#i know this because they're his brand that he doesn't let anyone else touch.

[cator99]

Woke up from a 2 hour nap to a house-neet meltdown in the group chat that could have easily been summed up as a reminder for everyone to use the space in the fridge more effectively but regardless i wondered to myself what this could possibly be about maybe all the produce I've been getting is increasingly becoming an affront to his carbs-only lifestyle and the kale I got that takes up half the crisper drawer was the final straw. Went out to the kitchen to check. Open fridge. 25 cans of pop now stuffed into the top and bottom shelf.

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine King catching feelings for you

Kaido: ah, there he is, King this is the new navigator for the main ship

King: [eyes you in disinterest] I see

You: hello, I look forward to working with you.

King: I'm sure you do.

You: [ignores his rude comment]

Kaido: would you show them around the ship for me?

King: I suppose

You: [opens the door and gestures to it] Lead the way handsome.

King: [looks at you in surprise]

During a dinner

King: [sees you're not touching your sashimi plate]

You: [notices him looking] Do you like sashimi?

King: ... Yes

You: I'm a tad full at the moment to eat mine, could I get your help with it?

King: [wastes no time taking the platter from you] I take it you don't like sashimi?

You: it's not that, I'm just not in the mood for it.

King: [can't tell if you're lying] Good, because I don't know if I can work with someone who doesn't like sashimi.

You: but it would mean more for you.

King: [pauses because he didn't think of it that way before] ... So you're going to give me all your sashimi from now on?

You: [smiles at him] Maybe, if you've been a good boy.

King: [feels unfamiliar emotions stir within him]

After that dinner

You: [goes to King's rooms] King?... King, Kaido wanted me to deliver this course log to you to review for tomorrow... Huh, I'll just leave it on his desk with a note.

King: [exits the shower with just a towel and sees you kneeling on his desk chair and scribbling something down]

You: [turns around to see him trying to duck into another room] King? Is that you?

King: [freezes, knowing he's been seen]

You: wow, I've never seen you without your mask, [realizes this is a breach of his privacy, so you should your eyes] Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to look, I promise I won't say anything to anyone.

King: [grabs his sword and stands over you]

You: [looks up when you hear the blade slide out of the sheath]

King: [feels dread and guilt fill his chest when he sees the look of terror in your eyes]

You: why?

King: I can't let you leave now that you know what I am, the government can't know that I'm still alive. I won't ever go back to being someone else's lab rat.

You: I understand. [Lowers your head in acceptance]

King: [can't bring himself to kill you, so he throws it down] damn it all, get out of my chair.

You: [scrabbles out, and silently watches him sit down and make a call using his den den mushi]

King: Kaido, the new navigator knows

Kaido: ehh? I just got them, do you know how hard it is to find a decent navigator and you're telling me you already killed the brand-new one!

King: I haven't killed them.

Kaido: They escaped you, are they at least wounded?

King: [gets comfortable in his chair] No, they're standing right before me.

You: [had a perfect view of his thighs and the v of his hips peaking out of the towel, and now you can see up his towel, so you look away]

Kaido: what's the hold-up?

King: [sees you looking away, so he leans forward, takes your jaw in his hand, and makes you look at him] We can't afford to lose our only navigator while out at sea. I want to keep them by my side in the meantime.

Kaido: [can tell he's not hearing the full truth] ... As long as it doesn't interfere with their duties, you can do whatever you want with them.

King: thank you

Kaido: now good night [hangs up]

King: [puts down the receiver, and runs his thumb over your lips] ... If you try to leave my sight, I will kill you without hesitation. You will stay by my side, and do everything I say. I do not tolerate disobedience, do you understand me? [Gently shakes you to get his point across]

You: [feels tears well up in your eyes]

King: [feels guilty] I'll have servants bring your things, you'll sleep here, with me, from now on... I'm not doing this to punish you, I'm doing this for my own safety, and because I don't want to kill you.

You: [sniffles] I understand

King: [can hear your distress in your voice and it makes him feel sick] Through that door is the bathroom, go bathe while I make a few calls.

You: [slinks into the other room]

King: [calls the kitchens to deliver your favorite desserts, and calls the servant quarters to have them bring your stuff to his quarters]

After your shower

You: [exits the bathroom wearing a clean kimono]

King: [lounging on the couch, in front of a rather impressive spread of sweets] Your things have been moved into your new room.

You: I'm getting a room all to myself?

King: no, you'll be sleeping with me, I need to know where you are at all times

You: we'll be sharing a bed?!

King: yes, now please help yourself to these sweets, I did order them for you.

You: you did, why? [Goes directly for your favorite dessert]

King: You were distressed, and this was the only way I could think of to help you feel better... Your distress is understandable, I know this isn't ideal for you, being practically chained to my side... And while I can't let you go, I just wanted you to know that... I don't want you to worry or be afraid of me, because I'm not going to hurt you. I can't risk going back to what I was before Kaido, I won't go back to it.

You: ... You mentioned the government earlier, I take it you were held captive by them.

King: yes, it's why I wear the mask.

You: [can see him practically squirming in his seat] Really? And here I was thinking you wore it because it was a fetish.

King: well it is, but it's not the sole reason I wear it.

You: Sasaki owes me 800 Berry then.

King: you people were betting on me?

You: to be fair we bet on everything, there's not a lot to do on a boat in the middle of the ocean.

King: [sighs dramatically] That's true, but back to the topic at hand, I usually kill people for finding out what I am.

You: but not me, what makes me so special?

King: I don't know.

You: [ruminates for a moment] How did seeing me distressed make you feel?

King: uncomfortable, guilty, I dunno? I just didn't like it.

You: hmm I see, so you don't want to kill me, seeing me upset disturbs you, and you have anxiety if I am out of your sight.

King: believe whatever you want about my reasoning, it changes nothing.

You: ... One final question

King: [rolls his eyes, and crosses his arms] Fine, final question.

You: when you were on the call with Kaido, why did you make me look at you?

King: I didn't like that you were looking away.

You: I see.

King: ... Why did you look away?

You: I could see up your towel.

King: How much did you see?

You: some of your balls, and most of your shaft.

King: [feels arousal and embarrassment well up in him] Are you finished with your food?

You: I believe so.

King: come, I'll show you the bedroom.

You: [follows him and takes it in] Why are there no lights?

King: because it's time for bed [gets settled in bed when he notices you haven't moved] are you coming or are you sleeping on the floor?

You: that bed doesn't look like it'll fit both of us?

King: [rolls his eyes, grabs your arm, and pulls you into the bed up on his chest.] It's just fine, relax and go to sleep, I won't do anything.

You: [rests your weight on him and struggles to get comfortable]

King: [agitated because you're so close to him and he's experiencing new emotions he didn't know he had] Would you stop fidgetingñ

You: I'm trying to get comfortable and avoid kicking you in your dick!

King: [realizes how aroused he is by having you so close] tsk, do it quickly.

The next morning

King:[wakes up empty-handed, panics, and looks around until he sees you]

You: [asleep on his wing, face nuzzled into his down feathers, and has handfuls of his flight feathers.]

King: [mental cogs slide into place and he realizes he's in love with you] Oh fuck [sits up]

You:[awakens with a shriek when the surface below is yanked out from under you]

King: [sits up on the side of the bed with his hands covering his face]

You: [pushes your upper half up onto your palms as you twist to look over at him] What's going on?

King: [ looks over to see you half asleep, messy-haired, and your kimono had loosened in your sleep and was now only closed over your lap and under the obi belt, giving him an eyeful of your shoulders, the center of your chest, and from mid-thigh down]

You: it's like five in the morning, what's going on? [Reaches out and pulls on his feathers]

King: nothing, go back to sleep.

You: [doesn't need to be told twice, and plops back down and wiggles back into a comfortable position]

Bout a week later

King: [has so much pent-up tension he's basically a walking time bomb that everyone avoids]

Kaido: what have you been doing to him to make him so cranky?

You: I have absolutely no clue.

Kaido: well you better do something about it before he snaps and burns down my ship.

You: [ goes to King's room to find him tensed up and hunched over his desk] Kaido wants me to do something.

King: what now?

You: he wants me to fix whatever I've been doing to make you so cranky.

King: [scoffs] You haven't done anything.

You: [climbs into his lap, straddles his thighs, and cups his cheeks] And that might be what I'm doing wrong.

King: [relaxes at the softness in your voice, but pulls your hands away from his mask] This is my problem to deal with.

You: can I please help, I'll do anything.

King: anything?

You: [nods] anything

King: [wraps his hands around your hips, and pushes you down so you're seated on his lap]

You: [feels the heat rolling off the erection trapped in his pants] Oh my

King: [guides your body to gently rock against him] You said you'd do anything, and it's your fault it's like this. Don't you think you should take responsibility?

You: [huffs, but puts your back into grinding down on him] It's been days since I moved in, why didn't you tell me sooner?

King: I was already keeping you captive, [Grunts and starts to pant as he tilts his hips up to get more friction] It felt like I would've been pressuring you into something non-consensual.

You: I see [slows your movements to a halt]

King: [huffs and bucks his hips in frustration, pulling on your hips to get you to move again] Don't fucking stop, please.

You: [goes slow] Tell me, is this just lust?

King: [desperate] It can be anything you want it to be, please I just want you.

You: is this all you want? My body?

King: I'll take whatever you give me, but I'll always want more. I'm so fucking greedy for you. I want it all, I want the sashimi you don't like. I want fun evenings out, and restless nights in with you, only to be followed by quiet passionate mornings with you. I want you to look at only me, smile at only me, to fuck only me. I'll take whatever you give, just please give me this, [Presses his thumbs into the softness on your belly] even if it's only this once.

You: you're in love with me?

King: [slumps pathetically into his chair in defeat, and looks at the ceiling] Fuck ... Yes, I am. I am in love with you, and spending every night with you pressed against me has made me insatiable.

You: [giggles]

King: [flips you off]

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

[eunxhan]

Ꮺ Anon Requested ⨾ Polyamory/harem relationship with head over heels bottom subs,, one is a cute shy guy who loves m reader so fucking much he doesn't mind getting cucked and stuff as long as it pleases reader,,another one is a hot sexy model who's very proud of his body, always taking care of himself so you'll praise him when you fuck him, taking care of his hair well so you can easily pull them,,, kinky sub who's into wild plays, totally devoted to reader and would do literally anything like damn.. Another cold aloof kind of man,, people are intimidated by him and he's all strong and one man army stuff.. Yet when it comes to reader he's just a mess like damn,, all these pretty, smart, strong subbies also has reader's personal brand on his skin,,, they're so head over heels they do anything for reader's acknowledgement,,,

Ꮺ Eun Replies ⨾ Oh my, It is lovely to see my sweets still active. I have been thinking about this entry the moment I came back in this platform. How I've missed all of you.. I did wrote them separately but I decided to write and post another where they all meet in the future. But anyways, what should we name these three?

•◦✦────•◦ᘡᘞ •◦────✦◦•◦•

Ꮺ Disclaimer — NSFW.

Reader ⨾ MALE. YOU/YOUR.

Words used ⨾ 1578

Links ⨾ My Navigation

•◦✦────•◦ᘡᘞ •◦────✦◦•◦•

Let's say, you're an average guy with a typical 9 to 5 job. You couldn't care less about what anyone has to say or do to you, yet three men managed to catch your interest. One of them being Shy!sub. It's not like you guys have been together since childhood; you only met during middle school.

Shy!sub is incredibly shy and easily embarrassed. He tends to blush a lot, especially around you. Even the slightest touch or intimate gesture from you can make him flush red.

Shy!sub is used to your rantings while playing with him, and sometimes, you being a little shit happens to take your anger out on him during your calls. He never says or complains about it; he just listens or sometimes even apologizes to you.

Shy!sub enjoys playing video games with you, even if he's not very good at them and you call him out for jt. He just finds it relaxing and a great way to bond with you. He often cheers you on during your gaming sessions.

Not only does he enjoys gaming, Shy!sub has a secret love for romantic movies. He often watches them when you're not around, dreaming of the day you and him will have your own romantic story.

Shy!sub looks at you as if he's admiring a piece of art, even if you're just there yelling and getting mad about something ridiculous. You can tell that he wants something else. But if you call him out on something, Shy!sub hates confrontations and avoids them at all costs. He would rather keep the peace than engage in an argument, even if it means holding back his true feelings.

Shy!sub is the type of person who's too soft for people like you to handle. He does your chores because he knows you're exhausted from your job or school, and even cooks for you.

Shy!sub enjoys cooking for you, as he sees it as a way to show his love and care for you. He often tries out new recipes, hoping to impress you with his culinary skills. If you point something out or compliment his cooking, be ready to see him almost everyday in your kitchen.

He acts more like a boyfriend than a best friend. One call of his name, and he's dashing towards you like a loyal dog ready to do what you ask. With him basically living with you, Shy!sub can sleep easily. He is afraid of the dark and often sleeps with a nightlight on. He sometimes asks you to sleep with him when he's feeling particularly scared.

Shy!sub never admits this but he secretly loves it when you get angry, as it shows your passionate side. He often provokes you, hoping to see your fiery temper.

When both of you started to have some intimate moments, Shy!sub got even more embarrassed but he never stops trying to tease you with his every move. He basically lives with you now from how much time he spends with you. Everything escalated quickly when you got home and saw him wearing something he normally doesn't wear.

Shy!sub looks so damn adorable in his light bubblegum pink lingerie, but you decided to keep it in your pants and let him explain what he was doing. You could tell he was about to burst out crying when you walked in on him.

—

Shy!sub's eyes widened as he realized you had caught him in his new attire. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his heart raced, fearing the worst. The lingerie, a gift from a secret admirer, was supposed to be a surprise for You. But now, with you standing in the doorway, the moment had been ruined.

You, on the other hand, couldn't help but admire the way the lingerie hugged Shy!sub's curves, accentuating his hourglass figure. The sight of Shy!sub in such a delicate and feminine ensemble stirred something deep within you—a desire he had never felt before. But he knew the time was not right to act on it.

"It's... it's for you," Shy!sub managed to stutter, his voice trembling. "I wanted to surprise you. I thought you'd like it."

"Wow, I've never thought I would see this coming from you. Someone who is known to be easily embarrassed over everything." You could see the vulnerability in Shy!sub's eyes as you reply to him. It was a rare sight, and it tugged at your heartstrings. You knew Shy!sub's affections ran deep, and you couldn't bear to see him so distressed. So, with a smile, you stepped forward and gently placed a hand on Shy!sub's cheek.

"You look amazing," You said, his voice soft and reassuring. "And I appreciate the thought. But remember, you don't need to do anything to impress me. I love you just the way you are."

Shy!sub let out a shaky breath, relief washing over him. He leaned into your touch, grateful for your understanding. The moment, though awkward, had brought them closer. From that day on, You began to see Shy!sub in a whole new light. Your words and gentle touch calmed Shy!sub's nerves. The tension in the room shifted, and a new energy filled the space. Shy!sub's heart fluttered as your hand lingered on his cheek, your thumb gently caressing Shy!sub's soft skin.

Emboldened by your acceptance, Shy!sub leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss. It was a tentative move, a test to gauge your reaction. But you responded with a hunger that surprised them both. Your lips met in a passionate kiss, your tongues dancing and exploring each other's mouths. Shy!sub's hands roamed your body, feeling the contours of your muscles through your shirt. Your hands slid down Shy!sub's back, cupping his rear and pulling him closer.

The lingerie, once a source of embarrassment, now became a symbol of their growing desire. The soft fabric rubbed against your body, igniting a fire within you. Shy!sub could feel your arousal pressing against him, and it sent shivers down his spine. His mind were somewhere else as he softly groans in your ears, his mind tells him to beg you to do something more to him.

You both broke the kiss, panting and flushed. Your eyes were dark with desire, and Shy!sub's lips were swollen from your passionate embrace. The room was filled with a palpable tension, a promise of what was to come.

"Darling," Shy!sub whispered, his voice heavy with need. "I want you. I've always wanted you." he whined at the end. You didn't need to be told twice. You scooped Shy!sub into your arms and carried him to the bedroom, which made him more excited.

•◦✦────•◦ᘡᘞ •◦────✦◦•◦•

Confident!sub, a charming and flirtatious individual, utilizes his natural charisma and wit to captivate those around him. Easily drawing in his audience, he leaves them craving more of his company. His tactics to garner attention, however, are solely to attract the cameras. When it comes to you, his dearest, he's wholly devoted.

His sarcastic nature and high tolerance levels add an alluring challenge to his persona, making him even more magnetic. For you, though, his sarcasm serves as a playful means of aggravation.

Confident!sub is confident in his physicality, maintaining his desirable physique through rigorous workouts. Brands and designers clamor for him to be the face of their new products, well aware of his pickiness when it comes to endorsements.

In his pursuit of physical perfection, Confident!sub adheres to a strict regimen of body care. His routine, from head to toe, takes a full three hours, with shower time not even included. If you need the bathroom while he's in there, you'll have to resort to forceful measures.

During his photoshoots, Confident!sub teases you with his movements and poses. He'll gaze hungrily at you, performing his job with you as his little assistant, always present in the room. If you're absent, his temper flares. So, sad to say that you're always with him in and out.

A possessive streak emerges in Confident!sub when he spots you admiring other models. With him in the room, half-naked and expecting your adoration, he takes offense at your gaze wandering to less attractive individuals. If you curse at him for his tantrums, his anger intensifies, believing you should have been fixated on him.

Confident!sub is unfiltered in his communication, voicing his thoughts at any given moment. Be it day, night, place, or time, he'll share his uncensored musings. With a bored expression, he'll casually mention desires like you satisfying him behind a door post-shoot or gripping his hair. One time while you were having breakfast, he mumbled something about how he dreamed about you pounding him for a photoshoot.

Despite his outward confidence, Confident!sub harbors insecurities deep down. He worries that one day, his looks might fade, and he'll lose the adoration he currently enjoys. So with you having around him, he dares not to let you go. He hates it when you look at other models that he finds intimidating. Whenever you reassure him about his insecurities, expect not getting out of the bedroom for atleast two days.

Confident!sub hates being touched by strangers. He becomes uncomfortable and edgy when people he doesn't know try to touch him. He's only comfortable with you touching him. You should be lucky that someone like him allows you to touch him, his words not mine.

——

After a long and tiring photoshoot, Confident!sub was ready to unwind. With his manager having rented a hotel room for him, he of course invited you to join him, knowing full well what he had in mind. You, aware of Confident!sub's intentions, eagerly accepted the invitation.

In the privacy of the hotel room, Confident!sub wasted no time in expressing his desires. You pinned him against the wall, his hands roaming your body with a hunger that could not be satiated. With you, equally aroused, gripped Confident!sub's hair, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

Confident!sub's hands slid down to your body, undoing your pants with a swift motion. He wasted no time in freeing his own arousal, rubbing it against yours before he could let you rub against his entrance. With a swift thrust, you entered him, filling him with your length.

The room was filled with the sounds of him screaming your name and the wet sounds. Confident!sub's moans echoed off the walls, a testament to his pleasure. You, gripping onto Confident!sub's hair, praised him for his skill and good looks, encouraging him to continue his plea.

Confident!sub, driven by your words, moving his hips at the same pace as you with a fervor that was almost animalistic. Your hands gripped on his hips, pulling him closer with each thrust. Him, lost in a sea of pleasure, could only hold on for dear life, his moans mingling in the air.

As you both reached your climax, Confident!sub's moans grew louder, your thrusts becoming more erratic. Him, gripping onto you tightly, felt his own release building. With a final thrust, you both reached, your bodies trembling with the force releasing.

•◦✦────•◦ᘡᘞ •◦────✦◦•◦•

Intimidating!sub, a formidable figure with a history in the military, bears scars on both his face and body. His imposing physique and commanding posture are enough to convey his cold and strict demeanor, deterring others from approaching him. Even children and pets are frightened by his aura.

Despite his chilling exterior, Intimidating!sub has a soft spot for his beloved. At the mere sound of his name, spoken by you, his defenses crumble. He prefers to reserve his genuine smiles for private moments, sharing them only with you.

In terms of protection, Intimidating!sub is unparalleled. His presence alone is enough to deter potential aggressors, as if he were a guard dog watching over you. His menacing appearance suggests he'd defend you with ferocity, ready to "bite" anyone who dares to bother you.

In private, Intimidating!sub reveals a sensitive side. He cries during movies or deep conversations, seeking your comfort. With his head resting on your chest, he finds solace as he weeps, trying to express his feelings or explain the emotions triggered by a film. He's known to shed tears privately if his actions upset a child or pet.

Intimidating!sub is an intellectual powerhouse, capable of answering nearly any query and solving complex mathematical problems in a matter of seconds. He's like a human calculator, with an uncanny ability to memorize information. This makes outings with him effortless, as you need not consult your phone for calculations or searches.

Eager for your affection, Intimidating!sub leans on your shoulder, a subtle request for attention. He demands your love, regardless of your current engagements. If he's bold enough, he'll wake you to share a tender gaze.

Embarrassed by his nocturnal desires, Intimidating!sub awakens from wet dreams, seeking solace in the bathroom. If he gathers the courage, he'll attempt to rouse you, his eyes pleading softly.

——

After Intimidating!sub woke you from your slumber, you noticed the flush on his face, a testament to his embarrassment. A soft whimper escaped his lips, "Please help me with this..." Your eyes followed his gaze downward, where you found his hardened length, throbbing and grinding against the material of his pants.

The sight was too enticing to ignore, and as he offered you a small, tender peck on the cheek, you decided to give in to his desires. You guided his hand to release his length from its prison, letting it spring free. The tip glistened with pre-cum, a clear indication of his arousal.

Intimidating!sub's eyes locked onto yours, pleading for your touch. You obliged, wrapping your hand around his shaft and beginning to stroke him gently. His breathing hitched, his face contorting in pleasure. You teased him, speeding up and slowing down your strokes, drawing out his pleasure.

As you continued, Intimidating!sub's body grew more tense, his hips bucking involuntarily. You could sense his impending release, and you leaned in, taking his length into your mouth. The sensation of your warm, wet mouth enveloping him sent him over the edge.

Intimidating!sub cried out your name, his body trembling as he came. You swallowed his release, showing no signs of discomfort. When you pulled away, he collapsed onto the bed, his body slick with sweat.

You climbed on top of him, straddling his hips, and lowered yourself onto his still-hard shaft. He gasped, his hands gripping your hips as you began to ride him. The intimacy of this moment, with the dominant figure now reduced to the bottom, was intoxicating.

•◦✦────•◦ᘡᘞ •◦────✦◦•◦•

@𝑬𝑼𝑵𝑿𝑯𝑨𝑵. Do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and/or confirmation.

[suuuupernovaaa]

pxen

pxen [p’ɛn] n. functional clothing (item of)

Based on this request.

Lo'ak reaches out, touching the delicate woven poncho that his sister is wearing. It's not the kind of thing Lo'ak would typically notice, but something about it has caught his eye. There's a sparkle to it, something woven through the fabric that catches the light, very similar to the na'vi skin in the darkness of night.

"Where did you get this?" Lo'ak asks. Kiri looks down, and then shrugs.

"It was just with my stuff. It's really pretty, though. Tuk found one too... and mom."

"Huh," Lo'ak says, and his attention is then drawn to the carpet under his feet. A rug, brown and maroon, intricately woven and brand new. "This is new too, right?"

Kiri looks down, following her brother's gaze. "I think so. Looks clean."

"Huh," Lo'ak repeats, and then shrugs and moves on with his day.

xx

Even though I knew this day would come, I've been hoping to put it off for as long as possible. It isn't so much that I don't want to meet Neteyam's family, it's just that I'm worried to disappoint them.

As much as Neteyam hates it when I point it out, he's special. Not just because of the things I love about him, like his quiet sense of humor, his easy-going smile, his strength and his compassion.

He's special because of who he is, and who he was born to be. His birthright makes him special. Eldest son of Olo'eyktan. Were Neteyam ugly, harsh, stupid and cruel - the true opposite of himself - he would still be above my station.

He would still be too good for me.

And yet, here we are, walking hand in hand to meet his parents, so that he can introduce me as his betrothed. His intended mate. I had always told him I did not want his family to know about me, but never really told him why, until last night.

"Why now?" Neteyam had asked when I told him I was finally ready to meet his parents, moments after he took my hands into his and asked me to be his mate for life.

"Because I know now, truly that you love me. I don't need to be afraid anymore."

He had shaken his head and brushed a tear from my cheek. "I've loved you since the moment we met."

So now we approach their home, and even though I am secure in my relationship with Neteyam, I am nervous about being accepted into their family. He reassures me over and over that they will love me as he does, they will be thrilled for us, but it doesn't stop me from feeling sick to my stomach.

"Neteyam!" Taruk Makto is the first to greet him as we enter their tent, looking up from where he sits, and it's overwhelming to be in such close proximity to our clan leader. I bow my head as he looks from me to Neteyam and back at me again. His wife, Neytiri, is seated at his side, and turns her attention away from the arrows she is sharpening to look at us.

"Dad," Neteyam says, "Mom. I want to introduce you to Y/N."

He lets go of my hand, and places his arm around my waist, pulling me close to him. After only a moment of hesitation, Neteyam's parents rise to their feet. As they do, I feel movement behind me, and glance to see Neteyam's siblings entering.

Kiri is wearing the shawl I made for her, and Tuk has a dressing wrapped around her tail that I crafted. Beneath our feet, I notice a rug I just finished a few days ago. It makes me feel a little more at ease and at home, to be surrounded by my creations.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Olo'eyktan says, and I touch my fingertips to my forehead, and then bring them down in a formal greeting. I repeat the gesture for Neteyam's mother.

"I've been, uh, spending a lot of time with Y/N. She's really wonderful. She's better on the loom than anyone else in the clan. She made the rug we stand on, and Kiri's poncho, and many other things I've brought home. She was just too, uh, shy to own up to her talent."

Neytiri turns around, looking on a nearby table, and grabs another poncho I made. This one is green, more earthy than the sparkly one Kiri is wearing.

"This, too?" Neytiri asks, and I nod. "This is beautiful. They're all beautiful. Truly, unlike anything I've seen. You made these?"

"I did," I reply a little nervously. "I wanted to give them to you myself but, since we hadn't be introduced, I had Neteyam bring them to you."

"I asked Y/N to be my mate last night, and she said yes," Neteyam says suddenly, and a hush falls over the room.

I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, wondering which way their reactions will go.

Confusion? Anger? Disappointment?

"Wow, that's insane!" comes a cry from Lo'ak, and he reaches out, extending his arms to me for a hug. "Another sister, I guess! I mean, I've got enough, but you seem okay." He wraps me in strong arms, and I return the hug, so grateful that he's broken the silence.

When Lo'ak releases me, I turn anxiously to see Neteyam's parents, and the scene is exactly what I would have dreamed up if I hadn't been too scared to imagine this day.

Netytiri holds her eldest son in her arms, and over his shoulder, she smiles serenely at me. Jake has his hands outstretched, one on his wife's shoulders, the other on Neteyam's.

"I wish you had brought her here sooner, so we could get to know her!" Neytiri says.

"You guys are scary," Neteyam replies, and his father laughs. Neytiri reaches out, extending a hand to me, and I place my hand in hers.

"I have known something was going on with my son. He is as happy as he has ever been, smiling like a moron from morning until night. I was waiting for this moment." She holds one of my hand in both of hers, grinning at me. "You are welcome in our family. Now we can give you gifts in return, for the beautiful things you have given us."

I shake my head, feeling embarrassed at the tears pricking behind my eyes. "No, you don't have to do that. I like making those things."

Our chief hugs me next, quickly and a little awkwardly, and the relief I feel is palpable.

Quick acceptance is a surprise. I had imagined at least a little resistance, but I hadn't counted on Neteyam's parents putting his health and happiness above all else.

How could I? I didn't know them, hadn't known that besides being Olo'eyktan and the next Tsahik, Neytiri and Jake were just parents who loved their children.

We leave the tent much later, after hours of talking and celebration, and before we get too far away, Neteyam pulls me into his arms and presses his lips to mine in what feels like a long overdue kiss.

"I knew they would love you, just as I do," he whispers, his lips still touching mine.

[amazinglyegg]

Paladin Danse headcanons because I love this little dude

Doesn't like being talked about behind his back, even if they're saying positive things about him. If he's talking about someone not in the room he's bringing up the things he said in that conversation next time he sees them because he thinks they deserve to hear the praise/critique.

Never really looks at the little things in life. The smell of brewing coffee, the way the sun rises over the trees, the calming ambient chatter of a shared living space... it all goes unnoticed by him. He finds himself thinking about the future constantly, and it takes someone who consciously points it all out to him for him to learn to live in the present more.

LOVES learning, although that passion dies down a bit while he's in the Brotherhood, partially due to grief/trauma and partially due to the Brotherhood indirectly teaching soldiers that outsiders are bad and the Brotherhood is always right. His love gets rekindled when he joins the Minutemen.

Doesn't really believe he has PTSD and pushes away medical help because he sort of feels offended that he was diagnosed despite his skepticism. The type of person to think "I don't have PTSD because I don't have any flashbacks, I just have nightmares and intrusive thoughts and sometimes I feel the same overwhelming emotions I felt when the trauma happened... but none of those are flashbacks!" (spoiler alert, man, not all flashbacks look like they do in movies).

Touch starved but not in the "cute clingy boyfriend" way. More like the "cringing away from touch because it's physically painful" way. He hasn't gotten any sort of physical contact in SO LONG and it's seriously fucking with him.

I was going to make a separate post about this but this man would fucking LOVE laser tag. He would be IN HIS ELEMENT. He would be THRIVING. Let this guy play a game of laser tag with some other soldiers please it would be great enrichment for him.

Strangely passionate about socks. Yes, socks. Do you have any idea how GOOD high quality socks feel?? If you complain about any sort of foot pain he has sock brand recommendations for you. He's the sock equivalent of "It's 'cause you're always on that damn phone" that parents use. "Danse my head hurts" "It's because you didn't get the socks I recommended to you" "????"

Will drink as a social activity, but mostly drinks alone. Also a sad drunk.

Would love any and all fidget toys he gets his hands on. Probably refuses to use them because most of them are colorful and "toys", but if you manage to sneak a fidget cube or a tangle in his hands while he's sitting around? That bitch will be used non-stop until he leaves it somewhere and forgets about it. Will probably adjust whatever action he's doing so he can keep one hand free to keep fidgeting.

Doesn't like anything that sticks to his hands or makes a mess on surfaces, like slime, putty, paint, mud, etc. If you hand him slime he will touch it once and then leave to go wash his hands.

Sleeps hot, probably without a blanket often because he overheats. Tosses and turns a lot. Does that thing where he can sleep through basically anything but the second you try to tiptoe past him he will shoot awake.

Keeps Cutler's and Krieg's dog tags in his bedside drawer. Doesn't do so with anyone else's, not because he doesn't care about any of his other teammates who died, but because he knows if he let himself keep doing that the drawer would get filled way too quickly. That realization was at about the same time he "toughened up" a lot more and fell into the commanding officer mindset he's still in today.

Doesn't like needles. He'll get shots and whatever if he needs to, obviously, but unlike most other undesirable things he'll actually complain about it a bit instead of acting like the tough guy. Probably looks away whenever he needs to get stitches.

Eats a ton of food, not so much water. Will absolutely demolish several servings of pasta and then complain of a dehydration headache, completely unaware that the last time he drank water was 7 hours ago.

Likes training new recruits, makes him a bit nostalgic for the old days with him and Cutler. Tends to be a bit soft with the ones that really remind him of Cutler, but in the type of way where he pulls them aside just to say "You did really well today :)" completely oblivious that the poor initiate assumed they were going to get reprimanded and are now having a mini panic attack.

[death-rebirth-senshi]

Tagged by @daggertongue

How to: Rate your OCs based on how they handle cuddling/being cuddled.

I don't have as many fun ocs as you but I'll run down my little list of bioware dudes <3

Ezra Shepard: 10/10, he will cuddle with anyone anywhere, and very often initiates physical contact with anyone he's close to, platonic romantic or whatever. It was very difficult getting Jack used to this in particular, but they managed to power through. He tends to bonk helmets with Tali.

Miles Shepard: 5/10, he is a very sociable and kind and everyone loves him, but he's always keeping a professional distance in a way most people will either not notice or consider entirely appropriate given that he is their Commander after all. Even with Kaidan he prefers small touches and hand holding; any outright cuddling is initiated by Kaidan, and he has to sort of force himself to accept that such a thing is allowed. Only when they're alone, mostly late at night when he's too tired for distance. Even still, sometimes he enjoys it, sometimes it's just too much. Even years down the line with all shame unlearned, he's not up to cuddling 100% of the time, though it's at least around 80% by then. They have a million other rituals to to show affection. He's not really cuddling with anyone else.

Alim Surana: 2/10 pretty much everyone, 6/10 for Zevran. He is just not much of a cuddler by nature. He also likes to keep a professional distance from people, doesn't trust easily, and shows his affection in a myriad of other ways if he actually likes you. (He frequently doesn't like people, but will strongly pretend he does if he has a use for them; how comfortable he is with physical touch is the greatest indicator of how real it is). Even with Zevran they often don't quite cuddle per se. Zevran's head in his lap; shoulders touching; laying on top of each other; but seldom really tucked in each other's arms or holding one another in bed. Alim likes his space, and Zevran is fine with giving it to him. Even when they're at they're closest and least ashamed of it. For a second I thought to add Morrigan to the list, but honestly I don't think she's much for cuddling either, and their friendship with each other is stronger for it.

Kamil Hawke: 9/10 that man is a cuddler but he does have to know you first. But that threshold is often a lot smaller than most think. He's most affectionate with his family; Mother, Carver, and Bethany, when they were there with him. It at least can never be said that he didn't hug any of them enough. Anders he keeps almost possessively close, rarely taking a hand off him, having him wrapped in his arms as often as possible. But you'll also frequently catch him cuddled with Merrill, who joyfully welcomes such behavior, and Isabela, who always says she can't stand it, yet never pushes Hawke away; "If I don't let him he'll pout all night," she'll say, and this is technically true. He has...more of a warrior's bond with Aveline, Fenris and Varric, that makes him typically keep his distance, but if the mood strikes you may find him wrapped around them as well.

Bonus round for my tarnished priest guy Cedric because Elden Ring is on my mind: He plays up being very stoic and unemotional, both as a Confessor warrior priest and later as he tries to dress himself up as a Paladin of the Erdtree; but once he gets past his blocks and issues (aka has a prostate orgasm) he is a huge cuddlebug and the hard part is getting him off of you.

tagging @fury-brand and @nautilusopus I know you guys have fun ocs at least. No pressure though.

[casspurrjoybell-29]

Enduring Ties - Chapter 5 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

This military camp was far larger than the old one and full of a fresh set of leering faces and suggestive comments aimed in Cailan's direction.

They didn't bother Cailan terribly much anymore.

He knew he was safe with his master at his side and there was nothing new in the things they said.

It infuriated Liam, however.

He knew better than to challenge anyone in a brand new place where he knew so few people but by the time the four of them made it to their new tent his teeth were clenched and he was squeezing Cailan's hand hard enough that it hurt.

Liam took a deep breath in, let it out, then looked down at their joined hands and released his grip.

"Sorry, love. Did I hurt you?"

Cailan shook his head and stroked the back of Liam's hand.

"I'm sorry they upset you."

"You're sorry? No, I'm sorry those filthy animals talk to you like you're a common whore. They have no class. They don't understand what you are or how you should be treated."

"Don't think they really care," Tris commented as he tossed his bags down on the floor of the tent.

"I don't either, actually but I'm pretty polite to whores too."

Liam let out a long sigh.

"You know, sometimes I hate it here but then I think back to how my family treated him, how my school friends did when I let them near him and I realise the only difference is that the language they used was less crude. They were no kinder to him."

"Yeah, I mean, that is kind of the thing with being a slave, right? Doesn't get you a whole lot of respect."

"Can you not have power over someone without being cruel to them?"

"I guess but if what you want and what someone else wants are the same thing or if they're not but you're not gonna do anything about it, what do you need power over them for? Power's for making people do what you want instead of what they want, right?"

"I suppose you could describe it that way but it doesn't have to be an awful thing. We're all part of power structures, whether in our work or in our personal relationships. They can be caring and mutually beneficial."

"Listen, I'm not trying to make any statement on your personal relationship with your slave. I don't know anything about any of that. All I'm saying is once you scale it up to the whole thing, to the institution of slavery, things are gonna get ugly because the whole point is not giving them a choice in things because if you did they wouldn't wanna be your property."

"I do," Cailan said.

He didn't normally intrude on Liam's conversations but Liam was starting to look upset.

"I want Liam to be my master. I want to serve him."

"Huh, okay," Tris said. "I'm glad you're doing what you want to be doing."

Liam's eyebrows lifted.

"What, no lecture about how he's been brainwashed into it?"

"I mean that seems like a thing that could be true but I don't know shit about shit so what am I actually gonna say? And what would the point be? He's still gonna be a slave. If he's happy, well... good. I'm glad."

"Well, I appreciate..." Liam started to say but he was interrupted by the sound of someone smacking the side of the tent near the flap.

That was the equivalent of knocking on a door in these places.

Without waiting for a response, a man with curly dark brown hair stuck his head through the flap.

"Ah. You're here. Hello."

"Hamish," Tris said as the man entered the tent.

"Liam, this is Hamish, the man who made this all possible."

"Oh, Hamish," Liam said. "It's nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

"People do tend to have a lot to say about me."

Hamish's attention narrowed in on Cailan and his head tilted ever so slightly to the side.

"Wow, you do look like you were expensive. Is your hair real gold?"

"No, sir, just hair," Cailan murmured.

Liam's wrapped his arm around Cailan's waist.

"I can give you a few strands from his brush if you're curious but I do ask that nobody but myself touches him. I hope that was communicated clearly and that we have an understanding."

"Relax. About the only thing that turns me off is timidity. And women, I suppose."

Hamish thought for a moment.

"No, actually, women are fine, they just don't turn me on. An important distinction under the right circumstances."

"Well, I... yes," Liam said. "What about everyone else? I'm told it should be safe to leave Cailan alone in the tent here."

"He'll be fine," Hamish assured him. "We have a bit of a community here and as a community we have a bit of a reputation. Of having sex with one another. That's our reputation. Which is an issue because it's technically illegal, and more importantly icky, at least in some people's eyes. Anyway, the point is that none of us would be all that safe alone but we have our tents together here and we keep an eye on one another and nobody bothers us all that much."

"Thank you, I appreciate it," Liam said. "There was a tent where slaves could be left during the day at our old camp but I really dislike leaving Cailan with other slaves."

"Why? Isn't it good for him to be able to make slave friends?"

"See, I thought so too but they're mostly poorly trained children who are treated quite cruelly by their masters. It's not a healthy environment for him. It was a situation there that prompted me to make this move, in fact. A man came into the tent while Cailan was there,and while he only touched his own slave he did it in front of the others. In front of Cailan. I don't want Cailan exposed to that sort of thing."

"That's fair," Hamish said. "I wouldn't like to see that either."

Cailan bit down on the inside of his cheek to suppress a frown.

Liam had been upset about that situation when Cailan had told him about it but he hadn't brought it up since.

Certainly not in relation to this move.

He had been excited for the promotion and had talked about getting to see Cailan more but nothing else.

Liam pressed a kiss on the side of Cailan's forehead and murmured...

"I know."

"Hmm?" Hamish asked.

"Oh, I didn't tell him that was what motivated all of this," Liam explained. "It makes him feel guilty when I prioritise his needs but on balance I think it's more important that he understands that I will."

Cailan ducked his head.

He hadn't told Liam about that incident expecting him to do anything about it or even with the intention of seeking sympathy.

It had simply been something Cailan thought Liam ought to be aware of.

In retrospect, he wasn't at all surprised that Liam hadn't forgotten about it as quickly as he had pretended.

As upside down as it seemed, Liam did prioritise Cailan's needs.

"Well, seems like everything is fine hare," Hamish said. "Welcome to the camp, hope you enjoy your time here, stay away from Simon he hates you on principle and if you need anything don't hesitate to come and see me."

"Uh..." Liam started to say but Hamish had already left. "Well, he's... interesting."

"You'll like him once you get to know him," Tris said. "Everyone likes Hamish."

"Oh, no, I think I already like him but he is strange."

"And he was looking at the two of you like he'd never seen anything like you before, so what does that make you?"

"Sometimes when things are mostly not very good, being strange is necessary," Liam said.

"Come on, Cailan. Let's see if we can find something to put those flowers of yours in before they wilt any more."

[ofgods]

   BEFORE MAKING THE DECISION TO FINALLY come back to the city, the one thing she promised was that she'd keep her feelings out of the equation. she needed to focus on making amends. after everything she's done, it's the only thing that seemed fair. at least until she's able to make things right, but her love for him has only grown in magnitude over the last eight months. and now that she's seen him? shared space, spoken to him, touched him? it's getting harder to keep her heart from reaching out to him the same way it always has. despite the internal struggle, she laughs at his response.   ❝  you can tell me whatever you want. i'll always listen, even if i don't actually listen.  ❞   she's never been good at that.   ❝  except i feel i should share that every moment spent with you makes it to the top of my favourites list, so it seems neither of us have to do anything special except just be.  ❞   it's nice knowing it's something he still wants to do for her too though.

   her head shakes before giving an answer that would seem to any passerby as being too serious considering the topic, but anyone who knew her would know it's on brand for her. all important things deserve to be taken that way and there's nobody more important to her than him.   ❝  of course not, ya goof.  ❞    heart is a big piece of the puzzle and anyone with a brain knows he has that in spades.   ❝  if your preferred way to practice was strictly through your baking, it wouldn't make you less than. it'd just make your magic yours―but i'm happy to hear you've improved!  ❞   and she is. even if she's disappointed she wasn't around to witness and share in any of the joy that came with his process; she knows she can only blame herself. there's also a twinge of sadness that comes with the thought of how this is proof that he not only wants to move on, he's also actively been doing so. not that she blames him, obviously. all she's ever wanted was for him to be happy, but she'd be lying if she said the thought of him finding that with someone else didn't sting.

   his comment brings another wave of bitter sweetness and while she tries to keep it from leaking onto her features, she doesn't think she's entirely successful considering the feeling only grows as he shares his dream experiences. she keeps quiet throughout, even allowing the silence to hang around after he's finished. a million apologies weigh on the tip of her tongue, though she doesn't let them leave her mouth. it'd be wrong to offer them in a way that feels as if she were doing so in passing. he deserves more than that, deserves better. once she's swallowed them down, she makes good on her end of the bargain and shares some of her own. given her habit of keeping a dream journal for writing purposes, she remembers them with ease.   ❝  mine always felt like new memories, but they were of the same stuff we usually did: us tending to the garden i insisted we make work in our apartment, sharing the jams and marmalades we made together at the end of a season with our neighbours, serenading each other with whatever song came on shuffle while we did chores, me surprising you with a huge blanket fort on date night complete with take out and a movie we never paid attention to. you know, things like that.  ❞   she even dreamed of introducing him to her dad during a trip to philly. that's a story for another day though.   ❝  and that's partly true. i mean, based on what science-minded people will say about dreams, they're reflections of our subconscious and all that. however, it's also believed that some energy vibrations can't reach you when you're awake.  ❞   empirical evidence, while important, isn't the end all, be all of everything. aurea's of the opinion that some things can't be explained, only experienced. she adds on softly,   ❝  i think we made a presence because we were both thinking of each other.  ❞

   her heart soon stutters at his reaction, nearly melting at the sight. there are no words to describe just how empty her life has been without him in it and while she already knew that to be true, there's no mistaking it now.   ❝  that's good to hear because if you tried, we already know i'm not above batting my eyes.  ❞   she says playfully. it was never a trick or something she used to get her way, she only did it because she liked to see the smile he gave every time he indulged her. that and it worked as another excuse to eat away any space that was between them when the moment occurred.   ❝  i think you're always obvious about how you feel,  ❞   something she appreciates, though maybe some of that comes from how connected they are. regardless of the months away from one another, she'd still like to include herself on the list of people who know him best. with the bitterness having finally subsided, her features now bled only love.   ❝  but as a wise man once said, it's nice to hear either way.  ❞   she quickly works to finish wrapping the bouquet he originally came for then walks back to stand in front of him to show it off. she reaches out with her free hand to touch him again as she volleys the sentiment back.   ❝  i'm glad you did too. really, really glad.  ❞   even the universe is saying they should be in each other's lives. isn't it? her hand drops as she turns away,   ❝  anyway, let's put these babies in the cool room while you tell me everything you've wanted to share.  ❞

With his eyes locked on her, he felt like his memory hadn't done her any justice. It hadn't managed to perfectly capture that beautiful smile of hers or how happy and warm it always made him feel when it was directed at him. He was so sure he could've gotten lost in it and the strong sense of home that her presence gave him if her words weren't looping distractingly around in his head. It was hard not to let I'm still going to work hard, though feed into the hope that they'd find a way to work through things, or at the very least, that they'd still be in each other's lives to some capacity in the future. "I guess it wouldn't really be fair of me to keep telling you that you didn't have to while intending to do the same thing for you." His own indirect way of saying he wanted to spend more birthdays, and time in general, with her hung in the air.

There was no use in denying she was right, she knew him too well. Sometimes it almost felt like she could read his mind, which he thought would only really be a problem if he wanted to surprise her with something. That minor problem aside, there was something special about being known that well by someone else. "Do you have to also be good at cooking to be a kitchen witch? Because I don't think I have that down quite yet." A little laughter trailed after his understatement. Even though he gave it his best effort each time, there was always something at least a little off about his cooking. It was sort of perfect then that she was much better at it. "It's improved a little bit though, I think." Any improvement to his cooking skills in the last eight months was largely thanks to Danny. Baked good in exchange for cooking tips and a little company from a friend was a pretty good deal as far as Marcus was concerned.

Whether or not it was a good idea to continue to flirt as if she didn't disappear on him wasn't a debate that crossed his mind. He was far too busy trying to make sure his body didn't follow after hers as she returned to her original position, already missing the brief closeness they shared. "I'd always consider them sweet." It was a bold statement, all things considered, but he stood by it. A thoughtful expression passed over his features as if he was busy carefully selecting what dreams to share, because of course he was going to share something, just as eager to hear what her dreams were. "It's usually a bunch of little day-to-day things, but you know with something a little off in the background." He started, not intending to leave the description so vague while also knowing a lot of the clearer details were lost after he first started to wake up. "Like one time it started back in California at some bakery I used to pass all the time and it was a whole stressful mess, but then we were suddenly talking on the phone. I don't remember anything about the conversation, just that the dream was a lot more peaceful from that point forward. Or there'd be ones where I honestly couldn't tell you what was happening in the dream prior, but they'd usually end at some point after coming home to you." Maybe there was a twinge of pain to be found in those dreams, though nothing about his voice or expression gave that away. "I just assumed you popped up in my dreams in little ways like that because I thought about you a lot." It was hard not to as it often felt like there were so many tiny reminders of her all around him or just small things he was used to immediately telling her about when they were still together.

It almost felt like he was in a dream now, hearing the words please stay. In a way, maybe he should have expected to hear something along those lines with how their conversation progressed, but it still managed to catch him a little off guard. Externally, he was quick to recover, the briefest look of surprise vanished behind a bright smile as he followed her through the shop. Internally, however, there was an odd mix of giddiness and uncertainty. Despite that confusing mixture of emotions, he knew he did want to stay there with her. "How could I say no to that argument?" Whatever errands he was supposed to be running right now hardly felt important when he could be spending his time enjoying her company a bit longer now. His eyes stay on her as he soaked in her words before dropping down to the bouquet in his hand. The question of why she left started to bubble up, but he did his best to keep it to himself for the time being seeing as though they already agreed to have that conversation at a later time. "It's nice to hear either way." Admittedly, he would've felt a little foolish if he was the only one of them missing the other this entire time. "I missed you too, if that wasn't obvious." A sheepish laugh accompanied his words, feeling like he made very little attempts to conceal that or his feelings toward her in general. "I'm really glad I decided to swing by this place today."

[thorniest-rose]

i feel like there just needs to be more of eddie obsessed with steve’s hips, thinks his subtle curve, the shape of his hips, down to his thighs is so gorgeous, especially when he’s jutting a hip out. every time he has to walk by steve he is unnecessarily grabbing his hips and letting his hands linger before moving along. murmurs a quiet “sorry”even tho he’s not. it gets steve all flustered. openly stares at his hips when his hands are on them, when he’s leaning against a wall, or carrying something on em like a box, maybe even a toddler. wants to squeeze and bite and leave finger shaped bruises on those hips.

oh my god, I've been obsessed with this ask since you sent it in and feel fic brainworms starting. I'm convinced that Eddie would be in love with Steve's hips. The two of them are roughly the same height and weight, but there are these small differences in their body shapes and one of them is that Steve has more of a curve to his hips. And as soon as Eddie sees it, this subtle feminine curve, he can't stop thinking about it. Is always staring at them when Steve wears his tight jeans, getting hard every time Steve pops his hip when he's feeling sassy. Steve has thicker thighs too, and the combination of his hips and his thighs makes Eddie's mouth fill up with spit whenever he sees him, jaw clenching, like he's going wild, snapping at the leash like a starved dog. He sees Steve getting changed one day and the sight of those hips without anything on goes straight to Eddie's dick, has him jerking off the moment he's alone, locking the bathroom door in Steve's house so he can shove his jeans down and fuck his hand, fantasising about fucking Steve's juicy fat thighs, his hands squeezing his hips until they're mottled with painful purple bruises. Imagines, just as he's about to come, biting down on Steve's hipbone until he bleeds, until he wears Eddie's bitemark like a tattoo, of the shape of his teeth being scarred into Steve's skin so he can't ever fuck anyone else without thinking about Eddie, without seeing it on his body whenever he's naked in the mirror. He wants to bruise and bite Steve until he becomes his. Because that's the way Eddie loves, and he can't love Steve unless he's branded it into his skin.

It becomes so much worse the afternoon he goes to Steve's house and Steve's chatting to a neighbour, and Steve's holding her toddler, this sweet little thing, and he's a natural, cooing at her and laughing in a way that makes his nose crinkle, and he has the kid propped so naturally on his cocked hip, like his body was meant to hold a baby. Like his hips were made for it. This sets off a whole new breed of fantasy, one Eddie never let himself indulge before. Fantasies about making Steve his pretty little housewife. Of knocking him up with his kids. And he knows it's not possible, doesn't even want kids that much, but it doesn't stop how much he wants to watch Steve mother and fuss over a baby that Eddie's given him. Or how much he wants to watch Steve's body change and grow, his stomach swollen, his thighs even thicker, hips rounded like the ripest fruit. Eddie jerks off so much thinking about he feels like he's going insane. Thinks about Steve being his knocked-up little housewife and he barely has to graze his dick before he's coming all over his hand.

And he knows Steve doesn't even like him back in that way. That it's just fantasy. A dumb fixation he needs to stop. Until the night he's leaving Steve's house after hanging out and he reaches out and squeezes Steve's hip as he says goodbye. Just a small touch, though dipping into the wrong side of too hard, too rough, heart tripping and dick chubbing up at the plump curve of it in his hand. He thinks Steve will jokingly push him away or flinch, but as he squeezes, Steve's eyes flutter closed and he moans.

[sagau-my-beloved]

um i read through all of this and realised this was quite lengthy so cw: long request haha

hello! first of all, i love all your works and i've been binge reading them the last few days- they give me so much serotonin, i can't- and secondly, i have a request! no pressure or anything, but how do you think the diffeent archons (or anyone else you want e.g. diluc, kaeya, jean for mondstadt) would be like fighting for Creator!reader's affection because they want to be the only one to spoil them? venti would definitely be more clingy (literally grabbing-onto-your-legs-so-you- won't-leave kind of clingy) whilst zhongli and ei might be more possessive in a subtler way, like taking them out on long trips in their own respective regions! maybe zhongli somehow remembers that he can literally create mora and somehow remembers to finally bring his wallet with him (only when he's with you though? childe is not happy about this.) zhongli also probably takes up most of your day just talking about osmanthus wine ngl- ei would probably get teased by miko quite a lot for worshipping you so grandly but still doesn't stop because like... obviously you're the creator, how could she stop worshiping you (for eternity you may say *wink wink*) she would definitely not hesitate closing off inazuma's borders just for you to stay there with her, only. ahaha anyways sorry this wasn't so venti focused and that this request was so long, be as liberal as you want with it :)) remember to take care of yourself and drink water! :DDDDD

Archons fighting for the readers affection:

I can't believe I have officially been branded as the Venti writer— 💀 /j

I swear I write for other characters anon, you gotta believe me, no need to apologize for requesting non-Venti stuff, I promise

And here I am about to contradict myself by putting Venti first-

Warnings: general sagau, yandere shenanigans, vague descriptions of violence, manipulation, codependency, the works

-

Venti:

• So I have to start by saying all the Archons are going to play incredibly dirty

• Venti in particular isn't the type to try and keep you somewhere, unlike the other two—

• He's the God of Freedom of course, it would simply be hypocritical to keep you locked away in his domain

• He makes up for it by going everywhere with you, though

• He's simply desperate for your attention, enough so that he will deal with being away from his precious city if you would prefer to spend your time in somewhere like Liyue

• Might question you on why you would prefer to spend your time there though, is Mondstadt not good enough? Is there anything he could do to make it better??

• Hates hates hates you talking to other people, he gets such an unpleasant feeling in his chest when your eyes aren't on him

• Not above cutting other people off and making a bit of a scene when you're not at least conscious of him being in the room

• Might let you talk to people if he gets to touch you in some way while you're doing it

• Will make a show of nuzzling into you and holding you as close as possible to show the other person they're not nearly as important to you as him

• Will complain to you as soon as the other person is no longer visible, whether they're out of earshot or not

• "It's no fair, you shouldn't need to talk to anyone but me you know. Anything you need done I can do, and they can fix their own problems without you like they did before."

• You can practically hear the bitterness in his voice

• He might actually start hiding offerings you received from others, it's not like you need worship from other people when you have him

• Would never pass other people's offerings off as his own though, believes that he's above doing that and he can provide for you himself

• He's absolutely not above slandering others though

• "You were talking with Ei for a pretty long time earlier you know... I'm surprised you still regard her so highly when she was directly responsible for so many deaths of her own people. Is that something you admire?"

• You better say a very clear and concise "no" to that statement, otherwise you might just find a certain Archon following in her footsteps

• Of course he is willing to change how he acts based on your preferences, what kind of follower would he be if he couldn't do that much for you?

• You seem to like Zhongli a lot, would you like him to be more serious?

• You and Childe we're laughing together the other day right? So is chaotic violence more to your taste? Maybe a sacrifice or two is an order—

• You always seem to smile at the mention of Thoma, he can act like a spouse too you know, you only need to ask and he would gladly cook and clean and praise you with that sweet tone of his

• Venti has quite a bit of experience pretending to be other people, so feel free to tell him exactly who you want him to be and he'll be more than happy to oblige~

-

Zhongli:

• Polite and formal as always, he would certainly never resort to such an undignified display as his fellow Archon

• Prefers to simply just consume your time instead

• Oh you're free? Well, if it's not too much of a bother, maybe you could help him with some of his responsibilities, they just never seem to stop piling up

• Of course, that would keep you in Liyue for awhile, but it's not as if you would prefer to be anywhere else, right?

• His is one of the few nations that doesn't have a ruling Archon, perhaps you could fill that spot for awhile? His people would be forever grateful

• Liyue is always so busy, so much to do, so many problems that just happened to pop up unexpectedly, really it needs you

• And who knows Liyue better than its very own former Archon?

• He's more than happy to help, he wouldn't dream of letting you tackle this stuff alone

• And if some of these many problems require a more hands on approach, maybe stopping by a particularly fancy restaurant to grab something to eat on the way isn't a horrible idea

• He promises to pay, of course he could never force you to take up such a responsibility when you're already helping him so much as it is

• Oh, look, someone needs assistance down near the docks, and the sunset is just so beautiful from there, it would simply be a shame not to stay and watch, wouldn't it?

• And you're always so tired at the end of the day, running around helping people out, the oh so merciful God you are

• You certainly wouldn't decline him picking up the slack in that department, right?

• Of course you're staying with him, no question about it, and he's just so grateful at the opportunity to take care of you like this, away from prying eyes

• You're needed in Inazuma? Well that can't be right, surely Ei can take care of it herself, you can't just abandon these people that have grown so dependent on you here

• "I strongly urge you to rethink your decision. I understand its been a while, but you're needed here much more than anywhere else. Are you not enjoying your stay? Have I not provided enough for you to want to stay?"

• It doesn't matter if you say yes or no, the idea that you're having these thoughts in the first place is concerning enough

• So Zhongli will simply double down, you wouldn't dream of leaving if there happened to be slightly more dangerous and important crises going on, right?

• Maybe certain monsters are starting to get a bit too close to town, there's a stirring in the water that could mean trouble for the future, it seems as if the integrity of some of these old buildings is waning as you now have to deal with the result of more than a few unexpected collapses

• You've got your work cut out for you, there's no way you could even dream of going anywhere with the amount of trouble Liyue is being put through

• And Zhongli is always there at the end of the day, praising and providing, helping you relax from your incredibly stressful day in all ways possible

• What would you do without him?

-

Ei:

• Now she's certainly the type to be a bit more forceful about everything

• Inazuma is more beautiful than Liyue and Mondstadt combined, it's vast and different depending on where you are, what could you hope to get anywhere else?

• She's perfectly capable of providing anything you could desire you know, from food to clothing to scenery

• And if you really want something else it can easily be imported

• Ei is the only one out of the three that's still actually recognized as an Archon, she has more authority than both of them put together, she is obviously the most capable of providing for you

• So gtting in and out of Inazuma can still be considered difficult, and it's going to stay that way

• I mean, you're are already here, no reason to make you leaving any easier

• She takes pride in making it so that you don't have to lift a finger

• Now, she wouldnt go as far as to actually lock the room you're staying in, but she does want to know where you are at pretty much every given moment

• "Your grace? Why didn't you alert me that you were going for a walk? I went to your room and you weren't there. Honestly you gave me quite a scare, tell me next time and I'll accompany you ok?"

• You're kind of like her comfort place

• She has a reputation to keep up of course, so acting even the slightest bit soft in public isn't an option

• But around you she can strip that persona for a bit, slip into the role of the one who is cared for and not the one who has to care for so many others

• As such, Ei constantly tries to come up with excuses to see you, to pull herself away from work for at least some time

• The reason she ends up defaulting to about 95℅ of the time is gifts

• There were beautiful flowers outside that she just had to give to you, a specific dish was made exactly to your liking and it was going to get cold otherwise, perhaps the things you requested from way out in Mondstadt came in recently and she felt the need to hand deliver it to you

• No matter what the current excuse is, you're going to end up seeing her more than your fair share before the day is over

• She's a bit too stubborn, or maybe just too embarrassed, to out right ask for affection, but it's not difficult to pick up on the way her touches linger, how she looks at you in a way that can barely cover the heavy desire to lay some claim to you

• It annoys her immensely whenever others decide to act clingy towards you right in front of her

• You are a guest in her domain, it's incredibly unbefitting and disrespectful for them to lay a single finger on you here

• If her looks were as sharp as her sword, their hand would be cut off rather quickly, but she does manage to restrain herself in your presence

• That person is just rather lucky they aren't alone, or it would be a different story entirely

• As much as she hates you leaving, there is no way for her to outright forbid you from doing so, and suffocating you here would only cause you to hate this place, and, by extension, her, all that much more

• Doesn't stop her from keeping tabs on you whenever you aren't in Inazuma though, she has a large network of informants

• And if it looks as if you are in even the smallest amount of danger, she won't hesitate to bring you back here herself

• Back to safety, back to a place where she can keep a closer eye on you, a place where she can personally protect you

[iamthecomet]

Com- if you’re still taking requests and should feel so inclined a lil rain Aether comfort for your fellow unholy trinitier? Love you Kay bye smooch

Anything for you, Kro. ♥

Something's up with Rain. Admittedly the water ghoul has had a harder time adjusting to life topside than any of the others. He's always been a little shy, reserved, distant. Aether tries to involve him in more things. To make it clear that he is welcome, that they want him here. But Rain always keeps his distance. He stays on the outside of ghoul piles, always in a position that means he can slip away in the middle of the night. On movie nights he sits on the floor next to Mountain, close enough to touch but not actually doing it. He curls into himself instead knees draw up to his chest, chin pressed to his kneecaps as he fixes his eyes on the screen and doesn't look at anyone else. But today is different--worse. Aether doesn't want to seem weird. He watches all of them like this. He can feel them all, his power connecting him back to the world and his pack. Despite Rain's self-imposed distance, he lives in Aether's chest, connected.

So, Aether knows when it's normal and when it isn't. Today, isn't normal. The usual calm ebb of Rain's existence feels tense, roiling, a deep sea thunderstorm.

Rain doesn't finish his tea at breakfast, or his food. He takes two bites of his lunch.

He misses every single one of his marks during rehersal in what seems less like forgetfulness and more like non-compliance. He plants himself halfway up the steps between the keyboards and the drum kit and stays there. He plays flawlessly. But he doesn't move. He doesn't look at anyone. Aether thinks about going over to stand near him, to check on him, but he watches as Dew tries to do the same thing. Aether hears the growl Rain emits from where he stands. Dew snarls back, but doesn't get any closer. And Aether doesn't push. Not yet, not here. Not in a room full of expensive equipment. Sister will have him sent back to the pit if he's the reason Rain floods the room and fries everything.

He lets it simmer. The whirling that is Rain in his chest, turns into a maelstrom. Rain doesn't say a word at dinner, he pushes his food around. He pushes his chair back just as Cumulus starts talking about the movie they're going to watch tonight, and leaves. Not bothering to look at any of them as he does. The table descends into silence.

"Does anyone know what that's about?" Aether asks. There's pain now, where Rain resides in his body. It's a dull ache, insistent. Aether looks around the table, at a series of worried faces. But no one has an answer. Even Mountain, who is usually privy to more of the water ghoul's thoughts than anyone else just shrugs. "He was fine yesterday," Dew says unhelpfully. Aether pushes his plate away. "Don't wait for me for the movie."

He goes to Rain's room first. He gets no response when he knocks. The door is unlocked when he tries it, and the room is empty. Rain's boots and coat are gone. Aether leaves the Abbey. He finds Rain at the lake. He's sitting cross-legged on the edge of the dark. Moonlight casts over his form, catching in his dark curls. Aether half expects Rain to get up and bolt as soon as he knows he's there, but he doesn't. He doesn't move at all except for his body to sag down, shoulders curling into each other as Aether gets closer.

"Rainy--"

"You don't have to do this," Rain cuts him off. His voice is flat, cold. Aether sits down next to him, their knees bumping as he does. "Do you want to talk about it?" "There's nothing to talk about." Aether looks over at him. Rain's eyes are fixed on the lake, on the reflection of the moon on its glassy surface. "I can feel it, you know." "Feel what?" Rain asks, his voice is dull like he's asking out of duty, not because he actually wants to know. "You. All of you actually. Right here," Aether rubs his chest absently like if he presses hard enough he will feel them branded into his skin. "So, I know you're lying." Rain huffs out something that could almost be a laugh, there's cynicism in it. He still doesn't look over. "I don't belong here." The words send a shock of pain through Aether's chest, like just saying them is splitting Rain open. He believes them, wholeheartedly. Aether reaches for him and then stops, unsure if that's going to help or make it worse. "You do." "You don't have to come out here and talk to me out of pity you know? I know it's all a lie. You just put up with me, all of you, because you have to. You can tell me the truth." Aether does touch him then, reaching out to put his hand on Rain's knee. He half expects Rain to pull away. He doesn't. But Aether can feel how cold he is under his hand. He can feel how hard Rain is shaking. "Rainy, we love you." Rain scoffs. "You don't have to do this to make yourself feel better, Aeth. It's fine. I can handle it."

"Look at me."

Rain turns his head to face Aether, it's slow. Aether immediately realizes why when he sees the unspilled tears in Rain's eyes.

"It would be better if you stopped pretending you wanted me--"

"We do want you," Aether squeezes Rain's knee. He puts his other hand on Rain's cheek. Rain closes his eyes. Aether can feel the way he fights against leaning into it. His heart breaks a little more. "You do belong here. We love you. You're part of our pack. You're one of us, Rain. You always have been."

"I suck at it. I don't know how to--I can't do what you all do with each other. I can't fall asleep watching movies curled up in between you all. It's not--my thing."

"That isn't a pre-requisite for us to love you. No one cares about that. Give me your hand." Aether takes his hand from Rain's leg and holds it palm up.

Rain hesitates, but listens, sliding his hand into Aether's. Aether brings them both up to his chest. He places them right over the place Aether feels Rain the strongest. Directly in the center of his chest. Aether focuses on it. He tugs on the strings that attach him to Rain. T

He doesn't have the words to make him feel better, to make him believe that he belongs here. That Aether loves him with every fiber of his existence. Rain is a part of the universe that is Aether, and the easiest way to prove that is to show him. Aether closes his eyes. He grips Rain's hand a little harder. He latches onto the power in Rain's body, and he pulls.

Rain gasps, lurching forward as if Aether pulled on him physically. And then, he goes silent. Aether knows he can feel it--that he can feel all of them, wrapped through his body like lifelines. A circuit. A solar system. "I'm...Aeth...that's--"

"I would never lie to you, Water Lily," Aether whispers.

Rains tips further forward. His forehead bumps into Aether's. All Aether can smell is petrichor. All he can feel is Rain. He opens his eyes to meet cerulean blue eyes, searching his. Rain's hand flexes over his chest. "It's so much," Rain breathes. The churning in Aether's chest has calmed, less frantic. Close like this, connected, Aether can feel Rain's awe, the shock. Aether tugs on the connection a little more, just to try to open it up a little. Rain lets him--either because he wants to know more or because he's too stunned to resist. "I don't know how much of them you can feel," Aether whispers into the small space between them. "But I can give you this, just so you're sure." It's easy to funnel a piece of himself into Rain. It's the same muscles he flexes for healing. Rain's hand grips tight at his shirt when he does it. His eyes go wide.

"Is that...you?" "Yes. So you'll know what I feel, for you. You don't ever have to doubt that I love you. That I want you. That you belong here. Magic doesn't lie."

Rain sags into him, forehead slipping off of Aethers to thump down onto his shoulder. Aether cuts the connection, and he drags Rain into his arms. Stroking one hand up into his hair, dragging through the curls as Rain shudders against him.

Aether knows it's a lot, maybe too much. Forcing that connection, shoving himself into Rain's chest like he wanted to make a home there, it's an overstep. But it was easier than trying to talk through it. Dew carries a piece of him too, from a night just like this. Aether would give himself to all of them if he could--just so they could experience one-eighth of what he does. So they could feel the strength of their bond, the permanence of it.

Rain clings to him like Aether's a liferaft. "I can still feel you." Rain rubs absently at his chest, his voice breathless against Aether's neck. Aether nods. "Now you'll never have to doubt it again."

[twitcherpated-replies]

Yeah I read it as a kid and it left a very lingering impact on me

to that end >__> I'm actually gonna elaborate/write out more rules for Desmond, some of which contradicts your response, I hope that's okay

William doesn't write the things he discovers about Desmond's affliction down. Leaving a paper trail of a secret is too basic of a rookie mistake for him to make.

Instead, he repeats the rules to himself, over and over, and has Desmond do the same, until they're branded in memory, unforgettable.

Orders can be recieved via writing, spoken word, even hand-sign. But they must be intentionally directed at Desmond; general orders to a crowd don't promp a response, and a written memo intended for someone else diverted to Desmond is just words on paper.

Desmond can't give himself orders, but he can modify the orders he's been given, to an extent. If Bill tells him to run a mile, Desmond can delay following the order far past the obvious intention, telling himself that he *will* run the mile, he fully intends to, just *not yet.* There is some discomfort, but it's manageable.

The trick, Desmond finds, is that he has to actually mean it. His dad wants him to use logic loopholes and finicky turns of phrase to wriggle out of orders, but it's not like that. He can't hear someone say "Go away, Desmond," and pretend they didn't mean right away just so he can wait until they say "Come here" again. He has to actually *intend* to go away, in a second, a minute, whatever. He can't just be waiting on a counter command; he has to *believe* that what he's doing actually falls under the intent of the order.

He tries to tell his dad that, but William isn't really all that keen on the whole *intentions* aspect of all this. It seems kind of obvious to Desmond, from what he's been able to find out about Apples, the thing his dad was experimenting with. They ran on intent, yeah? You could make someone do what you *wanted* them to do. So now Desmond's all wrapped up in what other people want.

They didn't experiment a lot with other people giving him orders before he left the Farm, since his dad wasn't going to let anyone else know. But it was enough to figure out that how much someone meant an order changed how it affected Desmond.

Most orders were this sort of soft, aching burn that built slowly over time. A few minutes, maybe. And then Desmond would have time to try to figure out how to get someone to counter command it, or to accompolish it in a non-suspicious way, or whatever he had to do.

It was only his dad's orders that had him gasping almost immediately. His dad, his trainer, his mentor--in any role, Bill expected total and immediate obdience from him, and it carried through with Desmond's condition. Most orders faded in intensity with time, even if they didn't have an endpoint built in: Be good, stay quiet, don't touch that. Depending on how serious the person was, how much they meant it, he'd be free of it when they left, a few hours from then, a week. Because no one expected to be listened to forever.

No one, except his dad.

It was his dad's idea, to find out what happened if he resisted an order completely. Desmond knew, in the way a twelve-year-old knows, what would happen, if he didn't follow directions and just let that pain grow and grow and grow: he would die.

"Don't be overdramatic," his dad said. (Desmond didn't think he was being overdramatic, but still he felt a burn in his throat, cautioning him against saying anything more.) "We can't know what will happen until we test it in a controlled environment." (My existence is a controlled environment, Desmond doesnt say.)

The first try is simple. "Hold your breath as long as you can." Bill doesn't mean it, that much, since it's part of a test. So it's a slower burn, as Desmond keeps breathing, big, deliberate gulps of air, getting quicker and shallower as time progresses. He tries to disobey, he does. But it gets all weird, when the longer he disobeys, the less he can breathe, and he knows that's the point, which means he kinda *is* holding his breath, and in the way his dad meant, even.

So. The first test is a failure.

It's a few weeks before they try again. There are other tests in the meantime. But this one, this one's important. They need to know what the consequences of failure are, his dad says. And they have to be careful finding them out, because he doesn't want to hurt Desmond.

(Desmond hurts all the time, now. But he knows what his dad means. He doesn't want to *really* hurt him, doesn't want to *affect his performance*, to *damage* him. Because he cares about him. Right?)

So he takes his time, devising a test that will really make Desmond reach his limit, that he can still be pulled back from.

It's very simple: between his two hands, Desmond holds an inflated red ball, about the size of his head. William tells him, "Drop the ball." Desmond doesn't,

until he does.

He doesn't make it as far as actually passing out. Not this time, or with any of the tests his dad devises. He feels like he can see the thoughts ticking behind his dad's eyes, the ways he could give Desmond a more impossible order, one that wouldn't be so easy to fulfill when Desmond was too wracked with pain to even think. One he was destined to fail, just to finally see what the fail state was, to know for sure.

He doesn't. But Desmond thinks, given enough time, he might decide it's worth the risk, someday.

Every night--or, as the novelty wears off and William goes back to a more distant parenting, every night that William is home--he orders Desmond to keep his condition a secret. "Never Tell anyone about this. Don't try to give them hints or help them guess, don't confirm it if they *do* guess. No one can ever know besides you and I." Every night, layering order upon order upon order, until it gives Desmond heartburn to even think about what it might be like for someone else to know.

It stays with him, after he runs away.

He wears earplugs pretty much all the time, when he first runs. Casual orders aren't that strong, but he's twitchy and scared and has no idea what to expect, and it feels a lot safer to put a barrier between himself and anything anyone might have to say. He gets a cheap pair of headphones and a CD player from someone at a greyhound station and alternates between music and cotton-stuffed silence.

He loosens up, eventually, in Chicago. He can't stay isolated forever, and he needs to be able to eavesdrop if he's going to figure this city out. And it's weirdly, not as big an issue as he thought it would be. People just don't really give him orders. Well, move out of the way, and move along, sure. But mostly people leave him alone. And when they do talk to him, there's not the expectation of command he'd grown used to, from his dad, sure, but also every assassin, that edge of authority, of expecting to be obeyed.

He keeps the CD player, gets better headphones, earplugs that aren't just wads of cotton, finds his way to New York and, years later, behind a DJ booth at a night club called Bad Weather. It's, Good. Better than he ever expected for himself, sixteen and scared, wondering how long it would be before he choked to death on refusal. He knows how to defuse things, knows how to delay when he can't do that, has sorta-friends, we work together and bitch about the same things anyway, that tell him to just breathe, relax, forget whatever it is and take fifteen in the alley behind the bar. They don't know why he needs to hear those words sometimes, but they give them anyway, and he gives back whatever he can. It's good. It's good.

It's one of those fifteen minute breaks, trying to shake off a stranger's invitation to join her in the bathroom, breathe and forget, breathe and forget--that Abstergo grabs him.

A bag over his head, muscled physiques on either side, and a sneering voice, "Don't make this any harder than it needs to be. Come with us, and you wont get hurt."

Desmond swallows down resentment, thick in his throat, and obeys.

time for another "are you familiar with":

Are you familiar with Ella Enchanted? because the idea just popped in my head of, William Miles, in his goal to make his son a better weapon, does something foolish. The assassins don't have any POE, not after the Purge, but they know about them, have studied the technology and made notes when they've had them in their possession.

William tries to create a POE, or at least, emulate the effects of one.

He doesn't start with human trials. He's not that wasteful. But the Apple in particular is *meant* to be used on humans, so it was always going to get there, eventually.

And maybe it was selfish of him. He can see how skilled his son is, silent, observant, a quick learner. He knows, *knows* that given time, Desmond can be the best of them. Can you blame a father for wanting his son to be even better than that?

But things go wrong, spectacularly so. The lab is a ruin; he'll have to start over from scratch, if he even chooses to.

Desmond isn't seriously hurt, thank goodness. He feels guilty, promises himself he'll put more safeguards in place, next time.

Only. Something about Desmond has changed. The boy, always eager to please, becomes even more so. William's barely issued an order before Desmond is seeing to it, at most a grimace of complaint.

Bill's experiment worked, in a way. The power of the Apple, replicated with human technology. Just, not in the way he intended.

It takes longer than it should, to realize something is wrong. To realize *what* is wrong.

When Desmond, eyes downcast, says, "I think there's something wrong with me," Bill thinks he's trying to avoid training. And sure enough, when he tells Desmond to get to it without any more complaining, Desmond does. But a few days later, nervously flexing his fingers and looking up at his father, something defiant in the expression, he says, as though trying to convince himself, "I'm not complaining. I'm just making a statement. I think something is wrong with me."

William raises his brow. "And what do you want done about it?" The boy needs to learn to say what he means. If he thinks he needs to see a doctor, he should say so. There won't be room in the field for imprecision.

To his surprise, tears well in Desmond's eyes, mouth twisting into a pout.

"Crying wont get you anywhere," he says. "Say what you mean."

"If I don't do whatever you say, I get hurt," Desmond blurts, all in a rush. His tears brim over and start rolling down his cheeks as he points in the center of his chest, "A hurt starts here, and it gets w-worse and worse, until it's l-l-like I c-can't breathe--"

"Stop crying," Bill snaps, and Desmond head snaps back like he's been punched. "You're not a baby, there's no need to talk like one."

The tears keep coming, Desmond brushing them away with a clenched fist, but he's not saying anything more, looking up at Bill with pleading, desperate eyes. A little whimper escapes him, and a wince as he clutches at his chest, where hed already been pointing, and it snaps together in a second, Bill going grey as a possibility blooms in his mind.

He doesn't counter his order right away. He waits a second. Two. Five. Ten. Thirty.

(He tells himself he was still putting it together. It was an outlandish proposal, and it took him time to understand. Somewhere, in the place he shovels his guilt into a compost pile from which arrogance grows, he knows that he waited on purpose. Just to see.)

Desmond falls to his knees, writhing, making noises of pain but no words, wheezing and crying, snot dripping from his nose, and something in Bill snaps, a switch flipping from fascination to horror and he reaches out for his son, pulling him into his arms, "It's alright, you're alright, breathe, breathe Desmond, you can cry, you can do whatever you need to do, just breathe."

It is the start of a whole new kind of training.

He finds the parameters of his son's new limitations. What triggers the response, exactly. If it can be avoided. How long Desmond can resist it, and what the consequences of doing so are. How to mitigate the effects of disobedience, to delay pain for when it can be managed. What happens when conflicting orders are given. If there are limits to what Desmond has to obey.

And he orders Desmond, in the strictest possible terms, to never, *ever* tell *anyone* about his weakness, lest they take advantage of it.

Because Desmond will still be an Assassin. Bill had his doubts, at first. But though it's a serious flaw, it can be managed. And in exchange, Desmond is well on his way to being everything William thought he would be. With his condition leaving no room to hold back, no room to doubt, only pushing and pushing and pushing himself to the milestones William *knows* he can reach, Desmond will be the best of them.

(and then Desmond runs away at 16 because literally *having* to follow every order your father gives you is a fucking nightmare, and spends 9 years unable to tell anyone the most important truth about himself *and* trying to avoid anyone figuring it out *and* avoiding running into any assassins because all they'd have to do to bring him home is tell him to go, and his dad won't let him get away a second time.)

I watched it… like… yeaaarrsss ago. I never read the book though XD.

Okay, so in this setup, Desmond’s ‘curse’ comes from the failed experiment to create a POE.

Not gonna lie, this sounds like it could have Evangelion-proportion of holy shit if we tip it to the other side of ‘William Miles recreating POE using Desmond’ but let’s focus on the idea that Desmond must do whatever is ordered of him.

So, in this setup, we need to get the limitation of Desmond’s curse: He feels pain when he disobeys this curse and his chest starts to hurt until he can’t breathe anymore.

What happens when he loses consciousness? Does the curse stop or will it continue to torment him until he dies?

If we go for the first ‘outcome’, this means Desmond could find a loophole by simply waiting until he faints. If it’s the latter then we can have our angst where Desmond contemplates if an order he does not like will be the final and only order that he will ever say no to.

Of course, we do have the ‘Desmond could order himself to no longer obey any orders’ to fall back into and we have an actual reason as to why Desmond never thought of ordering himself.

By the time he had left the Farm, he would have been so frightened by the power this ‘curse’ had on him that the idea that orders he gives himself might be something he had never done.

“I can do this” is a phrase normally uttered but not for Desmond. His own father had erased that phrase in his mind and all he knows is “You must do this”.

So, for him, he would never have thought of ordering himself even by accident and he would definitely try to keep to himself.

Maybe instead of being a bartender, Desmond lives a more isolated life.

He used the training he received (a training that was more painful than it should have been) and lived his life like a ghost, stealing what he needs when he knows no one would be there. A fear that had been ingrained in him when a security guard once tried to catch him by saying “stop!” and his body refused to move until the guard ordered something else.

Another possible solution is a character of your choice who is in love with Desmond ordering Desmond to “only listen to my orders!”. It’s a questionable solution but it will definitely be one that gives us the possibility of a… ‘hotter’ interpretation of his curse. XD

Although…

Soooooo…

You wanna read about an idea that’s quite screwed up and angsty?

Of course you do.

What if…

Desmond’s curse is auditory-only and Desmond realized it when Bill gave him an order via a small note? Any orders given to him that he didn’t hear didn’t count and Bill never realized it because Desmond still did as the note instructed.

But Desmond knew…

He knew that he found a loophole.

Now, his upbringing was fucked up but he never thought of harming himself. He has the self-preservation of a moth close to a flame, sure, but deliberately endangering himself had never crossed his mind.

That’s the reason why he chose to run away.

Because he wants to live.

But then he sees how dangerous it was for someone like him to be around people so he…

Drowns the sounds out.

Using every money he has, he buys the best headphones he could and just keeps listening to music.

He didn’t want to risk the possibility that lyrics could be used to command him so he only listens to music with no vocals, the louder the better.

Until he irreparably damages his ears. But he keeps going, keeps listening…

Because he didn’t realize that he was damaging his ears.

He just thought the headphones were damaged and that’s why his hearing wasn’t as good as before.

So he listened with higher and higher volumes, even tweaking his headphones so they would blast out music louder than they should be capable of.

Until…

Desmond could only hear the silence.

And that’s when he realized…

He was free from his curse.

Tears fell from his eyes and he could not hear the sobs that left his lips.

Were they happy tears?

They were supposed to be happy tears.

So why… why does his chest hurt so much?

[cherrydreamer]

(@mourntheantagonist Happy Early Birthday! I hope you have an amazing birthday week!🎂This little present of a ficlet was entirely inspired by your Billy Hargrove's Exploration of Beauty series and I hope you didn't mind me dabbling in your universe (cause you KNOW how much I adore those fics!))

💅

It all starts when Claudia Henderson decides to try her hand at being an Avon Lady, as a way of earning a little extra money for the holidays.

She's definitely not the most glowing rep for the brand, and she doesn't go in for all the parties and the home makeovers, but she's no stranger to brushing on a little mascara and a bit of lipstick, and there's something about her more natural look that seems to resonate with the less glossy of the Hawkins' housewives. And, more importantly for her customers, their deliveries always come with a few free samples of Claudia's baked goodies, and a little helping of local gossip.

Although there's one customer who doesn't partake in those extra little perks. Susan Hargrove. Max's mom. As much as Claudia would like to get to know her, Susan's booklet and neatly filled out order form are returned by Billy whenever he drops Max off, and he's also the one who picks up her packages, taking the paper bag with a couple of shiny blue tubes and compacts and insisting that Susan asks him to do it to save Claudia the hassle.

It's strange. There's something about it Claudia can't quite work out. Because no matter how many lip glosses or eyeliners or nail varnishes that Susan orders, her look never seems to change. And it gets stranger still when she runs into Susan at the grocery store, and takes the opportunity to ask her whether she liked the surprisingly bold lipstick she ordered recently, only for Susan's face to screw up in confusion before she shakes her head and says she's not ordered anything for the last few months.

Claudia smoothes it over. Apologises and says she must be getting muddled. But as she carries on shopping, it all falls into place. Billy must be buying these things for a girlfriend. A sweetheart. It's romantic really, not the kind of thing she'd have thought would cross the mind of a boy like him. But hey, mustn't judge. And everyone gets a little bit silly when they're in love. And he's not harming anyone, so she lets it slide. Keeps up the pretence for the next few orders. Hands over 'Susan's' packages with little more than a smile. But eventually she cracks, she can't help it, she's curious, and so the next time Billy comes to collect an order, Claudia gives him a knowing wink when she hands it over and says "I know this isn't for Susan, sweetie."

But her cheery smile drops at the expression that floods Billy's face, the way his face goes pale, his eyes big and wide and full of fear, and she wonders if he's embarrassed at being caught out. So she forces that smile back onto her face, and tries to reassure him. She reaches out, taking his trembling hand in hers, an ache in her heart when he flinches back from her gentle touch. And she knows there's something more here. Something bigger than she thought.

"Are you selling it?" She asks, trying desperately to think of any other explanation, "To make a little money for yourself? That's OK, hon, it's clever, actually. Maybe we could go into business together, you could-"

But Billy just shakes his head, clutching the package to his chest.

"Oh," Claudia sighs, "But you're getting it for someone else, right? A girlfriend?"

Billy shakes his head, and Claudia tries again,

"Oh! Is it for Max? Oh honey, does her Mom not want her wearing it? Or, well, her stepdad? He seems a little..." She trails off before she reveals her true feelings about a certain Neil Hargrove, "Maybe I should have a word with Susan. I know I don't have a daughter, but I know it's nothing for her to be worried about. Lots of girls want to experiment with their looks at her age. It's normal."

And that's when Billy absolutely breaks. When his face crumbles and his lip quivers and he shoves the package back into Claudia's hand as the truth comes spilling out before he can hold it back.

"It's mine, OK? It's for me. All that shit in there, I've been getting it for me."

And Claudia gets it then. And ok, it is definitely something more, something a little bigger. But it's nothing she can't handle. She didn't spend a year working as a seamstress for a Parisian drag bar without learning a few things about life. So she makes sure that her smile doesn't even falter, and she taps a finger on the parcel in her hands, "Well then," she says, voice light and breezy, "In that case, let me swap out that eyeshadow. The silver is nice but, honestly honey? The gold is going to be much more your colour."

[zz-chikorita]

Are any of the characters in your Jolly Rogers series wimps when it comes to watching horror? Is anyone a movie buff, or perhaps REALLY into something like the MCU, or a movie snob in some way? If they had a movie night, would they argue over what movie to watch, or all want to see the same thing?

Leon. Is. The. Biggest. Horror. Wimp.

After watching something scary, he can't be by himself and thus will usually have Charizard out with him everywhere he goes, including within his own flat. If he's having trouble sleeping, Char will sleep with the front half of his body on Leon like he's a big ol' weighted blanket.

Leon's favorite thing to do was to put his hands on his hips and puff out his chest, getting all up into Rai's face and forcing their chests to touch. Of course, to anyone else, it looks like they're doing some sort of manly posturing, but in reality, Leon is communicating to him something along the lines of "You got me worked up you rat bastard now find us some privacy and take responsibility."

Also, Raihan loves scary movies, so Lee would watch them with him and then get extremely clingy for the next couple days; he always had to be close by Rai, leaning against him, arms wrapped around him, or curling up in his lap when they're in private. In public, if they walk together, they would always be brushing shoulders.

They've actually had a whole system in place for a long time of various gestures and excuses to touch each other in public that, from the outside, simply look like friendly rivalry. Things like a pat on the shoulder, a light shove, pulling Leon's snapback or Rai's headband down over their eyes. It's all an unspoken code for "I am with you," "I'm still here," "I love you."

Ah, but I've gotten off track.

Guzma is indifferent to horror. He'll watch it cuz Plums enjoys it, but it doesn't really bother him. He's really not a big movie guy in general. There's maybe a few he really likes, but for the most part he doesn't care. He blames it on his shit attention span- courtesy of his many concussions. Guzma gets bored too easily and usually ends up falling asleep during anything they watch. However, the big bad boss man does love himself some cartoons. He used to be embarrassed about it but now he don't give a fuck. If there exists a pokemon world equivalent of Ed, Edd, n Eddy, he would watch the shit out of that cuz I feel like that would be exactly his brand of comedy.

Really the only other thing he'll watch is nature documentaries. Of course, they have to be about bugs. If it's about anything else, he'll fast forward until he gets to the bug stuff. Strangely, he still gets embarrassed from time to time about watching them.

Plumeria is extremely well read and she's also very well versed in the art of film. She loves watching and picking apart movies and watching horrible thrillers or scifi to laugh about the horrible sfx. She loves the MCU just so she can tear it apart for its lackluster writing and gratuitous use of cgi.

Guzma will sit and watch all that stuff with her and listen to her go on and on about it. He doesn't follow half of it, but he listens anyways because he knows how much she loves it.

Based on his personality and demeanor, what movie, or genre of movie, do y'all think he'd pick in this situation? Scifi? Comedy? Drama? Something sophisticated to try and impress Leon? Maybe something scary to try and get the champ to grab onto him in a dark room? Whaddya think?

Just some other quick thoughts on smaller characters: 'Lani loves crime dramas and standup comedy. A. and B. like watching YouTube let's plays together. Charizard enjoys sitting and watching footage of battles with Leon. Golisopod won't watch TV, he'd rather go sit somewhere quiet and meditate. Nanu watches the news and occasionally a telenovela he can't even understand because that's all that's on when he can't sleep at like 4am.

Whenever Team Skull as a whole has a movie night there is so much arguing. Plumeria is obviously the mediator while Guzma is pretty indifferent, unless it's like, a really shitty Adam Sandler movie. It sometimes, but not always, ends with Guzma slamming his fist down and picking one of whatever they're all arguing about so they can all just shut up and watch something. If Leon were to join them on a movie night, all the grunts would be wanting him to watch their favorite movies and asking him what he's seen and what he hasn't. Guzma actually starts getting jealous and ends up putting in effort and picking out one of the few "big boy" (<- Plumeria's words) movies he likes.

[eenasbabysmom]

Fic ideas that keep me in a fog at inappropriate times throughout the day: Part 3

Zhancheng De-Aging!AU

10 years after the death of WWX, JC and LWJ clash on a night hunt with their own group of disciples. JC ends up taking a curse from a demonic cultivator that would have hit LJY (why is it deaging? I don't know-the demonic cultivator is bad at his job-he's looking for nonlethal methods of getting rid of the threat posed by cultivators when they interrupt him because he's actually just super interested in necromancy as like a field of study and not as a grab for power-the mad scientist without a cause/clue-IDK, I want it to be a stupid reason).

ANYWAY-Lan Wangji ends up with two groups of juniors and one baby sect leader who doesn't like anyone but Jin Ling and refuses to let anyone else touch him. JC is de-aged to about three years of age and calls JL Ling-gege and LWJ stupid-face-gege and LWJ doesn't WANT to take them all to Cloud Recesses, but SL Jiang is cursed for protecting one of his charges and also the Lans are very good at curse breaking. The Jiang disciples not down with going to CR, wanting to go back to LP, but LWJ pulls rank and they all end up going, but they're miffed about it and are planning on being absolutely vile while they are 'unlawfully detained'.

(LJY absolutely scandalized that anyone would talk about Hanguang Jun like that, right in front of his salad, but also feeling guilty mostly because Jin Ling can't go two minutes without declaring this whole thing is Jingyi's fault so when the Jiang disciples also start referring to LWJ as stupid-face-gege under their breaths where he can hear them he wants to yell at them but feels like he can't and ends up looking very constipated).

Cut to Jiang disciples being loud in the CR, because they are not 'guests' of Lan sect, but rather 'political prisoners' and when Lan juniors demand to know how they came to that conclusion, Jiang disciples challenge them to duels rather than answering. Jiang disciples lining up in a random courtyard and running back and forth, one end to the other, screaming they have to keep up their training regiment or SL Jiang will break their legs when he recovers. SL Jiang is three years old and nods very solemnly in agreement when this is shouted where he can hear. LWJ trying to lock himself in the Jingshi to avoid responsibility for all this but LQR forcing him to take charge of the Jiang disciples because he's the one who insisted on bringing them here and LWJ wants to know what Shufu would have done with twenty thirteen years and a cursed not-a-toddler and then LXC announces that he's contacted the Jiang sect Head Disciple who is coming to take charge of the Jiang juniors and check up on JC.

The Lan Cursebreakers are not impressed by the curse that struck SL Jiang. It's exasperatingly messy-not difficult to straighten out but not something they can do all at once. It's requires several stages of curse breaking over the course of nearly a month. It also requires their particular brand of curse breaking so he has to stay there. Head Disciple Jiang Meixiu wants to know what will happen if SL Jiang is just taken back to LP and they assure her that he wouldn't die or anything, but the curse will wear off naturally only after a long time (we're talking years). JL is very distressed, cries that he can't have a baby for a jiujiu for YEARS and it is very quickly decided that SL Jiang will stay for treatment. Jiang Meixiu takes her juniors out of CR (the sheer RELIEF at their departure is palpable and makes said juniors very proud that even if they couldn't help their SL, they were still a nuisance to people SL doesn't like). JL also has to leave because he is due in Lanling and LXC takes him as they come up with some sort of acceptable story for why JC is not dropping off his nephew like he always does (one that JGY will know automatically is a lie but the more he pulls at that thread, the less he gets because none of his imagined plots have anything to do with toddlerizing the scariest sect leader in the jianghu).

LQR is still not impressed by the chaos that has overtaken the CR; refuses to let JC stay with the younger children in the nursery because that would raise too many questions. Drops a toddler JC in LWJ's lap and says the Lan equivalent of "you break it you buy it" before leaving. Both toddler!JC and LWJ are unimpressed with this, but LWJ does know how to take care of a small child, has LSZ's childhood things stored in the Jingshi. He does not like sharing these items with SL Jiang, especially not since the toddler version still insists on calling him stupid-face-gege. LWJ prepares for a trying month.

First application of curse breaking results in JC growing overnight. He goes to bed three years old and wakes up about six/seven. This JC has manners, no longer calls LWJ stupid-face-gege, and also wants his parents and/or his older sister and/or his three puppies. LXC and LQR arrive to deliver a 'not technically a lie' explanation to the young sect leader who thinks he's still a sect heir and then again abandon his care to LWJ. JC at this stage is a very quiet child, working hard to gain LWJ's approval by obeying the rules he sometimes quotes at JC. LWJ occupies his time by giving JC 'lessons', reading/writing whatever it is that age group learns in Gusu Lan sect. He 'rewards' JC for good work with trips to the bunny meadows. JC is hungry for praise, is breathless when LWJ gives it in short phrases and encouraging nods. LWJ thinking LSZ was once like this, but not this eager. Speak of the devil, the thirteen year old and LJY arrive to check on things. JC in awe of the new arrivals because they HAVE SWORDS (LWJ also has a sword, but to JC he is a fully grown adult and therefore it isn't as exciting as two older CHILDREN with SWORDS). LWJ sending JC with the two for some time in the afternoons to take a break himself. One day LSZ and LJY returning JC with somber looks-explains that JC explained some things about his home life that made the other two feel bad.

("He said he likes it here, because you're happy to teach him and happy he's learning," LSZ confesses, "and at home, his parents send him to tutors and don't really pay attention when he tries to demonstrate what he's learnt unless there's something wrong with it. He says you find less things wrong with his work than his parents-and then he said he would want to live here forever if only his jiejie could come-oh, and his puppies too,")

Next stage of treatment brings JC to about 9/10 years of age and this JC constantly asks for WWX. This causes a negative reaction from LWJ, who becomes cold to JC whenever he asks. LQR and LXC appear again to explain away his predicament with another 'not a lie' lie, and LWJ is still in charge of JC. One day he asks if JC really wants WWX with him, and JC gets defensive when he argues that he does because "WWX is my shixiong and it's weird to be here without him-we do everything together, we're always together". This is the worst time that they spend together.

Next stage of treatment and JC is about 14. LQR deems him old enough for a version of the truth. They explain that JC is actually older than he appears, that there is a curse upon him that he has been sent to CR to break. This JC is the most rule-abiding version of himself. He accepts the explanation and reasoning for why more info is not forthcoming without a complaint. His first question afterwards is again about WWX ("Wait-what about WWX? Is he all right?" "Why wouldn't he be?" "Well, I was cursed on a nighthunt, right? He would have been there with me-did something happen to him? Why isn't he here?"). LXC makes an offhand comment on how if the sect heir is disposed, where would the Head Disciple be required to be (LXC, not technically lying sucessfully for 30 plus years). This version of JC is given back his sword and LWJ mostly occupies him with training and sparring. He gets too aggressive one day, when JC is insistent on writing to his family back home and WWX in particular, keeps mentioning WWX casually all the time in complete ignorance to his own part in Wei Ying's death. LWJ has a moment of weakness and JC runs off scared. JC is gone for half a day before they find him trying to get around the Lan wards to go home.

("You're lying about WWX-I know you are! He would never leave me here like this, on my own!"

The utter certainty in his voice makes even LQR kind of sad.)

JC refuses to spend more time in the Jingshi. The next stage of treatment happens and JC is almost identical to what he looked like before the curse, fewer muscles, narrower soldiers. He's about 20 and there is a shadow of ever present anxiety in his eyes. He goes through all the explanations without interruption and asks to speak with LWJ alone, after.

("Something happened to him, didn't it?" There are tears in the young sect leader's eyes. "I knew it would-I tried so hard to bring him home but he wouldn't leave them and the Jins wouldn't leave him. I thought when we first went back to LP he would get better-but he never did. You know, I hate that he's run off with these Wen dogs, whatever the reason-but sometimes it makes me a little relieved. He was drinking himself to death back home and I didn't know how long before he either left or ended up dead-my shixiong never came back from the war. But after he took them to that place, whenever I go, he seems more like himself again. I hate that he couldn't do that at home, but that he could do it at all seemed like a prayer answered. But they're not going to leave him alone-they'll never just let him be. He won't understand that-no matter how much I try to explain it. Maybe he already knows and he doesn't care. Maybe he'd really rather be with them than be with us. I just wish I knew what I had done to drive him away-then maybe I could reverse and find a way to bring him back. Have you seen him, lately Lan-er-gonzi? He always seems happy to talk to you-maybe you've had better luck."

LWJ doesn't have an answer to that.)

This is the longest phase since he first cursed. LWJ can barely stand the sight of him. JC responds to his aversion with scalding poisonous baiting. LQR bans them from the training grounds for fear that someone will be killed or horribly maimed. They fight all the time regardless, fuming asides and calculated accusations. LWJ hasn't spoken so many words at one time in his whole life. There is no leaving an argument with JC unless LWJ can leave him utterly lost and desolated. In the midst of one of these verbal brawls, JC slips up about losing his core and then shuts up, refusing to say another word. LWJ is infuriated by all this, because before JC wouldn't shut up and now he won't engage and there's something vital and important there that JC is hiding from LWJ and LWJ wants to pull that thing from JC's chest with his bare hands. His mind makes up scenarios, fed by so many suspicions, and JC barricades himself in his guest rooms to avoid LWJ.

The next stage of treatment arrives and LWJ almost tries to delay it because he wants answers. JC ages again, but ends up seemingly catatonic. He doesn't move, doesn't speak, just stares into the distance, slumped over if they try to make him sit or eyes fixed on the ceiling if they leave him be. Alarmed, they write to Jiang Meixiu and nothing changes in the meanwhile. JMX arrives and sits with her SL for a long time before coming out and explaining.

"He was like this before, right after Nightless City. He wouldn't move, wouldn't speak-like he was gone even though his body was here. We couldn't even get him to eat or drink. We thought he had been cursed; Healer Tan asked us how much death and loss we expected a twenty year old to hold. We thought he would die like that, and maybe he would have-but Madam Jin arrived one day with JL crying in her arms. She slapped him and told him that her friend's last living child would have to live because he had a duty to his sister's child. She put JL in his lap and went back to Koi Tower, and I am grateful everyday that she did because it finally brought him back."

The next treatment is the final one. LWJ hasn't been back to JC's room in the healing pavilion for days. He couldn't stand to see the blankness on a face that was normally so violently expressive. He didn't want to see the toll of all these years on a man he is determined to hate because all this anger and negativity from losing Wei Ying has to go somewhere and JC FAILED Wei Ying by his own admission-but there is also that secret that he slipped up about, that LWJ doesn't know the full truth of, that his mind keeps poking at and finding no satisfying resolution.

(There are so many clues, but his mind won't put them together in a satisfactory way. Between 14 and 19, three wounds appeared, marring the formerly smooth expanse of JC's chest and shoulder. They are ugly, twisted things. There are 4 or 5 of them-his back twinges in sympathy before his mind is able to quiet the impulse.

JC had been rubbing at those wounds when he made that slip-up, alerted LWJ to the fact that there was a secret he carried, a secret probably tied to those scars, and it was MADDENING that LWJ didn't know, couldn't force an answer-that three weeks ago JC was 6 and thought the world of LWJ and then he was 14 and scared of LWJ, and now he is himself and he is back to hating LWJ).

JC thanks the Lan sect for their help, pledges LP will always be open to Lan sect members whenever they needed help in recompense for their aid in this time. LXC is sectleader-ly back at JC, recommends he send a letter to JL before heading out, and there is an uncomfortable stare-off between LWJ and JC that goes on for way too long before JC and JMX finally leave CR for LP.

Months later, another night hunt. The mad scientist demonic cultivator has now created curses that bind a cultivator to the nearest thing that he hates/dislikes. LWJ and JC are STUCK together (LJY is stuck to like five different Jiang juniors). This time they go to LP, where Jiang healers have been brushing up on their curse-breaking abilities. LSZ and the other Lan juniors are handed off to Yu Xiuying (3rd ranked Jiang senior), and she tries her best to corrupt them. LWJ is too frustrated with his current predicament to pay close enough attention (LAN JUNIORS ARE RUNNING AROUND THE PIERS AND SCREECHING AS THEY JUMP INTO THE LAKES AND LAN JINGYI IS THE INFIRMARY FOR CURSE BREAKING AND NOT ALLOWED TO JOIN).

LWJ is a bitchy king ("Of all the demonic cultivators you've trapped and killed-why is it this one that you refuse to use deadly force against?"

"Demonic cultivator? He raised two fierce corpses, and then only to see if he could, and at most had they do heavy lifting for a couple of days before putting them back to rest. He moved on from necromancy to alchemy months ago-he's not a demonic cultivator. He's a bloody nuisance! His whole purpose in life is to invent incapacitating but stupid curses so he can go on with his stupid, dangerous experimentation. I was only on his tail because the idiot is trying to replicate the process of creating a yao in a laboratory setting-FOR SCIENCE, he says! Irresponsible, reckless, and damned certain of his own superior intellect and morality-do you know how many times I've tested him to make sure he isn't WWX come back to life? Because if WWX was going to come back to life, I fully believe his first bit of business would be trying to annoy me to death!"

LWJ cannot deny the possibility without lying, so stays silent but slightly murderous in countenance). This curse is easier to break-the Lan are back on the way to CR within a week. JC sends them off with a "let's never do this again, okay Hanguang Jun?" and LWJ leaves with a "do your job better then" and only JMX stops a swordfight from breaking out so early in the morning.

And that's it-that would be the fic. There would be a sequel, where they end up fucking a lot about a bunch of different things, but mostly about that secret LWJ wants to know and that JC refuses to acknowledges exists ("Secrets? Why would I need to keep secrets, Hanguang Jun? I am a man of honour").

[wolvesandpetals]

Loki x Sylvie Post-Finale Fanfiction (Angst, Rated Teen) Part 2 of 2

Part 1 is here:

She never knew it would hurt this much when the person she loves is right in front of her, but she can't reach out and touch him; when she is still her, he is still him, but everything else has changed, like an invisible lever in an old theatre changing the scenery in the background, bringing them both to the part of the play where they are hopelessly lost.

[[MORE]]

All it took was one single moment, one single decision, and everything feels irrevocably broken now. It makes her contemplate on the true nature of relationships, how fragile they are, and how easy it is to shatter them- and her.

The smoke is slowly clearing, and all that seems to be left is a man who is doing his best to keep his distance from her, physically and emotionally.

She can tell from the way he stands with his arms crossed, or his fists clenced when his hands are by his side, that he really doesn't want to hold her hand. How can something so simple as the touch of his fingers be so vital to her existence that it feels like something has been ripped out from inside her?

She wants to reach out and touch him, but she is scared that if he pulls away outright, any hope of reconciliation that she still has left will shatter into pieces.

And she really needs this hope. It's the only thing she still has left. It's the only thing that keeps her going.

---

He looks like a man with a mission.

They spent quite a long time together, running from the TVA, running towards the citadel at the end of time, hoping to achieve their goal of bringing down the one behind the curtains.

But that was her mission, and he was there for her. She was the one behind the wheels, he was the one keeping the sails afloat.

Now it's different. Now he has a defined goal, a glorious purpose.

She's seeing him in a whole new light now, and not just because he has switched to Asgardian leather and metal armors.

As far as she is concerned, she is better off doing it all alone. One woman army, nobody to get in her way, nobody to screw up her plans. Nobody to blame her if it all goes to shit.

Or so it was, until two months ago, when Mobius decided to enlist her help in fixing the multiversal madness.

She has never really worked with people before, and it's weird, to say the least. She never considered herself a team player, but she is finding herself hating the idea less and less lately.

And she swears it has nothing to do with him. Not the fact that they are working together, and seeing his face first thing in the morning brings her a sense of calm that she quite can't explain. Or the fact that their rooms are next to each other and it makes her feel secure enough to finally get some rest at nights. Or that this whole arrangement has kept them on talking terms, when they had gone their own separate ways otherwise.

Nothing to do with that at all.

---

Humans are stupid, and the biggest evidence of this is how they decided that two extremely powerful Gods skilled at magic, enchantment, and defeating an evil extra dimensional cloud that swallows everything it touches, should be delegated to the role of research. "You're clever. You're good at reading people. You can put yourselves in the shoes of the bad guys, no offense", they said, but really, what they meant was, "We can't trust you out in the field much." She knows it, he knows it. She just doesn't know why he's complying.

That's how they find themselves researching every single day.

She likes to think he's not the only reason why she's studying in the library instead of in the comfort of her room, but that'd be a lie.

At first, he chooses to sit at a separate table. But she keeps going over to his to "get his opinion" on something in the file she's reading, and finally, he gives in. Their current arrangement consists of him sitting in the chair in front of her, to the left, prim and proper, while she hoists her feet up on the table.

He falls asleep on the desk one night, face smacked against a file, the tiniest bit of drool forming at the corner of his mouth. It would be a hilarious sight, if her heart wasn't feeling what she can only describe as longing.

They should probably talk about it, like mature adults, but neither of them know how to do that.

All she can do right now is gather the courage to run her fingers through his hair. The touch is hesitant at first, as if one wrong move would make him wake up and push her back to square one. Slowly, she relaxes, letting her fingers dance on his scalp.

He stirs in his sleep. "Please Sif. I'm sorry. Don't cut off my glorious locks, please."

Now this is a story she must hear when things are better.

If things are better.

---

Doctor Strange joins them very briefly, very rarely, but the tension between him and Loki is hard to miss. It's worse than the current situation with her, and that's saying something.

"You don't really like Stephen, do you?"

Something inside him seems to shift, but he masks it behind a non-chalant look immediately and just arches an eyebrow at her. "He's Stephen now, is he?"

"Well, that is his name." She shrugs. "What do you call him?"

"Strange", he spits the word out with an amount of irritation that indicates there definitely is a story there. "That is his name", he mimics.

She can't help the smirk that spreads across her lips. "What did he do to you?"

"Nothing", he lies, ignoring the horrifying flashbacks of thirty minutes of endless falling. Not a single soul must ever know a mere human got the best of him. "What can he do to me? I'm a God among those mortals. He just irks me because he is so pompous, and arrogant, and he ceaselessly uses magic to toy with others."

She pretends to think deeply. "Now where have I seen that before?"

He scoffs. "You mock me, but I am nothing like him. For one, I am not rude."

"He seems fine to me", she declares decisively.

It's the first time in months that he gives her a cheeky grin. "That's because you're rude too."

---

They are still just containing the threats to their world, instead of finding a way to fortify the barriers between worlds and stop the threats from coming.

"Shouldn't we have a plan to seal off the other worlds from ours?" She asks him one day.

"They are working on it." He tells her, and then with a look of worry, adds, "I hope."

There are debates on what to do at the Avengers tower and at the TVA. Nobody seems to agree on what the best course of action is, but everyone seems to be following the general instructions of Doctor Strange.

During one such meeting, a Minuteman makes the mistake of voicing out loud how she wondered if things would be better if they were running according to their old boss's plans.

Sylvie feels the guilt wash over her once more.

"No", Loki tells them all firmly. The determination in his voice takes her completely by surprise. "Evil is evil. Lesser, greater, middling, makes no difference. The degree is arbitrary. The definition’s blurred." She catches him steal a glance at her direction. "We couldn't have left a dictator in charge just because it's convenient. Listen, I'm the bad guy. I've done horrible, unspeakable things. I thought humans needed to be ruled. I wanted to rule. But even I know that it's not right to take away a person's life completely. These are innocent people. You are innocent people. You have families back home, parents, children", a pause and a softening of his features, "-love. A whole past, a whole future. That man had no right to take it away from you."

His powers of persuasion are foreign to her, and it's mesmerizing to watch. Her enchantments cannot hold a candle to how he is able to just talk people into doing what he wants, thinking what he thinks, seeing what he sees.

"He who remains had a plan. One, singular plan, from one, singular man." There is absolute conviction in his voice. "It's not the only way. We'll find another way. A better way."

She has never known what it is like to have someone see you for who you are- broken and flawed, and defend you- even your well-intentioned actions that yielded different results than what you expected and hurt them in the process. She suspects it has been the same for him, a lifetime of not having anyone have his back.

The warm feeling inside her is brand new. What is the name of this? Comfort? Relief?

Happiness?

---

This will be their first time out in the field in a long time, and she feels a little sick to the stomach.

He notices. "Are you alright?"

The concern in his voice tugs at her heartstrings. She nods. She has faced way worse, she shouldn't be so nervous about this, but she is. "I've never done this before."

"We can always just kill him and blame it on the Chitauris", he suggests with a serious face.

"I heard that", Peter yells from the other room, where he is doing whatever it is that teenagers do to prepare for battle.

She shakes her head in disbelief. "I can't believe we're babysitting."

"I've done this before", he assures her, and it surprises her to picture him being entrusted with such a serious task. "The trick is to conjure up illusions that keep them distracted enough to not cry."

She laughs. "You're thinking of infants. This one is a little older."

"I'm over a thousand years old, Sylvie. They're all infants to me."

Peter joins them, mask covering his face so that he doesn't reveal his identity. "So what do I call you? Loki and Loki? That's confusing. How about Loki and Lady Loki? Or is that offensive? I'm not suggesting women are inferior, because they're absolutely not..."

"Does he come with an off switch?" She whispers in horror as Peter rambles on.

Loki grins. With one wave of his hand and a flash of green, Peter's own webbing shoots out and seals his mouth shut.

---

Things are fine but not fine at the same time. He's right there beside her, but not there at all. They have their banters, they have their stolen glances, but they haven't had a meaningful conversation since that first day when she got back. She's been putting it off for a long time, but she knows they really do need to have the talk.

She corners him in his room one evening while he's tinkering with a temporal collar. She takes a seat in the chair next to his bed and rests her hand on the table, leaning her head against her palm, before switching position and crossing her arms and legs. Everything about her posture screams uneasiness. If he notices- he probably does- he doesn't say anything.

"You defended me that day."

He briefly looks up from the task at hand and gives her a soft smile. "Of course."

She blinks. "I don't understand." Her hands involuntary rise up to rub her temples. "If you can justify my actions to them, then how can you still be mad at me?"

"I'm not mad at you", he says without missing a beat.

"Rubbish", her words come out angrier than she intended. This frustration is the result of the months of status quo they have had. She has to know now, one way or the other. "You're distant. You're guarded", she accuses. Then her voice breaks, as she feels a part of her break all over again with her next words. "You don't hold my hand. Why? Tell me."

He abandons the collar and focuses his full attention on her. Staring straight into her eyes, he answers her. "You know why."

"I wouldn't be asking if I did. Look, if it's because I chose the mission over you-"

"-Of course it's not that." He says decisively. Then a sad smile clouds his face. It's the same look he had when she accused him of conning her to gain the throne. "Do you think I'm the type of man who would want a woman to abandon her life-long ambitions just because she has met someone?"

She knows he isn't. But it still doesn't answer why he is so cross with her. "What is it then?"

He pauses for a moment, trying to decide whether he wants to bare his soul out to her once more or not. There are two ways he can go from here- choose to not let her in again and save himself from the hurt, or trust her again and open himself up to potential pain.

Who is he kidding? Pushing her away- keeping her away- doesn't hurt any less.

There were a thousand things that had to go wrong to bring two Lokis from two universes together. A connection like that, it doesn't just happen.

And it doesn't just go away. The pain is constant, it's a part of him, pounding like a second heart every second he has to stop himself from reaching out for her hand.

This has to come to an end.

He takes in a deep breath, bracing himself. "You didn't have to send me away, Sylvie. I wanted to stop you from making the same mistakes I did. But in the end, I didn't care what you chose. I just wanted us to do it together."

She never even imagined this could be the reason for his hurt. All these months spent thinking he hates her for her choices, and now it turns out he is hurt simply because she chose to do it alone? "I'm sorry." She says sincerely. "I just wanted you to be safe."

"And I just wanted to be there with you till the end." He confesses. His eyes shimmer with the emotions he has kept bottled in for so long. "You go, I go."

She doesn't know what to say to that. She has never been good at articulating her feelings. Tears stream down her cheeks at the realisation that even after everything, he is still there for her.

She didn't cry even back at Lamentis when they thought they were going to die. She doesn't let anyone see her cry when she is sad or scared. That's all she has known her whole life. She's used to it by now.

This is new. These are tears of relief. Comfort.

Happiness.

Tentatively, she crosses over to the bed and sits by his side.

It's quiet for a few minutes. But unlike the months of tension so thick she could cut it into splices with her daggers, this is comfortable silence. The kind they had before it all went wrong.

"Did you even miss me?" He whispers.

"What kind of silly question is that? Of course I did." Her shaking hands grab his, and oh how she missed this.

He intertwines their fingers. His eyes draw closed. Bliss. That's the only word for this feeling.

He opens his eyes again and studies her. She's staring back at him, teary-eyed, but with a hopeful smile. "Really? Because you have a really unique way of showing it. You didn't even come looking for me."

"I didn't know how to face you", she tells him honestly. No tricks, no enchantment, no treachery. Not with him. "I didn't know if you even wanted to see me." Her voice grows quieter, dropping to a timbre that perfectly encapsulates her deepest fear. "I thought you hated me."

"Hate you?" He is shocked that she thinks that is even possible, specially after seeing him these last few months. "Sylvie, I'm working with the Avengers. The Avengers. Do you know how much I hate them? They are my nemesis. They're self-righteous, condescending, and so completely dull. Every second with them makes me want to rip their hearts out. Why do you think I'm here with them?"

She thinks she knows. But she needs to hear it anyway.

"It's because of you." He lays it all out on the table. All cards on deck, win or lose. "You've been running away. I have been the one who has been here, trying to hold down the fort, working to fix everything. Because that is what one does when one loves-"

Shit. The word slips out before he realises it.

Their eyes go wide in unison.

"Sylvie, I-"

"-Don't you dare take it back now." She warns him. "I-" She doesn't know how to say it either. They make such a great pair, both equally daft at saying how they feel, like they are teenagers, not Gods who have lived for centuries. "I've been running because I didn't think I could bear the burden of knowing I found you and then I lost you. I don't want to lose you. Not now, not ever."

He kisses the back of her hand, before letting it go. He cups her face, gently caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. "I don't want to lose you either."

She leans in closer, until their foreheads touch. She can feel his breath on her face, warm and soft. That is exactly how she feels inside. "You won't", she promises. "You go, I go."

---

(Quote on Lesser Evil from The Witcher. Thanks for reading!!)