, my dearest." He whispered, as you felt sleep coming into your corneas.

"Jake?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you." You giggled.

"I love you too angel."

[nateezfics]

111 + 118 + 126 + Jongho - 💋

111 — “just sit on my fucking face already.”

118 — “s-stop leaving marks on my neck. i have a presentation first thing in the morning.” “then i get to leave marks anywhere below the neck?”

126 — “why’d you stop?” “because you sounded too fucking good and so i had like, a moment.”

smut/nsfw; oral (f receiving), face sitting, marking; mdni

sex wasn’t necessarily on your mind at first, but after soft kisses turned into a deep, needy make out on your boyfriend’s couch, things quickly escalated.

jongho’s lips traveled down the length of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. you whined above him and your fingers tangled into his hair just as he stopped to suck on a particularly sensitive part of your neck. he was undoubtedly intending to leave marks, something he loved to do when he had you like this. you whined, pushing him away until his mouth detached from your neck. “s-stop leaving marks on my neck. i have a presentation first thing in the morning.”

jongho gazed up at you, and from the way he smirked, it almost seemed like he didn’t even care about your presentation in the morning; like he wanted you to go up in front of everyone with his marks all over your skin. “then i get to leave marks anywhere below the neck?”

you huffed. “yes, just anywhere but my neck.” your skin prickled with anticipation as you thought about his mouth all over your skin. you were kissing him again a moment later, your mouths slotting together in a mess of teeth and tongue. clothes fell away rapidly until you were both bare and you were fully seated on his cock.

jongho sucked on the skin between your breasts just as his hands brought your hips down again, cock driving into your cunt in a way that had both of you releasing a string of curses. your chest was littered with his masks, a constellation of red and blue hues. he continued, lips sucking on every inch of skin he could reach while you bounced on his cock.

you were a complete mess already. with his mouth all over you and his cock stretching you wide, you were like a broken record, moans and cries falling from your mouth continuously. you felt too good to even attempt to keep quiet, and quickly you began to tumble towards your release until you felt his hands hold you in place, effectively ripping your orgasm out of your reach. “why’d you stop?”

he groaned into your chest, fingertips digging crescents into your flesh. “because you sounded too fucking good so i had like,” jongho paused and sucked in a breath, “a moment. and god, you’re so tight. i’m about to fucking bust, and i don’t wanna cum this soon.”

you laughed breathlessly while you raked your fingers through his hair. “am i affecting you that much, hm?”

jongho nodded. “god damn it, yes. now get up so i can lay on the floor. i want you to sit on my face. this way, i can make sure you get to cum before i take you on my cock again.”

you did as he said, though hesitantly. you were quick to miss the fullness of his cock, gazing upon it longingly as he situated himself on the carpeted floor. you straddled his waist. “are you sure? i mean, is the floor comfortable enough? we don’t have to —”

“just sit on my fucking face already.” his tone left no room for argument. you situated your thighs on either side of his head before sinking down. his tongue met with your clit and you moaned at the contact. his strong hands gripped your thighs and pulled your cunt further onto his face, leaving him little room to breathe, but he didn’t care. he lapped and sucked at your pussy like a man starved, and with his grip keeping you in place, you could only sit there and yield to the pleasure he gave you. “i’m gonna make you fall apart all over my face, and if you’re good, i’ll let you have my cock again.”

[candycandy00]

The Maiden’s Voyage - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 2

You’re a passenger on a ship attacked by pirates. The pirate captain Sukuna chooses you to be his entertainment for the voyage.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. AU. Sukuna as a Pirate Captain. Noncon/Rape! Very rough sex! Bondage. Violence. Blood. Sukuna is a cruel, sadistic monster here! You’ve been warned!

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! There will be multiple parts because I got really attached to this idea and it was getting too long. Any feedback, comments, reblogs, etc. will make my day sunny and bright! 💖 Dividers by @benkeibear!

Your body was not made to stretch this far, to bend this much to another’s whims, so he will break you. He’s already broken you a dozen times by now. 

Captain Sukuna has spent the past four days using you as his plaything, his toy to have fun with and then smash on the floor when he’s done. Your skin is covered in bruises from being thrown around the room, shoved into any position he wants you in. There’s a constellation of bloody marks all over you, from being bitten or pinched too hard. Your entire body is sore.

Right now, he’s fucking you against the wall of his cabin, the soft skin of your bare back scraping over the hard wood as he repeatedly slams you back into it. Your legs dangle on either side of him, his firm body pressed into you as his cock roughly assaults your aching pussy. Your hands weakly clutch his strong shoulders, your eyes full of tears. In this position, face to face, you have no choice but to look into his gleaming ruby eyes as he abuses you. 

It hurts. It always hurts. He makes sure of that. 

You’ve given up trying to be strong, trying to hold back your tears or your screams. He’ll tear them out of you one way or another. So you shake with sobs as you drop your head, your face buried in his neck. 

He seems to like this, to like how pitiful and broken you are, because you feel his enormous cock twitch within you, and seconds later he’s shooting his seed directly into your deepest parts. 

After he completely empties himself, he pulls out and then unceremoniously drops you onto the floor. You wince at the impact on your bruised flesh, then scurry over to the tattered, shabby dress he gave you to wear when you’re not being fucked by him. You quickly pull it over your head, eager to cover yourself up. 

Sukuna sits on his bed, his legs spread, totally confident and comfortable in his nakedness. Even now, despite how cruelly he treats you, you find it difficult not to look at him. He draws your eyes to him at all times, with his perfectly sculpted body. 

He notices your gaze and smirks at you. “You like my tattoos, don’t you?” he asks. 

You pry your eyes away, feeling heat rush to your face. “No,” you say. 

“Lying little cunt,” he says, though his tone is more playful than angry. “You’re practically salivating. Come here.”

You know better than to keep him waiting, so you step over to him. He reaches out and grabs one of your hands, pulling it to his chest. “Touch them,” he says, looking at you with an expression that makes your knees wobble. You relax your clenched fingers, lightly pressing them to one of the black lines of ink. They feel the same as the rest of his skin, but there’s something lurid about having your fingertips on them. 

Your heart races, your breaths come faster, and you slide your fingers down, tracing the tattooed lines. He’s not even gripping your hand anymore. 

“Most women find them frightening,” he says, his voice slightly softer than usual as he watches you. “But they turn you on, don’t they?”

You nod, still distracted. Your fingers keep moving down, to his lower abdomen, feeling the taut muscles there, following the lines lower, over the thin patch of soft pink hair that trails down to his hardening cock. You pause, pulling your hand away. 

He takes hold of it again, pulling it back to his groin. “Don’t stop now. Touch me as you please,” he says huskily, his face close to yours. 

You slowly return your hand, sliding it down until your fingertips graze over his shaft. Gently, hesitantly, you wrap your fingers around the base of it, where the tattoos are. 

Sukuna reaches out and pulls your tattered dress up to your waist, then pulls you into his lap, forcing you to straddle his large thigh. Your bare pussy rests right where the black lines circle him. You’re a wet, sticky mess from just being fucked, but he doesn’t seem to mind. 

Gradually, you begin moving, rubbing yourself up and down his thigh, enjoying the friction of his muscles against your clit. 

He’s made you cum over and over again these past four days. Even though you find it humiliating, you’ve begun to crave the feeling, because it’s the only thing that feels good in a sea of pain.

*********************

Sukuna watches his toy grind on his thigh, relishing the feeling of her soft, wet pussy pressing onto him. Her hand, looking so small wrapped around his massive shaft, begins to move up and down, stroking him with careful, uncertain motions. He’ll have to teach her how to properly jack him off, but for now her nervous, shy little actions are cute enough to rile him up. 

She has such a beautiful face, even more beautiful when her eyes are glazed over and she’s panting, on the edge of climax. Even the dirty, hideous dress he gave her does nothing to disguise her loveliness. It doesn’t fit her well, the loose collar slipping off one of her shoulders as she continues moving, breathing hard, her body beginning to shudder. 

Her lips part, her face flushes, her hand is silky and warm on his cock. And he realizes something. 

“Have you ever been kissed?” he asks her, staring at her lips. 

She looks away, so bashful even while she’s chasing her own orgasm. “N-no, I haven’t,” she says. 

Such a cute, innocent little thing. 

He leans forward, pressing his lips to hers, kissing her gently before slipping his tongue into her mouth. She tastes so sweet, just like he imagined. When he pulls back, she’s looking at him as if she’s never seen him before, her hand grasping his cock a little tighter, her hips grinding on him a little faster. 

He watches her face while she cums, tears in her eyes, her breaths shallow and rapid. Such a pretty pretty face, all blissed out from her climax. She looks so precious, it makes him feel his own release approaching. 

So he shoves her off him, onto her knees on the floor, and points his cock at that beautiful face before covering it in cum. Ahh, this is how he likes her best, how she’s loveliest: when he’s dirtied and defiled her. 

She blinks rapidly, trying to wipe the cum off her long dainty eyelashes with her shaking hands. She sniffles as if she’s going to cry again. He decides to have pity on her. 

“Go into the washroom and clean yourself up,” he tells her. Two days ago he didn’t let her wash her face for hours, so she seems relieved as she gets to her feet. “Oh, and make yourself presentable,” he adds. “You’ll be joining me on the deck tonight.”

She pauses, looking surprised, but he gives no explanation. She heads into his private washroom and emerges later, looking clean and fresh despite the ragged dress. She’s tied it in places and done her best to make it at least look neat, but there’s very little she can do for it. He finds the effort charming. 

“Let’s go then,” he says, and opens the door. She looks at him as if she’s suspicious, as if this is some trick. He’s never allowed her out of his quarters before. He laughs. “We’re just going to enjoy some entertainment out in the open sea air. No need to worry.”

A look of terror passes over her face. She’s probably imagining something heinous. Maybe she thinks he’s going to strip her and rape her in front of his crew, or hand her over to them to enjoy. Perhaps she thinks he’s going to murder her, or someone else. He finds her fear amusing, so he does nothing more to calm it. He simply steps out of the room and gestures for her to follow. 

She only hesitates a moment, then she joins him. He holds out his arm to her, as the rich nobles do when escorting a lady. She takes it, but her eyes remain downcast, full of dread. 

When they reach the upper deck, the festivities are just getting started. Several men among the crew are talented musicians, and they’re merrily playing their favored instruments, creating a lively, energetic song. Torches are lit everywhere, and some men have set up small booths where they’re handing out food they’ve made for the occasion or serving drinks. 

The maiden on his arm looks around in wonder, the fear that had haunted her pretty face now gone. “What is all this?” she asks, so surprised by the sight that she spoke to him like a normal person rather than a terrified captive. 

He grins down at her. “We sold off the haul we got from the ship you were on. Whenever we end up with more gold than we expected, we like to throw a party to celebrate.”

Her eyes dart around, as if she’s searching for something. “Where are the other women?”

“In the brig, I assume,” he says as he leads her toward his reserved spot in the middle of the deck. 

This seems to bother her, but she doesn’t say anymore about it. Sukuna sits on the plush cushion laid out for him, then pulls her into his lap. 

“Just for tonight, enjoy yourself. If there’s anything you want to eat or drink, say so. Just don’t leave my side.”

She nods, looking shy again. She spends the next couple hours sampling the foods he has brought over, but only taking a few sips of the rum. Sukuna himself drinks several mugs of it, enjoying the buzz and heat of the alcohol. 

The music continues to play, and many of the pirates begin dancing. The maiden watches them with warm eyes. Sukuna watches them too, then turns to her. “Do you want to dance?”

She looks away, flustered. “No, I… I don’t even know how.”

Sukuna downs another mug of rum. He’s never truly been drunk, but drinking this much does make him a little freer with his thoughts and words, putting him in a slightly better mood. He stands up, pulling her with him. “Anyone can dance,” he tells her. “You think these riffraff ever had lessons?”

She glances around at the dancing pirates, all of them moving however they please, no coordination. Sukuna pulls her against him and swings around, moving both their bodies across the deck as the music plays. 

The look of surprise on her face makes him grin. The light of the stars above their heads is reflected in her glass-like eyes. He spins her around, thinking that even the ugly dress she’s wearing looks stunning while flowing around her. 

He can’t wait to take her back to his quarters and fuck her again, to feel her writhing beneath him, begging him for mercy as he takes her by force. 

**********************

You’re not sure how you feel as Sukuna pulls you into the dance, swaying you in time with the cheerful music. He seems to be in good spirits tonight, and his laugh is infectious. Is it the rum? Or the overall happy and excited feel of the evening? Either way, you feel a bit of relief. Perhaps he won’t be so harsh with you tonight. 

At some point, as he twirls you around and then pulls you back into his arms, you feel your own mood becoming brighter. You’re still a captive, still being hurt by him all the time, but your bruised body and aching heart  demand that you allow yourself just this moment to feel something other than pain and sorrow. 

The dance ends. The music finally stops, and the pirates begin clearing the deck. You feel the brief flash of joy instantly fade away as Sukuna takes your hand and leads you back toward his cabin. He grabs another mug of rum on his way and drains it quickly. 

Back in his room, he barely shuts the door before his hands are on you, sliding under the collar of your dress to squeeze your breasts. He’s standing behind you, his mouth on your neck. 

“So beautiful,” he mutters, and you freeze. Did he just call you beautiful? The rum must be affecting him. 

You can’t stop yourself from asking, “Me?”

He’s still kissing your neck, his hands still groping your flesh. “I’ve been to many lands,” he says, his voice deep and breathy, “I’ve sailed every sea. But I’ve never seen a woman more beautiful than you.”

You feel your heart beating faster. Why does hearing that make you feel this way? He’s a monster! He’s-

“You’re attracted to me, aren’t you?” he asks. 

“I… I’m…”

His hand moves down, pulling up the skirt of your dress and settling between your legs, his fingers probing, making your knees buckle. 

“Your body is honest. Why can’t you be?”

You shudder from the pleasure, leaning back against his chest. “Yes… I’m attracted to you.”

“Then don’t hold back,” he whispers into your ear. “I told you, touch me as you please.”

You look up at his face. Somehow it seems softer than before. You realize you do want to touch him, but you don’t want him to hurt you. Maybe… if you please him in your own way, would he be satisfied? 

Looking away from his eyes, you say shyly in a small voice, “Can you sit on the bed?”

He withdraws from you, and you hate to admit that you immediately miss his fingers. He moves over to the bed and sits down, his legs spread wide. He gives you a smug look. Of course he does. 

You step over and lower yourself to your knees, then begin unbuckling his belt and opening his pants. Your fingers shake and your heart pounds, but you manage to free his already hard cock from his clothes. You look at it for a moment, still marveled by its sheer size, then you look up into his eyes as you run your tongue from the base to the tip, along the underside. At the tip, you gently press your tongue in, tasting him thoroughly, before taking him into your mouth. 

This is so much more pleasant than the way he roughly fucks your mouth, with you being able to control how deep and how fast he goes. As you swirl your tongue around, coating him in saliva before easing him partway down your throat, you hear him draw in a sharp breath. He’s looking at you with those intense eyes, seeming slightly surprised. Perhaps he’s been so used to being forceful, he didn’t realize how good a slow, wet, adoring blowjob could feel. 

So you continue, treating his cock like it’s something precious, beloved. His hand falls on your head, his finger gently threading through your hair. His breaths sound deeper as you lightly suck on his tip before taking him down your throat again. When you feel him twitching, his grip on your hair tightening slightly, you pull away and hold your mouth open, extending your tongue. 

It’s an invitation, and he happily accepts, shooting his thick cum onto your waiting tongue. You pull it into your mouth, savoring the taste, letting him see it pooling inside before slowly swallowing it. 

A wide smile spreads over his face, and you feel a bizarre sense of pride that you pleased him. He stands up and pulls you to your feet, then quickly pulls your dress over your head, leaving you completely naked. He scoops you up into his arms and carries you bridal style to his bed, where he spreads you out like a meal. 

You watch him, breathless, as he climbs onto the bed, between your thighs, and buries his face in your pussy. You can’t suppress a moan when you feel his tongue slip between your folds and lick a stripe up to your clit. Your back arches as his fingers plunge in and out of you while his lips close around your sensitive and swollen nub. 

Your hands clench the sheets, your mouth falling open as he devours you. His tongue expertly dances over your flesh, making you scream out his name in ecstasy. Your legs begin to tremble, and his strong hands move to hold them down. 

Nothing has ever felt so good, and you have to fight back your own emotions. You can’t fall for him, for this beast who forces himself on you every day, who enjoys your suffering. But your body is singing to his tune, your heart fluttering at even the memory of the dance you shared. What is wrong with you?

Finally you reach release, your hand flying over to bury itself in his hair. He draws back to look at you as you pant to regain your breath. Then, all at once, he jerks your legs up, folding you in half. 

“W-wait!” you cry. You don’t think you could handle it if he hurt you now, when you’re so emotionally fragile. “Please, Sukuna, don’t hurt me. Not tonight.”

He bends down and kisses your neck. “Every night,” he murmurs against your skin, “all night. Now scream for me.” Then he rams his cock all the way inside you, fucking you harder than ever before. He’s positively ruthless, ignoring your pleas and cries. In the end your emotions are left frayed and burned, your body battered and bloody.  

The next day, you’re covered in fresh bruises, sitting on the floor of his cabin, when another pirate comes in. 

“We miscalculated a bit, Capn’. We’re gonna pass awfully close by the island.”

Sukuna frowns. “How close?”

The pirate hesitates, glances at you, then answers. “Close enough for cannon fire to hit us. But I don’t think there’s a strong military presence there. We should be able to squeak by without much trouble.”

“How soon?” Sukuna asks. 

“We can already see land, sir.”

Sukuna scoffs and the two men leave the cabin. You sit there replaying their conversation in your mind. 

Passing by an island? Close? You’ve always been a very good swimmer. Could you jump ship and swim to shore? Could you finally be free of this torment? 

You stand up and pace around the room. You go to the door twice but don’t open it. Why are you hesitating? Because you’re afraid? Or because your confused, broken heart has convinced you that you feel something for the brutal captain? 

Minutes pass by as you agonize over what to do. Part of you is ready to run out that door right now. But some tiny part is pulling you back to the captain’s bed. 

Finally, you snap back to your senses and run over to the door, easing it open and running outside. At first, the bright sun of the afternoon blinds you, but then you look from side to side. Where is the island?!

With a sense of horror, you realize there is no island. There’s only ocean as far as you can see in every direction. A few feet away, Sukuna is looking at you with a wicked grin. 

“You sure took your time,” he says in a cruel, mocking tone. “Most captives make a run for it within seconds. Don’t tell me you were thinking about staying?”

You open your mouth to reply, but no words come out. The sea wind whips around your face as tears flood your eyes. Sukuna walks over to you and grabs your limp arm. “But since you did eventually take the bait and try to escape, you’ll have to be punished. Severely.”

And then he drags you back to his quarters. 

[freshlove-sturn]

house on the cape II

pt1 pt2

based off of the “aquarium adventure + boys trip” vlog!

summary: when the triplets come back home from la, they reunite with their favorite summer tradition, staying in the house on the cape. amidst all of the familiar laughter, and reminiscing on old memories, y/n can’t ignore the feeling stirring in her heart. something that went deeper than friendship. as she grapples with the fact that her feelings for her lifelong best friend, matt, are more than what’s just at the surface, she must learn to navigate and balance the unspoken feelings, and the gut wrenching fear of risking it all.

……..

“wanna go to the beach?”

matt raises an eyebrow at me, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. the yellow glow of the porch light shining through the window illuminating his features in a way that egged on the butterflies in my stomach.

matt and i started sneaking out and walking to the beach on our restless summer nights here when we were 13. it was the first time i’ve ever broken a rule, and i was scared shitless that we would get caught. matt reassured me the whole time that it would just be our own little secret and promised we wouldn’t get in trouble.

after we locked our pinkies together, sealing the promise with a quick peck on our intertwined fingers, i didn’t need anymore convincing. i trusted matt more than anyone in the world.

with that, it posed no surprise to matt when i quickly nodded my head head yes, spinning on my heels to go get dressed into my swimsuit.

i pull my swimsuit top over my figure, reaching my hands behind my back to tie the loose straps.

“shit.” i mumble after several failed attempts.

i creep out of my room, back down the hallway to the kitchen, where matt was leaned against the counter on his phone, already changed into his swim trunks. my hands holding tight to the untied material.

“can you tie this for me?” i ask matt.

without question, matt sets his phone down on the counter and comes over to me. he gently gathers my hair in his hands and lays it over my left shoulder to get it out of the way, ensuring that he wouldn’t get my hair knotted in the straps.

he slowly pulls the straps taut and begins to tie them together. my skin feeling like it was engulfed in flames in the wake of every brush of his hands.

“is that good?” he asks, one hand rested at the small of my back.

“yep. perfect.” i say before turning around to look at him. i throw my sleep shirt on over my swimsuit. with it being 2 sizes too big, it perfectly covered my whole torso, stopping just above my knees.

we make our way down to the beach. a soft breeze howling through the trees, creating perfect ambiance, synchronizing with the sound of the crickets chirping. the full moon in the sky casting the perfect glow on our path. the comfortable silence that rests between us makes me feel more at home than i had felt about a week ago alone in my own room, my best friend across the country in la.

“beautiful night, huh?” matt’s voice is just above a whisper.

“it is.” i agree, redirecting my attention from the ground below me to the boy walking beside me, who to my surprise, already had his eyes fixated on me.

soon the ground shifts from the rough pavement of the sidewalk, to sand, shifting and leaving behind foot prints as we walk. we climb on top of a large rock that we had claimed as our own 12 summers ago.

we sit next to each other, our knees touching. there was plenty of room for the both of us to have our own personal space, without having to be attached at the hip. but neither of us bothered to move.

“there’s the big dipper.” i tell matt, pointing up at the constellation above us.

“those two stars point to the north star, the only star that doesn’t move. everything else spins around it. but it stays the same.” i inform him.

and that’s exactly how i felt about matt.

no matter how much our lives changed, however far we were from each other, my love for him always stayed the same.

when the triplets youtube career started blowing up, i felt the same. when he moved across the country, leaving me in boston, never once did my feelings for him falter. dating rumors of him and other girls far prettier than me? hurt? sure. my feelings for him? the exact same.

“you wanna swim?” matt’s voice cuts through my thoughts, i hadn’t even realized that i was lost in them.

“that’s a silly question.” i laugh, standing up from my spot on the rock and climbing down to the shore line. the cool water spilling over my feet.

we make our way deeper into the ocean, slowly but surely acclimating to the water. we finally get to where the water came up to just below my collar bone.

matt scoops me up, dunking me under the water with him. “matt!” i screech through a series of giggles once we break the surface.

“cmon you knew it was coming.” matt laughs.

“you’re so annoying.” i shove him playfully.

i hadn’t even realized just how close we were. mere inches between us. our eyes locked on each other’s for god knows how long. my gaze flickers to his lips for a split second without my consent, praying he didn’t notice. i knew he did when he followed suit. my heart starts racing, beating out of my chest, i swear i could hear it echoing off the water. the short distance between us seemed to be getting shorter and shorter, shrinking agonizingly slowly.

nervous as all hell, considering i could feel my best friends breath on my lips, i reach for my necklace. a nervous habit i picked up over the years, just to feel my bare skin under my finger tips. i immediately freak out. that necklace was the one thing that made me feel close to matt when he was gone.

“shit! my necklace.” i panic, completely ruining the moment.

matt pulls back quickly, startled by my sudden outburst.

“i swear i just had it on.” i stutter.

“oh shit y/n. it must’ve fell off when i took you under water.” he tells me, looking at my bare neck.

before i could say anything else, matt went under, searching the ocean floor for the jewelry.

he’s down there for a while and i start to get panicked all over again, as soon as i brace myself to go under after the boy, he breaks the surface of the water.

holding the shell necklace in his hand.

“oh my god you found it!” i smile brightly, relieved.

“here turn around i’ll put it on for you.” he instructs.

i turn around and matt moves my hair over my shoulder. snaking the string around my neck, and tying it, making sure the knot was secure.

“honestly, i can’t believe you’ve held onto that for so long.” he admits, a slight chuckle leaving his throat.

“i never take it off.” i smile.

we make our way back to shore, deciding that it was time to head home.

once we get all dried off, i go to throw on my cover shirt, but with my luck, it was drenched.

“damn it.” i say under my breath.

“what?” matt turns around, seeing me hold the soaked piece of fabric.

“oh here, just wear mine.” before i can protest, he peels his tshirt over his head and tosses it to me. my eyes linger just a second too long on his torso, before slipping the shirt on over my head.

we walk back up the side walk, making our way back to the house.

“y’know that shell you found earlier that you thought looked like this one?” matt says, holding out his tattooed arm and pointing to the shell tattoo.

“mhm.” i nod.

“can i tell you something?” i can tell by the way his blue eyes stare into mine that he was being vulnerable.

“of course.” i answer.

“my tattoo, it’s actually of this shell.” he reaches out and grabs the shell strung on my necklace.

my best friend has a tattoo of the exact moment i realized i was in love with him.

…..

a/n: kind of a shit ending to this part my bad 😭

taglist: @ribread03 @billy9669 @lovesturni0l0s @p4lxouterbanks @blablablabla2525 @bbernard-03 @sturniololvrrr @hayhjelmstad15

[icysnails]

I just learned that Welt is likely 6'3 and as a small individual I'm slightly terrified but also... Ugh the thought of him leaning down for a kiss has me so whipped... Any ideas for that my friend? 👀

Hello!! A little while ago I was looking over the heights for Honkai characters and I realized that Welt and like half of the Hoyoverse men are all so tall it's unbelievable (╥﹏╥)

I’m also a small individual so I always imagine Welt bending down for pretty much any kind of kisses/hugs- Welt seems so sweet and I feel he would be extra sweet about this (˵ •̀ ᴗ •́ ˵ ) ✧ 

I hope you enjoy and I hope you have a fabulous day!!

Welt Kissing a Short!Reader 

Warnings: Kissing, height difference/reader is shorter than welt

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Welt x gn!reader

Word count: 800

Welt is the oldest resident of the Astral Express and is also the calmest of the other members. He acts as a mediator between his friends, often lending Himeko and Pom Pom a hand when managing the express and making sure Dan Heng gets a break from March’s excitement. He’s a deeply respectful man who holds the people he cares about close to his heart and wants everyone to stay safe and content above all else. He cherishes you, and his main priority has become your protection and happiness. 

So, he wouldn’t be much of a tease when it comes to your height. Welt loves every part of you and he wouldn’t want to make fun of you for anything, even if you explicitly said you were fine with it. He doesn’t make a point of bringing it up or rubbing the height difference in your face, beyond casually mentioning it in conversation if the situation calls for it. He also knows that he is incredibly tall himself, and that pretty much everyone is small compared to him. That doesn’t mean he fully ignores it though- secretly, he thinks your height difference is adorable. 

His height and strength grant him the ability to scoop you up in his arms to hug you or carry you wherever you need to go. He does this more often than one might think, but you don’t mind. But above all else, he loves kissing you. To him, it’s like a promise of love and protection, and the look in his eyes shows that he’d give you the entire universe if you asked for it. It may sound old fashioned, but there’s just something extra romantic about it for him, something that leaves him with flushed cheeks, dilated pupils, and a pounding heart. 

Often, these kisses take place on the express or away from other people. But if you want one when you’re out on a mission, he’ll get more flushed and decomposed than usual, but will still happily oblige. In truth, he's just happy that he gets to kiss you at all since you’re undoubtedly his favorite person in the entire galaxy.

Welt can’t keep his eyes off you.

He's been trying to focus on stargazing out of the Express’ expansive windows, but even the stars couldn’t stop his mind from wandering back to you.

It doesn’t help that you’re standing next to him, marveling at the luminary masterpieces that dot the void of the galaxy, entirely unaware of his staring. Your eyes are full of light and hope, lips parted slightly as the light of the stars reflects in your irises. Welt’s heart swells at the sight- it always does whenever he sees you happy. A loving smile blooms on his lips as takes a small step closer to you, discreetly taking your hand in his. 

His fingers gently lace with your own and the warmth of his skin envelops your palm. Your attention on the vast constellations is broken then, and your awestruck gaze meets his. You return his smile and squeeze his hand comfortingly, heat rising up your neck from how gently he’s looking at you. He cups the side of your face, a deep chuckle vibrating through his chest as he bends over slightly so he’s level with your eyes. He leans in and captures your lips with his, cradling the back of your head to pull you closer, hands light and careful on your body as if you’re made of porcelain. 

His eyes remain dazed and half-lidded while yours flutter shut, neck straining slightly as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. When you break away, Welt smiles, his cheeks heated and red as you open your eyes and gaze lovingly at him. He pulls you against him affectionately, turning back to look at the stars. You close your eyes again out of comfort as his hand rests on your waist, wrapping your arms around his torso and leaning into him in response. He leans down again to press a kiss to the top of your head, palm soothingly running up and down your side. 

No, Welt doesn’t mind leaning down at all, not if it means he gets to kiss you. Your touch means more to him than the blessings of any Aeon, and there is nothing he wouldn’t do to feel your lips on his once more. When you’re on missions and apart for long periods of time, Welt wallows in the memories of your kisses, desperately wanting to bend over and pull you close and crash his lips onto yours, even if he knows it’s impossible due to your absence.

He knows you’ll come back though, you always do. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. 

And when you do, he knows he’ll have the chance to kiss you, making his heart and soul feel complete again.

[rawliverandgoronspice]

Gantober #4 - Seafoam

(Wind Waker, Ganondorf & Beedle, non-graphic violence)

Tearing himself off a broken seal, Ganondorf discovers his homeland disfigured by an endless sea —and a stranger calling it home willing to help.

(Full disclosure: I'm flying off the seat of me poorly remembering my decade-old Wind Waker walkthrough and details gleaned back on vague research I did over a year ago, so I do apologize for any dubiously canon choices made here)

---

Ganondorf had waged wars larger than the sky. He had crushed skulls under his boot as an afterthought. He had basked in roaring infernos, found comfort in the musk of old blood. Even his own torment, either while sealed beyond reality or when his body had twisted to unnatural shapes from his restless abuse of Power, he had grown to rely upon as something expected —and therefore, under his control.

But there he stood, stranded on a mere constellation of sand in the middle of the night, staring on and on at the black sea surrounding him from all sides.

And nothing seemed to stomp his rising horror.

Salt. He didn’t mind salt, usually. Here, it was dizzying. A wound in the earth. A wound where Hyrule —his Hyrule— used to be. Water had swallowed all of it. In the darkest depths of the sea, there lied his castle, his hard-earned victories, the villages he sacked and those erected in their place by the monsters serving him. He may have broken the seal forced upon him, but his entire life slumbered down the abyss. For how long did he drift, outside of time and space? There was nothing left but salt. Angry froth surrounding him from all sides. The Goddesses did not care for what they once called holy. What was there even to yearn for anymore, beyond wreckage and mud?

The infernos had all drowned. Even he was now drenched and cold; his ageless bones incapable of resisting neither the waves or the rain.

He did not notice the boat that beached nearby until it was too late, and it took its sailor two attempts to finally catch his attention.

“All good sir?”

Ganondorf tore his eyes from the shore. The man who screamed at him from the deck was a stickbug of a hylian, with a horrendous bowl cut and a drooping pink nose. His sunkissed, freckled skin shivered under the tremors of a coming storm, but still: he smiled, with concern. “Not to assume nothin’, but it’s a sad old place to be shipwrecked if you ask me!”

Hands on hips, face open, eager to help. Obviously clueless as to who he was.

Nobody had stared at Ganondorf that way in hundreds of years.

He considered killing the straggler and taking his embarkation for himself. Faster, easier. But of all the many skills the gerudo king had perfected during his unnaturally long life, sailing had never even crossed his mind as something worth his attention. And the thought of trying to keep this poorly wielded rotting wood afloat in a storm, hands coarse with ropes he couldn’t make sense of above miles upon miles of this terrible salt water that wanted him back in the dark... A sharp pang of hatred seared down his throat. The Goddesses must be finding his predicament oh so hilarious.

The stranger, named Beedle, made what room he could for him on his bark; but said bark was tiny, and Ganondorf could only fit against the wall of the inner cabin, stuck between crates of food and heaps of arrows. A ceiling lamp swung above his head followed by a swarm of eager moths, threatening to set his forehead on fire. The hylian’s sunny disposition dimmed somewhat after Ganondorf’s pointed silence and lack of outward thanks for all this effort, but he still refused to let it die entirely and carried the conversation for them both.

“Hoping my humble abode can be a welcome shelter for the time being, my good sir.” Good sir. Ganondorf bit his tongue not to emote. “Please don’t be shy around my wares as well! If something catches your eye, I’m sure we can agree to somethin’ or another!” The hylian’s eye nicked at his jewelry, barely attempting to be subtle. “It’s rare to see folks as fancy as you in these parts. It’s the pirates, you see. I suppose it’s them who gave you trouble?”

Ganondorf evaded the too-intense gaze of the merchant. Of course, in this sparse flooded world, information would be as precious as rupees. He elected to be as greedy as he could in this particular department.

“I simply… got lost,” he muttered.

His voice was rough, ancient, looming. He didn’t sound like the way he remembered. The small hylian tensed and nodded, with a frown deep enough to suggest he was growing less worried about his guest and more about himself. Thunder crashed outside. A large wave rolled under the planks at their feet; the boat croaked, almost organically. Ganondorf shivered.

“Welp. Happens to the best of us I guess!” The owner scratched his bare stomach, his best efforts at joy dipping into nervousness. “Where are you going then? I can drop you off to any place that’s on my usual route!”

Ganondorf clenched his jaw. He had no good answer to this question. He didn’t know anything about this strange new world. Didn’t recognize anything. Where were they, right now? Above which landmark he could still perfectly recall in his mind, lively and luscious, sprawling under the indulgent sun of Hyrule?

“I… I don’t…”

He caught himself, this disgusting vulnerability in that shredded voice, before it could spill out fully. Anger smothered him instead; then something more painful, akin to the jagged cuts of weapons somehow lodged even deeper than flesh. He thought of gutting the pleasant man, right here and now. Take him apart limb from limb among all these goods and produce Ganondorf had never seen before. But the storm raged outside —and to be stuck there, in this claustrophobic cabin, waiting to be toppled over and drowned once again…

“Y-You know what?” Beedle proposed, hands joined, helpful in a way that neared pity. “I can take you to Windfall Island! It’s the biggest port around, and I’m sure you’ll find someone there who can help you out. You seem a little…” He swallowed. “A little... out of it, sir.”

His skin crawled. That idiot would strand him on an island full of hylians, chipper and knowledgeable and unbearably alive.

“No,” Ganondorf grunted. “Take me… Take me somewhere quiet, and near. Someplace with solid land.”

The hylian cocked his head.

“I’m not quite sure about that plan, sir. There’s a Fortress close-by, sir, I’m sure you’ve heard of it. The waters are full of pirates. It’s not safe here! They’d capture you in a heartbeat, and oh!” The poor little man deflated, rubbing his bare arms, as if to ward off his own imagination. “They’d have ways to make you spill where the rest of your fancy gold is hidden, sir!”

Ganondorf couldn’t help his snickering. His right hand burned quietly under the full length of his sleeves. “A fortress, you say?”

“Horrible place! Dreadful place! They’ve stolen from me before, the vultures!”

“Take me there.”

Beedle’s eyes and mouth drew the shape of three perfect circles.

“Sir!” He squealed, red with offense. “No amount of rupee in the world could convince me to go there! I’ll never risk my wares, my very life…”

“Where I come from, merchants know to take risks when it matters,” Ganondorf said. And that much was true. Gerudo merchants had saved his kingdom countless times over before he was old enough to wield a sword himself. Not all of them returned home alive.

“And why on earth would it matter to me?!” Beedle crossed his arms, outraged. “They’ll shot my poor boat on sight! So whatever you could offer me in exchange…”

“You’re assuming I will let you refuse.”

Silence, if not for the roar of the sea.

The hylian’s eyes were large and misty, his knees threatening to give. “Sir…” He wailed, crumbling on himself, even tinier than before. “I rescued you.”

“And I am not ungrateful,” Ganondorf smiled. “Yet.”

¤

The merchant sniffled and muttered under his breath the entire way, but it didn’t take much more than a few hours for Ganondorf to see the silhouette of a large structure overtaking the stormy horizon. Beedle tried not to cry as he slalomed through the coves and razor-sharp stones, knowing himself watched, both by his guest and the pirates outside surely well aware of their presence. Ganondorf considered telling him they would be safe from cannon fire no matter what, but decided to keep his magical prowess undisclosed for as long as he could. He simply didn’t know enough about the rules of this new world to fashion a reputation for himself yet. Dreadful outcasts with a penchant for knives and thievery, however? A consequence-less trying ground.

An anchor, in so many ways.

They weren’t prevented from boarding the pier, but were awaited right outside. The vicious wind swashed buckets of sea water over a collection of armed silhouettes, staring at the humble bark with open distrust and slight bafflement. Ganondorf eyed over each of them. About twenty, that he could see. All of them with pointy ears, safe for the two gorons in the back. Brown hair, blonde hair, white hair.

All of them men.

Ganondorf refused to give room to the childish hope within withering into something cold and empty, and advanced towards the line. Beedle made a whimpering sound behind him.

“That’s close enough I’d say.”

A man cut through the pirates and stepped forth. The bulky kind, bald-headed and scarred, with one golden tooth sharpened far past what most would think reasonable. He towered over his crew, but barely reached Ganondorf’s shoulder. He nodded towards the cowering merchant behind his back.

“Must have given that lad his weight in rupees to convince him to sail here. We have history, don’t we Beedle?”

The crew laughed, and the poor hylian was but half a breath from sobbing openly.

“I hear you’re the terror of the sea,” Ganondorf noted.

The man puffed his chest. “Aye we are. So what made you think it was a good idea to come check for yourself? Want to donate to the cause?” Every pirate openly eyed at the large jewels adorning his fine robes. Gerudo craftsmanship had always stirred outsiders’ imagination, even back when cultural context hadn’t been completely lost to the waves.

Ganondorf crossed his arms. “I suppose it depends on the cause.”

The pirate chief laughed, a bit too loud to be believable as effortless contempt. His stance was ever-slightly defensive. Ganondorf was being seized up, and correctly identified as a threat.

“Our cause?! Get richer than the lost kingdom through other people’s honest work! I didn’t think it would need clarification!” Another step closer, one that felt like bravado. The man held up an open palm that missed half a finger. “So how are you willing to contribute?”

Ganondorf didn’t bother moving. He stared deep into the washed-out green eyes of the pathetically wet hylian in front of him. Small threats. Threats of no ambition. This was all the Goddesses could handle, and not a single thing worse: mediocre hylians, content with their lackluster lot, fearlessly cruel in the pettiest of ways.

He shook his head, giving the surroundings a good look instead of paying the captain undeserved attention. Crows cackled above their head, and bigger birds seems to nest in the cliffs. Hard to navigate, tall and angry, strong against the storm, unpleasant to be around.

Suitable.

“I quite enjoy this island,” Ganondorf declared at last. “As for you, terror of the sea… You can all stay here and serve my cause, or you can take your leave right away.”

Some man in the back thought it was a joke and laughed; but the humor died down soon enough. Exclamations bubbled through the assembled crew like a fit of bad coughs, growing in intensity. Beedle hid his face in his hands, terrified, and muttered a prayer.

“What did you say?!” The captain belched out. “Are you out of your mind—who the hell do you think you are?!”

A younger version of himself would have used the opportunity to brag, just to feel the kick of his own resolve; a promise muttered back to himself. But Ganondorf was far past reassurance now.

“Or you can all watch each other die if you prefer,” Ganondorf added, with the familiar coldness that preceded his worst slaughters.

That was too much for the poor merchant. Abandoning all reason, the little hylian skedaddled back to his boat with a high pitch sound of distress. Smart move. The pirates were all focused on the actual danger, and Ganondorf would have disliked letting a survivor bear witness to the worst of what he could do. Now was not the time. And, after all, he had no reason to be ungrateful and needlessly destructive. Not everything had to end up in blood, he supposed. Violence was a lesson he’d have to unlearn soon if we was to re-adapt to this new, brutal reality.

But as of now…

“We’ll knock some sense back into you, old man!” the man spat out—old man? Ganondorf wasn’t sure he appreciated being perceived as frail and weary; those feelings were supposed to be private. But the captain didn’t seem to realize his overstep and unsheathed a crude saber to his face. “Everyone with me!”

They all attacked at once, swords drawn and eager.

Ganondorf grinned. Twin blades slotted into his waiting hands.

That simple joy, of all joys dead and gone, the Goddesses had yet to take from him.

¤

The slaughter was over before it started. The pirates were even worse off than he feared. None of them would have survived the wars he had waged centuries prior. In this barren world of salt and greedy water, plunderers were weak and arrogant, and lonely travelers trusted so easily. The deluge didn’t even select the worthiest to carry on this accursed future.

Leaning from the highest balcony he could find, Ganondorf stared at a much quieter sea. Dawn brushed over the crests of wave in pinks and golds and green. Seagulls, crows and even angrier birds screamed their delight in the fierce offshore wind. Far in the distance, he could distinguish the shape of Beedle’s bark, fast escaping the trail of blood left behind. Ganondorf was taken by a vague need to acknowledge what this man had done for him, this thankless mercy drenched in unfair retribution. Do something just, perhaps. Sort the stolen goods and restore what once belonged to him. Make his effort worth something... but already, so soon, the little dot tipped over the foam and disappeared from view entirely.

The waves covered its tracks, and Ganondorf was alone.

He closed his eyes, allowing the sun to trick him into unguarded longing. But that couldn’t last. He couldn’t afford rest. He couldn’t afford peace. This was how the Goddesses had lured everyone else into accepting this; the smallness of letting oneself drift; an existence happily unmoored. That wasteland. That living wound they all called home.

Ganondorf turned away from the horizon, the sun, the wind, runaway boats with small cargo and far greater fears. The Triforce of Power scorched his blood-splattered hand. Ganondorf focused on the pain until it devoured everything else; and then, only then, could he start to think with regained dignity about the arduous path to triumph.

[theostrophywife]

the prince of hell | part two.

we might just get away with it, the altar is my hips even if it's a false god, we'd still worship this love

author's note: i have chosen violence today and i won't apologize for it. anyways, enjoy this soft fluff.

song inspiration: false god by taylor swift.

The underworld was nothing like you expected it to be. 

It was a land of perpetual night, but it wasn’t the frightening unending darkness of nightmares, instead it was moonlight and constellations, twinkling stars and violet skies. Never in a million years would you have predicted hell to be dreamy. 

But it was. Everything about the place was an absolute dream. None more so than the winged male carrying you in his arms. 

The Prince of Hell smiled softly as he cut through the cumulus clouds, flying towards an enormous castle perched atop an obsidian mountain. The peaks glittered like dark diamonds, the gothic spires and turrets spearing through the endless night as you floated through the sea of stars. The moon shimmered overhead as Azriel landed on the open balcony. 

Though his feet hit the chequerboard floor, Azriel made no move to release you from his grip. He merely continued carrying you through his home, past the moonstone walls and marble pillars, through countless rooms full of lavish furniture and extravagant paintings, and underneath a crystal chandelier that projected starlight onto the polished onyx floors. 

You gaped in wonder as he slipped past mahogany doors and into a bedchamber with a four poster bed. The sheets felt like silk to the touch as he carefully set you down. Across the room, you stared at your bewildered expression through a gilded mirror, your hair wild and unbound, your wedding dress smeared with blood and ash. 

Azriel’s brows furrowed in concern as he wiped a streak of dried blood from your cheek. “Are you sure you’re alright, my heart?” His fingers skirted over your hairline, brushing a stray strand behind your ear with surprising gentleness. “You’re shaking.” 

You gave him a watery smile. “I’m fine. Just a little rattled, that’s all.”

“I won’t apologize for what I did to that mortal, but I am sorry if it frightened you. The way he spoke about you, the way he grabbed you—” he released a shaky breath as if the memory still stoked his anger. “I wanted to do more than just rip out his wretched heart.”

You grabbed his hand and squeezed in reassurance. “You saved me.” Honey eyes dawned on you like sunset, disbelief dancing in Azriel’s gaze as though no one has ever said such a thing to him. “You saved me and I owe you my life.” 

“You owe me nothing,” Azriel declared with determination. “You will never owe anyone anything ever again.”

Those words released another floodgate of tears. As the Prince of Hell cradled you in his arms, his soft voice a soothing lullaby in your ears, the realization that you were free—truly free slammed into you. You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, maybe minutes, maybe hours, but what you did know was that Azriel was a refuge in the storm.

As he had been in your dreams for far longer than you could remember. 

“I thought I’d dreamt you up,” you said, looking up at this stranger who really wasn’t a stranger at all. “How are you real?” 

There was something about the way those golden eyes softened that made your heart leap in your chest. Azriel brushed a tear away and took a deep breath. “Once upon a time, there was a raven with a broken wing. It searched high and wide for shelter, but because of its injuries, the raven couldn’t fly very far. One day it landed in the countryside, half-frozen and half-starved, where a girl found it buried amongst the snowbanks. The girl took pity on the raven and brought the bird home, offering it shelter and mending its broken wing. As she nursed the raven back to health, he did something very foolish. He fell in love with the girl. The raven knew it was a mistake. She was beautiful and gentle and kind and he was a creature of nightmares. Eventually, he healed and she set him free. That should have been the end of the story, but the raven was a selfish bastard. It kept coming back—watching over her, leaving her gifts, and visiting her dreams.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you listened, realization slowly washing over you as Azriel spoke. “Then one day, the raven heard the girl’s father praying to the old gods. Heaven ignored his pleas, but Hell listened. The raven listened because he had never forgotten the girl’s kindness. What the girl didn’t know was that the raven wasn’t a raven at all. He was the Prince of Hell. The day she found him, he had been attacked by his step brothers who sought his throne for themselves. They held him down and drove a spear through his wing, nearly severing it.” 

His right wing flared out and you saw a large scar running through the underside of the red and gold membrane. “Before they could kill him, the Prince of Hell shifted into his raven form and fate took him to the small village where the kind girl rescued him. The raven would have died if it weren’t for her. When she set him free, he knew it killed her to do so. But the girl understood what it was like to be in a cage and she didn’t want him to have the same fate as her, so she let him go. As the girl watched the raven fly away with a heavy heart, he promised that one day, he’d set her free too.”

The room was silent as Azriel’s fingers raked through your scalp. “So the raven bided his time. Bargained with the girl’s father. Slaughtered his greedy step brothers. Reclaimed his throne. Then finally, the raven fulfilled his promise. The girl thought that he had set her free, that he had saved her, but what she didn’t know was that she saved him first. Before he met her, everyone always said that the raven had no heart and they were right because his heart was tucked away in that small, snowy village.”

The Prince of Hell brushed his lips over your temple. “That’s what you are to me,” Azriel said softly. “My heart.”

“Why me?” you asked. The memories flashed through your mind. Finding him in that snowbank. Bandaging up his wing. Your father had scolded you for it. Called you soft hearted. Always bringing in the strays of this world. The girl who desperately clung onto magic and fairy tales to escape the harsh reality of her own life. “I’m just a girl who has a weakness for the wild things.”

“Being kind is not a weakness,” Azriel said firmly. “I used to think it was. My father taught me as much and so did his father before him. But they were wrong. It was the kindness of a stranger that brought me back to life. A girl who gave me everything when I had nothing to give in return. That is true strength.”

Tears fell from your eyes like raindrops. It felt good to be seen. To have the whole of you reflected so clearly in someone else’s eyes. “You’re my freedom. You’re my salvation,” you stroked his cheek almost reverently. “I think I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”

“As have I, my heart,” Azriel whispered softly, pressing his forehead against yours. “As have I.”

“You saved me,” you said once again.

“We saved each other.”

Your heart thundered in your chest as he traced the outline of your jaw, his thumb brushing against your lips. His touch was featherlight, but it set your entire body on fire. Azriel’s gaze marked you, burned you. It felt like he was embedding himself upon your soul.

“Azriel?” Your voice came out in a whisper, low and breathless. 

“Yes, my heart?” 

“Kiss me. Please.”

The Prince of Hell shuddered a breath. Then his hand slid into your hair, tilting you back. There was nothing but tenderness in his eyes as he closed the gap between you. Lips brushed against lips, tasting, testing—it was excruciating agony, it was sweet release. The kiss sparked a fire in you and you burned for Azriel, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers tangling through his silky locks like you were trying to get lost in the dark paradise that was him with no desire to ever escape. 

Azriel pulled you into his lap, his lips never leaving yours. The way your bodies moved in perfect synchrony, melding together, melting together seamlessly made you think that maybe you were created just for this purpose. He was intoxicating; there was nothing more divine, nothing more sacred than the feel of his mouth against yours. Kissing him was an act of worship. 

You had the vague sense that you’ve never felt true hunger until Azriel’s tongue slipped past your parted lips and filled you with lust and desire so strong it made you feel like a depraved hedonist. There was Azriel and only Azriel. 

Desire was a lit match catching fire on a field soaked with gasoline. The need for Azriel was endless, like staring into an empty abyss and realizing for the first time in your life that you were finally seeing what lay inside this whole time. You were hungry. 

Azriel groaned as you rolled your hips against him. His hands found your waist, gripping you like his life depended on it. The gold dancing in his irises flickered to black. His eyes fluttered close as he nuzzled his nose against yours, reeling himself back to reality. 

Then, in a voice full of care and restraint, Azriel said, “We don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready to do. It’s your choice, my heart.” The words cracked your heart open, letting sunlight into the shadowy crevices. “From this point forward, it will always be your choice.”

You cupped his cheek, marveling at all that he was. “My entire life, every decision has been made for me. Other people have always told me how to dress, how to speak, how to act. Tonight is the first time that I actually get to choose something for myself. I want my first choice to be you, Azriel.” 

The words seemed to unleash something within the Prince of Hell. Azriel surged forward and kissed you, his mouth full of passion and heat. You arched into him and he took the opportunity to graze his teeth against the column of your throat before flicking his tongue over the sensitive spot just below your ear. 

“I choose you, too,” he said softly. 

You smiled, tugging him down until you both tumbled against the mattress. Azriel pinned you underneath him, taking his time to stroke your curves, his featherlight touch awakening goosebumps along your arms. He peeled the dress off of you gently, kissing your collarbones, your breasts, your stomach, and your thighs. You helped him out of his clothes, peeling layer after layer until the two of you were bare to one another. 

You had no idea where to look first. Azriel was a work of art, a sculpture carved out of marble, every inch of him perfectly crafted by the gods themselves. The forbidden fruit seducing you to taste, to bite, to savor. He shuddered as you pressed your palm against his chest, feeling the beat of his heart as if it were your own. 

“You will be my undoing,” the Prince of Hell declared. “I would worship at your altar tonight. You are my own little piece of heaven.”

“I don’t want to be your heaven,” you said, voice stern and unwavering. “I want to be your hell, because their god is the only one who has ever answered my prayers.”

Azriel looked down at you as though you were a god yourself. A treasure that he would give his life to guard and cherish. With your legs wrapped around his trim waist, Azriel hovered above you. His gaze was contemplative, searching for any sign of hesitation. 

When he found none, Azriel kissed you gently while easing his way in. You were wet, soaking with arousal, and the length of him stretching your walls was a welcomed sting. He kept his eyes on you as his cock filled you deliciously. You moaned into his mouth and the sound seemed to completely unravel him. 

It was ruin and restoration, life and death, pain and pleasure combined in one single act. Azriel twined your fingers together, holding your arms above your head as he made love to you. His wings flared behind his back just as his shadows swirled above his head, encircling him like a crown of smoke. The Prince of Hell was a dark god. He was night and mist and shadow. The space between the stars. 

You would pray to him a thousand times over. 

“Gods,” you moaned, the word falling from your lips like a solemn prayer. “It feels too good. You are too good, Azriel.”

He kissed you deeply, fusing your very souls together. A white hot heat seized your body and suddenly you were careening towards the cliffs, falling hand in hand with Azriel. The Prince of Hell growled into your mouth, his forehead pressed against yours as you both surrendered to release. 

For a moment, nothing else in the realm existed besides the two of you. 

Azriel opened his eyes and it was like staring directly into the sun after centuries of darkness. With a soft smile, he pulled you into his arms and kissed your temple. Like pieces of a puzzle falling into place, your limbs locked and something within you just clicked. 

This was right. 

He was right.

You nestled against Azriel like you belonged there all along. “You never told me.”

“Told you what, my heart?”

“How the story of the girl and her raven ends.”

Azriel smiled, pulling you into his arms. “It doesn’t. They just find a new beginning instead.”

taglist: @viradeity @moony-thoughts @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @demirunner @swansworth @heart-defendor @momlo @mali22 @roselensage @searchingford@nessianxgwynriel@azriels-angels@brekkershadowsinger@morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @mattte-black @marina468 @lillithathecathecat @highladyofillyria

[fanaroff]

Above the Nasty Burger Ch. 1

Ao3 Link Here Next Ch. >>

“So… you don’t know your Obsession?” Ember looked understandably confused. Maybe a little weirded out. Danny laughed. It was a small, self deprecating laugh, but a laugh none-the-less. 

“What we thought was it turned out to just be a hero-complex and the offshoot of my wanting to protect my family.” He glanced at where Ember sat beside him on the roof of the Nasty Burger. “That and you all kind of invaded my Haunt.”  

Ember gaped at him. “That’s why you were so aggressive?!”

“Hey! I wasn’t aggressive! I just had family to protect and new instincts.” Danny was only mock offended. 

“Baby Pop, you were aggressive. For a new ghost, you were aggressive.” 

“Well, that’s the other thing. I’m not a full ghost. Not completely. I didn’t immediately seek out my Obsession. I didn’t try to create a Lair in the Zone. I didn’t seek out ectoplasm the way you all did when you changed.” He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. 

“I knew there was something weird with me from the beginning, kind of. But considering my experiences, I didn’t know what to classify as ‘normal.’ When Sam, Tucker, and I first learned about Obsessions, we thought that maybe I was a protective spirit or something that just kind of tied itself to Amity Park.” 

“You are a protective spirit. But…?” 

Danny uncurled and leaned back on his hands, eyes trailing up to the sky, seeking out the constellations he knows are there but are covered by the light pollution from the city. 

“But there were times where things happened that totally should have set me off if that was my Obsession.” He looked at Ember. “That time that you controlled me to ‘fall in love with Sam’ and I got my heart broken? She was in danger the whole time. Especially when she was about to fall off of the building and me in that hypnosis state just made it worse. If my Obsession was protection, that shouldn’t have worked. ” 

Ember made a drawn out ‘o’ with her mouth. “Oooooh…. That… that makes much more sense Baby Pop. We all thought something similar was your Obsession too, so I was actually kind of freaking out inside when it did work. I had actually been planning to do what I did to you to Tucker as a distraction but he wasn’t there.” 

Danny snorted into his hand. “Oh Ancients! I’m imagining Tucker just drooling after Sam and her planting a boot in his face!”

“From what I’ve seen, she’d probably have done worse.” Ember grinned.

“Very true actually! She probably would have broken his PDA and then booted him in the face!”

The two ghosts shared a laugh before lapsing into a not-quite comfortable silence. 

“I do want to say sorry, again.” Ember started hesitantly a few beats in. “We just kept pushing at you out of curiosity when we found out you were out here. It wasn’t obvious that you were a halfa at first. Most new ghosts still look pretty human when they form and then slowly start to come into themselves . We were very confused when you never did. Then we starting getting into what I at least know now was your Haunt and getting into your territory and things just started to escalate.” 

Danny scratched the back of his head sheepishly and waved out to a passing child on the sidewalk who was pointing him out to their parent. 

“Yeaaaaah, I know now that not all of you were intending harm. I dunno, I guess I just kind of reacted? So, sorry for that too on my end.” 

“Nah, don’t be sorry for protecting your Haunt. It’s something that you were supposed to do. It just wasn’t something we expected. Then we assumed your Obsession kept you tied to the human world. Then we found out that you were a halfa. Then it made things more interesting. And now we come to find out that was all just naturally you?” Ember let out a loud and short laugh.  

“Gosh, Baby Pop! We were amazed! And still are! To think you’ve done all that you have before you even found your Obsession! And to top it off, you’re in line for the throne and you still haven’t even come into your full power!” 

Danny groaned at this and ran his hands through his bangs. “Please don’t remind me! Clockwork and Frostbite have been teaching me everything that I have been missing this whole time and on top of learning basic knowledge about the Zone that everyone instinctually already seems to know, I have to learn to do something that I never wanted to do in the first place!” He threw his hands into the air and let himself fall backwards to lay on the roof. 

Ember was silent beside him as stared at the sky. 

“I’m still so confused about a lot, Ember. I don’t even really know exactly what I’m doing. I have to be King only because I somehow won a battle by the skin of my teeth. One that I really, really should have fully died in. And to top it off…” 

“-And to top it off, you need to be fully dead to claim the throne.” 

“Even though I don’t want to.”

“Even though you don’t want to.” Ember confirmed. “That’s gotta be scary, man.” 

“Terrifying.”

“I bet.”

“I mean… I’ve already died once-“

“Half-died really, but it counts.”

“-and I have to die again ! Then the big question is, how and when? Because the portal definitely tried its best but apparently not hard enough. Twice, now that I think about it.” 

Ember raised an eyebrow as she leaned over to look down at him. “Twice?” 

“I’ll tell you that story at another time, but it has to do with Desiree.”

“Ah. Carry on with your moping then.” 

“I’m not moping!”

“Certainly looks like it.” 

Danny huffed out a breath that blew his bangs out of his face. “Whatever. Anyways, I’m scared about what will happen when I’m dead dead and more than just dead inside. There’s also a lot of other things I’m scared about that has to do with it too, but I think actually having to find my Obsession is another part of it.” He sat up to look Ember in the eye. 

“Clockwork said that whatever my Obsession turns out to be, the Zone will shape itself to it whenever I finally take the throne.” 

Ember was silent a moment, processing this. 

“Welll…” she started slowly. “I don’t think that is something you will need to worry about. If it was something dangerous, then Clockwork would have already seen to you never taking the throne or getting into a situation where you somehow won the throne, right?” 

Danny shuddered as this sparked the memory of Dan. He was surely glad that guy was never the Ghost King. He shuddered again. That would have turned out very badly for everyone. 

“You’re a good person, Danny. All of us can see that. I doubt your Obsession would be anything but good for the Zone.” 

“It’s more than that, I think. I don’t know exactly how to put it into words.” He sighed and took a breath. “Frostbite has a theory that Clockwork neither confirms nor denies. And it’s the denying part that gets me because if it wasn’t true, he would have said outright.” Danny opened his mouth and stopped, unsure how to proceed. 

“It still boggles me that you’ve somehow ended up with two of the most powerful ghosts as your mentors.” Ember remarked. Danny shot her a wry smile before frowning again. 

“Frostbite thinks that the Zone made me.” 

“What!? What does that mean?” 

“It means that he thinks that when the portal in my parents’ basement opened up with me in it, the Zone kind of… chose me to be its new core. That it gave me my powers and didn’t let me fully die for this reason. Because it made me compatible with the Zone in a way that many other Kings weren’t.” 

Ember let out a loud groan. “And Clockwork didn’t deny this?”

“Nope.” Danny popped the ‘p.’ 

“Uuuuuugh, what is your life, Baby Pop?” 

“My half-life.” Danny corrected as he sat back up. He received a painful punch in the shoulder for his pun. 

“Okay, so, yeah. I see now why you needed to get that all of your chest. How long have you known?” 

He shrugged. “About four months now.” That earned him another punch in the shoulder. “I know I know! I shouldn’t have hidden it as long as I did! But I didn’t know what else to do!! And then we were chatting and I just sort of spilled it all out to you and now here we are!” 

“I still don’t know why you told me over your human friends.” 

A shrug was Ember’s only answer this time. 

Ember sighed. “We’ll, I guess the next step would be for you to actually figure out your Obsession and then talk to Clockwork about what needs to be done or how things will go. But you’ve got to remember that all of us are with you every step of the way now. I care, Baby Pop. And I know that dying is a terrifying feeling. I can’t imagine going through it twice.” 

“I just feel like a dead guy walking.” 

“Danny, you are a dead guy walking.” 

“Haha, very funny.” 

“Thanks, I thought it was.” 

“Seriously, though. I don’t really know how to process all of this still. It’s just so much and there’s still going to be more .” 

Ember gave him a pat on the back. “Don’t think too many steps ahead. Think with the information you know now and stick to it until you have more. You can’t plan the next step if you don’t know what it is. You’re just gonna drive yourself insane that way. “

“Who’s to say I already haven’t?” 

“Valid. You are actually pretty insane.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

“Good.” 

There were a few beats of silence before Ember stood up and started to float several feet in the air. “Welp, I’ve got some gossip to go spread around the Zone about your previous aggression” 

Danny didn’t protest at this but he did give her a surly frown. 

“I know it’s a sensitive topic and all, but if you need help figuring out how to find your Obsession, I don’t mind hanging around sometime to help out. Your human friends may not be able to understand it completely, but I will. Besides, if you do find it, you’ll probably need another ghost to snap you out of Obsession Trance. It’s always wild the first time.” 

Danny smiled, thankful for the offer. “Thanks, Ember. I’ll be sure to find you when I’m ready then.” 

It only took a flick of his hand and a bit of focusing, but with that simple movement he used his power to create a portal just big enough for Ember to pop through. She waved a thanks and vanished into the swirling green. 

After he let it close, Danny looked down at his own hands with a sigh. While Ember may have understood the ghost side of things, she didn’t seem to get why he hadn’t told his friends and family. How was he supposed to tell them that some day soon he would be gone and to a place they would no longer be able to reach him until they themselves died? 

The one thing he didn’t tell Ember was the one thing that worried him the most. Because when he takes the throne, all ghosts would be called back to the Zone, and then all holes and portals in the Infinite Realms would close and there would be no way back. Next Ch. >>

>>I finally decided to start moving some of my works onto here and interacting in some of the fandoms I most enjoy. It's been a little while. I'll be posting chapters, blurbos, fanart, and designs from my own fics, so keep an eye out for those if you're interested. I love discussing these things, so feel free to reach out at any time! I have a lot of Thoughts on the Danny Phantom lore and an absolute love of the Ghost King!Danny trope. I do want to preface, Ember and Danny are not going to be a couple. This is a purely platonic focus and giving Danny an emotional support that he needs outside of the expectations of Sam, Tucker, and Jazz. Someone inhuman needs someone inhuman.

[scarlet-cookie]

Yoohankim lyrics that scratches my brain just right

Home by Cavetown

Get a load of this train wreck His hair's a mess and he doesn't know who he is yet But little do we know, the stars Welcome him with open arms Oh

Time is Slowly Tracing his face But strangely he feels at home in this place

-Kim Dokja

Him during the later part of the story works so well with these words. His deteriorating sense of self, the train wreck ifykyk, being loved by others, being loved by stars (literally), and finding his found family dynamic with others becoming a home for him.

Never Love an Anchor by Crane Wives

I am selfish, I am broken, I am cruel I am all the things they might have said to you Do you ever think of me and my two hands? And wonder why they never soothed your fevers? And wonder why they never tied your shoes? And wonder why they never held you gently? And wonder why they never had the chance to lose you?

-Han Sooyoung/1863rd in particular

Writing a story for that one reader without ever being able to hold him, to tell him she cares for him, a love that’s built on sacrifice and could never love him personally like a parent, and when they meet for the first time face to face, she is a plagiarist writer whose personality don’t work quite well with him, unknowing that she had long carried his life through words alone. And she’d keep writing the story for him, forever, out of selfishness, that’s also love, care and yearning.

Curses by Crane Wives

There's still cobwebs in the corners And the backyard's full of bones Won't you stay with me, my darling When this house don't feel like home? When this house don't feel like home

Oh, ashes, ashes, dust to dust The devil's after both of us Ooh, lay my curses out to rest Make a mercy out of me

-Yoo Joonghyuk

Becoming slowly disconnected from the present time due to regression, death permeating his path and everywhere he could see, even in the 1864th round, having to watch Dokja die over and over again, and uselessly trying to keep him from sacrificing himself. Being life and death companions with this dumbass that inevitably lands him in graver danger than he should be facing, and eventually reaching the conclusion with him, along with finding the truth about his constellation sponsor, and his whole existence that kept that dumbass— a child crying out for help— alive for such a long time.

[the-penguinspy]

Also, not me not realizing you rbed a prompt post until now :( ONLY if you want to bc I'm like ten years late or smth!

27: I can't think when you keep looking at me like that.” for whoever strikes ur fancy :)

not me, replying, 10 years late as well...thank u for the prompt smo, 'twas truly lovely to write for :)

--

The living room still smells like the remnants of their breakfast. American-style this morning – maple sausages and fried eggs, waffles and coffee; something Ava had been craving, something Beatrice had given in to. 

She’s sated and full, the meal sitting heavy in her belly, and she’d love nothing more than to indulge herself in some mid-morning cuddles with Beatrice, maybe even make out a little bit. Instead, she’s sitting on Beatrice’s lap on the couch, knees bracketing hips. Not a bad place to be in, not at all! But her hands are occupied with a stack of multi-coloured flashcards and she’s studying.

“Bea, don’t we have fake licenses expressly for this purpose? Don’t these rules go out the window when it’s my turn to drive, anyway?”

“You don’t have to take the test, but most of the time we won’t be having dramatic car escapades. You’ll have to learn the rules of the road.”

“I think a little rule breaking is healthy sometimes. Necessary, even.”

Beatrice hums. “You can’t break the rules if you don’t know what they are.”

Ava groans and throws her head back dramatically, Beatrice’s hands coming up to hold her by the waist to prevent her from falling backwards. “I think I'll know when the rules are broken when I get five honks in a row,” she says, addressing the ceiling. “Bonus points for prolonged honks that sound like harmony.”

“Please don’t cause unnecessary grievances for your fellow drivers,” Beatrice says. Ava straightens up at that. Narrows her eyes at Beatrice. She opens her mouth and is about to dispute the accusation when the hands at her waist squeeze hard, once, and the air in her lungs leave her in a stint of breathless laughter. 

Beatrice leans in close. “What was that you were going to say?” she asks, fingers digging into Ava’s waist, making her laughter burst out unchecked.

“I said–” Another warning squeeze, and Ava’s cut off as she wheezes. “Okay, okay! I won’t– Bea, stop– I won’t cause unnecessary grievances for my fellow drivers.”

“Thank you, darling.” Beatrice reaches out to tuck a stray hair behind Ava’s ear, smiling when Ava presses a kiss to her palm. She goes back to her stack of flashcards – written by her own hand, thank you very much – reading each question out loud and pairing it with an answer before flipping to the back to check. Beatrice’s hands rest on her thighs, and she hums encouragingly. 

Ava scans the newest question. “What should you do – uh oh, this doesn’t sound good – in the event of a fire in a tunnel?” The stack has lessened by half. Cards are scattered beside her on the couch, a few of them making a home between the cushions. 

She narrows her eyes and tries to pry the answer from her mind. Step one: don’t get close to the fire, obviously, otherwise the car would explode. Step two: stop the car. Step three: find and use the SOS phone, or get out using the emergency exit. Wait, should she use the SOS phone before leaving for the exit? Maybe someone else had already reported the fire, but then again, what if nobody hadn’t? 

She mouths the question to herself silently, fingers itching to turn the card over to get the answer. She squints at the question and traces the words, following the swoops and curves of the lettering, but it’s quite difficult to focus when there’s a more enticing view in her periphery. 

Try as she might, but her gaze keeps getting drawn back to Beatrice’s face. In her defence, it’s a very pretty face – Beatrice’s eyes are a rich, dark brown, focus intense on her, and the way the morning light shines on her face makes her freckles stand out; not stars, but still constellations in their own right. 

It all falls away, is the thing – the stack of cards is held in front of her and she can see the hard-practiced cursive of her penmanship that graces the paper, but it all melts away in the face of Beatrice’s attention on her. It’s thrilling. Addictive. The answer to the question eludes her, slips out of her grasp, driving theory all but forgotten.

“Ava?”

A huff and a pout, and Ava’s crossing her arms, hand gripped tight onto the cards to keep them from spilling everywhere. “Bea, I can't think when you keep looking at me like that.”

The blush that blooms on Beatrice’s cheeks is so pretty, even now. Ava feels her teeth ache with it. “My sincerest apologies. Let me remedy that immediately,” Beatrice says, the corners of her mouth twitching. She furrows her brows and frowns in mock-seriousness, and shuts her eyes. 

Ava privately laments her loss but this, at least, is more conducive to her focus.

She’s about to read the flashcard again to remember what the question was exactly, when she feels calloused fingers gently slide up her thighs. Beatrice’s hands reach the bottom of her cotton shorts, fingers barely dipping underneath the hems, before they rest there. She’s used to the frequency of Beatrice’s tactility now, but her chest still warms whenever Beatrice initiates the contact. 

It would have been fine if those hands had stayed, but no – they make their way down her thighs slowly, fingertips dragging, before moving upwards once again with a more pronounced pressure. 

Ava’s breath hitches. The smirk that graces Beatrice’s face is indicative that she caught it, her smile growing wider as Ava’s hands migrate to rest on her shoulders. Ava pitches her hips forward to lean into the contact, and she lets out a whine as Beatrice retracts her hands ever so slightly. “You’re such a tease. Aren’t you supposed to be helping me study?”

“I recall that you’re the one who suggested this method of studying,” Beatrice points out. Her tone wobbles slightly, laughter barely held in check, and Ava shoots her a half-hearted glare – not that Beatrice can see it. “Call it a sneak peek,” Beatrice says, “twenty more questions, then we’ll take a short break.”

“Ten.” “Fifteen.”

Ava beams. “Deal. Although, I think I need a little something to help jumpstart the studying process again. You know, to remind me of why I’m doing this in the first place.”

An eye cracks open at that, and Ava flutters her eyelashes for good measure. The coaxing is unneeded, though – Beatrice lets out a quick huff of laughter as she leans in, and Ava meets her in the middle. 

The kiss is slow and sweet; a delicious sample of what’s to come. But Ava’s never been particularly good at waiting – she’s harboured an itching sense of impatience ever since the Halo had been embedded onto her back, the feeling only exacerbated by the blue-shifted timeline of the Holy War. Thus, the desire to take life by the reins, to devour its offerings, had become a habit formed quickly by will and necessity. Every facet of life she’d missed out on – she’d wanted it all, had always been hungry for it. 

But – the war is over now. The life she’s building together with Beatrice is never going to be snatched away by divine hand, by demons or monsters or duty or sacrifice, not anymore. Ava’s still oh-so-hungry for it, and she can afford to linger now, but still, in moments like these? Where it’s just the two of them, unhurried, where love permeates every breath, every look, every gesture? It’s hers, it’s Beatrice’s, it’s theirs for all time, but somehow it’s moments like these where Ava can’t help but feel the most greedy; can’t help but give in to the urge to take, to hold between the canines of her teeth. 

She tilts her head to deepen the kiss, fingers twitching against Beatrice’s shoulders. The hands on her thighs tighten their grip in approval, and the feeling sparks a hot thrill up her spine that disperses rapidly through her veins. 

But all too soon, Beatrice pulls back. She doesn’t move far though; her lips ghost over Ava’s chin, her jaw. Ava holds herself still, waits until Beatrice’s mouth brushes against hers in one last kiss. Only then does Beatrice lean back. And only then, in the gift of this space, does Ava let her composure crumble, body and spirit rejuvenating with a harsh and shaky inhale. 

“Can I open my eyes now, or will that be too distracting for you?” Beatrice’s voice is low and sweet with the tease, the cadence of her breathing unfairly even; this close, her breaths fall damp over Ava’s lips and taunt her with their proximity, and Ava has to fight to loosen her muscles, to not give in to the chase.

Tempting as always, but – Ava stays strong. She places a small kiss on the tip of Beatrice’s nose, revels in the warmth of her smile and how her eyes crinkle at the corners, before settling in place and returning to her flashcards once more. “Keep them closed, please, or I’ll never learn how to drive normally.”

[loggiepj]

FORBIDDEN

Part 6 | Part 7

Part 8

Winter finally came. Temperature dropped down degrees below zero. The lake solidified in two days; the eerie sound under the waters filled the silent hours of the night as it turned into ice.

Most of the population anywhere in the world would stay indoors at a time like this. But the Avengers' camp wasn't like any other normal village.

The pavilion and other facilities of the camp remained tolerable, even warmer, enchanted by numerous spells to keep the cold away. Most of the campers carried on with their daily tasks as if it was any normal day, as if it wasn't just snowing an hour ago.

Winter would mean less attacks from Deviants. It was as if the two divisions had agreed on a temporary truce, a festival, an occasion even, to celebrate the entire season without touching any weapon, without unnecessarily shedding more blood.

The snow was already ankle deep, yet it didn't stop the children from starting snowball fights against each other. The sun had now begun to set; the night sky more visible like a mirror magnifying a painting of an entire universe. The stars even looked like salt accidentally sprinkled on a dark veil.

The older ones stayed comfortable in their seats, watching the young have the time of their lives while drinking hot cocoa served by Bruce.

"This doesn't even taste that good," Vision said, catching Y/n's attention. She looked at where said witch was sitting, irritatingly close to the beautiful witch who had occupied most of her thoughts.

Y/n's grip around her mug tightened as she witnessed the scene before her, immediately looking down once Vision seemed to chase Wanda's lips with his own, not seeing how Wanda aggressively shoved him away.

Y/n was too stupid to think that whatever was going on between her and Wanda would end up to be something more.

Who wouldn't? Ever since that night the two had shared under the stars, they became fast friends. Y/n entertained the witch with myths, fables and even folklores about the universe every night and Wanda would savor every second of it. The barrier between them was completely broken. Wanda even built Y/n an archway without a door to give the human a grand welcome.

Y/n had taught Wanda some of the constellations she knew and how to find them. Wanda was a good listener. She had never been attentive to any of her classes when she was a kid. But with Y/n as the teacher, it would be impossible to stray her focus away from the human.

"What's your favorite?" Wanda asked in a whisper, face so close to Y/n as they laid on the cool grass. It was still nearing Winter that time, and the perfect weather made the stars more visible like a clear painting in full display.

Wanda had performed a spell around them to keep them both warm. Y/n had never been more grateful, even though she didn’t need warming up. The lack of distance between the two of them was already heating up Y/n's entire body, heart skipping a beat whenever their gazes met. And their gazes would always meet.

"Orion," Y/n answered. She gently pulled and held the witch's hand as she drew the constellations up above. These were the times Wanda love the most. The human's touch ignited a spark within her that no amount of magic could ever explain. "Those three bright stars in the middle are its belt." Y/n held Wanda's fingers, tracing the constellation in the air. "Orion is known as the Hunter, with the way the stars are perfectly aligned like someone ready to attack with a bow and arrow."

Their heads pressed together so their eyes would be looking at the same thing. Wanda's scent infiltrated Y/n's nostrils and she couldn't get enough. Y/n could breathe her in forever.

"Like you," Wanda muttered. A small smile crept unto Y/n's face, blushing.

"I doubt that. I'm not much good of an Avenger compared to anyone here. And my archery skills would be far in comparison to Orion," Y/n replied, putting both of their hands down on the ground where they laid.

Wanda smiled, knowing the human was being modest. "I find that hard to believe. You know, campers here look up to you."

Y/n swallowed a lump in her throat before she gave a nervous laugh.

Before the normie could respond, Wanda went on. "How did Orion end up in the sky?"

"There are stories in Greek mythology, where Orion the Hunter was killed by Artemis, a goddess, daughter of Zeus. Zeus, being the king of all gods, immortalized Orion by putting him in the sky and maybe to honor him. . . ."

Y/n then began to tell a story about the goddess Artemis and other gods she could remember. All the time, Wanda listened. Her eyes focused at the way the color of Y/n's eyes change when her gaze travelled between the witch and the sky.

Wanda suddenly found herself praying the human wouldn't let her hand go, skins molding as one as if Y/n was a part of her. And Y/n didn't let go the entire night they spent together.

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into a month.

Both of them, unconscious of what the other was concerned, always looked forward to the end of the day, where they could spend time together talking about the moon and the stars and everything else. Even Pietro grew wary of this sudden change of behavior, wondering what his sister was up to.

And when Y/n thought about seeing Wanda during the day, she'd always stopped on her tracks because of the other man's presence. Vision.

Y/n needed reminding that Wanda wasn't a free soul. She was promised to be married to that awful man Y/n had only encountered seldom times.

Vision never apologized for his behavior. Y/n thought he should had been grateful at least for getting sanctuary when he needed it the most. What Y/n couldn't understand though was what Wanda had ever seen in that man.

Y/n had considered the possibility that Wanda could like a woman like her. But if that possibility didn't exist, she was sure there were other far better men than Vision out there in the world, better and worthy for someone like Wanda.

Most times, Y/n would understand. She'd tell herself that maybe underneath all those arrogance Vision was showing off, was a kindhearted sensible person only Wanda knew.

But one night, Y/n had enough. That night was the time Vision made fun of Bruce's hot cocoa, making the anger in the human's body boil, which brought her back to the present.

"This doesn't even taste that good," Vision said.

The scene made Y/n retire early for the night, not even waiting for supper.

The human was oblivious to Wanda waiting for almost an hour in their spot after dinner, wondering if Y/n forgot about their nightly rituals, if Y/n forgot about how they were going to talk more about Aurora Borealis.

The Aurora Borealis was the most beautiful thing Wanda had ever witnessed in her entire life. It only appeared during Winter. Green strings danced into the night sky, giving light and wonderful aura to everyone looking.

Wanda kept thinking about that night Y/n told her the beauty of it wouldn't compare to the green wonders found in the witch's eyes, making her blush the entire night even as they parted their separate ways.

When Wanda found out some time later, that Y/n had already gone to bed without even telling her, the witch cursed to the silent night and to the ugly sky above. Damn her heart for trusting humans!

 

BACK WERE the days the two had begun ignoring each other. It was only until they were sent to a mission together with Yelena and others, which was to meet with Steve, the leader of a neighboring camp bordering along the town of Wakanda where the latest attacks had happened, when Y/n and Wanda finally spoke a word to each other.

They met at one of the distinct taverns across town, one where Deviants seldom visited. It was a safe place for both normies and witches alike. But witches preferred to hide or pretend, just to avoid any casualties. The place was known to serve the best ale in town. The Avengers conducted some of their meetings in the place, known for its atmosphere of not minding every drinker's own business.

Steve also talked about the recent developments of the weapon they were making. Yelena took note of the chemicals to use. They even exchanged supplies under the table, slipping inside the satchel Yelena had beside her foot.

When the conversations turned to somewhat light, what with the amount of alcohol involved, they began talking about the female witches Steve and his team had rescued and how they were a master of seduction and love spells on certain nights. Yelena laughed at this, asking whether she could visit some time.

Wanda, on the other hand, was fuming, when Steve suggested to bring Y/n along with her too, for Y/n might find the women exhilarating and fun to be around with.

Y/n only shook her head, laughing, before turning to look at Wanda, who had not even touched her pint of ale.

"Do you want to drink something else?" Y/n asked, ignoring the ongoing conversations beside her.

"I'm fine. I don't drink intoxicating liquors," Wanda complained. "Need I also remind you that we shouldn't be even drinking right now."

"Wanda, relax. You deserve to have a little bit of fun. And their ale is the best, aged perfectly well," Y/n retorted. "A bit malty and strong but sweeter than lager—"

"I said I'm fine."

"Oooh, lovers' quarrel?" Yelena asked, hearing their heated exchanges. Y/n and Wanda only glared back at her.

"Did you know that ale is more flavorful than lager?" Y/n went on to convince the witch to start drinking. "They tend to be fruitier and aromatic, whereas lager is just plain and dry."

But the information only sent Wanda into spiral.

"Why can't you stop being a know-it-all?"

Yelena erupted in laughter, while Y/n scoffed. But they abruptly stopped talking when the conversation in front of them became louder.

"It's completely barbaric," the bartender, an old bald man with a protruding belly, said in a low yet noticeable voice. He placed the half-empty pint glass of ale hard on the table. "They capture and burn these innocent witches as if they're nothing. I know they're scum in the earth. But burning them until they turn to ashes is a bit beyond the works of the devil, don't you think?"

The other customers he was talking to in the tavern agreed in murmurs. Y/n turned to look at Wanda beside her, who was trembling in rage.

Wanda couldn't bear to listen anymore to the outrageous cruelty being done by Deviants to her own kind. Burning witches? What did they ever do to them? Why couldn't they accept witches as equals?

The witch's heart thudded so loud in her chest, heated blood surging through her veins as her mind almost lost it. No. She can't get out of control. No.

Her sight began to appear blurry; noises surrounding her echoed inside her head like low pitched maniacal sounds.

And then she could hear the helpless cries and agonies of those hunted, of her own kind, mercilessly tortured by heartless humans.

Help! They cried, children, women and wounded men. Wanda felt she'd explode any moment now as the screams grew louder.

And then it was gone all of a sudden. As if someone blew the flame of a lit candle. Wanda could see clearly again, the voices gone, replaced by the noise inside the tavern.

Wanda wondered what happened, as if someone miraculously performed a magic to calm down the wild beast in her. Then her eyes travelled to her lap, where a hand was enclosed hers. Y/n's hand.

Y/n gave her another squeeze before linking their fingers together. When she looked at Y/n, the human's eyes were filled with concern and sincerity that warmed the witch's heart. Relief flooded into Wanda, hoping it would be enough to keep her uncontrollable power at bay.

Wanda survived the entire night, listening to other updates that she couldn't bear to listen, trying to remember that they're good humans too. Not just the evil Deviants.

It was a hard task.

 

WHEN THEY got back to their camp, Y/n broke the silence. "Are you okay?"

Yelena had already left the two to give some of the supplies she received from Steve to Pepper.

Wanda shrugged her shoulders. "Why wouldn't I be? Witches around the world are being slaughtered every second."

"I'm sorry," Y/n said. She didn't know what to say to make the witch feel better.

"Why can't you save everybody?"

"Wanda—"

"Never mind," Wanda scoffed, walking past the human.

"Look, we're doing the best we can—"

The witch stopped as she turned back to face Y/n. "Well, it's not good enough! We shouldn't be even sleeping peacefully right now if witches out there won't witness another day in their lives."

Wanda broke into a sob. She was trying too hard to stay silent so as not to wake the sleeping campers, but she found it difficult to breathe without making a noise.

Y/n slowly approached her, wrapping her arms around the shivering body. The witch calmed down, letting herself be hugged as she buried her face into her chest.

"We're going to save them, Wanda," Y/n promised. "All of them. Day by day. I swear to you."

Eventually, Wanda's arms slithered around Y/n's body, underneath the coat the latter was wearing, feeling the human's heat as the source of life she needed to breath. The hug tightened. Wanda could hear Y/n's heartbeat, the sound calming the storm brewing inside of her.

"It will be okay," Y/n said. And Wanda believed her.

Taglist:

@bibliophilicbi @swiftie1-0-1 @whitewidowsbite @aliherreraaa @smromanoff @wandanats-goodgirl @supaheroine @eliii1sblog @bananasplits-world

Author's note:

Follow me on my social media accounts. Thank you. ❤ Facebook : loggiepj | https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100089779552892&mibextid=ZbWKwL Instagram : loggiepj | https://instagram.com/loggiepj?igshid=NDk5N2NlZjQ= Twitter : loggiepj | https://twitter.com/loggiepj?t=EiFoKQyY1L-HCAMkBV2qCg&s=09

[lesuccube]

➚ 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 : ᴊᴀᴋᴇ ʟᴏᴄᴋʟᴇʏ — ꜱᴀɴᴄᴛᴜᴀʀʏ

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — three shots fired : two to the body , one through the heart .

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 — angst bug , mild dark trojan [ read at your own risk ! ]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 — not beta'd , constructive criticism is welcomed . reblogs and comments are appreciated .

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 — 4.1k

my demons are begging me to open up my mouth

i need them, mechanically make the words come out

they fight me, vigorous and angry, watch them pounce

ignite me, licking up the flames they bring about

jake lockley was a simple man. or at least that's what he likes to think. he was created by marc's subconscious to protect him from distress and physical harm. that was his reason for existence. nothing more, nothing less.

but the reality was that he was a broken man, much like his alters steven and marc. he was born from abuse, like steven, and his sole purpose was to shield that little boy from the horrors of his mother's pain. he shares a body with two others, needing to hide in the shadows because they absolutely cannot know about his existence nor the blood in his hands when marc's have been stained red enough that his conscience can't wash it all away.

he did not need to place the burdens he carries to his brothers, he was their protector and if staying in the dark and letting them be oblivious to his presence was the only way to protect them, then so be it.

jake was the one who took the hits for them, used his fist on those that dared try and harm the body, pounding the offender's face over and over until their face was black and blue and unrecognizable. even if it meant the boys would wake up to split skin on his knuckles. jake lockley is the system's protector, nothing is going to change that.

i sold my soul to a three-piece

and he told me i was holy

he's got me down on both knees

but it's the devil that's tryna

when marc became moon knight, jake briefly took over the body and had confronted the 7 foot tall skeletal bird known as khonshu, the egyptian god of the moon and the night sky. he sees all and knows all despite being unknown by the other two.

at first he demands khonshu to release marc from their agreement knowing it will lead to more danger and marc, the original, cannot be harmed. he tried hard to fight for marc's freedom much to the god's entertainment before striking another deal with jake.

on the day marc gains his freedom from being khonshu's avatar, he shall take his place instead. why look for another avatar when there's a completely different person residing in marc's body that marc (and steven) is unaware of?

but jake? jake had other plans. he told khonshu he'll be his avatar then and there, to let him take on the bloodier and brutal missions to spare marc any more bodies in his hands. he'll take them for him instead. this, of course, amuses khonshu who promptly agreed. their body was never going to be free from his clutches and the egyptian deity was going to take full advantage of the man's brokenness to do his bidding.

hold me down, hold me down

sneaking out the back door, make no sound

knock me out, knock me out

saying that i want more, this is what i live for

the job was easy for jake. he's used to a life of violence, letting his fists do the talking to get the answers he needed. he fought until his body held a constellation of bruises that don't easily fade away because he doesn't want to wear the ceremonial suit like marc.

instead he prefers his usual clothes consisting of his signature flat cap, a jacket, a white dress shirt underneath with a black tie done neatly, pressed trousers and black belt and some nice leather shoes.

what he did accept from khonshu was a pair of leather gloves, the knuckles of them designed with a faded crescent moon, to symbolize that he was doing the egyptian god's dirty (well, dirtier) work.

jake doesn't front often, only coming out when its necessary or when his brothers are sound asleep. some days he'd wake up in steven's warm flat, other times it's in that godawful tiny storage room marc uses. either way, he'd get up in the dead of the night, taking control of the body in what little time he has before letting it rest, relinquishing control to the other two once more when the sun begins to peek over the horizon.

hold me down, hold me down

throw me in the deep end, watch me drown

knock me out, knock me out

saying that i want more, this is what i live for

most missions that jake partakes in are always the same. it's either a weasley person trying their hardest to evade getting caught by this mysterious person that's dwindling the numbers of their group or a particularly difficult man to put down. on cases like the latter, jake would use a gun or dagger. if his fists can't take them down, these things surely will.

it's gruesome to say the least, the way he can only come out when he's required to by his duty as khonshu's avatar or when marc faces imminent danger. he never needed to take control over steven because the brit wasn't in any danger working at the museum.

the only time he took over steven was to ask that one coworker of his out for steak. shame she thought it was steven, but he can't exactly give himself away in steven's workplace. poor man didn't need any more confusion and mess when he's already on his boss' bad side. steven didn't need jake to add another reason to her ever growing list to hate him.

selfish, taking what I want and call it mine

i'm helpless, clinging to a little bit of spine

they rush me, telling me I'm running out of time

they shush me (sssh), walking me across a fragile line

the only time jake gets to front for a long time, say two days, is when the system is exhausted. if marc pushed himself too hard or steven tried staying up all night again, jake gets absolute freedom for a few days.

he works as a cabbie, it's a method he uses to lure the poor victims on khonshu's hit list. one day, the door to his cab opens, to lo and behold, beautiful, innocent you.

jake never believed in love at first sight, he thinks it's cringe and stupid but you, oh you just proved him wrong.

dressed in a simple yellow sundress and white cardigan to maintain decency, you were a pop of color amongst london's gray streets and brick walls. you looked like sunshine after the rain personified.

you greeted him with a smile, telling him where you were headed, a psychiatric hospital near the general hospital. he was never one to make small talk with his innocent customers, until you. you who made jake break nearly every rule he's told himself since he cannot front for long periods of time. but you? oh he had quite the fun talking to you.

on the short trip it took to take you there, he had managed to learn that you work there as a permanent staff. he also learned of your name, testing the way it rolls off his tongue and ended up sounding like music to his ears. you gladly indulged his questions, a naturally friendly person, he notes to himself as he listens to you talk in his backseat, occasionally watching you through his rearview mirror.

it's another thing he finds out he likes about you but he can't help but worry if people would dare try and take advantage of you with your sweet smiles and lovely personality. jake shouldn't really bother himself with such thoughts but he found it hard to resist, not when it comes to you he realizes.

i sold my soul to a three-piece

and he told me i was holy

he's got me down on both knees

but it's the devil that's tryna

khonshu knows about jake's new fascination with you. he'd often remind the man to forget about you, that you'd be nothing but a mere distraction to the higher purpose he's taken jake in.

on the rare times jake fronts in broad daylight, he would wait for your morning shift to end, parked outside the psychiatric hospital's door, leaning against his car with a cigarette lit and between his lips, the nicotine burning warmth into his lungs as he puffs out the smoke to london's every chilly air.

you'd come out of the doors mere minutes later in your casual clothes, the colors making your eyes stand out more as you smile and wave at him, bounding towards him with a giggle. he'd put out his cigarette, stomp it with the sole of his shoe before opening his arms to a welcoming embrace.

more often than not he'd lead you to his car with an arm slung over your shoulders, getting as close as he can amd enveloping himself in your floral and nectarine scent. he likes how your perfume lingers on the fabric of his jacket sometimes, it makes him feel like you're still with him even if he dropped you home hours ago.

jake began to pick you up more often on the two months marc and steven's worlds began to collide. he took advantage of marc's grief of the loss of his mother and steven's apparent confusion of missing days in his work.

he used those two months to build the relationship he has with you now, still platonic but there was definitely something more. if your lingering touches and flirty quips were anything to prove.

so he waits for you in the cold london air during the end of your shifts, sometimes even takes you to work when your night shift starts if he has the chance, and you'd always greet him with a smile and wave.

one time though, khonshu decided he's had enough of jake's silly little crush on you. it's past 7 in the morning, jake's driving you home and you were sat in the back and talking his ear off about the things that happened during your shift. he'd laugh and make a comment or two but he's more focused on driving, choosing to enjoy the sound of your voice as he does so. but the god has other plans.

he materializes himself, seated next to your oblivious self, just within jake's peripheral in the rearview mirror. the sight of the skeletal bird next to you has him tightening his hold on the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were definitely white under the leather gloves he wore.

he hates seeing the god next to you, his tall and boney form too undeserving of your sunshine and warmth, not that khonshu wanted either of those.

"i told you to stop meeting this woman jake." khonshu reminds him, to which he only responds with a clench of his jaw, "¡no te atrevas a tocarla!" he grumbles under his breath. "what was that jake?" you ask, curious and innocent to the 7 foot tall god next to you threatening him about you.

"do you really think she'll still love you, no— like you once she finds out who you really are?" the egyptian deity goads, thumping his staff on his car's floor.

"¡cállate, maldito pájaro!" he cusses out, a little harsher, a little louder this time. it makes your brows furrow, moving to the edge of your seat as you place a hand on the back of his seat on the driver's side.

"no, really jake... are you okay?" you were concerned for him, which warms his heart but does not ease the foreboding feeling of fear that he was about to lose you. he fights himself not to think about it right now, not while you are still around.

"estoy bien, neña. no te preocupes." you were glad to have taken your spanish classes in highschool seriously, often mingling with patients in the hospital who also spoke the language. "if you say so. but! if you need a friend to talk to, i'm always here for you."

of course, that's the type of person you were. kind, caring, to jake you were the most precious person there is in his otherwise bleak life. like a soft patch of grass and wildflowers in the otherwise dry land he calls life.

"por supuesto, cariño. ahora siéntate bien, no puedes lastimarte de alguna manera." he smiles, not wanting to worry you any further.

khonshu slams his scepter down once more, the echo loud in jake's ears as the threat of the god's words loom over him like his skeletal shadow before fading out of sight.

"stop this jake, while i am letting you or else i will do it for you."

hold me down, hold me down

sneaking out the back door, make no sound

knock me out, knock me out

saying that i want more, this is what i live for

he would never allow khonshu to get his hands on you. he may be the god he serves but he wasn't going to let him dictate his life. though deep down jake knew better than to go against him because he would never want you to get hurt. especially because of him. and if disappearing quietly from your life is what keeps you out of harm's way, then so be it.

it's been two weeks since jake last picked you up. he's avoided fronting as much as he could, only coming out whenever he's called in the middle of the night.

you thought he was just busy. he was a cabbie after all, he had other people to pick up and bring to their destinations. he won't always be available to take you home. doesn't mean you didn't miss him though. jake has made a small home in your heart, driving his way into your life and permanently parking himself there, a spot dedicated to jake and only jake.

he was the highlight of your day whenever he would come around the psych hospital, all the fatigue and weariness easing off your bones once he'd sling his arm around you.

so these past two weeks, your heart quietly sinks when you don't see his cab parked just outside the doors of the hospital, a cold puff of air greeting you instead of jake's warm embrace as he meets you, smelling of cigarette and leather and musk. you'd end your shift a little disheartened as you hail a cab to bring you home, always secretly hoping it was jake who would stop and take you in.

hold me down, hold me down

throw me in the deep end, watch me drown

knock me out, knock me out

saying that i want more, this is what i live for

jake missed you as well in those two weeks, terribly so. it felt like hell being in the dark corner's of steven and marc's consciousness where he'd wonder how you were doing, if you were okay. if you missed him like he missed you. you did, but he didn't know. couldn't know because of the risk he knows he'll put you under if he fronts to meet you.

it's half past two in the morning when he's able to grab hold of the body, his movements sluggish because none of them were getting enough rest with marc drinking his memories away when khonshu wasn't sending him off to places, steven would stay up late just to catch himself and keep himself from doing god knows what in his sleep and jake, who'd take control of their shared body at the wee hours of the night, barely an hour of sleep in their system but does he care right now? no. why? because two weeks of being away from you was hell and he won't stand another second of not being in your presence.

so he throws the sheets off their body, puts on more presentable clothes from steven's wardrobe since he was the one fronting during the day these past weeks. he found a simple gray sweatshirt and hoodie, exchanged his pajama pants for a pair of jeans and protected his feet with a pair of old sneakers the brit rarely wears.

after that he takes his time to walk to you, not caring if it would take him a while. he'd use this time to think carefully about what to say to you if he manages to even catch your attention while you work. or maybe you'd be on a quick break? he hopes so.

hold me down now

hold me down now

hold me down

jake was so absorbed in his thoughts he didn't realize he was already at the hospital had it not been for your hands holding his shoulders. "jake?" came your voice, soft culverts coming out in a whisper that rings so loudly and lovely in his ears in the silence of london's empty streets. he snaps out of his trance upon hearing your voice, so sweet and kind.

wordlessly, he pulls you in an embrace, not caring at the moment if khonshu was watching his every movement, he just wanted to be as close to you as possible. at first you were surprised, unsure on whether or not to reciprocate but in the end you do.

how could you not when your heart misses him so? even if he smelled different, like old books and clean linens, there was a scent you'd recognize anywhere that belongs solely to jake.

with your arms wrapped around his form, holding his body against yours as you breathe him in. he was real and he was holding you. it soothes the yearning that settled in your body in an instant. he was real and he felt like a safety net, anchoring you back to shore, rescuing you just in time to pull you back above waters before you sink into a sea of emotional turmoil.

that night in each other's embrace, you both felt like you'd come home after a long and exhausting day of being so far apart from each other. in that silence, you had both found solace and understanding where you stood in each other's lives. he was special to you as you were to him. jake had put up a delicate white fence over the luscious green grass and blooming flowers you had planted in his heart, his own garden in his desert he calls life. you were his oasis.

i sold my soul to a three-piece

and he told me I was holy

he's got me down on both knees

but it's the devil that's tryna

after that visit, jake slips away from your grasp again. steven and marc had found themselves in cairo, quietly lending them a hand when it mattered, saving them when their life began teetering close to the edge and quietly returning to his corner. they didn't need to know about him. not yet, not while his hands remain bloody and his ledger dripping red like waterfalls.

he helped marc amd steven out of sticky situations, even saving layla a few times as well. he thinks it's nice that marc had found a safe haven of his own with the woman but jake can't help but feel a little angry and jealous because he can't have you that way. not when they share the same body and face. so he took that bubbling anger out on the poor soul that had tried to hurt him, knuckles bloody and raw from punching so their face it's almost unrecognizable with all the blood pouring from their head to their mouth.

even though he was helping the two out in stopping an ancient god from killing off millions of people, jake's selfishness can't help but think of you during your time apart. he misses you even more now, he realizes. he wonders if he'll be able to see you again after this.

hold me down, hold me down

sneaking out the back door, make no sound

knock me out, knock me out

saying that i want more, this is what i live for

jake was proud of marc from his hidden corner of their consciousness when he refused to kill harrow, against khonshu's orders. he felt happy that his brother no longer had to stain his hands any redder than they should. but deep down jake knew he would be the one to end it all. after all, he is their protector (and with his affections for you, that extended to you as well).

he knew that khonshu would call for him one day soon to finish what marc cannot, for he is, after all, the one that carries the burden of dirtying his hands for them.

that was the deal he had bargained for his brother/s after all.

hold me down, hold me down

throw me in the deep end, watch me drown

knock me out, knock me out

saying that i want more, this is what i live for

jake finds himself in front of your hospital one afternoon when they returned from their duty in egypt. harrow was sent here, an idea he had left in marc's subconscious. in reality, it was just so he'd be able to see a glimpse of you.

selfish as it was, he thinks it's the only way he can see you again. he takes hold of harrow's wheelchair from a nurse, telling her in spanish that he was there for him. she had seemed to understand and let him be, moving on to a different patient to care for.

jake walks down the halls of the hospital, hoping to see even the faintest glimpse of your bright smile but to no avail. what he doesn't know though, was that you had seen him first, unsure in the beginning but you saw his signature cap and gloves and you knew for sure your eyes weren't playing tricks on you.

he was back and he was taking one of the patients admitted at the ward? throughout the time he's picked you up and took you home, he's never said anything about knowing someone in here. you followed him silently, asking one of your co-workers to cover for you a bit.

you see him take arthur harrow inside a limo you didn't know he drove, kicking the wheelchair with such anger it makes you pause in your steps just a little ways from the exit. you see him enter the driver's side, windows rolled up and slams the door shut, you took that as cue to make your way out. you approach the limo with hesitant steps, about to knock on the tinted windows when you see two flashes of light from inside the car, the muffled sound of a gun ringing so loud it has you gasping, snatching your hand back before it lands on the glass.

jake did what he had to, he sought justice to the death their body suffered from when harrow shot them within the dig site where steven discovered ammit's ushabti. it was time to repay the favor, he had shot them twice so he thought it was only fair to do the same. though this time, arthur harrow won't have the same chance to return to the land of the living the way marc and steven did. he had to atone for his sins, there was no redemption for arthur harrow.

but he hears something outside his limo, makes him roll his windows down just a tiny bit only to see your shaken form right outside, fear and shock evident in your features; from the way you held your hands, holding yourself as you took some steps back and away from the white vehicle. jake knew right there and then that he had scared you away, that he might have just lost you. the god in his backseat remained quiet, his presence like a foreboding shadow.

"i told you to stop seeing her didn't i jake lockley? did you really think she'll accept the life you live, the blood staining your hands?"

a part of jake knew that the tall bird was correct but he didn't want to accept it, he couldn't— wouldn't believe it. he loves you and he knows you do too, if that one late night visit says anything about how you two felt about each other. but the longer he stared at your scared form, the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, the more jake began to realize he had to get away.

yes marc didn't deserve to know about the red on his hands...

translations:

¡no te atrevas a tocarla! — don't you fucking dare touch her

estoy bien, nena. no te preocupes. — i'm fine baby. don't worry.

por supuesto, cariño. ahora siéntate bien, no puedes lastimarte de alguna manera. — of course sweetheart. now sit properly, can't have you injuring yourself somehow.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Hi Wifi!

I had this idea, since Easter is coming up where I'm from we're gonna be decorating easter eggs (or pisanki as we call them in Poland, tbh I'm not too sure if easter eggs and pisanki are that much different but they've been quite culturally significant to us so anyway) and I thought about doing just that with FL (and Ajax too of course).

Just imagine him trying not to crush a wydmuszka (emptied out egg shell) or just a boiled egg and we take pity on him and find some egg shaped rocks or sth for him to paint/scratch designs on. And after that somewhere in the house there're multiple pisanki that we, FL and Ajax (gotta include him as well) made on full display because they all came out so beautiful (even though the ones FL made may be a little more crude) <333

Anyway I just thought that since Snezhnaya it's based on Slavic countries in general it'd be fun to see since of my own traditions y'know

OHHHH this is SO CUTE!!! i don't personally celebrate Easter but i will say the eggs (and chocolate) are very lovely

it'd be so sweet if Ajax was the one who taught you how to make (in terms of the emptied shells) and paint the pisanki- it's something he did with his family every year! at least, before Harbinger duties took up all his time. but now he's got you, who just happens to live right where he's stationed, so why not give it a shot? he has to fight back a snicker when you accidentally crack a shell, then absolutely loses it and starts laughing his head off when you break a whole raw egg by mistake- which quickly turns into an undignified squawk when you smudge raw egg whites on his face... you end up with a few more broken eggs than painted ones, but still, he teaches you some traditional patterns and techniques, and soon you have a good cluster of painted eggs, a few even with Liyue-inspired styles that you came up with

Foul Legacy finds it a little more difficult to paint the eggs with such big claws and hands- he has to hold the eggshells just right so they don't immediately crack, and the tiny paintbrush is slightly unsteady at best and a straight up nuisance at worst. still, he does his absolute best to draw little patterns dotted with stars and ocean waves and glassy fragments, even making two eggs with constellations, one for him and one for you. his favorite part is helping you find a good place to display them, picking you up with a cheerful chirp so you can set them somewhere high enough. you sit on his shoulder afterwards, looking at the eggs that you, Legacy, and Ajax all decorated, feeling your fluffy Abyss monster rumble in delight as he trills at the sight, a fanged grin stretched across his crimson plated face

you decide that you rather like this tradition <33

[fangbangerghoul]

Header originally made by @thatsgoodsquishy0

Hello everyone! I am pleased to share a great event we had in our Comrade Coe's Spouses discord server for Valetine's Day!

This server is full of wonderful creatives who all share one thing in common, our love for Starfield. Okay...maybe two and our love for the bisexual single dad space cowboy! We love to support each other in our creative endeavors and to showcase this this post is going to have all the pieces from our Valetine's Day Art Trade!

Each person who signed up was randomly paired with another. We had a channel to fill out a small form of what they preferred, what they were willing to create, and their do's and don'ts in receiving other creations! We allowed about 8 weeks for people to discuss, plan, and create their own masterpieces!

Our server is always open for incoming members and there are only a few things that you need to know before requesting to join.

You must be over 21

You must love or at least appreciate Starfield

And you are joining for a good time, some creative vibes, and with an open mind!

Just tap or click on the link embedded in the server's name above for more information on how to join!

banner made by @bearlytolerant

Everything you will see below is crafted by a member of our server! There will be links to their Tumblr and ao3 links to check more of their work out!

Please feel free to show their blogs some love and their fics on ao3 as well! You can also check out their other works under the tag The Coemancer Crew. One of the core values of our community is supporting each other's creative pieces and we hope you all would love to participate in doing the same!

@atonalginger's

Anton x Sam Astral Haze

@thatsgoodsquishy0's

From Death; A Life

You almost died. Sam's grateful you're alive.

“Wait until Constellation hears about this,” you say, accompanied by a shaky laugh. “I wonder if they’ll even believe us.” He shakes his head. “They should, they don’t have to. We were there. We survived. You survived. That’s all that matters in my book.” His realism brings your gaze to the table, though a swirl of gratitude rises in the back of your mouth, coming out in a weak smile. This was nice. Peaceful, but not enough. There was still untouched territory to discuss. You lift your head, eyes soft and sincere. Unsure. “I wouldn’t be here without your help, Sam.” A pink flush spreads across his cheeks as he smiles. Averting his gaze, his pupils dart across the wall, and you notice they focus on nothing in particular. He shuts his eyes, and you suspected he was replaying the evening. You cock your head, curious. If you could pry open the contents of Sam Coe’s brain, you would, and you would soak up everything about that man, a fact you hadn’t truly believed until tonight.

@fangbangerghoul's

Crimson Slut

@bearlytolerant's

Paint It Crimson

Delgado is tired of Ghoul not resting so he takes matters into his own hands. His attempt means trying to teach her a new hobby.

She chuckles and he chooses not to engage any longer. He’s been toyed with enough. Even if that’s what they do. Argue and bicker. Pull their claws and bare their fangs until eventually he walks away with enough of his pride beaten down, dragging his ego behind him a little broken and worse for wear. It happens often enough that he can’t say he always comes out the winner. But he is weary of the game today. He wants to be nice. Try to be nice. He is determined to be nice. Another step and he reaches around her head and tugs at the blindfold. The knot unravels. Unfurls. He removes it in one smooth motion, tossing it to the floor. Then he thumbs her chin, tilting her head up to get a good glimpse of her. He gazes into her citrine eyes. The warm glow from his hanging lamp, hovering over the tall snake tongued leaves of the sansevieria in the corner of the room, reflects off her irises and they glimmer and shine just like a gemstone. Thoughts waxing poetic, he blinks them away before he speaks them aloud. “I wanted to surprise you.” He releases her chin.

@silurisanguine's

So coy

@eridanidreams's

Twisted Towards the Light

Seren and Sam run into a little bit more excitement than they expected when taking down Tawny Adams...

Sam leaned against the wall. "We having fun yet?" He was breathing a little harder than usual; she gave him a quick once-over, but his suit seemed intact. He caught her look and gave her the grin she'd come to love. "I know you like what you see," he purred, "but maybe look a little less like you want to rip my suit right off until we're done? Mercs might get the wrong idea." Seren couldn't help but laugh. "Arse," she growled. "And a fine one," he agreed. "Though yours," he eyed her up and down, "might be even finer. Pity that your suit hides it, or we could do a real close comparison. Hands-on, even." "Focus, Sam," she reminded him, hitting the 'cycle' button. "Bad guys that way." "I am focused," he said, sounding innocent as the day was long. (In the case of this misbegotten little moon, that was only 4.5 UT hours, so… not all that innocent.) "I'm just a busy man. I have to work in all that quality time of thinking about me and you."