#i recently got my first strike out of a three strike system because i needed to be coached on connecting with customers and not making

[t4tstarvingdog]

trying not to be internally pissed off about work 😁

[luminantrondo]

Character Study - Flynn & Judith: How They Handle Emotion (and Daddy Issues)

HEAVY spoilers for Ryuutsukai no Chinmoku/Silence of the Dragon Rider. Light spoilers for chapters 1-5 of Danzaisha no Keifu and First Strike.

Flynn Scifo and Judith aren't what you'd call "foil characters." If you want to put this label on anyone in Vesperia, it would be Flynn and Yuri. Yet the comparison is drawn between Flynn & Yuri whenever someone tries to humor Flynn & Judith duo. "It's het!Fluri," "it's Fluri without the childhood trope"... Oddly enough, you don't see this complaint when Yuri & Judith's dynamic is drawn together. Is it because Flynn's a stickler for the law and Judith's too free-spirited? Is it because Flynn's not a permanent party member?

Yet for all these counterarguments for the duo that is Flynn and Judith, we never see anything that actually... does something with those differences and similarities. It gets written off for being so "out there" that no one really looks into it beyond the surface level.

One thing that recently drew my attention to Flynn and Judith was emotions and how they handle them. It's, I dare say, a foil. But to understand what I'm trying to get at, we need to look at what canon gives us of both their characters.

Flynn

Flynn's past is about as choppy as Yuri's as far as side content goes. We know First Strike is infamous for upending Yuri and Flynn's past. We have Danzaisha, but even that muddies some of the stuff that was in the game itself. If we go strictly by game, we know Flynn "raised some hell in the lower quarter" when he was a kid. We also know that he's seen as the more reliable one by the lower quarter. And that he got swept up in a river when they were outside the lower quarter. And that he's "The Ace" trope played pretty straight.

In Danzaisha, Flynn's ostracized by the other lower quarter kids. He moved in from the citizen's quarter to the lower quarter (where the game implies Flynn was always a lower quarter kid) following the death of his father. He's ridiculed for being different, being standoffish, and (in the other children's eyes) thinking he's "better" than everyone in the lower quarter.

First Strike is... different. Flynn grew up with Yuri in the lower quarter, but he moved away after the death of his father. Flynn and Yuri meet up again when taking an entry level test to become knights. Flynn does this to follow in his dad's footsteps; Yuri does it for pay. This contrasts greatly from the game and Danzaisha.

And yet, despite both side content being different from one another and even the game itself, there's one thing that remains consistent in both: Flynn's temper and his "professional vs. real self."

Trying to find a picture of Flynn smiling in the first three chapters of Danzaisha or even the first 30 minutes of First Strike is rarer than finding a Shiny Pokemon w/o the Shiny Charm. He remains stoic, and if he's not trying to look like a professional knight, he's usually frowning at Yuri's antics (FS) or because the lower quarter kids have pushed him to his limit (Danzaisha).

Flynn doesn't "handle" his emotions because he's weighed down by some innate professionalism. In Japan, there's a practice called "Tatemae" and "Honne". Basically, "tatemae" is how you present yourself to the public, hiding your true feelings. "Honne" is the opposite. When Flynn's standing before the knights or the nobility, he's concealing his true feelings, which is shown in several scenes in Act 1. Before Ragou's death scene, you see the facade slip. His true feelings on the matter are disgust at the justice system, a barely-held back restraint to just bend the code a little and have Ragou tried get off with more than just a slap on the wrist.

In Danzaisha, Flynn is noted by Yuri to be keeping up a mask. The first time Yuri sees it slip is during the river scene where Flynn gets swept away by the current (this scene is referenced in Flynn's 200-man-melee event skit). Following the death of his mother, Flynn keeps up appearances. He buries his emotions in exchange for something more formal. This isn't just knight training, as we see this with Flynn when he was just a child. It's part of his personality.

There are instances in game canon where we see bits of Flynn's true feelings. The PS3-exclusive side quest with the Sword Dance is noteworthy because of how agitated Flynn gets as the quest continues. He's determined to get the sword back and gets worked up to where Yuri snaps at him to calm down. Remembering himself, he apologizes, and the mask is slapped back on.

I compare Flynn to Yuri in this case, but if you think about it, Yuri doesn't exactly where his heart on his sleeve. If anything, he's calmer in tighter situations. That doesn't mean he doesn't have his breaking points (do I need to cite examples for this?). But whereas Flynn's temper can potentially come out in a burst, Yuri's is much more tranquil, even eerie.

So... why am I drawing a comparison between Flynn and Yuri's emotions when this is about Flynn and Judith? Because the emotional contrast between Flynn and Judith is more of a foil than Flynn and Yuri.

Let's talk about Judith, then.

Judith

Unfortunately, we're not given much about Judith's past in Vesperia itself. We know she was a survivor of the Great War (was saved by Ba'ul), that the other Krityans of Temza feared Ba'ul, she was taken to Myorzo post-tragedy at Temza, her dad is Hermes (Mordio) who was responsible for creating Hermes Blastia. In the novels, bits of Judith's past in the game are upended, but ultimately build her something that's more coherent to canon than Flynn and Yuri's past. Which, given the latter is the protagonist, is pretty sad.

In Ryuutsukai, we learn a LOT about Judith. In volume 1, we're introduced to a concept called the Great Circle. This is an empath-like hivemind that all Krityans are connected to via their nageeg. Judith struggles to use her nageeg as a young child, and it isn't until she connects with Ba'ul when she masters it. As such, she's able to join the Great Circle at a very young age. During this time frame, the book mainly focuses on Hermes' pov. This is because Judith's emotions are suppressed.

But one thing the Great Circle (Great Tree in Myorzo) suffocates the most are heightened emotions. Particularly anxiety and anger/hatred.

At one point, Judith uses the nageeg to read her father's heart following the reveal that Hermes Blastia is damaging the environment. Here, she discovers the existence of "another daughter" (revealed to be Rita in volume 2). This shocks her so much that it breaks her out of the Great Circle. The other Krityans on Temza are shaken from the Circle when the monsters of the Great War start killing everyone. The Circle is not enough to suppress the fear and anxiety running rampant through the shared hivemind, thus the Krityans more or less go into a state of shock during the war.

When Judith is taken to Myorzo by Ba'ul falling a near-death experience, she struggles to fit in. The Myorzo Krityans are all linked to the Great Tree. Judith, however, refuses to rejoin the Circle/Tree. A year after she arrives in Myorzo, she has a realization:

鎮められるのは奪われるのと同じ。それは敗北と同じだ。　ジュディスは抵抗の正体を理解した。理解し、全面的に同意した。　この気持ちは私のもの。私自身。そう、私は決して〈大樹〉に加わったりしない。たとえバウルが来てくれなくても、決して (my translation) "To suppress [emotions] was the same as taking them away. It was the same as admitting defeat. Judith understood why she resisted. Because she understood it, she agreed completely. These feelings belonged to me. They're mine. I will never join the Great Tree. Never, even if Ba'ul never comes."

For context, Judith, struggling to fit in, starts feeling a deep hatred following everything that happened to her. One thing to note is that hatred is an emotion that was heavily suppressed by the Circle/Tree, and it's an emotion that most Krityans never feel.

In the final chapter of Ryuutsukai, Judith's hatred and anger even scares Ba'ul, because he's never felt this emotion from her. But it should be noted that Judith's anger is what ultimately saves her from succumbing to the Great Tree/Circle. In fact, following the breaking of the ceres blastia (volume 2), she is afraid to go back to Myorzo because she fears she won't have it in her to resist the Circle... because she's depressed, obviously.

And if you're curious, the target of her hatred is the "other daughter", aka Rita.

Judith's anger is taken a step further when she refers to herself as the "daughter of Hermes", a feeble attempt to claim that she, and only she, is Hermes' child - no one else. By volume 2, she realizes how arrogant this was.

Of course, Judith's anger is more "dry" and doesn't come out in bursts like her "possible" sister (Rita). But I'd argue it's more wild than Yuri's and blinds Judith to things around her. The fact she needed such a strong negative emotion to carry herself should say it all. Yuri is angry at the nobility and doesn't hesitate to do things his own way. But Yuri's frustrations with the knights/nobility pushes him to throw in the towel. Judith's anger/hatred is her driving force after Temza.

Flynn & Judith

So, again, why Flynn and Judith? What does this "handling emotion" have to do with anything?

It's a contrast between the characters you'd least expect it from.

Flynn suppresses his emotions and wears a mask. The "True" Flynn comes out when he's with his friends - mainly Yuri. But at his core, he's human, too. He was an angry kid growing up.

Judith does not suppress her emotions. Her anger is almost palpable in the last chapter of Ryuutsukai (vol 1). She refuses to converse with the Myorzo Krityans, and the narration shows just how annoyed she is at them in the scene where she leaps out of Krones. And yes, while she appears calm on the outside, there's a torrent of emotion swirling within.

Flynn has his self-doubts, but ultimately believes in his friends and his men.

Judith is confident, but volume 2 of Ryuutsukai shows she's afraid that her friends will "reject" her. It's why she goes off on her own to take care of her problems even in the final chapter of the second volume.

Why am I not comparing Flynn-Yuri or Yuri-Judith? Because if it hasn't already been done already (and I'd be very surprised if it wasn't), the contrast just isn't as glaring. We already know about Flynn and Yuri's similarities and differences, but I find it curious how much true vs. real emotions play into both Flynn and Judith's characters.

Yuri has his self-esteem issues, maybe even exaggerated outside canon, but a facade vs. true personality is not key to Yuri's character.

Flynn and Judith handle emotions very differently, but through these differences, we see some similarities. One key thing I'd like to mention before closing this is how they handle the death of their father.

In FS, Flynn's angry throughout the whole damn thing. In fact, he thinks his father's death was pointless, and even mentioning his dad brings out some anger in him. With Danzaisha, this is played down a little, but ultimately is still there. When Yuri noticed Flynn's stance is similar to that of a knight's, it triggers Flynn because it (unintentionally) roots up suppressed feelings/thoughts about his dad. The scene at the river where Flynn's mask comes back up occurs because there's a mention of the knights. It's unknown if Flynn still harbors the resentment for his dad in Danzaisha that he had in FS, but ultimately, daddy issues are a consistent part of Flynn's character in spinoff content.

Judith loved her father and he was her support. When it's cruelly wrenched away, she's heartbroken and (of course) angry. But whereas Flynn's anger was directed at his dad, Judith's is at Rita/the "other daughter". Because the other daughter "took" her father('s love) away. Judith wanted her dad's undivided attention. Judith's driving motive behind her actions in canon are her dad. Volume 1 goes into this a bit deeper, declaring she'll protect him (or rather his rep at this point).

Flynn's father is a sore spot and something he avoids; Judith talks about her father to Yuri and Rita, and is ultimately more melancholy.

Still, I don't think deceased fathers is something Flynn and Judith would bond over any time soon. But it's another similarity between both characters, and yet how they approach it couldn't be more different.

[healingpolyphony]

TW: ED talk. This post is from me, Jax, not about anyone else in my system.

There’s also pictures of two of my jumping spiders.

I’m at a really weird point in my eating disorder recovery where I can and will eat most of my fear foods with a relatively straight face.

Right now I’m eating soup. Soups always been an okay food, but I’ve also got two slices of bread. Strike one. With butter. Strike two. And I’m the soup itself I’ve added smoked cheddar cheese. Strike three. 100% me in the past would have an absolute meltdown over this. But I’m alright. I’m anxious and I’m feeling disgusted, but I’m pushing past it because it tastes good and I need food, especially cause I’m going to be continuing cleaning in a bit after I let things settle.

I’ve had a lot of things come up recently that’s fucked with my mental health and pushed me towards a relapse. And yeah I’ve definitely come close, and I’ve restricted a bit but nothing massive, so I guess I’ve technically relapsed, but I’m still doing alright.

I found my old ED blogs last night. Blogs plural. I think one was supposed to just be a general space for me, but I was so wrapped up in my ED shit that it leaked (burst) through anyway. I went through them a tiny bit, not even going off the first page, and yikes.

Struggled for a couple of minutes, then deleted them both. Part of me wanted to keep them, partly cause one of them had other things on that weren’t related, but I think I did the right thing? Idk.

Had another big trigger today. One of my biggest tbh. The reason I split. Wanted to throw things and s/h and vomit. But I didn’t. I cried a bit and started cleaning and sorting out the tarantulas and spiders.

And then I made myself food.

Spyro and Spring say hello to everyone that’s bothered to read the ramble.

[volturialice]

best book I've read in 2023 - I mean, 2023 was the year I finally got around to reading both We Have Always Lived in the Castle and The Golden Compass, so. kinda no contest. but more recently-published books I enjoyed include Princess Floralinda and the Forty-Flight Tower, Hörrorstör, and Juniper and Thorn.

best sequel I've read in 2023 - I mean after I finished Golden Compass I tore right through Subtle Knife and Amber Spyglass, of course. But also Don't Fear the Reaper by Stephen Graham Jones! I love his character writing™ so much I would read a book about Jade and Letha watching paint dry. Gal was also a breakout star I love that smug little nerd I hope she's all up in book 3

new release I want to read - idk what's even come out recently. The Salt Grows Heavy, maybe?

most anticipated release - definitely System Collapse by Martha Wells. spare murderbot, ma'am?

biggest disappointment - I feel like I had a lot of disappointments this year but I also read a lot of books, so I'm bound to strike out sometimes. the #1 spot goes to The Three-Body Problem (I am...not the audience for this book.) I was also disappointed due to "love the premise so much on paper but the execution was...Not It for me" by Lone Women and Leech and regular-disappointed by the Alex Stern series. I wanted to like those first two especially soooo baaaddd ;;;-;;;

biggest surprise - I would tell you what it was but I'm gonna make @bellasbookclub read it this winter so NO PEEKING. suffice to say it is a girly classic™ (too obscure to be an actual classic) and I am not alone in reading it and being like wait what the fuck this is so delightful

new (to me) favorite author - not new at all even to me but until this year I had only read her short form stuff: Shirley Jackson. new (to me): Ava Reid, Mariana Enríquez

newest fictional crush - [redacted] from [redacted] but also Marak from The Hollow Kingdom was such an eminently fuckable little Ugly Guy. 10/10

newest favorite character - Merricat Blackwood! also kind of every single character in His Dark Materials tbh. I was reading that ~children's~ book like wow I hope lyra's parents fuck nasty and kill each other and I was so fed

book that made me cry - books almost NEVER make me cry but a) I did feel a lump in my throat a few times during Braiding Sweetgrass, and b) did I lie on the floor at 3 AM listening to Saturn and trying not to weep at the end of The Amber Spyglass? maybe a little

book that made you happy - [redacted,] Picnic at Hanging Rock, and Princess Floralinda all sparked joy. also Orphan Black: Classified Clone Files or whatever it’s called because of all its 3D elements—why yes I have always wanted fliers for Alison’s school board campaign and a physical copy of Delphine’s fucking. boarding pass to Frankfurt I’m laughing so hard

most beautiful book you bought this year - these finds from my local used bookstore! I fucking love "[X] Poem a Day" books. I also got a gorgeous copy of my beloved Perfume: the Story of a Murderer as part of my quest to acquire all the pretty editions

books I really need to read by the end of the year - seriously like half the Bella's Book Club summer reclist because y'all fucking DELIVERED with those. but also The Wolf and the Woodsman, The City We Became, maybe The Secret History (I know I know. I've been dragging my feet about tumblr's beloved Donna Tartt for literal years but like I'll get to her eventually I promised @bettsfic I would)

tagging: everyone who sees this post, has An Opinion on it, and is NOT already participating in Bella's Book Club (now's your chance to make me read your opinions anyway)

Mid-Year Book Freakout Tag

(Note that this tag game is not ours. Origin: booktube like 5 years ago) (Also pretend it's still mid-year)

Rules: tag anyone whose Book Opinions you wanna hear. if you're following this blog you are automatically tagged!

Best book you've read so far in 2023

Best sequel you've read so far in 2023

New release you haven't read yet, but want to

Most anticipated release for the second half of the year

Biggest disappointment

Biggest surprise

New favorite author

Newest fictional crush

Newest favorite character

Book that made you cry

Book that made you happy

Most beautiful book you bought this year

Books you really need to read by the end of the year

[reidsnose]

Nose Taps (spencer reid x reader)

overview: the newest member of the bau develops a cute secret language with the resident genius

genre: fluff

a/n: this is my first fic so my apologies if its bad lol i tried. also its very short sorry ! but yeah lmk if u like it :)

masterlist

From the first day you walked through the doors of the BAU, you were incredibly charming in a unique way. You knew exactly how to talk to everyone, an amazing intuition letting you know just what to do. Spencer's curiosity had fallen on you; he was absolutely enthralled by your entire being.

the first thing that caught his attention was when you hand had accidentally grazed his.

it was a small meaningless gesture as you slipped past him, but he thought about it for weeks afterwards, in a good way. he thought about your smile as you apologized for "bumping into him". he missed the tingles that shot up his arm where your skin met his.

the second thing was much larger, he began to notice your kindness.

on only your second day in the office you stayed late to help hotch with paperwork so he could get home to jack faster. it was not a selfish act to get on his good side, rather an act of complete and utter kindness.

you brought JJ cheetos when she was feeling down because you saw her munching on them on the jet once.

you even got morgan to talk about his feelings for 4 hours one night after something was clearly bothering him. and morgan never talks about his feelings.

though you had just recently met them, you showed them how sweet you were without even trying. and Spencer Reid was no exception.

you stayed attentive to everyone who spoke to you, and when you noticed that people would often interrupt him or brush him off, it didn't sit right with you. after talking to him about it, the two of you developed a system. every time he didn't get to finish his thought, you would tap your nose to show him you noticed and wanted to hear about it later. then, at the end of the day, either in the hotel or on the jet, you would tally up the number of nose taps and he would get to ramble about all of it to you. it wasnt intentionally a secret but it was kept between you two, your little thing.

spencer thought it was the most endearing and kind thing anyone had done for him.

and you ate up every second of it, watching his eyes grow wide and then crinkle at the corners when he grew giddy about a certain statistic or historical story. you didn't understand how anyone could not want to listen to him.

soon, however, the nose taps evolved into something more. a whole little language grew between the two of you.

one nose tap from either party meant "im listening".

two nose taps meant "i have to tell you something".

three meant "i have to tell you asap".

an eyebrow tap meant "this reminded me of you" or "im thinking about you".

so on and so forth.

the team picked up on this little code between the two of you, but couldn't for the life of them understand what it all meant or when it had started. to be fair, they didn't have much time to decode while on cases.

to Spencer, this secret language was his most treasured peice of knowledge. And to you, it was your most treasured secret. and to both, unforgettable.

though Spencer had noticed your striking beauty when he first laid eyes on you, spending tome with you only intensified it. he found himself often marveling at the little details, especially on the jet.

the way your hair fell on your shoulders, the angle of your eyelashes, the blush that graced your cheeks when you laughed, the way you chew on your lip when you're thinking, even the barely noticeable wrinkles you have in your forehead from raising your eyebrows all the time. he was falling helplessly in love with every bit of you.

you did that same to him. admiring the itty bitty bump on the bridge of his nose right above the perfect little button tip, the curls in his hair, the way he puckered up a little as he talked, the way his whole face would crinkle up when he laughed really hard, his eyes squinting so hard they were barely visible. you were falling helplessly in love with every bit of him.

the team had OBVIOUSLY picked up on this, and though they would tease the both of you in private, they didn't dare embarrass you in front of each other. they weren't that sadistic. or so you thought.

one evening at rossis the team decided to have a powerpoint night. everyone chose a funny topic to make a power point and present about.

jj went first, presenting the slideshow titled "ways my clashing aesthetics present themselves through my sons"

next went morgan: "reasons i should be allowed to not wear a shirt under my bullet proof vest".

followed by Rossi who did "list of the fakest Italians weve ever encountered (they cant even pronounce gnocchi)"

after him was prentiss with "things i did while pretending to be dead"

and then hotch who made "ranking the bau from most to least childish"

then you went with "animals i think all of you resemble"

followed by reid who did "top 5 worst hospitals based on jello rating"

and last but not least, garcia. she went with "agents i think should just get married already we are literally not getting any younger"

you all laughed until the slide moved and there was a picture of Spencer and you, asleep on each other on the jet. his arm was wrapped around you protectively as you were cuddled up to his chest. you looked over at spencer who was matching your bright red face.

"y/n and spencer." garcia spoke before clicking to the next slide.

"wow she just cut right to the chase huh," prentiss laughed.

more images that the team had sneakily taken of the two of you riddled the screen.

one of you braiding his hair. one of him wiping frosting on your face from your birthday. on of the two of you mid laugh, mirroring each other exactly. a few more of you two on the jet, on cases, or even out at bars or at rossis with the rest of the team. so many of them and as much as you were embarrassed, you really loved all of those pictures.

"i really dont think i need to explain much, these speak for themselves," garcia chirped.

"i like that one," reid spoke up, pointing to the braiding one. ok so were going about that like this.

"i was just about to say that, but this ones also a close contender," you replied pointing to the frosting one.

"and that my friends, concludes my slide show!" garcia laughed.

"wait seriously? just us?" you laughed.

"yea.." she started, a giddy smile decorating her face. you looked over at Spencer and tapped your nose twice. he did it back but three times, cracking a cheesy grin. "see! and they have their little secret nose code thing! is that not relationship material?"

"you guys noticed?" spencer asked, clearly oblivious.

"duh." rossi joked.

[adarlingwrites]

Leave it to the Wind

Summary: Between deadlines, an awful transport system, and aswangs lurking about in the shadows, you have much to worry about as a college student in Manila, and it's so much that your social life is practically dead. Your wind people roommates want to help you remedy that.

Words: 9343

Relationships: The Kambal/Reader (Crispin/Reader/Basilio)

Warnings: Adult content, alcohol, brief scene of sexual harassment

Author’s Notes: God, the fandom is so thirsty for the Kambal, and so am I. Finally, some Filipino himbo representation.

The premise is: Hannah and Amie decides to play matchmaker. Hilarity ensues. Smut ensues. Please be nice, I based the characterizations of the character on the Netflix series and Trese wiki pages since I couldn't get my hands on the original comics yet oof. Some words, like terms of endearment and curse words, will remain in Filipino. Translations are provided. Reader is AFAB and is referred to with female pronouns.

Reposting this from AO3 with all three chapters in one post. A Filipino (Taglish) translation is in the works!

I

You don’t know how they managed to convince you, to be honest.

You rarely ever go out at night anymore. So many strange incidents transpire in Manila’s narrow streets. Just recently, you’ve heard of a new story about a tikbalang who allegedly participated in illegal street races.

So when your roommates and friends Amie and Hannah invited you for a night out, you hesitated. You gave them every excuse you can think of; you needed to do laundry, you needed to study, you needed to finish a project, and so on.

You know that the two of them are wind people, but you can’t help but think. Which of the various stories you had been hearing are real? What else in this world you haven’t witnessed yet?

“Aw, you’re such a buzzkill! Pretty please? You don’t go out with us as often. Enjoy yourself a little,” Amie whines, lying on the sofa of your living room.

On the other hand, Hannah turns to you with a mischievous grin on her face. “C’mon, get dressed already,” she commanded. “There are some total hotties we’d like you to meet! One of them might catch your eye!”

“I told you, I don’t need a relationship. You two try this every week. How do you even know so many people?” you retort, laughing softly at yourself.

“Well, our night lives are active,” Hannah retorted. “Don’t forget our sex lives!” the other added. Hearing those words, you felt your face get flushed with heat.

You needed a good fuck.

“Damn it, fine! As long as you pay for me.”

They finally got you to say yes.

As the night went on, you went to several bars, and you swore that you had explored every crevice of the city. It doesn’t help that the guy Amie and Hannah were with, a tall, dark and handsome man with flowing locks of black hair, drove like a demon. You got around quickly in no time.

Around an hour after midnight, you’re all exhausted from a night of dancing and mingling. None of the people your friends introduced to you caught your attention. At that point, you just wanted a stiff drink to unwind.

Voicing it to your drinking buddies, they nod in agreement.

“I know just the place, in Malate,” the man you’re with said. “Quiet. Discreet. I can take you there, if you want.”

“You mean The Diabolical, right? Let’s go! Text Crispin and Basilio, they might be hangin’ there too,” Amie croons.

A chuckle escapes your lips upon hearing their names. “Huh? Were they named after the characters in Jose Rizal’s novel?”

“I think so? Whatever! But seriously though… Those two can totally make you scream their names louder than Sisa ever did! Best lay I ever had!”

The remark made you laugh so hard, you swore you can be heard in the next city. “What the fuck! Amie, gaga ka, Sisa was their mom! The context of that scene was rough.”

Hannah’s mischievous grin spreads on her face once more, and she gently elbows your side. “Well, if you’re lucky, in this context you’d be crying their names while your eyes roll to the back of your head.”

You’ll never admit it, but you had hoped all their teasing would come true.

It didn’t take long for the four of you to reach your destination. As you enter The Diabolical, a strange chill envelopes you. The air feels different inside; it’s almost as if you stepped in a different world. Perhaps it’s the alcohol, but when you looked around, you saw a duwende sitting by the bar. Or was it called a nuno? At the end of the bar, you saw them; two men both dressed in black suits. One has short hair, while the other one has longer, reaching past his shoulders. However, they’re facing away from you. Only the back of their head and part of their cheeks were visible where you stood.

You snapped out of it when the man you three are with spoke up. “I’m gonna call it a night. Have fun, you three.”

“For real? Wow Maliksi, this is the first time I ever saw you wanting to leave early. Aren’t you gonna stop by and say hi to Alex?” Hannah asks him.

“Maybe next time,” Maliksi answers back, a somber expression on his face. “Oh em gee, did you two fight? Wait, what are you two?” Amie asks.

“Whatever. It’s complicated. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Your friends nodded and let Maliksi be. He waves at your group, and heads out the door. The engine of his car roars to life, and his car screeches away.

As the car moved farther away though, it seems that the screeching of the tires turned into hoofbeats.

Perhaps it’s just your imagination.

“Amie! Hannah! Have a drink! Hey, who’s that with you? Is that the person you’ve been wanting us to meet for ages now?”

Your head turns to where the voice was coming from; one of the men in the suits, the one with short hair in particular. You finally had a good look on their faces.

Twins?

“Crispin! Meet our friend! This is…”

As Amie and Hannah introduce you to the Twins, you can’t help but stare. You took the sight of their features in; they’re tall, with broad shoulders, and hard muscle underneath that black suit and white tie ensemble. They have wide noses with a high bridge, prominent bone structure, and a prominent widow’s peak.

Merciful Bathala, they’re gorgeous.

What caught your attention the most are their eyes. They're pitch black, save for the small reflection of light.

Are these people even human?

“Stare at them like that any longer and they might melt,” Amie teases. The two of your friends are giving you an ear-splitting grin due to your reaction to the Twins.

“I, uh-” you stuttered, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Hey, don’t be shy. You can sit between us, miss. We’re all friends here,” the twin with the longer hair says. If the other one is Crispin, then this must be Basilio.

Behind you, your friends are already giggling. They took their places next to the twins and leaned on their biceps. Across from you, the bartender comes to take your order.

“What’ll it be, kid?” he asks.

For some reason, you’re panicking. Maybe it’s because of the alcohol in your system. Or maybe it’s because you’re sandwiched between the twins. “Uh, what would you recommend, manong?”

Laughter erupted from the twins. “Hank, she called you manong!” Basilio teases while grinning like a fucking dog. “Geez, are you really that old?” Crispin eggs him on, giving him a shit-eating grin. Hank takes a wet rag he uses to wipe down the countertop and strikes the two down. “You goddamn assholes!”

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing with them.

“Ow! Alright, we’re sorry, we’re sorry. Get them the best seller, Hank. We’ll pay for their tab,” Basilio says, and Hannah and Amie squeals with joy.

“Oh em gee, you boys are so sweet! Thank youuu!”

As Hank prepares you a drink, you try conversing with the twins. “You two seem fun to have as drinking buddies.”

Hank turns around to reach a bottle from the shelf. “Those two are mischievous little shits, that’s for sure. You know, when these two were kids...”

“Hey man, don’t embarrass us like that in front of our new friend,” Crispin whines.

While the three continues fucking around, you leaned back slightly to glimpse at Amie, who was trying to get your attention for a while now. She points to her phone, and you fetch yours from your bag.

You read your group chat with them. “Soooo, do you like, like them?” Hannah’s message said.

“You’re into them aren’t you? You got so shy around them, it’s so cute!” Amie’s message said.

“Right? It’s rare to see you so flustered!”

You typed away furiously at your phone, cautious to not let the twins beside you see the conversation.

“Well, they’re an improvement from the ones you introduced me to earlier. Easier on the eyes, too…”

Your friends giggled, and as their drinks arrived, they stood up. “Girl, we’re gonna leave you with them, there’s some super hot tikbalangs who just came in the bar. Byeeee!”

“Hey, wait!”

They didn’t heed your words and went to sit on the tikbalangs’ laps.

Fuck, tikbalangs are real? Is Maliksi a tikbalang too?

“And off they go, flirting with those beasts after they’ve used us for drinks,” Crispin laments, voice dripping with light-hearted sarcasm.

“It’s not like it’s the first time we got used by them though,” Basilio adds, cringing.

You can’t help but laugh.  “Yeah, I’ve heard.”

Basilio’s head whips towards you, sweat gathering on his brow. “Seriously?! Shit, what did they say about us?”

“All good things, don’t you worry,” you answered.

“Nah, I need to hear what they said word for word,” the twin with long hair responds. “This is making me paranoid!”

Crispin moves closer to you, Basilio puts a friendly arm around your shoulder, and you can only smile. All of you are inebriated and if you were sober, and if someone else dared to get this close to you, you might’ve slapped them. But you feel good about the Twins, and your roommates never put you in harm’s way, so your trust for them extended to the brothers, somehow.

“Just tell us already,” Crispin slurs. “Tell us what they said about us. We’re curious.”

“Fine, fine. Okay, Amie and Hannah mentioned your names when Maliksi suggested that we head here to drink. Then, I mentioned that your names came from Rizal’s novels.”

“Then Amie said,” you continued, pausing briefly to come up with an impression of your roommate’s speech. “‘Seriously though… Those two can totally make you scream their names louder than Sisa ever did! Best lay I ever had!’ Fuck, it was so messed up!”

“That’s messed up, alright,” Basilio sputters, his face a deep shade of crimson. “I’m this hot and those are the only details they can spare?!”

“Ok, but that Sisa joke was kind of funny though. But it was still fucked up,” Crispin adds, and he takes a sip of his drink.

“Hold your horses, the story’s not done yet,” you say. You’re starting to feel more confident around the two.

Your conversation went places, until you found yourselves drinking until three in the morning, and at that point, it’s only just the four of you in the bar; Hank, the Twins, and you. Even Hannah and Amie are nowhere to be seen. Knowing them, they probably took the tikbalangs they were flirting with back to your apartment.

They didn’t even wait for you. Looks like they’re really setting you up tonight. Maybe they wanted the apartment to themselves tonight, and they got exactly what they wanted.

You had planned on getting up to go to the restroom, but when you tried standing up, you almost fell from the chair. The Twins caught you before you landed face first against the floor.

“She’s had enough to drink,” Hank comments. They set you on a chair with a backrest. “How will she get home? We can’t send her off in a cab at this rate. The train doesn't run this late either.”

“Hannah left her behind too,” Crispin adds.

“Hey, how are we gonna deal with this?” Basilio asks. “We can get you home once we sober up a little. It’s fine if you-”

Basilio never got to finish what he was going to say, because you nodded off against his stomach, and puked your lunch out.

You don’t remember anything after that.

When you awaken, the sun is already high up, and the first thing that greets you is the fan in the ceiling. Your muscles are screaming at you, and your throat feels dry. Memories of last night came crashing back and you started sweating in horror. Maybe it’s just a drunken dream, but it felt all too real.

You were flirting with these gorgeous twins, had too much to drink, and at some point puked all over one of the twins’ shoes.

And now, you don’t know whose bedroom you are in. You check yourself, and you’re still wearing the same clothes, with nothing out of place. There are no bruises or marks on your body either. You looked around you, but there was no one else in the room.

The doors crack open slightly, and you see two pairs of void-black eyes.

“I… um… good morning?”

“It’s… already 2 in the afternoon,” one of them says. He has long hair. This one is the twin you threw up on.

“Why don’t you have some lunch?” the other one said.

You just nodded and said nothing else, ashamed of yourself. You threw up on one of them and now you’re eating at their table. You just wanted the ground to swallow you alive.

“Sorry for puking on you last night,” you near-whispered to Basilio after you swallowed your first bite of food.

The silence broke when Crispin roared with laughter, tears pooling at the corner of his eyes. Meanwhile, Basilio was glaring daggers at his brother. He’s frowning like a child whose toy got taken from him. “Sure, keep laughing, kuya.”

“I’ll never show my face here again, I promise,” you say to them, hiding your face behind your hands.

“What’re you talking about? Forget about it. We’re friends now, right?” Basilio tells you, smiling. “But next time, vomit on my brother too.”

“No one’s throwing up because I won’t be allowing any of you to get wasted that bad ever again,” Hank announces as he enters the room with a carafe in his hand. “Bossing’s not gonna like it if the bar ends up smelling as bad as Basilio’s room. Here, have some coffee.”

“We should introduce you to bossing next time too. She’s not here at the moment,” Crispin adds. “Let’s do this again next week.”

The invitation made you smile, and you poured yourself a cup of coffee. You continued eating the rest of your meal.

“...my room doesn’t smell that, right?” Basilio asks after a few moments of silence.

“Gago, it stinks so bad. It’s why we made the guest stay at my room, because if she stayed at yours she could’ve died from how bad it is,” Crispin exclaims. “Seriously, how can you live with bringing women to your room at that point?”

“Kuya, you’re embarrassing me to our guest!”

Translations for non-Filipino speaking folks:

bossing: a somewhat affectionate way to say “boss”. Comes from the old tradition of adding -eng or -ing to ones name to make a nickname, e.g. Luciana - Lucing

Gago/gaga (ka): (you) idiot/moron - someone stupid, foolish or ignorant

Tikbalang: creature from Filipino mythology similar to a centaur. They are hulking beasts with a horse's head.

manong: a term for endearment to an elderly male relative, or elderly men in general. Originally an Ilokano term referring to the first born son in a nuclear family.

kuya: big brother. Can be used to refer to one's own older brother, someone else's older brother, or an older peer or male acquaintance.

II

Author’s Notes: This chapter was heavily inspired by Bita and the Botflies' song Manghuhula.

Warnings: brief scene of sexual harrassment

After washing up, the Twins accompanied you to the gate, exchanging glances at each other behind your back. Little did they know, you definitely noticed it.

“Wait,” Basilio says, tapping your shoulder lightly with a large hand.

Crispin takes his phone out of his pocket. His younger brother proceeds to do the same. “Give us your phone. We’ll add our numbers, and you can text us if something happens,” he says.

“Or when you get home safe,” Basilio adds.

You look at the two of them back and forth. “This isn’t just an elaborate excuse for the two of you to get my number, right?”

Neither of the two spoke, giving each other a nervous glance.

Their reaction made you laugh out loud, and you took out your phone from your bag. “Here. I’ll give you my Facespace too.”

With the tension broken, the three of you exchange a chuckle. You punch in your number in their phones, while they did the same to yours. Crispin looks over his brother’s shoulder and frowns.

“Epal,” Crispin says to his brother, snatching your phone away from him. The older twin types something in, and it’s the younger one’s turn to stick his nose in. Basilio attempts to get the phone back, cursing all the time.

“You’re going to break her phone, gago,” the older twin curses, pushing a palm against Basilio’s face. “Then let it go! You’re the epal, I wasn’t done yet,” the younger one snaps back.

You give them a look of irritation, and check out what they’re arguing about.

“What the hell are you two grown-ass men fighting about?” you ask as you butt in to look at what they’re doing.

A loud snort bubbles from you as you see it; Basilio added “the hot twin” next to his contact name. Crispin added “the hotter twin”. Now, the former wanted to outdo his older brother.

Against your better judgment, you say, “You’re twins. You look like each other. You’re both hot. Now stop fighting over my phone.”

Perhaps it’s the afternoon heat, but there is a tinge of red in their cheeks after your remark. You waved them goodbye as you got in a tricycle that’ll get you to the nearest train station.

The MRT, in some strange miraculous twist of fate, isn’t as packed as usual. It’s still populated, but there were a few seats waiting to be taken. You sit down somewhere away from direct sunlight, and you take out your phone to tell Hannah and Amie that you’re on the way home.

The first thing you see is a text from Basilio. Then, a text from Crispin. You tell them both that you’re on the train now, completely forgetting about messaging your roommates. To pass the time, you launch the Facespace app and decide to look up their profiles, only to find out that they’ve already sent you a friend request.

Upon seeing Crispin’s profile, you did your damn best to stifle a laugh.

His work description says “works at the Krusty Krab,” but that wasn’t the craziest thing about his profile. At first, the Bible verse in his bio caught you off guard, thinking that someone like him didn’t seem religious, but when you quickly looked up “Ezekiel 23:20,” you did your best not to howl with laughter.

Basilio’s isn’t any better.

In his work description, he put “Model at For Her Magazine,” and “edi sa puso mo.” Then you scroll down to see a thirst trap of him pulling his shirt up with his teeth, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks again. Well, at least that work description is believable.

They’re- what was that term your younger university friends were using again?- himbos.

They’re definitely himbos.

Arriving at your place, you slot your key inside the doorknob and twist. As you enter the door, the heavy, musky scent of sex and sweat hits your face, and you regret getting too wasted last night and losing your chance to hook up with one of the Twins.

Or both.

Both?

Regardless, at least they’ve invited you again to hang out next week.

You raise your eyebrow and cross your arms at the scene before you. Cans of beer litter the living room, and your roommates are taking a nap by the couch. A tikbalang comes out of the bathroom, glamor off, and you snort as you watch him duck under the door frame because of his massive height.

“It’s already four in the afternoon. Time to go, big guy.”

He nods awkwardly in acknowledgment, morphing into his human disguise, and exiting your apartment.

You sit between your roommates, rousing them from their sleep. “I’m not going to clean this mess up,” you tell them, motioning to the trashed state of the living room, and reaching for the remote to turn the TV on. You just want to take a shower afterwards and sleep in your own bed tonight.

After rubbing the sleep from their eyes, your roommates near-tackles you on the couch, a curious, excited look on their faces. You forgot all about what you were watching and stared at them in surprise.

“So how did it go? Did you get to hook up with any of them?” Amie asks.

“Or both of them?” Hannah adds.

“Gaga, nothing like that happened.”

The two of them let you go with disappointed looks on their faces. “So sayang! Here we were thinking you finally have a sex life,” one of them says as you lean back on the backrest, closing your eyes as they continue to pester you for details.

“Why are you two so determined to get me to screw someone?” you finally snapped, amused and irked at the same time.

“Because you’ve been doing nothing but totally stressing yourself out! See how super fun it is to let go every now and then?”

“Thanks for the new drinking buddies, girls, but I have my fingers to keep me company. Hookups are too much work,” you lie to them, eyes still closed.

“That’s a toe-curling, full-body orgasm you’re missing out on, girl!”

“That’s assuming that the person I’m with knows what they’re doing,” you retorted.

One of them pokes your side with an elbow, and you assume it’s Hannah. “The Twins do.”

You opened your eyes, and you guessed right; it’s Hannah. You give her a look, before rolling your eyes, appearing to look disinterested. The smirk tugging at the edge of your lips says otherwise, though.

“So what happened last night?” Amie asks.

“I got wasted and threw up on Basilio’s shoes. Then, I ended up sleeping in Crispin’s room. When I woke up, they fed me and sent me home,” you tell them. Your roommates giggle at the story.

“Ah, speaking of which, I gotta let them know I got home,” you said off-hand, and somehow the remark only spurred your wind people roommates on.

“Yieee, you’re friends with them on Facespace already!” Amie quips, leaning in to see what you’re typing. Playfully, you move your phone away from her to conceal what you’re typing.

“Make a group chat with them!” Hannah exclaims, taking your phone away from you. You tried taking it back, but Amie joins in the mischief and blocks you from doing so.

When you got your phone back, the deed was done, and the chat was renamed to a single eggplant emoji. The like button was replaced by an eggplant emoji too.

Panicking, you add your roommates to the group to avoid looking suspicious, and swiftly type up a defense.

“Please ignore that, Hannah made this chat using my account.”

The teasing never stopped after that.

Weeks passed and you never bothered to change it, though.

It’s been about two months since your first encounter with the Twins. You’re becoming a familiar face at The Diabolical, going every Saturday to see them. Sometimes Hannah and Amie didn’t accompany you anymore. You’ve met the Twins’ bossing a few times, who turned out to be none other than Alexandra Trese. You’ve heard of her exploits and the two imposing bodyguards who were almost always with her. It surprised you that they’re none other than the Twins you knew, but it made perfect sense. Those two were jacked, and those muscles aren’t only for show.

Of course, because of your increasing presence in the bar, it didn’t take long for the rumors to circulate. Word on the street is both of the Twins had a thing for you, and neither is making a move out of consideration for the other. They are waiting for you to move.

You elected to ignore them, perfectly happy with your arrangement of having two handsome men to keep you company while you unwind. The thought of getting together with one of them, or even both of them did cross your mind a few times, however.

Ultimately, you wouldn’t know what to do if the day comes that you’ll have to confront how you feel and choose between the two.

Do you have to?

Crispin and Basilio are twins, but they’re distinct from each other. The older is more serious, with a dryer sense of humor, while the younger is goofier, and somewhat softer. One complements the other, and they’re both good company despite their differences.

Speak of the devil. Your phone buzzes and you see that the eggplant chat is active. The Twins are inviting you to The Diabolical again.

“See you guys at eight,” you type in. Someone reacts with an eggplant to your message. Then the next few messages were nothing but eggplant emojis, followed by Basilio sending “#TeamTalong”. Crispin cusses him out for it, but sends the same message right after.

Yeah, that became a thing among the five of you.

You and the wind girls got dressed and took a taxi to the bar, your favorite jacket draped over your shoulders. Pressured by your roommates, you wore something nicer tonight; a black faux leather dress that hugs your figure deliciously. The shiny fabric added to the effect. The six bottles of Pulang Tikbalang beer the three of you shared before going out might’ve contributed to your newfound bravado.

But now that you’re actually wearing it outside your apartment, you feel a little reluctant.

“Maybe wearing this is a bad idea,” you mutter to no one in particular, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear out of self-consciousness.

Amie taps you from behind. “Oh hush, that outfit is totally sexy,” she comments. “Finally ready to get dicked down tonight, girl?”

“Shhh, gaga ka, manong driver can hear you.”

That didn’t deter them from making more inappropriate comments, much to the manong's ire.

It’s nine already when you get there, you’re in the Philippines after all. The merriment is already in full swing when you step through the door. Hannah and Amie went ahead and sat next to their lay of the week. The Twins wave you over from their usual spot, but before you can reach them, a man you’ve never seen before tries to get your attention, snaking an arm around your waist.

“Hey baby. You’re a regular here, right? Want to drink with me?”

“Sorry, I’m here with someone else,” you tell him, moving away.

“Ah, here to see the Twins? Why don’t you ditch them for a change of pace and come with me, babe?”

“Not interested,” you flat out said. “Please move, or I’ll make you move.”

To your surprise, the man drops his glamor and reveals himself to be a kapre. He looms over you, cigar in his mouth, and you can feel the tension rising. People are starting to stare, and your friends took notice of it too.

“Try,” he huffs, puffing smoke to your face. You give him a sour glare while trying not to cough.

Before your roommates or the Twins could come to your aid, you panicked and saw an empty bottle of Pulang Tikbalang on a nearby table. Emboldened by the alcohol in your veins, you shatter the bottle and point the jagged edge at the hulking beast, hands shaking. You are a tiny thing compared to the enormous creature before you, after all.

“Don’t you dare look down on me.”

“Already doing that, honey.”

“I’m not your honey,” you say as you press the edge against his stomach, not enough to draw blood, but hard enough to hurt.

“I love it when they fight back,” the kapre croons.

Under the haze of alcohol, you were more than ready to shove the edge in, consequences be damned.

Before things could escalate, Crispin takes the broken bottle off of your hands and steers you away from the stranger, while Basilio steps in to defuse the tension. “Hey, why don’t you back off, pal? Our friend said no. You wouldn’t want us to tell our bossing to ban you from the place because of this misunderstanding now, don’t you?”

Heart in your throat, you turn to the Twins, then to the kapre. The tree giant pauses, looking at the three of you, then smirks.

“Heh. Fine. But if you torpe whelps don’t make a move, I will.”

The giant puts his glamor back on and skulks away.

“Wow, what a jerk! He only left you alone when the boys stepped in,” Hannah quips, tossing her hair in indignation.

“You almost didn’t need rescuing, but I’d hate to help Hank mop the blood off the floor later,” Basilio comments, nudging you gently with an elbow. His eyes go a little lower from your face, and you see him look away.

You realized Crispin hasn’t let go of you yet.

“C’mon, let’s just go,” you tell everyone. Crispin proceeds to remove his hand away from your shoulder, and you take your usual seats by the bar.

The bar is loud, but the silence between the three of you is deafening. Even Hank seems to have taken notice, eyeing your usually loud and cheerful group.

“What’s up with you three? What happened back there?” the older man asks, leaning over the bar top.

“Just a handsy kapre who couldn’t take no for an answer. I won’t let it spoil the night,” you answer him.

“That’s the spirit. Holler if he tries something like that again, I’ll have him kicked out,” Hank replies, setting down three ice-cold beers in front of you guys.

Yet somehow, the conversation never livened up.

Three bottles of Pulang Tikbalang later, you’ve had enough.

“This is about what that kapre said, isn’t it?” you finally say, slightly pissed.

The Twins look at each other with guilty expressions, and simultaneously nod.

“Do you boys wanna talk about it?”

They look at each other again. “Shit, this is awkward,” Crispin comments, scratching his head. Basilio nods in agreement, uncharacteristically silent. “We didn’t want to pressure you into anything you didn’t want to do,” the older twin continues.

“Look, I don’t want to ruin my relationship with my kuya just because we’re interested in the same girl,” Basilio says. “Same here,” Crispin adds.

“So we were waiting for you to make your own move,” Basilio continues.

“Ah. So the rumors are true,” you sighed.

“We’ll accept whatever outcome there is. If you choose me, or Basilio, or neither because this is fucking messy, we totally get it,” the older twin says, leaning back to stare at the ceiling.

Now the decision rests in your hands.

“Why don’t we talk about this somewhere more private?” you ask them.

You watch as both of them gulp. “Where do you wanna talk?” Basilio asks.

“Anywhere private.”

“I just cleaned my room earlier. Why don’t we continue this there?”

You nod, and they lead you away from the bar.

Looks like it’s going to be a long night.

Translations for non-Filipino speakers:

epal: in Filipino slang, usually refers to a person who inappropriately presents himself in a situation or butts into a conversation.

kapre: a tree-giant from Filipino mythology. Often described as very tall, dark, and hairy. Almost never seen without a cigar.

sayang: literally means waste. Can be used alone as an expression similar to "what a waste!"

torpe: someone who cannot spit their romantic or sexual feelings out to a crush or love interest

III

Author’s Notes:

Warnings: Smut. Filthy smut. Writer-is-definitely-going-to-the-second-circle-of-the-Seven-Circles-of-Hell-levels-of-filthy smut. Bawal bata, tulog na. If you're under 18 please turn back.

After the door closes behind the three of you, you sit on the bed, while Crispin sits on a chair near his brother’s desk. Basilio locks the door, and leans against it, unable to look at you.

“Right. So. How are we going to deal with this?” you ask them, crossing your legs.

“Don’t ask us,” Crispin says, swiveling the chair to face you. “You’re the one caught in the middle after all.”

Curse his choice of words.

“This is too weird,” Basilio speaks up. “If you want me to unlock the door, just say the word. We can walk out of this like nothing happened.”

“And then what? Things are going to be awkward between the three of us, I just know it,” you say to him, palming the back of your neck. “Things might get awkward with Amie and Hannah too, and I live with them. I don’t want our tropa to disband just because of relationship drama.”

“What about Amie and Hannah? Is it because we have history with those two?” Crispin asks.

“They’ve been trying to set me up with either of you. The fact that they also slept with you in the past also doesn’t help. Shit, this is messy.”

“Er, um,” Basilio stutters. “That might’ve been our fault.”

You furrow your brow and cross your arms. “Keep going.”

The Twins look at each other, as if gauging who should explain the situation. “So, we remained in contact after being used as a prize for bossing’s race with Maliksi, right?” Crispin starts.

“Uh huh.”

“Well, they mentioned a third roommate in passing and joked about lending us to her. Of course we blew them off, then Amie showed us a picture of you. We got curious and asked them to introduce you,” Basilio continues.

“I didn’t expect us five to become friends. And now we’re in this mess,” Crispin adds.

You look at them back and forth, and laugh in resignation. Elbows digging against your lap and palms pressed against your face, you rub your face and run it through your hair. “Amazing. Just amazing. See, I have a problem too.”

The Twins didn’t respond, eyes fixated on you.

“I like the two of you.”

You feel the air shift around you. Basilio’s standing upright by the door now, and Crispin straightened up too. The room is so quiet, you can hear them gulp in anticipation for what will happen next.

“There. I said it. The reason why I haven’t made a move at all is because of this exact moment that I was dreading. I didn’t want to choose,” you admit, feeling the blood rush to your head. “I just wanted for us three to stay like that, drinking buddies sprinkled with sexual tension.”

“And you’re in the middle, enjoying our attention,” Crispin says, crossing his arms.

“Selfish, I know,” you admit, head hanging low.

This is it, the moment that can make or break you three.

“Us three. If only...” you whisper, only for the words to fall flat on your tongue

You stand up, gathering your things and carrying your bag. “Nevermind. What a mess we’re in. I’ll go so you two can sort things out between the two of you. It’s been a fun ride.”

Basilio doesn’t move from the door, and behind you, you can hear Crispin getting up from his seat.

“We can still make this work, right kuya?” Basilio starts, looking over your head to give his brother a knowing look.

“Yeah, I think so,” Crispin replies. “What was that you said? The three of us?”

Your eyes widen, and you look at them back and forth. Their bodies are dangerously close to yours. Now you’re literally caught in the middle.

“I- uh…”

“I think we can work out an arrangement,” Basilio whispers, one hand moving to hold yours.

“Only if you want to,” Crispin adds, his breath kissing the back of your neck.

“I don’t want to lose either of you,” Basilio adds.

“Same here.”

Damn it all.

Giving in to your darkest, most hidden desires, you lean in to capture Basilio’s lips with yours, leaving his black eyes wide open in surprise. They flutter close, and he savors the kiss, slipping a tongue in. Then you turn to Crispin, and you give him the same sweet kiss as well.

“Damn, I didn’t mean like, now,” Basilio mutters, feeling the front of his trousers get tighter as he watches you make out with his brother.

Bringing your attention back to the younger twin, you loosen his tie, while you push out your ass to grind against Crispin. “Are you complaining?”

“Not at all.”

“Wait, are you sure about this? All of us drank tonight… we don’t want you to do something you’ll regret,” Crispin says, moving his hips away from you. Basilio pauses too, and wraps his hands around your wrists to still your hands, a look of concern on his face.

“Kuya’s right.”

“I’m a grown woman. I might’ve had a few bottles, but I know what I want,” you reassure them, waiting for the two to make a move. “I know I want you two for months.”

Basilio lets go of your hands and lets you do as you please, a cocky smirk on his lips. Behind you, you can feel Crispin’s gloved hands reaching for the zipper of your dress. “Really? How much do you want us? C’mon, say it,” Basilio asks, moving in to place kisses on your neck.

“I wanna hear it too,” Crispin whispers against your shoulder, and he punctuates it with a light kiss.

All of a sudden, you felt shy at the prospect of confessing your fantasies out loud. “Why don’t I just show you boys?”

“Oh no, you’re not getting out of this one,” Basilio teases. “Consider it as payback for throwing up all over my shoes.”

“You’re still- ah!- mad about that?” you ask him, gasping in the middle of doing so when you felt a hand snake between your legs from behind. The older twin slips his fingers past your underwear, circling your clit with slow strokes.

“Not mad, I just want things to be fair,” Basilio teases, pulling your dress down. He gives your breasts a squeeze, fondling and rolling your nipples until they harden, and he seals his lips over your right one. Crispin moves from behind you and he takes his place next to his twin, lathing his tongue over the left. All four of their hands pawed at your flesh greedily.

You were at a loss for words because of how good they’re making you feel, soft moans bubbling from your throat.

“Speechless already, huh?” Crispin mumbles against your skin.

“Ngh! The wind girls weren’t lying, you two know what you’re doing,” you gasped, face flushed as you watched the Twins lavish their attention on your breasts.

“Shhh, stop changing the subject. Play along, or neither of us will make you cum,” he adds, pausing to give you a teasing lick, and resting his tongue on top of the hardened bud. On the other hand, Basilio is sucking like a starved babe while squeezing your still clothed behind.

You fake a scoff of indignation and grin. “Fine. I- oh fuck- want you two so much, I’ve been fantasizing for weeks.”

Basilio pauses to address you. “Describe them.”

You’re a little mortified, but the alcohol in your system pushes you to be bolder. “I imagined Basilio punishing me for ruining his shoes.”

“And how did he do that?” Crispin’s voice.

“He asked me to suck him off,” you start, and a pinch on your bottom from the subject of your fantasy tells you that he wanted to hear more details. “He fucked my face while pulling my hair and told me how good I was the whole time and that he forgave me.”

“What about me? What fantasies did you have?” Crispin asks again.

Your breath hitched in your throat but you pushed on. “Hearing how you scolded Basilio, I imagined you taking me from behind and saying the meanest, dirtiest things possible.”

The Twins looked at each other, and stopped, their lips leaving your breasts with a lewd pop. “You want to make them all come true?” Basilio asks.

Cheeks burning, you give them a curt nod.

The two of them lead you to the bed, where Crispin puts you on all fours, and he takes his place from behind. On the other hand, Basilio is standing near the edge of the bed, the bulge in his pants inches away from your face. You stare at it, licking your lips.

As you undid Basilio’s pants, he shrugs off his suit jacket and takes off his tie, then he takes off his dress shirt, revealing his abs and the trail of dark hair on his lower abdomen, disappearing into his briefs. From behind, you hear fabric shifting, then Crispin peels your panties off of you. He brings a gloved hand against your skin in a loud smack, making you cry out.

“Ah, wait, we need a safeword,” Crispin mentions, soothingly squeezing your skin.

“What about Eternos?” Basilio suggests, and Crispin cocks an eyebrow. “Wait, you mean, like the game?”

You stifle a laugh. “I’m fine with it,” you say to them, and they take it as a signal to continue.

The older twin dips a gloved finger between your folds, gathering your wetness, and tsked. “Look at you, already so fucking wet. You want this so much, huh?”

You nod frantically, then Basilio stills your head. “Open your mouth, baby. Tongue out.”

You oblige, and Basilio fishes his cock out of his briefs. Your eyes grow wider as you take in the sight of it; girthy, with a nice length, and a few veins running on the underside. You wonder if Crispin’s is the same. The twin in front of you lightly smacks his member against your tongue, and you proceed to lick it, running from the base to the tip, slicking it with saliva. You swirl your tongue around it, then try to slide it in your mouth as smoothly as possible.

As Basilio begins to breathe harder with each bob of your head, Crispin pulls your ass towards his face, and a choked moan escapes your lips as you feel his mouth on your heat, toying with your folds before he finally finds that sensitive nub. The older twin proceeds to lick and suck at it, eating you out like you’re the best damn meal of his life.

Meanwhile, you push a palm against Basilio’s thigh to make him pause, and before he can ask you if you’re fine, you take his balls in your mouth and fondle him with your tongue. Your hand pumps his neglected cock as you did so.

“Shit! Your mouth feels so damn good,” he hisses, breathing hard. When you take his dick back into your mouth, Basilio gathers your hair and uses it as a handle, watching his length disappear in your mouth over and over, his black eyes hazy with lust and his mouth whispering words of praise.

Crispin looks at his brother with a hint of envy, cock painfully hard against his trousers. He unzips it for relief, and proceeds to stroke himself as he continues to prepare you.

“Hey, Basilio, got any lube?”

“Um, there’s- ungh- a bottle of it under the pillow.”

“...you keep lube under your pillow? What the- and condoms? Can’t you put them in your drawers or something?”

Basilio doesn’t give his brother a response and focuses his attention on you. You gasp against his cock as you felt a cold, gloved hand prod against your asshole, and goosebumps formed on your flesh as you felt the cold lubricant smearing against your entrance. Crispin pushes his lubed thumb in, and you cry out in pleasure, your jaw opening wider for Basilio to claim. Then, two more fingers prod at your pussy, and you swear you can see stars as they slid in. The older twin toys with you while eating you out, and you feel a knot forming at the base of your stomach, threatening to uncoil at any moment.

You couldn’t take it. Basilio’s cock slides out of your mouth and you look over your shoulder, moaning and panting.

Crispin pauses from eating you out to ask you a question. “You’re gonna cum? You wanna cum on my fingers like the filthy slut you are?”

“Yes, please, please, let me cum,” you begged, and with a devilish smirk, Crispin dives right back in to finish the job.

You squeezed your eyes shut as the pleasure inside you exploded, shameless moans coming from your throat as your first orgasm hits you. Basilio watches the look of pleasure on your face as Crispin makes you cum, making his cock twitch.

“Now that’s how you please a woman,” Crispin teases, shooting his brother a challenging look while wiping your juices off of his face.

“Wait until it’s my turn,” Basilio replies, smirking.

Panting, legs wobbling, you didn’t get to rest as Crispin takes his cock and slides it in you. In front of you, Basilio cups your face and directs you back to his cock, smirking. “You’re doing so well, baby. You’re taking us like a champ, you know that?”

“Fuck,” Crispin hisses from behind you. “You like this, you little slut? You like being fucked by two cocks at the same time?” he asks you, each word punctuated with a hard thrust.

Now you’re really caught in the middle.

Basilio’s panting heavily now, his thrusts becoming erratic against your mouth. You know he’s close, and you brace yourself for what’s coming. Eyes screwed shut, he lets out a low groan as he spills inside of your mouth, his cum painting your tongue white. You try to swallow it all, but a few stray drops dribble down your chin. The younger twin cleans you up, and kisses you deeply, not minding his taste on your mouth. He sits on the bed to catch his breath, and allows you to rest on his thighs.

Behind you, Crispin begins to rut faster, his thumb still in your ass as he pounded you. You writhe and cry against Basilio’s lap, bracing yourself from each harsh thrust. The younger twin pets your hair, but he moves his hand away when Crispin pushes your head against his brother’s lap.

“Take it all of it,” Crispin groans. “Ungh, you make me so horny, you little slut.”

Not wanting to miss out on the fun, Basilio gets an idea.

“Hey, kuya. Hold her up.”

Crispin blinks before obliging his brother’s request, clamping a hand around your throat. “Is this fine?” he asks you, and you nod a few times. He tightens his hold and pulls you to his toned chest, your hair sticking to his skin from your sweat. Basilio kisses you, then latches on one of your breasts. One gloved hand fondles and pulls at your nipples, while the other moves south to stroke you.

“Ah! I think I’m gonna cum again…” you choked, face red and tears forming at the edge of your eyes.

“Say our names,” Crispin whispers against your ear in a low growl.

You mutter their names at first, but it turns to full blown cries as your climax fast approaches.

“Crispin! Basilio!”

It hits you so hard, your eyes roll to the back of your head. You cried shamelessly, and Crispin places a kiss on your open mouth, tongue slipping in and teeth clashing with yours. He pulls out and finishes on your back, cock resting between the valley of your cheeks, still half-hard.

The Twins move to clean you up, looking around for tissues and anything to wipe you with.

“So,” Basilio says. “One more round?”

Your eyes widen, and you look down to see that Basilio is hard again.

“How- what the fuck? What are you two?”

Crispin sighs. “Hannah and Amie never told you? We’re demigods.”

“We don’t get sick and our injuries heal really fast. Talagbusao is our dad,” Basilio adds, and you give him a disbelieving glare.

“You didn’t need to let that last detail slip out, gago,” Crispin berates him as he pulls you close to his muscular chest. He lay down on a pillow, one arm propping his head up.

After a few seconds of silence, you say something. “At least let me have some water first.”

“Right.”

The Twins stare at each other.

“One of us has to fetch it,” Crispin says.

“What? Why me?” Basilio complains, scratching his head.

“Because I’m older, and I’ve worked hard to give her two orgasms in a row.”

“Hey! I’m sure that last one was thanks to me.”

You groan, grabbing a pillow to cover your face. “Ugh, please don’t turn this into a competition about who made me cum the most. Just get me my water, pretty please, Basilio?”

At the request, Basilio smiles and dresses haphazardly to get it for you. “Don’t start without me.”

You close your eyes with a smile. Crispin buries his face against your hair and plays with it. “You have him wrapped around your finger, you know?”

You chuckle at the remark, and Crispin kisses your temple. “Just don’t hurt my little brother.”

“I have no intention of hurting either of you,” you tell him.

Basilio comes back with a pitcher and some glasses, and once everyone’s hydrated and ready, the night continues.

The Twins spoil you with their attention, hands roaming your body as they planted kisses on your skin. Basilio sucks on your collarbone, biting experimentally and leaving marks that would darken in the morning, which draws a whine from your throat. Not wanting to be outdone, Crispin kisses your back, then the back of your neck, and he found a sweet spot that made you moan at that place where your ear connects to your neck. Basilio observes this and does the same to the other side.

“Hey, um, can I do it in your ass?” Crispin whispers in your ear, almost sheepishly, and you stare at him for a few seconds before nodding.

“Sure. Be gentle. And use a condom.”

“Of course. You go on top. What’s our safeword again?” he asks you, testing your knowledge.

You roll your eyes and try not to laugh. “Eternos.”

“Good girl,” Basilio says.

Flipping yourself around, you lean into Crispin’s lap. “Here, let me help,” you say as you grasp his cock and start to pump. The younger twin behind you reaches for the lube and prepares your ass. You sigh with pleasure as you feel the cold sensation of the product on your skin. Crispin sighs as you slide his length between your lips, head bobbing up and down, and you feel him grow inside your mouth. You give the tip a small lick before doing the same thing you did to Basilio, cupping his balls with your mouth and fondling them with your tongue.

“I want you now,” Crispin rasps, tugging your hair to get you off of him.

You smirk, turning around to give him a great view of your ass. He reaches around for a condom, finds one, and tears the foil open. After sliding the rubber down his shaft, he positions himself against your hole, pressing against the tight ring of muscle. You wince in pain as he starts penetrating you, prompting him to squeeze more lube to relieve your discomfort.

“Relax,” Basilio instructs you, planting soothing kisses at your jaw. You did as he said and unclenched your muscles, entrusting yourself to the two of them.

As Crispin pushes past the ring of muscle, you sigh in relief, discomfort replaced with the feeling of fullness. You lean back into his hard chest, a soft sigh leaving your lips as he starts to move. Meanwhile, Basilio kneels between your legs, rubbing your clit with the head of his dripping cock, but he freezes before he slides it in.

“What?” you ask with concern.

“We’re out of condoms.”

“Just pull out,” you tell him with a strained voice, gasping as Crispin moves inside you.

“No, you don’t understand. We’re demigods. Our… um.. Yeah, we’re really potent.”

You smirk at him. “I’ll ask the girls for something in the morning,” you say against your better judgment. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take. Cum all over me.”

His cock twitches at your last suggestion.

“Ugh, Basilio, you’re really killing the mood here,” Crispin strains to say, holding you gently by the neck. “I pulled out too, remember? Make up your mind already. I wouldn’t mind having her to myself for now, though.”

“Not a chance,” Basilio retorts, sliding the tip of his cock past your folds and pushing inside.

A loud cry rips from your throat at the sensations, feeling stuffed to the maximum as two cocks start to pump inside you. Crispin’s grip on your neck tightens, while you tangle your hands through Basilio’s hair, pulling him closer and kissing him.

Soon, The Twins find a steady rhythm, syncing their movement so you can feel the full force of their thrusts. Basilio throws one of your legs over his shoulder and begins to massage your clit with his thumb, while Crispin fondles your breasts with his free hand, using the tip of his fingers to roll, squeeze, and pull at your nubs. With every thrust they give, you clench, drawing a groan from both of them as they felt themselves being squeezed by your muscles.

“Oh God,” you whine. “Fuck, you both feel so good.”

“Say our names,” Basilio growls, and you oblige.

You chant their names like a prayer, underscored by the slapping of skin as the Twins fucked both of your holes. Hearing their names only spurred them on, and their movements became more desperate, sweat rolling off of your bodies.

“Basilio! Crispin!”

Underneath you, Crispin gropes at your breast harder, beads of sweat rolling off of his forehead and dripping to your skin. “Your ass feels too good, I’m gonna cum,” he hissed between clenched teeth, and you silently thank Bathala that he’s near his limit. The lube is starting to wash off.

With a few more rough thrusts, he cums, shooting inside the rubber. Crispin cups your jaw and kisses you, deep and sweet, tasting your tongue. You’re on the verge of climax now too, and you give Basilio a desperate look. He understood what you meant.

The younger twin thrusts harder and faster while still rubbing that sensitive nub between your legs furiously, and the older one helps by stimulating your nipples once again. The bombardment of sensation is too much, and you feel white hot heat racing through your body as you cum one last time, voice hoarse as a throaty moan escapes past your open mouth.

The spasm of your muscles is enough to send Basilio over the edge too, pulling out of you and spilling his load all over the mound of your pussy, and your stomach. You feel Crispin slip out of you too. Basilio leans in to kiss you, almost tenderly, but still full of desperation, tongue and teeth.

After a quick cleanup and another drink of water, the three of you lay in a heap of limbs, exhausted. Crispin doesn’t shift at all, content on letting you lie next to him, while Basilio moves next to you, effectively sandwiching you between the two of them on the narrow bed.

Everyone is sated, and with your eyes growing heavy, you wanted nothing but sleep.

“So, who’s better?”

You don’t know who said it, but you raised your hand to give him a middle finger. “Tangina niyo, you’re both good. End of discussion. Now please let me sleep.”

Thank Bathala that they did.

The next morning, all three of you wake up sweaty, stinking, and really, really hungry.

“Good morning to you two,” you sigh, snaking your arms around theirs. Each of them gave you a kiss on your temple. “Damn, I’m starving,” you said, sitting up. “Let’s take a shower and grab something to e-”

Underneath the three of you, the bed’s legs give out, and a loud thud can be heard throughout the house. As you three scramble for purchase, frantic footsteps are approaching, and the door bursts open.

“What was that? Crispin is missing from his room and-” Hank blurts, toting his good ol’ triple barrel shotgun "Ama, Anak, at, Espiritu Santo". Funnily enough, when he sees the tangle of limbs before him, he utters the same words and quickly turns away. Alexandra arrives shortly after, gives them a quick glance, and shuts the door.

Breakfast with their bossing is filled with a mortifying quiet.

You barely touch your food, embarrassment burning your cheeks, and you shoot a glance at your twin lovers.

“Next time, lock the door,” Alex finally says, getting up from the table with a coffee in her hands. She’s too fucking exhausted to deal with this.

“It’s Basilio’s fault!” Crispin yells after her. Basilio made no attempts to defend himself, knowing that he forgot to lock the door again after he came back with the water.

Grumbling, you finally take a bite of your breakfast, jacket draped over your shoulders despite the heat to hide the bruises on your body. “The girls are gonna have a field day when they see me like this.”

“I need to replace the bed,” Basilio mumbles, stuffing his mouth with rice.

The three of you looked at each other, and laughed.

“So, see you next week?” Crispin asks with a smile, and Basilio gives you a pleading, doe-eyed look.

“Yeah. See you two next week.”

Translations for non-English speakers:

tropa: ground of friends. People you chill with

tangina niyo: Filipino profanity. Roughly translates to "you sons of bitches"

Ama, Anak, at Espiritu Santo: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It’s Hank’s weapon’s actual name in the comics.

[zodiyack]

In Regards Of My Ex

Pairing: Niklaus Mikaelson x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst

Words: 2,125

Summary: Niklaus believes deceitful gossip from Aurora De Martel about his wife and takes his anger out on her. As a result, Y/n leaves and finds comfort with Cami and Davina, who call in backup to confront the big bad hybrid about his big bad dumbassery.

Note: I’ve been in a fluffy mood as of recently HOWEVER this idea was sparked when I was feeling angsty™ so...sorry but also not sorry?

Taglist: @matth1w​, @redspaceace-writes​, @fandom-puff​, @simonsbluee​, @darling-i-read-it​, @jenepleurepasbaby​, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow​, @dpaccione​

Masterlist | The Originals Masterlist

Part One. Part Two. Part Three.

“That wife of yours has been sneaking around with my brother. Breaking more hearts than just yours from what I can see.”

“I suppose some people just can’t see the worthiness of the king in front of them. If I were your wife, I wouldn’t be like Y/n. I’d be committed you and never give you fib tales like her.”

“You are aware that Y/n has been plotting something nefarious against you, aren’t you?”

“I know you wanted to marry someone just as sinister as you, but perhaps you should’ve checked where her loyalty lied before tying that knot.”

Aurora fed him stories such as these, and many more, each conclusion of the lies spewing from her mouth something appalling about Y/n. At first, Klaus didn’t listen, but as her stories grew worse and worse, the faux feeling of treachery intensified. He knew it was unwise to believe anything that came from the spiteful, jealous woman...yet, his distress caused pain to strike his heart and he yearned to know the truth.

Although, in this case, the “truth” wasn’t actually very truthful.

She often told him things like that Lucien was going after his girl for the second time, first with her when she had her chance and now, his beloved wife. Klaus merely brushed it off with an honest “he tries and I’ll stake him first chance I get”. However, Aurora wasn’t finished yet. She continued to lie and deceive Niklaus about the woman who she accused of replacing her in his life. The envy and loathing Aurora felt for Y/n was her motivator, but the woman was too far up a wall to need one in the first place.

“Are you telling me the truth?” He growled, keeping his eyes trained at the wall in front of them.

“Why do you ask?”

“I need to know I can trust your bold claims. So answer me, Aurora, are you telling me the truth?”

That smug little grin, masking her deluding ways. “Of course, Nik. I would never lie to you.” Her welcome into his trust was unsurprisingly taken advantage of  when she traced her finger down his arm and then brought her hand up his abdomen slowly. Klaus shoved her invasive hand off of his chest though, giving her a warning glare.

“Thank you for informing me.” That was all he said to her before he made his way out of the room in the most hurry she’d ever seen him in.

Aurora smiled conceitedly. Her plans were on the right track. Whilst Nik didn’t have the same feelings for her now as he did way back during the beginning of their story, but Aurora was determined to stir those feelings from the dead as vampirism did him and her.

She drawled under her breath, “I will have you again, Nik.” her mischievous smile grew wider, “I will have you again, and nothing can stop me this time.”

“Blasphemy!” Niklaus shouted, veins popping out from the rage coursing in his system. He neared Y/n again, the slight fear in her eyes drawing a pause for a second, guilt stilling him, but his anger took the reigns once more.

“It’s not blasphemy! I would never lie to you!”

“The falsity of your deception proves otherwise, love.” He smirked, raising his brows as to question if she would battle his words yet again. Proof was what he needed, but his vexation had drowned out all logic, including his ability to see the proof he wanted so desperately.

“What deception? What falsehood do you believe to have come from my mouth? When I married you, I vowed to be truthful and loyal. You of all people on this fucking earth should know I always keep a vow.” She narrowed her eyes at him. The betrayal he thought he felt was temporary and fabricated, but hers was 100% genuine and seething within her.

“You say that but if you were indeed an untrue person, your answer would be no different.”

“Why do you insist on proving me a traitor!? What has pushed you so far past your breaking point that you actually accuse me, your wife, as a viper?”

“Don’t you pretend like you don’t know the malicious schemes you’ve plotted against me or the affairs you’ve had with men who obviously aren’t your husband!” He couldn’t stop himself now; “I’ve loved you for centuries and you decide to be disloyal and ill-natured?!”

“Says who?!”

“Says Aurora!” After the words flew from his mouth, a tiny part of him realized just how fucked up it sounded. Just how fucked up it was that he believed her over his wife, but the hybrid was stubborn. He was too stubborn to change his belief or admit his fallacious accusations were unjust without proper evidence.

Y/n knew Aurora and Klaus’ story. Her knowledge of the ancient and long forgotten tale made her reaction thousands of times worse. “Aurora? ...Huh. You choose to believe her- that manipulative, lying bitch, over me? I thought you knew me better than that.” She wiped away a rebellious tear, “I thought I knew you better than that.”

Disappointment hung heavy on her features, drawing a feeling of shame from Klaus. Y/n glared at him one last time, her knitted brows and vaguely teary eyes evidence of the heavy-heartedness that overwhelmed her. She bit the inside of her mouth and shook her head disapprovingly before turning and walking out the front gate-doors of the Mikaelson mansion. Klaus was alone.

The sounds of Davina’s giggles echoed, Cami sitting in front of her and chuckling heartfully as well. Their laughter died off when they noticed Y/n sulking through the front doors of Rousseau's. The place was empty aside from the two women having drinks and a friendly chat. Then Y/n entered and found a seat. The atmosphere, once cheery, suddenly felt melancholy.

“Hey, Y/n, you alright?” Camille’s smile was wiped from her lips. She felt empathy for Klaus’ wife and, as a friendly person in general, she felt overcome with the need to help solve the complication that made her feel so down in the dumps.

“I’m-” She was ready to say fine, Davina and Cami knew it, but she broke down in tears before she could even shape an “o” with her lips. Both women jumped up immediately and sat in the seats beside Y/n. Though Davina couldn’t stand Klaus, she actually liked Y/n and seeing her hurt sent searing pain into her own heart.

“It’s okay, hun,” Cami wrapped an arm over Y/n’s shoulder, her other hand rubbing her other shoulder and arm comfortingly, “take as long as you need, there’s no pressure, no rush, none of that. We’ve got you.”

And so they did. The two women took turns holding Y/n as she cried, and before long, she was ready to talk. She explained Klaus’ anger and the source of their fight, the source of the fake news he’d lashed out because of. Davina and Cami shared a glance when Aurora was mentioned, both women already hating her but equally despising her even more now. Y/n sobbed, crying into Cami’s shoulder about wanting Klaus to just believe her. She said she loved him and because of that, she felt pained by his lack of belief in her.

“He’s not worth it if he can’t see how wrong that decision was-”

“I know, but he’s my husband. I vowed to love him always and forever, to never leave his side, and I intend to keep that vow...so long as he doesn’t do anything to fuck it up any more than he already has.”

The sun began to sink into the dark, not fully quite yet, but still creating it’s beautiful array of colors as a final act before disappearing for the night. About halfway through Y/n’s rant, Cami called Hayley and gave her a summary of what she knew so far. A promise of arriving as soon as she could was returned on Hayley’s end before the line went dead and Cami returned to the table.

Still not entirely after sunset yet, Hayley swung open the door to Rousseau's, catching Davina and Y/n off guard. Despite being the one who called her, Cami stayed seated. Y/n and the witch beside her exchanged confused expressions.

“Are you just gonna sit there or are you gonna tell me what the hell I need to do to Klaus?”

Y/n chuckled softly, wiping away more of the salty tears, before standing and walking over to Hayley, greeting her with a hug. “You don’t have to get involved if you don’t want to-”

“No, trust me, I have to and I want to.” She pulled away and dropped her warm smile, giving Y/n the most serious look she could muster. And as she was Hayley Marshall, it was effortlessly pretty fucking serious. “Now, I want you tell me everything,” the mom voice came out to play, “don’t leave a single detail out. Then, we can discuss what we’re going to do about it.”

“Where is he?”

Rebekah had been informed by the pissed off werewolf and bartender everything that had happened, resulting in her becoming equally upset. She welcomed Hayley inside the gates and nodded her head up the stairs. “I haven’t said anything to him, so you’ll be lucky enough to catch him by surprise.”

The werewolf nodded in understanding before pacing toward the stairs irritability. “Thanks.”

“Make it hurt!” Rebekah’s voice faded away as she walked out the gates, leaving Hayley alone to find Niklaus.

Atop the stairs, she found no sign of anyone whatsoever, but that was only on the outside. If Klaus happened to be inside on of the many rooms, she wouldn’t waste her time searching. Instead, she waited, leaning against the railing and doing a breathing exercise Y/n taught her during one lonely full-moon. 

After minutes of waiting, Klaus finally walked out of a door and started for the stairs. It wasn’t longer than a minute before he stopped in his tracks and realized he’d missed something. He shot a double take in Hayley’s direction, a puzzled expression quickly finding way to his face. It seemed as though he was contemplating whether or not her unexpected appearance was a good thing or a bad thing.

When he seemingly couldn’t make up his mind, staring a few minutes longer, a heavy sigh left her mouth. She was ticked off with him before, but after hearing everything Y/n had to say, she was furious. No, more than furious. The blood boiling rage was incessantly pounding in her head, all she wanted was cause destruction and pain. A rare thing for her.

But now was not the time to lash out, not yet. She inhaled and exhaled, Hayley shifted on her feet and looked around before turning her head to Klaus and beckoned him over to her with a come-hither motion of her index finger.

“What is it?”

She looked at him, flabbergasted that he’d even ask a question as stupid as that, “What is it? What is it, Klaus?” Hayley slapped him, the man doubling back and blinking in astonishment. And not the good kind.

“How dare you lay your hands on me, you-”

“So you’re gonna yell at me now?” She crossed her arms, and unimpressed look resting upon her face. “You know, personally, I think Y/n is better off without you but she’s broken and has been bawling her eyes out nonstop for hours on end, drinking away all the pain that you’ve formed into a stake and shoved into her chest.”

He stopped, fury fleeing his face as he experienced what felt like her words body-slamming into him.

“And guess who’s been there to pick out the splinters?” She poked her finger against her chest over and over again. “Me!” Her eyes never left his, telling him just how sincere about this she really was. “Me! Cami- even Davina!” Hayley threw her hands in the air, emphasizing the shock that came with the information. “Rebekah’s on her way over now, and I’m sure Elijah will see to it that he comforts his sister-in-law as much as he can, but you?”

“I-”

She cut him off, temper still unquenched, thirsty for vengeance. “Let me finish.” She growled. Hayley looked around the room in attempt to calm herself, but it was to no avail.

“You got her into this mess. I just hope you get both of you guys out of it.” She flicked her eyes back to his, giving him her infamous dead eyed glare. “I really hope you do. And you better do it soon. Because I won’t be there to pick the splinters out for you when she realizes she doesn’t need your sorry ass.”

[itsadamcole]

frenemies

fem!reader x kyle o’reilly

reader is a member of the Undisputed Era and is a guest on Adam’s stream with the rest of the boys, but there’s been a tension building between reader and Kyle that implodes while on stream ...

word count: 5.6k

warnings: angsty, full of smut (hehe), kinda fluffy at the end

— i began writing this pre-ue break up and finished it post-ue break up :) —

masterlist || request an imagine here

~ 18+ content below - read at your own risk ~

Adam convinced you to come over to play video games on his stream. Accepting that offer was your first mistake. You knew Kyle would be there as soon as Adam said, "The boys and I were gonna stream today on my Twitch if you wanna join us." You should've said no, but you didn't put two and two together.

For weeks, somethings been going on with Kyle, and you don't know why. He's been acting more distant from you and when you actually talk to him, he makes short comments and barely says three words to you. You don't understand why and you've never been good at confrontation. Kyle was your closet friend in the Undisputed Era, but he's been cold toward you for weeks.

On Thursday at one, you pull up to Adam's house. Roddy's car is here but Kyle and Bobby aren't here yet. You grab your phone and turn off the car before getting out and walking up to the door. You knock three times and wait for someone to answer.

Britt Baker answers the door. "Hey! Y/N, glad you're here. I wondered if Adam invited you," she says, greeting me with a hug. "I guess you're going to be on stream, huh? You're not here to hang with me and Marina."

You laugh and say, "Maybe I'll stay a little bit after the stream is done to hang out with you and Marina. Roddy brought the whole gang over I'm guessing."

With that said, Marina appears in the foyer and says, "He did. He thought that I should hang out with Britt while the stream is going on. Troy is in the living room watching some of his father's favorite matches.:

"Of course," you say, smiling. "Let me go greet the guys and I'll sit with you guys until Adam says it's time for the stream to start."

Britt lets me walk past and I greet Marina with a hug before strolling over to Adam's game room. I can hear his voice and Roderick's voice coming from the room as I pop my head in. "Hey, losers," you say. Adam and Roddy both look at you and both men smile.

Adam says, "Hey, Y/N. I'm just explaining everything to Roddy. I'll catch you up when Bobby and Kyle get here."

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Kyle. You keep a smile on your face as you say, "Great. I'm excited. What are we playing?"

"I was thinking some Wii Bowling," Adam says. "Or something Wii related. Maybe some VR games as well. I have Beat Saber, which is fun to play."

You sit in Adam's gaming chair and say, "Wii sounds fun. It's been a while since I've played Wii."

Roddy and Adam both laugh as Adam finishes up.

Bobby gets here about fifteen minutes after you and Troy run in after him, crawling onto your lap on Adam's chair. "Aunt Y/N, what are you gonna play with daddy, Uncle Adam, and Uncle Bobby?" he asks, curious. You smile and hold on on your lap.

"We haven't figured that out yet," you say. "I'll let you in on a little secret though." You lean into Troy's ear and your voice drops to a loud whisper. "I'm gonna beat your dad and your uncles."

Adam, Roddy, and Bobby all look at me and Adam goes, "Hey! I'm the professional gamer here."

You stick your tongue out at Adam and say, "I'm a professional Wii player."

Troy giggles and says, "Yeah! Aunt Y/N is gonna kick your butts."

You laugh and that's when another voice chimes in. "Who said that Aunt Y/N is gonna kick our butt?" You turn your head and look at the doorway.

Kyle. He's finally here.

"Uncle Kyle!" Troy says, scrambling off your lap and running over to Kyle. Kyle hugs the little man and picks him up.

Roderick looks at you then looks at Troy in Kyle's arms. "Alright, buddy," Roddy says. "Time to go sit with mommy and Aunt Britt. Maybe they'll give you a snack if you listen to them."

Kyle puts Troy down and he runs into the living room with Marina and Britt. Kyle closes the door behind him and turns to his Undisputed Era brothers and "bro hugs" them. Then he turns to you and you open your mouth to say something but Kyle says, "Surprised to see you here, Y/N. I didn't think Adam would invite you."

Adam looks at Kyle and says, "Bro-"

You cut Adam off and say, "I'm a member of the Undisputed Era too, Kyle. Or do you not remember saving me from an assault by Toni Storm then helping me secure the NXT Women's Championship against Io?"

Roddy, Bobby, and Adam all stare between you and Kyle as Kyle says, "You're only a member by storyline, Y/N. You're not an actual member."

Your eyes widen and Roderick jumps in saying, "Woah, Kyle. Dude, she's a member of the Undisputed Era. Storyline or not."

Adam says, "Alright before things get out of hand, let's get this stream started. You guys ready?"

Everyone nods. You keep your eyes on Kyle though, trying to figure out why he's making so many hurtful comments. Adam sits in his chair in front of the greenscreen and puts his headset on. You stand beside Roddy while Bobby and Kyle stand behind you too. Adam's going to make introductions. This is a surprise to his Twitch community that you're all going to be on. It's his 200th stream, and it was Adam's idea to bring you all onto the stream.

He looks at the camera and says, "Alright. It looks like I'm live. Is my early crew here?" He pauses and smiles. "It is the 200th stream, you're right. I have a surprise for the 200th stream but I want to wait for more people to get in here before I tell you guys what the surprise is."

You sigh and Roddy says softly, "You seem nervous, Y/N. You nervous?"

Shaking your head, you whisper, "No. I'm fine."

Adam says, "Alright. There's a decent amount of people in here now. Do you guys want to know the 200th stream surprise? It might, how do you say it, shock the system." He smirks and winks a few times at the camera before waving you over first. "Okay, so first we have Miss L/N."

You jump into the frame behind Adam and smile. "Hey," you say before glancing at the chat. "Woah, hi, everyone. Looks like chat is excited."

He laughs and says, "Y/N isn't the only surprise. We got the whole gang here. Roddy, Kyle, Bobby." The three of them join you in standing behind Adam. The chat goes wild and the viewership goes up by a couple thousand. Adam looks at the four of you behind him before looking back at his chat. "Woah, it's going by so quick. So many gifted subs and bits, holy crap."

"Is this a PG stream?" Bobby asks.

Adam nods and says, "Yeah."

You and Roddy both laugh because Bobby likes to curse so much. All of you have to remind him to stop cursing while in the ring sometimes. It's crazy how much he likes to curse, but you like to too so you can't say anything.

That's when Kyle takes his first on-stream jab at you. "Y/N, you better watch your mouth," he warns you. "Adam won't be happy if you start dropping f-bombs on his stream."

To get back at him, you say, "You better watch your mouth before I kick your butt in whatever game we're about to play."

Kyle glares at you and Adam says, "Alright, so I was thinking of games we can play and it's recently been brought to my attention that Y/N is a professional Wii player so let's put that to the test and see just how good she is. Y/N? Game options?" He looks back at you and you begin to think.

"Wii Sports," you blatantly say. "I wanna beat Kyle's butt just because I can."

The group laughs, except for Kyle. You look over at him and smirk. Roddy puts a disk into Adam's Wii console and hands remotes to all of us. Kyle doesn't get one because only four people max can play Wii Sports.

Kyle says, "What about me? I didn't get a remote."

Bobby looks at all of us as we connect our remotes then says, "Maybe you can share with Y/N. I'm sure she wouldn't mind bowling every other frame."

Mentally you groan but physically you say, "Yeah, just pick up your spares, O'Reilly." All of you pick the Miis that you made before the stream. You and Kyle are third to go, and you both decided to throw every other frame. You'd get even frames and Kyle would get odds, so he starts off the game for you both.

Roddy misses a spare in the first, Adam strikes, Kyle picks up his spare, and Bobby gutters then knocks down seven pins on the second shot.

Half the game passes and you're having fun with your doubles partner. Kyle doesn't make any snide remarks toward you and actually cheers you on when you make a spare or strike. In the eighth frame, he actually gives you a high-five.

As Kyle throws the ninth frame, you lean and whisper in Adam's ear while he's out of frame, "You set this up, didn't you? Making Kyle and I team up like this?"

Adam shrugs as Kyle strikes. You get excited and actually hug Kyle. You're now right behind Adam in scoring. Bobby has no chance at winning the game, Roddy isn't that far behind you, and you are just seven pins behind Adam.

You watch as Adam throws his tenth and final frame. He strikes and picks up his spare. Now you're twenty-seven pins behind the leader of the Undisputed Era. He threw a 156 game. You and Kyle can get a 159 if you get all three strikes in the tenth. Technically, you just need two strikes and eight pins on the third shot to beat Adam with a 157 game.

Kyle watches as you get the first strike in the tenth. He cheers for you. You sigh and get ready for your second shot. You strike again. Eight more pins and you beat Adam.

Then it happens. Kyle has had all game to do something to you and he does it just as you throw the ball. It over hooks and you only knock down three pins. You lost by four pins because Kyle decided to yell, "Let's go, Y/N" at you and he scared you so much you jumped, affecting what the ball does on the screen.

The look on Kyle's face was priceless when you turned to him. He looked terrified. "I had it, Kyle!" you shout, kind of annoyed at him. Then you snap. "You just love when I prove myself wrong, don't you? I don't get it. We were so close and all of a sudden, you start acting differently. It's like I did something to you and I don't know what I did."

"Y/N-" Kyle starts.

You cut him off and say, "Save it, O'Reilly." You shove the remote at him and leave the game room. You walk into the kitchen, needing a glass of something to keep you from absolutely losing it.

He didn't need to yell it. He could've done anything else except yell it. It scared you so much that you messed up the winning shot.

Britt and Marina walk into the kitchen and Britt asks, "What happened? You stormed out of there and you looked angry."

After chugging a glass of water, you say, "Kyle happened. Again. He's been up my ass for months and I don't know what I did to deserve this. We were like best friends and he was so excited when I joined the Undisputed Era. Now all of a sudden he's saying the only reason I'm in the group is because of storylines and he's making sure that I prove myself wrong. I say I can beat the guys and he yells something, scaring me, so I mess up the shot and losing to Adam."

Marina sighs and says, "You need to talk to him, Y/N. This pent-up frustration isn't going to do either of you any good."

"I'm not good at confrontation, Marina," you explain. "I never have been."

There are footsteps that come into the kitchen and you look behind the girls to see who it is. It's Kyle. You roll your eyes and try to ignore him even as he says, "Y/N, I'm so sorry. I didn't know that it would scare you like that. I wouldn't have done it if I had thought-"

You snap and say, "You haven't been thinking, Kyle. Not recently, anyway. These comments you're making hurt me. It hurts when you tell me I'm only in the group because of a storyline when you all welcomed me into the group a few months ago."

The girls leave the room, leaving me and Kyle alone. You sip off another glass of water as Kyle says, "I felt like things were changing with us, Y/N. That's why I started acting the way I have been. I pushed you away because I was scared."

Annoyed, you ask, "Scared of what, Kyle? Scared I was going to do something that would risk our friendship? I noticed it too and I was scared too, but I didn't start making rude comments toward you." Finally, you meet Kyle's eyes. They're full of sincerity and regret.

Kyle says, "Come back to the group. I'm sorry for yelling and making you mess up your shot. I promise I'll be good."

"I don't trust you," you say. You have every right to not trust him. Every time he tells you he'll stop making comments, he does it again. He does it multiple times. "You say that then break your promise. It's happened several times at this point, Kyle."

He looks kind of hurt at your comment. Then something inside Kyle snaps and he says, "Such a hypocrite. You tell me that you'd never make hurtful comments but then you say you don't trust me."

You put the glass down and say, "Maybe you understand what I've been going through for the past few months now, Kyle." Tears sting your eyes as you stare at Kyle. "Do you know how many times I've been alone in a room after you've left and I've just cried? Do you know how many times I've wondered what I've done wrong that has made you treat me this way?"

Kyle almost shouts, "It's nothing you did, Y/N! You haven't done anything except being the kindest and the most caring human being toward me for years. I just started to fall for you and it scared the hell out of me so I just pushed you away."

Your jaw drops. You had noticed that your friendship may have been treading into the more than friends territory but you didn't know that Kyle was falling for you this entire time.

The man in front of you is the most vulnerable than he's ever been. He just told you the one thing he was terrified of telling you at risk of ruining your friendship with him.

He avoids eye contact with you as you leave your spot by the sink and walking over to Kyle, who stands on the other side of the kitchen island counter. He doesn't look at you when you approach his eyes and look up at him.

You'd be lying to yourself if you didn't admit that you might have been falling for Kyle as he was falling for you. Kyle's always been so sweet. He cares for you and the boys, and he's never afraid to show his soft side. Sometimes that side of him shows up on television, and you're guilty of trying to coax that softer more adorable side of him out in front of the cameras.

Whenever you and Kyle would be together, it felt like the world around you stopped. Whether that was having a conversation in your shared locker room with Adam, Roddy, and Bobby or just hanging out at your apartment or his house. It was always you and him against the world, and you just want that back.

Kyle still avoids your eyes as you examine his face as he looks at his hands on the counter. You rest one of your hands on Kyle's and he finally looks over at you. He stands at almost six foot but you're at five foot six so he doesn't tower over you. It would be so easy to just lean up and kiss him.

Fuck it, you think before you grab the collar of his shirt and pulling him down to you. Your lips crash to his and both of you gasp as your lips make contact. You're hesitant with kissing him at first but you slowly gain confidence, pressing your lips harder to his. Kyle pulls back and looks at you, panting slightly. "I don't want your pity kisses, Y/N," Kyle says to you.

"Who said it was a pity kiss?" you question, raising your eyebrows at him as you look up at him.

He sighs and says, "Y/N-"

You shake your head and say, "No. I'm not going to let you talk yourself into it being a pity kiss because it wasn't, Kyle. It was anything but a pity kiss. If your dumbass didn't start pushing me away then it could've happened sooner."

Kyle looks down at you and says, "I don't know what you mean."

Sighing, you say, "I noticed our friendship changing too, Kyle. I mean it. I was ready for you to possibly take the next step by asking me on a date or by kissing me. Then you started treating me differently and I thought it was all in my head. Maybe if you just talked to me instead of saying hurtful comments then maybe I would have kissed you before right now."

"So," he sighs. "That wasn't a pity kiss?"

You smile and shake your head. "That wasn't a pity kiss," you confirm. You slide your hands from the collar of his shirt to his cheeks, where you cup his face. "That was the farthest thing from a pity kiss."

Kyle asks, "Do it again?"

Laughing, you get on your toes and kiss him softly. This kiss is slower but more passionate than the last. Kyle actually touches you, resting his hands on the sliver of bare skin exposed between your loose black crop top and your light blue high-waisted ripped jeans. Kyle turns and presses you against the counter before he reaches down and sits you on the counter. You hold Kyle close, scared to let him go.

Your heart races in your chest. This is everything you've wanted for so long. You've wanted to call Kyle yours for months. After today, maybe he will be.

You pull Kyle closer to you and he leans forward, almost pushing you back onto the kitchen counter. That's when you pull back and giggle, "I don't think Adam would like the fact that we're making out on his kitchen counter. I'm sure he and Britt eat here."

Kyle smiles and kisses your jaw softly before he says, "He has an extra guest room upstairs. I don't think he'd like it if we did anything in his house but I think he'd prefer a bedroom than his kitchen counter."

Smiling, you lean your head back a bit as he kisses your jaw and says, "I'd prefer a bedroom than the kitchen counter too."

"Then let's go," he says, taking your hands. You smile and hop off the counter. "We can't make a lot of noise though because Adam is doing a PG stream right now and the walls in this house aren't exactly thick."

You nod and look up at Kyle. He's almost glowing since he told you how he felt. You feel so happy that everything is out in the open. You don't like how he pushed you away instead of telling you how he felt, but you can get over that if it means that everything can go back to how it was.

Kyle smiles and walks out of the kitchen. The stairs are in the living room, which means you have to walk past Britt and Marina to go upstairs. This is going to be interesting.

You and Kyle walk into the living room hand in hand. Britt and Marina look over at the two of you and Britt's eyes widen. Marina points and says, "That was not a thing a few minutes ago."

Your face gets all flustered and you look up at Kyle. He says, "Well, it's a thing now. And if you excuse us, we need to make up for some time. Upstairs. We'll be quiet."

He leads you upstairs and Britt says, "Keep the sheets clean, please. Condoms are in the bathroom." Kyle chuckles as you both get up the stairs.

"The guys could have heard that," you gasp as you reach the top of the stairs. Kyle cups your face with his hands and presses you against the wall.

You stare up at Kyle as he says, "They'll just be jealous that I'm finally getting everything I want." You grab at Kyle's shirt and hold him close to you.

He kisses your forehead and you close your eyes, asking, "Everything?"

Kyle nods and says, "You're all I want, Y/N."

Your eyes open and you meet his eyes. His face is close to yours and you lean your head up, lips barely touching his. "You're all I want too, Kyle," you say in almost a whisper. "You're all I've wanted for months. There's a reason why there was no one else after I broke up with Murphy a few months ago. It's you. You're it for me, Kyle."

He pushes your hair back out of your face and he says, "He never treated you right, Y/N." He tilts his head, almost kissing you.

"You will?" you ask.

Kyle nods and says, "One hundred percent I will treat you better."

You grow tired of being close to Kyle without him kissing you so you get on your toes, kissing him. The kiss is quick and needy. Kyle stumbles with you to the guest bedroom and kicks the door closed with his foot. You're pressed against the door, kicking off your sneakers while Kyle runs his fingers over the exposed skin on your stomach. You shiver under his touch before you pull at his shirt. Kyle pulls back from the kiss and pulls off his shirt. You run your fingers over his tattoo and see the thing on his arm that monitors his blood sugar levels.

"Are you okay to, you know?" you ask, trailing off.

Kyle glances at his arm monitor and says, "Yeah. I took my meds and I ate so I'm okay. For at least the first round, anyway."

You giggle and say, "Mr. O'Reilly, you don't plan on keeping me for the rest of the day and the night, do you?"

He attacks your neck with kisses before he says, "One round and cuddles then we gotta join the boys to finish Adam's stream. We can negotiate what happens afterward later."

Your fingers run through Kyle's hair and you sigh, "Less talking, Kyle. Please."

Kyle smiles against your neck and walks back to the bed. You pull off your crop top, exposing your black Calvin Klein bra. Kyle's eyes are on your body as he sits on the bed. He kisses your stomach and unbuttons the jeans you're wearing and you watch his fingers. He pulls the jeans down, leaving you in nothing but your underwear.

You slide down to your knees in front of him and pull down his loose sports shorts, leaving him in his boxers. You look up at him with innocent eyes and run your fingers over the bulge in his underwear. He sighs softly and leans back on his hands.

It's been a while since you've been with someone, but it's Kyle. Your nerves were shot just kissing him.

Kyle says, "I can see the wheels turning in your head, Y/N. If you don't want to do anything then we don't have to."

You say, "I want to. I want ... you."

He sits back up and pushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear before he says, "You have me."

With that finally said, you smile and leave soft kisses on his knee and thigh. Kyle smiles and you trace over his hardened member in his boxers for a second before you hook your fingers in the waistband. You hesitate for a second before you pull the thin fabric off his body. His erect dick pops out and you gasp at the sight. He's bigger than you thought it was, but you definitely won't complain about it. "Shit," you sigh.

Kyle laughs and watches you. You take his member in your hand and stroke him a few times. Kyle whines softly and lays on his back as you kiss the tip. You nestle yourself between his knees as he legs hang off the bed. Slowly, you begin to take him in your mouth. Kyle gasps and runs his fingers through your hair. Your hands move to his thighs as you bob your head up and down, sucking occasionally.

Soft noises leave Kyle's lips and they go straight to your core. You slip one of your hands into your panties, rubbing yourself to relieve yourself a bit. You moan softly and Kyle gasps, "Keep doing that and I don't think I'll last as long as we both want."

You slowly pull away from Kyle's member, wiping away some saliva that has rolled down your chin as you sucked Kyle off. Kyle sits up and kisses you hard. His hands are on your face as he pulls you up. You straddle his waist and he rolls so he's hovering over you, not breaking the kiss. Your tongue slips into Kyle's mouth as the kiss intensifies.

Kyle's fingers slide down your body until they get to the waistband of your panties. He hesitates before you take his hand and guide it into your underwear. His fingers make contact with your slick folds and you gasp. Kyle pulls back from the kiss and says, "Already so wet for me, baby."

"Only for you," you gasp as his pointer fingers circles your sensitive clit. Kyle kisses down your body and pulls off your panties. He throws your legs over his shoulders and your core is completely exposed to him.

He kisses your inner thighs, close to your soaked sex. You whine and look down at Kyle. He kisses closer to your core. You shiver with anticipation as he finally runs a finger through your folds. You gasp and lay your head back on the bed. "Kyle," you sigh. "Please. I've waited long enough. Tease me later."

Kyle looks up at you and asks, "So there will be a later?"

You look down at him between your legs and you say, "Only if you do something now and don't tease me."

He bites his lip softly for a second before he finally dives in, kissing and sucking on your clit. You let out a soft moan as his tongue circles the sensitive bud. You grasp onto the blankets and smile as he makes you feel euphoric and full of bliss. His finger dips into you and you gasp, not expecting that. Kyle moves his finger in and out of you as you are pulled closer to an orgasm.

Once Kyle adds a second finger and continues to suck on your clit, it's basically over for you. Your legs shake as you are literally seconds away from your pending orgasm. "Kyle," you cry out as he curls his fingers slightly. "Kyle, baby, I'm about to cum."

"Let me taste you, Y/N," he says before continuing to suck on your clit.

Seconds later, your toes curl and you cry out Kyle's name as you release all over his fingers. Kyle hums softly as he tastes your juices and cum. You pant as he gets on his knees and licks his lips. You watch him and try to catch your breath.

He made you cum in minutes just from his mouth and fingers. You begin to wonder how long you'll last when he finally fucks you.

You sit up and leave a few soft kisses on Kyle's chest. Your hands are on the side of his body, holding him close to you. Kyle runs his fingers through your hair and says, "I need to grab something, Y/N, and you need to let me go so I can go get it." Pouting, you let him go and he climbs off the bed. "I promise I'll be quick." He leans down and pecks your lips before putting on his boxers and walking out of the room. You scootch back on the bed a bit as you bite your lip gently.

Kyle returns with a little silver package and closes the door. He walks toward you on the bed but you say, "Lose the boxers before you get on this bed, O'Reilly."

"So demanding," Kyle teases, stripping out of his boxer shorts. "I kinda like it."

Smirking as he crawls toward you, you giggle, "You would." Kyle smiles and hovers over you as you lean back so you're laying on your back. Your hands cup Kyle's face and you stare up at him.

His eyes scan your naked body beneath him and you get a little self-conscious. "You're so beautiful, Y/N," Kyle sighs. "I don't know how I went this long without touching you or kissing you. I really was a dumbass, wasn't I?"

You say, "You were, but I can forgive you for that." You smile and lean up, kissing Kyle. He props himself up on his arms and kisses you back. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close.

Kyle pulls back from the kiss after a second before he opens the little package. He slides the contents on himself and you watch as he hovers over you again.

Kyle kisses you and you quickly slip your tongue into his mouth. You smile against his lips and you feel his tip run through your folds. You sigh and slide your fingers into his hair.

You hold Kyle close before he pulls back and asks, “Are you sure you want this?”

Nodding, you say, “I want this. Please.”

He smiles and he sets himself up at your entrance. You take one of his hands and hold it as he slides into you. You whine and gasp as his length fills you. Your eyes squeeze shut and Kyle asks, “Okay?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I’m okay. Keep going.”

Kyle continues to slowly slide himself into you. You grip his hand until he’s completely inside of you. He lets you adjust and you nod when you’re ready for him to move.

He begins to thrust slowly, making you sigh softly. You wrap your legs around his waist, holding him close as he picks up speed.

Soon, the room is filled with your moans and the sound of skin slapping. Kyle’s thrusts are hard and fast into you. His lips are on yours as he tries to silence your moans.

His lips leave yours and attach to your neck. Your back arches off the bed and you sigh, “God, you make me feel so good. I love how good you make me feel.”

Kyle mumbles, “I love you, Y/N.”

You smile after Kyle’s words. His tip finds your g-spot and you cry out, “Fuck, right there. Oh, God, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

“I would never even think of stopping,” Kyle pants as he fucks you.

Moments later, your legs begin to shake and a pit forms in your stomach. Your lips are on Kyle’s again, passionately kissing him as he thrusts hard into you.

Kyle’s movements get sloppier and your whole body seems to shake as you’re pulled closer to an orgasm.

You whine, “Kyle.”

He says, “Cum for me, baby. I wanna feel you cum again for me.”

Soft whines and moans pass your lips as the pit in your stomach bottoms out and you release on Kyle’s length inside you. He cums into the condom. He helps you both ride out your highs before he collapses onto you.

Both of you are sweaty and panting as you recover. Kyle smiles and buries his face into your neck.

“Worth the wait,” he pants.

You giggle and look at him. “Did you mean it when you said you loved me?” you ask.

He looks up at you, meeting your eyes before he says, “Of course I did. I’ve been falling in love with you for weeks. I didn’t just say it and didn’t mean it, Y/N. I would never say it and not mean it.”

You lean your head up and peck his lips before you say, “I love you too, Kyle. Does this mean that we’re together?”

Kyle smiles and says, “Let me take you out on an official date then we’ll talk about it.”

[mst3kproject]

Battle of the Worlds

Several times on this blog I've featured movies that have more than one title.  In almost every case, the new titles were better than the original one, and this is not an exception.  Battle of the Worlds is fairly bland, but it tells you that you're going to be seeing a movie about some kind of space-based conflict, without giving away the details.  The Italian title was Il Pianeta degli Uomini Spenti, which is a fucking spoiler.

An earlier draft of this review contained a couple of jokes about the classically phallic 60's spacecraft in the movie, but I went back and took those out.  Bezos has really set a whole new standard for Giant Dong Rockets and I can no longer accept anything less.

A group of astronomers have just discovered a rogue planet, which they have dubbed the Outsider, is entering our solar system. Everybody is worried about it hitting Earth except for nasty old misanthrope Professor Benson, who says it'll be a near miss.  As it turns out, nobody's exactly right – the Outsider doesn't hit us, but it doesn't just pass by, either.  Instead, it settles into orbit, and when humanity attempts to explore it, it responds by sending out squadrons of flying saucers to blow our rockets out of its sky!  After one of these crashes on Earth, Benson is able to learn how to deactivate the Outsider’s defences and land on it, where humanity can finally confront its inhabitants... or can we?

Well, if you speak Italian, you already know the answer, because this is The Planet of Extinguished Men. The aliens are all long dead and their spaceship has been following its programming for millions of years without them, including the part telling it to destroy the Earth.  Bummer.

I actually have quite a bit to say about this movie.  It centres around some interesting musings about human emotion and curiosity, though it never comes to any solid conclusions.  As a movie, unfortunately, it's not very well-made.  This is a story in which the world as we know it nearly comes to an end more than once, and yet very little seems to happen in it.

The opening sequence is terribly clumsy and does very little to place you within this world.  We start off with two characters kissing and being excited about starting a new life together, but we have no idea at this point who they are or why they want to leave this place. When the Outsider is discovered, the scientists beat around the bush and try to keep it a secret, even from the audience.  Only Benson is willing to be upfront about it.  This does establish him as a realist while making his colleagues seem spineless, which is what the movie wants, but it's also terribly frustrating for the viewer.

Later there's a sequence in which a craft attempting to land on Mars is nearly destroyed by the gravity of the Outsider, and some quick thinking saves the astronauts' lives, but this is directed like the battle sequences in Invasion of the Neptune Men. We have no idea where any of these craft or planets are in relation to one another, and have to rely on characters sitting at desks to tell us what's happening.  Even worse, we never see the chaos the looming end of the world wreaks on society.  Astronauts who have recently returned to Earth note that they've heard there have been suicides and riots as people fear the Outsider will impact our planet, but we never see any of this.

The movie does a little better later, when the Outsider's close approach causes disastrous tidal forces... these are represented by black and white footage of floods and volcanic eruptions tinted red to try to make it match the rest of the colour film.  As always, this fails, but at least they tried. Other special effects are equally pathetic.  There are the inevitable plastic model kit rockets with their flame exhaust that rises in what's supposed to be a zero-gravity vacuum.  The 'flying saucers' the Outsider launches to defend itself look like nothing so much as giant fried eggs.

The Outsider itself is particularly sad to look at.  They have a model they use for it in a few shots, but this is about on a par with the original MST3K spaghetti ball.  In other shots, the Outsider is represented by a photograph of the Moon.  Absolutely no attempt is made to disguise it, and so of course the effect is a dismal failure because everybody knows what the goddamn Moon looks like. They couldn't even, I don't know, turn it upside-down or something?

On the other hand, the inside of the Outsider is actually pretty cool.  The sets aren't exactly believable, but you can see what they were going for.  Upon entering the caverns, the explorers find themselves in a series of tunnels full of strange red tubes and textures that look more organic than geological. Entering the Outsider is like wandering around within a living organism.  My favourite part of this is that absolutely nothing we see here is comprehensible.  Professor Benson, the genius, claims to be able to figure out what's going on, but his declarations seem arbitrary and nothing we're looking at makes visual sense.  Even the aliens don't look like anything in particular.  Were it not for Benson, we would not recognize them as living (or dead) creatures.

Like First Spaceship on Venus, Battle of the Worlds is much more interested in its ideas than in anything else, including what is supposedly its plot.  The characters are important mostly as the embodiment of those ideas, rather than as people in themselves, and the ideas the movie wants to study are about logic and emotion and how they affect human priorities.

The character of Dr. Fred Steele finds himself facing the potential end of the world, and decides that the most important thing to him in this situation is the love between him and his fiancee, Eve Barnett. Professor Benson, on the other hand, thinks the most important thing is to understand the threat they're facing.  Partly this is so that humanity can save itself from destruction, but knowledge for its own sake is also important.  In between these two men is Eve herself, who thinks love and science are both important and tries to find some middle ground between the two.  This is difficult for her, because Benson wants her to stay at the observatory and assist him, while Fred wants her to leave with him so they can get married.  When Eve tries to convince Fred to stay with her, both men see this as her having chosen Benson, and it poisons the relationships between all three parties.  Only with Benson dead are Eve and Fred able to strike a balance again.

But the movie doesn't want us to think that there is no middle ground.  The movie's other romantic couple are the two scientists from the Mars Base, Bob and Cathy.  They got married because they were both lonely and a psychological evaluation suggested that they had compatible personalities.  As the story progresses, however, they find that they have indeed fallen in love and want a future together that would include things like children – but this is ultimately denied to them, as Cathy is crushed by falling debris while exploring the Outsider.

Benson dies when insists on staying aboard the Outsider to try to decode its computers despite the fact that the military is about to destroy the entire object.  As the others escape, Fred intones the movie's beauty killed the beast line: “poor Benson, if they opened his chest they'd find a formula where his heart should be.”  And yet Benson died happy – as the Outsider explodes he is triumphant in his ability to understand its secrets, and laughing at the foolishness and cowardice of his fellow man.  It is the survivors who are miserable, mourning the loss of Benson himself as well as of Cathy, whose death was entirely meaningless.

I'm not sure what the movie is trying to tell us about these different approaches to life.  It seems to present them as ultimately incompatible, that attempts to give logic and emotion equal weight can only end in tears.  Only Benson, who was unswerving in his devotion to science, is ultimately satisfied. Perhaps the take-home message is that whatever your principles are, happiness lies in following them to their conclusion.

There's a second message, too, in different approaches to science itself. Modern physicists will often describe themselves as either theoretical or experimental... the two fields do compliment each other, but they often take place in different rooms, and one will be seen as leading the way for the other.  The search for the Higgs Boson was theory-led: people were pretty sure it existed, they just had to find it.  A great deal of astrophysics, however, is result-led: what we see tells us that there are things going on, like dark matter and dark energy, that we know nothing about, and the theorists must do their best to figure it out.

For most of his life, Benson has been a theorist.  He sits in his greenhouse chalking on the floors, spinning theories out of other people's results or out of pure mathematics.  Until the arrival of the Outsider, he had no interest in going out and exploring or experimenting.  But it quickly becomes clear to him that he cannot understand the Outsider through pure theory, as his calculations cannot account for the decisions of its makers.  In order to know it, he must see it for himself, so he grandly announces his intention to leave his 'den'.  Nobody ever asks him if it was worth it, but his maniacal smile at the moment of his death suggests that it was.

Battle of the Worlds had potential to be a really interesting movie, but ultimate the way its shot and edited make it mainly a very dull one.  Like its own characters, it fails to find the balance it needed.

[jaskiersvalley]

Look I knew from things my friend reblogged that you have A Gift but now I'm following you and crying every time you post because it is ALWAYS top quality and I am but a poor little goblin with Feelings. You are my favorite and I love you. (also "oh what a hairy valley it is" is fucking hilarious I laugh every time I read it)

You are my new favourite and I love you too! Especially because you find “oh what a hairy valley it is” funny. As thanks, I hope you like a bit of a twist on the Witcher Wolf Pack and their Bard in a modern setting.

Street life was harsh but the wolves had learned how to play the game over the decades. Witchers had become nothing more than myths and they had died out. Or rather, they faded from visible existence and found ways to get with the times. But nobody really wanted grizzly, musclebound men with facial scars so the wolves of Kaer Morhen were left behind by society. It wasn’t like they could get paperwork and ID needed for work and rent, so they lived on the fringes, accepted the ‘help’ of a sorcerer. It wasn’t much better, living on the streets as wolves most idiots mistook for large dogs. But at least they could slink around relatively undisturbed. They could shift forms as they needed but most of the time, they remained four legged.

They had a whole system worked out, honourable as much as thieves could be. Because they needed to steal, needed food and money to survive. The back alley that they’d pulled blankets and cardboard boxes to had become home. But they couldn’t live off things they fished out of the dumpster all the time. It was how they ended up with a range of schemes and ploys.

Easiest was the sad, scared puppy game. It was one that Lambert excelled at, looking vulnerable. If he rolled in a puddle first, he could look exceptionally pitiful. His scars showed up the least too and, as the youngest, he often got the most response. Some days he would hang around outside a food shop and whimper at those going in. The more generous humans would emerge with their shopping plus a little something for him. When something was thrown his way, Lambert would snatch it out of the air and run, hide the stash until he could haul his trophies home to share.

More elaborate was the teamwork of Vesemir and Eskel. They didn’t pull it off often because it was much more dangerous for them both. At some traffic lights where cars were slowing down, Eskel would step in front of a car and get clipped. He’d perfected the art of just getting a glancing bruise on his shoulder but it sounded impressive enough. Once the car stopped, Vesemir, in his grizzled old glory, would fling himself in front of the car with a whimpering howl. That usually got everyone’s attention, the poor old dog, shaking and quivering on the floor. It was enough of a distraction for Eskel to shift to human form and dive into the car, pulling anything of value out. They had to be so careful, not taking anything from those who obviously were in need. That was on top of the constant worry that Eskel could actually get hurt or Vesemir would get carted off to the pound. But the few times they did it, they often got enough things to pawn or, once, a shopping bag full of party food.

Geralt was too bulky to look sad in front of a shop, he got chased with a broom more often than not. He also didn’t have Eskel’s light fingers to steal from cars or Vesemir’s gravitas to look convincingly injured. What he could do though was pickpocket and steal bags. It was so easy to walk pad through a square, a stray dog nobody paid attention to. A snout in a passing pocket resulted in a mouthful of wallet. And the times someone put a bag down to look at their phone or, rarely, to pet him, he could pick up the bag and trot off without much fuss. The other thing Geralt did was trail buskers. He learned about them, knew those who were busking for fun and those who needed the coins tossed at them. Those who did it for a hobby, Geralt had no qualms about ambling up to and snuffling their things. It usually earned him a pat on the head and a laugh. It meant he could curl up with whoever it was playing and, at the end of their stint, Geralt could snuffled a little more under the pretence of curiosity. Nobody ever thought to look in his mouth to find the coins they could have sworn were there.

It was a great ploy until a new busker turned up. Geralt couldn’t get a read on him. The man looked and acted like a peacock but he smelled tired and hurting. Before Geralt could even approach him to investigate, the man was setting his instrument to the side and reaching out in invitation for Geralt to join him.

“You might need a bit of rest.” The man said and pulled a water bottle from his pack. Shoving his handwritten sign of gratitude from the plastic container, it was filled up with water instead. “It’s a warm day, I doubt there are puddles around for you.”

It turned out, the man chattered a lot when he wasn’t playing. He was called Jaskier, had no real family to speak of and loved singing. There was an art to speaking a lot without saying much and Geralt knew Jaskier was a master. In the evening, when Jaskier packed up, Geralt couldn’t bring himself to take any of his coin.

“If you’re ever in the area, you’ll always have a blanket to rest on with me,” Jaskier promised and waved to Geralt. It was only then that Geralt realised that not once did Jaskier touch him.

Once a week, Geralt sought Jaskier out. It was oddly relaxing and on his third visit, Geralt found he had actually fallen into a deep sleep, trusting this stranger to keep him protected. Of course, the others teased him about it relentlessly. Late at night when they were all sprawled in their alley with a rare treat of beer Eskel had managed to snag, they laughed about Geralt’s crush.

“Fine. You go see if you can do better,” he grumbled.

From then on, the wolves took turns and each came back suitably cowed. Eskel had taken the first chance to go see Jaskier for himself. He’d come back subdued and quiet. “He told be about his White Wolf,” he’d said. “How I must be his brother because I’m just as handsome.”

There was nothing handsome about Eskel, or so he thought. His scarring in wolf and human form had his lip pulled up and, as a wolf, he looked like he was continually snarling, teeth bared.

“He wasn’t scared,” Eskel whispered in wonder.

Unable to believe it all, Lambert went to see Jaskier next. He only came back late at night and refused to say anything. It was only later the next night that he whispered to Eskel that he’d tried to goad Jaskier into hurting him, to prove a point. And he got belly rubs instead. Which were a lot nicer than anything Lambert had experienced in a long time, so he had to slink off and think for a few hours before returning home.

Vesemir still had his doubts. His three pups might have been taken in by the singing stranger but he was suspicious. Determined to get to the bottom of their infatuation, Vesemir set out to spy on Jaskier. It didn’t go as well as planned because he was spotted and beckoned over. Even worse, there were freshly bought treats in Jaskier’s pocket, coming out to appease him.

“You look like you could be their father,” Jaskier prattled, handing over another treat. “The same noble, ancient look they’ve got. Living on the streets is no easy feat and I imagine you’ve done it your whole lives. But your pack seem wonderful. You ought to be proud of your boys.”

Vesemir would have thought it all some great, cunning plan were it not for the fact that he could smell the street on Jaskier. Obviously he’d been sleeping in hostels or the like until recently. And yet there he was with the best treats he could afford for a bunch of stray dogs who he knew to be wolves.

From then on, Jaskier enjoyed the company of a wolf beside him for four of the seven days of the week. Geralt slept on the blanket, running and eating in his sleep. By contrast, Lambert was needy, demanding attention and petting, constantly by Jaskier’s feet. Eskel liked to lie calmly and watch, sometimes he’d howl along and get laughs. Occasionally trotting off and coming back with a snack or a drink for them, clutched carefully in his mouth. The first time he presented Jaskier with a sandwich, he man had looked both scandalised and then blissed out as he bit into it like he was starving. Vesemir was by far the calmest, he watched Jaskier rather than the crowds around them, keeping track of how things changed.

“He sleeps on the streets,” he told his pups one night. “I worry for him.”

They couldn’t find Jaskier though, it was a large city and there were a lot of places to hide. By pure luck, they were settling down into a tangle of limbs, tails and fur when they heard voices.

“Just hand it over and you’ll live.” A menacing voice growled.

“I can’t give you that. It’s how I make what little money I have. I’ve already offered you everything I can!” That was definitely Jaskier.

“Along these parts, our word is law. You’ve not paid your dues and now we’re raising fees.”

There was the soft thump of someone being struck and the smell of blood. The wolves were up on their feet as one, quietly padding closer to investigate. Jaskier was on his knees, guitar behind him along with his usual pack which looked like it had been rifled through already. Opposite him were three men, one of them with a nail studded baseball bat.

“I think you need to be taught a lesson,” the man snarled and raised the bat. It arced through the air and there was the sound of it striking flesh and a sharp whine of a wolf in pain rang through the alley.

“What the fuck?”

Geralt was laid flat on the floor and panting, white fur staining red. The other three wolves were snapping and growling at the attackers while Jaskier knelt and watched in awe. Lambert jumped first, jaw latching around the wrist holding the bat and shaking his head.

In two minutes, the attackers were running, bleeding and cursing and the alley was silent save for the panting of the wolves. Eskel and Vesemir shared a look as they approached Geralt. They shifted, ignoring the gasp of surprise from Jaskier.

“You need to shift, pup,” Vesemir stroked over Geralt’s head. “Let us get a better look.”

It took a moment longer but Geralt was human once again and wheezing.

“Fuck,” he gasped, hands clenched in fists.

“Let them sort it,” Lambert murmured from just behind Jaskier, making him jump. “It’ll be okay. Geralt’s just a drama queen.”

“A drama queen with broken ribs,” Eskel grumbled. “At least the nails didn’t puncture his lung.”

In all of that, Jaskier was quiet and surprisingly unafraid. Puzzled, most definitely but he didn’t panic or run.

“Will he be okay?” he asked, soft and worried.

“He’s a strong one, survived a lot worse.” The reassurance from Vesemir lifted a little of the tension. “Why aren’t you running and screaming?”

“Why should I? You saved my life and you’re the wolves I’ve known for weeks now. It’s nice that you can talk back now.”

That seemed to settle matters somehow. And the wolves got a fourth act in their repertoire. Now, Jaskier sang and busked with the protection of a wolf by his side at all times. And, when he returned back to the alley, he always shared his bounty with the others.

“And when I get famous, you’re all coming with me. We’ll tour the world together,” he promised each night from the centre of the wolf pile. It usually earned at least one tail thump or a chuffed out wolf-y laugh. The wolves might have indulged him in such fantasies but they were the ones who had to eat their words. A talent scout did indeed pick Jaskier up. Along with his four wolves who became his bodyguards.

Part 2 here.

[khaleesiofalicante]

hi dani- first of all.

I WOULD LIKE TO APOLOGISE TO RAFAEL LIGHTWOOD BANE, ALEC, MAX AND MAGNUS LIGHTWOOD WOOD-BANE FOR THE CALL OUT POST I MADE ABOUT RAFE LAST TIME. I LOVE YOU WITH ALL MY HEART AND *sobs*

Secondly, I would like to talk to your therapist to find out what broke you and made you this person. I have no words (I’m still gonna stay stuff but I want you to know that I have NO WORDS)

honestly, I was quite a bit pissed with Rafael last chapter but I get his point now. He didn’t wanna make that choice. The system forced him. Poor baby (I might also be feeling more empathetic now because yk- he’s d***)

I actually really liked the chapter. Everyone’s arguments were very valid tbh. Nobody was wrong. Considering everything, I think they handled it pretty well only.

I remember one of your recent asks where someone had asked about parental conflict and you said that there’s not too much of parental conflict. I get it now. SINCE YOU BASICALLY KILLED ONE-THIRD OF THE KIDS? Can’t do parental conflict without kids huh!??? VERY CLEVER SIS-

We knew someone from LB could die but I stg I thought it had to be either Alec kr Magnus but RAFAEL???? rafael??????? RAFAEL????? RAFAEL LIGHTWOOD BANE. Also, very cruel how Alec was the one who found Rafael as a kid and he was the one who finds rafael’s body too.

I just want to sah one thing-this is the perfect time for dark Magnus to rise. I mean his RAFAEL DIED. HIS BABY, HIS KID. There is no greater pain than that. I read a quote which said that there’s a term for every type of death. When your parents die you’re called an orphan. Partner dies- widow/widower but there’s no term for when your child dies cause there’s no greater pain that that and YOU ARE GONNA MAKE ALEC GO THROUGH THAT. (Also I see all your subtle references. “Magnus has never lost a child before. He hope he never has to”. “Magnus has already lost one Rafael. He won’t lose another”. Alec’s - Rafael, Rafael, Rafael in last chapter. Max knew he would be worse than Mina if Rafael was ever hurt. RUDE DANI) MAGNUS BANE IS GOING TO ABSOLUTELY END ASMODEUS ONCE AND FOR ALL BECAUSE THIS WAS JUST-.

Also- I’m laughing so hard cause Alec’s life is so goddamn traumatic that his heart attack probably be having a hard time deciding when to strike him.

Alec’s heart disease - sorry you’re gonna die soon fam

Alec- how soon?

AHD- very soon. Most people don’t survive even one shock. But I’d say tops three

Alec- *sipping coffee while looking disinterested and bored*

Alec- I’m like the president of a species that’s dying and too many people are trying to kill my fam rn. WHAT MAKES YOU SO SPECIAL? Huh?

The disease: um I mean, I’m a dangerous thing yk.

1. My son’s bf just died. He wants to go to edom now.

2. Other son’s girlfriend is dying and he wants his marks stripped.

3. It’s probably my husband’s evil dad’s doing so he also wants to go to edom.

4. *phone rings*- wait a second!. *hangs up* Oh that was just my husband informing me that my one of my son just got MURDERED.

The disease *now sobbing*- I’m sorry man I-

Alec- no need. you just let me know what time’s convenient for you to take me. I keep a busy schedule.

everyone @ last chapter

me - who’s numb to pain now and can only think of dark Magnus

Thank you. The "conversation" was not easy to write because I didn't want to take sides and I didn't want it to seem like one person was right and the other was wrong - it's often not the case in such situations.

How people are affected by these kind of laws (and resulting problems) often depends on who those people are. The way this situation affects Alec and Rafael is different. They are both right and they are both wrong. The key is to of course find common ground.

So, thank you for acknowledging that <3

THE CONVO BETWEEN ALEC AND HIS DISEASE HAS ME ON THE FLOOR KDSBFSDKVFNSDKFNS YOU HILARIOUS BEAN.

[free-pool-trash]

folklore - isaac lahey {7/?}

Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait I’ve been ridiculously busy the past few weeks 😓BUT!!! As compensation I made this part super long and fluffy with sooooooo much Isaac/reader content (enjoy it while you can because shits gonna be messy from here on out 🤭🙈)

Having said that, I don’t have my laptop right now as I moved houses and my stuff got put into storage so I’m working with the mobile version 😓 sorry in advance if formatting is weird I tried to make it better 😓 also there’s no continue reading button so sorry if this comes up on your dash 😭

Let me know what you think tho I’d really appreciate it 💕

Word count: 5.5k 🙈

Warnings: Fluff 😳, mentions of blood, Derek being a PAIN IN THE ASS, Isaac being the cutest 😌✨, ✨kissing✨, swearing

Masterlist

Tag list (open as always): @makeusfreefromthisfandom om, @cece-lives-here here, @chocolate-raspberries , @belsandthings , @dancing-tacos-23 , @truly-dionysus , @britty443 , @tanyaherondale , @furiouspockettoad , @yunsh-17 17, @random-thoughts-003 , @gloomybrieyxb , @futuristicslimemongerbanana , @linkpk88 , @big-galaxy-chaos , @im-a-stranger-thing , @riaisnotcool (I think u had a username change but idk let me know and I can fix it), @its-evita-here , @pad-foots , @sweetpeabellamyblakedracomalfoy , @bookswillfindyouaway , @what-the-hap-is-fuckening , @awkwardnesshabitat , @pieces-by-me me, @wreny24 , @kerosene-angel (if this is the wrong username I’m sorry it wasn’t working the way I had written it down so I’m assuming I just took it down wrong 😳 it it’s not you let me know and I’ll remove you), @marveloucnco o, @babypink224221 let me know if you’d like to be added <3 (strike through means tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you)

The days you’d spent in Mystic Falls bled into weeks and soon enough you were being beckoned back to Beacon Hills with a head full of things you hadn’t had a clue about two weeks prior.

There, of course, was the matter of Peter- who was now dead, well technically, he was murdered.

Derek’s first course of action as Beacon Hills’ new alpha was to break the news to you. He’d killed him but due to Scott and Stiles’ constant text updates, you knew it would’ve had to be done sooner or later. But still, you had a feeling that this wouldn’t be the last of him. That small intuitive feeling in the back of your mind told you that you’d see him again soon. You just hoped your next meeting wouldn’t be happening because you ended up buried next to him.

Over the course of your stay with Alaric, who had left you in the care of the Salvatore brothers- Stefan and Damon, you’d honed several new vampiric powers. As it turned out, some of the powers you possessed were completely unfamiliar to the vampires of over a hundred years.

You had super speed, it wasn’t just enhanced as you’d previously thought. As well as that, you’d discovered that you could run circles around both Stefan and Damon Salvatore, who were obviously a lot older and therefore should’ve been a lot faster.

And for that matter, they should’ve been stronger than you, they should’ve been able to snap you like a twig. They should’ve been able to. But they weren’t. Because not only were you faster, you were stronger too.

While having super speed and super strength was nice, mind compulsion, your most recent discovery, now that was incredible. All you had to do was look into someone’s eyes and they would become completely entranced to do whatever you told them.

Despite being over a hundred years old, neither Stefan nor Damon had ever seen a vampire quite like you.

They’d never seen a vampire who was also an empath, that, apparently, was usually more of a witch thing. Neither of them had ever come across a vampire bite which had a euphoric effect either. But having said all of that… they’d never heard of someone being turned from a wolf bite. Or a vampire who still had a beating heart, for that matter.

Your only real downfalls were that, for one, your blood’s healing capacity didn’t operate at the same speed for you as it did when being used to heal others. You’d put this down to the possibility that maybe your system had just grown too used to it. To be perfectly honest, though, you had no idea.

Secondly, your empathic tendencies were beginning to bring you down, but it wasn’t just that… it was the way in which you’d been instructed, by Damon Salvatore himself, on how to make them stop.

The plane ride home to California dragged on longer than you would’ve liked, the flight was delayed and you were absolutely starving by the time Derek picked you up from the airport. Your parents were still away, they’d travelled to Romania in search of answers to your predicament and they wouldn’t be home until at least next week, so that left Derek on chauffeur and babysitting duty.

“How are you?” He’d only spoken up thirty minutes into the car ride, you let out a sigh from the passenger seat and gave him a tired smile, you could feel the nerves radiating from him. He was afraid you’d be mad at him for killing Peter, and maybe you should’ve been, but again, you had a feeling he’d be back, and besides, spending time with Damon had helped you realise that everything wasn’t so black and white. It finally registered with you that people like Derek and Damon, the dark mysterious bad boys with secret hearts of gold- they sometimes did bad things but with good intentions.

Once you discovered this, you decided amongst yourself that you’d ease up on your not-really-big-brother in the future. Even if it meant you got hurt a little in the process. If hurting you was what he needed to do to learn his lesson then you’d be willing to make that sacrifice.

So you gave him a soft smile and answered, “Hungry.”

Derek let out a chuckle at that, nodding his head towards the backseat, drawing your attention to the three full blood bags laying on the leather seats.

A delighted gasp left your mouth as you snatched the plastic bags into your hands, wasting no time you stuck the attached tube into your mouth and began gulping the first bag down- it was definitely Stiles’ blood you were drinking, you’d gotten so used to the taste of it you were sure you could recognise it anywhere.

Letting out a happy groan you threw your head back against the headrest, “Stiles Stilinski you are a doll.”

Derek chuckled again, glancing at you fondly before his steely eyes returned to the road ahead.

It was only another 30 minutes before you were back in your driveway. “So are you staying here until my parents get back?” You questioned from the porch as Derek got your bags from the trunk of his car, the wolf shook his head with a smile, “Nah, I’ve got some stuff to do at home.”

“Derek, that home isn’t even structurally sound.” You chastised softly. Surely he’d be happier spending time with the family he still had breathing rather than living in the remnants of what used to be his.

Walking up to the porch, Derek placed your case down gently by your feet and moved himself to stand in front of you. A genuine smile painted his lips as he gazed at you, “New rule.” He stated, placing both of his hands on either of your forearms before going on, eyes staring affectionately into your own, “From now on, I will be doing all the worrying about you, alright? Not the other way around.”

With a defeated sigh, you nodded your head. “I’ll try my best.” That had been a lie. Unable to blind you with his unusually sweet sentiment, through the physical contact you could tell he was scheming.

“Good. Now, go get some rest I’ll come check up on you in the morning.” He kissed your forehead and then made his way back to his car, speeding out of your driveway and out of sight before you’d even unlocked the door.

The house was cold and empty when you’d re-entered. A shiver ran up your spine the second your feet stepped past the threshold. Something was very wrong, and unfortunately, you couldn’t tell what exactly it was that was so wrong. The feeling was unnerving, it was dark and it was agonisingly heavy. Like anxiety on steroids, lots of steroids.

Swallowing thickly, you gripped -more like clawed- at your chest. Nails scraping your skin as you attempted to catch a single breath, though it seemed that oxygen was determined to outrun you as you glanced around helplessly.

Almost twenty minutes has passed as you heaved and gasped frantically, overwhelming dread flooded your chest while simultaneously tears flooded your eyes, and still you didn’t have even the slightest idea of what it all meant.

And then it hit you. That panic- it didn’t belong to you.

Within a second you’d risen to your feet, breathing still staggered while you rushed out the front door, your vampire speed being put to good use as within seconds you were where your panic had led you. Night had fallen by now and it was completely dark, not to mention absolutely freezing, the hoodie you had on doing nothing to protect you from the biting cold in the air. The trail of feelings you’d been chasing had led you to Beacon Hills cemetery and before your eyes, there it was, the something that was very wrong.

Derek and Isaac. More specifically, Derek’s teeth buried in Isaac’s arm. You hadn’t even registered what you were doing when you ripped Derek from Isaac and violently threw him across the cemetery, the impact in which the Hale hit the tree all the way at the edge of the graveyard was a testimony to your strength. You hadn’t even used half it.

Without hesitation, you inspected Isaac’s body frantically, eyes lingering on the bloody bite across his right arm. Slowly and mournfully, your eyes met his, which were wide with shock. His heart was beating out of his chest to the point where you couldn’t ignore it.

“What did he do to you?” The question slipped out as a whisper, your anger melted away only to be replaced by dread as Isaac began to speak, “He offered me the bite and I- I said yes.”

“Isaac…” Your gaze drifted to the bite and you weren’t surprised to see it already healed. “I’m sorry.” You heard him mutter from above you, his anxiety pooling in your chest and mixing with his guilt.

Shaking your head softly you pulled him into you, your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders while his own arms held you tightly against him as you kissed his temple to release him of the intense anxiety plaguing him. “Don’t be sorry. I understand.”

He relaxed against you upon hearing your words, the two weeks you’d been gone made him realise something, he was utterly useless without you, or so he thought. He felt weak. He felt as though if he didn’t have you as emotional support he was defective. Derek had honed in on that and manipulated it to his advantage, convinced Isaac that the bite was what he needed in order to be strong by himself. To keep you safe instead of you protecting him all of the time.

“Was that really necessary?” Derek’s voice broke the moment and you found anger was surging through you once again. You separated from Isaac to face Derek.

At this point, you didn’t care what his intentions had been, you weren’t going to let him away with this.

“I’m going to give you three seconds to explain why you did this.” As Derek moved to speak you ruthlessly cut him off. “Too slow.” And with that the back of your hand met his cheek, again sending him flying, only not as far this time.

His fangs were barred now, as were yours. Both of your eyes glowing, his red ones threatening as he attempted to demonstrate his power. And yet again, you had a revelation.

You couldn’t stop the laugh that fell from your lips, a synacal and sarcastic lilt to it as you towered over Derek’s form on the floor.

“Oh I get it!” You exclaimed, lip held between your teeth in mock disbelief you pressed your palm to your forehead as you spoke, “You thought you’d go around and stalk some kids so you could add to your big bad pack. Right?” He growled at you and attempted to pick himself up, only for you to give a swift, hard kick to his chest, returning his back to the dirt.

“I guess you told him it’d make him stronger? That it’d make all of his problems go away? And what about the Argent’s, huh? Did you tell him that you were manipulating him?” It was then, again in panic, Isaac spoke up to your surprise, in Derek’s defence.

“(Y/n), I promise it isn’t like that! He told me everything, it was my choice I said yes!” You spared him a glance before crouching down to Derek.

“Well did you tell him how you usually treat your pack?” The words were dripping in venom and the guilt that radiated from the man didn’t deter you from moving forward with you verbal attack, your head turning to Isaac, your eyes sparkling with sadness as you locked eyes with him, speaking hoarsely you wondered out loud, “Did he tell you that he’s a liar? That he doesn’t know how to run a pack? That if he doesn’t understand you he’ll leave you in the dust?”

The look on his face spoke volumes as he recalled the state Derek had put you in the weeks previous.

With a final sneer in Derek’s direction you delivered your parting words, “You better treat him better than you continue to treat me or so help me Derek Hale I will tear you to shreds.”

As you angrily stormed away, Isaac stood in confusion for a second before he began to chase after you, leaving Derek on the dirt floor to help himself.

“(Y/n)! (Y/n) please wait!” He shouted as he was just starting to catch up to you. When you felt that you were at a good enough distance away from Derek you finally slowed your pace.

When Isaac finally made it to your side, he was panting slightly, swallowing the lump in his throat he nervously grabbed your hand.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, his eyes resembling those of a puppy and you could already feel your composure slipping away from you as you looked at him.

It’d been almost three weeks since you’d seen him, three weeks since you’d made out in the school basement and this definitely wasn’t how you were expecting the reunion to go.

“Isaac it isn’t your fault. I’m not mad at you, ok? I get it. I’m just worried, this town isn’t exactly kind on the supernatural.” You reassured him gently, squeezing his hand and giving him a sad smile.

“Don’t worry about me.” Isaac told you and you had to laugh, “Sorry, babe but I will not be taking my eyes off you until this town becomes normal.”

Isaac’s face was then taken over by, what could only be described as, a Cheshire Cat smile, “Did you just call me babe?” His voice was teasing and you felt your face heating up despite your freezing temperature.

Sucking on the inside of your cheek you tried your best to conceal your growing smile, you shrugged innocently, “Yeah. What about it?” The playful lilt in your voice had his smile widening even more as he began to lean down to you, his face getting closer to yours by the second.

His breath fanned across your lips when he spoke next, “I liked it.” With that, his lips pressed to yours cautiously, as if he was still unsure of whether or not it was okay to do so.

His uncertainty melted away when he felt your lips begin to reciprocate his actions and your hands moved to cup his cheeks.

The both of you could agree that this kiss was different than the last one you’d shared a few weeks ago. “Why is it that we only ever kiss when one of us is coming out as a supernatural creature?” Isaac laughed against your lips as you pulled away with a sigh.

“It would be us wouldn’t it.”

After a few minutes of nagging at Isaac you managed to put all the pieces of Derek’s plan together. Isaac himself didn’t actually know all that much, just that he was the first to be turned, but that alone told you everything that you needed to know.

Derek was now an alpha with no pack, so logically, a pack was what he was building and that would have been perfectly understandable- if he hadn’t started with your best friend.

“There’s a full moon coming up, did he tell you what would happen?” You questioned gently, ready to throttle Derek when the boy in front of you shook his head.

Heaving a deep breath you squeezed his hand reassuringly, the initial excitement of being turned had worn off and Isaac was beginning to radiate anxiety once again.

“Don’t worry okay? I’m gonna call Scott, he’ll be able to help you.” Isaac’s eyebrows came together in confusion, “Scott McCall?”

You nodded your head, “He’ll know how to help.” You tried to convince Isaac without spilling Scott’s secret. Not that it was going to stay a secret for too long, but it wasn’t your secret to tell.

Isaac shook his head rapidly, his hands moving to hold your forearms, his panic at your suggestion hitting you like a freight train as he stared into your eyes, a wild look in his own.

“No no no no. You can’t tell anyone. (Y/n) promise me you won’t tell anyone okay? If my dad finds out I’m a werewolf he’ll-“ The words came out almost as fast as you could run and his panic only intensified when his father entered his mind.

Quickly catching on to his looming panic attack as his eyes began to glow yellow you cut him off, “Isaac.”

He didn’t hear you as he kept rambling, claws growing past his nails and digging into your arm, “No he’ll kill me. Oh my god he’s gonna kill me. (Y/n) he’s go-“

Yes, it would’ve been easy to rip your arms from his grasp that was causing you quite a lot of pain as his nails sunk into your skin as his hands held onto you desperately. However, you had a feeling that his hold on your now bloody forearms was the only thing keeping him from spiralling completely out of control.

“Isaac! Look at me!” Your voice was strict but served to make his amber eyes finally settle on yours.

Gently, you finally slipped your arms out of Isaac’s clawed grip, although you were sure it would’ve been less painful to just leave them, his claws dragged down your arms while you lifted them slowly and cautiously until you replaced them with your hands, using your new grasp of the boy to provide him with some peace of mind.

You focused your energy on shifting a sense of relaxation from your own palms to Isaac’s sweaty ones as you spoke, voice soft again, “I’m not going to tell anyone. It’s just you and me, alright? Focus on me, yeah?” Isaac nodded his head, still slightly frantic but calmer than before as he did as you told and simply focused on you, “Take a deep breath.” You instructed, breathing steadily along with him until his eyes returned to their natural blue colour and his claws retracted.

A moment of silence passed with Isaac slumped against you, hands held tightly in his while he steadied his breathing. You placed your lips to his cheek and then again to the bruise forming beneath his right eye, you hadn’t noticed it earlier. You’d almost forgotten it’d been nearly three weeks since you’d been together, he’d probably been though it with his demon of a sperm doner over the time you were away.

“I’ve missed you.” It was Isaac that broke the silence when your lips disconnected from his injured face.

“I missed you too.” You replied simply, there was so much you’d planned on saying to him while you were in Mystic Falls but at the moment, you felt there were more pressing matters to discuss and again, it was Isaac who spoke.

He pulled away slightly to look at you properly, hands still clasping yours, he gave them a squeeze before he started speaking, “This pack that Derek’s building… I’m guessing you’re not in it?”

“I was never asked. But I’ve kind of already got a pack, which you are more than welcome to join.” You responded hopefully, wishing he’d agree but you knew he wouldn’t. As such a fresh beta he’d stay loyal to his alpha, but, you had to ask.

Isaac nodded his head sadly, “Scott McCall?” You let out a small laugh, at how quickly he’d caught on, “Yeah. He’s not exactly an alpha but he’s helped me out a lot, more than Derek has.”

“Derek told me that wolves are stronger as a pack, he didn’t say anything about vampires though.” Isaac went on, a confused lilt in his voice.

“I found out in Mystic Falls that vampires rarely belong to packs and by vampire nature I don’t need one, but Ric figures that it’s in my nature to want one since it’s all I’ve ever known.” You relayed the information to Isaac.

“Then why not, you know, join mine?” His lip was pulled between his teeth and he was looking at you with a hopeful expression.

“Isaac I just told you…” You said pleadingly, you didn’t want to upset him any further but you also couldn’t throw away the pack bond you’d built with Scott and Stiles when you’d first turned. If it was a matter of Isaac’s pack being made up of just Isaac there would’ve been no problems, it was the fact that it wasn’t Isaac’s pack but Derek’s.

Scratching what you’d decided about Derek earlier, you came to a new agreement with yourself: all of hell would freeze over before you even thought of easing up on Derek Hale.

Isaac threw his head back with a groan, “Come on, (N/n)! We are not going to let our love play out like Romeo and Juliet!” The way he spoke was humorous but it was obvious that he wasn’t really joking.

With a sigh you moved your shaking hands, that were now covered in scabbed over cuts as opposed to their previous status of raw and bleeding, to Isaac’s face. Your thumbs moved gently along his cheek bones as you took him in with an encouraging smile on your face as you told him confidently, “I refuse to let us become a modern day Romeo and Juliet, that’s not happening.”

You pulled him closer to you, slipping your arms around his shoulders and doing your best to ignore the butterflies rioting in your stomach when his arms wrapped tentatively around your waist.

You brought your lips to meet his briefly before fixing him with another determined look, “But listen to me, we might be loyal to different packs but I’m on your side, no matter what.”

Isaac nodded his head in understanding, “If it comes down to it, I’m always gonna choose you.” He responded honestly, arms tightening around you to hold you against his chest, his height causing his chin to be tilted downwards so that he could meet your eyes.

“I meant what I said to Derek, by the way.” You informed, Isaac’s eyebrows rose in confusion again, “If he mistreats you I’ll tear him apart.”

“Should I give Scott the same warning?” Isaac asked humorously and you had to shake your head in order to hold back a laugh.

It wasn’t until you’d separated from your embrace with Isaac that you took into account the fact that your body was now shaking with the cold.

“Come on, I’ve gotta call my dad and probably the sheriff and you’re freezing.” Isaac stated, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and leading you back to the cemetery where you noticed his overturned excavator and the dug up grave plot.

You listened with curiosity while Isaac spoke to his father on the phone, trying to explain exactly what had transpired in the last couple of hours since his shift started.

“How the hell does an excavator just flip over, Isaac?” You could hear his fathers anger through the line and Isaac fumbled for a response, “Someone, or something- I don’t know it could’ve been an animal, but it got pushed from the side and tipped over. I fell into the plot I was digging and that was it, I didn’t see the rest.” He explained weakly.

“You still stuck in hole, you idiot?” You watched as Isaac clenched his jaw and motioned to yourself when he was finally looking at you, “No. No, um, (Y/n) just got back from Virgina, she came looking for me and helped me out.”

“She still there?” His father questioned, seemingly cooling off at the mention of your name. You hated how much that man seemed to like you when he should’ve held that affection for his actual son.

“Yeah, she’s with me now.” Isaac confirmed and you offered up a fake cheerful, “Hi, Mr Lahey!”

“Invite her over while I call the sheriff and see about getting this mess cleaned up.” With that, he hung up the phone and Isaac sighed, “You’re starting to look like Mr. Freeze, let’s get you warmed up.” His arm stayed comfortably wrapped around your shoulder and as you reached up to hold his hand that was hanging over your shoulder you stopped dead in your tracks, “Isaac, I can’t go and greet your father looking like this.”

You motioned to your torn and bloodstained hoodie, immediately regretting it when his eyes widened in shock, “Did I… oh god (Y/n) did I do that?”

Not missing a beat you grabbed his hands and made sure you soothed his panic before you got a rerun of earlier.

“It’s not your fault. You’re new to this, okay? Mistakes happen and that’s fine it’s all part of the process. And look!-” You pulled off the hoodie to reveal your now completely healed arms and hands, nothing but dried blood to show that the claw marks were even there in the first place. “‘M all healed up! No harm done.” You reassured him, bringing his lips to yours to further convince him that you were okay and distract him from the guilt you could feel building within him.

Your arms, although no longer cut, were covered in goosebumps as Isaac ran his hands affectionately down the length of them. “It won’t happen again.” He promised and you gave him a shaky smile, teeth beginning to chatter, “Let’s go home?” Isaac nodded his head, nothing short of ripping his own hoodie off before pulling your arms through the sleeves and moving himself in front of you to zip it up.

You watched completely content as he fumbled with the zipper. His curls were falling in front of his eyes and his eyes were squinted in concentration. The quiet, but triumphant, “got it” he let out when he finally finessed the zipper had you grinning like a fool.

When he moved his focus from the zip and back to your face, he smiled bashfully, “What’re you looking at me like that for?”

The sleeves of his hoodie, that was miles too big for you, hung far past your wrists and brushed against the nape of his neck, your fingers finding a place tangled in his hair while you stared at him, grin ever present.

Your other hand was otherwise occupied being placed firmly against Isaac’s chest, enjoying the feeling of his rapidly beating heart, and you didn’t know it entirely. But in that moment it was beating for you and you alone.

Isaac’s hand made itself comfortable holding your waist, the other holding your own against his chest, keeping it in place.

Neither of you needed to say it. You could both feel it. But still, you found yourself uttering the words, “I love you.”

Not half a second had passed before Isaac echoed your declaration, “I love you.”

“I feel like if I kiss you right now I won’t be able to stop but I’m still freezing my ass off so… your place?”

Isaac nodded his head in agreement, “My place.”

*

Upon arrival at the Lahey residence, Mr. Lahey had greeted you with a wide smile and ushered you into the kitchen where he instructed Isaac to make you some tea, to which Isaac had to restrain a grumble as he’d been planning on doing it anyway.

Mr. Lahey was happily chatting away to you when Isaac set down two cups of tea, one in front of his father and one in front of you, his eyes lingering on you with a certain kind of glint before he turned back to the counter to grab his own cup and returning to sit beside you at the table.

Isaac was, in all honesty, losing it. He didn’t even know why. You were just sitting there, wrapped up in his hoodie, nose ever so slightly pink from the cold, talking politely to his father. It was nothing out of the ordinary but he was finding it hard to think about anything other than how his hoodie would look splayed on the floor of his bedroom.

He wasn’t very good at hiding it either, you could feel it as clear as day. Teenage boy hormones mixing with teenage werewolf hormones were causing havoc and it’d be a lie to say it wasn’t having an affect on you.

Trying to return your attention to whatever Mr.Lahey was babbling about you clearing your throat and took a sip of your tea, keeping your expression neutral as Isaac’s hand slipped to your knee under the table. His attempt to pull you into his mess of hormones was obviously successful as you found yourself ready to yell out in frustration when his hand stayed put on your knee for a solid twenty minutes before his father finally rose from the table.

“I’m going to check out the situation at the cemetery, you’re welcome to stay tonight, it’s pretty dangerous out there these days.” Mr. Lahey offered and you smiled innocently at him as he stood in the doorway, “I think I’ll take you up on that. Thank you.” The older man gave you a nod but said no more before walking out the front door.

“What the hell are you doing?” You finally burst when the front door clicked shut, whipping around to face Isaac.

“What?” He asked as if his hand didn’t start sliding further up your leg the second his father left the room.

You groaned, “Don’t ‘what?’ me when you’re about four centimetres from having your hand between my thighs!”

“Sorry.” He immediately retracted his hand, eyes wide as he realised how close his hand was to reaching the top of your thigh, “I, um, I didn’t mean to- I mean, I did mean to but i won’t do it again if you don’t want me to-“

“Isaac.” You cut him off, lip pulled between your teeth, “I want you to.” You declared and he let out a heavy sigh full of relief, “Thank God.” He muttered before he was pulling you up off the chair and right against his chest.

His lips immediately found yours and his hands were gripping your waist like there was no tomorrow.

At this point, the butterflies in your stomach were going absolutely bat shit feral when his lips began to trail past your lips, to your chin, then to the curve of your jaw. It was when his hand slipped deftly up your side to settle against your jaw that you realised just how much you’d been wanting this.

Isaac’s lips fell further to your neck and you couldn’t stop the hum of approval that escaped your mouth at the sensation of his soft lips sucking and licking at your pulse. “It this okay?” He asked in a mutter, the dainty and nervous nature of his voice contrasting greatly with the confidence and ferocity of his actions.

Your hands tugged gently at his hair to get him to meet you clouded eyes, when he looked at you you were sure that his eyes had flashed yellow, his breathing was getting heavy and you had an inkling that his lips on your neck was the most exciting thing that was going to happen between you tonight.

“It’s more than okay.” You told him with a dopey smile, letting out a laugh when he dived back into the crook of your neck, kissing your skin through a smile.

Despite your words your hands moved to his chest to push him away slightly, “But…” you started as Isaac threw his head back with a groan, “I think we should stop, and maybe revisit this after the full moon passes.”

After taking in a steadying breath Isaac nodded in agreement, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” His hand slipped into yours and he intertwined his fingers with yours, he spent a moment just looking at your linked hands with a fond smile and the look of achievement on his face. It was easy to tell, with the help of your empathic powers, that Isaac was proud of himself.

You yourself couldn’t quite pinpoint why he was feeling so prideful in the moment, but he knew. To be truthful he wasn’t just proud of himself, he was downright ecstatic. He’d been nothing more than your best friend since you were both eleven, and now, six years later he finally crossed the threshold from being your best friend to being your- well actually now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure what he is to you now.

A few hours passed before Isaac worked up the courage to ask the question that had formed in his mind after his make out session with you earlier.

The pair of you had since gotten comfortable in his bed, which was nothing particularly new. You laid on your side with your back to the bedroom door, Isaac was behind you, his chin tucked in between your shoulder and your neck with his arms around your torso holding you close to him.

“Can I ask you something?” His voice broke through the silence and you responded with a tired hum, adjusting his arm so you could snuggle closer and tried your best to stop yourself from falling asleep while he murmured softly in your ear.

“What are we?” He kept his eyes trained on the dark room ahead of him, his hand grabbing yours as you readjusted his arm and he absentmindedly began playing with your fingers, the action being successful in calming his nerves.

“What do you want us to be?” You asked sleepily in response, a small smile forming on your face as you heard his heartbeat speeding up.

Isaac let out a nervous breath against your neck and you held back a shudder at the feeling, “I was kind of thinking that all the kissing would make us a couple.” Letting out another sleepy hum, if it was even physically possible, you snuggled deeper into his hold. You sluggishly turned your head to place a light kiss against his cheek, “Then we’re a couple.”

[balillee]

The Implications of Dream’s Vault - Who is Dream Threatened by and Why?

/rp

On the stream on the 20th, we were finally given confirmation that Dream does, in fact, have a house. Sort of. I mean, if you consider that thing to be a house more than it is a trophy room, then sure, he had a sleepover.

But, now that the boogeyman’s in the clink, let’s talk shit.

There were various spaces in the museum for items of sentimental and functional significance that specifically relate to ten different characters. I listed them all in a post before for reference, but in brief, those ten characters were inclusive of Tommy, Tubbo, Techno, Ghostbur, Ranboo, Purpled, Punz, Sapnap, BBH and Sam. There were spaces in the vault for their pets, their personal belongings, and even for Skeppy - as dark as that is. I’ll go over why he needed those items specifically to hold power over this exact group of ten people.

Now, I’ll admit that it’s unlikely that these are the only ten people that can seriously do damage to Dream’s authority. However, I believe that these ten were represented specifically because they’re the most immediately threatening, either that or they’re the only ones that Dream’s ego allows him to see as a threat, or as a tool.

- Tommy- Tommy is kind of obvious. In the vault, there was a shrine to the discs, a pen for Henry and there was a spot for a piece of bedrock (it’s unclear whether or not the bedrock was for Tommy or for Techno, as they both had a piece. Or Drista, but she’s a deity, so who knows.) Tommy is the only thing that Dream is attached to, and it’s painfully obvious, hence why Tommy was able to use his own death as leverage to take Dream down. If Dream can keep things as significant to Tommy such as Henry and the discs away from him, he can eternally perpetuate their game of cat and mouse. Dream was a villain that Tommy became the catalyst for, and it’s why Dream appreciates him so much. He won’t kill Tommy, but he’ll teeter him over the edge by dangling things above his head for fun.

- Tubbo- Tubbo is also kind of obvious. In the vault, there was a post designed for Squeeks, Tubbo’s pet fox. It was made plainly clear that Dream places no value in Tubbo, but Tubbo does have some influence that he needs to take into account. Especially before Doomsday, Tubbo had systemic power and he had the final call on all things in relation to L’Manberg, and he had a large part in the actions of the Butcher Army. That, and if Tubbo was threatened with the loss of Squeeks, Dream, who views Tommy as some valiant knight, will swoop in to help him. Tubbo might not be fun to Dream, but he’s a tool to get to Tommy, and he was the final say in L’Manberg.

- Techno-  There are multiple reasons to want Techno under your thumb. In the vault, there was a spot for the axe of peace, a pen for Carl, and a spot for either Techno or Tommy’s piece of bedrock. Techno, despite what he’ll have you believe, holds a lot of systemic power. He backs people into a corner with his threats, which he’ll go through with in a heartbeat, and he’s forced people to accept his warped anarchist ideology multiple times through fear-tactics. That, and, alone, he still holds a lot of power anyway. He’s by far the best combatant on the server, he is stacked to hell, has stacks of wither skulls, and could probably level the entire server. If Techno ever didn’t agree to Dream’s plans, not only could he wave the favour around for him, but he could also threaten Carl and keep his axe of peace from him.

- Ghostbur- This one’s an odd one, I’ll admit, but there are a couple of reasons why Ghostbur could have been a threat. In the vault, there was a spot for friend (whether or not the friend that was in the vault was the real one is unclear, as another version of friend was still present in the button room.) Everybody loves Ghostbur, it’s obvious. He’s Caspar the Friendly Ghost, with his aptly-named friendly blue sheep! He takes away your sadness with his blue, and he’ll keep you company. And that’s Dream’s issue. We already know that Dream tried to kill Ghostbur around the time of the Beach Party when he was told to go wander in the snow. So why? If Ghostbur was threatened, people would be pissed. Let’s say that Dream frames Techno for killing friend, or kidnapping him, or whatever. Ghostbur would be incredibly unhappy - he’d forget it, but others wouldn’t. People would go after Techno, and there’d be full-scale conflicts because of a ditsy ghost and his sheep. By creating conflicts, Dream can whittle down the crowd a little, and he can watch people grow weak. That’s where Dream comes in and asserts his power.

- Ranboo- Ranboo, while a little more obvious than others, is definitely an interesting addition to the list. In the vault, there was a space for Ranboo’s cat, enderchest. Why Dream chose enderchest specifically, when Ranboo probably has the most pets out of anyone on the server (most of which are just kinda named after him), I don’t really know. I only started watching his streams kind of recently, so I don’t know if enderchest was his first pet, or if that was Jonald. I’d have to check. Dream has very obviously been manipulating Ranboo for a short while now. I mean, ever since he and Tommy burnt down George’s house, he probably figured that Ranboo’s good for something. Dream exiled Tommy in retaliation because he took the first possible chance to punish Tommy to such an extreme extent, and he had other plans for Ranboo (because there was no way he couldn’t have known that Ranboo was involved.) But knowing that Ranboo has chronic memory loss? Even better. It ensures that even Ranboo doesn’t remember, and when the truth comes to light about him having betrayed everyone, he’ll be completely isolated, and that’s when Ranboo folds. If Ranboo suddenly is able to remember, however, Dream can still keep Ranboo under his thumb if he has enderchest. If enderchest gets threatened, Ranboo, again, will fold, especially since he’s very susceptible to peer pressure. But lets say that Ranboo was never controlled by Dream, and that Ranboo was just trying to fill in the gaps. Let’s say that TruthBoo was just a manifestation of catastrophisation. Well, he still knows what Ranboo’s capable of. He’s a pretty good fighter, probably one of the better ones on the server I’d imagine, and he’s stacked. Dream could likely do with a combative powerhouse like Ranboo, especially one with as many connections as him.

- Purpled-  This one is definitely the wildcard of the bunch, but there is a definite reason why Dream would have need of someone like Purpled. In the vault, there was a space for DogChamp, Purpled’s pet dog. Purpled, if you’ve been paying attention, doesn’t really get into conflict, and he’s a definite neutral faction to the point that he’s barely around. But, it’s not like he won’t show up ever. If he wants to hang around, he will. Purpled’s a decent combatant, and it’s likely that Dream could have used DogChamp to get him on his side if ever there was a conflict - plus, even if Purpled was weaker than others in terms of items, it’s not like Dream couldn’t gear him up, either.

- Punz- I mentioned this before in a separate post about the double-agent Punz theory, but Dream specifically didn’t have a spot for Bumpkin - something the two of them planned to fight over - he had a spot in the vault for Punz’ shulker box. So not only can Punz be swayed with money, Punz can also be swayed by one of the most powerful items on the server - not only is the shulker box a one of a kind, it’s also something personal to Punz, and it likely holds items of functional worth too. Punz decides where he stands based on what he can get out of it, and by taking the Punzo Shulker, Punz can get something back if he works with Dream.

- Sapnap- Sapnap is Dream’s friend, and usually sided with him during conflict because of their continued friendship. So why were there spots for Beckerson and Mars, Sapnap’s fish? Sapnap is more of a rogue than George is, in my opinion. Sapnap has sided against Dream before, literally in the server’s very first war, so while Sapnap values their friendship he’s not opposed to fighting Dream.  Dream nearly revealed to Sapnap during the Spirit speech that he didn’t care about him, and it was the start of where Sapnap started to doubt his relation to Dream. Sapnap’s not an active player in the story, but by god is he a powerful one. If Sapnap is on Dream’s side, then Dream’s got his lackey, and he’s still got respect and power. And if Sapnap doesn’t agree, well what happens to Beckerson? If Sapnap knew that Dream was dangling Beckerson above his head the whole time, he’d have opposed him from the start, but he’d be completely trapped. Sapnap now fully sides with people like Tommy who, instead of taking from him and using him, will reconcile and work together instead. It was a harsh truth for Sapnap to face, but a necessary one. Sapnap’s not tied to Dream anymore.

- BBH- BBH is also an interesting one, and this one’s definitely the darkest. In the vault there was a two-by-one cell designed for Skeppy, BBH’s best friend. Not only would BBH do anything for Skeppy, their life forces are canonically tied together. BBH is effectively immortal, and only loses a life when Skeppy does. If Dream has Skeppy, then he’s more than able to whittle away BBH with ease and eliminate him entirely if he doesn’t do his bidding. Kind of like a three strikes and you’re out system. Not only that, but BBH is definitely one of the most powerful players on the server. He’s the leader of the Badlands, the server’s most powerful militia. They have the combative and systemic power, they have the ambition, they have the people, and they have the land. If Dream controls BBH, Dream controls the Badlands.

- Sam- There was a space in the vault for Fran, Sam’s dog, and there’s a very, very good reason for this. Sam is the self-proclaimed most stacked man on the server, he’s the head authority on the prison, he has ties to the Dream SMP and Snowchester, he’s a member of the Badlands, he’s cracked at the craft and he’s a technological genius. Sam once almost waged a war because Ponk killed a fake Fran, that’s how much he cares. If Dream controls Sam, Dream has full freedom to put anyone he wants in the prison if they dare threaten his authority. He could even put Sam in there, if he felt that Sam was too much of a threat. Sam’s probably one of the most important people on this list simply because of the influence and power that he has alone, and he’s not even the leader of anything.

So there we go - here’s the proof you need that Dream is a fucking nutcase.

[hasquetzorkukudoneanythingwrong]

Foggy Fate

Recently Rex and Quetz had dealt with two annoying situations, both of which had left Quetz in a situation that Rex hated to see her in. First was a meeting with another universe's master, who decided to immediately start fighting and had managed to beat out Quetz with his servants by a bit of luck. Second was in Madrid where a trap specifically meant for Quetz had weakened her and had her captured by the enemy.

The two managed to come out fine in both situations, Rex even gaining new symbiotic powers in Madrid, but he still hated how it happened at all. He got paranoid, and wanted to prevent any similar scenario from happening again. One measure was that he requested many of the caster servants create a special charm to prevent Quetz from getting harmed by any magical traps like in Madrid.

But suddenly, the control room had detected a singularity. Nothing major, but needed to be addressed soon.

Rex: another one? We've been seeing a lot of these lately.

Da Vinci: might be a bit of a side effect of the lostbelts. Singularities happen all the time anyways but these have been different.

Sion: this one's in London, same time period as the London singularity of The Grand Order.

Rex: interesting...

Da Vinci: it's not nearly as big an issue, but we'd still like you to take a look.

Rex: I will, but I'm not taking any risks.

Under normal circumstances, these small singularities would be handled by Rex and Quetz, but after the last two incidents he felt he needed to take further measures. For one he brought in Jalter as backup.

Sion: bringing in some backup?

Rex: yeah... I won't be having Quetz harmed again...

Quetz: I understand your feelings mi amor... but still a bit embarrassing...

Rex: I realize that, but... that's reality unfortunately. Besides we know Jalter's dependable backup.

Jalter, blushing a bit: ...thanks master...

Sion: anyways, we need you all in the coffins soon.

After the 3 entered their respective coffins it was time to rayshifting.

3...2...1!

The three found themselves in the foggy streets of London. It looked like a ghost town, not a soul in sight. Not too unique for singularities but still unnerving.

Da Vinci: ...huh, that's odd. About the same time you got there, we've detected another life signature and a servant.

Quetz: ...could it be another universe's master of chaldea?

Sion: that's a very strong possibility. If they're anything like the last one... then be on your guard.

Rex: don't need to tell me twice

Jalter: do you know where they could be?

Da Vinci: yes... a few blocks away

Rex: ...great...

Meanwhile, with the other universe's master: Maya.

Maya: so you've detected more servants?

Maya was sent in to deal with the same problem, she brought along her surrogate daughter Abigail Williams.

Da Vinci: yes... though one seems a bit odd. Two are pretty standard, rider and avenger classes. But there's another that's... fluctuating? It's not far from a berserker but...

Maya: could be a pseudo-servant or something?

Sion: maybe...?

Abby: are they source of the singularity?

Da Vinci: not likely...

Sion: heads up, they're getting close

Rex: hey you!

Maya: here we go...

The two groups could see each other, Rex decided to call Maya out. When Maya saw the group she already got a decent read on the servants. She knew Jalter already but this one was... different? Closer to the one from Orleans. Quetzalcoatl was... dangerous, not malevolent but a risk. Rex was... confusing. She could tell he was a decent guy but something seemed off.

Maya: hey there!

Rex: hey...

Maya: lemme guess... are you another universe's master?

Rex: yeah... same for you?

Maya: yup! You got some interesting servants there...

Rex: thanks... what's your name?

Maya: Maya. Maya Hinagami.

Rex: Maya... lemme ask you something, you know a Faye?

Maya: yeah actually... you know her too?

Rex: we've met up a couple times.

Maya: nice! Wait! She might've told me about you too. Lemme guess your name... Rox?

Rex: Rox?! It's Rex!

Maya: oh! Sorry about that! Must've misheard her.

Jalter: hey... I'd hate to cut the discussion short... but the fog's getting thicker.

Quetz: she's right.

Da Vinci(s): you better get moving *bzzt* servant *bzzt* danger- *bzzt*

Eventually the comms cut off, the fog now much thicker and the masters were getting nervous.

Maya: Rex! You still there?

Rex: yeah!

The groups huddled close to stay safe.

Abby: Maya... what could it be?

Maya: not sure...

Quetz: don't worry girls, we'll come out of this fine.

Jalter: yeah, always turns out good eventually.

Then the group heard an unnerving scrapping sound. Like metal being dragged across the pavement.

Rex: what the hell?

Maya: must be the source of the singularity.

Abby: what could it be

But before anyone could answer suddenly the enemy strikes from behind

Jalter, blocking with her sword: fuck!

Then suddenly they disappear.

Rex: what the?

Maya: some kind of warping ability?

Quetz: this will be annoying.

The fog was thick with mana, messing with the comms and preventing Maya from getting a read on the enemy.

Suddenly another strike!

Quetz, countering with her Macana: don't think so!

Gone again

Rex: is it the fog that let's them do that?

Maya: no idea. But it's irritating regardless.

Rex: I got an idea... on my signal all of you duck.

Maya: what do you have in mind?

Rex: you'll see.

After a bit of waiting, Rex gave the signal.

Rex: now!

The rest ducked and Rex unleashed dozens of spikes from his body! He feels some impaling the enemy servant.

Rex: gotcha!

Maya: wtf was that?!

Rex: long story!

The fog clears a bit but not much and the enemy servant is seen stabbed in several places in their body. Finally getting a good look at them the group can see what their opponent looks like. They're covered almost entirely by a cloak, with a large white mask covering their face, tho it seemed to have been damaged by the spikes.

Maya: are they still alive?

Abby: they aren't fading...

Suddenly the enemy servant warps again, leaving some blood dripping on the spikes they were impaled on.

Rex: fucking hell!

Quetz: that didn't kill them?!

Jalter: I've had enough of this bitch!

Jalter in a fit of anger unleashes a large circle of flames around the group.

Maya: Jalter! What the hell!?

Jalter: they can't warp into fire that easily!

Maya: but it may kill us!

Then suddenly the enemy warps rights above the group, axe in hand ready to strike!

Rex: there you are! Maya, Gander!

Suddenly the two shoot out consecutive gander shot right at the enemy, causing them to lose focus and let go of the weapon.

Immediately in response Quetzalcoatl leaps and grabs the enemy forcing them into an aerial suplex and launching them into the flames!

???: RAAAAHHH!!!

Jalter: now I'll hande this!

Le Grondement de la Haine

She unleashes her noble phantasm killing the enemy servant.

The fog clears away, and to clear the flames Quetz uses her authority to bring about enough rain to put it out.

After everything is said and done the two masters have to talk to their respective Da Vincis and Sions.

Sion: don't know if you figured it out or not from everything but it seems the enemy was an alternative summons of Jack the Ripper.

Abby: did Jack... grow up?

Da Vinci: no... not likely. Jake the Ripper's a very unique servant when it comes to how they can be summoned.

Maya: that's what happens when you're never even seen.

Rex: so is the singularity gonna clear up soon?

Sion: actually, it looks like you two being there is causing a new but much weaker singularity. Not far off from the incidents with Faye and so on.

Rex: ah, just us being here will keep it stable until we leave.

Da Vinci: yep! So if you guys want to talk like with others then by all means!

Maya: is that cool with you?

Rex: suuure, don't see why not.

The two groups sat at a table near a Cafe that was still abandoned. Discussing their adventures and making comparisons. When Maya learned Rex had not 1 but 6 different versions of Quetzalcoatl she was shocked!

Maya: how does it keep happening?!

Rex: your guess is as good as mine.

Maya: ...how the...

Maya, remembering what Rex did: wait! Another thing! How the hell did you just shoot out spikes from your body!

Rex: oh yeah! That

Rex explained the events of the Madrid singularity and how he gained symbiotic pseudo-servant powers to save Quetzalcoatl.

Maya: that explains a lot.

Rex: yeah... they were supposed to leave with the singularity but nope! So until we understand things better I'm stuck like this. Not that I'm complaining or anything.

Maya: well I probably wouldn't complain either.

The two continued on, until an interesting topic came up. Maya didn't bring it up until the servants went off on their own for a bit.

Maya: so... Faye tells me you and Quetz are actually married.

Rex: yup! Tied the knot a while ago now.

Maya: but... are you sure that's the best idea?

Rex: why not? I love her! I've loved her for so much of this journey, and she loves me! After I resummoned her in Russia and we together again I decided then and there I should propose.

Maya: I understand that but... she's a servant. She's not going to be here when this is all over.

Rex: ...yes she will be.

Maya: ...what do you mean?

Rex: she'll still be with me, after the lostbelts and so on, we'll still be together.

Maya: but after everything's said and done the servants won't be needed and just like after Goetia will be unsummoned.

Rex: well they can't unsummon her.

Maya: yes they can? Why wouldn't they be able to?

Rex: because back in Russia I didn't use the Chaldea system to summon her, I used a traditional summoning circle.

Maya: !!! You did what!?!?

Maya: how the hell!? How is your body able to handle the strain of not only a servant but a divine spirit a that!?

Rex: well... according to my records my magical circuits are scarily good? They said it's astounding I had such good ones when my family had little prior connection to magecraft.

Maya: so... you were just blessed with amazing circuits?!

Rex: no! My predecessor... actually did some small experiments on members of the family as the generations went on... until I came about with the right circuits.

Maya: ah, so you're the result of generations of experimentation to create an heir with the right circuits and can thus summon a divine spirit without Chaldeas, no problem.

Rex: well... yeah....

Maya realized just how odd of a master candidate Rex was. When it came to the world of magecraft such experiments weren't unheard of, but rarely did they produce such results. How fortunate for him to end up in chaldea. And he needn't worry about losing his wife thanks to that.

Rex: but hey... I'm sure you can still be with Helena after you finish up with the lostbelts.

Maya: ...how can you be so sure?

Rex: I dunno... call it optimism or call it foolishness, but I think you two can still find happiness together in some way after all this. You two had to say goodbye once and then got to meet again, whose to say it won't happen again?

Maya found his optimistic view on things... amusing. Maybe he was right... in some form or another, they may be able to stay together after all is said and done.

The two groups went their separate ways eventually. Seeming to have made new friends of another universe's masters again. Time will tell if they were to meet again.

A/N: so there's the Rex/Maya crossover. Thanks to @hasabbydoneanythingwrong for volunteering Maya as tribute. Hopefully you all like it and hopefully I got Maya right.

Tags

@hasishtardoneanythingwrong @haspaulbunyandoneanythingwrong @hasnightingaledoneanythingwrong @haskamadoneanythingwrong @hasbbdoneanythingwrong @grievouslyxorvia

[qvid-pro-qvo]

the job is done, and fate has won

aaron hotchner x female!reader, taking place during and after “200 (season 9, episode 14)”

word count: 4043

rating: teen, for a little bit of heartbreak, a little bit of hurt, and finally some comfort

follow up to running away, across an ocean.

-

Sometimes, on particularly boring days, you found yourself staring outside your window.

There wasn’t much that happened in terms of natural scenery. The CIA Headquarters in Langley wasn’t known for its views… it barely had trees. But it was amazing what you could catch. Standing there, in your pantsuit and bare feet, watching as agents known for gathering intel across the world stumbled into illicit affairs, and gambling debts, all in that parking lot.

Because for some reason, CIA agents were still human.

Beyond the parking lot, you watched the sky. Watched it fade from bright blue or cloudy gray to a deep, stunning black, so endless it made your head spin.

(You watched the stars, sometimes.

It wasn’t the same.)

This wasn’t one of those boring days, unfortunately. It was the kind of day that made your head hurt, and your feet ache rushing from one secretary to the next. Your promotion taught you a lot, mainly that bureaucracy never went away, and neither did the missions. But your feet and your mind needed a minute, sixty seconds, to catch your breath. One minute before returning to the phone calls. The emails. The hunt.

So you watched the parking lot. Watched the blue expanse, dotted with white clouds. And when you turned back to your desk, your mind was gloriously blank, ready for another wave of information, of orders from you instead of to you. Your promotion came with your own office, your own choice of boring wall color, your own window to look out from, but that couldn’t make up for the fact that you were here and your feet were on thin carpet.

You slid back into your desk chair.

“Fuckin’ hell,” you murmured to yourself, and with a pinch to the bridge of your nose you got back to work, typing away on a work computer that you wanted to smash with a hammer on your last day. “Where are you, Askari?”

Another hour passed, and your fingertips flew, your brain working to analyze whatever it could snag. You worked hard.

(Fate worked harder.)

A knock. Firm, loud, meant to get your attention, made with broad knuckles against the wooden door.

“Come in,” you called, but your focus had already shifted from digital to analog, a stack of files beginning to be sorted through. You didn’t even realize it was him, speaking without being spoken to.

“The Undersecretary has reason to believe that Askari would be stateside –“ you started, but when you looked up it wasn’t another CIA agent, and your mouth slammed shut, an audible click that made your teeth ache.

Not CIA. Not in that suit.

“Agent Hotchner,” you greeted, for a moment too stunned to think much more past greeting. Your feet, under your desk, slid into your shoes, your arches protesting the movement.

“Agent Y/L/N. Good to see you again.”

Something was haunting him, that was for sure. It would seem that every time you met, he’d have a burden on his back. No beard, though.

Some part of your brain mourned the loss.

And then, it clicked. You were an analyst in the CIA for a reason. The agents taken – FBI. An FBI agent, mere hours after the news broke, coming to visit you, one of the leads for the task force?

You couldn’t help your chuckle of disbelief, shaking your head. The irony. “She’s one of yours.” Another file was pulled away from the stack, dismissed with a glance.

“Yes,” he replied. You didn’t need to look to feel the way he ached. Did it hurt him, as much as it hurt you? Talking again? “I… wasn’t aware you were a lead on this case.”

See, you had shoved it all down, those years ago. Had forced yourself to push forward, move on, ignore the way he’d settled into your heart. You wished you had found apathy in that, but that wasn’t how an analyst’s brain worked. You couldn’t look at a woman, built from 22 to think and think and think, and tell her to stop.

It didn’t work that way.

Your eyes didn’t lift from your desk, another filed shoved aside from the stack.

“You thought you had the right to be aware.” You smirked, your tone curt. “A bold assumption, Agent Hotchner.”

You saw him tense out of the corner of your eye. If it brought you a bit of glee, you didn’t betray it. Just let yourself enjoy it while it lasted. When the agent didn’t respond immediately, however, you finally looked up again, schooling your features into something polite, a brow raised to mimic what you used to see across a table in a tent.

“I think you were very much aware that it was me here, Agent. Neither of us are stupid. So you need something, Agent Hotchner? Or is this simply a social call? Because I have work to get back to.”

That seemed to reboot him. His jaw twitched for a moment, and you kept your gaze steady, waiting for him to make the next strike. He moved forward into the room and you watched as he closed the door behind him.

“I need what you know on Integrity, specifically Tivon Askari.”

That shocked a laugh out of you, and you shook your head, going back to the file on your desk. “Nice try. Next question.”

“This isn’t a request. I need that intel.”

When you looked up again, his jaw was clenched completely, and those deep dark eyes were narrowed, hidden in shadow from the sunlight in the window.

“Excuse me?” Your pen was set aside, polite smile gone. “You do not have clearance to get that intel.”

“One of my team has been captured,” he shot back. “I’m doing what I need to so she can come back home to her husband and son.”

Your smile turned placating, almost sickeningly sweet. “The CIA is aware of what has happened and is doing what it can to find Agent Jareau and Chief Cruz. You’re kidding yourself if you think otherwise.”

“I need to guarantee she comes back safe. She’s not an asset to be used and tossed aside.” His voice was stronger now. He never went easy on you, in Pakistan, and he wasn’t going easy on you now.

You never backed down, of course. Not then, not now. “She’s not an asset, she’s a hostage.” You were trying your best to reason with him. “And right now, we’re focusing on finding her and Askari. Now, please. Let us do our job.”

“I can’t trust that the CIA doesn’t have ulterior motives in this, Y/L/N.”

You were doing your best not to get worked up, trying your hardest not to let his words hurt. Not to let that resentment overwhelm you. But his eyes seemed to be doing their best to tear you apart. It was his family, you reminded yourself, closing your own eyes to breathe before opening them again.

“Then trust me,” you settled on. The high road. A softer voice, a softer look with the blank face. “The FBI and the CIA need to work together. But we succeed, even when we work alone. We’re doing everything we can to make sure Agent Jareau gets back safe and sound. You do not and will not have the clearance. Let the State Department handle it. Let the CIA handle it.”

His approach had to change, he surely realized. Maybe that was why he took a moment, to think, about his next move. When he spoke, it felt like a different person, like a different Aaron Hotchner. “Let the BAU help, at the very least.”

Suddenly his demeanor changed. Something about him dropped, a wall or two among the thousands falling down so you could see past it. Into his eyes, as he leaned close.

He wasn’t… seducing you. He was appealing to you. To your history. He needed this. Needed you to work with him, needed you to save Agent Jareau. With wide brown eyes with bags under them, a brow that was permanent furrowed until at least three beers in.

“We need to find her. There’s – there’s a time limit, and what he does to his victims… that cannot happen.”

When you swallowed, it was tight. He was too close.

His eyes were like quicksand. Hidden, unassuming, until you sunk into it. You couldn’t escape his slow gaze, his quiet scan.

One hand was flat against the folding table.

(No. It was your desk. It wasn’t a table, covered in photos, his magnifying glass next to the most recent attacks. It was your desk, and this was Hotch, two years later, thinking that he could, what, seduce you into giving him more –)

Your stomach clenched.

“Let us help.”

(Was the softness in his voice imagined?

It had to be.)

With a sudden move, you stood to your feet, almost stumbling at the feeling of your heels. You pushed away from the desk, away from him, moving toward the window, staring out at the brilliant blue sky. Little clouds floating.

You needed air. After all, he had taken all the oxygen, and you were the match he was trying to light. But you couldn’t be there, you couldn’t let yourself be there again. You’d opened yourself up, for the first time in so long and all that had been left was an empty tent.

“Let the BAU help.” Your voice was ragged, and you couldn’t school it into something cruel. One or two walls of his fell. Your whole defense system seemed to crumble.  “Like you helped in Pakistan?”

There was a pause. Heavy. Dense. “Agent… I left to help my team –“

You whirled to face him, body tight, face dangerously close to breaking neutral. “And now I’m the one in charge of saving your asses. You left me an unfinished case, and we’re not doing that here. I am not compromising my position for amateurs. Your team will step back and let the professionals handle this.”

The silence was dead air, precious seconds in the hunt for Agents Jareau and Cruz wasted in favor of meeting each other’s gaze. He seemed to realize his misstep, and what was definitely imagined was the guilt you thought you saw flicker, a grimace on his features. When his emotions settled, however, he was back to neutral. Still never a smile.

“… we’re not going to stop looking for her.” His voice cut through the memories. The pain.

“I know. Neither will we.”

(His eyes were on you. Scanning you, up and down, over curves and lines that made you.

His eyes were on you. Watching you as you watched the stars, smiling when you smiled.

They were his family.)

The greater good, you told yourself, not the way Hotch’s heart seemed to break when you turned away again. A lead shattered.

They were his family. He wouldn’t stop. None of them would. Not until they killed themselves trying.

You couldn’t give him much. Not much of anything at all. But a start.

Your mind worked. As it always did, thinking and thinking and thinking. You settled on an answer as you moved to settle back in your chair. Settled on a shrug, looking back down at your papers. Settled on hiding your pain, on going numb, on truly forgetting Aaron Hotchner.

“If you really want to go above me, fine. Undersecretary Jackson at the State Department will be glad to field your visit. But I’m telling you, she’s not someone who spills a whole lot of state secrets for an FBI agent, not even one who knows about Hastings.”

If he noticed the way your voice was empty? He didn’t mention it, just nodded. You could almost hear the wheels turning.

“I believe I understand. Thank you, Agent Y/L/N.”

Your eyes drifted to the window. Blinds open. A brilliant blue sky. A much better sight than his eyes, whiskey brown in the shine of sun from the outside world. No more shadows.

When the sun set, would there be stars tonight?

This wasn’t Pakistan, you reminded yourself. That was clear. After all, Aaron Hotchner didn’t have a beard. There wasn’t a smile to be seen. And this time, you didn’t get three months to say goodbye. When you spoke again, you did not hold back.

“If you ever need something from the CIA,” you whispered, not daring your voice to rise anymore without breaking. “I’ll give you another contact. Pakistan was a long time ago, and things change. They… they have to change.”

I have to change, you told yourself.

Like a breakup. You wanted to cry until you could laugh at your own stupidity.

“Agent Y/L/N...”

“Good luck, Agent. And I mean that. But don’t make me regret this anymore than I already have. You have your lead.”

(When you’d closed the tent flap, your eyes had stared straight ahead, your fists clenched so tight your nails broke the skin on your palm. You took a couple of breaths, lifted your chin, and pushed forward. Moved on.)

When the door closed, you gave yourself sixty seconds.

-

They found her, in the end. The BAU, breaking every protocol, destroying every bit of trust ever established with the CIA, found the agents missing with mere minutes left to spare, piggybacking off of your intel. You got the FBI’s own report on your desk three hours after it ended, the rescue of Jareau and Cruz officially closing Integrity on their end.

Just another day for them, you supposed.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t over on your end until much later. Weeks after the rescue, the last of the reports finally made it to you so you could sign off. Agents who’d investigated the deaths of Askari and Hastings getting around to giving you the autopsy reports, testimony from the BAU, and final closure on what Askari was after. Your signature was quick and brutal, a swipe of pen so the file could be set aside. A close to that nightmare, and onto the next.

Integrity was over.

(Fate wasn’t.)

Your hands moved to push against your temples, rubbing in a vaguely circular motion to push down the horrors in those photographs. The reports were then reorganized, moved to your box to be delivered the next day. With a long sigh, you leaned back in your chair, your toes once again bare and curled into the carpet.

It was late. Your day was “officially” done.

And yet, your job never ended. The phone started ringing, a horrific melody, and you let it ring two or three times before picking it up.

“Y/L/N,” you answered, too exhausted to bother hiding how tired you really were.

A couple of beats passed as you listened. Slowly, your eyes got wider and wider, before you couldn’t take anymore.

“What? Here?”

Your desk phone’s cord was stretched to the window so you could peek out, no blinds to cover you as your gaze scanned under the streetlights.

There, a nondescript SUV. Khakis, work boots, a polo. And there, grasping two bottles of shitty beer in his hand…

“Fuckin’ hell.”

Your eyes blinked, a couple of times. Maybe it was a hallucination, after all, but there were no fuzzy edges. He was really out there, and you were captivated. Watched him sit, glance at his watch. Stared as he reclined, leaned back to look straight up at the sky.

Stargazing.

And then to you. You knew, even from this distance, that when he turned his head it was to find your office window.

It’d been weeks.

(It’d been years.)

You’d hadn’t stopped thinking about him. Even after telling him that you were no longer his point of entry into the CIA, even after being very clear something had to change, your mind hadn’t ever been able to let him go. Maybe there was a reason, or maybe you just hated yourself, but the sight of Aaron Hotchner wasn’t entirely unwelcome. Maybe now it could be finished, another case closed. 

You took a breath. If it was going to happen, it would have to include talking it out. Like adults. You could do it, you thought. Of course that was easy when he was still three floor down.

“Okay,” you told the overnight security. “Just. Send him up. He knows where my office is. Yes, I’m aware. Let him through.”

When you hung up the phone, you knew you only had a few moments to compose yourself. Your hands moved to your hair, still somehow hanging loose around your shoulders, and rummaged around for a hair tie. You pulled it up, high and tight, and for a moment your flashbacks were colliding with real life.

A meeting with Agent Hotchner.

He arrived without any pomp and circumstance. Didn’t even knock, considering that your door was open and you were leaning on the front of your desk. Your suit jacket was draped over your chair, but it felt like opposite day when he walked in. You tried not to linger on it, but he seemed to be thinking the same thing, those infuriating eyes saying more with a slow up and down then words ever could.

A game of push and pull commenced. Who would break the silence first?

Of course, it was you. You were never one who kept your words to yourself. Not even after your promotion, when words were the sharpest things you had on your person half the time.

“Interesting move, coming at the end of the workday for a nightcap,” you told him, and the twitch of his lips was not lost on you.

“I suppose, it’s a roundabout way of saying congratulations,” he admitted. One beer was offered to you, and you took it easily, falling back into a routine you hadn’t tried to replicate in two years.

Another quick move, this time to pop the bottle cap off on the edge of your desk. It marred the surface, but you didn’t flinch. “I didn’t realize I needed to be congratulated. The BAU saved Agent Jareau, after all.” It might’ve been a little bitter, but the taste was washed away with crappy stout.

He nodded. “She’s… back home. Healing.”

The unmentioned trauma didn’t need to be explained. You were both agents. You both knew.

“Good. I’m glad,” you told him. With feeling. “Hope you’re giving her PTO.”

“She’s taking her week, but. We’re all addicted to the job.”

Silence. A couple of sips of beer on your end. Hotch’s was still unopened, gripped tightly in his hand. He was fighting with himself, it seemed, judging by the way his normal unflappable attitude was replaced by a shift in stance, a glance around your office.

“Agent Hotchner –“

“Agent –“

Stumbling over each other, you shook your head, waving to him. “Please. I’m sick of hearing my own voice.”

When he nodded, it was abrupt, and like always, his words were organized in his head before he spoke, and sometimes you just wished that he would say what was really on his mind, without fear of being misunderstood or misquoted.

“Y/L/N,” he started. “I’m… I’m here to right some wrongs. And I’m here to congratulate you.”

“Hotchner, I told you –“

“Please. Just. Let me say what I need to say.”

Your mouth closed. Your feet, sweltering in your heels, pushed out of them so your bare toes could press into the carpet. He moved to stand next to you, to lean on your desk right beside you, his bare arm brushing against your strict button-up.

“When I was in Pakistan,” he told you, “I wasn’t looking for an escape. I was on a job. And when I got there, I didn’t think that it would be a solace, but it was. You... made it that. I was comfortable. We were working, but. It was time away that I needed, to remember what was important.”

(“You’re important.”)

You weren’t looking at him, you couldn’t, but his voice then and now made your free hand curl against your desk, gripping the wood like your life depended on it.

“My team means everything to me. You know that,” he continued, “but you meant something to me, too. I opened up to you, and. The first outside my team since my wife died. Then I threw it all away.”

“You left for your family,” you said simply, having to say something. With a shrug, you looked at him, lower lip caught between your teeth. “I didn’t begrudge you, Hotch. I was… pissed, and hurt, but I understood why.”

He shook his own head. For a moment, you saw what you had seen in that tent. A gaunt face, a pained expression. A man with so much hurt that he didn’t know where to put it. “I looked up the case, saw you’d finished it. But I didn’t call, because… well. You were moving on. Moving forward.”

His hand was flat on the desk.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said. His voice was low, and thick. “For not calling. For not finishing the case, for… everything. And congratulations, on getting promoted. There’s no other agent I know who’s more deserving than you.”

When you placed your hand on his, you felt warm. Felt your stomach roll at the look he gave you, eyes not wandering from your face, from the way you gave him the smallest smile.

“It’s okay, Hotch. It’s… It’s done.”

For the first time in two years, you felt like you could breathe. That pain you’d set aside was slowly fading, his words a salve for a broken heart. It was easy, you realized. Easy to shift from cautious glances to catching up, as if this was how it was meant to be all along.

“I honestly believed that I would never see you again,” you admitted. “But I’m glad I did. Maybe you can tell me what keeps you from tearing your hair out doing shit like paperwork.”

“Hard time adjusting?” The worry lines in his face seemed to fade, that furrow vanishing so he could raise a brow. “Two years not enough time?”

You didn’t expect to laugh, but you did. Chuckled a little, shaking your head as you glanced around the farce that was your office. “Hotch, I – I don’t know how to explain to you how much I hate wearing suits.”

“I can’t believe they took their best asset out of the field.” When you realized he was grinning, you laughed again. “Did they expect you to say thank you?”

“Thank them for the pay raise, I guess, but I’d prefer jet lag and a month at a time in the States over whatever it is I’m doing now.” You shook your head, remembering the looks on your bosses’ faces when you told them just how you felt about being moved to desk work.

You leaned in, finally, to confide in him, “Honestly, I think they thought that if they put me back here, I would stop running up a tab in bars across the world.”

“A routine like that is expensive,” Hotch agreed. He seemed to be looking past you, at something only he could see. “Though it was something that kept me sane.”

“It keeps all of us on track. A couple of beers, some lawn chairs, and the stars.” You smirked again, turning to look at him, at his unopened beer. “You want me to pop that open for you?”

He didn’t answer right away. After all, he was like you. You can’t train someone to think and then tell them to stop. He was thinking, and thinking, and thinking about something.

“Hotch? You want your beer?”

But it was that moment, two years in the making.

That’s when he decided to kiss you.

Sitting there, on a desk in a dark office. Nothing but lamplight and the stars outside your window illuminating the high points on your face. Nothing but your hand on top of his, a calloused thumb running over his skin. No fear of discovery, when the door could be closed, and locked, and agents with egos looking for a way to climb to the top.

Pakistan was over.

(And for the moment, so was fate.)

[vg-sanctuary]

Picross 3D and Round 2

HAL Laboratory - DS, 3DS - 2010-2016

[images from nintendolife and worldofgames]

nonograms, Japanese crossword, "picross," Pic-a-Pix, the only number puzzle I actually like. I couldn't get my head around kakuro and sudoku felt like a waste of time. picross, though, makes a nice picture at the end and it's easier to tell when you've made a mistake, especially on digital picross that usually tells you outright. I think I prefer picross because you feel like you've made actually completed something once you complete the puzzle instead of just putting some numbers on a page in an array that's "correct" according to an arbitrary set of rules.

Picross 3D is one of the small handful of games I remember trying a demo of from the Nintendo Channel on the Wii when I was little. the Nintendo Channel was a wonderful thing and I'd never played any puzzle like the ones in Picross 3D, so I was hooked, but I'd never played the full game until more recently. honestly, I still don't think there are any puzzle games that offer puzzles that have to be handmade like picross, 3D or otherwise. a computer can't make a picross puzzle on its own because of the picture part. Picross 3D, adapts these age-old deduction-based color-by-number puzzles into glorious 3D on the DS of all things. it was appropriate because of the touch screen, it's just that the DS wasn't exactly known for its 3D capabilities. not that it's especially visually complex anyway. it's also a late DS game that's quite good and not really talked about. seems like those things go together.

the main ideas and strategies of plain 2D picross adapt to 3D beautifully despite the extra dimension. both kinds of puzzle ask the player to use limited information to figure which cells are and aren't filled in. you don't need to know 2D picross to play Picross 3D, but it helps a little. in Picross 3D, each puzzle is a grid of cubes where any side of a cube can have a number on it, and that number shows how many cubes on that line of cubes are painted instead of broken. sometimes there will be a circle or a square around the number. a circle means the painted cubes are in two groups separated by at least one broken cube, and a square means it's three or more groups each separated by at least one broken cube. some lines of cubes don't have a number, which just means you don't know how many cubes in that line are painted or broken, and you have to use the available numbers to figure that line out.

somehow Picross 3D got a 3DS sequel, simply called Picross 3D: Round 2, that improves on the original in practically every way. the biggest difference is that there are two colors of paint instead of just one, which adds an extra layer of depth to the puzzles. (for those curious, there are multicolored 2D picross puzzles too.) in the original Picross 3D, you linearly progress through puzzles that ramp up in difficulty, but in Round 2, the puzzles are sorted into books with themes like birds, sports, or trucks, and each book has different unlock conditions. every puzzle can be played on easy, normal, or hard, unlike the first game's strict difficulty curve. Round 2 is really nonlinear and you don't need to do every puzzle to progress, so if you don't want to do the time limit or one strike puzzles, you don't have to. it also allows as many hints as you want with no penalty. the less punishing rules and library theming make Round 2 feel really cozy and sort of zen, while the original has the distinct feeling of a late DS game. I personally love both. the only thing the original has over its sequel is the ability to create, upload, and download user made puzzles over Nintendo Wi-Fi Connection, but Nintendo WFC is dead now anyway so that doesn't matter.

usually I feel like I need something important to say about all the games I write about. I don't have anything like that for this one, I just really like this pair of games and think the puzzle systems are really interesting and fun, and of course, most people don't know about them. you do now, though, and I hope you'll enjoy these games if you're into puzzles.