#i have the incessant NEED to share my interests with people

[bookishforce]

.

[marvellous1917]

Icarus Falling Far.

(Part 3)

Pairing: mob!bucky x tattoo artist!female!reader

Summary: it’s the day after giving the dangerous mobster his first tattoo, and he hasn’t contacted you yet. What a dick.

Warnings: cursing, crime, mentions of guns, stalking/harassment (brief), think that’s it.

Word count: 3.6k ish

A/N: i had no plan to make this story into a mini-series, so if this seems a little unplanned… it is. Anyway, hope you like it my loves 😘

(This is not beta’s so any mistakes are my own)

Part 2 ⬇️:

———————

Bold is readers thoughts

Italics is Bucky's thoughts

This starts in Bucky’s POV.

———————

His home office was always the place he went to feel at peace. Ironic really, considering the dealings done within the room. The walls had seen him order his men to assassinate his rivals, to eliminate anybody that got in their way. The desk had felt the tip of the pen write extortionate contracts, sent silently to some of the cities most powerful people, the non-explicit threat sent with photos of their family’s, to reminds them what they were risking if they refused to comply. The window that felt the full strength of his prosthetic too many times to count. The hole in the floor after one of his employees managed to literally shoot himself in the foot. {guess who}

But his peace was teetering on a cliffs edge. His hands were woven into his hair, pulling to try and alleviate the headache forming. Elbows resting on his desk as his eyes stayed staring at one specific groove in the wood.

A knock at the door broke his trance and he sighed. It was a rule in the Compound that if the boss was in his office and the door was closed, you do not interrupt or enter unless there was an emergency. Only one man was brave enough to completely disregard Bucky’s rule, which had led to some… interesting situations when Bucky had girls in there with him.

“Come in,” he called, knowing the longer he waited to respond, the louder and more incessant the knocking would become.

The door opened and there was Bucky’s very own personal dumbass: Steve Rogers. The man had been a part of Bucky’s life since as long as he could remember, if-fact some of his earliest memories were with Steve; young boys playing cops and robbers together, attempting to protect Steve when he picked a fight he had no business being in- which had led to Bucky getting his ass beat as well, and scheming together about how to make sure that Simon Justin never played baseball again after pulling his sisters hair on the playground.

“Fuck me Buck, I’m not sure if today could have been anymore fucked,” Steve stated as he collapsed on to the couch, flinging his legs over one arm and resting his head in the other.

Today was a stressful fucking day.

It was the day that Bucky was making all necessary moves. Why all the problems had to pop up now, he wasn’t sure. And the kicker to this awful day? He had no time to talk to you, the girl he could not get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. You’d managed to flood his mind, memories of the kiss you shared playing over and over again.

“Did you close the door?” Bucky asked, not moving an inch.

“Yeah.”

“Good because I do not need anyone else talking to me right now,” Bucky said, his voice low and quiet, an air of danger ever-present in his tone.

“C’mon Buck, y’know you love them,” Steve responds with a dopey little smirk on his face, and he tilts his head to make eye contact with the man he calls his brother.

I hate that fuckin smile.

He softly hums his agreement and returns to inspecting the groove on his desk.

“We just gotta talk it out, figure out what the fuck is going on, then plan our next moves accordingly,” Steve says, swinging his legs back to the floor, hands clasped together, his arms leaning on his knees.

“Yeah thanks man, I didn’t think about figuring everything out, maybe I’ll give that a go now” Bucky retorts with weak sarcasm, mind too busy, replaying the events of the day.

“I can leave you alone to get lost in your head, or we can figure this shit out together. It’s your call jerk.” Steve says, tilting his head down to catch Bucky’s eye.

“Alright.”

“Stop pulling your hair jackass.” He adds.

I hate it when you do that.

Bucky drops his hands to the desk and says, “Ok let’s start this debrief with Walker.”

“Nat’s got his ass tied up in the basement for ya, he’s ready when you are.”

“Anybody looking for him?”

“One frustratingly loyal friend, but he has no idea that Johnny-boy is with us. The rest of his little fan club have no idea he’s even missing.”

“Ok, one problem down. Rumlow?” It’s the question he doesn’t want the answer to. He’d much rather spend his time thinking about you. His history with Brock Rumlow was bloody and painful, for both of them. There was only one person from his past that Bucky hadn’t dealt with, and here he was, coming back to ruin the name Bucky had made for himself.

Rumlow knew things about Bucky’s past that made him a a high security threat, but after he failed to blow himself up in an attempt to kill Bucky, he had disappeared. Bucky thought it was finally over, but the asshole popped back up about a year ago, with more power than before, making himself seemingly untouchable by Bucky’s hand.

“Currently moving like he has been, not causing too much trouble for us, though his crew are getting closer and closer to our dealings at the port.” Steve said, a slight look of digits on his face.

“Put extra hands down there for the next couple weeks, see if we can’t scare them off a little.”

“Yes boss. I’ll let them know after this.”

“The commissioner’s dealt with?” Buck asks, remembering the deviation the man had decided to make.

“Yep, send him that gift basket. He called Sam this morning and agreed to our terms.”

“Good. How’s Barton?” He asks, moving into what they class as ‘personal business’.

“Pissed, man. He wants blood for what happened, we all do.” Steve answers, the memory of seeing Clint covered in blood and bruised made his blood simmer.

“We sure it wasn’t Rumlows’ lot, or fuck even Walker?

“Walkers’ fanclub do not have the brain cells, the power, or the information to organise an attack like that, and Parker tracked Rumlow and his men, all are accounted for and have alibis. This is someone new.”

Oh for fuck’s sake. Isn’t two power hungry assholes enough.

“We haven’t found anything? No security cameras, no cell tower pings?” Bucky asks, leaning back in his chair, resting his head on the back.

“Actually, I sent Scott there this morning to check out if there was anything left there and he found something.” Steve responds, some apprehension creeping into his voice.

That got Bucky’s attention. His head snapped back up and locked eyes with Steve who now stood in-front of his desk, pacing back and forth slightly.

“Care to share with the class Rogers?” His voice was hard now, his extreme dislike of not knowing all the information shining through.

Steve exhales sharply, biting his tongue to not retort and piss Bucky off more.

“He found a package tucked behind a dumpster addressed to ‘Bucky Barnes’ that had a memory stick-“

“Like a USB?” Bucky interrupted.

“- Yeah a USB-“ he gets cut off again.

“Then just say USB, calling it a ‘memory stick’ makes you sound 100 years old.”

“-oh dear god, you gonna let me finish?” Steve responds.

Bucky waved his hand at him, a sign for him to continue.

“Scott found a package addressed to you with a USB inside, we gave it to Stark ‘cos Parker was busy tracking down Rumlows crew, and he checked it out and told us it was completely normal, no virus or anything bad in it.”

“Was there anything on it?” Bucky asks, his brow furrowed.

“It..uh..has two pictures on it.” Steve said lowly.

“…of?”

“It’s probably better if I just show you.” Steve said, his tone of voice made Bucky a little nervous.

Steve took out his phone, tapped a couple of time before turning it around to give to Bucky. As soon as the latter had ahold of the phone, Steve took a full step back, which caused Bucky to raise his eyebrows in question.

“Just look.” He says in response to Bucky’s unasked question.

He looked down at the screen and almost immediately removed his left hand as to not break the phone.

Fuck. Shit.

The first picture was of the night he met you. It was taken through the window for you apartment, and clearly showed both you and Bucky, stood side by side, looking through your flash book.

“What the fuck is this?” He pushes out through gritted teeth.

“I assuming that’s the tattoo artist you told me about, the one you got a thing for?” Steve says.

The one I’m obsessed with.

When Bucky gives him a sharp nod, Steve just drops his head, suddenly fascinated with his shoes.

“Shit.” He says under his breath.

“What?” Bucky’s voice was louder now.

“Look at the next picture.” Steve says while avoiding eye contact.

Bucky looks down, his finger swiping to the next picture before he can think about it.

No. No no fuck. Not her.

The next photo was taken from inside the apartment. Inside your bedroom. It’s of you. Asleep. Completely unaware of the danger stood at the foot of your bed.

Bucky couldn’t look away, he was frozen staring at the picture. Your shorts and oversized tee had both ridden up slightly, showing how truly vulnerable you are. The clock on your table showed the time as 3:54 and showed the date.

“…this was taken this morning.”

“..yeah.”

fuck.

———————

Fuck Bucky Barnes.

The bastard hadn’t contacted you since the shop.

Bitch ass told me to keep my phone on so I wouldn’t miss his message, kept me glued to my phone like a weirdo waiting for him to call… and he didn’t. Dick.

Despite the annoyance at the very very attractive mobster, you couldn’t help wonder how he was, what he was doing, if he was thinking about you too.

You’re overthinking about Bucky was interrupted by a knock at your door.

“One sec!” You shout to whoever’s there, getting up and walking to the door. The second you undo the lock, the door is being pushed into your face with a chorus of greetings.

“Come in I guess,” you say to the three who just walked in.

“Well thanks darlin, you got food?” Billy responds, already making his way to the fridge.

“Don’t fucking eat my pizza Bill, I swear I’ll kill you,” you answer, giving both Frank and Curtis a hug, letting the door close behind them.

He laughs off your threat as the others take a seat on your couch.

“Not that I don’t love you guys, but why the fuck are you here?” You ask, moving back to the arm chair in the corner and taking a seat, your phone pinging in the back ground.

“What, we can’t pop in on you whenever we want?” Frank says, leaning back in the arm of the couch, moving to put his feet in the coffee table.

“Frankie if you put your feet on my table, I’m gonna beat you with a spoon.” You call at him.

He freezes and slowly lowers his feet back to the floor.

“We just wanted to come see how you were…Frank told us about Barnes.” Curtis says, cutting into the conversation and completely dampening the mood.

God-fucking-dammit Frank.

Oh fuck do I tell them that he’s not an issue and I actually quite like him.

“Yeah are you ok sweetheart?” Billy asks and he collapses on the couch in the middle of the other boys.

“I’m fine guys, I swear, like I told Frank he’s actually not bad,” you answer, shifting uncomfortable lay in your seat due to the indecision of how much to tell them, “He was nice, polite and kind of…charming, I guess-”

“Is that why you kissed him?” Frank interrupts.

Shit, how does he know?

“-what?”

“You kissed him. Or rather he kissed you but you seemed to enjoy it.” Billy says with an annoying smirk on his face.

“How do you know that?” You ask, shock still written all over your face.

“..the security cameras, kid. You forget about those?”

Ahh fuck.

“Ahh fuck,” you say out loud.

“What the hell are you doing making out with a mobster, Y/N?” Curtis responds, looking at you with those eyes of his that show he’s not judging, just trying to understand.

“I..uh..I wasn’t-really-thinking.” You put you hands on your head, even though Curtis wasn’t judging you, the other two definitely were.

“Obviously you weren’t, he’s a goddam mobster Y/N-” Billy starts, anger in his voice, but you cut him off.

“I know that Bill, ok, I do,” you say, shifting to place your feet on the floor, “but he’s not the animal you think he is, he’s kind and considerate and he makes me feel…” happy. you cut off before the last word, wanting to keep that realisation to yourself for a little longer.

“Plus you bastards can’t be judging me for meeting the guy twice, only yourselves and the devil knows what fucked shit you three have been up to.” You almost shout.

“The fuck does that mean?” Frank answers.

“C’mon Frank I’m not stupid, you three have some shady shit in your pasts. I mean you were goddam military for fucks sake, and don’t think I don’t see the fake payments on the books at the shop-“

“Stop Y/N.” Billy cuts you off. “Stop it now.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving yours.

You were about to respond to his demand, when a knock sounded at the door.

“Told you to keep you phone on.” A dark voice calls through the door.

Oh shit. No no no not now please not now.

“Who the fuck is that?” Frank asks, suddenly sitting up straight, eyes pinned on the door. Both Billy and Curtis stand, facing the door as if waiting for it to bust off it’s hinges.

“Please all of you, shut the fuck up and don’t do anything dumb,” you answer, moving towards the door.

“Is that him?” Curtis asks.

“Didn’t I just say shut the fuck up,” you retort a little snappier, opening the door slightly.

He cut his hair, it’s looks good on him.

Bucky lowers his arm from his thwarted attempt at a second knock and says, “Is your phone broken or are you ignoring me?” The smirk on his face made your heart beat a little faster.

“Neither, I just missed your text because I have some friends over right now,” you say.

“Is that why you’re not opening the door properly? I can barley see you,” he says with a grin.

“…kinda? Ok wait..” you exit your apartment, pulling the door closed fully behind you, “long story short, they know about the k.. uh about what happened at the shop, and they know who you are and they are not happy about it.”

His eyes darken and his smirk grows wider at the almost mention of the kiss. He shifts until he’s leaning his shoulder on the wall by your door.

“Oh yeah? Doesn’t really matter what they think though, does it doll? Both you and I know how much you enjoyed it.” He says, mouth forming a cheeky grin.

Oh my god.

“Me? You’re the one who started it Bucky, seemed you enjoyed it more,” you respond, having no idea where the confidence came from.

He hums at your statement and says “Well I can admit that I did enjoy our kiss sweetheart, but I may need a little reminder of how it went, it’s been a long day you see.”

“Bucky-” you’re cut of by him stepping closer until your chests are barley touching, the new position making you tilt your head back to see him better.

“What darlin? You ok with this?” He asks slowly, tilting his head to the side slightly, looking into your eyes for any sign of discomfort.

Why does he have to be so sweet.

You nod in answer to his question and he smiles. Not the terrifying grin or the cheeky smirk, but a genuine smile - one that makes him even more beautiful. Bucky raises his right arm, dragging his thumb over your lips and cupping your cheek while you stare up at him, his other hand sneaks around your back, pulling you flush to him.

“You have no idea what to do to me, do ya?” He mumbles, probably not intending for you to respond as he’s closing the gap between you. The kiss is harsh and a little messy, shocking you slightly with his apparent desperation, hands holding you tightly. He takes advantage of your shock, tracing your lips with his tongue and pushing past to deepen the kiss.

His hand drops from you face to your waist, gripping so tightly, you’re sure he’ll have left a bruise. That thought got you’re heart pumping faster, the idea that an imprint of his hands, his fingers would be left on your skin. It felt right. Bucky pushes you until your back hits the wall, hips fitting against yours almost perfectly, one leg sneaking between yours as you let a light whimper escape.

You break the kiss to get some air, leaning your forehead against his, both of you catching your breath.

“Bucky, I mis-”, you didn’t get to finish the sentence before your door opens and you’re suddenly faced with three pissed off ex-marines.

-(Bucky’s P.O.V)

Bucky immediately steps back, releasing you, and straightens his posture. He looks at the men, quietly analysing them. He can tell that they either are or were military, and definitely care immensely about you, probably to the point of beating the crap out of anyone that hurt you.

The one in the middle is a frightening creature , he thinks, but the wedding band means he has something to loose, he should be less quick to anger, in theory.

The one on the right with the short buzz cut and the tense muscles reminds him of Clint, he’s ready to fight at the drop of a hat, and by the look on his face, I’m gonna be his next target.

The man on the left intrigued Bucky the most. His face is blank, showing nothing. He’s favouring one of his legs, and the other shows a bulky piece of metal at the bottom. Wonder if that’s an old military injury.

“Guys, what are you doing?” You ask, apprehension in your voice. Bucky wonders if you’re scared for them or for him.

“Oh we are gonna head out, let you have some time to really think about what we talked about.” The man in the middle says, putting emphasis on the word really.

“Frank please-”

“No it’s ok sweetheart,” Bucky bristles at the pet name the Clint wannabe says, “we’ll see you later.”

“Billy-”

“Shit, I left my phone on your table, could you get it for me?” The other says to you, cutting off your words, smiling at you to calm the stressed look on your face.

“Of course Cutis, one sec,” you respond, Turing to Bucky at the end of your sentence with a look at says please don’t make this worse.

You pass by the men and let the door fall closed behind you.

The silence is tense as the men all stare at each-other.

“So…how’s your man doing? Y’know the one that got jumped,” Billy says, smirking at Bucky.

“How do you know that?” Bucky asks as his muscles tense.

“…Y/N told us, obviously,” Billy says.

The pause was intentional, she didn’t tell them that.

“He’s fine, thanks.” Bucky responds shortly, all to aware of the lie he was just told.

The door opens just before Billy can respond, all four men going silent again.

“Here it is Curtis, guess I’ll see you guys later then,” you say, before hugging each man.

The three shoulder past Bucky as if he was just a man on the street, no care in the world that he could have them killed for that disrespect. But he lets this one slide, for her, as they’re her friends.

“Did you tell them about Clint?” He knows it was a lie but he needs to make sure his cynical brain isn’t marking it up.

“No? Why?” You answer, unaware of the turmoil occurring in Bucky’s head.

Then how the fuck do they know.

“Give me one minute doll, I forgot something at the car,” he says, “go on inside I’ll be back soon.”

“Uh.. okay.” You answer, walking back into the apartment.

He watches the door and as soon as it closes he is moving back down the stairs, hoping to catch and ask the men how they knew about Clint. Bucky normally has an reasonable explanation for everything, but this time he was stumped. He catches them outside the front door to the building, the three of them stood leaning against their car, watching the door, waiting for him to come out.

“How do you know?” He repeats his question from before, voice lower and more dangerous now.

“Y’know…that bastard has a solid right hook.” Billy says. The sentence sends red hot anger through Bucky’s blood.

It was them. But that means…

“Did you get our package?” The big one in the middle asks, Frank, she called him.

Fuck. The anger that has been burning in his veins since the second he saw those photos of you pours out of him and he immediately pulls a gun on Frank.

“Hey now that’s not smart, is it?” Curtis asks in a placating tone.

“Don’t forget about our girl up there. What’s she gonna think if you shoot me for no reason?” Frank says, unflinching staring down the barrel of Bucky’s gun.

Fuck. Fuck. These bastard are the ones threatening everything, they jumped Clint and are using you to get to him. They’re your friends and you? You have absolutely no idea.

————

Yo this took so long to do!! Hope you like my lil twisty turn at the end there 😈.

Lemme know what u think 😘

Tagged :

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[dduane]

Hi Diane!!

You answered an ask just recently wherein you talked about how the Writer Brain often is continually working "behind the scenes" in ways that don't necessarily manifest as words on a page. As someone in the midst of two year (and counting) writing hiatus, this was such a helpful reminder. I'm becoming a mature enough writer to recognize when I'm simply too exhausted to enjoy the the fun parts of writing, and to trust that the magic will come back when I'm ready for it.

The very next day, because OF COURSE it was the very next day, you won't be surprised to hear I had a revelation. I was playing a video game that has nothing to do with anything in my writing world, when a full and complete fix to a plot problem I *hadn't even realized I'd been having* hit me like a truck.

It was a beautiful moment. The whole third act outline changed into something emotionally coherent. And my guess, based on paying attention to your writing advice for some time now, is that my brain was secretly working on this plan the whole time. Even without going near a keyboard for ages. Maybe even while I was at work, or parenting, or sleeping.

That it happened during a moment of relaxation can't be a coincidence. I'm still not ready to return to writing, but when I am I'll have a reliable outline to work with, as well as a good deal of renewed excitement.

Thank you for sharing your experience with us so freely! We are so lucky to count you as a member of our community on this hellsite (affectionate). Thanks for being here :)

For whatever help I may have been—because you and your brain are plainly managing this perfectly well—you're absolutely more than welcome. :)

A continuing difficulty for a lot of writers these days, old or new, is that many of us are embedded in cultural matrices that insist that if something's not working, you should immediately do something about it to fix it. The pressure to Do Something about whatever's not functioning is incessant. (Just look around, for examples close to home, at all the advice on dealing with writer's block. Do this! Do that! Don't do this, do something else!... ad infinitum.) There's not a lot of acceptance of or even interest in advice that centers the idea of not doing anything: of, in fact, consciously and deliberately, doing nothing.

It's a problem, because such cultural mindsets too routinely come to equate any form of "doing nothing"—even simply resting, ffs—as a form of failure. You gave up, you stopped fighting back, you surrendered, you're a loser! ...And people stuck in this way of thinking, even if they briefly try relaxing and letting go, tend to abandon it too quickly, well before it has a chance to work. Then they wander off muttering about how relaxation is a waste of time, they just need to work harder, fight more, keep banging their head into that wall until the wall gives...!

(sigh) It's frustrating to watch... and to be caught in. Don't think I don't occasionally stumble over/into this old calcified mindset myself, and have to remind myself to step back, sit still, be quiet and wait. Or to just go do something else, something as non-writing-adjacent as possible, for short periods. (It would profoundly embarrass me to have to admit how many useful realizations I've had while standing over the sink and doing the dishes. It's a lot more congenial when these insights arrive while cooking: but you don't get to pick and choose.) :)

Also: the realization that this solution happened for you while doing something recreational is extremely useful. Because the word can sometimes mean re-creation literally, as a refreshment or restoration of a malfunctioning, injured, worn-down or dog-tired mental or creative state. Which is why we need play... and the older and more "adult" we get, the more we need it. We need, literally, to recreate ourselves.

So just keep doing what you're doing. Or not-doing what you're not-doing. (snicker: this is veering toward the somewhat Zen.) Whatever: keep it up. :)

[a-star-that-burns-brightly]

I've already brought this up in this post, but I absolutely believe Hu ended up telling David what her secret was and why it made her so uncomfortable (presumably because she more than likely has the hopeless child secret)

Hu: I have to be the one to give everyone guidance. That's the only thing I can do. If no one relies on me, then I won't be useful anymore. Hu: You knew how I felt, and yet you... You... Hu: You toyed with my heart!

Like, let's really analyze this dialogue for a second. Why would Hu say that David knew how she felt, why she acts the way she does, unless she told David herself? David is not a mind-reader, he can barely handle the things going on in his own mind. So the only way I can see David knowing about this is if Hu told him herself. Throughout all of Chapter 2, David is constantly pressuring others to tell their secrets. Especially in CH2-6. And that is made especially apparent with how he handles Nico's forced-coming out

David: I know this isn't the ideal time for me to do this, but... David: Nico, do you know what your secret is? Nico: [Sniff] Hu: He's clearly upset. Don't bother him with your questions. David: Part of me thinks that this conflict between Ace and Nico stems from the position of power Ace holds over Nico for keeping his secret. David: If that secret was exposed, then Ace would no longer have that edge over him. David: Nico, can you reveal your secret to everyone? Nico: W-What? Nico: I...I don't want to. David: I know it's difficult to reveal a secret that mortifies you, but aren't all of our secrets going to be revealed in 2 days anyway? I don't think it matters much if you do it now or later. Nico: ... David: Unless you're thinking that the secrets won't be revealed at all? Nico, don't tell me that you-- Nico: Okay, fine!!

David: So then, revealing your secret was a good thing, right? That way, you won't have to be misgendered anymore. Nico: ... Nico: I wasn't ready. David: This is definitely an improvement. It's good for everyone to be open with their secrets.

Nico: Hey I don't think I was in any way shape or form ready to have this part of my identity that I've been ostracized and bullied for for my entire life to not only be outed in front of my classmates but to what is presumably international TV David: K, so anyway :)

He even does this specifically to Hu later in this scene

David: Hu? Hu: I'm sorry, but my secret is something that makes me uncomfortable. David: Even though it will be revealed by MonoTV anyway? Hu: Perhaps it's not an admirable thing to do, but I'd rather put it off for as long as possible. I apologize.

I also have no doubt that David and Hu had some time alone. Teruko left the Relaxation Room, and considering the fact that Nico was planning a murder and also...is reasonably pissed at David

Nico: But David is really suspicious. He's always been really pushy on getting people to reveal their secrets. Nico: And he can do that only because he revealed his own secret first. That way, he doesn't look like a hypocrite. Nico: But if he lied about his secret, then he can just pretend he's in the right. And then other people will follow his lead because it's "good" to share secrets. Nico: And, um, I'm not just saying this because I'm mad at David. Really.

(they say after basically recounting word-for-word what happened to them)

I don't doubt they would've left at some point soon after Teruko given their personality.

Which would leave David and Hu alone to have a conversation about her secret, to which Hu would most likely fall victim to the same pressure Nico did, and reveal what secret she got.

You only took on your talent to distract form your incessant need to harm yourself for fun.

I bring up this frame in particular, by the way, because I find the difference in how she talks about not sharing her secret very interesting. In the Relaxation Room scene, she describes the act of not sharing her secret as "not an admirable thing to do". Here, she straight up calls it "selfish". It's almost as if someone implanted that seed in her brain to pressure her, wonder who that could be.

Along with this, she would also probably explain why she felt so uncomfortable sharing her secret as that was also something David tried pressuring her to explain, which would lead to her talking about her experiences and reasoning for why she is the way she is, which as we have commonly theorized, is most likely in line with the secret Veronika received

You were quite the hopeless child. Dying once wasn't enough, so you attempted suicide three times.

Which David would put together based on the secret appearing on the board. And that's why he taunts her over it.

David: And in spite of how easily you'll spill other secrets for the sake of "peace," you're still too much of a coward to admit your own. Hu: I...that's not what... David: What's wrong, "Julia"? Go ahead and share your secret. It can't be *that* bad, can it? Or is it worse than mine? Worse than Nico's? David: Or could it be that you're actually not as noble and strong of a person as you make yourself out to be?

He is the only person in the room who not only knows what secret Hu received, but knows why she won't say it out loud. He knows her secret and he is hanging it over her fucking head like a carrot. He knows how she feels, and even still, he toyed with her heart.

[do-it-jakey-baby]

An Unlikely Encounter

Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Warnings: smut, drinking, language

18+, MINORS DNI

Ok, here it is. I had so much fun writing the second chapter. I think this storyline has so much potential, I hope you’re all enjoying it as much as I am! 🫶🏻

Chapter 2 3.6k word count

Awoken by the dim morning light, you softly stir until your arm brushes against a warmth sharing the hotel bed. Your eyes snap open and dart over to the figure, your mind swimming.

Oh fucking hell, who is this? Please, please don’t let it be my ex you plead to yourself, wondering how you could be so stupid. You search your mind for any recollection of the night before, but it remains blank. Your frantic energy must have disturbed the figure, as they roll over and tuck an arm around your waist.

“Good morning, beautiful. How did you sleep?”

Ok, that’s definitely not my ex, you thought. That voice… where do I know that voice from?

“Uh… hey?” The voice speaks out again.

The arm tucked around your waist pulls you over so that you are now face to face, and there he was.

“Jake” you breathed with a smile.

Suddenly last night’s antics flooded back into your mind, and you felt your face flush hot.

“I um… I slept good. Thanks” you manage.

He chuckles softly and moves his hand to your face, cradling your blush bitten cheeks.

“Wow… you are just so beautiful” he purrs lightly, his voice filled with adoration for your natural state.

You scrunch your nose and move to hide your face behind the duvet, but he pulls you back closer and places a kiss on your freckle-studded complexion. The gentleness behind his actions make your heart flutter. How can a person who barely knows you be so intuitive to your needs? The way you crave intimacy far beyond sex? More importantly, why did this person have to be a famous rockstar, who without a doubt would have no interest in carrying on whatever this is when he ultimately leaves for his next show.

How could you have been so stupid?

Whilst you laid there, woven between his arms, your mind spiralling with a thousand frenzied thoughts, Jake was none the wiser. He was content in the moment that you both were sharing, watching you silently, observing the small and seemingly insignificant details. The way your hair framed your face perfectly, even after it had been tussled from your slumber. The dimples in your cheeks, the softness of your skin, the way you rubbed your thumb across his back. He fixated on all these little things, subconsciously committing them to core memories. Meanwhile, you had dug yourself into a pit of despair.

You launched yourself from the bed and hastily started getting dressed. Jake propped himself up on his elbows, perplexed to say the least.

“In a rush to get somewhere?”

You stopped in your tracks, frozen by his words as they snapped your attention away from the incessant buzz within your head and brought you tumbling back into reality.

“Uh… yeah. I have to check out by 11. Not sure I want to incur any late fees.” You mumbled, beginning to collect your belongings to pack them away.

Jake had begun to move from his position on the bed to make his way towards you, wearing nothing but his boxer shorts.

“Hey, let me help with that.”

He reached for an item on the floor at the same time as you and your hands touched briefly. You recoiled hastily and snapped your eyes onto his. He looked up at you, his eyebrows knitting together, visibly confused by your reaction.

“Are you ok?”

Before you could stop yourself, the words were coming out.

“No, actually. I am not. What the fuck am I doing? I am not the type of girl who lets random rockstars back to her hotel room. I do not do one night stands, especially not with people who have no interest in seeing me ever again. You probably do this every night with a different girl and I am not letting myself feel the things I am feeling only to end up hurting over another fucking guy!”

The visceral reaction to your words was evident. Jake’s face contorted, every inch of his body tensed, his hands flew up to his face as he rubbed his temples and sighed. His reaction prompted your memory to kick in, replaying his words from the previous evening like a projector cast on a screen.

“I’m sorry. Fuck. I’m sorry… I’d had too much to drink and-” You were panicking now, tears pricking at your eyes. As you felt yourself begin to crumble, his arms wrapped around you.

“Whoa, hey, hey. Steady there.” He guided you to the foot of the bed and sat you down, kneeling before you.

“I wont lie, Y/N, that hurt” he paused, sucking in air steadily through his mouth. “But I can tell you’ve been hurt before, by other guys. I promise you, I don’t do this. Ok, maybe I did when we first started touring and I was an excited, horny kid. But not now, not since... Look, I like you, a lot. I know we only met for the first time yesterday, but you’re the most amazing girl I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. I want to carry on getting to know you.”

“You mean it, you really do?” You sniffed, feeling ridiculous and silently cursing your decision to drink so much last night.

He brought his hand to your face and gently wiped away your tears with the pad of his thumb.

“Yes, who the fuck wouldn’t want to get to know you, angel?”

Utterly enamoured by his words, a crimson haze washed across your cheeks. Your heart fluttered from within your ribcage as you played his words over and over again in your mind, wanting to savour every droplet of the moment.

“So, are you going to be my tour guide today?” He beamed, breaking you from your trance.

“I’d really love to, but I don’t have anywhere to leave my stuff…” you gestured to the mess of your belongings surrounding you.

“Well, we’re staying just around the corner, I’d be happy for you to leave it in my room.”

~

The Uber drive to the hotel was short, you’d insisted on walking as it really wasn’t far at all, but Jake would not take no for an answer. When the cab pulled up outside the entrance, Jake was quick to walk around to your side and open the door for you, extending his hand out for you to take.

“A gentleman.” You giggled.

“I can be at times, love.” He winked, playfully feigning a Cockney accent.

He retrieved your bags and carried them up to his room, setting them down on the floor before sitting at the foot of his bed and looking up at you with a smile dancing on his lips.

“Would you like to meet my brothers?”

Now, suddenly nervous, you shuffled slightly on your feet. He noticed and beckoned you over to sit on his lap.

“I’d love to, I’m just worried they wont like me.”

“They are going to love you, because I do.”

You shot him a look and his eyes widened.

“Oh… no no. I didn’t… uh, I-”

You captured his face in your hands and kissed his lips softly.

“I know what you meant.” You hummed, tapping your finger lightly onto the tip of his nose. He softened and melted into you, capturing you in a kiss that knocked the air out of your lungs. You felt him smile and then his eyes met yours.

“Ok angel, let’s go meet them.”

After you got yourself ready properly, you shuffled out awkwardly into the hallway following closely behind Jake like a lost puppy. He stopped at the door just down from his and rapped his knuckles against the smooth rosewood.

“Coming!” A voice hollered.

The door swung open and there stood Josh, dressed in a cream sweatshirt and sand coloured slacks, beaming brightly. You were hit with an intoxicating scent that wrapped around you like velvet, spicy yet sweet, but warm and inviting. It was a delicious ensnaring of the senses, and you thought to yourself that this fragrance completely personified Josh and his captivating aura.

“Baby brother!” He exclaimed. “And who is this? Ah, you must be the beautiful young lady from our show last night. My dear, you are ethereal.” He took your hand and placed a dainty kiss on the back.

“Baby brother? I was born five minutes after you Josh!” Jake rolled his eyes. “And no making moves on this one, she’s mine.” That familiar feeling crept over you again as your cheeks were set ablaze.

“Hi Josh, it’s so lovely to meet you.” You giggled shyly. Josh moved aside and gestured for you both to come in.

“Please, sit.” He smiled, perching himself on the cream leather sofa and patting the seat next to him. You sat down and Jake took the seat beside you, effectively sandwiching you between the twins.

“This is Y/N, Josh.” Jake hummed eagerly.

“A divine name for a divine being.” Josh winked. “So, what do we owe the pleasure of your presence?” Jake playfully hit his brother and began to answer, but was cut off by the door hurling open and another two men wondering in, bickering with one another.

“I’m just saying, Thor could totally take Superman. Josh, don’t you thi-”

“Sam, we have a guest.” Josh interrupted, motioning to you.

“Oh shit, hey!” Sam exclaimed.

“Hey! Nice to meet you.” Danny chimed in.

“Ohhhh, you’re the girl from the show last night. Niceeee.” Sam shot a look at Jake and raised his eyebrows in approval.

“Ok, will you all shut up!” Jake chuckled, raising his hand and pointing at the three boys who were all sniggering in unison. “This is Y/N.”

“It’s good to meet you both. Great show last night by the way.” You desperately wanted to steer the conversation away from the road it was currently going down, feeling yourself being consumed by embarrassment. “Jake said you guys wanted to explore London today, I’d be happy to show you around.”

“Beautiful, gracious, and thoughtful. Why on earth are you wasting yourself on our dear Jacob?” Josh teased. Jake lunged at Josh and they both grappled each other before submitting into a puddle of laughter on the floor.

“You better get used to that, doll. It’s a constant power struggle.” Danny smirked.

“We’d love for you to join us today, Y/N. Thanks for offering to babysit us.” Sam trilled, sitting down next to you and throwing his arm over your shoulder. “I can see us becoming fast friends.”

~

As you exited the hotel you felt the crisp air slap you in the face. The winter sun was singing against the cerulean sky, illuminating the world with her heavenly beams. You were bundled up in your woolly hat, a chunky oversized scarf, and a long-line, pillowy puffer coat. The boys didn’t seem to be phased by the cold, all significantly less swaddled.

“Are you guys like, immune to the cold or something?” You laughed.

“We grew up in Michigan, honey. We’re used to a lot of snow.” Sam remarked.

“Yeah, it’s permanently Christmas in Frankenmuth.” Danny added.

“So, pretty lady, where are you taking us?” Jake probed, pulling you close to him and wrapping his arm around your waist.

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Surprise us.”

You nodded and lead the way, weaving through streets and partaking in casual conversation as you walked. You halted at a building and made your way in through the doors, feeling the rush of the central heating engulfing you. There was a counter in the corner of the room with a few employees dotted about.

“5 for crazy golf, please.” You addressed to the closest employee to you. She nodded and began ringing you up on the till, then bent down to retrieve 5 putters.

“Awesome! I’m gunna whoop all your asses!” Sam exclaimed excitedly.

“Hey! I’m the best golfer.” Danny bragged.

The employee placed the putters on the counter and looked up at her customers. “Holy SHIT! You’re Greta Van Fleet!” She blurted, mouth agape. “Can I get a picture with you?!”

“Of course! What’s your name, sweetheart?” Josh smiled, showcasing his signature toothy grin.

The employee visibly swooned, seeming to forget her name for a moment. She collected herself and replied “It’s Anna. Oh my god, thank you. I love you!”

“I love you too, Anna. Come on over.” Josh gestured to the group. You started to move out of the way, not wanting to intrude on their moment with a fan.

“Y/N, come here and get in the photo.” Jake called over.

“Are you sure?” You hesitated.

“Yeah of course babe!” The girl insisted.

You found a place next to Jake and he immediately draped his arm over you. A colleague of the girl snapped a few pictures and she excitedly took her phone back, gushing over the photos and proclaiming her gratitude. You all made your way back to the counter and the girl passed over the putters.

“It’s on the house, the least I can do!” She trilled with a gigantic smile.

“Thank you so much, Anna. Such a kind gesture.” Josh said, placing his hand over hers. As you began to walk away and start your game, Anna pulled you to one side.

“You’re so lucky! How do you know them?” She probed.

“I.. uh..” you started, but Jake’s arm looped around yours and he swiftly pulled you away towards the rest of the boys.

“Thanks so much again, Anna. Lovely to meet you.” Jake grinned with a wave.

“Thanks.” You breathed as he whisked you away from the uncomfortable scenario.

~

“How the fuck did you beat me?!” Sam exclaimed, jabbing Danny in the ribs. “I want a rematch!”

The game had been hilarious from start to finish, and it seemed to be just what the boys needed after a hectic few days of back-to-back shows. You’d learned a lot about them over the past 2 hours or so, and they now had a glimpse into the life that you led in the UK. You explored the city further after the game, sight-seeing, taking more photos with eager fans, and countless playful arguments between the 4 lads. You were thoroughly entertained watching them bicker, feeling the brotherly love that blossomed between them. After a lot of adventure, you settled into a pub to grab some long-awaited nourishment, but after you’d fed yourselves you ended up drinking. Now, fully immersed in a game of beer pong, intoxication was taking its hold.

“I really need to catch a train home soon, or I’ll be stuck in London.” You giggled, poking Jake playfully. He grabbed onto your wrist as you went in to jab him again and span you around, stalking you into a corner, away from prying eyes. He backed up against the wall and pulled at your waist so that your ass pressed up against him. You could feel how hard he was as he snaked his arm up across your chest and onto your throat. He jerked your head back, hand still gripped around your neck and lowered his head so that his lips were in line with your ear, softly brushing against your skin.

“Maybe, I don’t want you to.” He whispered, his other hand creeping down from your waist and lowering until his fingers gently caressed your throbbing pussy over your leggings. “Maybe, I want you to come back to my hotel room so I can fuck you until you’re trembling and cumming all over my sheets.”

You let out a strangled moan, and his hand left your heat and flew up to your mouth, muffling the noises you were making. You opened your mouth and let his fingers in, sucking on them to tease him right back, and reached your arm behind your head and to tangle your hand in his chestnut locks. He planted a kiss on your jawline and then released you, sauntering back to his brothers. You stood there for a moment, chest heaving, then quickly composed yourself and followed suit.

“Ha! Drink up, loser!” Sam roared at Danny as he sank his ball into the last cup on the table.

“We’re gunna call it a night.” Jake interjected.

“Ohhhh, I see. You kids have fun!” Sam taunted.

You said your goodbyes and made your way to the door alongside Jake.

“Be safe!” Josh called out with a wink. “See you again soon, Y/N? It’s been a pleasure.

~

You’d barely made it through the door of Jake’s hotel room and he was on you, like a man starved. His mouth finds yours and engulfs you in a passionate kiss, hungrily nibbling your bottom lip and coaxing his tongue inside to meet yours. You moan against him as he pulls you onto the bed and on top of him. You grind up against him vigorously, the friction hitting you in all the right places.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot” he breathes in between sloppy kisses. The electricity in the room is far more intense than the first time, now that you’ve had a taste and tested your limits you want to give him more. You hastily find his belt buckle and begin to undress his lower half. You claw at his zipper and rip his jeans off, delving into his boxers to release his cock from its restraint. It springs out and slaps against his stomach, hard as a fucking rock. You spit on your hand and wrap your fingers around his shaft, running them slowly up and down. His breath quickens with every pump. You meet his eyes and lower yourself so that your mouth is inches away, then lick an agonising stripe from the base up to his helmet, stopping to lap your tongue over the pre-cum forming at his tip. He begins to moan and bucks his hips slightly, so you take him by surprise by hollowing out your cheeks and swallow him into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat.

“Oh, fuck!” He cries, balling his fist into your hair. Your head bobs a few times, and you cradle his balls at the same time.

“Y/N, can I?” He pants, as he begins to slowly move his hips. You look up at him, your eyes signalling the green light. He thrusts into your mouth and fucks your throat hard and fast. You feel your eyes start to water and try hard to fight off the inevitable gags, but as he keeps going you succumb and promptly gag around his length, the reflex constricting and tightening your throat. He whines and pulls you off him by your hair, a long string of spit being the only thing that still connects you. He looks at you with blackened eyes and shoves you onto your back, ripping off your leggings and panties.

“Your turn, Princess.”

He dives in between your legs, his tongue finding a home between your folds. You writhe underneath him as he eats your pussy as if it’s his last meal, savouring every drop. He laps over your clit expertly, teasing a symphony of wails from your lips. He inserts two fingers inside you and pumps in and out, curling them over the sweet spot inside you whilst continuing to suck and lick your sensitive bud. You feel that familiar pressure rising, the same as the night before, perhaps even more intense this time.

“Cum all over my fucking face, sweetheart.” He croons, and then you are. You plunge into absolute ecstasy as you gush over him and the bed sheets, soaking everything in sight. He continues to strum his fingers viciously over your clit like you are his beloved Les Paul as he prolongs your high.

“Oh fuck. Yes, Jake, fuck!!” You scream, not caring who hears, you are completely consumed in pleasure.

You hazily drift down from your high and notice the extent of the mess you’ve made. Jake’s face and hair are completely soaked.

“Fuck, baby. That was amazing.” He coos, drunk from arousal.

“Jake, fuck me. Please, fuck me so hard I can’t walk tomorrow. I need you.” You plead. He pulls his shirt off with urgency and removes yours, palming at your breasts as he lines himself up with your entrance. He thrusts hard and fills you up, and you both moan in unison. It doesn’t take long before your cumming again, then he pulls out and barks for you to turn around. You flip yourself over and get onto your hands and knees, then he plunges inside you again. The new angle that he has you in is hitting all the right spots, as he fucks into you mercilessly. You cry out as he pounds into you, the bed creaking and slamming against the wall with every thrust.

“I’m… fuck. I’m not gunna last much longer, angel. Give me one more.”

He brings his hand around your hips and rubs circles into your clit, and within seconds you’re cumming for the third time.

“Yes, that’s it, baby. Such a good girl for me.”

“Oh fuck, that feels so fucking good, Jakey!” You screech out.

He growls at the pet name, as his hips stutter and you feel his sweet release fill you up. He chants your name like a prayer as your knees collapse underneath you. You stay there like that for a few moments, catching your breath. He gently pulls out of you and you hiss, already tender from his annihilation of you.

“I’m gunna grab a washcloth to clean you up, baby. You stay there, I’ll be right back.” You smile to yourself as he wanders off into the bathroom, and reach down to the side of the bed to retrieve your phone from your bag. It’s the first time you’ve checked it since the night before, and you’re startled by the sheer amount of notifications waiting for you. Your screen lights up as a call comes in, it’s your best friend. You answer and bring the phone up to your ear, feeling guilty that you left her in radio silence for so long.

“Hey, girl. I’m so sorry I-”

“Y/N?! I’ve tried to call you so many times. Have you seen?!”

“Have I seen what?”

“Uhhh.. everything! You’re trending, like everywhere. There’s photos of you with Greta Van Fleet!! Everyone thinks you’re Jake Kiszka’s new girlfriend!”

[baldurs-gape]

Pulling githtails

Sometimes people had very peculiar ways of making friends. If Gale had ever felt like he was not very well equipped in such a skill, watching some of his current tadpole infected companions made him reconsider his own aptitude. Sure, there were some like Karlach who were larger than life, laughed and drew in all those around them. She had an easy time making friends wherever she went. So did Wyll, his earnest determination didn't even have to wear people down, he simply existed in their orbit and people let him in. By contrast, Shadowheart seemed to choose being aloof, something something Sharran teachings about connections leading to nothing but grief. It was fine, that was her choice. Meanwhile Lae'zel seemed to simply not care for forging bonds. She was on a mission and that was all that mattered. Those who could assist were welcome to share her space in order to obtain their goal but that was it. Last but perhaps most fascinating was Astarion. His aloof manner and poorly disguised vampiric nature were made all the more interesting by his incessant need to poke and prod at people.

At first Gale had been irritated. He didn't enjoy Astarion's digs at his abilities, his past with Mystra or even his fashion sense. Yet every one of his rebuffs was met with a laugh and quip rather than Astarion leaving to pester somebody else. Truthfully, Gale had thought Astarion would be more like a cat that needed a subtle approach until he was accustomed to his presence. Instead, he found himself being treated like a cat but by a five year old who tugged at the cat's tail for attention and perhaps even trying to poke at the limits of a boundary. Either way, the end result was that Astarion's snide comments became less about Gale himself and more about life in general. And, actually, Gale found himself rather enjoying Astarion's company once he'd calmed down somewhat. It also afforded him the luxury of watching the same process of making friends take place while comfortable in his own standing.

After a fight where they were all covered in viscera, blood and who knew what else, Astarion gave Lae'zel a long look from head to toe. In another situation it could have been misconstrued as something more but now Astarion just smirked.

"Looks like we've got ourselves a githskanky," he announced and grandiosely pointed towards the river. "Please wash off that stench before I lose my lunch."

Grumbling, Lae'zel stomped past but made sure to flick her braids near him and Astarion got a glob of mushy red on his cheeky. He scowled, nose crinkling and looked at Gale.

"I guess she took double lessons in fighting at the cost of etiquette lessons." As if that would put someone like Astarion off. If anything, he was spurred on as he trotted after Lae'zel. "Wait! Lae'zel!"

She was wading into the river, already half stripped and rinsing the worst off her armour. Head snapping up, she took in the approaching vampire.

"What?"

"I had the sudden concern around your relations with water," Astarion explained. However, his mouth was already pulled into a badly hidden grin, betraying the incoming joke. "You're of the lizardy sort and they're not usually very water oriented in these parts. It would have been a rather unfortunate oversight on my part to not ensure you are safe. After all, I'd hate to be respinsible if our merry little group had to remember you as their githsanky."

A helmetful of water was hurled rather expertly in Astarion's direction, drenching him. But it didn't wash the smile off his face.

Astarion didn't ease up. At dinner he asked Lae'zel about washing up and whether she was their 'dishyanki' which earned him pot washing duties for the rest of the week. No matter how much he complained about not actually using any of the equipment, the whole camp seemed in agreement he needed to atone for his terrible jokes. At least Gale was more than happy to accompany him to the quiet spot with the flat rock that plates could dry on. And maybe the dishes weren't the only thing getting wet, something which Astarion's dick very much approved of (so did Astarion but that wasn't something he was ready to think about yet).

Trading with the woman wanting the githyanki egg was fortuitous. They had all been carrying rather a lot of scavenged wares they had no use for. To be able to offload it all was a relief. Until Astarion spied a ring in the woman's wares. Trying to bargain for it hadn't worked, neither had he managed to pickpocket her much to his frustration. Determined to get the ring, even if it was outside of his means, Astarion did the only thing he could.

"Lae'zel," he said in a singsong voice. "I know you plan on leaving this plane as soon as we're successful in our mission. Having all that gold would only weigh you down, it would be useless to you in the Astral Planes where you'll fight glorious battles."

"Spit it out."

"I don't suppose I could pretty please alleviate you of such a heavy burden?" Astarion paused, fluttering his lashes. At the lack of reply he shrugged. "No? I could make it up to you in other ways." Hearing that made Gale's heart clench. "Just think, I am a dab hand with swords, I could sharpen yours each day for a tenday. Consider it a loan maybe? I'd pay you back whatever you gave. And with interest! What say you? Be my githbanky?"

Lae'zel marched away from him without dignifying a response. Pouting, Astarion tried to play off his disappointment as over the top dramatics. That evening through, he couldn't hold back the surprised little "ooh" as he spotted the much coveted ring on his bedroll. His eyes met Lae'zel's but neither of them said anything.

Any worries Gale had about Lae'zel's intentions towards Astarion were laid to rest that same evening when she rather loudly and in a prolonged manner claimed Shadowheart as her own. Come morning, sat around for a snack of nuts and fruits, Astarion leaned into Shadowheart's personal space.

"So, you played githyanky?" A glare was his answer but he was undeterred. "Guess you must be on best behaviour or you'll get a githspanky."

"I wouldn't let her hear you say all that," Shadowheart replied airly. "She can get quite irate when tired. Let's just say she stayed up very late last night."

"Oh I know. I think we all heard." Not missing a beat, Astarion bumped his shoulder against hers. "We'll blame you for the githcranky."

A blade was under his throat and lifting his chin to turn away from Shadowheart. Lae'zel glared down at him. With zero sense of self-preservation, Astarion let out a giggle.

"Oooh. A githshanky!"

The flat of the blade smacked gently against his pale cheek before it was dropped back down. Lae'zel seemed to feel she'd made her point and turned away, already fully armoured and ready for the day. Her head turned as he looked at Astarion with a crinkle at the corner of her eye as though smiling.

"No. A githpranky."

[foldingfittedsheets]

My dads hobby is writing songs and playing guitar. It’s his special interest. His music isn’t for me, I’m not sure if that’s as a result of hearing incessant guitar noodling when I lived at home or his overall vibe.

He is negative percent good at taking feedback. When told he sounds better not singing falsetto his next several songs were all falsetto. When saying he mumbles his lyrics and sings too fast to actually understand he just disagrees.

He’ll play open mics and stuff and it makes him happy. Generally even though I have no idea what he’s on about I’ll just make vaguely supportive noises and I don’t try to give feedback. If he’s happy, whatever.

Several months ago while grabbing lunch he started telling me about his new song. It’s about a homeless man. I grew wary at once. My parents are vaguely misinformed liberals and I did not like to think what he, a very well off white man, had thrown together on the subject.

He read out the lyrics, verses romanticizing living on the street, with increasingly vulgar descriptions of how smelly and ugly this man was, and a tag line about how he’d give you the shirt off his back because he was so generous.

I started vibrating with emotion but I tried to ask what his message was. What did he actually want to convey about homeless people? He shrugged and said he didn’t have one, that the song was just meant to think about homeless people.

I tried with increasing desperation to steer him in any other course and he just dug his heels in and told me it was good and he wouldn’t change any lyrics. He’d only shared them to get praises and wasn’t interested in adjustment. In a temper I challenged him to go sing that to a homeless person and see what they thought of this bullshit view of their hardships.

It was rough. The lunch ended in brittle silence. He is incapable of dropping subjects and responds with sullen brooding if people refuse to keep arguing.

Since then every get together he insists he needs to play it for me. That hearing the melody will change my mind. I ask if he’s changed the lyrics and he goes into a huge huff.

We all went to see The Boy and the Heron tonight and he griped that I was judging him. I insisted we drop the subject and now I’m wracking my brain to find some way to lay the issue to rest. Changing his mind is almost certainly impossible and I’m not going to lie and say I think it’s good, but I’m sick of this.

[thesixenthusiast]

ruby- eddie roundtree

part four (part one, part two, part three)

pairing: eddie rountree x fem!oc (may change to x reader) warnings: drinking/drugs (billy/daisy's addictions), profanity word count: 1.1k author's note: please bear with me in this, if there's a few time mix ups just with the order of things, please do let me know but i'm trying to find an equal balance between the book and show and it's a little difficult lol this is also a wee bit shorter than the other parts, my apologies, that issue will be fixed in the next part lol

Juliet pushed open the heavy metal doors of the fire escape staircase, there was a group of people waiting for the elevator, and based on the rich smell of weed that made the a around them thick, along with the incessant giggling, she had decided that an elevator ride with them wouldn’t be the most enjoyable of experiences, so she resorted to the stairs. 

Once she had made it up to Eddie’s floor, she stepped into the hallway, peering at the closest room number to get some sense of where she had ended up in comparison to his room. She swung her arm around the corner of one of the walls, turning left into a dead end, where Eddie’s hotel room door stood, undisturbed. 

“Hey,” she smiled, pulling open the door to see him lying down, half on the bed and staring up at the ceiling, “Damn, you good? Need me to call someone? I’m sure Billy would be happy to trek on up here and save your ass, it could give him the ego boost he so desperately needs.”

She slid down next to him on the bed, her legs hanging down onto the floor, and leaned back to line her body up with his. He turned to face his head to her and leaned against her, his head resting on her chest. 

“I don’t know,” he sighed, “But don’t you dare bring him up here,” his laugh was firm and she could tell he wasn’t kidding.

“What did he do this time?” She brought her left hand up, tangling her fingers into his hair and running them through it as he spoke. 

“He recorded a ton of my playing on the album,” she halted her movements in shock, “he told me after the show tonight, wanted to rub it in, I don’t really know.” 

He shook his head and then pulled himself up to lean against the headboard, pulling her up with him and resting her head against his shoulder. She apologized, sharing her distaste for Billy at the moment before the two fell into a comfortable silence.

“You played really well tonight, sometimes when you play you make me wish I spent more time getting Billy to like me, maybe I could’ve taken your job.” He exhaled a small laugh.

“If any of our interactions over the past couple of years signify anything, I’d say that my spot in the band is about as permanent as any of those groupies’ downstairs relationships, so please don’t go trying to steal my place because I can guarantee you will be successful.” She giggled, the light buzz from the few drinks she had downstairs starting to kick in. 

“You’ll never believe the dickhead I met tonight,” she started, “He practically admitted he had no interest in the band before tonight then asked for my number.” He laughed and put his arm around her, pulling her closer to his side.

“Oh, yeah? Clearly, someone never taught that guy proper concert etiquette,” she nearly snorted his response.

“I missed you tonight,” she mumbled, “I didn’t have anyone to play boyfriend when guys started getting creepy.”

“Hm, is that all I’m good for? Playing boyfriend?”

“Mhm, I’m glad you get it,” she turned her head into his chest and sighed against him. 

“Why’d you leave early? That’s unlike you.”

“Well it was getting late, all the remotely interesting new people started leaving and the only remotely interesting old person I knew was up here rotting in his hotel room,” she propped herself up again, “Warren had me freaked that you brought someone up here with you, thought I was gonna walk into another Billy situation. Seeing one of my bandmates getting blown is something I can deal with, but if I see another I might just have to quit the band.” 

“Would that be a bad thing?”

“Would what be a bad thing?” She asked, turning to look at him. 

“If I had brought a girl up here with me,” he avoided looking her in the eye, “Would you, would you not like that?”

Juliet could feel her heartbeat start to quicken, a knot in her stomach forming as she thought of any way to play off her response as a joke. She was broken out of her daze by Eddie sighing and pulling the crook of her neck against his head.

“Don’t leave me hanging like that, Julie. Please,” his voice was quiet. 

“What do you want me to say?” She looked down at her lap, avoiding him.

“Anything. Say yes, say no. Tell me to go fuck myself, tell me you hate me, tell me you don’t.”

She contemplated for a minute, swallowing the lump of words that was dying to be let out of her throat. She took a sigh, closing her eyes before turning to face him. His head was angled towards her, but his eyes looked anywhere but her face. She licked her lips, lifted her body with her arms pressed against the mattress, and angled her body towards his. She lifted her right hand from the bed, placing it against the side of his face, gaining his attention one last time. 

“Yes,” she mumbled, leaning in and pulling his face towards her own, finally meeting their lips together.

His reaction was instinctive, immediately leaning towards her, climbing on top of her, and pulling her off of the headboard. His hands went to both sides of her face, pulling her closer as he took her onto his lap. Her hands tangled around his neck, her fingers played with the ends of his hair, and she wrapped her legs around him as he continued to kiss her. 

After a few moments, he pulled away, panting for breath. He leaned his forehead against hers and licked his lips as he caught his breath. His hands tangled around her waist, moving down to hold her hips.

Ignoring her better judgment, she looked up at him and made direct eye contact, admiring his brown eyes. She was the first one to break the silence.

“Yes,” she repeated, “It would’ve been a bad thing.”

A smile overtook his lips as he leaned down to kiss her neck, trailing up to her jaw.

“I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t then, hm?”

[adorkablenerd]

A Star's Laughter

AAAAAH I HAVE BEEN SO OBSSESED WITH THIS MAN AND I NEEDED TO WRITE SMTH FOR HIM!! I really hope I did him justice and that y'all enjoy this fic :) This is just some Astarion fluff cus I want him to be happy so bad

This is a tickle fic! Also there shouldn't be any major spoilers here, just some tiny things that hint as stuff that happens in the 1st act, but nothing that out right spoilers stuff!

Ship: Astarion x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Words: 2,373

Some may call it stupid to annoy a vampire, but you had done plenty of other things people would call stupid and survived, so surely this would be fine.  You couldn’t help it when said vampire was so cocky and fun to mess with.  

“Love?”  Astarion turned his gaze from the book he was reading to look at you the best he could with your head resting on his shoulder.  

“Yes, my star?”  You could see a hint of his real smile come out at the pet name, but he quickly hid it, opting instead for an obviously fake glare.  

“Normally I would love your never ending attention, however I would really like to read in peace.”  You both knew he was lying.  He had been reading the same book all morning just to get a rise out of you, claiming to be busy every time you tried to drag him out of your shared bed.  

“I think you’ve spent enough time with that book today, you’ve barely even made any progress with it!”  You moved your head off of him, giving him an offended look.  You weren’t wrong, despite it being in his hand for the past hour, he had only gotten a couple pages further from where he started.  

“Well, perhaps I’d have gotten more read if someone wasn’t so incessant on bothering me.”  He didn’t even move his head to look at you this time, but you could tell he was smiling.  It was a game to see who was more stubborn, and you were determined to win.

“Are you sure you’d like to continue reading rather than paying attention to me?”  You used your sweetest voice and best puppy dog eyes, but he still wouldn’t look.

“I’m sure darling, this part is quite good, I think I'll be reading all day with how captivating the story is.”  Well, if that’s how he wanted it, you didn’t mind being more convincing.  From your spot behind him, you brought both of your hands to his sides, beginning to lightly trace around the area over the white night shirt he was still wearing.  You felt his body jolt at the initial touch, but he held back his laughter.

“If it’s so interesting I would love to know more.  Why don’t you tell me a bit about it?”  You’re touch traveled higher, still just barely grazing his ribs, yet you could see how he struggled to stay still.

“I-I don’t think you’d care for this one, dear.”  One of his hands moved to cover his ever growing smile, while the other kept the book open.  

“I believe that should be for me to decide on my own.  If not a summary, perhaps you could read it aloud for a bit.  Surely that’s not too much to ask for?”  Your hands moved again, this time to his back, nails lightly scratching up and down it.  He jumped slightly, and his body leaned forward, away from the touch for just a moment, but leaned back towards you when he felt the touch leave him.  You had always tried to be careful when it came to touching his back, never wanting to make him uncomfortable, but he never seemed to mind when it came to you.  You could tell he was close to breaking, his body trembling trying to hold everything in.  He couldn’t even respond, knowing that if he did he wouldn’t be able to contain the laughter that was threatening to spill out.  He instead turned the page of the book and tried to block out the sensations that were taking over his mind.

“Still not enough? Fine then, I suppose I’ll have to try something else.”  The feeling was quickly torn away from him as you brought your arms back towards you.  Despite initial relief he felt, it was quickly replaced with another feeling, one he could only describe as disappointment.  It confused him for a moment, did he truly like it?  Was it the gentle touch?  The feeling of wanting to laugh freely that came so rarely?  Or was it because it was you?  He didn’t have much time to contemplate these questions, as he was quickly brought out of his thoughts by your fingers finding their way under his arms.

“SHIHIT! Youhu cheheheater!”  Caught off guard, he dropped the book and broke into loud cackles.  His arms had gone down on instinct, trapping your hands where they were, making it even easier to target the area.  You still kept your touch lighter, but it was enough to keep him giggling as you swirled the tips of your pointer fingers in both hollows.

“Ah, are you done reading now?  How wonderful, I just knew you’d come around.”  You put your head on his shoulder again so you could see his expression better.  From the new angle, you could see his laugh lines and realized how his fangs were always more noticeable when he was laughing.  He had never looked more beautiful.  You smiled at the sight, then lightly blew a small puff of air into his ear.

“EEhehe, I aham nohot dohohone!  Nohow thahat I’ve lohohost my pahage, I mahay have to stahart from thehe beginihihing!”  He was instigating you even further, not wanting you to stop again, not for a bit at least.

“My apologies love, by all means continue reading your book.  It’s still in front of you, all you need to do is pick it up and open it.”  You stilled your fingers for a moment, giving him the chance to reach out for it, while still keeping your hands in the same spot.  He waited a moment, aware it was a trick, then quickly reached out anyways.  As soon as his arms raised to grab it, you softly pinched at his top ribs, making them slam back down again before he could get to the book.

“Thihis ihisn’t faihihir and yohou knohohow ihit!”  He complained through his giggles, body beginning to lean back into you as he lost the energy to keep himself upright.

“My beloved, we both know neither of us play fair.  Now, are you ready to give up on the book?”  You continued playing with his ribs as he went even more limp in your arms.  It didn’t take you very long to catch on to the fact that he didn’t mind this.  He wasn’t trying to get away or stop you in the slightest, and you could see the genuine happiness in his smile that he tried so often to hide.

“N-Neheheveher.”  He shook his head at you from its place on your chest.  You couldn’t but laugh a bit yourself at how cute he could be at times.  Hearing your laughter, a slight blush decorated his cheeks and the tips of his ears.  He moved to face the opposite side as you, trying to hide his embarrassment.  

“Well, that won’t do at all.”  You removed your hands from under his arms with ease and moved to the side, making him fall flat onto the bed.  By the time he had processed that the tickling had stopped again and that you had moved from behind him, you were already on top of him, sitting on his upper thighs.  You grinned down at him, hands curled into claws right above his tummy, ready to strike.  

“Mhm, I think this is the best angle by far~”  No matter which way he turned his head you’d be able to see his bright smile, something the vampire was less than thrilled by.  He seemed torn trying to decide what to do with his hands, stuck between wanting to cover his face or cover his waist, over which your hands hovered, but didn’t yet touch.  He settled on grabbing a pillow from behind him and holding it to his face, trying to hide his reactions from you.

“Still a good angle darling?”  Though the words were slightly muffled, you could make them out just fine.  Even when flustered he still managed to snark back at you.  

“I’m still enjoying the view, though I admit, I’m a bit disappointed I can't see your beautiful face.”  You placed your hands onto his sides and kept them frozen there.

“I-I’m sure, it’s truly a shame, isn’t it?  Perhaps if you had just let me read you could have just admired mEHEE-”  Whatever he was about to say next was cut off by you squeezing up and down his sides.  His arms shook, but held the pillow to his face, though it didn’t do much to quiet his fit of giggles.

“I suppose I’ll just have to admire your gorgeous laughter instead.  That is, unless you’d like to stop hiding from me and admit you love me more than that book.”  Though you were sure he was enjoying himself, you wanted to make sure you weren’t going too far by giving him an easy out.  One he chose not to take.  Hearing your words, he pressed the pillow even more into him, trying to dampen the noises coming from him and to make sure you couldn't see him.

“Nohohot hahapehenihing!”  You could still make out the words he was saying and couldn’t help but laugh again at his stubbornness.  You faked a gasp, though you weren’t sure if he even heard it over himself.  

“My love, you wound me so!  If that’s how you truly feel then so be it.  I’ll just have to prove that I’m far more worthy of your love.”  His laughter rose as you spoke, both at your overdramatics and from your fingers making their way under his shirt to light scratch around his tummy.

“Ihi hohope you knohow Ihihi’m gohoing toho gehehet you fohor thihis.”  It was a bit hard to feel threatened by someone who had their face shoved into a pillow giggling adorably.

“And how are you gonna do that with your hands so preoccupied?  Not to mention you’re much more sensitive than me dear, it might be a bit difficult to get your revenge while you're busy trying to defend yourself.”  You may have been lying a bit, but he didn’t need to know that.  You moved your hands again, this time going down to his hips and tracing around the tops of them.  You almost fell off of the other when his body quickly bucked up at the first touch to the new area, and you could've sworn you heard what sounded like a squeal come from him.  You quickly readjusted yourself and noticed that his arms had slightly come down, his grip on the pillow loosening as well. 

“Oh, what’s this?  Did I find a good spot?”  You picked right back up where you left off and went back to tracing all around his hips with your nails.  This time you had braced yourself in case he reacted so strongly again, but were unprepared for a pillow to hit you directly in the face.

“Oohops, my hand slipped.”  Now that the pillow was no longer shielding his face from your view you could see the pink that filled it, the color traveling up his ears as well.  You could barely pretend to be mad, too amused by the whole situation.  You picked up the pillow that hit you and tossed it off to the side so it wasn’t in the way.  You put your hands around his hips and smirked down at him.

“Oh you are so dead.”  Astarion didn’t even have the chance to respond before he broke into shrieks of laughter, his hands moving to grip your wrists, but not trying to push them away.  The way his laugh sounded when this new area was targeted was the best by far.  Though all his laughs were beautiful, this one was full of squeaks and even a few snorts, and it was heavenly.   It wasn’t until a few minutes later that he surrendered through his hysterics, face now a brighter red.  

“Ohokahay, okahahahay!  Ihi lohohove yohou mohohore thahan thehe bohohohook!”  You took this as your sign to stop, and so you moved your hands away, proudly smiling down at him.  

“See, that wasn’t so hard, right love?”  He tried to glare at you, but the smile stuck on his face took away any malice it could have held.  

“Of course you’d say it wasn’t hard, you weren’t the one being tortured.”  Despite his words and best efforts, you could still see the smile he was trying to hide with a pout.

“Ah yes, a truly horrible experience, I assume.  Though, not once did you actually tell me to stop, you know?”  He refused to meet your eyes, choosing to look anywhere else in the room.

‘Yes, well, the thought must have slipped my mind.”  His hands intertwined with yours, still seeking the warm comfort of them.

“Mhm, I’m sure it did.”  You leaned your head down towards him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.  

“One thing hasn’t slipped my mind though darling.”  He returned your gaze, giving you a peck on the lips.

“And what would that be?”  His head moved closer to your ear, whispering one quick word into it.  

“Revenge.”  Seizing the opportunity, he quickly flipped your positions, him on top of your waist, pinning your arms above your head.  The amount of energy he still had surprised you, and the quick movements caught you off guard.  

“You didn’t really think you’d be getting away with that, did you?”  He smirked down at you.  Your mind went back to the promise he made about revenge.  You knew that he would most likely stay true to his word, but you didn’t expect that it would be so soon.

“I don’t regret a thing.” You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself a bit as you spoke.  Though the redness that coated his face had mostly dissipated, you could still see a bit of the pink on the tips of his ears.  

“We’ll see about that~”  He moved both of your hands to only one of his easily, not that you tried very hard, or at all, to stop him.  You certainly had his attention now, and it would be a while before either of you thought about that book again.  

[as-amemory]

I Could Drive You Crazy

Pairing: Éomer x OFC (unnamed)

Summary: She drove him crazy, with her little mannerism specifically crafted to irritate him, to get a rise out of him, for it was then, in that sweet spot before he starts to boil, before his true ire took over, that they find themselves in the heated throws of passion.

Warnings: NSFW, explicit, racism against Dunlendings (if thats a thing? I don't know, I'm new here), unhealthy relationships.

Word Count: less than 2k.

Setting: Aldburg, Rohan - some years before the War of the Ring.

Notes: This is the result of me ovulating and having no outlet as well as a song-bug stuck in my ear: I Could Drive You Crazy by Sierra Ferrell. Basically its a song about being crazy and I thought that might make for an interesting character to pair Éomer with, since apparently I enjoy watching him suffer. I'm not yet ready to name this OFC. I kind of hate her but I want to play with her a few more times and see what mischief she can get up to first before I decide if she needs a permanent residence.

I'm probably going to the small section of hell they specifically reserve for the sickos who deface Tolkien's works with such vulgarity. Enjoy!

Hay Fever threatened to take him fully yet she barged through the door as if he hadn’t complained to her that morning of an oncoming headache. She loved to do that. Ignore his every word and then act surprised when he was upset with her for having to repeat himself. Rare did he share his feelings with others, rarer still that he was forced to repeat himself. Not as Third Marshal of the Mark, Lord of Aldburg. People listened when he spoke. She did not. 

“Feed your dogs, Éomer,” she says, voice full of spite. He hated when she called him by his name so casually. He never particularly cared for the triviality of titles. It matters not to him how he is referred to, as long as he first gave leave to call him by his given name, yet she takes the privilege without even bothering to ask permission.

She eyes the hound dogs sprawled at his feet with contempt. She did not like that he allows the dogs to reside inside the confines of his home. They belong in a kennel, outside. “They look as though they will devour me.” 

This was his home. It would do her well to get used to seeing them laying on the floor. He sits back in his seat appraising her, the judgment seeped deep in her dark eyes. She is of mixed ancestry, there is no doubt of that by looking at her. Carrying enough blood of the Dunlendings to mark her differently. A mark of his resentment towards her. Resentment that blossomed into hate, the sweet fuel to their more rousing escapades. 

“I should let them.” The threat comes out harsher than he intends, the start of a cold restricting any tenderness from escaping his throat. 

Tossing two halves of an uneaten pheasant on the ground the dogs swallow it whole in one bite. He had taken his supper in his room that evening, not in the mood to dally with the residents of Aldburg. Typically the seasonal Hay Fever did not affect him but the heavy spring rains had caused an influx of new weeds to run wild in the fields causing him to feel less than ideal. Currently a pain bloomed behind his eyes and at the base of his throat, leaving him in no state to make friendly conversation. Yet here she is, when he had specifically ordered the Doorward not to let anyone into his rooms. 

She could drive him to insanity with her blatant disrespect of him. He did not know why he kept her around. They had nothing in common and his list of grievances against her was long in number, dating back almost a year prior, growing longer still.

Showing up late to a personal invitation to go riding, acting as though they had never agreed to a time and certainly not a place of meeting. She had once offered to cook him supper to which he almost choked on the bones swimming in the stew. Had ruined a hunting trip, scaring away all the animals with her incessant humming. A tune which was stuck in his head for almost a fortnight. There was no fishing to be had with her, requiring more patience than whatever little she possessed. Yet time, and time again, him found himself tangled in sheets of his bed with her, or roughly pressed against the edge of his desk in the solar, partial to the idea of being caught, or in the hayloft above the stables, straining so deliciously tight around him as she rode - 

He teeth grind at the sight of her, fluttering about his room, touching this and that, moving it slightly away from its original spot as she talks about her day. 

“I found a lovely bolt of cloth that would make a fine dress.” She has picked up the crystal paperweight from his desk, peering at it as if she is speaking to the paperweight and not him. 

So it was money she wanted? He should have known better than to think she was checking on his well being. He lifts his chin, waiting for her to meet his eye. She would have to ask him directly if she desired any coin from him but she continues to pick up random items just to set them down again, completely ignoring him. 

“Come here.” His patience has grown thin. He will not ask her twice yet she looks at him as if he should be the one crawling on his knees to be near her. As if he should hand over his purse just to be allowed the honor of being in the same room as her. 

When he does not concede to her silent petition she nods her head in appreciation to his stubbornness. A sly smile curls on her lips as she approaches him, already lifting her dress to better seat herself on his lap. 

“I don’t know what I ever liked about you,” he says gruffly as she straddles him. Pushing aside her skirts he unties the laces of his trousers. He would have his due of her before this Hay Fever set in fully. 

She laughs mockingly at that. “You love me.” 

“I don’t think I do.” He nips at her lips and she smiles ruefully. Skirt pulled around her waist he is able to easily palm the wet folds of her labia. “You seem to like me,” he draws out, pushing the heel of his palm into her sensitive nub, eliciting a delicate gasp from between pink parted lips. He takes the opening to kiss her fully when she otherwise does not particularly enjoy the intimacy of a long drawn out kiss. She surprises him by matching the energy, eagerly molding her lips against his. Rutting down on his hand and along his ever hardening cock causes a gasp of his own to escape his mouth and into hers. His eyes closed briefly at the contact. They had last laid together only that morning. Was he so fallible to her that he could not even keep from gasping out like an inexperienced adolescent? 

She bites down on his lower lip. Hard, drawing blood. He hisses his resentment through clenched teeth, digging his fingers into her side. He hated when she did that. This she knows. She remembers that particular detail about him, yet could not remember the name of his first horse or his favorite fishing spot. More than anything she loved to know what he hated.

She is trying to get a rise out of him. Make his boil, just a little. The sex was always better for it. 

“Minx,” he growls against her mouth. Taking hold of his cock he spreads the juices of her pleasure along the length, lining himself up with her entrance. Greedily he flicks his hips up into her without warning. She laments her pleasure, loud for all to hear. The Doorward, no doubt, will not be expecting reprimand from him, not when he can so clearly hear the results of his mistake. 

Wiggling against him she tries vainly to adjust to the size difference but he holds her in place, fingers digging into her sides. He wishes that he wasn’t so incorrigible. That he wasn’t so tempted by her teasing. That he could withhold himself from acting out so rashly. Maybe like that of his older cousin, whose poise and sense of propriety had always come with ease. Yet he falls for her time and time again, fucking her exactly as she enjoys. As he enjoys. 

Letting his eyes linger on her undulating body he sets his jaw to keep from baring his teeth at the pressure of her rolling hips. If only she rode horses as good as she did him then she might be worth her weight in the saddle. Yet for all her withering she is shit astride a horse. It was that cursed Dunlending blood, tainting her ability to be anything but subpar.

A whimper escapes her lips, and he smiles cruelly, at least she suffers, same as him. She rides him slow, a painful pace that leaves him groaning. His only respite from her torture is his thumb circling her clit. She might know everything he hated but he knew exactly what her body loved. Specifically how to milk an orgasm out of her that would leave her seeing stars. It starts slow. Small circles to bring her to attention, and then an increase of pressure as blood engorges to the area. Her breathing hitches in her throat. Like the cat that caught the canary, he smiles at the sight of her. A harsh thrust of his hips, he fills her fully causing her pace to falter. The careful placement of his thumb halts, watching the confused look cross her features as her incoming orgasm slips out from under her. 

His name is a growl on her lips, a slight warning. “Éomer.” 

That he could take his name from her lips. 

She knows the game he plays, the same one she taught him all those years ago. His thumb picks up pace with her rolling hips. He cradles her neck with his free hand. Skin hot, beneath his touch. A sheen of sweat is building along her hairline. He traces the curve of her collarbone and down her chest, across to her nipples, hard beneath her bodice. She is almost as sensitive here as she is between her legs, her hands clench around his shirt trying to hide her rising ecstasy. His nostrils flare, eyes trapped on the expanse of her face, carefully watching for each small indication of her pleasure. 

Turning her head she tries to hide from him but he quickly has her jaw clasped between his fingers. He would see her. Shaking her head she waves off his touch, attempting to cover her eyes behind her hand, like a child hiding in plain sight. He clicks his tongue, taking her hand in his and after some struggling binds them both in his clasp behind her back.  

“Go on then.” He flicks his chin in her direction. Her pace has all but stopped, hesitantly she finds it again, knowing full well that he now possesses all the power. The power to dish out pleasure as he saw fit.  

Yet her rolling hips are more powerful, more exaggerated than before, causing him to grimace, lest he call out her name. She would love that, revel in his undoing. He steels himself with a deep breath through his nose. A ragged breath from her lets him know she is close again. He slows his thumb, wondering if she’ll cry out, plead with him to give her what she wants. 

“Éomer.” His name, like a prayer on her lips, is soft and sweet, and he knows he no longer possesses the control he once touted. 

Letting free her hands, he pulls her in close until her head rests against his. He can feel the warmth of her breath as he takes his pace, thrusting into her. She has brushed away his teasing thumb, replacing it with her own skilled fingers. A shuddering breath and she tightens further around the length of him. She cries out loud enough that he is certain they hear her in the Great Hall. He is still thrusting into her as she convulses hot and heady around him but he soon follows suit, letting his release run him fully with a loud groan of his own. 

Panting, she rests her head against his chest, forehead sticky with sweat it clings to the thin fabric of his shirt. She does not cuddle. She never has lingered in his arms as they slowly drift down from their high. She slips off his lap and he shutters at the sudden loss of contact, hands gripping the armrests of the chair. 

By the time he has regained his senses enough to stand she has relieved herself and wiped clean his seed dripping down her thighs. Maybe a good romp was the cure to any oncoming ailment. He drowns the last of his ale, eyeing her as she smiles prettily for him under dark thick lashes. So demure and pliant, when only moments earlier he was ready to have her thrown from his room for her uncouth behavior.

“You spoil me, my lord,” she says coyly. He bites back a scoff. 

Her gaze is taken with the leather purse heavy on the corner of his desk. A slight nod of his head and she promptly reaches across the expanse, showing off the long lines of her body, and that of the soft curves she knows he loves to grab hold of during their coupling. Deftly, her fingers dip inside the pouch, taking out three coins. 

“This should cover the cost.” Her gaze darts to him, searching for any subtle hint of permission that she could take more but he is hard set against giving her indication. Already she pushes the bounds of his generosity. 

“And one more,” she purrs softly, plucking a fourth coin out. “As insurance to return to you.” 

He rolls his eyes, knowing well she will only return when she pleases not because she feels indebted to him. Offering a low curtsey, she mumbles her thanks, letting his gaze linger on her, on the low cut of her dress. Her bosom all but swells out of the strains of her bodice. When did such a salacious style come into fashion? Surely his sister did not expose herself so scantily in Edoras? He bites his lip, thoughts of his sister quickly pushed from his mind replaced instead by the women so humbly lowered before him. Already he feels a slight twitch of his groin. 

She rises, satisfied with her display of deference. A Haunting smile on her lips, she glances at the hound dogs splayed out on the rug. 

“Feed your dogs, Éomer,” she instructs as a final goodbye. Out the door he is certain she can hear his mocking laughter following her.  

[niki-phoria]

pairing: sunghoon x gn!reader genre: fluff word count: 797

a/n: this was supposed to be a short drabble about stealing hoon's hoodie lmao and this was created because i read a hoon hurt comfort and it hurt my feelings /hj

in hindsight, maybe leaving your jacket at home was a bad idea. you can almost hear sunghoon's voice in your head, lecturing you about how he told you to bring one. you debate telling him that the admittedly light breeze feels like it's hitting your bones but you choose your pride instead and continue to brave the night despite your incessant shivering. 

the carnival is winding down, most families leaving after the sun begins to set. the lights shine brighter in the darkness, creating a beautiful atmosphere. you walk through the different games and food vendors before finally deciding to ride the ferris wheel. it's the only attraction they have set up and you paid to get in, so you might as well get your money's worth.

you make your way back over to where you last saw sunghoon, sitting at a table with a cup of soda and teasing the boy's for being bad at the rigged games. "hoon, will you ride the ferris wheel with me?"

"that's a little cliché," he teases, but stands up to follow you anyways. you grab his hand as he leads you over to a trash can to throw the drink out before following you to the ride. "is the line long?"

"no, i think most people have already gone." sunghoon hums, pulling you closer. 

you stand in line for a few minutes before you're called to go next. the metal seat is cold and uncomfortable despite being ridden countless times. it moves slowly as it brings you to the top, pausing so everyone can have a turn looking out at the view. 

when it stops for your turn, you have to admit that it is as pretty as they say. the sparkling lights create a rainbow of color across the parking lot. above you, a few stars begin to shine through.

"wow," sunghoon murmurs next to you. 

"it's nice up here." sunghoon reaches out, grabbing your chin and turning you to face him. he stares into your eyes for a couple seconds as he leans closer.

"you're cold," he whispers. he shrugs his jacket off before you can stop him, laying it over your shoulders. 

"thank you." sunghoon wraps an arm around your waist, pulling your body into his. he presses a kiss to the top of your head as the ride begins to descend. 

sunghoon grabs your hand again as you exit the ride. silently, he pulls out his phone and sends a few texts. 

"they're letting me stay over at your place tonight, if that's okay with you." 

"of course it is."

"do you want to leave now or have you already seen everything?"

"we should get home. i need to feed salem." sunghoon nods, letting you guide him to where you parked your car. 

the drive home feels faster than usual. then again, everything with sunghoon feels faster than usual. like you're so focused on the boy beside you that you forget about your project due tomorrow or that test that you need to study for. 

salem greets you with his usual meows, eager for his dinner. sunghoon kneels down to pet him a few times as you prepare his food. 

"i can take the couch if you want."

"no, it's okay. you're a dancer, i don't want you to hurt your back."

"y/n, it's your apartment, i'm not letting you sleep on the couch."

"we can share the bed." you almost miss the way sunghoon's face flushes for a few seconds before he nods. "you can change in the bathroom, i'll go after you." he nods, grabbing his bag and making his way into your bathroom. 

you decide to do your skincare routines together, though the single sink makes it a little more cramped than you're used to. once you're fully prepared for bed, you lay down opposite to sunghoon. the drama you put on an hour ago serves as background noise as you find yourself much more interested in the boy next to you. he shifts so he's facing you, smirking. "like what you see?"

"maybe i do." your words shock both of you for a few seconds before sunghoon laughs. you find yourself almost entranced by him as he moves closer to you. his hand cups your haw, thumb gently stroking against your cheek.

"y/n," he whispers. "can i kiss you?"

it feels like the world stops in that moment. your eyes fall from his to his lips. you've thought about kissing him before but you never thought it would actually happen. you choose not to verbally answer, instead leaning in and pressing your lips against his. when you pull away, sunghoon smiles. his hand still rests on your cheek as you shift closer to him. "be mine?"

"i'm already yours."

[mikithelibrarian]

It Takes Two | Chapter Three - BLACKPINK Jennie - GN! Reader

TW: Mentions of drinking and smoking

Previous part

To say that you were sad was an understatement…

You were frustrated, disappointed and overall let down at your girlfriend’s decision to not accompany you anymore. Not just because now you had to lie to your viewers and come up with a reasonable excuse, but also because, for as long as you’ve been dating, this has been your only request.

You think that what you are feeling is selfish, but was it too much to ask? For her to try to enjoy it just a little bit? Apparently yes, it was too much to ask.

Who were you kidding? This was not her lifestyle, she was more of an extroverted person, she enjoyed going out with her friends, partying with them or just going to a coffee shop, while you, you liked videogames.

So, here you were, just ending stream, looking up to the roof of your studio still sat at your desk, with a juice box in your hand. You were afraid of going into your cellphone and opening social media as you sometimes did after finishing your job. What if your lie wasn’t believable enough? What if people start hating on her?

Just then, your phone started to ring from a corner of your desk. You immediately went to grab it, wanting to return to the calm silence you had.

“Hello?” You said questioningly since you didn’t even bother to look at the caller id.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jisoo’s voice came from the other side of the line.

When Jennie introduced you to the girls, you didn’t expect that in between them you’d find a new best friend in the form of Jisoo. With similar interests, you instantly clicked and began talking more and more, to the point that Jisoo had you in the same esteem in which she held the girls. She knew you and trusted you, the same way you did with her, so you told her what happened, since the beginning.

How excited you were, how happy you were sharing this part of her life with your girlfriend and how that fantasy immediately came crashing down after her words last night. You just vented out to her, like every other time.

“You really need to tell her how you feel” She would always say and this was time was not the exception. Jisoo hated how you hid your feelings from Jennie just because you didn’t want to bother her. You think you don’t deserve Jennie, that an idol dating a streamer was a miracle hanging up on the tiniest of threads, you didn’t want to lose her.

Jisoo however, felt differently, she sometimes thought that it was Jennie who didn’t deserve you, all the while she thought you were kind of stupid. It was a situation in which both of her best friends were in the wrong, but that if she tried to fix it herself, things would result in even worse consequences.

So, after saying your goodbyes to each other and her looking at the lost calls she received while she was playing her game with your stream on the background, she got up to the main door of her home at the incessant ringing that disturbed her.

And there she was, on the other side of the door, someone she just didn’t want to see in this moment, accompanied by other two members of her group.

“Why weren’t you picking up?” Jennie asked with a smile as she made her way into the apartment while the other two followed her, the three of them carrying bags of snacks.

“We wanted to ask you which kind of snack you wanted for this improvised girl’s night” Roseanne said while they left the bags on Jisoo’s living room while the latter closed the door and stared at the three of them.

“It was my idea! It’s been so long since we’ve enjoyed one!” Lisa exclaimed and got comfortable, as the other two were doing.

“But apparently, you aren’t all up for it” Jennie pointed out at Jisoo’s lack of excitement or emotion.

What to do? What to do?

Jisoo debated while she looked at her group members in her living room. She was itching to have a serious talk with Jennie, but she didn’t want to get Lisa or Rosé involved. She could play it safe and bite her tongue or…

“I just got off the phone with (Y/N), they looked off while on stream, did something happen?” She could play it in a way that Jennie admits what she’s done, all the while she could actually look what the second oldest thought of it.

“Oh” Jennie just muttered, while Lisa and Rosé looked at her. “I told them that I didn’t enjoy streaming with them”

“Did (Y/N) actually get sad because of it?” Lisa questioned while Roseanne looked a little bit let down.

“But you looked so cute together!” Rosé exclaimed.

“I know, but I just didn’t like streaming, I didn’t actually expect (Y/N) to be that sad because of it, I’m sure they have more plans on what to do on their streams without me” Jennie answered while scratching her arm.

“Of course (Y/N)’s gonna be sad, this was an opportunity for them to share what they loved with you, and you just said you didn’t like it” Jisoo started to scold Jennie, surprising the three members. “You do know how much (Y/N) has done for you, right? When you two announced you were dating, they moved heaven and earth to try to absorb all the hate just so you didn’t worry about it; when you dragged (Y/N) for some parts of our tour, they withstood their fear of flying while you slept; when you dragged them to parties, they´d try to keep up with you, trying to have your attention to no avail while you just talked with other people and kissed one of your friends in front of them because of a dare!” Lalisa and Roseanne looked at Jennie, waiting for her to start arguing back but she was lost at words, which prompted Jisoo to continue. “And after they told you what you did and how that made them feel, you go and do it again months later, in their birthday! It went up to a point that they actually started to drink in secret trying to at least tolerate alcohol, do you even know that they almost started smoking because some of your friends did and (Y/N) thought you found that mature and interesting?! And the only thing they actually wanted to drag you with them, you just turned around and said you didn’t like it!” Jisoo didn’t intend to blame it on Jennie, because she thought you were also at fault for not talking about what thought, but the heat of the moment made her sound like it.

“H-How did you know?” That was all Jennie had to say.

-

You would have stayed at your studio for the rest of your day, but you thought Jennie was going to come back any minute, so here you were, in the kitchen heating the dinner she left last night.

Lost in your thoughts, wondering what to do to make your viewers forget what happened. They weren’t happy, but at least the weren’t angry at Jennie, they understood just how busy can idol life get and how her job can become hectic from one day to another, at least that’s the excuse you used. The problem laid on how to keep them from asking for Jennie again when she goes on a rest after her next real work period.

Your mind went all around all kinds of ideas, so desperate for a solution that you didn’t notice your girlfriend getting home, up until she hugged you from your back.

You jumped at the touch, but relaxed when that smell of Chanel got to you. “Don’t scare me like that” You smiled at her sudden presence, but she didn’t answer.

You didn’t know where she was, or what she was doing, so you honestly had no idea about the reason for her silence, but you didn’t question it, waiting for her to bring it up.

“I’m heating up yesterday’s dinner” You mentioned, trying to make small talk but with no avail.

“I love you” That sweet whisper made butterflies to fly wild in your stomach, so soft was her tone and so warm was her touch that it made you remember your first ‘I love you’

“And I love you too” Her hug got a little bit tighter without hurting you, just wanting to keep you as close as possible.

“I saw your stream today, I’m sorry if I let you down” She lied, not wanting to mention how Jisoo scolded her earlier. “I’ll try to be a better girlfriend from now on”

Those words got you spinning around to look at her, cupping her face with your hands. “Don’t say that, you are the best girlfriend I could ever ask for” Your thumbs caressed her cheeks as both of your eyes meet. “You don’t have to force yourself”

“Still, I want to be more considerate of you, and share more things with you” She seemed nervous saying that, but that smile of yours was more than enough of a reassurance that she knew you both were alright.

“And I’ll gladly share them with you” You got closer to her, leaning into her as she did the same. “I’d do everything for you”

And as your lips touched, you both conveyed what your feelings were, hoping the other would share them.

Nothing could separate you.

Not even a message notification from your phone.

Next part.

[crystallinestars]

Hello! I stumbled upon your blog (I dunno still pretty new to tumblr despite being here for years. I don't interact much >_<) while gobbling up the Avenstelle buffet here in tumblr <3.

Anyways. I read the anons asks and your response and omygosh…I've never felt such a relief to find people who shares the same sentiments T_T. Especially the ones with Kaveh and Alhaitham? Gosh. I've never felt so validated about my feelings. Let me get started with Alhaitham.

Okay so in gacha games, (wuwa, hsr, gi, ak, r1999, etc.), I'm a husbando collector. I love collecting the men because they're hot and my eyes love them lol. So…essentially, I also pulled for Alhaitham. I loved him so much, like his personality, his design…I'm smitten. But after how I am bombarded with haikaveh shipping almost every socmed I go, twt mostly, I began to loathe it. Like, I don't really care about shipping. The shipping I only liked is Avenstelle in hsr, yet the incessant shoving of Haikaveh as canon to my face, even though they are not really canonized, just turned me off with Alhaitham, and subsequently, Kaveh as well even though I wanna love him too :(.

It makes me sad that the fandom pushes the only "correct way" to see this characters. How about us, who just wants to have some pixel husbandos for ourselves (lol sorry for the self insert). Kaveh also looks nice and he seems nice and I wanna love him too seeing as we are of the same profession (I'm an architecture student, hopefully passing our thesis and graduating next year!). I am also still on a mission of finding his mom in Fontaine rn (still waiting, hoyo, still waiting…)

Anyways, I am truly glad to see the same sentiments and knowing that I am not alone in noticing this toxicity happening in the fandom coz, what happened to platonic relationships? I dunno, but I really wanna see a heartmelting one and not a shipping one. Aaa I rambled too much haven't I? I'm nervous since this is my first asks. But I just wanna say that you made me feel safe and my heart is overjoyed. Thank you so much. <3 I'm gonna go for now because it's 12:51 am in my country and I need to sleep hahaha! Have a great day!

(Ah, may I please be 🌊 anon? Thankiees!)

Hello 🌊 anon! Thank you for working up the courage and taking the time to write to me. It made me so happy to read that my discussions with other anons made you feel safe. You are definitely not alone in feeling ostracized by the loud portion of fandom. And oh my gosh, you're an architecture student?! That's so cool! Good luck on passing your thesis!

I completely relate to your feeling of losing the love you had for a character due to their popular ship. I'm a Kaveh girlie, but I also like Alhaitham quite a lot since he's a very interesting and relatable character. Unfortunately, the prominence of haikaveh on every social media I visit, and the obnoxious claims of shippers that they're undoubtedly canon, tainted my view of him. I want to love Haitham, but some days it can be hard because seeing him triggers some negative feelings, though I try to push them down. I didn't care for the ship originally, but the behaviours of it's shippers really ruined my perception of it and BL as a whole.

It's only natural you feel that way since so much of the fandom looks down on self-shipping and gatekeeps characters from us. The way Mihoyo handles Haitham and Kaveh in particular doesn't help the situation for yumejoshi, which makes it feel worse.

The only way I find I can have fun is to block and mute all accounts who support the ships I don't like, and peacefully enjoy the content I like. Don't look at comments or the character tags for the sake of your mental health. It sucks that you have to restrict yourself so heavily, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do to keep yourself happy.

If you want to find more people with similar sentiments, feel free to join my discord group! There are lots of people who share your views (and who love Alhaitham), and we also have discussions about fandom and characters, and share fanart and fics. It's a bit like a support group for those of us terrorized by the toxicity of fandom. If you don't want to join, that's perfectly fine. No pressure.

I'm glad you found me, though I'm really curious how that happened lol I don't post any Avenstelle here (though my twt is basically pure Avenstelle and Kavehlumi), so it's a wonder how you found my blog by browsing Avenstelle posts. Regardless, welcome! I'm happy to have you here 😊

[onwriting-hrarby]

Hi Hera!! How are you doing? You most probably don’t remember me but I’m a huge fan of eremika and was a bit active on aottwit during 2022. I remember being so happy and ecstatic to find my people on the internet with whom, I could talk to about my love for aot in general! But the part I loved the MOST, was being able to read the extraordinary fics that the talented people of this fandom were able to produce. Amongst them, was yours! I remember when RJ and Instead They Said were still being written and EremikaFics would post an update, the fandom would go crazy gushing about your writing. I don’t know why I never picked up your works until it was too late. I wish I could go back in time and read RJ and ITS while they were releasing (lol)!!

unfortunately, I also remember the drama that went on in aottwit and the incessant hatred towards so many skilled writers.

This message is erratic, random and completely irrelevant… BUT I wanted to thank you for being such a major part of one of my favourite communities on the internet (however stupid, people may be on aottwit haha). If, by any miracle, you decide to put RJ and IST on ao3 again, I will run as fast as I can and make up for all the times when I didn’t read them, even though I could’ve 💗

Once again, thank you so much 🫶🏼

Oh my god, Lavanya!!!!!!!! It IS you! This ask has made my day, so thank you very much for taking the time to write. How has your life been? I've been not only very busy, but also writing a lot of OG novel, so I've been growing apart for fandom for a bit. <3

Thank you very, very much for your words. I was talking about it with my fandom friends just recently: it did have bitter moments, but in the end, writing for this fandom make me more skilled, and to realize what I truly wanted to write in real life. So every word and hate I got, I think it was worth it!

Oh, RJ and ITS are my babies. As you may know, I hid them because I am a little bit paranoic and i don't want to train any AI or be of inspiration of any writer (because I want to do OG novels with them) but it makes me very happy that you still remember them. I would put them up for a bit for you, too, or I would send you the link, but I fear that when I've done so in the past, people hasn't answered (in the literal way: I sent the files and I never got an answer) and that made me a little bit sad. Because even though I'm trying to protect my fiction and making it (and me) vulnerable by sharing it, not having a reply makes me fret a bit, I hope you understand.

BUT! I do have two other fics I wrote, more recently, about Eremika. It's called The Ploy and Liquid confidence, and also a little oneshot. Let me send you the links if you are interested! They are much better written, but I don't think they have the pull or the "touch" of RJ and ITS, which are still my best works. But if you're craving some Eremika, please, dig into them :)

And if you ever want to talk, or interact, I am so glad you are back, and so, so grateful for your comment again, truly. I don't have emoticons in my computer keyboard, so you'll need to imagine the hearts properly: <3<3<3 <3

[sanfangirl-cynicalromantic]

Hiccstrid Drabble | A Difficult Interview

“Mr. Haddock - if you please, there are a few questions I-”

Hiccup Haddock, heir to ‘Vast Inc.’ and celebrity amputee, whirled around to glare at the reporter, his stunning green eyes flashing dangerously.

“I don’t care,” he grit out, “I’m in no mood for an impromptu interview.”

“Sir, this is by no means impromptu; I scheduled this meeting with your agent two weeks ago-”

Haddock sighed, cutting off the fierce blonde reporter yet again. “For the last time, I have zero interest in sharing my story with anyone, and WestWings should know this, considering I’ve turned down their offers hundreds of times.”

She straightened, adjusting her notepad and tucking her pen back behind her ear, her thick braid holding it in place. “With all due respect, Mr. Haddock, the four different reporters they sent were unable to retrieve your intriguing story, but they sent me now. And I have a . . . highly successful record in being able to extract difficult information.”

He scoffed. “I’m sure you do, looking like that,” he commented snidely. Her carefully polite expression shifted into one of furious outrage.

“Excuse you,” she hissed. “Would you care to elaborate on that?” Her voice was dangerously low. He was completely unaware, rolling his eyes and continuing in a patronizing voice.

“Not at all, you only have that awful scary look on your face that strongly suggests death if I don’t spill all my secrets to you so you can broadcast my personal struggles to the rest of the world,” he snarked.

She drew back, surprised. “Oh.” She had been expecting a different explanation. So many people she interviewed thought the only way a beautiful professional woman was successful was by sleeping her way up to the top.

He blinked, noticing her expression for the first time. His eyes widened. “Oh. Oh. Oh no, I - I’m so - I didn’t mean to imply that you . . . uh, no. Sorry. I’m not hitting on you or anything. I mean, you’re plenty pretty but I’m sure that’s not - I don’t - ugh.” His throat bobbed in apology and for the first time, she supposed she could understand some of the tabloids gushing about his good looks. He wasn’t wearing a full suit, only a crumpled white button up shirt with no tie and untucked out of his trousers. His green eyes were definitely pretty, she decided, especially when coupled with those high cheekbones.

“You know, I think I’m going to take that as a compliment,” she said easily, smoothing over the awkwardness. “Now, if you’d be so kind as to answer a few questions-”

“Fine. One.” she bit her lip against the annoyance that bubbled at his incessant interruptions. “As an apology,” he continued.

“I don’t need a pity answer,” she tried not to snap. She exhaled sharply. “Anyway, Mr. Haddock, where would you like to start?”

“Let’s start with losing the ‘Mr. Haddock’ crap. Makes me feel like my dad. You can call me Hiccup.” Interesting insight into his relationship with his father; more to unpack there. “And how about somewhere not in the open lobby?”

“Very well, Hiccup,” she said, trying out the name. “You can call me Astrid. But I’m not leaving here until you answer that one question you promised me before you can escape behind made up excuses and appointments.” He smiled wryly.

“Caught on, didn't you?” he huffed. She smiled at him.

“I did. Which is why I believe I’m the best person to pass your story to the rest of the world. Whether you like it or not, things will make themselves known, and you can either have people put together a distorted version of everything, or share an accurate, clear account of what happened. We can work together, Hiccup,” she persuaded him, leaning forward, letting that passionate side of her weave into her voice; it was her true secret of how she could obtain any information, infusing her subject with ardor until they were sharing everything, too caught up in the eager flow of their own words and emotions. She saw the effect on him, how he stood a little taller, the spark in his own eyes.

“You’re really good with your words, Ms. Hofferson,” he chuckled. “But you’re right, and I do believe I can trust you enough with my story to not tarnish it with overly dramatic details.” Astrid shrugged an elegant shoulder, pleased she’d broken through his unreceptive exterior.

“I can understand if you’re uncomfortable imparting your story in what seems like an unfeeling and formal environment. Would it be better for us to arrange to meet in a more casual setting? Perhaps a coffee shop?” She was willing to make accommodations if it led to the result she wanted.

Hiccup’s eyes flicked up to meet hers uncertainly. “Professionally,” she clarified. He nodded, ducking his head slightly so she couldn’t quite catch the expression in his eyes. Was he . . . disappointed? Astrid was certainly not averse to getting to know him more . . . privately, after she completed her article about him and solidified her career.

“That sounds good,” he agreed. “Now, as for that one question . . .”

[coeluvr]

Since the fire route got brought up again, I did want share my own MCs stances on their choice to burn. Both did choose to burn Farah's room to give Luceris a taste of his own medicine, but the triggers that cause the choice and what they got out of it ended up being different.

Miles was bottling a lot of things up the years before the fateful room burn. They tried so hard to remain calm, remain kind and were just given crap for their attempts time and time again. But even in those moments, there was always this little fire in their belly that flickered to life in occasion. For them, nothing in particular from the night triggered their urge to burn; it was just everything that's happened over the years hit them at once while in that room. Lancelot's incessant need to fix something that he helped Luceris break, Helios being able to smile even after they revealed to him the monster that the king is, the servants treating him like trash for who knows how long because of king spreading lies about this family, the rage of how Luceris took everything from them, the grief of feeling so alone and unheard...it was like someone poured gasoline on that little fire and it came out roaring. Something about burning the room released a giant weight off them

Brigid, in comparison, has been fighting every step of the way since being dragged to Rosea. No one could ever deny this girl was brimming with the passion and of ferocity of a dragon. But those years of constant fighting were taking a toll on her own fire, that was slowly getting weaker and weaker as nothing around her changed no matter how hard fought for it to. The triggers for her were Vincent's easy discovery of her and the play; something about how seemingly easily Vincent saw through the disguise that left her distraught with the thought she couldn't even have that small taste of freedom for herself without one of Luceris' people knowing about it. Seeing the play just really hit with how many people support and glorify the Rosea king's madness and it was...disheartening. She burned the room with less impulsive action than Miles, but the lashing out did nothing to dispel the heavy weight that that fell upon her that night: she can never be free and so many side with the mad king. The fire in her is now armor by a thick layer of ice that both protects the little that is left, and keeps it hidden now from the outside world.

Both stayed to face Luceris head on, one taking pleasure with the look on his face and the other feeling nothing. Maybe even Luceris sees just how off their smiles are now, with Miles' sharpened with a almost maniacally glee and Brigid's holding nothing but a cold emptiness. Now the games between Luceris and these two are truly about to start.

No one can blame MC for burning down the room because let's be real he deserved every bit of it. It's interesting to read about your two MCs who even if they have a different journeys within themselves, they end up in the same spot.

I just hope they can find some sort of peace (acting like I'm not the author) because what the hell they really deserve it.