#i remember the second house but not the first

[absfawn]

ㅤ ㅤㅤ❝ 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐢𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮? ❞  

abby remembers the second the light in your eyes left. it was like yesterday. she remembers the night you showed up at her house, completely drenched, from head to toe in the rain, looking at her with the tears streaming down your face. even covered in rain, she could tell just how much you had been crying. she remembers how your hands shook as she helped you undress for a warm shower, and how you could barely hold the washcloth because of how cold your body felt. at first, she wasn’t sure why. why you cried your heart out the second she let you inside, how you clung to her body like she would disappear if she didn’t hold you tight enough. every piece of her broke each time you would grip her shirt in your fist, knuckles turning white, whenever she tried to pull you away just to get you in the shower, to warm you up, but you never budged. you didn’t want to let her go. ever. 

she was quick, like she always is when it came to you, when you slumped onto the shower floor and held your knees against your chest, sniffling and whimpering into your arms. she didn’t care about her dry clothes getting wet, all she cared about was you and making sure you were okay. the stream of water covers her as she wraps her arms around your body and pulls you into her chest, whispering and reassuring you that you were okay. it wasn’t until you opened your mouth and uttered a soft, “we argued about you” that her body tensed, and her eyebrows furrowed at your words. 

“me? why me?”

“why not? you’re perfect” you laughed, but it wasn’t your usual laugh she adored hearing, was used to hearing. it sounded so broken that all she could do was hold you tighter. “m’not sure, i think it makes her angry that i always come to you when m’sad, or when something is getting too much for me to handle and i never go to her. m’scared that i only trust you, and i can’t trust anyone else with my emotions,” you sucked in a deep breath and sniffled. “m’scared of my feelings, the ones i thought i had for her, the ones i have had for you for years and i hate that i keep putting all of this on you” you rambled, not fully understanding you had just admitted one of your confessions to your best friend.

abby was momentarily happy for this moment of confession because she’s been in love with you from the start, but she was also terrified. scared because right now you were too heartbroken and too hurt for her to drop the i love you bomb right onto you. “m’here for you, no matter what the problem is, you know that” she mumbled against your head. “you can bring your things to me, and i will try my best to help you through them, like i’ve always promised you.” even if it killed her to hold back her own feelings towards you.

“s’not fair on you” you couldn’t help but huff and roll your eyes at her. “m’always doing it. it just ruins everything”

“you need to stop thinking you know what’s not fair on me, and what is. that’s my decision, i won’t let you make that for me. m’here for you, no matter what is going on in your life, and in your pretty head, okay?” abby rubbed your back and placed a tender kiss on your temple when you nodded wordlessly. “now, how about we get out of the shower, i’ll find you something to wear, watch one of those shitty movies you love so much and eat ice cream?”

“i’d like that.” 

abby was gentle and patient, like she always is, when she helped you dry off after she managed to get you from the bathroom to her bedroom, clothes already on the bed waiting as you fumbled with your fingers nervously. none of you had to say anything, her actions of getting you comfortable and warm were enough to express how much she cares about you.

she doesn’t rush you to get changed into something warmer, drier even, nor does she rush you to get comfortable in her bed as she makes her way into the kitchen just to find the ice cream you both always used to eat if you had a shitty day. thankfully though, by the time she makes it back to her bedroom, her pride and joy, her safe place, she finds you snuggled up under the blankets and already scrolling through endless movies that you aren’t sure if you really want to watch. 

“did you pick one?” abby mumbled, placing her bowl of ice cream on her nightstand while passing you the other and chuckling under her breath at your soft gasp from the coldness of the fine china. “careful, it’s cold”

“funny,” you grumbled playfully and snuggled more into her bed. oblivious to her soft eyes watching you. “but thank you, and no, i haven’t picked one. they all look boring.”

abby doesn’t reply, just makes herself comfortable on the other side of you on her bed, your body on instinct snuggled more up to her side and slumped your head on her shoulder as you scooped up ice cream and shoved it in your mouth with subtle sniffles. “you feel better?” she couldn’t help but ask into your hair. 

“a little, thank you for being here” you sighed and rubbed your eyes with your free hand. “s’not what someone’s night should be like, always having to fix me and put me back together again, but thank you.”

pressing her lips to your temple, abby doesn’t feel the way you sag more into her body, nor does she feel the heat rising in your cheeks at such a simple action. she’s forgotten all about her ice cream, as you eat yours and keep your eyes locked on the tv, still undecided on which move you’re going to watch. “hey,” abby whispered. 

“hm?”

“i love you,” the meaning to abby was deeper than you’d ever know, but she wasn’t going to place something else on you while you were already dealing with a broken heart. so instead, she wraps her arm around your waist and kisses your head again. her thumb brushing against the skin on your hip that had you sinking more and more into her with each touch. “which means m’always going to be here for you. during the good and bad. i will do my best to help and guide you through the bad days, but there for you, supporting you through the good ones too. i just want you to be happy, and i will make sure i can help you get there. always. i love you.”

because loving you is the easiest thing she’ll ever have to do.

[musiccutiepatooty]

Logan Howlett Love Languages

Here's my thoughts on the love languages in regards to Logan

Word Count: 1.5k

I am a firm believer that every love language is given and received in some capacity in relationships. With Logan it is absolutely no different. In order form least to greatest, in my opinion, Logan's love languages are: gift giving, words of affirmation, quality time, acts of service, and physical touch.

Gift giving:

I believe that Logan loves to receives gifts from you… eventually. When you first gave him a gift (before you all had started dating) he was very hesitant to accept it. You were being nice to him and that usually ended poorly for the people being nice to him. He just told you to keep it and left you standing in your tracks. He was surprised to later find a bag sitting on his doorstep. He begrudgingly took the gift inside, but didn’t open it for a couple of days. When he finally opened the gift bag, it revealed a small key chain with an 'L' on it. You had seen him in the hall with two keys in his hand. Both of them were separate from each other.

When you saw him pull out his mail key then shove it back into his pocket in favor of his house key you stopped. "How do you keep track of them? It two separate keys."

"It's just two keys," he said quizzically. The look you gave him was blank for a second and then you shook your head, going into your house with a small smile.

When he saw the key chain and remembered the front porch interaction, he felt a pang of endearment in his chest.

Words of affirmation:

It was going to be a rough day for Logan. He woke up with the voices in his head being stronger than his ability to ignore them. All of his failures were on the forefront of him mind and he had only been awake for ten minutes.

You rolled toward him, stretching your arm around his midsection and kissing the back of his shoulder. He felt you murmur something against his back but it didn’t register. "What'd ya say, baby?"

"I said 'how's my beautifully incredible husband doing this morning?'" This caused a small smile to form on Logan's lips and his brain to be turn down a notch.

Throughout the day, it was like you knew that he was in his head. You were showering his with verbal praise.  "You're treat me so well, honey." "I'm so lucky to have you." "You're such a good friend." It was helping hush his thoughts.

The one that silenced his brain completely came when y'all were sitting on your couch, you reading a book with your feet in Logan's lap and him watching tv absentmindedly stroking your legs. You gently tapped him with your foot until he was looking at you. He was met with your smiling face as when he turned his head. "You know you're doing really well and I'm proud of you."

He stared at you long after you went back to reading your book. When he has a hard day, hearing you just be kind to him calms him down. And the fact that you love him despite his flaws lets him know your words are true.

Quality time:

Once he got past the "I'm not good for you. Stay away from me" mindset, I firmly believe that Logan will make any excuse just to be around you. And I mean like you're taking a shower and he's in there. Not in the shower. He is just sitting on the toilet so that he can talk to you.

The knock on the door wasn't heard over your music until it got a little bit more persistent. You gave a quick "yes" to come in and he gingerly peeks his head in the door, "can I come in?" you pop your head around the edge of the shower curtain and gave a small smile and nod. "Come on in, baby."

You expected Logan to start taking articles of clothing off and join you in the shower, so it was a surprise when he lowered the toilet lid and sat down on it, "You're not getting in?" You cocked an eyebrow at him.

"I already showered this morning. And you're shaving your legs I know you need some room for that," he leaned back against the toilet and spread his legs out. "Just wanted to talk to you."

You closed the shower curtain and chuckled as Logan began to rattle off questions to you.

...

He is also a sucker for sitting beside you doing nothing. You can both be doing your own thing and he can enjoy just being in your presence. Like you're both sitting with the TV on, a show that you and Logan have started together but never seem to pay attention to, and you've both ended up scrolling on your phones. You remove your feet from Logan's lap and make a move to stand up, making him perk up. "Where ya going?"

"Just going to pee and then getting a snack." you stood fully and kissed his head. "Do you want something?"

"Just for you to make it quick," He settled back into the couch, looking up at you, satisfied that you wouldn't be gone long, "wouldn't want you to miss too much of the show."

"If I didn't know any better, it seems like you're gonna miss me." "You could say that."

Acts of service:

Logan's boss had been on him about production. You had been working 15 hour days. You listened to his spiel at breakfast and he listened to yours. After breakfast you handed Logan his lunch box. You mentioned you were able to come home early today and would be crashing as you had to prepare for another early morning the next day. He promised he'd be quiet when he got home and gave you a kiss as you both headed out of the door.

As promised, he was damn near silent when he entered your home. The first thing he noticed was that every light was off aside from the one above the stove and the light in your shared bedroom. The light above the stove illuminated a lidded pot. Opening the lid, his favorite entrée was revealed. Initially he was thankful for the meal because he was starving, even after his huge lunch that you so graciously packed for him. (I swear this man has a huge appetite). His gratefulness was increased ten fold when he remembered that you were not a fan of his favorite dish, though you made it so well.

On the lid in his hands, he noticed a post-it note: 'Sides are in the oven. You don’t have to produce anything tonight. ♥"

Even dead tired you still took the time to make him a meal that you knew he would enjoy. Logan felt his shoulders relax and his heart warm.

Physical touch:

Sounds cliché but he has had so much violence in his life that when it comes to your gentle hands… Lord does he just melt. From scratching his scalp while you guys are lying down to you wrapping your arm around his while you're walking to placing your head on his shoulder while you're sitting and watching tv.

Logan had explained to you that he was a mutant, the Wolverine, and that he had claws. He gave you the whole rundown of Stryker's experiments and how that gave his claws and skeleton a metal coating. He told you all about his war escapades and his time with the X-Men. At the end of his speech, he revealed his claws.

You were silent for a moment and looked at his hands. You held out your hand and looked at Logan, asking for permission to touch him. He gave a small nod and you raised your hands to his, dragging your fingertips along the topside of the claws. You poked the end gently, like an idiot, and felt the sharp sting. Logan just looked at you and cocked his eyebrow with a 'really?' expression. You placed your finger in your mouth to collect the blood droplet.

You nodded for a moment and then your eyebrows shot up, "Is that why you're so fucking heavy when you lay on me?!"

All Logan could do was chuckle as he retracted his claws and kiss you. But he noticed from that point forward, you made extra efforts to touch and hold his hands.

When you are sitting and watching TV, you're absentmindedly stroking over his knuckles. Grocery shopping, your hand is draped on top of his on the cart. Making dinner together, you're taking an extra long time to grab the spoon from him, making sure your hands connect. He is in love with it. Who would have thunk it; Mr. Big Bad Logan Howlett, the Wolverine, is an AVID hand holder.

You distinctly remember the time you both were making dinner and he hand-fed you a pepper from your stir fry. You quickly chomped down on the pepper and smiled at him grabbing his hand and placing a kiss on his knuckles. You could see his brain short circuiting as his face turned a deep red.

Divider Credit: @bunnysrph I'm gonna figure out how I want to set these up because I plan to write more Logan stuff. Pls leave me feedback! I haven't actually written anything in like two years so I'm a bit rusty. Anyways... thanks for reading!!

[strawberriesandstories]

Touch <3

Summary: James has always been touchy until oneday…he’s not

w/c: 1.3k

warnings: nothing much! Just fluff xx

(THIS IS NOT PROOF READ SO BEWARE)

a/n: this is my first story! It’s pretty shit and I wrote it while half asleep in a plane but oh well!

James had always been touchy. Y/n was used to it, though when they first became friends in year one, it took her off guard. She wasn't accustomed to this type of physical affection. Her family weren't really huggers… they weren't really anything, to be honest.

James had always been touchy which is why on the first day of sixth year, y/n was utterly confused. They had met up at the platform as usual, but James made no move to hug her or even say hello.

what?

he looked at her for a second, there was something in his eyes, something that hadn’t been there before…it was almost like a silent plea for something…something y/n didn’t have.

“Hey Jamie…?” Y/n said akwardly, scratching her head not quite knowing what to do.

He was always the first one to say anything

He was always the first one who made the move

He was always the first one to do anything really.

“Hey” he murmured back making no effort to keep the conversation going. Anxiety bubbled in her chest as she tried to think what had possibly gone south between them. When fifth year ended everything was fine, but the more y/n thought about it the more she remembered the little things.

Like how he hadn’t invited her over to his house that summer like normal…or how when they said goodbye he had squeezed her a little less tighter than normal. Maybe she was just overthinking it, maybe everything was fine.

“You look different”

Finally

“Oh-I uh changed my hair”

It was true though she had gotten into a fight with her mother and decided the best act of revenge was bangs and washed out cherry red hair dye. 

“Cool…it suits you” something twitched at the corner of his mouth and he gave her a saddish sort of grin

He took a step close before stopping and sighing again

“Do you remember my thing for Lily-“ 

“Bloody hell mate we’re gonna miss the train” 

a loud voice broke through interrupting whatever he was trying to say as Sirius sauntered over to them with Remus close behind.

“What are you lot doing? I thought we told you to meet up on the train?” Remus rolled his eyes at Sirius’s badgering and stepped away from him.

“Well we’re all here now so let’s just get on” 

and with that they boarded the train and found their regular cabin.

Remus and Sirius sat together as always and James took his dedicated seat next to her. They sat together in silence and listened to Sirius have a one sided argument with Remus over ABBA and QUEEN.

“Hey…uh wanna talk?” James leaned in and whispered in her ear, his breath was hot, the feeling sent a shudder down her spine as she nodded. He gave her a small smile and left the room.

Remus looked at her with an eyebrow raised before turning to Sirius, a wordless conversation seemed to flow between them before Remus spoke up.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” He paused before going on.

“I don’t think you’ll like the conversation”

“Oh shut up moony she’ll be fine, just let her go” Sirius barked slapping Remus on the shoulder.

She furrowed her eyebrows confused, why was everyone being so cynical today?

“Huh? What do you mean…uh you know what never mind” she huffed and left to follow James.

“Hey love” he was leaning against one of the empty cabin doors in the quieter section of the train. Everything about him screamed aloof or non-chalant (BAKA) it was so un-James like.

“Your acting kinda weird is everything okay?”

y/n asked worriedly and mused with her hair

Maybe she was overthinking it, maybe everything fines and she’s just being silly

“Oh uh” he laughed awkwardly and re-adjusted himself so he stood upright in front of y/n shuffling his feet slightly.

“I-uh…you didn’t come to the manor this holidays”

She stiffened

“You didn’t invite me”

“…oh right-uh I didn’t think I needed…to”

His ran a finger through his dark curls and sighed

“This is hard-why is this so hard? I mean it was so easy with Lily” 

“What about lily? James whats actually going on?”

“God-I” he sighed and took a step closer to the girl semi-trapping her against the compartment door.

“Remember when I liked lily?” 

Y/n rolled her eyes who could forget? It was all day everyday, all he would ever do was talk and talk about her…she loved lily they were close friends but everytime he mentioned her she felt this silent ache in her chest. Y/n just assumed it was unease with the fact lily didn’t like him back, she was obviated just worried about James’s unrequited  feelings…probably. 

When she didn’t answer he went on.

“It was easier back then…I liked her a lot but it’s-it’s different now I guess, I mean my dramatic gestures never seemed to work and now…now I don’t know what to do”

So this was why he was acting weird? He was worried about Lily? God and here she thought it was about her.

“If your worried lily doesn’t like you why don’t you talk to Mary for advice? They share a bunk in our dorm” 

He paused his eyes softening, he reached up a hand and tucked a strand of loose hair behind y/n’s ear. 

“No-Lily and I…well im over her, I talked to her about it late last term and she-mentioned how my dramatic gestures and clingy-ness was off putting”

No it wasn’t,  it was cute . Y/n had always had a soft spot for stuff like that she never really understood why Lily didn’t like it.

“So who is it then? Who’s the lucky girl” he paused again, he cupped her face with his hands before quickly dropping them and taking a step back.

“Do you think I’m too clingy?” It was a genuine question, he was being serious. Why was he acting so strange?

“No-but everyone girls different, James you dodged the question, who?”

…

“James-“

“You-of course it’s you! I mean we’ve been friends for years so I never really saw you like that but then-god I don’t know something changed…and I” he stopped before looking down and taking a step back

“I talked to lily y’know-it was stupid but I wanted advice and she told me I was always to ‘expressive’ and blunt-I didn’t wanna mess it up with you…I don’t wanna ruin anything we could have, I didn’t want to be clingy-like normal I guess so-…” 

He trailed off and let out a defeated sounding breath.

“Sirius and Remus know…they think it’s a bad idea purely based on the fact that it could ruin our group”

Oh so that explains it

“I dont…think it’s that bad of an idea-maybe” y/n’s cheeks flushed and she all of a sudden felt very hot.

“And I don’t think I’ve ever really felt that your too…clingy”

God this was embarrassing 

“Oh-well now I look kinda stupid..don’t I” he smiled-a real one this time not a smirk or fake grin and let out a loud laugh.

“Maybe” she grinned and took a step towards him, his eyes twinkled as he slung an arm around her positively delighted.

“So-does that mean I can make embarrassing gestures of my love for the world to see?”

“Nope-“

“But I thought you liked my dramatic-ness!” He let out a mock cry and pouted.

 “No-I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned that” she giggled 

“Oh-Why must you wound me?”

[loggiepj]

To Love A Lannister

chapter 14 | chapter 15

"They attacked Meereen," Oberyn stated, "Queen Daenerys did the right thing, killing all the masters to stop slavery."

Your guardian father hummed in agreement, still looking at you. Absorbed by the newfound information about your sister, you found yourself lost in thoughts. Daenerys hadn't only gained Unsullied army on her side, but also the Dothraki. The Dothraki were known to be ruthless, and war was nothing to them but sport. When you were young, you'd play with your friends, pretending to be Dothraki when you all were far from one. Any tourney held in King's Landing was nothing in comparison to the way the Dothraki fight.

"Varys has confided to me in secret to meet them in Dragonstone," your guardian father added, making you glance upon the mention of a familiar name. Varys used to be part of the King's council. You thought he was still part of the council, advising Tommen and Tywin. If the Lannisters would find out, it would be considered treason. "To bend the knee. I hear the Ironborns have also supported her side recently."

"And what does Prince Doran has to say about all of these?" you butted in, the mention of your real father's name in your mouth caused a turmoil in your stomach.

Oberyn placed the cup of wine he was drinking on the table, leaned his back comfortably against his seat, then lifted his legs to rest upon the edge of the table. "After much convincing given how he always admire the Dothraki, my brother has already advised to proceed, although it might take us a bit longer due to some complications."

Furrowing your brows deeper, you asked, "You mean his son's marriage?"

Your guardian father nodded. "He tried persuading Trystane but to no luck. Marrying them would pledge alliance between the Martells and the Lannisters. It would cause a rebellion within the house."

You only frowned upon them. "So you wish to stop them then?"

"Unless Myrcella can be easily persuaded to support the true Queen," Oberyn said, "we have no choice but to make a scene just to stop any wedding from happening."

"This is an insult!" you argued. "They're just in love!"

Remembering Myrcella's ecstatic behavior upon her mother's surprised visit in Dorne, you couldn't help but feel sympathy for them. You saw her with Prince Trystane together when you first arrived back home, and you could tell it was rare — falling in love with the person your parents wish for you to marry at first.

It was then you found out the plans Lord Tywin arranged for his granddaughter. Maybe that was why he kept you alive in the Capital. Maybe that was why he accepted Yronwood without second thoughts, because regardless if you would marry Cersei or not, Myrcella would still marry Trystane.

The only thing different was both Myrcella and Trystane were already enamored with each other.

If they could forbid you and Cersei, it wouldn't hurt if they could also break Myrcella and Trystane apart. But Trystane being next in line to his father Prince Doran, it would cause an uproar amongst the Dornish folks.

Prince Doran held a massive feast for the guests when you all finally arrived in Dorne a week ago. Although his presence couldn't help but make you feel bothered. Even when he hugged you, congratulating you for your win against the murderer of his late sister, you wondered how good of a father Doran was if he only knew.

Your guardian father had welcomed you as if nothing had changed, and you couldn't hate him for hiding such facts from you since you were a kid. He did it for your own protection.

"Oberyn has told me how you had grown quite fond of Cersei," your guardian father said, bringing you back to the present. "I trust you have already had your fun. You know your duty, Y/n."

"My duty that was only made known to me a month ago?"

"It's difficult, I know," he answered. "But it's easier this way. You don't want to end up in a decision you'd truly regret for the rest of your life — choosing between her and your own family."

~~~

The night finally came to an end. You left the room rather abruptly, eyes glistening with tears for you were lost on what to do. And it was your inattentiveness that made you bump into Cersei as she closed the door of Myrcella's chambers.

"Why are you still awake?" Cersei asked. When she saw your eyes red, she cupped your face and pulled your chin to look at her. "What's wrong?"

You bit back, holding your emotions as you forced a smile. "Nothing, Your Grace. Just a silly argument with my father."

Her eyebrows knitted in worry and confusion, knowing you weren't being transparent with her. When she was about to speak, you stopped her. "I want to show you something." Holding your hand in hers, Cersei let you lead the way.

You walked through dark hallways and climbed down spirals and spirals of stairs until you both arrived in the grand library of the Sunspear castle. You had spent most of your life in there. It wasn't as great as the Red Keep's, but it stood its purpose for centuries.

You led Cersei to the center of the room, pointing to a huge painting displayed on the entire wall, with portraits of faces on top of italicized names and vines connecting each individual.

"It's the family tree of House Martell. Did you know that Prince Doran's great great grandfather was a Targaryen?" you asked, as you pointed the almost faded face on the wall, while your other hand still held Cersei's. It was a mystery to you she hadn't let go.

Cersei smiled. "You should be wary who you're sharing it with. One could tell you're supporting the wrong line."

"It's not a harmful knowledge. This is also written in scrolls I found in your library, you know," you chided in, chuckling. "Not unless you don't read them, then you wouldn't know."

She laughed, slapping your arm playfully, finally letting you go as she approached closer to the wall.

You then fell silent as you watched her stare at the wall with fascination, her fingers brushing on your portrait connected to your guardian father's name.

Absentmindedly grabbing a dusty book from the shelf, you began, "Sometimes, I wish I wasn't part of it, part of the duty expected out of me."

Cersei then glanced at you, before she closed the distance. "Y/n—"

"Do you sometimes feel that way too?" You placed the book back although stopped midway when her hand touched your arm.

She sighed, nodding. "I . . . I do, and then I remember my children and what I would do for them."

You averted your gaze, heartbeat quickened from how near the Queen was.

Cersei continued, "They say never love anyone besides your children and family. Because love is poison. A sweet poison, yes. But it will kill you just the same."

You met her eyes, already staring right at you. "You will be the death of me, Cersei."

The book somehow fell unto the floor, making a distinct yet sharp noise that could wake any resident nearby. You quickly shushed Cersei's lips when you heard sounds of metal armor clanking outside, pushing the woman against the nearest shelves to hide.

"Is anyone in there?!" one of the Dornish guards yelled into what seemed like an empty room. You and Cersei were pressed against each other in one corner, the dusty wooden shelf and an old abandoned large furniture hid the both of you. Unaware of Cersei's gaze following your face, you peered behind the shelf to check if the guard had left.

And when you both heard the door closing, you leaned back and looked at Cersei, smiling as if you won a game of hide-and-seek. It was only then when you finally noticed how the distance between you and the Queen was inexistent.

Cersei then grabbed your neck and kissed you.

Hesitantly pulling away, you whispered, "Someone could see us."

"Let them," she pleaded, her eyes never leaving your mouth. "A lioness does not concern herself to the opinions of the sheep."

When her eyes finally met back yours, you pushed your mouth against her lips and took back what you desired.

It was carnal, hungry, desperate. As if you were both deprived from each other for too long. You gently lifted and placed her on top of a study table, scrolls and papers crumpled and fell from the action, before your hand made haste bunching her dress up to her waist. Kneeling before her, you wasted no time tasting her once you had pushed her chemise out of way.

"Y/n," Cersei let out a strained moan, her hand immediately clutching your head, fingers threading through your hair as if it were reins to which she would ride you. And she did, pushing your face harder and closer into her as she rode you. The Queen's other hand was behind her as support while you lifted one of her thighs on your shoulder.

The Lioness chanted your name like a prayer as she threw her head back. Your tongue never grew tired bringing her to ecstasy, flicking against her swollen aching bud. The sounds you made, grunting and moaning as she pulled your hair, only spurred Cersei on. You couldn't believe she was capable of getting this wet and dripping before until your fingers entered her with ease, with no resistance of whatsoever, her tight and warm cunt desperately sucking your fingers inside her.

"Yes, yes, Y/n, yes!" Cersei whimpered as she pulled you closer, if it was even possible to pull you closer.

And if the Dornish guards had heard another sound, they'd ignore and let you two had your ways. Because there was no way no one could not hear how loud the Queen Mother was as she came, her body trembling. The table screeched against the cobbled floor from the movement.

Once she came down from her high, Cersei pulled you up to her, grabbing the collar of your tunic as she pressed her lips against yours, tasting herself from the kiss. You could feel one of her hands snaking inside your breeches, somehow managing to quickly untie the knots with one hand.

You moaned into the kiss, feeling the wonderful warmth of the woman's hand stroking your hardening shaft. "I miss this," Cersei whispered, pulling away. "I miss you."

The genuine tone of adoration from the Lannister woman made you fall in love with her more. "I miss you too, my Queen." The term of endearment brought a smile to her face.

Cersei was already lining your cock into her entrance before you plunged it right in. The action made the both of you break from the kiss, groaning as her nails dug into the skin of your back.

Beginning a slow rhythm, you rested your forehead against hers, eyes staring into each other. She grabbed your face for another kiss, her other hand reaching your ass as she cupped it and pulled you closer and deeper. It made you lean back and change the pace, thrusting relentlessly.

You laid her spread down on the table as you pushed into her between her legs without stopping. She arched her back and threw her head against the wood, hands reaching any item within reach just to ground herself.

Then she looked back at you as she whimpered. "I want to see you. I want to see you, Y/n." Her hands were already opening your tunic and once done, she cupped and squeezed your breasts, making you moan from the action.

"Cersei."

Her eyes were full of lust that you found yourself nearly there, your thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier each second. You leaned your body forward, on top of her and kissed her to cover her louder moans. Hands on your hair, she pulled you back from her as she looked into you. "I want to see you come undone before me," she requested with a soft whimper.

Cersei's face contorted in pleasure before you with a piercing focused gaze made you lose it as you spilled into her, thick ropes of cum spurted inside her throbbing cunt that was greedily milking you. The sight of you coming on top of her, moaning and grunting your release, made the Queen lose her own composure. A strangled moan made its way out of her throat as she hugged you, burying her head into your neck while her cunt squeezed and devoured your cock as she convulsed.

"Y/n . . . Y/n." Both of your cum leaked inside her, stuffing her full. The feeling made the pleasure last longer as she held unto you, whimpering into your ear.

And it was such a wonderful melody.

~~~

"I know you're mad after what we've discussed with your father," Oberyn said, holding a lit torch as you delved further into the dark.

With the deafening sound from the rushing waterfall, no one would notice two individuals such as yourselves creeping inside a secret entrance to one of the deepest caves in Sunspear. As a kid, somehow you had stumbled on such place while swimming with your friends, competing who could jump from such a high peak where the water meets the ground. You almost drowned that day, but you remembered being rescued by a scaly crocodile. No one believed you that time.

When you only gave Oberyn silence as you followed his trail, he sighed. "I heard news from the castle you've been very busy with the Dowager Queen. You got to be careful, Y/n."

"I am careful," you spat back. "As you always never fail to remind me every single day."

"Doran changed his mind," he said, making you glance at him in confusion. "He now believes marrying his son to the young lioness would secure Dorne's place in the Kingdom. I had no idea how Tywin had managed to convince my brother. But Doran's been cautioning us to stop whatever the seven hells we were doing. He even intercepted Varys' ravens coming in and out of Sunspear. The Sands are starting a rebellion in the open desert upon hearing the news. Ellaria was frustrated. I am telling you, Y/n, you are the only one string holding us together to bend the knee to Queen Daenerys."

"What happens now?"

You both continued to walk in silence, crawling against uneven slippery surface only ignited by the torch carried by Oberyn. Then he paused, looking down what seemed to be an empty chasm before he looked at you, nudging ahead.

"Are you mental? Is this my punishment?"

Oberyn rolled his eyes, as he then pulled you. "Don't be a fool." You turned towards him as he said, "Don't forget to breathe though."

You gave him a scornful look before letting yourself fall back towards the dark hole. Cold water hit your body the moment you were submerged. Catching breath, you heard splashing next to you with Oberyn grunting. "I'm too old for diving."

Chuckling, you swam towards the nearest bank and brushed the wet hair from your face. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, all you could see was a large chamber ahead, even larger than the Sept of Baelor in King's Landing.

"You know, your mother didn't only give you to us before she left for Dragonstone," he started, shaking off the water from his boots. "You came with something, a shiny scaly egg. Something that hasn't been in existence in Westeros for quite some time."

You heard chains unrolling from a distance, making you look back at the darkness ahead, your hand at the sheath of your dagger.

"It hatched when you turned seven," Oberyn went on, panting as he climbed towards a high cliff, ushering you to follow him. "Only a few trusted Sands knew about its existence, doing their best to feed it, to take care of it. Goats it's favorite. Ever wondered why there's a whole pasture of goats at the end of Sunspear. It wasn't just any merchant's animal farm."

You heard a growl so deep and unnatural in this world, the hairs at the back of your neck stood. You unsheathed your dagger, not sure whether it could help your case, but Oberyn held you back as he shook his head no. "There's a reason why your guardian father hired someone from the Citadel to teach you some old High Valyrian because it only understands that language."

From the faint light coming from the cave's ceiling, you could see a shadow move before you, making you wary. It was only until you were face to face with the beast did you manage to figure out that your hunches were right. You had only seen them on paintings, on some pages from old books. But if you could talk to the painters or the publishers, you'd ask them why they never tell anyone how huge and terrifying an actual beast looked like.

You stood frozen, your dagger falling to the ground when the creature snorted a smoky breath your way, leaning forward towards you as if smelling you. You had so many questions but no words seemed to come out. Then it took a step back, a light visible in its throat before it came out from its mouth, blowing huge flames towards the ceiling, lighting the whole cave.

It was a full sized dragon, so huge it would cover the entire Red Keep. The dragon had distinguishing silver rough scales, long talons and metallic gray wings, its tail looked like spikes with ends as sharp as spearheads.

"Y/n, meet Nymeros." Oberyn's voice made you realize you were still there and that it wasn't some dream or imagination. The beast leaned forward once again, even closer than before as it gently nudged its head against your body, making you nervously gasp. Your trembling hands reached towards its snout, a smile forming slowly on your face when it closed its eyes from your touch.

"I think it's time for you to learn how to ride a dragon."

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I truly appreciate your continued support in reading my stories. You can help me create more stories by supporting my writing thru this link.

Thank you so much ❤🥰

[destinationtrekk]

young wesker who gets drunk and giggly with reader. at first he had been so... cold, so expressionless and absolutely cluelessly bone-dry on how to go about doing anything but a daylight two-step move-his-arms-a-little to the dance music blaring from somewhere, but that's okay, reader can show him.

and he enjoys it... and he's laughing, and his face is flushed, and the scent of vodka is deep on his tongue, and he has severely miscalculated his drink, but that's okay, because reader keeps him safe and happy and distracted the entire time.

at the end, as he begins to sober up, they can't seem to get out of him where he's supposed to go to now (perhaps he is trying to revel in it, this one normalcy, just one event he took on to learn how to behave like everyone else and got taught more about himself and his own interests than he'd ever planned, a snapshot of a life he could have lived if only--) so they take him back to their house and snuggle him up in a blanket burrito on the couch, making him drink water, take an advil, a tylenol.

and as he gets back to himself and they smoke a cig, talking about life as he gets rather quiet and inward again (for he cannot share, he has nothing positive or appropriate to), they do something unexpected and yet wholly welcome, a gift to close out the night: they give him a quick, brief and fleeting shotgun kiss, hand warm on his cheek, before they send him off for a nap, telling him to stay the night so he'll be well and sober the next day to depart. free breakfast if he's still around by then, otherwise, they take no offense.

he has no way of telling them the truth of this fragile matter. he has no way of divulging his life, which would undoubtedly ruin whatever scrapbook memory he is currently creating, and certainly no way to hold onto this awfully pleasant being who he can, apparently, trust in his total ineptitude with heavy inebriance. and he can't keep seeing them again after this. and his view on how ruthless and manipulative human beings are when faced with vulnerability has been shaken to its' core, and he can't say it, and he wants to, but...

instead he asks them to stay a little while he falls asleep (just one final, little test, he muses to himself), and they oblige. he's laid on the couch, head in their lap, his (admittedly not quite so soft after all the gel has hardened) hair being carded through by soft, ever-eager, sleepy fingers. he will never get a moment like this again and he pushes himself to take it in, revel in every second that passes, commit to absolute memory (no matter what he had earlier in the day) every detail of this sightly, sweetly saint's face.

he ends up falling asleep feeling cherished. he will remember this day forever. years to come he will still have tabs on this person, and their life will still be unexpectedly, oddly lucky.

maybe one day he'll find it in him to thank them properly, face-to-face...

nshtn can i say i love you? because i love you and every time you come in my inbox i get so excited

first and foremost i don't think he even would dance at a party. he very much is the kind of guy to find a spot and linger there with a group he's only half listening to. once he meets you though his night gets much much more interesting

he's never really had chances to drink, except maybe whiskey or something expensive with Spencer during their talks about Umbrella and the future, so when you start handing him all kinds of seltzers and mixed drinks and straight shots of vodka, he is very overwhelmed

he can't show it though! so he dutifully takes most of what you hand him, a few drinks are two sweet for him, and he is very quickly wasted tbh. you're so nice though, and you drag him in the middle of everyone dancing and show him a few easy things and soon enough he's bouncing around with everyone else

every time he starts to think about what's going to happen tomorrow you're immediately there to distract him. it's almost like you can read his mind - you know just the right things to say and how to push people out of the way and he just thinks you're perfect under the flashing lights

finally when it's time to go home, he knows for a fact he can't show up at his place looking messed up as he is - what if Spencer or Birkin or some nameless Umbrella employee saw him and ratted him out? so he takes your offer to go to your house gracefully as he can this drunk

he knows now that you're a party expert, you immediately make him drink water and wash his face and take preemptive tylenol for the hangover. your fleeting kiss and warm hands on his sweaty skin are so sweet he can't bear to think about it longer than he has to. he knows he should leave before you wake up tomorrow and forget this wonderful night ever happened (he'll never forget you, not even on his deathbed)

you give him every courtesy and kindness you can offer and he decides to take just one more, one last sweet touch to take with him into the night. you smile sleepily and open your arms for him to fall into - the blanket covering his shoulders is a little too hot and you both smell like beer and liquor and sweat but your lap is so soft, it makes the ache in his back and shoulders from carrying the world lessen a bit, and your fingers in his hair send him into a beautiful and silent sleep

the next morning it physically pains him to untangle from your body on the couch. he stands and watches you for a moment, his heart clenching and pounding in his chest, until he forces himself out the door before you can feel his absence.

when he meets you again, what feels like a thousand years later, his heart pounds just the same. you recognize him, his twisted dark smirk and deep eyes, and when you smile and say his name he's suddenly twenty-something all over again and dizzy and drunk in your arms - he never wants to leave you again

[daenerysaizie]

𐔌 . ⋮ REALM’S DELIGHT .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

MK1 x Targaryen!Reader

Note:

Game of Thrones concept included in MK 1. Even though, Game of Thrones is kanonically a show in the MK world (shown in the DLC), in this fanfic it’s not lol. Also, I will be changing plots and details for the both. Will get confusing as I’m not an experienced writer and yes :3 OH! You’re also basically Daenarys, sharing the look of classic Valyrian (only hair and eye color) and characteristics. If you don’t know anything about Game of Thrones, don’t worry I will explain it in the fic? But do realize it’s heavily rewritten so it’s not the same as the kanon one. Heavily inspired by “Kombat Hearts” by @ilykirara and “New Era” by @atlasofthestaars . I love this two fics so so much<3 female reader? But read however you like.

Chapter 1 — The beginning

All that was left of the mighty House Targaryen, was you.

You never fully knew about your family's history or the weight your name carried. Yet, you knew very few things. First, you have brothers, though their fate and whereabouts in this vast world are unknown to you. Second, your appearance sets you apart from others - unmistakably Valyrian with striking violet eyes and silver hair. These distinctive features easily made you other worldly, compelling you to dye your hair black and explain away your captivating eye color as a genetic defect. Third, you have one recurring dream. It depicts the demise of your family(your father to be exact), even though you weren't there in person to witness it. Fourth, it is nearly impossible for you to return home. Westeros (your birth continent) and Essos are hidden and barricaded from the rest of the world by some kind of magic. Above all, you are strictly forbidden from uttering your family name: Targaryen.

It was early in the morning, 5 AM to be exact, as you sat on your bed staring at the golden crown in your hands. It was the last thing you had that represented your family's existence and was evidence of your royal heritage. The crown had a large sigil of a three-headed dragon at its center, while seven smaller gems of different colors decorated the rest. You had the same dream again. At this point, you could recall every detail.

"BURN THEM ALL! BURN THEM ALL!" A hoarse, old voice boomed through the room. An old man with a long white beard and crazed eyes yelled, ordering his pyromancers (who used some kind of chemicals to start major fires) while he sat on the Iron Throne, a seat made from thousands of swords. The pyromancers hesitated. It was your father who sat on the throne, though you don't remember him being this crazed and paranoid. He continued to yell until one of his guards, a golden-haired man, drew his sword, stabbed him in the back, and slit his throat. The golden-haired guard watched your crazed father bleed to death as he sat on his throne, yet your father still whispered the same thing as he bled on the floor: "Burn them all."

You ponder if the dream was a real event or not. After all, you were never there to witness this event, and you were extremely young when you fled from home. Plus, the crown you had in your hands did not match your father's crown, the one he was wearing in the dream. What if it was a cruel joke your mind played?

"No use thinking about it," you whisper to yourself as you put away the crown into your nightstand's drawer. With one swift move, you get up to get ready for the day. After all, you had so much to do. You start your morning routine and change from your nightgown into more proper clothes for the day.

You lived with Madam Bo. She had taken you under her care since you were 10 years old. She taught you everything you needed to know, from tough love to combat. You remember the moment she brought you to Fengjian as clear as day. The night was as silent as death when she brought you to this quaint village. Her horse's gallops echoed through the stillness, bringing little bit of life to the sleeping village. She had you firmly seated in front of her on her horse, your hair skillfully concealed beneath her deep purple scarf. Madam Bo took great care to inform you of the local norms and the dos and the don’ts. She explained that your unique features, which were considered royal in Westeros and the Essos, would seem different and will be only met with curiosity.

Later on, you would come to realize that Westeros and Essos were left behind when it came to technological and societal advancement. While the rest of the world was progressing into an advanced society, Westeros and Essos remained firmly stuck in the 'Medieval era.' However, these two continents still held onto their magical traditions, something that the modern society had long since abandoned.

Through Madam Bo, you were able to meet Kung Lao and Raiden. "Thick-skulled boys," she would call them. Growing up, the three of you sparred, trained, and played together. Being homeschooled, Raiden and Kung Lao were diligent in ensuring that you didn't miss out on any fun experiences. After grueling training sessions, the males took turns to take you out for treats. In return, you helped them with various tasks around the farm. This included harvesting the freshly grown vegetables, a labor of gratitude from you. They were also vigilant in ensuring that no boys with ‘ill intentions’ ever bothered you with courting or whatever. Whenever you insisted you could handle yourself, they would respond with a confident "I know," followed by a statement that they knew even better because they were males. In retort, you would often ask, "In that case, should I be cautious of you two as well?" to which they would simply shut down.

Originally, you stayed with the Lin Kuei when you fled from home. The Lin Kuei's former Grandmaster knew your father personally. How? You didn't know. All you knew was that the Grandmaster was kind enough to lend a hand to your father and save his only daughter. "Do you know why you are here, little dragon?" He bent down to your 5-year-old toddler body. You gripped the golden crown to your chest. You had promised your second older brother, Aemond, to keep the crown safe until you returned home. "Home is dangerous." you replied as you looked at the Grandmaster. He had the face of a strict man, but deep in his eyes, you could see honor and kindness burn. He hummed as he nodded, "You will be safe here." he told you as he put his hand on your head. And you were, for 5 years.

Obviously, being in the clan, you were destined to meet the three sons he had. You became close to the youngest one, Tomas. He bore almost the same burdens as you and understood your pains and discomfort. Eventually, you got close to Kuai Liang too. He took care of you and guarded you away from the clan's considerably cruel side. However, as for Bi-Han, you never got the chance to get close. He was heir to his clan, making him busier than his brothers. To your memory, he was cold and strict, stricter than his father. The only vivid memory you have of him is him asking you how your hair and eye color were so... different. You could not give him an answer that satisfied his curiosity.

As you got older, you had to leave. According to the Grandmaster, the clan was not made for you; you were meant to live a life that was peaceful, not a life to become a skilled warrior. Thus, Madam Bo took you to the village where she resided. You would keep contact in with the Lin Kuei brothers through letters. Though, the last letter you got from was a year ago now.

—

The day went by rather quickly. From getting fresh vegetables and produce early in the morning to serving customers until closing time, the day went smoothly. Almost too smoothly. You sigh and hum as you watch your two friends put away food like vacuums, with Kung Lao doing most of the work as usual. It was amusing - how did his stomach not burst? It was superhuman, you swore. Soon, you saw Madam Bo approach the two with a massive bill in her hand. Poor Raiden and his wallet.

Despite closing hours arriving, a few drunken uncles from the village stayed behind. One made a mess on the bottom floor, which you had to clean up. You mopped the floor as the drunken man apologized. "Ahhhh, I'm sorry! Here, here, have this," he slurred his words as he handed you an unopened bottle of beer. You shook your head and refused his token of apology. You chuckled inwardly as you washed away the mess from the floor.

Suddenly, Madam Bo came down to the bottom floor and crashed into the table, breaking it. She was unconscious. "Madam Bo?!" you exclaimed in horror. The drunken uncles behind you seemed to sober up and stare. You looked up to see the culprit with wide eyes.

The man with very familiar hair jumped down to the floor, landing next to Madam Bo's unconscious body. He wore mask that covered his face. Your chest tightened as fear clouded your mind for her. You tried running towards her as the previously drunken guy, now sober from the shock, grabbed your wrist. "Are you crazy!? He's going to kill you!" he whispered as he tugged you, preparing to run. "Go" you whispered back to him. The once-drunken guy thought for a moment and let your wrist go when he saw your determined face. He dashed out of the place with a few other people. You still gripped the mop in your hand as the man approached you. He had grey hair that reminded you of Tomas from your childhood. Was it truly him? You hadn't seen the man for years!

"Surrender to the Lin Kuei! Or end up like her," he replied as he prepared his karambit, aiming it at you. It is him! Is this what the Lin Kuei does now? you thought anxiously. "I thought the Lin Kuei protected people from harm. I never thought you would stoop this low," you spoke calmly, with a hidden wobble in your voice. How could your childhood friend do this?

Kung Lao and Raiden shout your name from the floor above after taking out the other members of the clan. They try to go down to help you, but Bi-Han and Kuai Liang stop them in their tracks. "You interfere with Lin Kuei business. Leave, or face our wrath!" Bi-Han warns as he dramatically stands on the rooftop. Kuai Liang approaches the two with his weapon from behind, swinging it in the air. "Abandon Madam Bo and her? Not happening," Kung Lao replies. After his reply, Bi-Han launches himself at Raiden while Kuai Liang grabs Kung Lao, pulling him towards himself as he yells ferociously, "Get over here!"

Tomas slowly approaches you with his karambit, closing the distance between you two, as if he were a hunter and you were his prey. You contemplate your actions as you grip the mop tighter until your knuckles turn white. When the gap closes, he swings his karambit at you. You dodge his attack and use the tip of the mop to strike his stomach multiple times before hitting him hard on the head with the mop's end. He falls down. "No, it can't be that easy," you think to yourself as you look at his ‘unconscious’ body. Emotions surge through you the more you look at him, unsure how to feel, but you take the result for granted, leaving the mop near his head and running towards Madam Bo.

The noises around you seem to blur as you barely breathe. You gently turn her body to see her, and your hands shakily brush her face to sweep away the strands of her hair. "Madam Bo?" you whisper with great worry and fear. Soon enough, Kung Lao and Raiden come running down to you. They ask about your condition first before turning to Madam Bo. "Oh no. Is she—" Kung Lao is cut off when Madam Bo suddenly opens her eyes and looks at you three. "Dead? Not yet." You three can hear the playfulness in her voice as she stands up. You and Raiden are quick to help her, but she brushes away your hands as she swiftly lights up her cigarette. "Madam Bo, how are you—" Kung Lao gets interrupted again. Raiden points at the stairs, "Guys!"

"So, Madam Bo, are they ready?" A man comes down as he takes his hood off, revealing his glowing eyes and chiseled face that bears a small, proud smile. You notice it's the same man who caught your attention earlier today. Madam Bo was fondly standing at his table as she served him tea. You anxiously fidget with the ring on your middle finger. Raiden notices your fidgeting and gently takes your hand, holding it firmly with care.

Madam Bo stands in front as if to present you three. "These two are a bit thick in the head, perhaps... But they are ready," she says, referring to Raiden and Kung Lao. "However, I did not think my child would be included in the exam," she chuckles as she glances at you.

"His eyes are glowing," Raiden blurts out to Kung Lao, who is on his right side with you on his left, still holding your hand.

"I am Lord Liu Kang, God of Fire and Protector of Earthrealm," the man with glowing eyes introduces himself as he connects his hands together and folds his arms. In response, you gently let go of Raiden's hand to bow to the god. "God? Earthrealm?" Kung Lao asks with curiosity as Raiden observes the god, silently mourning the loss of contact with your hand.

"Madam Bo has been preparing you for this moment since you were boys. Today you have proven worthy of joining my champions," he explains further.

"This fight was a test?" Raiden asks. The god smiles and nods, "Of your ability and character, yes. Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, Tomas," he calls out to the Lin Kuei members. Bi-Han and Kuai Liang come down the stairs while Tomas, who was already on the same floor, stands up and positions himself behind the god.

"So these three aren't thugs?" Kung Lao asks suspiciously, eyeing them. You can only send an apologetic look to Tomas, who returns it with soft eyes.

"The Lin Kuei is a centuries-old clan dedicated to Earthrealm's defense," the god explains.

"You keep saying Earthrealm. Don't you mean Earth?" Raiden asks, confused. Madam Bo chuckles as you smile. You already possessed a little information of this topic. "You boys have so much to learn," she says.

"Earth is only part of Earthrealm. Earthrealm itself is one of many realms. Together they comprise the whole of the universe," the god explains, gesturing with his hands. "The realms can be fierce, bitter rivals. That's why we need champions to defend ours," Madam Bo adds. "The time draws near for the grand martial arts tournament between Earthrealm and the realm of Outworld. Held once each century, it allows each realm to demonstrate its strength. While our realms are at peace, there are Outworlders who would prefer us to be at war. Our victory in the tournament will... temper their zeal," the god concludes.

Madam Bo turns to the boys and partially to you, "I've taught you everything I can. You must finish your training with Lord Liu Kang," she informs them.

"More training? These three couldn't defeat us," Kung Lao asks skeptically. At his remark, Bi-Han scoffs audibly, which makes Madam Bo chuckle along with him.

"They were pulling their punches," she explains. You nod at her words as you remember the Lin Kuei being so formidable and strong. "Had we not held back, you would not have survived," Bi-Han says proudly and threateningly, stepping forward slightly. Lord Liu Kang blocks his way and interrupts him. "Come. The monks at the Wu Shi Academy await to continue your tutelage." The god offers the choice, which Kung Lao accepts without hesitation.

"And you, Raiden?" the god asks. Raiden hesitates, "Leave Fengjian? I'm needed here," he replies. Madam Bo steps in, "Earthrealm needs you, Raiden. You'll best serve the village by being one of its champions," she assures him. After considering for a moment, Raiden agrees to the god's offer with a simple "I understand."

"How about you? You have proven yourself to be worthy as well," the god turns to you as he utters your name. You, who had been silent the whole time, gape at his question. You point towards yourself, "Me?" you ask, to confirm. Madam Bo chuckles. "Come on! You heard the god. The three of us could train together like we always did!" Kung Lao says as he steps forward towards you as Raiden nods in agreement. You were unsure. "But I do not fight well and I cannot leave Madam Bo." you answer bluntly. At your words, Madam Bo chuckles as she pushes you towards the god by your waist. "Forgive me, Lord Liu Kang. As you can see, she is timid, obedient, and so humble. But she has the spirit of the dragon." she says. The god and everyone else only looks at you and awaits your answer. You sigh and nod, which earns a proud smile from Madam Bo.

"Excellent. I will join you soon. First, there are other champions I must gather," the god says.

—

Lord Liu Kang departed the tea house to gather his other champions with Kung Lao and Raiden shortly after him, to prepare for the Wu Shi academy.

The Lin Kuei stayed behind to clean up the aftermath of their physical test, during which you exchanged subtle glances with them. It had been over a decade since you last saw them, and they had transformed from boys into men, now towering above you easily. Their faces had become more defined and chiseled, contrasting the young boys you remembered.

“You dyed your hair.” Tomas remarks as he approaches you. You were setting the chairs upside down on the table to sweep any debris or broken objects. “Ah, I had to” you return his greeting with a warm smile and stand up straight. A moment of silence hangs between you, filled with the unspoken words and nostalgia.

“You and your brothers haven’t written for a year now. Why?” You ask with curiosity. As you ask about the lack of communication from the brothers, Tomas chuckles softly and explains, “Many more new initiates. How about you? You haven’t written to us as well,” He then turns it back on you, wondering why you haven't written either. You answer in a soft voice, your smile revealing a hint of melancholy. "Life hasn't changed much for me," you reply. "I didn't want to bother you or your brother."

Tomas can only hum in response and before you could speak. “We will leave” Bi-Han commands, followed by Kuai Liang, as he walks up to you and Tomas. You immediately bow to them in greeting, and Bi-Han responds with a nod. Kuai Liang, on the other hand, returns your greeting with a slight bow.

"It was lovely seeing you three again," you say, your smile lighting up the conversation. "I hope we'll meet more in the future." There was happiness in your voice as you express this sentiment, despite the awkwardness, it was still refreshing to be in their presence. Kuai Liang responds with a simple, but sincere "I agree." Bi-Han quickly guides his brothers and the members of the clan out of the tea house, after finish repairing.

As the repair work on the tea house concludes, you realize that the only task left is the chore of cleaning. With a sigh, you mentally prepare yourself for the tedious process of scrubbing and tidying up, accepting the fact that it's part of your responsibilities. Madam Bo helped you, as always.

[beautiful-basque-country]

The cave-houses of Lodosa

In Lodosa (Nafarroa) from the beginning of the 19th century to the 60s of the last century, there were more than two hundred cave-houses, and the dozens of villagers that lived in them were the poorest of the poor. In many villages of the region it was common to live in caves dug in the sandstone.

"We had candles and chandeliers. The mattress was made of corn leaves. Those were other times. We used to go to the Ebro to look for water, and then to the spring, one clay jar on the head and the other on the lap." Mari Carmen Molinet Martinez (Lodosa, Nafarroa, 1943) lived in a cave until the age of 8. "There are six of us, and the three oldest were born in the cave. I am the oldest. I've known two caves; the first had a cold room. The second one was on the way to Calvary, it was more humble. I think we went there because the rent was cheaper. Those were tough times. My friends were poor, but we were poorer; I never had a doll that was mine. We used to play jacks and hopscotch."

War made everything even more cruel. After Iruña, ​​Lodosa was the town in Nafarroa that suffered the most deaths after the military coup of 1936. Florencio Duque Campo (Lodosa, 1937) was in his mother's womb when his father was shot. "My mother didn't even know she was pregnant. Father was taken one night, to Zaragoza. It was October, and I was born in May. They threw him in a mass grave. They brought 37 boxes to the town, but we don't know if dad's bones are in any."

The cave where Duque used to live is one of the 4 or 5 that have been restored. He agrees with melancholy that the years he lived there, even if cruel, were also happy, because childhood always finds a place for joy: at night, millions of stars appeared - "not one more could fit" - but it was still compatible with hunger. "We had nothing, not even a crumb of bread. We ate grass, like sheep. Mallow, corn, carrots… If we saw an apple on the ground, all the children would run to get it…».

Duque's cave was bought by his parents, when they got married in 1928, and his father gradually expanded it. As soon as children were born, they dug the bedrooms needed. They all had the same structure, simple and humble. The cold room is a unique characteristic of the Lodosa caves. The sky can be seen through the hole made above the ground. In Duque's words, when walking through the field, all the children knew where the cooler was for each cave: "No one fell into the hole. We were always running."

In 1961, the city council issued a decree warning of the dangers of living in caves. About eighty people lived in them at the time. The municipality built cheap houses for them, and over the years many caves collapsed, or were closed. Historian Kristina Pozo has been doing guided tours and says with a smile that even if the lifestyle was difficult, those who lived in the caves remember those times with tenderness. "When they moved to the town center, many, many people went to see the cave every day, they loved their cave that much."

On Saturday [Sept 28 2024] the people of Lodosa will remember this lifestyle, as they have organized conferences to discover the heritage of the caves: the cave-houses will be open and the citizens will sit on reed chairs, in the doorways, and remember crafts, songs and games just like in the past.

[x]

[duskier]

Invisible man but it's toxic Ghoap x reader ...

cw: this is literally just ghoap mentally torturing reader and there are mentions of them intending to kill the reader 🫶

Them having access to fictional sounding levels of military technology and getting two suits of their own that allow them to go completely invisible- suits designed to even erase their shadows via a complex system of reflections and lights.

Of course, you're the first thing to come to mind when they put them on. You were their favorite barista at a café close to base. You probably didn't remember them out of your sea of regulars, but they never stopped thinking about you, a mutual fixation on you blooming between them. They start out small, breaking and entering in the middle of the night. Unplugging your phone from the charger so you wake up without an alarm, the battery long dead. Turning off power to your fridge and leaving the doors open, the food spoiled by the time you wake up.

The best part of the suits is they get to stick around and watch your devastation. Scrambling out of bed with a panicked, half asleep noise, putting on the first set of work clothes you can find. Soap leaning against your fridge so he can get a full look at your face as it crumples at the sight, your vegetables wilted and your meat already smelling.

Ghost takes it a step further after nights of keeping you awake with strange knocks around the house or precious items crashing to the floor. Soap has to bite his lip to keep from giggling as they take turns whispering your name in the night. They wait a few minutes between while they watch you peer into the dark, breath shaking in your chest in fear. You look so adorable with your eyes wide and darting about, like a pretty little thing of prey in your thin tank top and comfy panties. Like you're just waiting to be eaten.

Ghost brushes by Soap, hands reaching out purposefully to give his hand a squeeze. A silent command to stay. Soap is left waiting with you, continuing to admire how vulnerable you look. All it does is leave his cock swelling in the pants, fantasizing about ways he could get you to make that pretty frightened face for him more directly. Soap couldn't wait to get his hands on you, make you feel real weakness under his grip. They weren't going to fuck with you forever, this was just them playing with their food. A sort of foreplay. He wonders if you'd cry, if you'd beg for your life. Or would you try and play along, in hopes they'd spare you? Would you try to fight back, could you maybe land a blow on him? Soap palms himself quietly, careful to not let your now focused hearing catch him in the act. He really hopes you can split his lip or something, leave a scar to remember you by.

The both of you startle as suddenly you hear Ghost bellowing your name from somewhere on the first floor. His voice is so loud, so angry, it barely sounds human and is left ringing in your ears for a full minute after. You're paralyzed with fear, hyperventilating now. Before you could snap out of it and reach for your phone, you screamed at the feeling of a hand gripping your ankle and yanking you to the foot of the bed.

There was nothing and no one there. Even in the limited light you could tell that you were alone. This must have been a break in your psyche, you reassured yourself, just because you haven't been sleeping well and things have been going wrong in the house. No matter how you reassure yourself, you still creep down the stairs to look around for any signs of intrusion.

Every step, you pause and listen around for something, anything. Maybe a bear broke into your house for food or a thief was rooting through your office for your safe box. Maybe it was something as small and harmless as mice knocking over furniture. Every second feels like an eternity, your heart racing in your throat.

"Hello? I know there's someone here. Just leave, and I won't call the cops."

Ghost sneers at you behind the suit. What a stupid thing for you to do and say. He considers jumping the gun, ruining the mystery by revealing himself and teaching you a lesson. Soap inadvertently stops him, setting off your security alarm.

The high pitched alarm rang out, making you wince and cover your ears. Your house phone starts ringing, you scramble to pick it up. Backing yourself up against your living room wall to stare wide eyed into the darkness.

"Knight Security. Please provide your security code." The voice on the line said. The man sounded calm, kind, certain. It somehow helped to make you focus, take a deep breath. Probably why the guy worked there.

"CL-NG-8675."

"Alright, got you. The alarms were tripped at your property. Everything alright?"

Was everything alright? Now talking to another living being, you weren't so sure. You tried to put everything you were experiencing into words but found you sounded incredibly silly... or one foot into a mental break.

"...Yeah, I'm alright."

"That's good. I'll get those sirens turned off for you and call off emergency services. Now, procedure does require me to have you walk through all possible entrances and exits in the home just to verify security. Would you mind checking the front door, love?"

Blissfully, the alarm turned off. The ear piercing sound finally gone, you let out a sigh of relief. The handsome voice on the phone asked you to check the front door, so you did. Confirmed it was locked and secure, just as you left it before bed.

He had you do the same with your garage door, the side door to the yard, and the back door.

"Perfect. You did a great job. Best customer of the night, if I may say," You could hear the smile in his voice.

"Why, thank you. You may," You quipped back, smiling to yourself in the darkness of the living room.

The man on the phone sounded like he was going to say goodbye, but he paused and made a small sound. "Oh! Before I let you go, I have one more question I have to add to the report."

"Of course, anything," You say, eager to please now that your heart had stopped racing.

"Are you alone in the home?"

Your response was immediate. "Yes."

The line went silent for a few beats. "...Are you sure?"

You could still hear the smile in his voice, but these words were spoken softly, dangerously.

"...What?"

"Turn around."

[y-rhywbeth2]

Elves: Social Life

Society, family, friends, dating and marriage, blah

Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Index [tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. There's a lot of lore; I don't know everything. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest. etc]

Physiology and quirks | Names & Clans and Houses || Pan-Cultural things: Social life | Time and Age Categories | Art, Entertainment and Technology || Elven 'Subraces' still a wip || Philosophy and Religion & Pantheons || Half-elves | [WIP]

I hit the point where I'm tired of editing and checking sources, so here's some idea on how relationships work for elves whatever level of coherency it has. There might be more or contradictory information in other novels, but I do not have that much free time.

Mostly surface elves, mostly elves in elven lands. Though it also applies to elven diaspora communities (who do stick together and maintain their culture).

• Elven social life in general, plus greetings and etc

• Gender roles in society (or lack therof)

• Family and terminology

• Dating, sex and marriage That I guess you can use for ideas for your elven pcs or if you're dating the vampire who probably doesn't give a damn about elven social mores, the druid or whoever. idk how much elven social norms matter to Ketheric, but if you want to fuck the villainous old man you could give it a shot.

-

'Elves who lived even in reasonably close contact were so connected to each other through the Reverie and the Weave that they shared at least some shadow of each other’s emotional experiences.'

There's a balancing act involved in elven societies where personal freedom is greatly prized but at the same time they're very community-centric cultures.

An elf is an individual part of many things: their House, their settlement, their environment, the People as a whole (which includes the Seldarine). The health and wellbeing of all of these things is the health and wellbeing of you, as your elders will teach you growing up.

Regardless of blood relation elves will usually address an elf of same rank and age as siblings; 'brother,' 'sister,' etc. Another term for a young (surface) elven stranger is 'thaes.' A friend is 'ebrath,' for surface elves and 'abbil' for drow. Although insofar as I remember I think it's used to address an elf you don't know and just met with that term until you learn their name or title. There's a whole host of titles and honorifics for nobles, elders and important people.

Elves prioritise their Clan/House allegiance first and foremost, their homeland second (be that Evereska, or the Wealdath, or Ched Nasad, or wherever), their subrace next, and then the elven people as a whole.

House politics is a whole other post, but suffice to say your House is usually your family, your political party and likely your employer with its own internal culture and laws that you follow, and you'll likely be working in the family business (or one of them). Your personal reputation affects your House reputation, and your House's reputation and the reputation and behaviour of your clanmates also affects your reputation and determines what doors are open or closed to you. If an alehouse is owned by a member of a rival House, or one of their allied Clans/Houses, don't expect service; if a village or hunting grounds is home to a rival House/Clan don't expect a warm welcome there.

The higher your personal rank and the rank of your family, the more the personal-community social symbiosis affects you. What counts as lessening or increasing personal and familial prestige varies by elven culture and what they value.

There's another balancing act in elven culture with really, really deep intimacy and also not intruding on another's personal space. There must be room for quiet and solitude and respecting the individuality of another in between the mind-melding and oversharing.

An elven social circle is often decided by hobbies and careers, where the elves gather together to learn from elves with skills they desire and debate and infodump about whatever hyperfixation they're absolutely obsessed about with those who share it (those who don't share these interests make poor conversation for each other). There will be months, if not years, where individual elves won't be seen or receptive to socialising because they're busy with whatever project they're working on.

Privacy is a concept, but it's not as strong as it is with non-elves. There is no nudity taboo, and a significant amount of elven magic used in daily life, even outside of communion, involves mind reading (usually for security reasons).

Your fuck ups will be remembered. Evereskans at least have no social taboo against plainly discussing the personal business and even the failures of others amongst themselves even if you're standing right there, so you will hear about it and your neighbours will know. It's taboo to be overly frank or cruel to you about it - and most are not intentionally being cruel, just matter of fact - but there will be reactions like pity and scorn all over.

The lack of privacy is actually one of the complaints elves often have about their own culture when it gets too invasive.

Elves are also very good at holding a grudge; forgiveness is not a virtue in a people who relieve their memories over and over every night, including any pain you've given them.

Their in-group thinking also lends itself too neatly to xenophobia. The Tel'Quessir are masters at the sport of us vs them, and choosing 'them' is a betrayal that can garner a response of mass hysteria and violence depending on the nature of the slight (real or perceived), although violence is significantly more likely from elven youth (aged under 100-250ish years old). Aiding an N'Quess against an elf? The height of betrayal.

An elven 'in-group,' usually their immediate community, is often tightly knit even if they don't like each other or spend much time together: the community's young are encouraged to grow up together and be educated together for the first 10-20 years, and shared reverie and the connections of the elven soul joined by the Weave and Sehanine provides a mild empathic link in the background which means that harming another elf in ones 'group' should rebound on the perpetrator to at least some extent. To harm your own is literally to harm yourself.

Elven friends and family usually commune and reverie together, allowing them to know the others' thoughts, memories and personalities almost as well as their own.

Expressing sadism and spite or engaging in violence amongst non-drow (and many dark elves too) is greatly frowned upon, it's considered 'lowminded' and the behaviour of the N'Quess. Even Lolthite drow frown on open violence and conflict within settlements, both for its disruptive effect and because it shows a lack of sense and skill (tavern brawls, military training and slum raids notwithstanding).

All that is far from saying that elves are incapable of resenting or harming other elves, as their long history of bloody disaster shows.

Relieving their memories in reverie means that elven relationships - the good and the bad - are long lasting. An elf remembers their grudges against you because every now and again they get a refresher where they literally reexperience the times you pissed them off. An elf stays in love with you because those early days and emotions stay fresh in their minds.

Exile is a great punishment, and elves encountering others marked such (whether they were exiled for something they did or self-exiled) respond with 'suspicion and hostility.' Exiled criminals and the most severely outcast often take up worship of Fenmarel Mestarine, patron god of said outcasts, and frequently pack up to live in the wilds alone. You can often spot why they're exiled because they often wear a personal token somewhere on their person symbolising it.

Elves usually expect their friendships and romances to be very emotionally intimate affairs where it's normal to know somebody's deepest fears and desires at a degree of knowledge that, say, humans would not volunteer. Friendships go deep. Aside from the racism that's one of the biggest contributors to their aloofness around non-elves. The time it takes to get to know some of them notwithstanding (humans in particular will be senile or dead before your newborn child is legally old enough to vote and elves like to take their time), the concept of losing such close loved ones in only a century or two (or worse, less than one) is devastating and they will relieve a life and loss for hundreds of years after their friends are gone. There's an argument amongst elves about whether a brief lifespan makes it all the more important to make use of that time and that at least they'll have the memories, or whether loving the 'shortlives' is a form of self-harm.

(While the traditional word for non-elves is N'Tel'Quessir, or N'Quess, in human lands the slang word aethen or 'the others' has caught on.)

Rule of thumb: Half-elves, gnomes and halflings are the most socially acceptable friends in that order. Elves and gnomes being the most culturally compatible N'Quess, with a respect for community, art and nature, as well as loving a good time. Humans and dwarves are in competition for the elven culture's least compatible, with dwarves generally winning since their cultures often have polar opposite values. Orcs and half-orcs - and other goblinoids -can expect to be viewed as vermin rather than people, though a half-orc might get an extremely racist and condescending congratulations on 'defying their base nature' or some shit. (Whatever elves on the whole think of the dragonborn has never really been discussed, and it's safe to say they don't like tieflings.)

There is a status, Sha'Quessir, the Elf-Friends, granted to non-elves who are loved by an elf (platonically or romantically) and perform some great service for the people which is rewarded with adoption. The individual is, for all social purposes, one of the People and must be treated with the same respect, with the price tag being that they must act as one of the people and share in their concerns and causes (like the grave-robbing of elven burial sites and tombs, the out of control deforestation and loss of elven homelands, etc). They're even allowed to live on Evermeet, and can be recognised by a token on their person called an elfrune.

In terms of politics it's usually a clash between the conservatives who want elvendom exactly as it is and 'always has been' with a clear distinction between the 'right people' and the others and what counts for a 'proper elf,' and the moderates and liberals who chafe under a millennia of tradition and/or think the Tel'Quessir need to join the rest of the world in the modern year before the oncoming future crushes them all.

-

Inclining/'bobbing' your head in acknowledgement is the equivalent of a handshake, at least amongst Evereskans.

Elves do not have a tradition of shaking hands, and an elf raised in elven lands unaccustomed to the notion is liable to be confused and uncomfortable if you try and touch their hand without permission. Probably something to do with communion usually being initiated by holding hands and the fact that the palms of the hands are extremely sensitive, so touching hands is probably significantly more intimate to an elf.

A polite farewell is: 'Sweet water and light laughter.' The response to which is: 'Back soon for soft songs and bright wine.'

When introducing somebody to another person/s you end the introductions with: 'May your meeting and parting be of equal pleasure.' To which the person you're introducing should say: 'My honour is brightened.'

A full formal greeting when approaching strange elves on the road (outside the bounds of civilisation) is translated as: 'Fair be our meeting, for our hearts are light and our swords sheathed, we hold peace in our hands and its light guides us.' Which is to be sung.

Welcome home is simply 'Glad homeagain.'

Pressing foreheads together seems to be a display of affection.

All elven cultures have a custom of exchanging gifts, where the character of the gifter is measured by the value of the gift (such things being judged primarily by their aesthetic beauty and any magic it contains, with its material value benign judged second). It's polite to offer a gift of equal value in return. For the original gifter to refuse the return token in exchange is viewed as odd.

Amongst the dark elves of Ilythiir an exchange of weapons was a display of trust, and sometimes a pledge of service/assistance should they ever be called on,' which may well still exist amongst modern dark elves. Although Menzoberranzan has a variant where you take another's weapon, display your skill with it and hand it back to illustrate 'I mean you no harm' as a peaceful greeting with strangers.

There's a tradition called the Rule of Saving: When one saves another's life, the saviour can invoke a debt which means that the individual owes them their life to do with as they please.

Gender roles:

Rule of thumb, due to their entire pantheon being genderfluid elves tend towards egalitarianism in their societies. If your gods encompass both genders then it's hard to say one is lesser or greater, and some consider androgyny in mortal elves to be a sign of divine favour.

On the other hand that doesn't mean elven societies are totally free of nonsense (and horror).

Many societies also have a slight inclination towards matriarchy (dark elves infamously having more than a 'slight' inclination in the majority of cases); a woman's word often carries more weight in discussions if she chooses to weigh in. Evermeet in particular saw a shift towards matriarchy as Queen Amlaruil grew to become a beloved monarch and ended up with an inner council of advisors comprised of the female elders of the noble houses.

Dark elves are of course infamous for their matriarchies: Lolthites, Kiaransaleen and Eilistraeeans all favour - if not mandate - female leadership. Men are artisans and helpers, women are leaders.

On the flip side there are the patriarchal elven societies.

Aquatic elves have a patriarchal nobility.

At least one city of Vhaeraunites has ignored the part of their god's doctrine that says 'equality' and instituted the patriarchal mirror of Lolthite society.

And then there was the sun elven empire of Cormanthor (which was sun elven by origin and overarching culture, but had significant moon elven population), which was a nightmare where women would bitterly comment that they were good only for arm candy and providing heirs and that many elven men would say they didn't believe women had brains; women couldn't socialise with elves outside of their House without their patriarch's permission, and one woman had a nervous breakdown at the idea of confronting her husband on the grounds that he could very well beat her to death for talking back in public and throw her corpse out the window and then just get a new wife (he does later, hungover, threaten her with a horsewhip for challenging him).

So you know, fun times.

Mostly you're getting full gender equality.

-

Family:

One's family, strictly speaking, is one's Clan (or House, if the family holds noble status (doesn't make every member a noble though)). Aside from your parents, siblings, first cousins, grandparents, uncles, aunts and such you have a network of in-laws, cousins and employees sharing your surname and playing a part in the family business/es. The largest Houses will have people scattered around the world that you've probably never met.

Ancestry is also a very important part of elven identity, and an elf will know the famous and infamous stuff their family got up to. If the fame came from heroism and great deeds then the family will obsess over it, if it's negative press then elves will carry the stigma or do their best to make sure the knowledge never sees the light of day (you do not want word getting around that you're descended from the Vyshaan or Dlardrageth, for example.)

That's your ancestry and Clan or House, but the immediate blood relations, and likely the people who raise you, are your Blesséd.

Due to their lifespans and low fertility rates, siblings rarely grow up together since it's likely that older siblings will be adults by the time they get any. Educating and watching over the family's children is often a task for the elderly, who can no longer work, so that they can still make use of their centuries of experience and contribute to the community.

Family lineage tracks matrilineal and patrilineal. Except for most drow, who only track matrilineal.

For the drow I only know of the words for mother and father ('Ilhar' and 'Ilharn')

For surface elves (for most of which there are no gender neutral variants given):

Parent: O Child: Sum Cousin: Tyss Cousins: Tyssir

Brother: Tan Sister: Nys Daughter: A'Sum Son: E'Sum Granddaughter by daughter: A'a'sum Grandson by daughter: E'a'sum Granddaughter by son: A'e'sum Grandson by son: E'e'sum Niece by sister (sister-daughter): A'Su'Nys Niece by brother ('brother-daughter): A'Su'Tan Nephew by sister (sister-son): E'Su'Nys Nephew by brother (brother-son): E'Su'Tan

Matrilineal line: Mother: O'Si Grandmother: I'Osi Grandfather: I'Osu Uncle: Osi'Tan Aunt: Osi'Nys

Patrilineal line: Father: O'Su Grandmother: U'Osi Grandfather: U'Osu Uncle: Osu'Tan Aunt: Osu'Nys

-

Dating and marriage

'The love of an elf is a deep and precious thing. Misused or spurned, it can be deadly. Realms have fallen and been sundered for love, and proud elder houses swept away. Some have said that an elf is the force of his or her love, and all else just flesh and dross...' - Shalheira Talandren (who is a bard so is perhaps being a touch melodramatic as her trade demands)

Like many non-human people, elves referring to their sexual and romantic partners translate the terms in common as 'mates' and the act of sex as 'mating.' (Dwarves, orcs, dragons and vampires also refer to their SOs as mates... although that vampire was an elf, so maybe it's just certain vampires. I don't know about gnomes and halflings but it's the preferred terminology for many demihumans and nonhumans).

This is one of those things where it depends on the writer, but apparently some degree of demisexuality is very common for elves, where it can be a cultural norm to be baffled as to why you'd lust after somebody when you have no affection for them.

'Her men, however, were staring at Takari with such a look of feral hunger [...] Under the circumstances, they could hardly have developed any feelings of love for her, so it was hard for an elf to understand why the mere sight of her naked body should inflame their passions.' - The Summoner.

Somebody wearing revealing clothing or dressed naked would not be seen as advertising a desire for sex, that's just how they're dressed.

They also apparently have lower sex drives, which I suppose could make sense for a longer-lived species.

Courting will involve trying to impress upon the object of your affection the sincerity and depth of your feelings with songs - or poetry if you've failed as an elf and really can't sing - and dancing.

If things are moving towards the erotic then the dancing starts to take on that tone.

There is a form of acrobatic dance amongst elves that involves the dancers wearing nothing but body oil and bells, tied to their bare limbs and beaded into their long hair (which is worn loose), and this dance will often be performed with the aid of a fly spell or some equivalent.

Such dances are actually used in public performances, so while they might be sexual (or not) they aren't necessarily seen as inappropriate (though they can get grumbles from sun elven elders about how back in their day they didn't have this kind of impropriety).

Just in general it seems like elves like bringing magic into the bedroom, but aerial sex seems a popular choice from what I've seen on elf sex.

And ears and apparently hands are erogenous zones.

'On the subject of giving pleasure to elven maids, [the diary] mentioned using one's tongue gently on the palms of the hands and the tips of the ears.' - Elminster in Myth Drannor (despite the 'maidens' part it applies to elves in general)

For lovers who decide to engage in Rapport/aleiryid and bind their minds and souls in a permanent empathic link, the terms 'spirit-deep mate' and 'life-mate' have been used. 'Aleiryid' itself may be a noun for such a partner, and can only be used to refer to a life-mate.

Elves, regardless of how committed they are - eternally psychically linked or no - still generally expect to be given their personal space just as with any other relationship between elves.

In terms of monogamy vs polygamy, sun and maybe moon elves may be more inclined to monogamy and green and wood elves towards polygamy.

Green elves, and by extension most wood elves, default to polyamory. Jealousy is perverse and will disapprove of displays of such possessiveness and flirting and love are just parts of the joys of life. Which isn't to say they don't feel it, but the green elven approach to a love rival is basically, to quote one character, '[they'll] have to share!' The sylvan elves of the High Forest usually dance in trios rather than pairs.

Moon elves probably vary on that cultural norm; there's been an occasion where a moon elf pov character can be read as uncomfortable with polyamory, but on the other hand the silver elves are also infamous for their love of freedom and hedonism, and said character notes his own moon elven father would not begrudge his green elven ex-wife her flirting. Also in moon elven pantheon Corellon has a Queen who is simultaneously three people, so there's a religious argument to be made for 'the gods approve of polyamory' I suppose. As oathbreaking is considered one of the greatest sins possible in moon elven cultures one imagines that infidelity (and definitely breaking your marriage vows) is also very high on the taboo list, regardless of what the relationship set up is - Fun is important, but if something matters enough to make a commitment for it you keep your fucking commitment.

The dark elves of Menzoberranzan have usually been portrayed as serial monogamists, with a side of 'women can fuck as many men on the side as they like.' Dark elves in general don't expect a pairing to last forever.

Sun elves, I'm not so sure. They have a very strong emphasis on lineage and house politics and frown on 'philandering' though so legitimate marriages, family duty and knowing who the parents are is important regardless of monogamy vs polygamy.

Marriage ceremonies are most popular during Midsummer celebrations.

Elopements are most popular on nights of the full moon, when Hanali is supposed to bless your union with good fortune.

In common elves stick to the translations of 'spouse,' 'wife,' 'husband.' 'Consort' crops up, probably refers to nobles spouses.

Between moon elves at least, marriage can be a very simple procedure: you weave a flower crown and place it on your lover's head. That's it, you're married now. You don't need any witnesses or officiants; the prince of Evermeet married his human girlfriend by placing a flower crown made of laurels on her head in the middle of the woods during a private moment. None of the nobility nor his mother approved of him having a human girlfriend nor would they have permitted it, but doesn't matter: flower crown. Generally though there is more ceremony surrounding weddings

There has also been mention of handfasting too, which may be a similar deal, just with trying ribbons around your enjoined hands rather than putting flower crowns on your head.

If you want to bring a high mage into it - which is unusual in the modern era, when they're almost extinct - marriages have also involved the arcane.

Marriages, formal and informal, are performed by priests of Hanali Celanil who are bound by their faith to help you regardless of what society thinks - all lovers must be protected. I suspect most marriages take place under the moonlight, since elves seem to be lunar-centric, but that's just an assumption.

Entering into u'aestar'kess was a popular marriage tradition in love matches, a magical linking much like Rapport/Aleirin, but the enjoined beings can - through concentrating - engage in true 'verbal' telepathic communication. If one of the bonded is in danger then their connection will also alert the partner, who will generally stop at nothing to get to them. Also unlike aleirin u'aestar'kess permits two bonds to exist rather than just one.

Creating an Aestar'Khol was also a popular way of getting married - the ritual wove an oath, in this case marriage vows, into tangible existence in the form of a stone the size of a fist and likely in the shape of a statuette, though a quicker casting will produce a rock covered in inscriptions of the vow. It also allows the spouses to know that their partners are faithful, because breaching contract causes the vowstone to shatter.

Some elves, namely nobles, do arrange marriages, it's a useful way of calling dibs on particularly promising mages, warriors, priests, artisans and etc by having them marry into your House. There's also historical precedent for crackdowns on arranged marriages because squabbling and intrigue over powerful wizards was getting idiotic. If your family picks out a spouse for you you don't have to marry them, but you may face social and financial repercussions from your refusal. Not always though; some nobles, even sun elves, have turned their nose up at tradition and married non-elves and had half-elven heirs without losing too much prestige.

A holy order in the service of Hanali, the Chaperones of the Moonlight Tryst, are rogues and rangers who are tasked with discretely safeguarding elven lovers from those who would interfere with them or use their relationship for some end (blackmail or some other intrigue, for example). They can also be called upon to help arrange secret meetings between star-crossed lovers and aid elopements.

[itsyagurlchip]

Hihi! ^w^ saw your requests were open annnd i was wondering if you could do a husk x reader [romantic + established relationship] where reader is his lucky charm. Like he just has such good luck when they’re around him (especially when he’s gambling). Just make it super cute n fluffy :3

☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･The Best Gamble Love Can Give☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

ᯓᡣ𐭩 warnings: super fluff attack(!) cussing(!) gambling/alcohol addiction(!) wife-coded reader(!)

ᯓᡣ𐭩Guys I swear to God if y'all don't correct my grammar imma find y'all houses and eat your waffle fries/j. This one is super cute anon! Thank you for requesting <33 I want to make some hearts explode with this one. Would you be fine if I made you Husk's spouse? (tehe)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Even if he didn't win, he still has you. And that's more than luck could ever grant.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 !!For those who don't play, Speed is a game where you have 20 cards to discard, and two discard piles. You have to place down each card (one by one) as fast as you can, in order, and whoever runs out of cards first wins. If there are no more cards to place, you grab from the piles on the sides to continue the game. All while keeping 5 cards in your hand at a time. While you don't need to know this in order to read the story- it will be helpful to know bc I'm not that good at explaining card games.!!

Husk kept on losing, and it was starting to piss him off. Today's redemption exercise was to practice to eliminate the need for gambling; ironically, Husk was chosen to lead the rounds of games. The current game was Speed, with Hellish versions of playing cards.

And he was losing. So. Bad.

Everyone was sitting in the main area, with the usual furniture switched out for tables and chairs. Husk growled, but kept his composure.

"Where's the serenity at, dear Husker? Getting 'chaff' now are we? I guess the cat does lose it's skill, after getting too curious of course." Alastor said, antagonizing him further. Husk banged his fist on the table, making the sinner in front of him jump a bit.

"Fuck!" He grumbles out. The first 5 were won easily, but for some reason these past 30 something games have been no luck.

At first, the goal of the exercise was to play a few games, and quit. You know, to discourage bad behavior but still have fun. But right now, even without a genuine bet, he was setting a bad example. He knows. The sinner in front of him was playing swiftly and skillfully. His wing twitched and he grimaced as his mind stuttered.

But he just had to win. He has to keep going.

Charlie was getting concerned, but he waved her off. Everyone else was finished with their rounds of games, it was time for a new activity. But Husk wasn't gonna allow himself to lose like this.

Not to a damned practice game.

Then you walked next to him. One by one, he rapidly placed down cards in order. His partner did as well, speed was the game afterall. His ear twitched as your heels softly clacked against the floor.

"Hey Husk, baby. You doin' any good?" You said, your voice dripping like honey over his ears. But then he remembered the game. You were worried, Vaggie told you he's been going on like this for hours non-stop. It's almost nighttime.

"Yea, don' worry. Imma win this game in just a minute." He responded, gruffly as he missed the chance to place his ace. He put down a 4 over the five in the second discard pile then. 2 cards left in his deck, but none that followed the order of the discard pile. Fuck.

His partner had 1 card left, probably a king considering the cards that were already placed down.

You kissed his fluffy forehead, relishing in the near silent purr he let out.

"Alright sweetheart, finish up the game so everyone can go to sleep." You fidgeted with his ears in your hands for a bit, before letting go and sitting at the bar.

Watching from afar, you saw that he won. But he wanted to play again. This time though, you didn't allow it. Vaggie saw that you had it handled, so she went up to the elevator. Probably to her room with Charlie, you guessed.

You stood up, walking towards him again with a glass of whiskey, swished with chocolate hints. You placed it in front of him while he was shuffling the cards, not before taking a sip.

The affectionate way it is then.

"Hey, you." You said, slowly rubbing up and down on his fur. You could feel it bristle in shivers before relaxing. Your chin rested on top of his head, lifting a bit to see what he was doing.

"Hey? You just talked to me a few minutes ago." He began to set the cards up, so you pluck them up and stacked them away into a withered box. His wing flapped in annoyance.

"I know," you chuckled. "I just knew you wouldn't last long without a drink. Nothin' too sweet of course." You finished, pushing the drink towards him.

While you couldn't eliminate his addictions, you could switch them for others in small amounts, enough to distract him to bed. You can't fix him, he can only help himself when he chooses to. You both know that.

"You know me too well, Sugarpie." Husk smiled, before talking a gulp of the glass you gave him. Half of it was gone. "No cherry?"

You laughed a bit, placing the box in your pocket to put away later. No one was in the room, no one you could see anyway.

"Naw." You rested your chin back down on his head, wrapping your arms around him neck a bit. "You would just swing it away. No appreciation for its flavor-" You scoffed amusedly at the thought.

He was now distracted away from the cards and now on you, good. You could hear Alastor snicker before walking away.

"Ready to go to bed?"

ᯓᡣ𐭩

In the dark room, you slept. Husk didn't.

He was wide awake, in a way that still made him feel tired, but not sleep. On his back, he looked up at the ceiling in mindless thought.

Husk didn't mind though, as long as it didn't affect your sleep. He looked at you. Your breaths were soft, and slow. His eyes dilated, though one could never really prove it.

Grabbing onto your waist, he cuddles into your side just a bit more, and relaxes with a deep sigh.

You, in your half asleep state, reach for him. In which you succeed, running your fingers through the tuffs of his ears in an unknown rhythm. Husk purred freely now, he loved it when this happened.

How lucky was he, of all people in this shitty hell, to still have his wife in the afterlife? Sure, you may not have done great things, but he was afraid that the two of you would forever be separated by heaven.

How lucky was he, in all of his shitty problems and mental shit, to be able to still have you around? To have you want him around?

That thought had brought a soft smile to his face. In all of his gambles, this was the best one he's ever made.

I think I remember who asked this, but then again I'm answering this one late. soooo, if I tag you incorrectly I'm so sorry (@kltira )

I think imma call this place the "debriefing space" bc I always wanna ramble, but I'm never sure where. Also, so people won't have to read this before the oneshot/fic. Nothing here will be specific, maybe things I'm thinking while writing, or things that I sorta wanna discuss.

Rather than being a lucky charm, I was thinking reader to be more of a saving grace for Husk. Which he already finds lucky enough. While you are motivation to win, it doesn't always secure his place for it.

I know this trope is kinds overused, but you and Husk were married during life (yippee!!). You guys are just two old people who want to spend time with each other lmao. I sorta headcannon that when he starts to get too into his addiction, you kind of save him (BUT NOT FROM ALASTOR LMAO/hj) and that was one of the reasons why he married you. Not only to keep himself in control, but to see you guys thrive together <33

you are quite literally his only silence from this hellhole.

{Can we just talk about how when Angel Dust nonconsensually touches Husk ppl call it "cute" and "aww", but when Valentino nonconsensually touches Angel it's now bad? likkke. we love the show but we gotta get some new writers for season 2 and fans who don't mischaracterize everything they see.

I'm now only really starting to think about this- and the double standard is starting to be more noticeable to me. Like when Sir Pentious was saying "no" but those demons still dragged him into the sex room. But that scene was used for entertainment rather than "Hey this is a serious moment" like Valentino was.

I'm all for HuskerDust, but you gotta realize when a character does something bad and does nothing to redeem from it, no matter if they're a part of the main cast or not. (isn't that what the show is supposed to be about- redemption? y'all do understand how destructive this behavior is and how it can easily make HuskerDust toxic right?). }

we need the option for another 'keep reading' thingy bc I talk too much. ignore my yapping.

૮₍˶• .•⑅₎ა tags: @kittykittyanon @bonefanatic @oleander-nin @towomatos @thealphagirl

૮₍˶• .•⑅₎ა@ziipzeepzop-eez @wheezdostuff @spongejuice @cyb3r-st4r @matteo-hamato

@clown-froggi

if you would like to be added, check my blog. if you would like to be added, check my blog. SEE? I SAID IT TWICE!!

[canirove]

The invinsible princess | Chapter 3

“First times”

Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 (coming out next Friday - October 4)

Masterlist

“Knock, knock.”

“Mum, hey.”

“May I come in?” she says from my room's door.

“Sure” I smile. 

“So…” she says, sitting down on my bed. “You are leaving again.”

“It's just for a few weeks, mum.”

“A month. And then it's the summer holidays and you are also going away with your friends and I don't know when I will see you again.”

“Don't be that dramatic, mum” I laugh. 

“The house is gonna be so empty without you and your sister…” she continues . “Though I guess we should be getting used to this. To you spending more time away and following your own path. You aren't our little girls anymore, you are women now.”

“Don’t let dad hear you saying that” I chuckle.

“I won't” she smiles. “But Sofía… Is there anything going on?”

“Uh?”

“Lately you've been… I don't know. Different.”

“Different?” I ask as I keep packing my bag.

“Yes, like… I don't know how to explain it, but you look different. Happier.”

“Well, I am happy.”

“Because you aren't invisible anymore?”

“What?” 

“Sofía…” my mum says, taking a deep breath. “I know that's how you've been feeling all these years. As if you weren't important to us, as if everything was for your sister and we were ignoring you. As if you didn't matter, as if you were just a second choice. But you do matter, Sofía. You do.”

“I know” I whisper, playing with the necklace Pedri gave me over Christmas. Touching the little banana charm has become something I do mostly without thinking when I am nervous or feeling a bit anxious, something that helps me relax.  

“And now… I don't know. You've spent most part of this year constantly going to Barcelona and staying with your aunt and your cousins, looking the happiest I've seen you in a long time when you come back, and I can't help but feel like… like…”

“Like?”

“Like they are giving you the love you deserve. The love your father and I have failed at giving you.”

“You haven't failed me, mum” I say, looking at her.

“Haven't we? Because I can't remember the last time I saw you smiling like this. Well, I do. When Spain won the Euros” she chuckles. “You had the same sparkle in your eyes after the boys came to visit us.”

“The same sparkle?” I laugh.

“Cheesy, I know. But it's the truth” she shrugs. “Both things aren't related, are they?”

“What?”

“Your aunt Cristina has a theory but… Nah. Forget about it.”

“A theory?” I ask her. “What theory?”

“Well, she thinks you are dating someone in Barcelona, and that he may be either one of your cousin's teammates or a Barça player from the football team. One Irene seems to fancy.”

“What?” I laugh, hoping that my reaction will hide the fact that my aunt is right. Kind of.

Because Irene actually fancies a guy who plays handball with her brother, and since I owe her for helping me when I meet with Pedri, now I'm doing the same for her and accompanying her to his games.

“You two go watch your cousin play handball all the time and also go to the Camp Nou pretty often. And then you alone disappear most weekends and don't stop by the house. You say you are meeting with friends, but she suspects it's because you are staying with a boy.”

“That's… I…”

“Ferran!” my mum suddenly says.

“Ferran?”

“That's the boy Irene apparently likes. Are you dating him? I saw you looking his way when they visited us. He is quite handsome.”

“I'm not dating him, mum” I chuckle. “And I wasn't looking his way.” Though I was, because Pedri was obviously next to him. 

“I wouldn't mind if you were” she shrugs. 

“Really? He is… a football player.”

“And?” she says. “I was just a tv news presenter when I met your father.”

“Yes, but… But you had a degree. Most football players have struggled to finish high school.”

“Sofía, as long as you love each other and you have a healthy relationship, I don't care about what the person you choose does for a living. But whatever they do has to be legal, of course” she says with a playful smile.

“Of course” I reply, also smiling. 

“Does this mean there is a boy, then? Is your aunt right?”

“I… ummm…” I say, back to playing with my necklace.

“Got it” she winks. “Am I right about what I was saying earlier too?”

“Uh?”

“About you going to Barcelona so often not just because of a boy, Sofía. I think you are doing it because of me and your father. Because here with us you feel alone and lonely. Because here it is all about your sister and getting her ready for her future. And when we do something together as a family, like going to an event the four of us together for example, it also ends up being about her. So I understand it, Sofía. I understand if you've felt left behind and invisible, and now in Barcelona you don't anymore.”

And the thing is… that she's right. That in Barcelona I've found what I didn't have in Madrid, and not only because of Pedri. 

My aunt Cristina (my dad's sister) has basically adopted me and has been taking care of me as if I was another of her kids (she has four, Irene and her three older brothers). She has set a room just for me, and a box with things she knows I like (like my favourite chocolate or some of my favourite skincare products), is waiting for me in my bed every time I go back. And every day I share at least one meal with her, Irene, her brothers or all of them at the same time, something I'm not used to and that I've always missed back in Madrid. The laughs, the bickering between my cousins, the catching up about how your day has been… With my parents it mostly is silence or talk about work, even when Leonor is at home.

And speaking of work, I've found myself working on something I actually like, which isn't easy being who I am, invisible or not. 

My aunt takes care of some charities and foundations created and sponsored by the crown, and while Irene is at uni, Pedri in training and I'm bored at home, I usually accompany her to her meetings and help her with everything she may need as some kind of assistant. That's how I've found myself taking care of the foundation named after my sister, one that is focused on young people and helping them in anything they may need. And I… love it. I love it all, from coming up with new ideas for charity events, to meeting the kids and teenagers who are part of the foundation and spending time with them and helping them with whatever they may need, to even doing all the paperwork. 

Last time I was in Barcelona for example, I helped a group of kids with their homework, and once we were finished we spent most of the afternoon playing together, all of them going back home with a big smile on their faces. Them and I, to be honest. 

On this trip, among other things, I'm going back for an event with Barça's foundation that I've managed to organize thanks to Pedri's help, and I am so looking forward to it. You should have seen the kids’ faces when I told them about it, they couldn't believe it. I can't wait to see their reaction when he actually shows up and surprises them. 

And now that I mention him again, things are going so well between us… I sometimes have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming, that everything I'm living and feeling with and for him is real. That I'm… that I'm in love with him even if I haven't found the guts to tell him just yet. 

What I have had to guts for, tho, is to say yes when he asked me to be his girlfriend, and he did it just a couple of weeks ago while he was away with the national team in Germany. 

Since it was the first official game Spain was playing after winning the Euros and Germany kind of is special for us, I went to watch him play. It wasn't an official visit, so as usual, going unnoticed was the easiest thing in the world.  

After the game we managed to have a sneaky date, and it was perfect even if we didn't leave my hotel room. Carlos was the best and helped us with everything, and even though he has to deal with us constantly being cheesy and too touchy when we are together out and about, I think he is starting to get used to it. To us being together.

“I'm sorry, Sofía. I'm sorry we've made you feel like that. That we've ignored you and neglected you the way we have.”

“Mum, I…”

“But we love you, Sofía. You know we do, don't you?”

“Of course I do, mum! I've never doubted that.”

“Then… do you forgive us?” she says, getting up and walking towards where I am standing. 

“There is nothing to forget, mum” I say, taking her hands on mine. “I know you were doing the best you could. And being invisible isn't that bad sometimes” I shrug.

“You aren't invisible, Sofía” she says, squeezing my hands. “You are a remarkable young woman, one I am very proud of. One both your father and I are very proud of.”

“Thank you, mum.”

“Ugh, come here” she says before hugging me. 

“Mum, can you… Can you squeeze me a bit less tightly, please? I can't breathe.”

“Oh, sorry” she says, still not letting go of me. “See how you aren't invisible?”

“Yeah” I chuckle.

“Though I hope you aren't using that excuse to do things you shouldn't. Like sneaking out to see that boy…”

“Mum…”

“Oh, look at the colour of your face” she laughs. “Will you tell me more about him if things get serious between you two?”

“I will.”

“Good” she smiles. “Now, do you need any help packing? You know I'm an expert. And maybe we could put on some music while we do it? I'm so out of the loop with what you girls like... Last thing I remember is One Direction, and I believe they stopped making music together years ago.”

“You are a bit out of date, yes.”

“Then… May I help you pack?”

“You may” I smile. “Thank you, mum.”

“You're welcome” she says, kissing my cheek.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Look at him. He never pays attention to his hair, and now he's been looking at himself in the mirror for the past five minutes” Ferran chuckles.

“His girlfriend is coming to see him play. He has to look royally good” Fermín says.

“I can hear you, you know?” Pedri says, trying to tame a lock of hair that keeps sticking out. He should not be bothering so much with it, he's about to go into the pitch and after a couple of runs it'll be ruined. But Sofía is on the stands, and he wants to look good for her even if she always says that she prefers his hair when it is messy.

“She is still coming to my birthday party, isn't she?” Fermín says.

“She is. She actually got you a present” Pedri says, giving up with his hair.

“A royal one?”

“Will you ever stop with those jokes?” Pedri says, rolling his eyes.

“Ummm… no” Fermín smiles.

“Don't worry, Pedri” Ferran says, putting an arm around his shoulders and messing his hair with his other hand. “He will go all shy when he meets her and won't say a word to her the whole night, you'll see.”

“I already met her when we went to the palace after the Euros, you know?” Fermín says.

“Yeah, and you weren't able to look up her shoes” Ferran laughs. “So don't worry about him, Pedri. Just focus on the game and scoring a goal to dedicate to your princess.”

“Ferran!” 

“What? Many people call their girlfriends princess as a cute nickname” he shrugs. “No one has to know that yours actually is a real one” he smirks.

“Yeah, well.”

No one from the team knew about Sofía. No one but Ferran, Fermín and Gavi, of course. And Pedri was expecting to end the season like that, with not having to tell anyone else. 

They only had four more games left. Four games, and he would be able to go on holidays with Sofía. 

They had booked a little house in the south in France to be alone and celebrate their anniversary since they had picked the date they met at the Euros for it, and he couldn't wait to go there and just disconnect. To spend his days waking up and going to bed next to her, cooking their meals together and eating them in the garden while they talked about the most random things, going for walks together without worrying about someone recognising them, to watch the sunset together on the beach, and basically enjoy her company and… well. Her. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Guys, finally! Where were you?” Fermín asks us when we walk into his house. Or shouts, because the music is so loud and there are so many people…

“There was traffic” Pedri says.

“What? I left after you did and the roads were the same as always after a game” Gavi says, joining us.

“And you left before Ferran, and he already is here” Fermín adds.

“Is he? We should probably go say hello to him, you know how he gets if we…”

“You are not going anywhere until you tell us where you were” Fermín says, stopping Pedri.

“We… umm…”

“We had to wait until Carlos had checked the party and made sure it was safe for me” I say.

“What?” both Gavi and Fermín say, looking my way.

“It's the usual procedure” I shrug. The usual… with my sister. With me things are more chill. “He says thank you for making it a party with no phones, by the way. It makes his life easier.” Which isn't a lie.

“I… umm… you're welcome?” 

“Anyway, why don't we get ourselves a drink? What do you want, Sofía?” Pedri asks me, trying to escape from his friends. 

He's been worried about them not behaving properly in front of me since the day I confirmed I would be attending the party. When I've met them on their own it's been fine, they all are really nice guys. And Fermín actually got a bit teary when I gave him his birthday present earlier after the game, which was really cute.

But Pedri fears that once they all are together and have drank a bit, they may get too cocky and say something they shouldn't in front of me. But not because he is hiding things from me or anything like that. Our phone conversations are so long that by now we basically know everything about the other when it comes to boys, girls, relationships, crushes and hook ups. He worries more about… embarrassing things and stories. 

“Look who is finally here!” Ferran says behind us, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and the other around Pedri's. “What took you so long?”

“Sofía’s bodyguard had to check if the house was safe” Gavi says.

“What?” Ferran laughs. “Did you seriously believe that?”

“It is the truth.”

“And I'm blonde, Pedri” Ferran laughs again. “Guys, haven't you looked at them?”

“What do you mean?” Gavi asks with a confused look.

“Swollen lips, the neck of Pedri's t-shirt is a bit crooked, Sofía isn't wearing lipstick and she was when we met them at the stadium… These two were late because they were making out in his car. Maybe doing more than that” Ferran smirks.

“No!” Fermin gasps, his eyes going wide. “You guys are late to my birthday party because you were too busy fucking?”

“Language, bro!” Gavi says, elbowing him and nodding towards me.

“You can swear in front of me, Gavi. It's ok. You should hear the things I say sometimes” I chuckle. “And we weren't fucking. We just had a quick make out session because my boyfriend here scored an amazing goal and we had to celebrate” I smile, looking at Pedri. “Besides, sex in his car isn't too comfortable.”

“Sofía!” Pedri gasps. Now he is the one whose eyes are about to pop from their sockets, his cheeks turning bright red.

“What? It's the truth, you've said it yourself” I shrug.

“You are lucky he got rid of the Mini before he met you” Ferran laughs. “Because if you find this car uncomfortable…”

“And I'm lucky I already got my driver's license and I don't need Pedri taking me everywhere” Gavi says.” Having to go training with him every day in that car knowing that you two have… you know…”

“Can we please talk about something else? Like, we are here to celebrate Fermín getting older, not to discuss details about my personal life” Pedri says, letting go of my hand and crossing his arms over his chest. He looks so pissed… 

“Exactly!” Fermín says. “Let's go get us some shots to celebrate. Follow me.”

“Pedri…” I say as the others start walking away. But he doesn't hear me… or doesn't want to. And I'm pretty sure he dodged my hand when I tried to touch his arm. “Great” I sigh before following him.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“To the birthday boy!” Ferran says once we all have our tiny glasses.

“To me!” Fermín smiles. 

“Pedri, where are you going?” I ask him when he finishes his shot and gives Gavi his glass, walking away and completely ignoring me. Again.

“Oh… trouble in paradise…” Fermín chuckles. “Ouch! Why did you hit me, bro?”

“Do you seriously have to ask?” Ferran says, nodding towards me.

“Oh, umm… Sorry, Sofía.”

“It's ok. I'm… I'm gonna go talk with him. Take this” I say, giving my glass to Ferran.

“Sofía, do you want me to go with you?” he offers.

“This is my mess, Ferran. But thank you” I smile before leaving him and the others and starting to look for Pedri among all the guests. How can Fermín know so many people?

“Hey, I know you!” a boy says, stopping me when I make it to the garden. 

“I don't think so.”

“Of course I do! You are the hot princess!”

“The what?”

“Yeah… Bro, what is the name of the princess?” 

“Leonor?” one of his friends says, not even bothering to look at me.

“Nah, not the one with an old lady name. The other one, the hot one!”

“Oh, Sofía.”

“Yes, Sofía! You are her, aren't you?” he smiles.

I am the hot princess? What? Since when?

“I'm afraid you are mistaken me with her. Besides, what would she be doing at a party like this?” I chuckle.

“Yeah, you are probably right… You still are really hot, tho” he smirks.

“Thank you. But now if you'll excuse me, I need to go find my boyfriend” I say, giving him my best fake smile, the one I usually use at boring events. 

“Burn!” his friend laughs, some other people around us joining him. 

“Boyfriends can break up, you know?” he says, ignoring them.

“I know” I sigh. Mine may be thinking about that right now. “Anyway, it was nice meeting you. And thank you for the compliment.”

“You're welcome. And princess or not, you know where to find me!” he says as I walk away.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Ferran… Fer… Ferran” I say, tapping on his shoulder. “Ferran!”

“Shit!” he says, turning around. “Sofía?”

“Hi, yes. Sorry for interrupting” I smile at the girl he was making out with. “But I can't find him.”

“What?”

“I can't find… you know” I whisper, not saying Pedri's name just in case the girl has recognised me. “I've looked everywhere and I can't find him. And I don't want to call Carlos and ask him if he has seen him leave, because I know the look he will give me, and I can't deal with my bodyguard telling me I told you right now.”

“You have a bodyguard?” the girl asks.

“That's how she calls her older brother” Ferran quickly says. “But are you sure you have looked everywhere for him?”

“Yes” I nod. “I fucked up, Ferran. He got mad and now he has left me and…”

“Sofía, hey, no. We are gonna find him and you will fix things.”

“I hope so. Because I… I… you know.” I love him.

“I know” he says. “He does too.”

He… what?

“Do you mind if I go help my friend find her boyfriend? They had a little argument and… you know. But I'll come back and I will make it up to you. I promise” Ferran says to the girl with a smile that could make anyone fall at his feet. 

“Ok” the girl says before whispering something in his ear. “Don't take too long.”

“I won't, I promise. Let's go, Sofía” he says, taking my hand and basically dragging me behind him.

“What did she tell you?” 

“Oh, you don't want to know, Sofía. You don't want to know…”

“Ferran, I may be a princess, but I'm not a delicate flower like the ones you read about in fairytales.”

“That's what I've gathered after some things Pedri has told me” he says as he suddenly stops, making me almost crash into his back before he starts walking again, leading us upstairs. “But I am a gentleman, Sofía. What she said will stay between her and I.”

“Sure” I snort.

“Ok, fine. I may tell the boys some details about it. And… this way” he says as we go up another set of stairs.

“Ferran, where are we going?”

“I assume you checked all the rooms on that floor while looking for Pedri.”

“I did, yes. And saw things I didn't want to see.”

“Been there” he chuckles. “Did you come to this floor too?” 

“I did. But all the rooms were empty.”

“Did you go into the attic?”

“There is an attic?”

“There is” he says, opening a door I hadn't seen earlier since it has no handle. It is one of those kind of hidden on the wall, one you have to push to open. “Fermín basically uses it as a storage room, but it has a balcony with amazing views and Pedri has always loved it. So if he hasn't left the party yet, he's up there.”

“Aren't you coming with me?”

“It is an attic but there are no spiders if that's what you are afraid of. Pedri would never go there if that was the case” he chuckles. “And this is something you need to do on your own, Sofía.”

“I guess, yes” I sigh.

“Good luck” Ferran says, giving my hand an encouraging squeeze.

“Thank you” I smile. “And good luck to you too. Though I think you won't be needing it with that girl.”

“We'll see” he says before walking away.

“Ok, Sofía. You can do this” I say, taking a deep breath and going up the stairs.

Like Ferran said, the attic basically is a big storage room, boxes of gym machines, shoes and random bits and bobs scattered everywhere. At the end of it there is a big glass door that lets in enough light to illuminate the room without having to turn it on, and that door is currently open, letting the music and the voices from the party come in.

As I get closer to it, I can see someone sitting on the floor, his legs hanging between the bars of the balcony's railing. 

“Pedri?” I call.

“Bloody hell!” he screams, hitting his legs as he tries to get up.

“Sorry, I'm sorry. Are you alright?”

“I may wake up with a huge bruise on my knee tomorrow, but I'm fine” he says, massaging his leg. “What are you doing here, Sofía?”

“I… I was looking for you.”

“To embarrass me a bit more in front of my friends?”

“What? No! I just… I… I'm sorry.”

“I was looking forward to this party, you know?" he says after a few seconds in silence. "Actually, we both were. We had agreed on wanting to spend some time with the boys and have fun like any people our age would do, relax a bit before the end of the season and before we can go on holidays just the two of us. And as you also know, my only worry was that the boys could start behaving like idiots and saying things that they shouldn't, embarrassing me in front of you. I've spent the whole week telling them to behave, that if they actually were my friends, they would do it for me. Little did I know, that it would be you the one embarrassing me in front of them.”

“C'mon, Pedri. It was just a little bit of banter between friends.”

“Banter that made me uncomfortable, Sofía” he says, standing up. “You know how much they've been teasing me about you and our relationship since we started seeing each other. And you also know that even if they aren't doing it to be mean, it bothers me. Because I may be a worldwide known football player, but you are Spain's fucking princess. Yes, the second in line, but still a princess. And sometimes I can't help but feel… I don't know. Small next to you.”

“Pedri…”

“I know what you are going to say. That I'm not small. At least not in the way I'm thinking” he chuckles, his smile quickly disappearing. “But just as you struggle with feeling like your whole life you've been invisible to everyone despite me telling you that that's not true, I struggle with this. With sometimes feeling like I'm… not enough for you. And those insecurities came back earlier when we were with the boys. Because you are comfortable and confident enough to openly talk about such personal things with anyone, but I'm not. One thing is doing it between us, in private, and another with and in front of my friends. Like, it takes ages for Ferran to get something out of me and I know I can trust him with my life!” Pedri says, running a hand through his hair. “And I thought you knew that and understood it, Sofía. So when I saw you talking about it with them… Well. It hurt.”

“I'm sorry, Pedri. I truly truly am. Because I do know you feel that way and I understand it. I do, I swear. I should have known better and just shut up. But I didn't and I kept talking because I'm an idiot. I am a fucking idiot” I say, kicking an empty shoe box. “And I'm not trying to excuse myself but I just… I don't know. I guess I was just too excited because we were doing something normal with your friends. And then you have to add the game and your goal, the make out session in the car and… I don't know. It's like I was drunk in happiness and I got carried away and… I'm sorry.”

“Yeah” he whispers, neither of us saying another word for what feels like an eternity.

“I guess I should go back home” I finally say. “Carlos will probably be glad when he sees me. You know he didn't agree with any of this. With us.”

“Wait, what?”

“He didn't like the idea of us coming to a party with so many people, and he's never liked the idea of us together. He's started to get used to it, but since that misunderstanding when we met, I know he has never fully trusted you. So I guess he'll be happy knowing that it is over.”

“Over? What are you talking about, Sofía?”

“We have broken up, haven't we?”

“What?” Pedri laughs.

“Isn't that what just happened?”

“Of course not!” he laughs again.

“Then… umm…”

“Sofía, we haven't broken up” he says, taking my hands on his. “This has just been our first real and proper fight as a couple.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah.”

“Just that?”

“Just that” he chuckles.

“Then you aren't… I mean… Are you…”

“I'm a bit pissed and also disappointed, but that doesn't mean I want to break up with you. It only means we need to keep working on our relationship. Keep talking and telling each other how we feel, what we think, what worries us.”

“Oh... I see.”

“So clever and bold with some things, and so naïve when it comes to others, Sofía…” he says with a teasing smile.

“Could say the same about you, Pedro.”

“You could, yes” he laughs. “Looks like we are made for each other.”

“Yeah” I say with a shy smile. Here I am once again, feeling my face getting warmer by the second just because he has said or done something cute. “There was something Ferran told me before he helped me find you…”

“He helped you find me?”

“He did. I had been looking for you everywhere and couldn't find you, started to freak out, and had to interrupt him while he had his tongue down a girl's throat.”

“Wow” Pedri laughs. “Did she at least take it well?”

“She did. And if she had doubts, the smile he gave her sent them all away.”

“Oh, I know that smile. It is a dangerous one that has broken many hearts. But what did he tell you?”

“He… I mean… I implied something, and he said that so did you.”

“What?”

“I… Ok” I say, taking a deep breath. “I basically told him that I love you but without using those words, and he said that you…”

“I love you too, Sofía” Pedri smiles.

“You… You do?”

“I do” he nods. 

“That's… umm… ok” I say with a nervous laugh.

“Too many emotions in a short period of time, uh?” he says, moving one hand to cup my face, his thumb caressing my cheek. A cheek that is obviously burning.

“Definitely. I've gone from thinking we were breaking up to telling you I love you for the first time and you saying it back in what, five minutes?”

“Something like that.”

“Fermín said that his birthday party was going to be an unforgettable one, and he wasn't wrong. He probably had something different in mind, but… Did I tell you that some random guy recognised me? I obviously told him he was mistaken, that what would Princess Sofía be doing here. But he said that I was the hot sister. Me! And he also said that Leonor has an old lady name, which is pretty funny and…”

“And you are rambling, Sofía.”

“Am I?”

“Yep. And even though that guy was right when he told you that you are the hot princess, proving once again what I always tell you about being invisible… You, my lady, also are rambling” Pedri smiles, the fact that he has used his nickname for me making all my doubts and fears disappear.

“Another thing we have in common, then” I say. “You know, you may be right, and we may be made for each other.”

“We are made for each other” he corrects me. 

“Even if I sometimes I'm an idiot and have a bit of a big mouth?”

“Even so” he chuckles. “I love you, Sofía.”

“I love you too, Pedri” I say before kissing him.

[yuri-is-online]

Episode 9 Thoughts

I actually really liked this episode TᴖT I wasn't expecting much lore or plot building? But this was surprisingly light on filler.

Not Super Spoilery Facts:

Zenji says Romeo comes from "the famous House of Lucci." I made a joke about it, but basing Romeo's family off of the Gucci family actually makes a lot of sense. The Gucci brand is no longer controlled by the Gucci family for a variety of reasons, including financial problems and that murder they recently (?) made a movie about. I think this is really neat and a fantastic idea for his character, there's so much drama you can work with in high fashion and it makes just that much more sense about why he would be mad that he's not in Frostheim. He should be, they're all wearing clothes with his family name on it, but he can't be because he doesn't own the company.

Zenji does watch over Jiro constantly. That's not a super confirmed thing but between his attitude in this Episode and the campus event it's safe to say he probably follows Jiro around as much as he does Haku.

I promise I paid attention to more people than just Zenji (even though the mission never would have succeeded without him, everyone praise best boy NOW). Here let me prove it:

SPOILERS

This is mostly just for me but Romeo's nicknames/his "personal network" he references when calling for help are: Kurossa (Leo), Harry (Haru, wonder if he picked that up from Taiga or Taiga picked it up from him), and Mickey (Rui). I think he probably also considered Kaito one of his "network" because of how much he stalks him but that's just me lol.

Speaking of which lets talk about Kaito for a second. He says he doesn't remember much about the clash "because he was doing his own thing" but the timeline between when Romeo started stalking him and the events of the clash line up perfectly. To me it looks like there are two elements to Romeo's obsession, the first is obviously the pendant but the second... probably still has something to do with the pendant if we are being honest but since everything in the story has to do with the Clash probably that too. There is a piece of blackmail Romeo shows him that Kaito screams about:

My initial thought was that it was a picture of him in his underwear trapped in one of Romi's cages, but we saw that in Episode 4 or something related to his debts and to be fair? That's probably the most likely scenario. Kaito has a gambling problem (call 180-GAMBLING please bby) so there's probably no end to the dirt Romeo has on him. I do wonder if it's a bit more sensitive though but that's just me. Anyway Kaito mentions he never saw Romeo in the Casino until he started chasing him around... which makes me think the likely timeline for Romeo and Taiga's falling out can be placed somewhere around the same time. If they were working together and projecting a united front there would be no need for Romeo to do so much damage control.

That pendant is clearly important, we get a closer look of the insignia on it because Romeo finds a bracelet with the same insignia after he digs up a grave in the cemetery:

To me, this is still not enough detail and I want more but I feel fairly confident in saying this is a Heraldic symbol of some sort. As outlined here the Frostheim ghouls appear to have a sort of chess theme to their names with Kaito being the pawn. In chess pawns can become Queens if it reaches the end of the chess board, which I bring up because the insignia itself, at this point to me, appears to depict an eagle with a crown above it's head. Eagles are symbols of power and the favorite of many real world royal families, as is combining them with crowns to form a royal insignia. I need to do more research before I make concrete claims? But my initial searches have suggested that crowns are only ever used to symbolize royalty or important religious figures, and that eagles are usually double headed. A single headed eagle with a crown has been the symbol of countries like Germany, Austria, and Poland, but this eagle lacks the shield at the center for the first two and the polish eagle actually wears it's crown. I could also be reading waaaaaaay too much into this? But I'd like to think I am being perfectly normal.

Speaking of which we are told in the chapter that the graveyard plays host to "long term foreign residents." The bodies there are not cremated and it is very likely that, assuming Kaito got his pendant from a relative, that Romeo literally dug up and stole from Fuji's great great great grandparent. What a girlboss:

This person has been dead for so long they are only bones, and the only other object in their coffin is the metal bracelet. That's an old ass body, and it doesn't belong to a native Japanese person if we take what Romeo said earlier seriously. This is someone who moved to Japan and maintained enough wealth to be buried with an expensive tombstone. So why no name on the stone and where did they move from?

In less detailed? News Jiro has an extreme reaction to the crying child ghost encountered near the start of the chapter. Specifically he has a reaction to him saying "it hurts." Zenji also reacts to this, he scoops up the boy and takes him away. Later he regrets not attempting to "soothe the boy with a fairy tale." Jiro's memory loss is a side effect "of a certain tragedy that befell him." The timeline of whatever happened to the Kirisaki siblings is vague... but I think it goes something like this:

The brothers make their deal with their demons. They might do this together? Personally I lean towards Zenji doing it first in an effort to do something that will get him and Jiro out of whatever bad situation they are in and Jiro, not wanting to be babied and prove he can take care of himself, does the same thing. The reverse is also possible where Jiro makes his deal and Zenji follows suit because he feels responsible for protecting him, but either way Zenji does or says something he later comes to regret. This causes a rift between the brothers that remains unresolved through the Clash, and makes ghost Zenji reluctant to reveal himself to his brother. I lean towards them being injured around the same time? Either in the same incident or Jiro being injured first and the reason why Zenji was able to stick around. He says he wants to be an illustrious author, but really I think he just wants to make sure Jiro doesn't die. And now he also wants to cure the MC's curse, what a swell fella.

While Jiro clearly doesn't remember Zenji in detail, I don't think his memory is less fried than it first appeared. When MC attempts to get Jiro to go back to the others this happens:

I don't know how this reads in Japanese, but in English it's a really odd sentence. It's a mix up of two common phrases referring to team work: two hearts beating as one + team work makes the dream work. It's a very unique mixed metaphor, and exactly the sort of silly thing Zenji is saying all of the time so if Jiro remembered his brother... he'd probably remember him saying something like that.

... this chapter really did make me scream I'm going to miss Zenji so much.

[captainsophiestark]

Naval Wedding

Natasha "Phoenix" Trace x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Top Gun

Summary: Phoenix needs a fake date to a Naval wedding to avoid sailors hitting on her all night, so who better to ask than her best friend?

Word Count: 2,925

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"I have a favor to ask you."

I sighed dramatically, making a show of pulling my attention from my laptop to my best friend, Natasha "Phoenix" Trace, who sat across the table from me. She held her coffee mug with both hands and stared intently at me. Clearly, whatever she was about to say next had been on her mind for a bit now.

"It's something I need you to help me out with, if you don't mind. And if you're not busy."

I raised an eyebrow, closing my laptop and leaning across the table to match Natasha's posture.

"Okay, spit it out, Nat. You've never danced around something the way you're doing right now the entire time I've known you. What's wrong?"

Nat took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, then met my eyes with a new determination.

"I need you to be my fake date for a Navy wedding next weekend."

Honestly, I wasn't sure what I'd been expecting her to say, but it definitely wasn't that. The corner of my mouth quirked up in a smile, and I had to work to hold back a laugh.

"Nat... first of all, I'm in." Her shoulders immediately relaxed, the dire look on her face morphing into one of relief as she eaased back in her chair. I shook my head, still smiling. "Second, you seriously need to work on your delivery. I thougth you were about to ask me to help you hide a body."

Her eyebrow shot up.

"You thought I prefaced asking you to hide a body with 'if you don't mind' and 'if you're free'?"

I just shrugged and waved her off. "You were crazy grim and looked more stressed than I've ever seen you. I didn't think the favor was gonig to involve a party. Which brings me to third: why? I'm happy to go with you, but I'm a little surprised you're asking."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "You know I work with a lot of men. Most of them are fine. Some of them are great. Some of them I want to punch in the nose sometimes. But at big Navy weddings, there's always tons of pilots I'm not familiar with, and at least a few of them always try to hit on me. This time, I don't want to deal with it. So... fake date."

I grinned. "Natasha Trace. Are you telling me that I get to scare off Naval Aviators all night if they try to hit on my girlfriend?"

Natasha grinned and shook her head with a laugh. I waited until she faced me again, then raised an eyebrow since she still hadn't answered my question.

"Alright, sure. You get to scare off anybody who flirts with me, any way you want to."

"Amazing."

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

The next weekend, I stood in front of the mirror adjusting my outfit nervously while I waited for Natasha to arrive. We were meeting at my house, then driving over together.

When I'd told her I'd be happy to go as her fake date to this wedding, it had been a partial lie. I'd been wrestling with some feelings for my best friend since a few months ago, and I wasn't completely thrilled about the "fake" part of "fake date". When my doorbell finally rang and I opened the door to find Natasha looking like an absolute knockout, my heart did a few backflips before breaking in half as I remembered that she wasn't actually here for a real date.

"Wow," she said, sounding a little breathier than normal as she looked me up and down. "You look great."

"Me? Nat, you look stunning. Like, wow."

Nat looked up and met my eyes with a smile.

"Well, then I guess we make a good pair."

My heart did another flip, so I took a deep breath and stepped through the door to join Nat on the porch before she could give me a heart attack.

"Those Navy boys won't know what hit 'em," I declared, holding my arm out for Nat. She took it with a grin, and we headed for the car arm in arm. My heart skipped a couple beats at the proximity, and I did my best to tell it to shut up.

It mostly listened throughout the wedding ceremony. When we got to the venue, we got some looks and some raised eyebrows, especially from Natasha's closest Navy friends, who she apparently hadn't told about her plan. I got to ditch Hangman to cross the room and chase off a more tangentally-invited pilot who'd been hitting on Nat, which had been a highlight of the night so far, especially as she leaned into my side and I wrapped an arm around her. Unfortunately, we didn't get to linger, since we had to take our seats for the wedding itself.

It was beautiful, and thankfully, didn't stretch on too long. Before I knew it, we were heading to the reception, throwing a few of Nat's aviator friends in the back of the car to get to the venue hosting the reception. We blasted music, laughed, and I even got up the courage to reach out and take Nat's hand while she drove. She turned to me with a grin and squeezed my hand back, and I tried not to let my imagination run away from me about whether that might mean something.

We pulled into the venue, and Natasha immediately took my hand in hers. I bumped my shoulder into hers, and we shared a grin as we flowed through the doors with the rest of the wedding guests. The music was already blasting, and people were floating around and snacking while we waited for the bride and groom to arrive with the rest of the wedding party. Nat's friends went ahead of us as she stopped, turning to me with a smile.

"Alright, what's first? Food or drinks?"

"Hmm... I know the guests of honor aren't here yet, but what about dance floor?"

She laughed. "Okay, drinks it is. If you actually want to pull me out there, I'm going to need more than just water in my veins."

"I don't think the alcohol actually goes into your veins-"

"You know what I mean! Come on, I'll get you your favorite. On me."

"Isn't it an open bar?"

"And isn't it the thought that counts?"

I laughed, letting Natasha pull me along and through the crowd, trailing after her with a happy smile. When she came to a stop at the bar, tugging me up to stand next to her, I had to fight very hard against the urge to lean in and kiss her, then and there. I swallowed, but managed to get a hold of myself and respond to her instead.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's the thought that counts."

Nat and I ate the snacks and chatted with her close friends while we waited for the couple to arrive, and then for the party to really start. Dinner was delicious, the toasts were sweet, and not long after the last one finished, the dance floor officially opened for business.

I turned to Nat, intending to make good on my answer of what I first wanted to do when we got here, but I found her facing in the other direction as some guy in a suit smiled down at her, one of his hands resting on the back of her chair. I narrowed my eyes.

He didn't notice me, he was too focused on Nat. I knew she was more than capable of telling him to get lost on her own, but I also knew that the main reason she'd asked me to be her date at all tonight was to avoid dealing with clowns like these. I stood and walked around to stand next to him, pushing my way into the spot between him and the table and holding a hand out to Nat.

"Hey, babe," I said, smiling at Nat without sparing a glance for the guy. "You ready to hit the dancefloor?"

She grinned back at me in sync with the guy beside me saying "Babe?" as a clear question directed at me. I turned to face him like I had all the time in the world, keeping a straight face as I met his eyes.

"Yeah. That's generally what I call my girlfriend. You got a comment about that?"

The guy blanched, taking a half step back and removing his arm from the back of Natasha's chair.

"Uh... no. Sorry."

"Don't apologize to me, she's the one who had to put up with some random guy trying to put moves on her."

The guy scowled, but he muttered a quick apology to Natasha all the same before heading off into the crowd again. I watched him go, then turned to Nat with the massive grin I'd been holding back the whole time.

She shook her head, mirroring my grin all the same.

"You have way too much fun doing that."

I shrugged. "Maybe. But you don't have any fun doing it for yourself, so this seems like by far the best option."

"I guess I can't argue with you there."

"You're right, you can't. Now come on, I want to dance with my girlfriend. Let's get out there."

My heart hammered in my chest at my own words, worried that I'd overstepped, even in the context of a group in public for our fake-date situation. But Natasha just smiled at me again, softer this time, and took my hand.

"Fine. I guess I'm tipsy enough for this. Barely."

I laughed, pulling her out onto the dancefloor behind me. Tipsy or not, I usually enjoyed making a fool of myself on the dancefloor, and it turned out to be even better with Nat's hand in mine, the two of us spinning in and out of each other's arms.

The rest of the wedding party disappeared as we lost ourselves in the music, just the two of us, breathing hard between laughs and holding each other tightly. Eventually, the music wound down from the high-energy stuff we'd been listening to, shifting to something made for slow dancing. We stuttered to a stop on the floor as couples flocked in all around us, and I looked at Nat.

She shrugged, stepping closer to me and putting her hands on my waist.

"We're supposed to be a couple too, right?"

I grinned back at her. "Damn right."

I laid my arms across Nat's shoulders and the two of us swayed back and forth on the dancefloor, the low lights sweeping over us as we moved. I couldn't take my eyes off of her, and the corner of her mouth lifted up like she'd noticed. Slowly, she leaned in, and my heart just about stopped in my chest. She rested her forehead against mine, and I sighed, half content to stay here like this with her as long as she wanted, half disappointed she hadn't been going in for a kiss.

When the music of the slow dance faded, we just stayed where we were for a long moment before finally pulling away from each other. I opened my mouth to say something, although I wasn't totally sure what yet, but before either of us got the chance to speak the music picked up again, and her closer aviator friends swarmed us on the dancefloor.

"I can't believe you got Phoenix out to dance!" called Fanboy, grinning as he threw one arm over her shoulder, jumping up and down to the beat. Natasha tried to duck his arm, presumably to ditch the dancefloor, but Fanboy knew her well enough that he managed to stop her. I gave them a half-hearted smile, then took the opportunity myself to slip away from the crowd.

I knew Nat probably would've wanted me making up a girlfriend excuse to get her out of there. Normally I would've helped her, but that moment on the dancefloor before her friends showed up had felt so real, and I needed to take a moment to remind myself that it wasn't.

I ducked and weaved through the crowd with relative ease, since only Nat's close friends would've recognized me and they were all out on the dancefloor. I made my way to the bar, not even ordering, just leaning against it for a second. Enough other people hovered around that it'd be hard to spot me amongst the crowd, but I could still see Nat out on the dancefloor, laughing and smiling even as she shook her head and tried to tell her friends to get lost.

I was in love with her. Her attitude, confidence, strength, wit. The way she smiled at me when I said something funny or called Hangman "Bagman" even though I barely knew him and had no reason (other than loyalty to Nat) to use the nickname. I was in love with her, and I had been for a long time, but after tonight, I wasn't going to be able to ignore it anymore. This night had been a mistake.

"Hey! You want a drink?"

I reluctantly turned to face the person shouting in my ear only to find Rooster, one of Natasha's best friends, leaning over to talk to me, his shirt unbuttoned and his tie around his head.

"Uh... that's okay," I said. "I think I'm good."

"You sure? You made me a lot of money tonight!"

I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow at him, but he was drunk enough that he didn't get the hint. He turned and quickly snagged two bottles of beer from the bartender, who had to explain to Rooster that it was an open bar and he didn't need to pay, before Rooster finally turned back to me with a grin.

"Want one of these?"

"No," I said, gently pushing aside the bottle he offered me as I took a step forward. "Rooster, what do you mean I made you a lot of money tonight?"

"Technically you and Phoenix! Everybody kept betting that you guys weren't going to figure out your shit for another month at least, but I had faith-"

"Bradley, what the hell are you talking about?"

"You guys!" he said, motioning emphatically with the beers in his hands between me and the dancefloor, where Nat had been cajoled into enjoying at least one song. "Finally getting together! After hearing her wax poetic about how great you are since the day you guys met, we started taking bets on when she'd finally do something about it. And I won! So, thanks!"

"Hold on..." I reached out, taking Rooster's arm to steady myself. The room had started spinning around me, and it had nothing to do with alcohol. "Roos, what are you saying? What do you mean, Nat's been talking about me since the day we met?"

"Ah, I probably shouldn't have told you," he said, shaking his head and at last lowering his voice to normal volume, although it was still far from a whisper. "But it's probably fine now, since you're dating. God, she used to drive us all crazy talking about how great you were and how much of a thing she had for you. It's probably gonna get worse now though, since you guys finally admitted you were pining after each other- Hey, where are you going?"

I ignored Rooster as I headed back to the dance floor, a buzzing in my brain as his words echoed. He was clearly drunk, but if anything, that made me more confident that what he'd told me was the truth. The whole time I'd been driving myself crazy trying not to admit feelings for one of my best friends, she'd been doing the same thing.

Before I knew it, I stood in front of Natasha again. The music still thumped, people laughing and jumping and twirling all around us, but I barely noticed. Nat stood to one side of Fanboy, with Bob on his other side, the two of them holding him up as he attempted to drag them both into a dance, so it took Nat a minute to notice me. But once she did, she straightened up.

"Hey, are you okay?"

I nodded, taking a step closer to her.

"Rooster spilled his guts. You like me. For real."

Shock registered on her face, then straight rage as she whipped her head around to look for Rooster. I just grinned, pushing Fanboy's arm off her as I closed the rest of the distance between us.

"Nat. I like you, too. For real."

She whipped her head back around so quickly that she almost broke my nose. Her wide eyes searched mine, one eyebrow raised.

"Are you kidding?"

"Hell no I'm not kidding. Nat... can I kiss you?"

She grinned, any trace of trepidation or irritation melting away all at once.

"Hell yeah you can."

I grinned back, letting my hand come up to the back of her neck as I leaned in and finally, finally kissed Natasha. She wrapped an arm tightly around my waist, pulling me closer to her as we deepened the kiss. Some cheers and whoops from her friends snapped us both out of it enough to finally pull away, both of us smiling delirious-looking smiles.

"I'm so glad you asked me to be your date to this, Nat," I breathed, letting my arms fall to rest on her shoulders. Her hands came onto my waist, her smile turning into more of a grin.

"Me too. Although, I am looking forward to an opportunity for a real date, without my idiot friends in range or any other people trying to hit on me."

"Sounds great. How about... tomorrow night?"

Nat threw her head back and laughed, but when she met my eyes again and saw me looking as serious as ever, she grinned again.

"Alright. Tomorrow night it is."

"I can't wait."

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

Top Gun Taglist: @elenavampire21

[theblue6ook]

"A Sick Day" PT 2

Bruce invites a sick Y/N to stay at his home.

B (24) & Y/N (22)

A/N: I'm back... (let's be honest this one is not my best work, but we have better coming up)

The worst part of her illness wasn’t the migraine pounding in the back of her eyes, her high fever, or even the soreness in her throat. No. It was having to face Alfred after he’d heard about the condition of her sickness.

“I don’t know what’s worse. That Bruce, for the first time in his life, insisted on leaving the house, and in a blizzard - or him leaving to find you, on the verge of death, walking in it!” he bellowed at her. “Out of all the irresponsible-”

Y/N had been quiet since Bruce forced her into the car heading toward Wayne Manor. Alfred had even delightedly greeted her, not expecting the visit... that was until Bruce explained the circumstances. Y/N felt like branding him a tattle tale. The minute they walk in and he’s going on to Alfred, guess who walked to Wayne Enterprises today? She could’ve killed him. 

So now, she sits in an armchair by the fireplace in the main living area. Alfred made sure to cozy her up with a blanket and a cup of something warm and delicious before digging into her about being "irresponsible," as he said. As he dug further, Y/N felt her eyes drooping. Her body began to tingle delightfully. Down her sides, into her fingertips, all the way down to her toes. It was like all the stress from her day-to-day life, her illness, her radiator, was slithering out of her. She sank deeper into the chair, and as Bruce brought her bags in, he looked toward her sleeping form.

"Alfred," he said quietly.

"I'll get to you later," he snipped toward Bruce.

"Alfred," he said firmly, moving his head toward Y/N, and the old man turned toward her.

Alfred sighed deeply and pulled her blanket closer to her chin, taking the drink out of her still hand. He spoke mostly to himself, "What am I going to do with you two?"

“I’ll take her upstairs.” Bruce started to walk toward her until Alfred stopped him. 

“We shouldn’t wake her,” Alfred whispered, but Bruce looked weary. “She needs to rest and I don’t want to risk her waking up again.”

So they left her, in no doubt a medicated sleep in the cozy arms of the recliner by the crackling fireplace.

-

It was dark the next time Y/N stirred. Slowly she opened and rubbed her crusted eyes, her sign of a deep, unbothered sleep. For no longer than a second, she had no idea where she was. That was until her eyes drifted to the large family portrait hanging on the wall.

Leaning upwards in her chair she noticed her drink had long gone cold, now sitting on the table next to her, and the recliner she had been resting in had been leaned back to lift her aching feet. The fire was out, but it was still so warm in the living room. That might have had something to do with the fact that she was swaddled in two blankets. What time was it? Had she slept all day?

Unwrapping herself from the burrito of blankets, she stood on shaking legs. With a crack of her back, she moved toward what she thought she remembered to be the kitchen.

Y/N pushed through a set of dark oat doors and felt her socks slide against the checkered tile. Widening her blurry eyes, she looked toward the microwave clock, and there was no mistaking the time glowing off the stainless steel.

3 a.m.

So, that has to be incorrect. There was just no fathomable way she had fallen asleep this morning, slept all day, and then some. This had to be some stupid joke played by Bruce. It had to be. Grabbing her phone out of her sweatshirt pocket, she lit the screen with a click.

3 a.m.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She threw her hands against her face groaning. Snow or not, sick or not, she was not the type to skip out on work and though it was her boss's fault she couldn't help but feel the impending doom for when she did have to play catch up. Maybe I can just get a head start tonight? I slept all day anyway.

Looking around the kitchen, Y/N realized she didn't even know where her work bag was, let alone any of her things. She didn't have a chance of finding it in the manor, especially when she's not used to so much space. Honestly, the least Bruce could have done was wake her up to take her to an actual bedroom, or even show her around the manor so she wouldn't get lost... but if he did wake her, she would have surely started working anyway and Bruce knew this. Hence her current predicament.

But she wasn't alone for long. The heat had kicked on, which definitely masked a general nighttime sound, but there was something off about the silence. She swore she almost heard a metallic clicking, like a heavy door, and then shuffling behind her, but when she turned, there was nothing. Just the glow of the microwave clock shining in the darkness.

"What are you doing?"

"HOLY SHIT!"

Turning, she noticed that standing in front of her was a very shirtless, very sweaty Bruce Wayne. The kitchen glow shined off his damp chest, and she felt like she couldn't breathe. This is so inappropriate, she kept thinking, yet her eyes continued moving downward-

He cleared his throat, grinning.

She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding in, "Don't you fucking scare me like that. What are you even doing up?"

"I was just at the gym."

Bewilderment struck her face, "It's 3 o'clock in the morning."

Bruce ignored her, opting to throw the back of his hand against her forehead with his brows furrowed. "Your fever is down, but you're still warm and a little flushed."

It wasn't the fever that warmed her cheeks. He was too close to her and too shirtless. She had never given too much thought to her boss's physique, but she's pretty sure spoiled billionaires aren't typically cut like he is. She stepped back quickly, looking toward the ceiling. 

"Okay, that's enough. I should probably get back to bed anyway.” Backing away toward the double doors, she paused, realizing she had no idea where ‘bed’ was. Bruce walked past her, his back was as impressive as his front.

With a grin, he opened the double doors and nodded his head in the direction of the living room. “Come on. I’ll show you where to go.”

@pank0w @moejoeflow @padsfirewhisky @maxinehufflepuffprincess @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t @mariadvorak @100520s @st0rmyt @stxrsberkshire

[dullgecko]

omfg you can't stop there with the neck-touching story, i'm so invested. the aftermath, i beg of you. did riz isolate himself/hide from his friends in shame after the fact? how did fabian react? did he blame riz? blame himself? were the bad kids able to coax riz back into the party after his self-imposed isolation?

Fabian had been completely blindsided by the sudden attack. Not literally, thank Cas, Rizs hands were small enough that he'd only torn up the half elfs cheek with his claws before stopping. As it was Fabian had felt him hit bone and had flinched away to cradle the sudden ragged hole in his cheek while the rogue hissed and put distance between them.

He felt Kristen's magic cut through the white hot pain after only a second. Flesh knitting back together in an instant and leaving no trace of the attack save for the heat on his skin and the blood in his mouth. He spat what was remaining onto the ground to join the pool of blood that had spilled there, turning his head when Kristen touched his face to let her check she hadn't missed anything.

"What the fuck The Ball. Claws are taking it a little far don't you think?" The half elf pushed himself to sit upright rather than remaining in his hunched position. His brief spike of anger at the attack fading when he noticed their rogue was gone.

"The Ball? Did anyone see where he went?"

There had been a quick search, each of them splitting up to go check his usual hiding spots in the house before reconvening in the living room. Adaine crouching to clean the blood off the carpet while Fig pulled out her crystal to see if they could find any clues.

She'd been recording while Fabian and Riz tousled on the floor, her cystal propped up on a side table as the teifling cheering Riz on. Whooping when he 'pinned' Fabian to the ground and settled into a cross legged position on his chest in victory. He had clearly been having fun, ears high and alert and tail flicking in a way they knew meant 'happy' as he mock clawed at Fabians face. He had his fingers curled in such a way that he was only batting their fighter in the face with his knuckles though so Fig was confused as to how Riz had clawed the half elf.

It had all happened so quickly that she'd assumed that Riz clawed him first THEN Fabian pinned him to the floor. The video showed otherwise though. Their rogue laughing even as their positions were flipped RIGHT up until the point Fabians completed the pin with his hand around the goblins throat.

The flip from smiling to terror had been almost instant, the video clear enough that they could see his pupils contract to slits even as he full force raked his claws across Fabians face. The goblin scrambling out of the cameras field of view when he was released. Thankfully they had still been recording even as everyone lept to check on Fabian where he was groaning on the floor. They could very audibly hear the front door slamming shut while Kristen was healing Fabian in the footage.

"Fuck dude did you kneel on his tail or something? I think you really hurt him."

Fabian shook his head, eye going wide as he watched the footage over Figs shoulder. A yawning pit of guilt opening in his stomach as she rewound it a few time to watch again and try and work out why Riz had flipped out. If he was hurt they needed to help him but he tended to hide injuries up until the point he couldn't function and they forced help on him.

"We need to go find him."

---------

Riz was in such a panic that he didn't have a plan beyond 'put distance between me and everyone else as fast as possible'. The door slammed shut behind him and he briefly contemplated booking it down the driveway but The Hangman was chasing pigeons about halfway down and Riz had just attacked its master.

He went right instead, rounding the side of the house to cut through the cemetery and find somewhere to hide. He'd never done something like this before and he was terrified. Both of himself because he couldn't remember the attack AND of the consequences.

Sure he'd nipped and scratched his friends before but he very rarely drew blood, and even then it was only usually a pinprick. He obviously hadn't held back this time, the evidence drying on his claws and face from where it had dripped on him before he scrambled free.

What would they think of him now? That he was as dangerous and violent as what people always said goblins were? Would they deal with him the same way they usually dealt with people that attacked them? He'd fled the house completely unarmed and he didnt even grab his briefcase before leaving. Hell, without his sword he didn't even have an advantage when hiding right now.

Riz stopped in the middle of the cemetery, crouching behind a large headstone just off the path so he could hide and collect his thoughts. The goblin whining as he tried to wipe the blood off his hand onto the grass but found that the vast majority of it had dried and wasn't coming free.

He realised he hadn't picked the best hiding spot but he couldn't muster the energy to care. Riz curling into a smaller ball and pressing his face against his knees, arms and tail alike looping around his ankles as he tried very hard to pretend he didn't exist anymore. So what if they found him, maybe he deserved whatever punishment they saw fit.

---------------

Riz wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting outside whe he heard the first footsteps approaching. He'd let himself retreat fully into his own mind as he tried to work out what exactly had happened and kept coming up empty. The rogue didn't even move when his crystal started ringing in his pocket, Fabian obviously trying to call him since he was the only person not set to mute.

Riz shifted to cover his head with his arms when the footsteps rapidly got closer, hoping to at least protect what he could if they were mad even if he didn't make an effort to run. The last time he clawed someone like this was in middle school and he'd spent weeks hiding the broken ribs from his mom after the kids friends had gotten their shots in.

"I've found him." He heard Fabian shout, though the sound was muffled with his arms shielding his head. The goblin whining and trying to curl up more when he felt hands gently try to pry his arms away.

"Riz? Fuck. Are you okay? I'm sorry. Hey..."

Riz relaxed slightly when the expected blows didn't come, letting the fighter untangle his arms and gently inspect his hand because it was still covered in dry blood. He did yank his tail away from his hand when he tried to inspect it as well though, tucking it up behind himself out of grabbing range and hissing into his own knees.

"Can you look at me? Are you hurt?"

Fabian still had a grip on both of his hands, thumbs pressing into his palms as he kneaded at the soft tissue there. Riz let him continue for a few more seconds before withdrawing his hands from his grip and wrapping them around his chest. Lifting his head to peek at the fighters concerned face which he was relieved was all in one piece.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what happened." Riz said quietly, dipping his ears back in show of contrition.

"What happened was you clawed the shit out of me." Fabian scoffed, reaching forwards to coax Riz to sit up further so he could see his face properly, the half-elf licking his thumb to try and get some of the dried blood off the goblins cheek. The act making Riz screw his face up in a way that made Fabian laugh. "I think it was my fault though. I apologise."

"What? No I attacked you I'm-" He froze, claws digging into his vest as the half elfs hand hovered close to his throat. Fabian making a face as if he'd just made a point before withdrawing carefully.

"No I'm quite sure it was my fault." Fabian shifted to sit next to the rogue instead, bringing a knee up to rest his arm on as he looked out over the cemetary. "Fig was filming and I can tell when someone gets triggered. My father used to get the same way sometimes... Do you think you're up to coming back inside?"

Riz shook his head, leaning forwards to hide his face against his knees again and sighing loudly. Leaning against Fabians side when his friend draped his arm over him and pulled him in to sit a little closer.

"Alright. I'll stay out here with you for a while then."

[agerefandomstuff]

little soldier boy???

I think he'd be small but also have bigger ages? But if you could write about him being a small guy it be much appreciated!

Soldier Baby - Is it Him or the Drugs?

Content warning: not kids’ appropriate media. and has not been censored to be even though it involves sfw age regression.

(if you’ve watched The Boys you have an idea of what to expect from the characters’ vocab and personalities.)

Word count: 3175

Tags/warnings: Regressor Soldier Boy - Ben, Caregiver Billy Butcher, Hughie Campbell, poor hughie’s always bullied, Soldier Boy and Butcher accurate cursing and sexual jokes, general vulgarity, Ben being borderline racist/sexist/homophobic/ OUTDATED THINKING except I didn’t actually wanna make it as bad as he actually can be and I also don’t know how to be, anxiety, mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of violence, threats, insults, French fries dipped in frosties, if that’s something that disturbs you idk, my American attempt at writing a British man played by a Kiwi man, first time regressing, confusion, panic, misunderstanding, I don’t know, Ben commenting bad things about The Little Mermaid, Butcher being dumb, Butcher taking charge and being a dad, not beta read. Never beta read. I don’t know who I would be if it was beta read.

Perhaps it was because he had taken too much. Or more likely Butcher gave him something laced since his body filtered out most drugs within minutes and he'd been feeling this way since he’d started yawning a couple hours earlier. His yawns started while watching dumb new century movies, one moment he was bitching to Hughie about how his generation relied too heavily on special effects instead of getting creative (like back in his day) the next he was getting asked when the last time he slept was. As if he was some toddler and not a grown fucking man who can occasionally yawn if he wants to damn it! Hughie might’ve been his “babysitter,” as Butcher titled it, when they were alone but he wasn’t a fuckin child for him to fuss over like some sniveling house wife.

“I’ve stayed awake for over a month before partying, kicking ass, and slinging pussy all while doing my damn job as a hero. Then I was asleep for decades because of Russian scum. This is nothing.” He growled at Hughie, the poor boy shaking like one of those fuckin rat dogs he use to see rich women carrying around at those mind numbing Vought galas. “I am not tired. And you'd be wise to stop assuming I was.”

Although if Hughie hadn't said something about it he probably would've put more thought into it. because… beyond just yawning he was feeling… uncharacteristically spacey, even though he really hadn't been awake long enough to excuse that. He hadn't been here for more than a week, right? Doesn't matter now. He was stubborn and would purposely not give it any more thought because Hughie was a cunt.

...that was until his eighth yawn of the day. It was like he was yawning all the time. He couldn't stop himself and at this point he wasn't even watching the movie let alone making his usual commentary. His mind was just focusing on fighting the yawns and the odd feeling in his mind. He couldn't remember a time he felt so unfocused like this. Even in his most fucked up state at the first Herogasm party he threw, he didnt feel this way.

It had gotten to the point that even Butcher had noticed once he had come back from his food run. However Butcher’s attention on him only fed into Ben’s theory that he’d been slipped something and they were just waiting for him to go down so they could do something to him. Maybe the food he’d brought just had more of whatever supe roofie was inside and they would use it to get a second dose in so they could drag him back to the Russians to be tortured again. Maybe they were working with the evil sons of bitches to turn him into this perfect weapon they wanted and this had all been a ruse to gain his trust.

“The fuck you lookin at?” He snapped out at Butcher but the man only raised his hands in surrender, not even putting up an argument which almost made him feel bad since he… had respect for the guy. He was a badass leader that did–albeit unintentionally–released him from his permanent cyro torture. Even if he was suspicious of him right now… He somewhat owed the man.

Also he was placating him with his favorite things. Drugs, trashy food, his own movies. Only things that would make his time better would be to not be spending it in this shithole hotel unless it was with a woman.

Or a few women.

Aged-like-wine women.

Maybe he was overreacting to this spacey-feeling bullshit.

He probably just needed to do a couple lines to get rid of the yawns and he would be good as new.

“Didn’t say nothin, mate. Calm yer pretty little ticker down.” Butcher responded, glancing down at his chest in warning, reminding them all what would happen if he didn’t get over whatever he was getting so defensive about. “Take some pills, take a nap fer all I care. Whatever keeps this buildin from shambles and our goals within sight.”

The nap line was really all he heard and it was definitely the worst thing to say. The bottle in his hand shattered between his fingers like it was nothing more than a breakaway and Hughie’s face drained of color in time with the beer that dripped down his arm.

Ben stood up his finger pointing at Butcher in a real warning, “Whatever the fuck you think you accomplished–whatever shit you roofied me with–it’s best you undo it right now before I turn your queer side piece into– into…” he couldnt even think of a clever threat. It's like his brain was completely malfunctioning leaving him to just angrily settle for a more embarrassingly simple correction. “Before I fucking kill him.”

The Brit raised his eyebrow as he had to take a second to actually will his mouth to hold back a sarcastic comment about the tongue trip, shockingly actually valuing their lives for once since he was so close to getting Homelander with Soldier Boy in his pocket. “A’right.. hold on now. I ain't got a clue whatcha accusing me of but we ‘aven't done it.” he closed his laptop softly, never taking his eyes off Ben the same way he would never take his eyes off a wild horse. “Why d’ya fink we roofied ya? Beyond the actual roofies yew requested, that is?”

His reaction made Ben second guess his theory again. He never second guessed himself like this. Even when he was wrong. And he sure as shit didn't share his feelings. Feelings were for pussies like Hughie. You didn't have feelings in war or at Vought. Yet…. he felt oddly compelled to answer Butcher’s question honestly and without more threats. He couldn't rationalize this strange compulsion other than maybe it was the way Butcher talked to him or managed to not be afraid of him. Or maybe it was because he was potentially slipped something–he still hadn’t ruled it out!

“I feel… wrong. My head ain't clear but everything I’ve taken should’ve worn off by now.” His hand dipped in the air like a physical indicator of his current lowering confidence and defenses which Butcher–in true Billy Butcher fashion–promptly took a shit on.

“Sounds like someone’s backed up. How boutcha go have a wank in the shower while we plug our ears and pretend we hadn’t noticed yer on edge?” Ben scoffed at the suggestion, his defenses rising back up. Butcher didn't get it. He didnt have blue balls, he had a fucked up head!

“No, you fuckin foreign– guy! ” this was really getting pathetic.. “I-it’s like… like–”

“Like PTSD…?” Hughie nervously piped up from where he was watching, still frozen to the couch. The other two men looked over at him and Ben opened his mouth to shut him down but hesitated. While he was actually kind of glad the little runt was taking him more seriously than Butcher had.. he also didn’t have an answer. He wanted to say no, I've seen shell shock, idiot. I don't have it! He wasn't really sure this time because he really didn't feel normal which was only making him feel more… antsy.

Picking up on his discomfort and hesitation, Butcher turned back towards Ben and watched him for a second, actually deciding to have a good look at him beyond his front of anger. He was tense but his body language was severely lacking its usual arrogant confidence. Like he wasn't comfortable within his own space right now. Once Butcher really looked, even his face, which normally lacked any expression beyond irritation, was practically screaming; I don’t know what’s going on! Someone fix it!

He’d seen that look more times than he could count in his life with his line of work but something about it reminded him more of a little kid than an adult in the middle of a PTSD episode. The look was similar to the one that made him call Hughie “kid” regardless of him being a full adult and insisting on it all the time.

He could see something in Ben right now that activated the part of his brain that had always taken care of Lenny as a kid.

The softer part of him that insisted he help the poor sod’s silent beg for help.

“Oi..kay, kid.” Butcher softened the gruffness in his tone and stood up from his seat at the table, snagging a bag of greasy fries and the frostie he had yet to dig into. “Let's get on then, yeah?” He slung an arm around Ben’s shoulder and led him back to the hotel bed in front of the TV he had long set up shop on.

Although still confused, Ben didn’t stop him. Instead following on autopilot while his mind still reeled with thought until his knees bumped against the mattress.

“No– I'm not tired. I told you I'm not tired–” had he told Butcher that or had he only yelled at Hughie today? “I’m not taking a damn nap–!” christ, he sounded like a whining child! Sleeping wouldn’t kill him for fuck’s sake! If the Russians hadn't figured that out after this many years surely they never would– unless they did. He didn't want to be tortured more– how long would it be before his mind broke for good? Before he died?

“No, y’ain’t so hush and stop yer worrying. Were jus’ gonna sit and eat the food I boughtcha before my money goes ta waste.” Ben looked surprised to have been effectively told to shut up and do what he's told but what he was most shocked about was the fact he didn't immediately get the desire to punch the shit out of him for having the audacity to do so. He just felt… odd. Like there were butterflies tying uncomfortable knots in his stomach. Like… it was almost nice to have a direction to go into so his thoughts would pause.

“Come on. Don’t make me wait. Fries ain’t neva last too long outside the frya.” Butcher pat his lower back, almost like he was a little kid getting encouraged forward and he listened. He crawled up onto the bed and sat in his spot looking at him with big eyes, clearly at a loss with the situation. He felt like he didn't know himself. This was a part of him he’d never experienced and he didn't know what to do, yet Butcher… seemed as at ease as ever. Like he’d dealt with a hundred men with nukes in their chests yelling at him.

Though he knew him longer than Ben did, even all Hughie could do was watch with the same odd mixture of shock and amazement when Butcher sat down beside the supe, tossed the fries between them, then changed the channel. No one had touched the remote since Ben had figured it out just enough to channel surf onto his own films. He had guarded that thing like a kid who found a new toy he didn't want to share.

“I.. was watching that.” Ben struggled to get out in a mumble that had never left his lips before.

“Won't spoil the ending for ya then, just say it ain't worth more than a prostitute that's got the clap.” Butcher casually informed him while he looked through the menu. The hotel, although shitty in every other aspect, actually had a Vought+ subscription, which begrudgingly had a pretty good selection. “Hughie, be a good lad for me an name a tolerable animation that aint Disney.”

“The Little Mer…maid..?” Hughie stuttered out, his brain automatically picking the last Disney movie he’d watched with him, too scared to really absorb the question.

“That’s Disney, Champ. Lookin fer somethin on Vought+”

“Oh. Right. Um..” He racked his brain for a moment trying not to mess this up and get his butt chewed by Soldier Boy later for choosing a movie he would hate sitting through. But the more he thought about everything the grumpy old man complained about when they were alone the less movies he could think of. In fact all he could think of was Ariel. Ariel.. Ariel, save me. Oh wait. “Isn't… isn't there a Disney princess section on Vought+ now?”

“Hn.. There is. Good thinkin.” Butcher cleared his throat a bit as he clicked on the movie then tossed the remote to reach for a fry, not paying attention to the way Ben was currently staring at him like he was an alien. “Redheaded broad it is.”

“Disney.. prin…cess? Like… the films for.. little brats..?” Ben slowly asked out, his voice not really feeling like his own with how insecure and… small it sounded. This all felt like a drug fueled dream. A really weird one, not one of the fun ones. Maybe he’d already fallen asleep and was back in some cyro-coma.

“Mmhm. Hughie likes em. Usually he leans more towards that lil boffin Belle over the glorified sushi princess but–”

“I like Ariel!” Hughie instantly defended but his cheeks went pink as he realized he meant to defend himself in a different way. Like one that might keep his reputation intact or keep himself from being relentlessly bullied by resident tough man, Soldier Boy. “I-I mean–” He gave Butcher an embarrassed, desperate look as he hissed out between his teeth a clear plea. “Butcher..! Come on..!”

Ben’s head swiveled between Hughie and Butcher feeling like he was missing out on something. He felt like that a lot recently since the world was so much different than it was back when he was last in it but this felt like he was out of the loop on something he should know.

“Why… why does Hughie like–” Before he could even finish his question, Butcher had slipped an ice cream dipped fry in his mouth, surprising him further. His reaction time was lacking, he hadn't even seen the man’s hand until it was too late. His senses were dulled. Could only imagine the foul shit his father would say if he saw him now.

“Film’s startin, kid, eat yer food.” Butcher spooned a mouthful of frostie into his own mouth with the grace expected of a grown man whose shirt was stained as much as it was and Ben watched him as he slowly followed instructions and chewed what had been given to him. His gaze flicked over to Hughie still trying to figure out what was going on but all Hughie was telling him was that he’d rather be swallowed alive by the couch than make eye contact with him.

The sound of water splashing alongside loud music on the tv stole his attention away from his less than stellar detective work and he watched for a few seconds as sailors began to sing. His brows furrowed and he turned to Butcher to protest and ask again about why the hell grown men would watch cartoons like this but the moment his mouth opened he was spoon fed some frostie. And while it was more careful than how the Brit had fed himself the action was aggravating. Ben looked at the Brit with an unhappy glare that probably looked more harmless than his usual happy expression if the rest of him looked as pathetic as he felt. But when he was given no attention from it he finally turned away to begrudgingly watch the stupid movie they insisted on making him watch instead of dealing with his problems.

Twenty minutes was all it took for Ben to be fully enraptured, his thought process having melted away with the colorful fish on the screen without his knowledge. Butcher had kept a casual eye on him after he’d realized he was dropping, mildly worried that the loose cannon might start to get anxious again if he broke out of his distraction. It was a little rockier at the start of the movie when he was still incredibly uneasy with the situation and unhappy with having been fed twice without permission; however Butcher was stupid and confident. An that’s what got ‘im this far in life, right?

So sue him if he let himself feel a bit smug as Ben obliviously settled into this new headspace, watching the movie as if it were the most interesting thing he’d ever witnessed. The only time he occasionally turned away from the screen was for the brief moment it would take to be spoon fed another bite being offered. Nothin beat the tried and true combination of an age regression classic an comfort food t’keep someone perfectly satiated in a headspace, eh?

Kid would barely wait to swallow before pointing at the screen to yell something about it because he was trying so hard to listen after having been told “ta swallow ‘is food ‘fore speakin,” but still NEEDED to give his commentary on everything since at his core he was still Ben. He might be acting younger but he was still who he was for better or for worse. And that included movie commentary.

Ben: “That crab is such an ass-munch! I mean look at him! He’s practically makin out with King Trident’s butt.”

Butcher: “His name’s Sebastian, you’ll like him more later on, bud.”

Ben: “I don’t like commies.”

Butcher: “Now why’dja go an call the poor ol bastard that?”

Ben: “He’s red.”

Butcher: “That don’t mean… he’s a crab, mate.”

Ben: “And? Crabs can be commies.”

Hughie: “That’s weirdly the most inclusive thing I’ve heard you say.”

—

Ben: “Hell yeah King Trident!”

Hughie: “You can't cheer for him, he just destroyed his daughter’s most prized collection!”

Ben: “Uh yeah. She didn't do what he said so she earned it. And she was probably kissin on that statue like a weirdo. Anyway he looked cool doing it.”

Butcher: “An how’dja know she was doin that?”

Ben: “I dunno.”

Hughie: “Ariel wouldn't kiss a statue!”

Ben: “Shut up, Hughie, you don't know that!”

Hughie: “Yes, I do! I’ve watched this movie more than you!”

Butcher: “Boys.”

Hughie: “Sorry..”

Ben: “Well I’m not sorry.”

Once the junk food was gone, Ben started his yawns again but Butcher counted himself lucky that his anxiety didn't notice them this time since that was the only thing he could guess set him off earlier. That or he just took too much while he was gone and got paranoid. Supe was a nutcase anyhow and Butcher probably trusted him even less than Hughie did.

Near the end of the movie though was when the brick of a man made himself comfortable against Butcher’s side and without making it a big deal, the infamous bloke wrapped his arm around his shoulder to pull him in tight. He was softer than he looked. Maybe that level of comfort he was providing was why Ben’s aggressive commentary died away before he could give a final scathing review and instead slipped asleep the moment the next movie started. But Ben would certainly deny that to anyone that brought it up. Including his own thoughts. He’d rather blame those supe-special roofies he never confirmed.