#i. glanced over your verses and put this in captured verse

[katsukikitten]

continuation of a selfship drabble master list here

The leaves on the ground give him pause, brow furrowing as he notices you haven't posted anything for a solid two weeks now, not even a status. Almost a month since he spoke to you last.

He sighs, berates himself for doing it but he has to know that you're at least still alive. Checking your location first and he's thankful you still haven't turned it off. Looks like you're either headed back to your apartment or out. Sees that Taro is with you and closes the app.

Tells himself that's good enough, that at least he knows you're living, that you were in the hands of someone he trusted dearly. So he pockets his phone only to pull it right back out.

Is she okay?

Sky blue eyes stare down at the message, chancing a glance at you who's driving as if he could get into trouble. Slander thumbs make quick work of a response.

I reckon

makin me sing all the fuckin songs on the radio

especially TOD

Kaza feels conflicted, tongue running along his teeth as he rereads the rapid messages. Before he can reply another comes on.

Your singles've been playing a lot. not while I'm in the car but shit is obvious.

Fuck, fuck he shouldn't have even fuckin recorded them. Soft sad melodies that played in his head during the witching hour. Shouldn't have ever put your voice memos layered to sound like background barely audibly just for him to call out to you before the next verse. Text me when you get home, I love you. Something he said to you over and over again.

that vent song we made together that Muzan fuckin released anyway.

and this sad ass song I can't stomach

we ain't strangers to them right

pretty girl think that? that we're fuckin strangers?

Attached is a link to the song that he clicks quickly to listen to, lyrics solemn and sad. Just his single, just like the vent song he and taro made, still unable to capture the well of sadness and anger in his chest. Glaring down at his phone, trying to calm his breath, Akaza was the main reason why the band had to take a hiatus in the first place.

Punching band members, punching aggressive fans that asked about you, punching Muzan when he tried to offer up his niece as someone that he or Gyutaro could date. He would have broken his jaw if it wasn't for the other three band members trying to pull him off.

Like pulling a wild dog off a bone.

A wolf off a carcass.

He did break Koku's orbital bone with his elbow when he tried throwing them off. It was Gyutaro who thought quickly enough to shout "She'll be pissed if ya get jail time."

But the threat of that died the next day when he found himself smiling down at four men in a four v one that he instigated. Running his hand through his fading pink hair. Biting the inside of his already raw cheek.

He reassures his bandmate easily

your pretty girl always thinks the world of ya. tell her the truth she'll believe ya

To which the dark haired man replies quickly

fuck off you first

"Stubborn bastard." He growls to no one but himself before his phone pings, not a message but a notification.

Clicking on it way too quickly to see a selfie of you and Taro both flicking off the camera. The man is smoking, cigarette hanging from his lips, phone in his other hand screen still aglow as if he was in the middle of a reply.

Clearly at a stop light, your hair wind blown and the two of you are in your car, the one he helped you fix up and by helped he asked you to "sit and look pretty princess" while he did all of the work because he wanted to.Still does.

But he can't, not anymore. No way to explain what happened and maybe he doesn't think he deserves to even attempt to tell you a truth you won't believe anyway.

The caption reads still livin, still hate the end of summer

He pats himself down for his smokes, debates if he should vague, cupping his hand around the end of the stick before the flame flickers to life and catches. Burning as he breathes in and exhales slowly leaving a gray cloud in its wake.

Deciding against it when another selfie comes through, you with your eyes closed and peace sign up, oversized hoodie, his hoodie, making the neckline a bit lower, seeing something circular and black on a dainty chain, like a ring or band. A necklace he doesn't recognize, at least at first, eyes going to the caption.

we'll go back to strangers

Stomach dropping as the lyrics match up to the song he listens to now. Although she wasn't musically inclined she's always been drawn to it, he knew that. Knew her music reflected her moods more often than not.

Knew that when he released his single. The one that made her go radio silent to the entire group, even if she wasn't angry with them, for an entire two months before Gyutaro showed up at her door.

Another text comes in pulling him from his thoughts only to fan the flames.

she still has that fuckin ring

And then it hits him, the circular band too small for his inked digits burns against his skin under his shirt hanging from a chain. Fingers flying to it to feel the smoothness of the rose gold and the embedded onyx gem and black diamonds surrounding it. The same ring you flung back at him when everything happened so fast.

Looking at the photo you posted again and finally seeing the 'pendant' for what it really was. A black wedding band meant to match a black gemmed wedding ring.

The revelation makes him see red, makes a clotting mix of deep sorrow and anger twist and knot in his chest, losing when one starts and the other ends. Just how he sees you and him. Quick to start his bike, to abandon his half finished cigarette and skid out of his parking spot before he heads back inside to bloody his knuckles again. He was the cause of this, of your sorry.

Your pain.

Heart beating way too fast and yet slowing as he starts to become numb. Grip tight on his bike's handle and phone making it glitch. Snapping pictures, opening apps from feeling his skin, the sensors not knowing what to register and trying to pinpoint the most pressure.

Meanwhile his speedometer climbs higher and higher.

190

200

220

250

Slowly creeping higher as his bike whines from exertion. Weaving between cars that barely register as a blur as he navigates the highway this late at night.

His phone vibrates excessively before his headphones interrupt the looped song to signify he had an incoming call before picking up for him. Wind from no helmet going to to make it near impossible for him to say anything back unless he screamed.

"Slow down and delete that fuckin picture before she sees it. Right the fuck NOW!" Gravely voice rarely raised, especially when aimed at family.

But Akaza can't be fucking bothered, barely audible as he growls "Shut the fuck up." With that he hangs up and when it rings again he doesn't bother answering it, launching it into the concrete guard unable to watch it explode into a million pieces from his speed.

Part of him thinks he should let go, just finally let the ride take him like it was always supposed to.

Fitting that a violent life would lead to a violent end.

Until the ghost of you curls around his back, static before your pretty voice would ring through his ear pods because you called him on his way home from work.

"Careful Jiji, I just want you home in one piece."

Making him grip his brakes as fast as possible without flinging himself over the handlebars, stopped on the side of the shoulder as a few cars past by him.

He walks back the handful of miles to where he threw his phone, whistling lowly when he sees nothing but a star shower of glittering glass and smashed innards.

Kneeling down and determining that nothing was salvageable. Running his broad palm through his hair slowly.

God could he be anymore of a fuck up?

He was sure he couldn't.

But he'd be proved otherwise, when he turns on his new phone the next afternoon sees several missed calls from his foxy sister, from Taro and one from you at 3am.

Not a vague, not a message, a phone call. Voicemail flashing at the top of the fresh screen. Inked fingers fumbling over the glass as he goes to listen, your voice filling him with absolute dread.

How you try to force the venom into your tone, how you can't hide how you've been crying, how you're still shaking. Pouty lip wobbling from the weight he put on you by giving in to his anger.

"You better be fuckin dead."

Before the line goes as dead as he feels inside.

He really truly was a demon.

[dragonmuse]

For the smutty asks! (Hopefully I beat everyone else to it, lol!)

Can you see Jim and Lucius getting together in any of your verses?

(you win and OMG! What an ask to win, I love it. SO. I have said that in mainverse, Jim and Lucius do like to make out on occasion post-Sing a New Song. Oluwande is always around for these moments. And I do think maybe just the once....YES. Let's say that they do. Everyone take this to as much canon as they would like. Also I got blasted on gin tonight.)

Lucius liked Jim and Oluwande’s apartment. It was all in warm colors, the living room a rich terra cotta shade that made the whole place feel like it might’ve been transplanted from some desert town. They were all a little stoned, Oluwande sprawled out on the bean bag chair that Jim had acquired at some garage sale, looking like a decadent god with his shirt open to his stomach, the rich cream of it setting off the richness of his skin. Jim was on the couch, legs splayed wide, a glass hanging from the fingers of one hand. Lucius was on the other side, sketching in a very loose way, capturing the lines of their body. 

“Not even once,” he was saying as he captured the capable spread of Jim’s fingers on the glass. 

“Not even a porno or two?” Oluwande asked, head lolling a little to one side. “Really? Just never?” 

“I’ve been into guys since I was old enough to jerk it,” Lucius shrugged expansively. “And I lacked imagination as a horny high schooler. And since then I haven’t been lucky enough to attract a guy with one.” 

“You’re missing out,” Oluwande informed him. 

“What do you think?” Lucius asked Jim. 

“I think everyone should have both,”  they gestured with their glass. “Or neither. Or something new. Who the fuck cares? What are we talking about again?” 

“Lucius has never slept with someone with a vulva,” Oluwande reminded them. “Vagina. Pussy? I like pussy as a word, but like…I dunno. Pussy is a vibe, not an organ, right?” 

“Is it?” Lucius looked between them.  

“Yeah, maybe, “ Jim considered. “I’ve got a vagina, but I don’t think I’ve got a pussy. Sometimes Olu has a pussy.” 

“Exactly, exactly,” Oluwande nodded. “Especially on really good Teal days, I definitely have one.” 

“Frenchie would probably be on board with that,” a dash of pencil and sketch Jim acquired another arm, extended over the back of the couch. 

“Wait! Wait,” Oluwande sat up a little, then sagged down against the gravity of the bean bag. “Luc…our Lucius, has a little slice of virginity left! Un-fucking-believable.” 

“I mean, arguably,” Lucius wrinkled his nose. “Is it really that different?”  Jim and Oluwande both gave him a look. “Wow, you guys have definitely  reached ‘couple who have been together so long they make the same facial expressions’.” 

“It’s different,” Oluwande said firmly. “In really good ways.” 

“All right, I’ll put it on my bucket list.” 

He concentrated on his paper for a second which was why he was startled when Jim’s hand landed on his collar and dragged him forward. 

“Oookay, hello,” he laughed and followed the drag to crawl across the couch. He straddled their lap, admiring Jim’s lazy half-smile. “Can I help you?” 

“I’m horny,” Jim informed him. “And Olu is comfortable. We can cross it off your bucket list right now.” 

“Oh...oh shit, really?” Lucius’ eyes went wide. “Uh, you’re both good with that?” 

“Yeah,” Jim glanced at Oluwande. “We’re good?” 

“We’re good,” he confirmed. “We talked about it a couple of months ago. I don’t think I could deal with it being a regular thing, but hey, variety of is the spice of life once and a while.” 

“I...can’t actually promise to be any good,” Lucius realized, shifting uneasily. “But I can certainly give it my all.” 

“Half the fucking battle,” Jim pulled him down again. 

Kissing Jim was like being annihilated. They were ruthlessly good at it, sucking Lucius’ bottom lip into their mouth, dancing the tip of their tongue over it until it felt like it was hardwired straight to cock.  Usually when they made out, Lucius was drunk enough that getting it up would be a losing battle, but tonight, he was only pleasantly smeared out and he had absolutely no problem. 

It didn’t hurt that Jim paused just long enough to set their drink down on the coffee table, then ran their hands under Lucius' shirt, skimming fingernails over his ribs in a very promising way. He obligingly wiggled out of it.  Jim tore their mouth from his to explore his chest, dropping nipping kisses over his chest. 

Lucius braced one hand against the back of the couch and used the other to cradle Jim’s neck, encouraging the exploration. This was comfortable ground. Stayed comfortable as Jim shed their shirt and Lucius could trace the musculature of their shoulders.  

“Fuck, I love your skin,” he groaned as Jim flicked their tongue over his nipple with interest. 

“Soft and a little furry, right?” Oluwande giggled, “like a cat’s ear.” 

“Silk.” Lucius agreed. 

“Shut up,” Jim recaptured his mouth. 

They kissed for a while and Lucius lost himself in the exchange. Jim’s tongue was so clever and fast. If he was with another lover, Lucius might’ve started grinding against them, but he wasn’t sure where the lines were with Jim.  

Then in a very sudden, very clear way, Jim’s hands were on his ass dragging him into contact. His cock ground into their stomach which was very firm. Lucius made an appreciative noise into their mouth. Maybe he could have just ground himself into a lazy orgasm, but after a minute of that Jim pulled away. 

“You want to do this?” They checked. 

“Yes,” he said without reservation.  

“You won’t get...weird about it?” 

“No,” he promised. “Even if it’s not my scene, I’ll make sure we both have a good time this round and I’ll just decline if it comes up again. Okay?” 

“...yeah, okay,” they decided.

Apparently just like most things with Jim, it was either a yes or a no and both went full tilt. Yes, meant that Jim got to their feet and without any hesitation shucked off their shirt, pants and underwear, so they stood before him entirely nude. He’d seen it all before, drawn it even, but it was another thing to have their cunt inches from his face. Very vivid. 

“They like it if you touch their chest a lot first,” Oluwande suggested, distantly behind them. “You can get pretty rough, they don’t have a lot of feeling in their nipples.” 

“Yeah?” Lucius checked with Jim. 

‘“Mhm,” they stepped forward, hesitated then put themselves in his lap, bringing their lovely deep brown nipples in range. 

Who was Lucius to resist? He rested his hands on Jim’s sides, and leaned in to lap at the right nipple, the hard nub a familiar bit of territory. Jim’s only reaction was to lean into it, silent, but clearly a demand. 

This Lucius could do. He licked and then, experimentally, put his teeth to the nub and was rewarded with a soft encouraging noise. When he really put his effort into it, Jim grunted in approval, hips rocketing forward. Hell yeah. Lucius could work with that. He lost long minutes bringing forth Jim’s rutting hips, laving attention on both brown disks with teeth and tongue. Whichever one was not receiving his mouth’s attention, he made sure to rub over in slow circles with a thumb. 

“Oh fuck,” Jim said under their breath. “Okay...okay.. Here...” 

They grabbed Lucius’ hand away from where it was slowly torturing one apaprently oversensaized nipple. 

“Tell me what you like,” he all, but purred. 

“I like to start with one finger,” they said, quiet, but firm. “Slide it slow. Your thumb can go on my clit, slow circles like you were doing.” 

“Guided tour,” he reminded them. 

“Yeah..yeah okay,” they considered then just took his hand and molded it into the shape they wanted, pointer finger hooked up, thumb cocked. 

Then in what felt like molasses slow motion, Jim took his wrist and brought it down to the right level. With a look of intense concentration, they shifted their hips to align his hand where they need it and then sank down. 

Wet heat enveloped Lucius’ finger.

“Yeah...oh hell yeah,” he licked his lips. “Okay, where’s the-” 

Jim placed his thumb on what was very clearly a distinct nub. 

“Start soft,” they warned. 

“This is what guy’s can’t find?” Lucius asked incredulously. “It’s obvious!” 

“People are dumb,” Oluwande agreed. “I do big circles at first, narrow in.” 

“Yeah,” Jim agreed and when Lucius moved his thumb in a wide arc, he could feel muscle flutter around his pointer finger. “Move in and out. Slow.” 

It was a dance, and Lucius might not know the steps, but he was very familiar with the rhythm. After a false start or two, he got the hang of the duel motion. It was easy to tell what Jim liked, their breath broke in half when he did something right. 

“Another finger,” they demanded and he had to readjust, but when he slid in two, Jim groaned deeply and rocked against him in clear demand. 

The angle was new, but Lucius adjusted to it. As Jim’s breath got faster, he stroked a little faster and harder over their clit. Their hands landed on his shoulders and their grip dug in as they thrust harder against him. He could feel the walls of them clutching around him in their own rhythm and it was startlingly sexy in a way he couldn’t have antcipated. It egged him on to go faster, to press a little harder. 

“Yes!” Jim moaned and then spasmed around his fingers, everything getting substantially wetter. 

“...did you just come?” He checked. 

“Yeah,” they dropped their forehead to his shoulder. 

“That was so hot,” he told them, kissing their neck and shoulder. “Like really really scorchingly hot.” 

“It was?” they asked. And it was a little weird because Lucius’ fingers were definitely still lodged in them, but they made no move to get away, so he left them there. 

“Yeah, you’re really fucking hot and I’ve never been gripped like that before.” 

“Want to go for all three?”

“All three what?” he blinked. 

“Hands, mouth and genitals,” Oluwande put in helpfully. 

“In one night?” 

“I can go like six or seven times?” Jim hazarded. “Olu?” 

“Record is twelve, but that was a wild night.” 

“Twelve?” Lucius squeaked. “Okay, forget having sex with someone with a vagina. I WANT one.” 

“They have their moments,” Jim laughed in his ear. They were also already moving their hips again, rocking against his fingers. “What do you say?” 

“I mean I’m here to eat the whole buffet, I think.” 

“Good. How are you on your knees?” 

“My friend, it’s where I do my best work.” 

Easy to say. A little daunting to drop to his knees and be confronted with an entirely new setup and sensory experience. The smell was definitely different, but not nearly as off putting as he might’ve imagined. It was distinctly an odor of sex and how bad could that be?  Jim’s heels landed on his back, their strong legs pulling him in. 

“Dos? Don’ts?” He asked as leaned into kiss their inner thigh. That was the same and he could bury himself there for a long time. 

“Go slow until I say faster,” they decreed. “And I’ll tell you where to go.” 

“Yeah, okay.” 

Legs spread, Lucius again decided some straight men weren’t very clever. Maybe it was because he was used to looking for cocks, but it was clear what was a thick bundle of nerves. He slid his hands under Jim’s ass, massaging the flesh a little and admriing the strength beneath the thin layer of fat. Then without allowing himself further though, he licked a stripe from top to bottom. 

“Yeah...good,” Jim encouraged, “Just the tip of your tongue right...Lucius!” 

He was a fast study. The taste was new, somehow briny instead of just skin and musk. Having eaten a lot of ass in his time, he was used to the close warmth, but the natural generation of slick, salty body fluid surprised him. It was a little like come and not at all like it all at once. He chased the newness, flattening his tongue over the whole of them. 

“Concentrate on the clit,” Jim said, a little breathlessly. “Smaller motion...kind of...fuck...” 

“Like your tongue is an arrow and they’re the target,” Oluwande advised. 

Which was surprisingly clear and Lucius could do that. He used the to tip of his tongue, teasing it over and over them. Jim’s breath caught again and again until they started rocking against his face. 

“Fuck me with your fingers...” 

New angle again. Lucius hadn’t had to learn so quickly on the fly in bed since he’d first given Izzy an order. He slid two fingers home and Jim’s hand slid into his hair, not quite pulling, but definitely a firm hold. He fucked into them as he flicked his tongue over and over their clit. It took longer than the average blow job, but Jim was much more responsive than a lot of guys. They groaned and rocked against him, tugged at his hair and as they got closer, they actually talked, 

“Just like that..” they mumbled, “ fuck, Lucius please...harder. More....” 

When they came a second time, he could tell much more easily, the hot slick of them coating his tongue and his mouth. His chin too. He pulled away a little, only to find that Jim was holding his head in place. When he went on licking, they didn’t pull away, but road his tongue through the aftershocks. 

“You’ve never done that before?” they demanded as he pulled back at last, catching his breath. 

“Nope,” he assured them. “Doing okay?” 

“Yeah,” they half-laughed, half-groaned, “you’re doing really good.” 

“...is it rude to say I think I need to wipe my face?” 

“Nope.,” they grinned. “You got me going really good. Not surprised. You can use my t-shirt since you gotta wear yours home.” 

Lucius groped for it, found the fabric and wiped off his chin and mouth. The taste lingered, but not the way spunk could sometimes. He reached for his glass of water, took a sip and set it back down. 

“Wow.” He laughed. “I kind of can’t believe that just happened, but it was really hot.” 

“Yeah?” Jim checked his face as if he might be lying, then smiled when he nodded vigorously. “Cool. You want to fuck me?” 

“I would love that if you’d trust me to do it. Condoms are a must though. Haven’t been tested in a few weeks.” 

“I don’t think we have any,” Jim wrinkled up their nose. 

“Lucky for you, I’m always prepared.” Reaching into his front pocket (why was he still wearing pants? Convenient at the moment though), he pulled out a foil packet. 

“Lucius Black, Good Times Boy Scout,” Oluwande laughed. “You got lube in there too?” 

“Of course.” 

“You won’t need it,” Jim reached for him, tugging Lucius back up to kiss him. It was sloppier, but that was almost hotter. Precise, accurate Jim kissing him open mouthed and hungry was its own turn on. 

With a few quick moves, Lucius shimmied out of his pants. He’d forgone underwear today which had been a genius move, he decided as Jim’s clever long fingers wrapped around his cock and gave it an interested long caress. 

“He’s not much bigger than you,” Jim said and it took Lucius a second to realize they were talking to Oluwande. “But you’re definitely thicker.” 

“It’s not a competition,” OIuwande said airly. “I know what to do with it.” 

“You do,” Jim grinned, then turned their attention back to Lucius. “I’m going to get on top. Do it the way I like. You good with that?” 

“Hell yeah,” he matched their wild smile. “I love that for us.” 

Which was how he wound up sitting on the couch he’d spent many enjoyable friendly evenings, utterly naked, hands on Jim’s hips and watching as they arranged him as they wanted. At last they seemed satisfied as they grasped the base of his cock, holding it at attention their grip intensely warm even through the condom, 

“Ready?” 

“Yeah, I’m good.” 

“Me too,” they winked and then sank down. 

Through the condom, the strong, warm grip wasn’t terribly different from what he was used to. The angle was fun though. Jim was much closer than his lovers could usually get when penetrated. It was downright easy to slide his arms up their back and put his mouth to good use one of their already pinked up nipples. 

“Oooooh,” they moaned. They rocked up slow and sank all the way back down. 

They settled into a sticky sweet rhythm, Lucius rocking up against them as they slid down, retreating as they rose. Jim liked taking the full length and almost separating entirely which started Lucius’ spine tingling. He loved a slow fuck, the almost meditative state of it. Jim reached down into their folds, rocking their fingers over their clit.

“I could do that,” Lucius offered. 

“Yeah?” Jim leaned down to kiss him, “cute. Maybe if there’s a next time.” 

They rocked together, time losing meaning, even as Lucius fought tenaciously for control of the climax building in his gut. He refused to do anything, but the metronome pace Jim had set. And then all at once Jim bit off an ragged moan and clenched down hard around him, shaking a little in his grip. 

“Yeah?” He watched their face. 

“Uhhuh,” their blissed out state was obvious, their usually tightly drawn face gone a little slack. 

“They like if you end giving to them full blast,” Oluwande suggested, though he could’ve been speaking an ocean away for how hard it was for Lucius to register. 

“Really?” Lucius licked his lips. 

“I can take whatever you’ve got, Black,” they shoved down pointedly. 

“Oh, it’s fucking on,” he grinned. 

Lucius might not like to lift weights or go for runs, but he got in a startlingly amount of his preferred forms of exercise. He considered the different of their statures and the changed angels. Carefully he braced Jim with his arms, sliding them up their back to grip their shoulders and then leaned them back to give him better access. 

Then he started thrusting like a machine, short, hard strokes that made Jim rattle off a series of punched out moans that cascaded one on top of the other as Lucius bent his head and put in his back into it. He could feel his orgasm coming like a train and doubled his efforts, Jim’s moans becoming nearly screams as he thrust a last few times, coming hard enough to rob him of breath for an instant. 

“Fuckfuckuck...”Jim moaned, reaching between their legs to rub hard against themselves one last time.Then they came hard around his spent cock and he shuddered, oversensitized and blitzed out.  

Spent, but still aware of his friend in his grasp, Lucius shifted and drew Jim towards him, until they sagged against him. He kissed their shoulder, rubbed their back. 

“Thank you.” he whispered into their ear. “That was beautiful. You were amazing.” 

“Shut up,” they muttered, but didn’t draw away. If anything they held him closer. 

In a few minutes, Lucius would get off the couch, toss the condom and put his clothes back on. Oluwande would hug him, an assurance that all was well, and Jim would kiss him goodbye. He’d carry the memory of that night with him always. Remember it as a beautiful gift. 

Now though, he just breathed in Jim’s citrus, sweat and sex smell, rocking them both a little as they came down from the high of it all. 

“Love you,” Lucius confided. 

“Yeah,” Jim smiled into his shoulder. He could feel the shape of their lips there and feel their pleasure against every inch of his body.  “Hard same.”

[drgnrder82]

An Unfortunate Circumstance (Honor Among Thieves Fanfic)

Chapter 6

Simon 

However long Simon and Roserae sat on the floor of his bathing room, huddling together, hands clasped, over his stories about his family in Targos, it was not long enough to truly capture the joy they'd brought him. Point of fact: is a crime crew a family? Simon rather thought Edgin, Holga, Kira, and him were like one. They were definitely more loving than his birth family. 

Whatever way one looked at it, there hadn't been nearly enough time or stories before a strong-willed maid, Dirdra, came in with her dark-as-night hair pulled into a low bun and cleared her throat at the bathing room door. "Sorcerer Aumar wishes to speak with you," Dirdra said with a low curtsey. 

Fortunately for Simon, his tears had long since dried. Standing first, Simon helped Roserae to her feet. A red mark across her cheek from lying against his shoulder for so long. A quick glance at the maid sent his mind spinning through possibilities. 

Turning his back to Dirdra, Simon whispered, “The walls have ears.” 

“Aye,” she looked like he’d told her something she grew up knowing. He probably had. 

“I know you know, but… be careful. Do not say…” 

“I’m well enough versed, m’lord.” Roserae’s teasing settled Simon’s nerves. “I can take care of myself.” 

“Your dagger is still down in the foyer.” 

“Daggers are not the only weapon available. I’m more worried about you.” 

"I'm worried if my mother decides to show her face here." 

“Aye, that’s a concern. The sun’s not up to melt ‘er.” 

And there Roserae went, putting Simon’s nerves even more at ease. 

***

Who the proper head of the Aumar household was, was debatable. Hemlis kept his office filled with more magical artifacts than high wizards and sorcerers serving kings and lords. It was both intimidating and incredible to walk through.

Simon wondered who had released his parents from their unconscious state. Time may well have played a part, but Simon wouldn't have been surprised if a few of the servants in the house had minor latent magical abilities. Not enough to harm his parents, but enough to allow them to aid them should anything go awry. 

Every ounce of confidence Simon possessed needed to be mustered again. “If you’re trying to convince me to break my vows…”

"It is you who needs to remember who you are, Simon Aumar. You make believe at being a confident sorcerer to fool those around you.” 

Well, that was… hurtfully true. 

“But—” 

Simon’s heart stopped. 

Read the entire chapter here on AO3.

[artoni-arts]

melody in static; chapter 8

previous . index . next

what u should know;

@tiesthatbind-tf verse, quintesson-era [late 1920s actually I did a timeline we’re in 1930 pretty much]

cw; Signs of drug addiction, including agitation & mood swings.

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

By the time they reached the outskirts of Jeddah, tensions had risen despite Victor's best efforts at quelling them. And he himself was on edge and tense, only kept level-headed by the knowledge that Scarlett was close. 

The question remained, of course, how exactly to get her out of the Spire. And it wasn't only that; there were a number of terraforming-tracts nearby, to the point where they actually had to move within one to avoid another one more dangerous. Moving from dry desert to humid jungle was certainly an experience Victor had no urge to repeat, and he looked forward to the time when all this was over with and he could find somewhere to take Scarlett and just try and ignore everything else. Surely there was some corner of the world, as he'd dreamed about, untouched by Quintesson or humans.

He was even irritable enough to have snapped at Pravda when she was bickering with Soner; he wouldn't have said she was sulking, but she was still very much holding herself aloof ever since. And while part of him wanted to apologize, the rest was simply watching how she watched him. Combining such with the memory of Primus studying him during the Underground's flight from London...it didn't make for a welcoming picture, and he tried to simply not think about it. Besides, with the lone Spire looming in the distance, it was enough to keep all of their minds on their goal.

"I can get you closer, yes," Soner conceded, nervously fidgeting with his hands as he looked from the Spire and back, "but of course you understand that the closer we get, the greater a risk there is of being seen? It would be a poor ending if we were to have come all this way, only for you to be captured-!"

Pravda frowned, though to be fair, it didn't seem directed at Soner. It seemed more of simple frustration as she looked towards Victor. "Have you confirmed she is still in there?"

"Our 'friend' has said as much," Victor answered, feeling thoroughly tired that they were keeping up the vagueness. They'd only traveled with Soner for nearly two months, and while it hadn't been a boring trip - they'd at least gotten here safely. Surely a little trust had been earned at this point, but Pravda had insisted, and Victor had all but thrown up his hands. If nothing else, Soner knew they communicated through the tablet, and at least put up the front of being disinterested while occasionally giving Victor a knowing glance. He was doing the former, now, fiddling with his ring as Victor and Pravda discussed the best route to approach.

At least for a few moments - until he cleared his throat for attention, waiting until both sets of eyes were on him before he met Victor's own. "Perhaps this is one of the moments where a spacebridge would be useful?" he asked hopefully, much like a child wondering if they were about to see some sort of show. Victor could count on one hand the times he'd shown Soner his abilities, and Soner had never pushed (in fact, he had scoffed at the thought with, "What are you, a dog to do tricks?"). The fact he'd brought it up now alone was cause for thought.

"I think I could," Victor agreed after a moment, scanning the distance. It would be a bit further than he'd ever done before at once, even including his trip over the channel - for while that was further, he'd taken it in multiple 'jumps', even if they had been unsettling. This one would have to be done in one go, lest he wanted the Quintesson's sensors to pick up some strange activity.

As if reading his mind, Pravda frowned, looking first at Victor and then the Spire. "Are you certain? We do not know if they could sense-"

"-if they could have sensed him, would they not have found him already?" Soner countered before quickly adding, "Of course, the choice is yours, my friend. If you believe it safer to cross on foot, I will do my best to guide you." He squared his shoulders, and Victor thought he caught a glimpse of Pravda rolling her eyes off to the side. 

He let out a frustrated sound of his own, briefly rubbing his nose as he came to a decision. "We'll give it a try," he declared, getting to his feet. As much as he was tempted to ask for a drink to brace himself, he couldn't risk anything short of his complete focus, here - the Spire was but a thin line in the distance, set by the shores of the water. Though, if he bridged up first...

Tugging at the familiar shape, he caught just the hint of a marveled gasp from Soner before he stepped through the portal it made and took 'hold' of its edges. Yes, this was better - an easier view, though the distance still made it difficult to judge. But some quick calculations based on what he saw of other objects, and then he let the portal close.

Falling was familiar to him, by now, though he still didn't particularly like it. But at least Rhisling responded quickly enough as he reached for it once more, reopening and catching himself on its edge before pulling himself through. And while he hadn't gotten too close, he'd gotten where he wanted to be - some ruined buildings, which would serve as cover for him and the rest of his group. Smiling to himself in satisfaction, it was easy enough to bring forth both Soner and Pravda, the latter of which moved to the side to gauge their next move.

Soner, for his part, gave Victor a friendly nudge. "My utmost thanks, my friend! You have saved us much-" "Shhsh!"

Shrugging helplessly at Pravda's silencing, Soner offered Victor an apologetic smile as Victor tried to remind himself that Pravda was only trying to keep them safe. But as of late, her caution had been rubbing on him the wrong way; it felt as if she was almost mothering him. Yes, she was a mother, but there were only so many years between them in the first place-! 

Soner was peering at him, now, and Victor waved a hand in a dismissive gesture as he realized he must have been showing some of his thoughts on his face. Making a soft 'mmm' in response, Soner moved to see what Pravda was looking at, shielding his eyes with his hand as he gazed up. Victor followed as well, studying the Spire and its form.

Unlike those in London, jutting up from the Thames like needles in a vein, the Spire here was alone - and far shorter. But that may have been partly because its diameter was so large, there was no need to rise so high from the water that surrounded it like a moat. Victor judged it a few hundred meters in diameter, at the very least, and for a moment he despaired; they were to find Scarlett in that great structure? It had been difficult enough to find Simon and Joel, and that was with Primus' assistance-! 

He must have betrayed some of his thoughts as he pulled back, for Pravda turned her head towards him with the faintest look of concern. Her brow raised in silent question, and he looked away, pressing his lips together. Better to not share his uncertainty with her of all people, not when she would no doubt be relying on him so much in the immediate future. But first, he had to figure out a way to get them in...

Soner was gesturing, and the other two were quick to follow as he led them towards some greater cover. For this, nearly half a building was still intact - enough for them to regather, crouched low, and for him to ask the question on everyone's mind.

"Now what?"

Now..."We've got to get in there," Victor noted, glum. "But I haven't the faintest idea of where to start." 

As Pravda made a soft sound in acknowledgement, Soner sucked in a breath through his teeth as if something unpleasant had occurred to him. But it was only at Victor's tilt of his head that he offered, "Well, getting in would be a place to start, yes? Unless walls are a barrier to you?"

Victor blinked. "Are you suggesting I go in blind?"

"I am not suggesting anything," Soner said with a shrug. "Merely pointing it out. And if there was trouble, she," a nod towards Pravda, "would be able to fight it off, no?"

Pravda met Victor's gaze, and pressed her own lips together in a mirror of his earlier expression; he felt a brief flash of relief in the thought that she, too, had her reservations about this whole thing. A relief which was quickly replaced by something else, for hadn't she known this wasn't going to be easy-

Where had that thought come from? Victor's frown deepened, and he turned his gaze away from Pravda as her face went unreadable. Such intrusive bitterness was becoming more and more common, and he moved back towards the edge of their cover as the silence turned awkward. Even Soner didn't break it, apparently sensing some of the unease - he nervously reached for his ring to fidget.

Finally Pravda spoke first, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "I trust you, Victor." It was enough to catch his attention, and he turned back with a bit of surprise. "If you believe you can do it, then so do I."

Soner brightened at her statement, and Victor swallowed. "Very well. If we're ready to try, now…?" Both nodded, and taking a breath, Victor took a final long look at the Spire to try and gauge the distance. If he could do so across open terrain, then to imagine within...surely, it was similar? And the worst case would be that he would merely open a spacebridge into say, a wall-

-or a person-

-and he gave the thought a violent mental shove before reaching for Rhisling. It responded immediately, tearing open a connection from here to there. At first, as he suspected, there was nothing but solid metal before them - he grimaced, allowed it to close before adjusting his visualized position, and tried again. This time, it appeared to be some sort of hallway, albeit one skewed at an angle; he gave Pravda a nod before she nodded back, and approached it to peer through.

And then Soner let out a sudden hiss of warning. "Patrol-!"

Victor's head whipped around as his eyes widened, and only Pravda's surprised gasp kept him from losing his focus entirely. He managed to hold on to just enough of the spacebridge to see her clear, but it was a near thing - its wavering edges snapped shut almost like a vice, her wide eyes blazing blue as she spared only a brief look for him before her attention moved to Soner. And indeed, now Victor could hear it, that tell-tale hum-

The three of them flattened themselves into the shadows, hardly daring to breathe. And in the fading light, Victor could see the movement, the hulking forms of the Quintessons as they moved through streets only so many meters away. They were speaking as well in that strange, almost tonal tongue that caused the skin on the back of Victor's neck to prickle. The last time he'd heard it, it was directed at him in vile curses and screams...

A hand squeezed his own. Pravda's, by the strength behind it. He didn't spare her a look, instead nervously waiting for - praying to whatever God would listen - that they would pass by. And when they did, when that electrical sound of their workings finally faded...he let out a heavy sigh of relief that was echoed by those beside him, and finally turned to face them. Pravda was offering a thin smile, apparently any ill-feelings towards the spacebridge discarded in the wake of their near-notice, but Soner...

Soner was eyeing her hand still about Victor's, and then looking at the other man with a look of vague amusement. Suddenly feeling exceedingly self-conscious, Victor tugged his hand free, getting to his feet while clearing his throat.

"I think," he said after a moment, "it's too dangerous to just...go through the halls." At Pravda's tilt of her head, he added, "We don't know if a patrol could be in there, either. And I shudder to think of what would happen if they knew they had intruders inside." 

An increase in security, at the very least, assuming he was able to get them all out in the first place - but Pravda nodded with a shudder, thoughts seeming to echo Victor's own, and Soner rubbed his chin in thought. "Then...how?" he asked. "Caution is all well and good, yes, but we still must get inside to your love, no?"

"She has waited this long," Pravda murmured, "she can wait while we take our time and plan." 

It made sense - to everything but that sudden surge of anger from Victor as he whirled back on Pravda. "I am not having her wait an instant more than she has to-!" he snarled with enough force to brighten her eyes once more. 

"Victor-!"

"For God's sake, if you only wanted me to help you then you should have said as much, but this-" "Easy, easy," Soner interrupted, moving quickly to Victor's side to grab his arm. "Your voice carries, my friend, calm yourself." Another hand moved to his cheek, and Victor closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe in and out, that outrage still fighting to bubble up and over. Since when had his temper become so short-? He'd kill for a drink. But Soner was murmuring even as Pravda remained silent, and finally, Victor forced his eyes open.

"...I'm sorry," he stiffly said, "I don't know what came over me." He meant the words, and yet- and yet, Pravda was not looking at him, instead with her back to the both of them as she regarded the Spire once more. Soner took the apology in her stead, smiling and patting Victor's cheek in a friendly manner before shaking his head.

"Hardly necessary. Those were, ah, poor words." He cast a glance towards Pravda, who didn't so much as acknowledge. "But the question stands..."

In the silence that followed, Victor took another deep breath. "...I think I may have another idea." That finally caught Pravda's notice, and she cast him half a glance as he continued, slowly moving towards the Spire. "Soner, I think...I think this may be the time to take you up on that suggestion."

Pravda blinked. Soner did as well, and then, once he realized the implication, grinned.

—--------------

They waited until dark to cross the water. The Spire itself cast some light, but not enough to cancel all of the shadows that were made - they were able to close the distance up against it before too much time had passed. The packs and supplies had been left behind, tucked away safely to allow them to move swiftly and silently. And once they reached the base of the structure, Victor took point, placing a hand against its smooth surface before reaching for Rhisling.

This would be the first time he'd tried a spacebridge so close to itself, and for a moment, he felt some resistance - as if Rhisling itself was fighting him. Perhaps one of those safeguards Primus had once mentioned, but all it was to him right now was a barrier. Grimacing, he tried once more, adding a bit more 'space' between here and there - that did it, its golden shapes forming a hole in the metal and exposing what appeared to be no small amount of electrical wires, tubing, and other structural forms. Soner climbed through first, followed by Victor, and Pravda took the rear in stony silence.

She'd hardly said a word to Victor since his outburst, and shame warred with exasperation. But dwelling on such thoughts would only distract him; already, his heart felt light and warm enough to stave off any damp chill as the spacebridge closed and left them trapped within the Spire's walls. But Soner tugged at Victor's wrist, leading him forwards, and Pravda didn't resist as Victor took her own to create a chain in the near-total darkness. There was just enough light for his vision to make out the shapes, and apparently, Soner's vision was similar; he led the way as they climbed over, up, and through the strange 'terrain'.

Briefly, Victor wondered how he was deciding which way to go - but as Soner abruptly stopped, Victor could hear the warbling sounds of Quintessons, and himself froze as Soner peered through the slats of a vent. After but a moment of hesitation, Victor joined him, trying to make out what they were saying for a few moments before giving up. Soner, on the other hand, seemed to be paying close attention, and Victor next wondered if he actually understood the language.

Curious, if he did. He turned to sight Pravda, but startled when he noticed she was gone. Almost, almost he called her name, but another sound from the Quintessons moving through the hallway kept him silent; instead, he bit his lip, hoping that she was only checking something they'd passed-

-gone off on her own to get lost-

-another thought that felt almost alien. He was having too many of them lately. But he did see movement, now, back towards where they'd been - and a glint of blue he recognized as the soft, Quintesson-created glow of her eyes peering through another series of slats. Touching Soner's shoulder to signal, he began to move back, only whispering once he got close enough he was certain she could hear.

"What are you doing-?"

She turned towards him, then turned back towards the vent. He joined her a moment later, sucking in a sharp breath of surprise as he caught sight of what had gained her attention so.

When Victor had been held in a Spire, he had more or less been kept in a holding pen; a deep depression in the floor where he and his fellow test subjects had been kept when not being directly used. He remembered, too, something like that during initial Processing, but what lay on the other side was completely different. A holding pen of sorts, yes, but larger and almost terrarium-like, an artificial slice of nature that may as well have been cut out from the desert they had crossed and placed right in the Spire itself...

And it was full of Beastmen. 

Some of whom were already looking directly towards the vent itself.

[digitalkorbaxllc]

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Reference

[thalassvphile-blog]

&& mamá || @motherlylion

   [ another day, another mission. the days are all blurring together now, and every day a little part of him yearns to go home. he misses the beach, he misses his world, and most of all misses his parents and his siblings. what he wouldn’t give to see them again... ]

      [ it’s another prisoner rescue today, apparently. the galra seem to have no end to the cells on their ships, and the fact that some of the prisoners kept around are nothing more than experiments makes lance’s blood boil. the sooner the galra empire is destroyed, the better. ]

   [ he grips his bayard firmly, firing off a couple of blasts at the locking mechanism for another cell. he slips in once the door opens, lowering his bayard to show he’s a friendly. it’s then that he catches sight of who is here. ]

      [ lance would know that face anywhere. eyepatch or no, that is without a doubt his mother. ]           [ his bayard dissolves into the smaller version, his arms dropping to his sides. he swallows thickly, clearly confused. ] ...Mamá?

[saeransangel]

My Attention is All Yours

Anonymous asked:

Mikasa x fem reader who is very protective and always has been of Mikasa. When Mikasa gets Eren back, the reader starts to distance herself from Mikasa because Mikasa is very loving towards Eren and the reader feels forgotten 🥺 but Mikasa doesn’t like Eren that way and hates how the reader has almost vanished from her life. They get together in the end. I keep asking writers for this and no one responds. headcanons or a Drabble would be fab!

Canon Verse Mikasa Ackerman x Fem!Reader

A/N: This is such a cute idea. When you said "gets Eren back" I'm assuming you mean when Reiner and Bert snatched him that one time lol so that's what I based it on. I <3 Mikasa sm. She deserves the world tbh anyways here it is!

Summary: After Eren's rescue, all of Mikasa's attention is placed upon Eren. Y/N feels forgotten and starts to distance herself from Mikasa. She thinks her absence goes unnoticed. It doesn't.

CW: light swearing, season 2 spoilers (okay if you haven't seen at least s2 cmon), jealous! reader, slight aggression towards each other **Might be a little longer than a drabble tbh

WC: 1.6k (not proofread yet :p )

Listened to F Song by Strawberry Guy while writing this <3

Ever since you saw Mikasa with Eren the first day of cadet training, you knew she was someone you wanted to get to know. She was effortlessly gorgeous in the way she walked or glided through the air in her ODM gear. When you finally introduced yourself after a few weeks of heavily debating if you should even approach her, she seemed distant at first. But you were persistent and eventually broke down the wall she had put up for everyone else. Eren, Armin, and now, you are the only ones to see the softer side of Mikasa Ackerman.

As time went on you became secretly very protective over Mikasa. The way she would throw herself into dangerous situations in the name of saving Eren had you scrambling after her, running head on into whatever situation was thrown at you. You didn't mind it though. Mikasa was always there to protect her friends. It was only right that someone look out for her too. Not that she really needed it.

Mikasa noticed that wherever she went, you were following close behind. Even in the heat of battle. She deeply appreciated your loyalty. Everytime she got a glance of you covering her in battle or standing up to back her in an argument, she remembered the day you two met in training. You awkwardly smile as you introduced yourself, extending your hand. She remembered taking your hand and feeling how soft and gentle your grip was. You were always someone she could rely on no matter what.

In time the two of you became each other's rock. You did everything together. You were the first person Mikasa actually opened up to. She allowed you to comfort her, though it was rare, but she felt safe being vulnerable with you when she needed it. Sometimes, after a particularly hard day, Eren and Armin would find you and Mikasa fast asleep in one of your beds. Your limbs were tangled with each others and your face was usually buried in her chest with her hand on top of your head.

It was clear there was chemistry between you two, but neither one of you ever talked about it. There was never a definitive label with you and her.

The past few days have been a whirlwind of emotions for everyone in the scouts. Reiner and Bertholdt revealed their true identity as the Armored and Colossal Titan and managed to capture Eren in the process, attempting to bring him back to where they came from. After a brutal fight and losing many comrades, the scouts managed to get Eren and Historia back. Things finally seemed like they were calming down. At last you could take a breath.

After cleaning up, you got dressed and headed back to the bunks. On the way back you ran into Mikasa.

"Hey, how's Eren holding up?" You ask her. You could see her forehead scrunch with worry.

"He's still unconscious. They're hoping he wakes up soon so they can ask him about anything Reiner and Bertholdt may have said while he was with them." She explains.

"I see." You sighed. You were worried about Eren too. Being so close with Mikasa meant you were also close with Eren. You were slightly at ease again knowing he was back under surveillance of the scouts. "Well if you want we can go up to my room and talk?" You asked hopefully. You knew she would probably want to talk about the events that unfolded over the past few days. Hell, you really needed to talk. To be honest, that was the most terrified you'd been in a long time. Going against the Armored Titan, Bertholdt, and Ymir was terrifying within itself, on top of attempting to get Eren and Historia back to safety and not dying, on top of also worrying about Mikasa.

"Thanks, Y/N, but I think I need to stay with Eren for a while. I'm hopeful he will wake up soon and I want to be there when he does." She said, looking back at Eren in the infirmary bed. "I'll stop by later tonight though."

"Alright, I'll see you then." You say, feeling a bit dejected. You went back to your room and sat down on your bed with a long sigh. You tried to pass the time by reading a book that Armin let you borrow.

You got lost in the book and decided you were getting tired. You yawned and set it on your nightstand. You took a glance out the window and noticed that it was now dark. The moon and the clusters of stars littered the sky. it must have been hours since your conversation with Mikasa. You waited up a little longer for her, but no luck. You sighed again and settled on calling it a night.

****

About a week later, and still, you haven't heard anything from Mikasa. You were beginning to worry. Had you done something wrong? You still saw her everywhere. At meals, in squad meetings, and even more training. Just because you saw her didn't mean that you two spoke at all. It was so weird and sudden. You didn't understand what happened. As of recently, she spent all her time with Eren, attached at the hip. You absolutely hated it. Yes of course it was horrifying that Eren got taken so suddenly in what seemed like the biggest betrayal you have ever faced, but he's back now. It was like you didn't exist to her. It was only Eren.

You were growing increasingly jealous as the weeks went on. After a while, it was like you completely erased yourself from her life. The only person that decision seemed to effect was you, seeing as she never reached out to ask what happened over the past month. You began to think your absence went unnoticed.

It did not.

As you were walking through the courtyard, heading into headquarters, you felt a familiar grip on your wrist. You were suddenly pulled back into a grassy corner of the courtyard right next to a few pillars. You whipped your head around to see familiar black locks. You clenched your jaw as you looked into her dark eyes.

"Why does it feel like you just up and walked out of my life?" She asked, aggression lining her voice.

"I could ask you the same thing." You fire back. "Where's Eren? I'm surprised he's not attached to your hip."

She rolls her eyes and gives you a sharp glare, inching closer to you. You could tell she was trying to intimidate you into owning up to why you did what you did, but you weren't budging. "What is your problem, Y/N?" She was really trying to contain her anger with you, but her question came out almost as a growl.

"Nothing. I don't have a problem." You say, tone laced with venom. "I'm perfectly fine with you giving Eren all of you attention. He clearly needs it more than I do. If you don't need me anymore, I don't need you. It's that simple."

You didn't actually mean a single word you just said, but you were so hurt. It felt like she completely forgot about you. What hurt the most is after all that time apart you realized that you had feelings for her, and if she felt that same, she wouldn't be doing this.

Mikasa's eyes widen slightly as you brush past her shoulder walking past her. She quickly turns and grabs your shoulders, spinning you around until your back meets the cold stone of the pillar. Your eyes shut from the harsh impact. As you open them again you see her face is extremely close to yours, breathing heavily. Her hands were shaking as she kept her tight grip on your shoulders.

"You-" she said shakily. "You don't mean that... do you?" Her pleading gaze burning deep into your eyes.

Your face flushed deep red while realizing how close you two were. Her face was inches from yours, her body almost pressing into you. You were speechless; heart thumping loudly as all your previous feelings for her bubbled up. You opened your mouth to object but you closed it again upon seeing her move impossibly close to you.

Her lips ghosted against yours as she towered over you and looked at you with narrowed eyes. "Do you?" Her voice was wavering.

Your eyes fell wide feeling her soft lips barely touching yours as she spoke. This time you moved closer, fully connecting your lips to hers. Your hands moved to drape over her shoulders, deepening the kiss. Her arms on either side of you are still caging you against the pillar. She kissed you shyly at first but slowly eased into it. Your movements were longing and she mimicked the same desperation as she kissed you. It was like you were both making up for lost time.

When you finally pulled apart you rested your forehead against hers, hands tightly gripping her shirt. "No, I didn't mean it." You said breathlessly.

"Good." She said serious as ever. "I need you, Y/N." Though she was looking you in the eyes and putting on a strong face, you could see the slight waver in her stoic expression. It almost made you smile how shy she was in admitting her feelings.

"I need you too, Mikasa. I'm sorry. I just saw how much you were doting on Eren and I got upset. I starting thinking you never felt the same way as I did." You sighed.

Hearing you say that you needed her too sparked something inside her chest that she's never felt before. Without another thought she leaned in for another sweet kiss. This time it didn't start out shy. She knew what she wanted now and it was you. She wanted to show you how much she felt the same way.

"You're the only person I can fully trust no matter what. I love you. My attention is all yours." Her words were confident and reassuring.

You smiled. "I love you too, Mika."

[shmothman]

Judgement | Forgiveness

Chapter 23: Epilogue

Previous Chapters

AO3 Link

Tag list: @veethewriter​

Volo stands, hunched over his desk, half-moon spectacles hanging off his nose, an inkwell precariously balanced on a stack of parchment beside him. His eyes are fever-bright—the way they always are when he’s working—and he’s so absorbed in his task that he doesn’t notice when you enter, a smile already spreading across your face at the sight of him.

“How’s it going?” You ask, and then laugh at the way he startles, somehow not even having heard you cross the room to meet him—though he recovers quickly, giving you a smile that will never not make your heart race, even after all this time.

“Nearly finished,” he says, and the pride in his voice makes you smile all over again. 

The room you’re in—the library, as Volo prefers to call it—is... well, cluttered would be too kind a term. There are innumerable scrolls and pieces of parchment lining every surface, and stacks of books make towers nearly to the ceiling; fragments of pottery, precisely drawn representations of architecture, original scrolls of the old verses you’ve spent so much time gathering, written accounts of every possible myth and legend of the Hisui region—this room is the culmination of all of Volo’s research so far. But what he’s working on now—a carefully bound journal, written and illustrated painstakingly by hand—is perhaps what he feels to be the most important thing he’s done yet: an account of his life, an autobiography of sorts... or, more accurately, a cautionary tale. 

In the time that has come and gone since that day atop Mt. Coronet, Volo has studied, and learned, so much. He has taken notes on every myth and legend, every architectural marvel of his ancestors, every strange phenomena and pokemon that has crossed his path. And all that while, he has sought to make up for the things he did, the near-ruination of the land he loves so much... and the betrayal he inflicted upon you.

But you’ve long since forgiven him. 

Together, you’ve found happiness: both of you chasing your passions, your research, though always returning home to one another, to the home—and the love—that you share.

Meanwhile, life in the nearby Jubilife Village has become ever-busier with each new ship that arrives, bearing people and pokemon who hope to build their home here—and some, with Volo’s straw-blond hair or storm-gray eyes—who have returned to the home of their ancestors, bringing with them news of a mysterious lady who bids a fond hello to her kin... and to her dear little lost one. They take the path from Jubilife to your home—nearly an extension of Canala Avenue, at this point—and follow Volo’s directions to seek the old ruins of Celestica, or the ever-growing and changing clans (when, indeed, the leaders of the clans are not there for a visit themselves), stopping for the night to marvel at Volo’s collection of mythology, and to hear the tales of the Hero of Hisui. Your fire is always warm for those who seek the refuge of a night of story and song.

And when you are not home—when you are in the field, chasing rumors of the rarest of pokemon to capture, to study, to return to Laventon with all you’ve learned—your pokemon, your most loyal companions, keep your garden growing, your hearth lit, your home a place of welcoming. 

It is after one of these such trips that you’ve returned, now, to find your beloved so occupied. 

Wiping spilled ink off of his hand, Volo finally embraces you, lifting you easily off the ground as he presses his lips to yours, and your heart swells. With his arms around your waist, you feel whole—even moreso with his kiss that tastes of sweet berries and summer air and love, always love. Being apart is always difficult... but returning home makes up for the loss. 

Your head is swimming when he finally puts you down, but his cheeks are tinted to match. 

“I’ve missed you,” he says, his smile reverent.

“I missed you, too,” comes your reply. 

With a glance around the room, you can tell how hard he’s been working since you set off on your latest mission: gathering information on the pitch-black pokemon, Darkrai. There are more pieces of art hanging on the walls, more books in piles on the floor, more ink stains on his tunic. Without the insistence of his pokemon, you think that he would forget to eat, sometimes—his work simply takes over his mind. But isn’t his passion one of the things you’ve always loved so much about him?

Mindful of the drying ink, you cross to his desk, taking his book and flipping through the pages, so close to being finished now. It is his penance to the world, and his contribution to it, too. A story of a boy who faced pain and hardship, who found kinship with a pokemon who felt abandoned by its creator. A man who made a pact, who traveled Hisui in search of the ingredients to tear down Arceus from the heavens, to subjugate its power. A man and a pokemon who finally were defeated, cast out, despised... and who found new life out of the ashes. On the cover are embossed the words, ‘On Giratina and the Distortion World’. 

With a proud smile, you return it to its drying position.

“How was your trip?” He asks, staying so very close to your side. 

Your reply is a wide grin, and a hand on the pokeball at your belt.

And Volo’s eyes are alight.

---

The seasons have changed many times since Volo was last here, though he was with you then as he is now. With its pillars like broken spears, poised to pierce the heavens, this place is a reminder of his wrongdoings, yes—but today, it is also a place of hope. The skies above are clear, and the whole of Hisui is spread below the two of you: you are, quite literally, on top of the world.

Volo is nervous; you can feel it in the squeeze of his hand in yours, in the worried set of his mouth. He wears his heart on his sleeve, these days... or, maybe, you’ve simply learned all of his tells. Regardless, you offer him a reassuring smile. You’ve talked about this, planned for it, over and over, waiting until the both of you are ready. 

You are ready now. 

So is he.

“Breathe,” you tell him, and his eyes soften as he looks at you.

He takes one breath, then two, then three.

“Thank you,” he says, and you know he doesn’t just mean for calming him down.

You smile back at him, squeeze his hand in your own—the other clutching tight to the Azure Flute—and together, the two of you take the first step up to the Temple of Sinnoh.

Author’s Note: wow, I can’t believe I’ve finally finished it! It feels like so long since legends arceus came out (and I started this fic pretty soon after haha), but it was really only February, huh? Even with the little hiatus I took before those last two chapters, I really spent a lot of time on this, my very first (finished) longfic. 

I really hope you guys have enjoyed the conclusion! One of the very first things that made me start writing this was the idea of Volo as the founder of the Canalave Library. That, and the scene of him (and you) in the field of daffodils. I’m really glad I was finally able to get those ideas onto paper! (Or. computer screen, as it were.)

There were a lot of things that I didn’t anticipate becoming part of the plot, too—the old verses, for one. I never planned to solve that mystery, so I hope you all can have fun imagining what happens after the conclusion: the adventure is yours, I’m just here to write it down! What I really wanted was to give Volo some redemption, some forgiveness. I hope you all like where I took it!

All that being said, I want to give a HUGE thank-you to everyone who read and left comments—some of you on every chapter! Honestly, your kind words meant the world to me! I can’t really express how much fun it was to interact with everyone who was enjoying the story, and I can’t say thank you enough. I really, really hope you all enjoyed the final chapters—and the whole thing, too haha! 

It’s been so much fun, y’all, and I don’t plan on this being my last Volo fic, so I hope you’ll all stay tuned!

[jaehyunfirstlove]

Pairing: classmate!jaehyun x webcam model!f.reader

Genre: smut (18+ only)

Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, cum play, exhibitionism

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: requested by a lovely anon, hope you like it, and sorry it took so long!

*Disclaimer: I am not well-versed in webcam shows and did my research through wiki so I hope it makes sense :)

“Y/N, you wanna come out for a drink with us tonight?”

The class had just finished and you were packing up your things when Yuna came by to ask you if you wanted to go out with them.

“Sorry guys, I gotta start on that paper tonight.”

“Aw come on, it’s Friday night!” Yuna pouted, but you just shook your head.

“You know me, if I don’t start something right away I’ll procrastinate and wait till the last minute,” you shrugged. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Jaehyun, the guy you’d been crushing on, standing amongst your group of friends. You pulled Yuna closer to you.

“Is Jaehyun going?” you whispered into her ear.

“Uh-huh,” she nodded, a shit-eating grin spreading across her face. “Now you wanna come along, don’t you?”

You were torn. You absolutely would’ve loved the chance to get to know Jaehyun better since you never had a chance during class, and outside of it you were too busy with your studies and your cam shows. But Friday nights were your biggest nights, and if you didn’t stream tonight you’d lose out on a huge payday.

“Ugh, I can’t,” you reluctantly declined, “I’m sorry, guys.”

Yuna just shrugged. “Yeah, you’ll be sorry alright.” She turned around, hooking her arm through Jaehyun’s and pulling him away. She turned back to look at you and smiled innocently, while you just gave her the finger before walking away.

---

“Well, that’s all for tonight everyone, thanks for coming by.”

You saluted the camera and blew a kiss, your signature goodbye, as the last messages in the chat came in wishing you a good night and thanking you for the show. You couldn’t help but notice that one of your favorite viewers, peachyvalentine77, hadn’t joined at all that night. He was one of your best tippers, one of your sweetest and most polite customers, and he almost never missed a show.

You went into the bathroom to get yourself cleaned up, but your mind wandered to Jaehyun, wondering what he was doing while out with your friends. You knew Yuna had just been teasing you by linking arms with him, it was her way of trying to persuade you and on any other day it would have worked. As it was, you’d made a killing tonight, all of the money you made paying for the astronomical fees your college was charging you. If it weren’t for your cam shows, you wouldn’t have been able to afford to go to college in the first place.

Sighing to yourself, you went about thinking what Jaehyun must be like, if he was as sweet as he seemed, while you decided to paint your nails a vivid blue. You wondered mindlessly if Jaehyun liked blue, if he maybe thought your hands were pretty, or most importantly, what he might think if he found out you were a cam girl.

---

Saturday nights were your next busiest nights, and you were pleased to see peachyvalentine77 sign on like he normally did.

Pv77: hi gorgeous

Me: oh you’re here! Missed you yesterday

Pv77: sorry had plans

Pv77: missed you though

He sent more messages throughout the show like he always did, praising you and showering you with compliments. He also tipped really well, as usual, right up until the show ended.

Pv77: i’ll see you again soon gorgeous

Pv77: and i love your nails btw

Pv77: blue is my fav color :)

You smiled at his message, happy to have impressed him.

---

The following Monday you were exhausted in class, your friends thinking you were studying too hard but really it was too many late night cam shows. You noticed Jaehyun looking at you curiously, and you figured you must have looked really bad for him to notice. He kept glancing at you during class, and oddly enough, kept staring at your fingers. When class was over, you were packing up your stuff slowly, your energy lagging, when he came up to you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he greeted you, and you were slightly shocked that he knew your name, but you figured Yuna had probably told him.

“Hi, Jaehyun,” you answered, somewhat shyly because he was looking at you quite intensely.

“Can I… ask you a question?” he was hesitant in how he asked, but his eyes felt like they were boring into your face.

“Sure,” you answered, wondering what he was going to ask you, and feeling very self-conscious with the way he was looking at you.

“By the way,” he started casually, pointing to your nails, “blue is my favorite color.”

You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks, as his gaze slowly went from your nails to your face. You knew then you were caught, and you looked at each other in shocked surprise.

“You’re… peachyvalentine77?” you whispered, your hand going up to your mouth.

“And you’re Y/N-cam?” the look of shock on his face slowly changed as his suspicion was confirmed, a wide smile spreading that made his dimples extra deep. “Oh wow, I can’t believe it.”

Mortification quickly took over, as you realized you had just been found out, by your crush no less. You couldn’t have him spreading this news, especially to your friend group.

“Oh my god, Jaehyun, you can’t tell anyone about this!” you started to plead with him, putting your hands together in a supplicating gesture.

He looked at you quizzically, before a slow smile spread across his face. “Absolutely, my lips are sealed.” He made the motion of zipping up his lips but not before he looked at you with a sly grin. “But…”

“But what?” you didn’t like where this was going, the look on his face starting to alarm you.

“But my silence comes at a price.”

You knew it, you knew it was too good to be true, your good fortune had run out and now you were going to be blackmailed, by the one guy you were hoping to date. You were too busy calculating how many more shows you had to do to be able to pay him when you realized he was looking at you expectantly.

“Okay, what’s your price,” you sighed, willing to pay anything to have your secret kept.

“Well, I was actually thinking of something that would benefit both of us,” he began, and he really got your attention then. You looked at him to see if he was playing with you, but he had a pretty sincere, if a little mischievous, look on his face.

“And what’s that?” you asked suspiciously.

He leaned in closer, and at that distance you could see the gold specks amongst the brown of his irises, and smell the heady scent of his cologne. “How about we do a show… together.”

You blinked a few times, unsure if you heard him correctly, but he was still regarding you questioningly. “Are you serious, Jaehyun? Don’t joke about this stuff.”

He looked taken aback. “Of course I’m serious. I think we should do a show together.”

“Like have sex? On camera?” you clarified, and he nodded, smiling at your realization. You thought about it, while looking at his gorgeous face, and all of a sudden you were thinking about how he would feel inside you and just like that your pussy made your decision for you.

“Okay, I’m in.”

---

Jaehyun came over on a Friday night, easily your busiest night, and therefore he figured you’d make a killing if you had sex on camera. He showed up at your place looking, and smelling, absolutely delicious, and you almost wanted to jump his bones right then and there and forget about the cam show altogether. But he was perfectly professional, helping you set up the camera and lighting to get everything just right.

“Ready?” you asked, when there was nothing left to do but start the show. You couldn’t help but be nervous, since it was your first time having sex on camera, and your first time having sex with Jaehyun. He noticed your apprehension, taking your hand and squeezing it reassuringly.

“I’m ready,” he responded, looking you in the eye, “I got you, okay? Anytime you want to stop, just squeeze my hand, okay?” He squeezed your hand to demonstrate what you should do, and you nodded, grateful for his understanding.

“Okay, here we go.” You started the camera, and did your customary greeting. You noticed people logging into the chat, and once you had a good number going you made your announcement.

“Everyone, today is a special show, since we have a special guest.” You held out your hand, and Jaehyun joined you, the camera set up so your faces wouldn’t be shown. “This is my friend, we’ll call him Jay.”

The chat lit up, and tips started to pour in, no doubt in anticipation of what was to come. You and Jaehyun shared surprised yet satisfied looks.

“I’m sure you’ve all guessed what’s going to happen today, so let’s get to it.” You led Jaehyun to the bed, and positioned yourselves so that the camera wouldn’t capture your faces.

“Are you ready?” he whispered in your ear, while rubbing your sides gently with his hands. His touch ignited something in you, and you nodded, biting your lip as you got into position. “I’ll go slow.”

You were wearing crotchless panties, so all he had to do was reach down between your legs, rubbing your pussy with his fingers. He groaned when he found you wet, and the sound just made you want him more, your hands coming up to grip his arms as he fingered you.

“Mmm,” you moaned, already losing yourself to his touch. You noticed the prominent bulge in his Calvin Kleins, so you rubbed him over the fabric, eliciting more beautiful sounds from his mouth. 

“Oh god, Jay, I need you inside me right now.” You had wanted to go slow, you had meant to go slow, but he was driving you crazy with how sexy he was. You took a glance at the screen and saw the tips still pouring in.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, “I was thinking we should drag this out.”

“I can’t,” you responded honestly, “I just really want you to fuck me right now.”

His eyes grew dark at your admission, and he removed his fingers from you, pulling his boxers down and pumping his cock as he stared down at you. You bit your lip as you watched him, everything in slow motion as he knelt between your legs and placed the tip of his cock at your entrance. You took a moment to look over at the monitor, tips lighting up the screen, as his cock parted you. 

Your mouth opened in a wordless scream, back arching off the bed as he entered you, his size not something your body was accustomed to. You grasped at the sheets, as he inched slowly inside you, his face intense as he watched your reaction.

“Can you take my cock?” he asked, voice husky, and you could only nod, “you’re so fucking tight, but your pussy is taking me so well.”

His dirty talk was heightening your arousal, and you couldn’t help but squeeze him, the walls of your pussy contracting around his cock. He hissed at the feeling, before he bottomed out with one hard thrust.

You screamed, clutching to the sheets as he started to pound into you, grunting with each thrust.

“You like it, baby?” he groaned, “show everyone how much you like my cock.”

You moaned and thrashed, the pleasure he was giving you sending you into a frenzy. “Oh, oh fuck, yes, yes, your cock feels so good inside me.” You had a vague notion that you were probably blabbering, but the way he was rutting into you was making you crazy.

“Jay! Oh my god, yes! Just like that, fuck me just like that,” you went on, grabbing onto his back now and digging your nails in as he fucked you, the bed shaking from his harsh thrusts.

“You’re so good for me, baby, your pussy was made for me,” he cooed, reaching down to squeeze your breasts over the lace of your bra. You moaned when he pulled the fabric down and pinched your nipple, moaned louder when he tugged lightly on the hardened bud. “So good,” he whispered, ducking his head down quickly so he could suck on your nipple, making sure his face couldn’t be seen on camera.

You moaned even louder when he tugged at your nipple lightly with his teeth, all while pounding into you at an insane pace.

“Jay, you’re gonna make me come,” you moaned, your entire body tingling as you felt your orgasm build up.

“You’re gonna come for me, come all over my cock,” he growled, rubbing at your clit now with his thumb. It was enough, sending you crashing, your limbs convulsing as you came, pussy pulsing around him. He groaned deep within his chest, then pulled out when you were done, pumping his cum all over your stomach.

You’d almost forgotten about the camera, wanting to just pull him down and kiss him until he was breathless, but you suddenly remembered, sparing a look at the screen. The tips were continuing to pour in, and you couldn’t help but smile up at him.

“So your idea worked,” you whispered at him, and he smiled at you.

“Told you it would,” he responded, winking at you before he leaned over and shut the camera off, leaning down to capture your lips in his.

[pandas-pandemonium]

Yandere! Sentient! Twst - Player considers deleting the game due to glitches (Dorm Leaders)

A/N: Thought I'd combine these three asks since they're all quite similar in nature.

"[Name], I really think you should just delete that game off your phone."

The sternness in your partner's voice stunned you. They had mentioned the game acting strange at times, but this was the first time they had confronted you on this issue. Confused, you spoke up.

"Is this about the weird glitches again, [S/O]?" you asked.

"Yes, this is about those weird glitches. I swear, this isn't some simple bug or anything. This is another thing entirely. A game character doesn't curse at you just for opening the app. Shouldn't it be some welcome line or something?"

You frowned.

"I've never heard anything like that..." you said.

They sighed and shook their head. "It only happens when I open the app when you ask me to help you login."

You felt a chill run down your back.

"There's...no way, right?" you said, as you slowly unlocked your phone, immediately clicking on the application. You had to see it for your own, even though deep down you knew [s/o] was right. The game had been acting strange. Comments that were way too specific, the occasional glitching when you switched out a character for another.

With wary eyes you glanced at the opening screen; one more check, one more log in and if anything weird happens again, you will have to delete it. Sentimentality and story progress be damned. You could always watch videos on YouTube anyway.

Riddle

Livid. Riddle would be absolutely livid to hear the suggestion of you deleting the game.

"How DARE they! How insolent! They think know so much better, now do they?!"

Storming around, Riddle would be figuring out how to "chop off" your significant other's head. He won't have it!

He's put up with the fact that you're in a relationship because he convinced himself it wouldn't last long, but now this is the last straw.

"They're trying to cut me off from [Name]! For that, they WILL pay!"

But first, he has to make sure things run smoothly.

You won't delete the game if nothing odd happens...

With that, [s/o] will just look like a liar. How awful!

Once Riddle's calmed down, he will start creating a plan to cut your s/o out of your life, forever.

"I simply will not tolerate a rule breaker, and it so happens, Rule #444 states that "the heads of liars must be chopped off by midnight". That's really too bad, isn't it, [s/o's name]?"

Leona

What's this? You're actually listening to your partner and now you want to delete the game?

He would love to see you try

Sure, he could sit back and pretend that the game is all fine and dandy so that you'll think your partner was lying and being petty, but that's boring, even if it is the easier way

You forget, he's the dorm leader of Savannaclaw; known for his drive to do what it takes to get his way

Don't you remember his plan from Chapter 2?

How offensive. [s/o name] is definitely taking way too much of your time if you managed to forget his role in the story

"You want to delete the app, do you? Then try it, herbivore. I'm sure you love what I've done to your phone."

Leona is smart, dangerously so. Whoever knew Savannaclaw's dorm leader was so well-versed with game code?

Azul

What?! You're going to delete the game?!

Panic surges through Azul as he combs through various alternate plans; it's okay, he's considered this possibility before

All he needs to do is craft a perfect plan to keep you from deleting the application, and to get that pesky human away from you!

It should be simple enough, but his fear clouds his judgment

Right, right! He has to address the immediate concern; that you were going to delete if you sensed something amiss again in the app

That's simple enough.

As long as he plays by the rules and keeps to the "character" the game developers originally intended, he'll be able to delay you, just by a few days

With a practiced smile, and lines that fit perfectly to script, he laughs to himself quietly;

Yes, you seem to be confused for nothing is out of place!

He may have to keep up this constricting act for now, but his plan has to be perfect if he's going to capture you.

Kalim

Oh, the poor boy

He's panicking! His mind is all over the place the moment he heard your words!

Thankfully Jamil is there to set him straight

"Act normal" Jamil instructed him.

Easier said than done, especially when it comes to someone as jumpy and excitable as Kalim

Kalim tries not to laugh a little too loudly or make remarks that shouldn't be in his lines, but it's so hard!

He wants to yell out, "You can't! You can't leave me!"

But his fear of you realizing that the game is no longer working as it should overpowers his desire to call out to you

It's so hard...

Maybe tomorrow he can tell you how he feels! You're sure to have calmed down by then!

Vil

Really now?

You were going to delete the game all because someone told you to? You're willing to sacrifice all that hard work raising his everyone's cards and throw them all away?

Preposterous!

He will not let even your finger touch the uninstall button! Ever.

Gaining sentience was a dream come true!

He too, had been working behind the scenes to find ways to bring you into this world.

Your lover? You mean that useless potato scrap that thinks they know better?

They mean nothing to Vil. After all, surely you would choose a queen over some peasant?

Idia

Strangely enough, he's not too worried.

Seriously, gaining Fourth Wall breaking sentience was like something out of an anime or a game!

This is his realm! You can't possibly do anything to it when he's tampered so much with the game code!

Try it!

You'll find your game uninstallable and registered as a default application for your phone!

Idia feels a little too proud of himself for forseeing this possibility. He's never been so prepared in his life!

"Hihihi, it's all in place! So what if the game continues glitching? You can't do anything about it! Hihihi, who would have thought even some shut-in nobody freak like me can do cool things!"

But right- he almost forgot about your partner...

How annoying. Game code he can deal with, but some irl person? No way...

"Ahh, what a pain... I need to hurry up with the program...then maybe you can leave that dumb normie behind..."

Malleus

You want to delete the game because it's acting weird, you say?

Malleus is disappointed; he was hoping he could enjoy your presence and watching you go about your daily life for a little longer.

It's alright though, he just has to speed things up a bit!

He could care less about you deleting the game;

With Lilia's help, he's found a way to creep in to your phone and has since been existing as an undetectable character within several other applications.

A little longer and he's completely certain his magic will be able to transport into your world.

How exciting!

When he does, he hopes you will celebrate with him as well.

If you won't invite him to your world... well, he'll just have to invite himself, wouldn't he?

[writing-by-gayrainbowbridge]

Keep Fighting

Inspiration From This Lovely Prompt By murdermuffinkink:

Loki and Tony are in abusive relationships with each of their partners. Loki had long since given up on getting out of his own but when he sees Tony still struggling and fighting against Steve, he decides that if he can't get out of his own abusive relationship with Thor, he can at least help Tony get out of his.

⚠️Warnings: Abusive Relationship(s), Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con, Omega Verse, Self Harm, Suicide Attempt, Etc.⚠️

Enjoy 💚❤

Loki had given up nearly two hundred years ago in getting away from Thor. He tried many times but Thor had a tight hold on his leash, never letting Loki get far.

So, after what felt like a thousand years of fighting his relationship with Thor, he finally gave up and gave in, simply letting it happen. At least it was less painful when he was pliant and obedient.

When he had fallen from the Bifrost, he had thought for a minute, maybe he could finally be free. Free of Thor and all the hurt he'd caused. But it was never so easy for him.

Thor managed to get his hands back on Loki after he lost during the attack on New York. Thor was determined to never let Loki slip away again, using Loki's 'evil villain' status as an excuse to restrict Loki's magic to the point that it was barely there anymore.

Loki didn't tell anyone of how he was tortured for months and forced to attack Midgard. Who would believe him?

For a minute, Loki had been glad he lost. It was always the plan to lose, to be captured by the Avengers and taken back to Asgard and thrown in a cell. At least then, Thor wouldn't be able to touch him again.

But Thor never ended up taking him back to Asgard. He had instead asked Steve Rogers, the leader of the Avengers group if Loki could stay on Midgard.

Thor had played all teary eyed, telling the Avengers how he knew Loki was good inside, how he just needed some time to remember who he was. Not that Loki could forget. He remembered who he was before Thor had taken his whole world and freedom away from him. There had never been a choice for him.

Steve had agreed to let Loki stay, apparently moved by Thor caring so much for the wayward villain, so long as it was at the Tower where the Avengers could keep an eye on him.

They figured out soon enough why that was, how Thor cared for Loki as a lover. It sickened Loki that the Avengers didn't have a problem with it, that it was completely fine.

Sometimes, Loki had dark thoughts. Sometimes he wondered what would happen if he simply ended it all. Would anyone notice? Would anyone care? He was sure Thor would but that wasn't because he cared. He would only be upset that he lost his favourite toy.

The only reason Loki hadn't tried was because one, it was ridiculously hard to kill himself, not because he wasn't able to go through with it but because he was a god. God's were terribly hard to kill. Loki would know. He'd tried to kill Thor hundreds of times before. Never mind how many times he'd tried to kill himself.

And two was because of a certain mortal genius.

Loki wasn't sure at first what it was about Tony Stark that drew him. Sure, Tony was rather handsome and very intelligent for a mortal but there was something else about him that Loki...related to. The nearly defeated look in his eyes that were always cast towards the floor.

It wasn't until Loki saw Tony with Steve that he understood what it was that drew him.

It was early in the morning, Loki always getting up before Thor, (because if he didn't, he would end up under Thor for the rest of the morning) sitting at the kitchen table. Loki didn't speak to the other Avengers much, opting to pretend he was too tired to talk so he didn't have to converse with anyone. Nor, he thought, did any of them want to.

Steve was making everyone breakfast like he did every morning, Natasha and Clint talking to one another. Bruce wasn't yet awake and Tony was a wild card. He could still be asleep or he could have been holed up in his lab, getting no sleep the entire night.

Apparently the latter as Tony arrived a little while later as Steve was serving up breakfast, Tony looking bleary eyed as he made a beeline for the coffee machine.

Steve turned his head, watching with a frown as Tony poured himself a mug. "You didn't come to bed last night."

"I got busy," Tony said with a slight shrug, giving Steve a gentle smile. "Did you miss me, Captain?"

Steve frowned disapprovingly. "I'm being serious, Tony. I told you not to be in the lab all the time."

Tony sighed as he filled a mug. "I've been getting plenty of sleep, alright? Relax, Stevie, I'm fine."

"Tony," Steve said, his tone taking on a slightly warning edge, stepping closer to the genius.

Loki was the only one who saw Tony flinch, eyes flicking down to the floor. "I'll try not to go in the lab so much, okay?"

"Good," Steve said with a nod, a smile suddenly on his face at Tony's agreement. "Want some breakfast?"

Loki glanced at Tony who wasn't smiling, eyes down at his drink as he nodded his head. Tony looked up at the others, almost like he was checking to see if anyone had noticed and frowned when he saw Loki watching him.

But Loki didn't look away and neither did Tony. Not until strong arms suddenly wrapped around Loki from behind and a voice spoke in his ear. "There you are, Loki."

Loki didn't greet Thor back, instead tearing his gaze from Tony's as he looked pointedly back at his plate of untouched food.

After that, Loki continued to watch how Tony acted around Steve. He was always defiant at first, always arguing with whatever Steve told him but as soon as Steve made one threatening movement, so subtle that nobody but Loki noticed, Tony would immediately shut up and agree with whatever Steve had said.

There was a difference between him and Tony though. Tony was clearly still fighting back whereas Loki had already given up.

It was...refreshing though it hurt, reminding Loki of a time he used to fight back too. He didn't want to see Tony suffer how he did but he didn't know how he was meant to help without alerting Thor or even Steve to what he was doing.

But Loki would try to help Tony fight.

Because if he couldn't save himself, he could at least try and save Tony.

...

Tony wished he could get away from Steve sometimes. That he could simply leave.

But he couldn't. Nobody would listen to an Omega complain about how their Alpha abused them. Abused Omega's were always ignored, told that they were overreacting, that they were too soft and couldn't handle a little pressure.

Of course, he could always just kick Steve out of the Tower, make him leave. But that could cause more problems than Tony wanted to deal with. Fury would have his hide if he pulled something like that. As much as Tony didn't want to admit it, the world needed Captain America.

So Tony gritted his teeth and pushed through it. Besides, it wasn't so bad. Steve could get angry and a little too rough sometimes but it wasn't anything that Tony couldn't deal with.

And it had been fine until he realized he wasn't the only one who was being forced into a relationship he didn't want.

Jarvis had brought it to his attention, how Loki didn't eat much, barely got enough sleep and was constantly injured in some way.

Tony, despite being a genius, had been a little slow on trying to figure out how and why Loki was getting so hurt when all he did was lounge around the Tower.

But then he thought of Thor, how the god was always hovering over Loki. At least, Tony had assumed it was because he didn't want Loki getting up to no good. But it had been months since the attack and Loki hadn't tried to do a single evil thing in all that time.

It made Tony wonder if Loki was really that evil to begin with. For a guy apparently hellbent on ruling Earth, he had given up pretty damn easy, barely putting up a fight when Thor cuffed him. Almost like he had wanted to lose.

But that hadn't been the point. The point had been Loki getting hurt and as much as Loki was a villain, Tony didn't like people getting hurt under his roof.

It didn't take much snooping for Tony to figure out how Loki was getting himself hurt. Or more, who was getting Loki hurt.

Tony hated it but he knew there was nothing he could really do. He had gone up against Thor before with his suit and if Steve hadn't stepped in, he wasn't sure what would have happened.

Besides, it wasn't like Tony was in a better position. Steve would be furious if he found out Tony was taking a villains side or say he was being influenced somehow.

Still, Tony wished he could punch Thor and make it hurt.

But what was one little Omega going to do against a literal god? How could he help Loki when he could barely help himself?

...

"What were you thinking, Tony?!"

"I just—"

"That's right! You weren't thinking, were you?"

Loki watched along with the other Avengers as Tony was shouted at by Steve, doing nothing to stop it. Apparently the mission had gone sideways and Tony had nearly gotten himself extremely hurt, throwing himself into the line of fire to protect one of the others.

Loki wasn't sure why Steve was so upset. They were superheroes, weren't they? It was their job to protect and if they got hurt, that was a part of the risk.

Of course, Loki hadn't been there to see it for himself. He wasn't trusted to go on missions with the Avengers (nor did he want to) so he had to stay at the Tower with Thor watching him. Only, Thor did a lot more than simply watch him. His hips were already bruising from the blond's harsh grip.

Tony was staring at the floor now, not even trying to defend himself as Steve lectured on and on. Nobody said anything until Steve finally finished, taking a breather.

"Come on, Tony," Steve said finally, grabbing Tony's wrists in a too tight grip and dragged him to the elevator before anyone, even Tony, could get a word out.

Loki watched them go, fingers twitching in his lap, itching to race after the pair and yank Tony away from Steve but he couldn't. Without his magic, he was useless to help. All it would do was make Steve angrier and Thor would be even less impressed.

Loki saw Tony later in the day. Loki was on the couch, reading a book. Thor was thankfully down in the gym training and had ordered Loki to stay in their room.

Of course, Loki hadn't listened. Just because he had given up on getting away from Thor, it didn't mean he listened to everything the Thunder god demanded of him.

So when Tony walked into the kitchen for coffee, Loki watched the slight limp the mortal sported with narrowed green eyes.

As if knowing he was being watched, Tony turned his head, looking surprised to see Loki sitting on the couch. "Oh, hi Lokes. I didn't think anyone would be out here."

Loki raised an eyebrow, glancing at Tony's wrists and noted the bruises ringing around each one, just barely hidden beneath his long sleeved shirt. "You sound disappointed."

"No, I'm not, I just..." Tony sighed. "Never mind."

Loki frowned slightly, sitting up a little straighter. "Steve has been...treating you right lately?"

Tony stared at him, eyes going a little wide. "Excuse you."

Loki looked pointedly at Tony's wrists making the genius glance down at them and pale, quickly tugging the sleeves down.

Loki sighed, shaking his head. "Why do you put up with it? You could leave him."

Tony looked up at him, still looking rather pale though almost angry but it didn't seem to be directed at Loki. "Like you with Thor?"

Loki gave Tony a surprised look. He didn't think anyone had realized what Thor did to him.

"Jarvis," Tony said simply in explanation.

Loki pressed his lips into a thin line. "That's different."

"How exactly?" Tony asked, setting his mug on the kitchen bench as he walked over to Loki.

Loki glared at him for a moment but he wasn't angry. Just...upset. He thought Tony would understand.

But then, Tony hadn't given up like he had.

"You wouldn't understand," Loki whispered. "Nor do I want you to."

Tony's expression became a little sad, almost as if he did understand. Loki couldn't look at him as Tony sat beside him, gently leaning into the god who after a long minute, did the same.

Maybe Loki couldn't help Tony as much as he hoped but he could still do small things like this to show Tony he wasn't alone.

Or maybe Loki simply liked feeling that he wasn't alone himself.

...

Tony felt like he was minutes away from breaking down, constantly on the verge of tears as he did what he needed to throughout the day.

Steve had done something unforgivable last night. Tony could barely look at him the whole day though Steve had kept his distance. He didn't know why he was so surprised since Steve seemed to have no problem hitting him and yelling at him but this...

Tony had said no, had told him to stop and Steve...Steve just...

Steve raped him.

Oh god's, he was going to be sick—

"Anthony?"

Tony forced his slightly watery eyes up to meet those green ones he knew belonged to Loki. "O-oh. Hey, Lokes."

Loki frowned deeply, taking in Tony's tearful brown eyes. "What happened?"

Tony swallowed repeatedly, trying and failing to form words. How could he even begin to explain?

But Loki...Loki would understand. Loki knew what it was like...to be...to be...

A sob burst past Tony's lips before he could stop it and in one second and the next, he was gathered up in Loki's arms, held tight against the god's chest as Tony trembled, tears falling down his cheeks.

Loki didn't ask, didn't force Tony to talk. He didn't need to. Tony was sure Loki already figured it out on his own.

Loki didn't let him go though.

...

After that, Loki and Tony looked out for each other.

Whenever Loki came from the room he shared with Thor, bruises all over his aching body, Tony was there, offering to watch a movie together or hang out with him in the safety of his lab. It was either a distraction from the pain or a way to get away from Thor without him realizing it.

And when Tony came back after an argument with Steve or walked into the kitchen looking so pale that Loki barely had to guess what had happened, Loki would be there to pull the genius into his arms and hold him tight, letting him break down in his arms.

They both hid the abuse they endured from the others, either afraid of being judged as weak and pathetic or worried the others would think they deserved it and contribute to the abuse.

But they didn't mind so much because they had one another to keep each other from falling into their dark thoughts.

It took a while for both of them to realize that despite their situation, despite being in a relationship (even if it wasn't one they wanted) and despite both being Omega's, they wanted each other.

Tony realized first, Loki still being in denial, not because he didn't want Tony, much the opposite, but because he knew it would lead nowhere. If Thor found out he had feelings for someone else, Tony would be in danger of Thor. Loki couldn't do that to him.

It still didn't stop Loki from one day kissing Tony in the privacy of his lab, wishing things were different.

...

Loki knew he was going to get into trouble. If Thor caught him...

But it didn't matter. He didn't care anymore. He'd stopped caring about his own pain a long time ago.

Especially since the dagger was slowly bloodying his wrists. No, he wasn't trying to kill himself. There was no point. This wouldn't be enough to kill himself. Blood loss was nothing for a god.

But it was enough to cut through the magic restraints on his wrists.

Why would Loki risk Thor's wrath if he caught Loki doing this?

Because he had passed by Tony's room earlier in the day, had heard him scream and something in Loki ripped apart at the sound, making him throw all caution to the wind.

So he had gone through Thor's things, finding the enchanted daggers that Thor had taken from Loki and used them to cut the restraints off, ignoring whenever it cut into his skin. The pain was nothing to knowing that Tony was in danger from his Alpha.

As soon as he was free of the bands, he teleported from his room to Tony's, not caring for what he might find, only caring about protecting Tony, keeping Tony safe.

But surprisingly, he didn't find Steve there, towering over Tony. Though Tony was clearly not okay.

"Anthony," Loki whispered, kneeling down in front of the figure shaking at the foot of the bed on the floor. "Anthony, Darling, look at me."

Tony wouldn't meet his eyes though, legs against his chest. Loki took comfort in the fact that Tony was clothed though it didn't mean much. If it had happened again, Tony simply could have redressed himself before Loki arrived.

But that wasn't the case. Loki knew because he soon saw the cuts on Tony's wrists and felt his stomach lurch uncomfortably. Tony had tried to kill himself.

"Oh, Anthony, no..." Loki whispered, grimacing at the blood on Tony's hands.

"He s-saw it," Tony stuttered out, shivering slightly. "He saw it and h-he got angry and grabbed m-my wrists and i-it opened back u-up and he h-hit me and...and..."

"Sh, sh. Hush, Anthony," Loki murmured, taking Tony's hands, ignoring the blood over them.

Tony sobbed, shaking his head, trying in vain to tug his hands back. "I can't do it anymore. I c-can't, please, Loki. I don't want him to t-touch me anymore."

Loki's heart broke, remember thinking the same thing two hundred years ago. "You don't have to do this anymore, I swear it."

Tears streaked Tony's face as he continued shaking his head, shivering and muttering under his breath. "There's n-nowhere we c-can g-go and I can't l-leave you h-here with h-him."

Loki had been wondering why Tony hadn't simply got up and left yet despite all of Steve's abuse. Now that he knew why, he both wanted to hug Tony and call him an idiot.

"You won't be leaving me here with him," Loki said, gently brushing his fingers over the cut and was relieved to see his magic working to heal the self inflicted wound. "In fact, you're coming with me, off of this realm entirely."

Tony stared with wide eyes at the newly healed skin, then up at Loki. "You have you're m-magic back? How? W-when?

"About five minutes ago," Loki stated plainly. "Do you want to leave with me, Anthony?"

Tony took a shaky breath, nodding his head. "P-please."

That was all Loki needed to tighten his grip on Tony's hand, pulling him into his waiting arms, pressing his lips to Tony's like he'd been yearning to do since the first time in the lab.

He remembered the words Tony had told him that day after their kiss, echoing in his head now.

'Keep fighting, Loki. Keep fighting because you're all that's stopping me from giving up. Keep fighting for me.'

And Loki had. He had but now...now they didn't have to fight anymore.

In one moment and the next, the pair vanished from the floor of Tony's room and reappeared somewhere far away where neither of them could ever be hurt by any Alpha ever again.

...

@murdermuffinloki I was going to add Bucky into this but then I'd end up writing a whole damn book and I have enough to write as it is but I just couldn't resist writing a oneshot for this, hsusyjwdj. Hope you enjoyed! :D

[parkers-gal]

Heyy, i hope you are amazing and getting enough sleep and drinking enough water. But for the sleepover Can you have Tom and his brothers or cast mates reacting to readers (Ariana Grande) new video “34+35”. It doesn’t have to be smut seeing as how you don’t want to write smut.

i have a blurb where this is included in it, but if you want me to rewrite it you can send in the request again <3

requests are open

—

wc: 1.1k

Though Tom had helped you on some of the lyrics for the current tracks for your new studio album, he'd yet to hear any finished results or melodies (which was probably a good thing considering he started humming "needy," during a comic con event). 

You, as well as several of your friends from the studio, were gathered in Tom's living room, everyone spread out on their own seats. You were slightly nervous, worried about how the boys would react from your sudden switch from pop to R&B. 

"Ten minutes!" Harrison hollered from the kitchen, and a series of cheers went around as everyone continued what they were doing. It was a ritual, basically, to be together on release night like it was a New Year's countdown. Every new release meant the boys had something new to hear, so you also spent time going through each track and letting them decipher it as they pleased. 

An album was no different. 

Now, they'd already heard your leading single "positions," and you had to admit, their reactions when the words left your mouth were absolutely hilarious. 

You recalled the memory:

"Wait- what?" 

"Jesus Christ, Tom, you've turned her into a sex addict," Harry concluded. 

"I have- I have not!" 

You giggled, patting his shoulder while he processed the information. 

"Okay if it's not about sex then what's it about?" Harrison asked. 

You rolled your eyes, "I never said it wasn't about sex." 

"Oh," they concluded, each of their eyes widening. 

"I swear to god, Y/N, if you name drop me like you did Pete and Ri-'

"I didn't name drop anyone!" you laughed at him, hoping to relax him a little. "Tommy it's not like you're explicitly mentioned to be the inspiration. You just happen to have caused the lyrics, 's all." 

"That's gross," Harry interrupted. 

"Yeah, we don't need to hear about how much you love Tom's web shooter." 

___

"Five minutes!" Harrison shouted again. 

Tom had just returned from the kitchen, a fresh beer in his hand. He was coming over to you, sitting down softly and pulling you into his side, kissing your temple as you hummed. You intertwined your fingers, and he chuckled, giving your knuckles a kiss too. 

"You ready, love?"

"I think the question is 'are you ready?'" 

The two of you laughed just as Harrison and Harry had finally sat in their seats. They'd connected three wireless speakers to your phone, where you'd play the album for them for the first time. 

"Two minutes."

Tom looked down to you with a proud smile, and you pinched his cheeks. You found out later that Harry had captured the moment on film. 

Now, everyone was counting down the seconds, you included. Everyone was shouting excitedly, and you couldn't help but smile at the entire image. 

"Okay, okay," you quieted everyone. "Track number one: shut up. Are we ready?"

"Hell yeah," Harry raised his beer. 

"Hit it muchacha!"

You laughed, clicking the song. 

As the intro started, you saw each of their expressions. The beginning was sort of Disney-like, and quite easy to reminisce about childhood films. However, their expressions quickly changed once your voice rang through. 

You looked to Victoria with a satisfied grin, Tom's mouth agape and Harry's eyes wide as he tried not to spit out his beer.

"Guess it fuckin' just clicked one night," you sang along perfectly. 

Sam barely swallowed his drink before he spoke first. "Holy shit," he laughed. 

When the song ended, you paused the music, glancing to their faces in anticipation for one of them to speak first. 

"Well?" you smiled nervously. 

"It's quite.. Disney?"

"Yeah.." Harrison agreed with Sam. "But also very straight forward and holy shit you weren't playin' around."

"I quite like it," Tuwaine admitted. "It's very catchy."

"Okay, time for track two: 34+35."

"Oh man," Tom replied to you, putting his drink on the coffee table. "I've been dying to hear this one."

"Or at least know what it's about," Harry added. 

You rolled your eyes with a knowing-grin, clicking the track. They were quiet just as it started, but by the fourth line of verse one, they had finally figured out what it was about. 

"Fuck me till the daylight!" You sang, and Tom looked like he'd just wet his pants. 

"Baby you might need a seat belt when I ride it," you laughed with Tayla. 

Tuwaine seemed thoroughly amused by their reactions, playfully dancing along to the song. When the track came to a close, the realization seemed to have struck them just as you hummed out:

"Means I wanna 69 with ya... noooooo, shit." 

As you paused the song before the next track, Harrison was turning towards Tom with an open mouth, finger pointed to you. He wasn't forming words, and you giggled at them, encouraging them. 

"C'mon! Tell me what you think!" 

"I believe you when you said Tom is kinky," Harry deadpanned. 

Tom jutted his lip out, scrunching his brows together. "I am not! I have normal kinks!"

"I don't think 69 is a kink," Harrison concluded. 

"Or common," Sam pointed out. 

You laughed again, interrupting them. "It's not about Tom," you confessed. 

It was Tom's turn to look at you with wide eyes. "Are you just doing 69 with other gentlemen then?" 

"N-no," You spoke during laughs. "It's not from personal experience."

The five of them "oh'ed" and you laughed again with a nod. 

Forty minutes later and you were listening to the last track of the album, sad that it came so soon. 

"Ready?" 

"Let's do it," Harrison chugged the rest of his beer. Tom snuggled closer into your side and you kissed his cheek before pressing play. 

During this track, the boys didn't talk at all, which was peculiar to you. They didn't even react until you spoke once it ended. 

"Well? You guys were awful quiet? Do you like it-"

"It's really pretty," Tom confessed, a blush adorned on his cheek. 

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "It's almost soft compared to the rest." 

You nodded along, "Yeah, I'd think so too." 

"Who's it about?" Sam asked.  Your eyebrows went up, and he 'surrendered.'

"Well then," Harry stood up. "Congrats Y/N/N," he moved in to give you a hug and you returned it. "I'm gonna hit the sack." 

"Yeah same," Harrison said, repeating Harry's movements. 

By the time they'd all left, you and Tom were left alone cleaning up everything and washing dishes at one A.M.

"Can I ask who it's about?" 

"Which one?" You asked, scrubbing the bottom of a plate before handing it to him to rinse and dry. 

"The, uh- the last one." 

"Oh," you looked at the sponge in your hands. "It's about you." 

The tips of his ears reddened, and you had to will yourself not to laugh at it. 

"I really.. love it," he admitted almost bashfully, avoiding your gaze. 

"Well," you grabbed his hands despite the suds. "I really love you." 

[watchmegetobsessed]

I Hear A Symphony - Harry Styles

Extra blurb for Floating Through Space!

a/n: this idea came to me out of the blue and i suck at controling myself so i just had to write it! it’s an extra in the universe of FTS, just a little moment for our power couple in their life after the grammys!

the fic again contains an already existing song, credits to the artist, it’s going to be linked in the right place, make sure to listen to it when you see the vid!

pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader

word count: ~2k

masterlist

It’s been two weeks since the first time Harry told you he loved you. Fourteen entire days since the man you’ve been with these past three months told you he loved you, not just with his actions but with his words as well.

It happened so randomly, so out of the blue. You were at his place and following a long and dreading day the two of you decided to have a shower together. He asked if he could wash your hair and you enjoyed the way his fingers massaged your scalp, the intimacy of such a simple yet heartwarming moment ending the day on a wonderful note.

As the water was washing away the soap of your body he leaned down, captured your lips in a simple kiss before the words fell from his lips.

“I love you,” he said, his eyes searching for yours as first you looked down at the floor before your gaze meeting his, lips parted, heart pounding in your chest.

You wanted to say it back, it was on the tip of your tongue, but no word came out your mouth, a slight panic rushing through your senses from his confession. So you pulled him down and kissed him hard, hoping he can feel that you meant to say it, but you weren’t ready to actually form the words just yet.

It’s been eating you away for so long, because the feeling has been there for a long time, probably since the Grammy’s when the two of you sang your heart out in your duet, but your body is plotting against your mind, not letting you say it the way you want to. But you feel like the moment has come and being the dramatic artist that you are, you want it to be big. Because Harry deserves a grandiose romantic gesture.

You’ve been working on your new album for a while now, but needless to say that when you met Harry, you wrote quite a few songs about him that demanded place on your upcoming record, but so far you haven’t shown him any of them and you have a major reason for that.

The very first one you started writing about him turned out to be a massive song. Not because it has a full ballad as the lyrics, it barely have just a few verses. It’s because what started as just a simple melody for the piano soon turned into a monumental symphony with a full symphonic band and you decided to compose the entire melody, to all of the instruments yourself, because it was the only way the song would feel entirely yours. And Harry’s.

Recordings have been going on for weeks just for this one song, because you needed it to be absolutely perfect since it’s been in consideration to be the title of the album. Now the song is done and you are ready to show it to Harry and finally tell him how you really feel about him.

Sitting at your dining table you watch him type out an email to Jeff, eyebrows furrowed as he is still chewing on the last bit of his dinner. His unruly curls are covering his forehead and you smile to yourself as you reach over and push them back, making him glance up at you.

“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks, putting his phone away to turn all his attention to you.

“You,” you tell him, tilting your head to the side.

“Me? And why is that?” he smirks, grabbing your hand before you could pull it back and bringing it to his mouth he gently kisses your knuckles.

“What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?” you ask, ignoring his question.

“I’m guessing you are about to tell me,” he smirks, letting go of your hand so he can rest his chin in his palms. “What were you thinking about?”

“Would you like to come to my recording session?” Harry’s eyebrows shoot up from surprise, he surely wasn’t expecting this.

“You want me there?” He knows how you like to keep your works to yourself until you feel comfortable enough to show it to someone outside of your little team. You’ve only shared with him bits and bites of songs, nothing major, so this invitation is clearly a big deal for the both of you.

“Yes. I want… I have something to show you.”

He could tease you about finally showing him something, or crack a joke about being so into him that you wrote a song about him, but he doesn’t do anything of that sort. Instead, he just smiles back at you with so much adoration and love filling his eyes, it could make your chest burst. Leaning closer he kisses your lips softly before pecking the tip of your nose as well.

“Would love to join you.”

You hold onto Harry’s hand for dear life on your way to the studio where you’re going to have your final recording of the song. His song. A whole orchestra is going to be playing for you and while you’ve recorded the song in layers before, today you’re gonna perform it all together for the first time, every instrument playing at the same time as you sing. You really wanted to have a version of this sort, so you know what it’ll sound like when you perform it later with the prerecorded music.

You can tell that Harry is just as excited as you are, but he is keeping it bottled inside, not bugging you about what he is about to hear. He knows it’s going to be about him, you wouldn’t want to show him if it wasn’t.

When you pass by several studios and head to the grand room, the only place that fits the whole orchestra in it at the same time, Harry seems to be growing curious, but still doesn’t question anything, just follows you silently.

“Hello everyone!” you call out upon walking into the room, the majority of the band is already there, greeting you happily, especially when they see who you’re with. “Um, Harry is going to join us for the recording, hope it’s alright,” you announce with a nervous chuckle and you get a few knowing looks. Everyone in the room knows it’s about him, you’ve been an item publicly long enough and it’s not a hard task to put two and two together.

Harry waves around with a few short hellos and how are you’s as he takes a seat at the front of the room, facing the orchestra and essentially, you when you’ll be singing. You sit next to him and before the recording starts, you feel like you owe a few words for him.

“I’ve been working on this song for… the longest, because it started with just a piano, but then I kept adding more and more until it grew into a whole orchestra,” you admit chuckling and it brings a smirk to his lips as well, his dimples digging into his cheeks. Then you take a deep breath and try to calm your nerves for the next part you’re about to tell him. “Two weeks ago you… told me you loved me and… I’m sorry for never saying it back…”

“I didn’t expect you to,” he speaks up softly. “I didn’t say it to hear you say it back. I know it takes you a lot to figure out your feelings, Y/N.”

“But I have them figured out,” you reply. “I just…” You take a deep breath, feeling yourself getting emotional already. “This song is the first one I wrote about you.”

“The first? So there’s more?” he asks with a small smirk.

“Of course,” you admit chuckling. “But this one… is the most important one. So I want you to hear it.”

Harry nods and doesn’t question you about never finishing your trail of thoughts about your feelings. He just lets you do your thing knowing that it’ll become a whole sooner or later.

Leaning in you kiss him shortly before you stand up and join all the incredible musicians and get ready for the recording. Harry gets a headset so he can hear everything clearly and when everyone is settled, the recording starts. The song kicks out with you singing acapella.

“I used to hear a simple song, that was until you came along. Now in its place is something new, I hear it when I look at you.”

Then the piano starts playing and eventually the violins join softly before you start singing the second verse, making the melody flow perfectly. You keep your eyes off of Harry, but you can feel his intense stare on you as he listens.

“With simple songs, I wanted more, perfection is so quick to bore. You are my beautiful, by far our flaws are who we really are."

The piano and the violins continue playing, getting more and more dynamic with each played note and you feel a shudder run down your spine. The whole song starts to grow as the wind instruments join in, slowly pulling the melody up to its peek that’s about to come soon. And then it happens. Your eyes find Harry’s when you start to sing the next verse, the whole orchestra playing behind you at its fullest.

“I used to hear a simple song, that was until you came along. You took my broken melody and now I hear a symphony…”

The melody continues as you add some vocals, singing your whole heart and soul out, your eyes still set on Harry before suddenly, the instruments cut out and you sing your last line with just the piano playing the last few chords along with you.

“And now I hear a symphony.”

The room grows quiet and your chest is heaving, vision blurry as you couldn’t stop yourself from tearing up. Your emotions washed over you, sweeping you off your feet and now your bare soul is lying in front of Harry’s feet who is still staring at you frozen.

At first you panic at his lack of reaction, but then you see him wipe his eyes and you realize he is crying. Just as you step off the podium and head in his way, he takes his headset off and starts walking in your way and the whole orchestra start cheering and clapping when he envelopes you in his arms, holding you so tight you can barely breathe. You laugh through your tears when he lifts you up and twirls you around in the air before setting you back down and kissing you all over your face, wherever he reaches you. Cupping his face in your hands you pull back a little so you can look into his glistening eyes.

“I love you,” you finally tell him with shaky lips, a weight finally falling off your shoulders and chest now that you’ve said it.

“Oh baby, I love you too,” he smiles, before pulling you in for a kiss that’s soaked by your tears, but by far the sweetest you’ve shared. “I love you so much,” he mumbles against your lips.

“What do you think about the song?” you ask finally pulling away, wiping your tears off your cheeks, not even caring that there is a whole orchestra watching the two of you interact.

“I’m pretty sure this is what they play when you enter Heaven,” he chuckles making you laugh as you smack his chest playfully. “No, but really. It’s brilliant. I’ve never heard anything like this. And having you sing it live for me with the whole orchestra… My mind is blown, baby. It’s going to be hard to top it with anything,” he adds chuckling.

“That was my plan all along,” you admit with a laugh before you pull him down for another kiss.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[kkaeyva]

as always, in memory

𐐪𐑂 includes: albedo, painter!reader

𐐪𐑂 genre(s): fluff, comfort (probably)

𐐪𐑂 warning(s): one (1) ‘the chalk prince and the dragon’ event spoiler at the very very end

𐐪𐑂 note: written bc i needed comfort, and if you need comfort as well (or just something to read/cry to), i hope this can provide it to you ♡

𐐪𐑂 word count: 0.8k

albedo watches as you dab your paintbrush into a bead of blue paint. his eyes wander around the room— there is neither any still life model nor any blue objects in his sight. he quirks an eyebrow, “what are you painting?”

you glance up at him from behind the canvas but not before flinching a little, a shiver in the way you hold your brush. (albedo’s voice had cut through the silence as if putting scissors to a piece of paper. he apologizes for that.) you smile gently at him, before answering, “right now, it’s your eyes,” and you giggle when his eyes widen and a rosy pink hue dusts his cheeks. it feels weird— basically unheard of— for him to be the subject of a painting.

“they’re the most brilliant shade of blue,” you continue, “even the brightest, bluest crystal ore would be jealous of the magnificence i see in your eyes,” you add a bit of white to a portion of turquoise you had mixed earlier.

albedo stays stock-still, trying his best to meet your expectations as a model. (though you simply laugh and tell him to “assume any pose you want, i will paint you however you want to be painted.”)

and he watches your brush dance across the canvas; each and every bristle slides across the fabric eloquently, leaving colour in its wake. and those colours befriend each other, and the borders at which they meet become obsolete— there is no need for borders or gates between these friends, and so they melt away. or are they more like lovers, accepting the other for their differences and therefore becoming one?

“what are you thinking about?” you lift your eyes from the canvas to meet albedo’s gaze and he thinks his heart skipped a beat just now; your sudden full attention brings feelings he didn’t even know he had to the surface. they bubble at the top, threatening to boil over. (he almost wants them to.)

“nothing in particular,” he replies finally, “i was just... observing.”

“observing?”

“yes. you seem to be committing every part of me to memory before you even touch the paint.”

you hum in a tone he can’t name, resuming the brushstrokes on your canvas. you must be almost finished by now. he finds himself rhythmically tapping on the arm of the chair he sits on, waiting.

“how do you like it?” you ask, pressing a shallow kiss lasting half a second to his cheek. you leave to get a drink. (your usual, probably.)

albedo’s eyes bore into the painting, peering into the window that you call a canvas. his own reflection stares back at him, and if he didn’t know any better he’d say the painting itself is more animated than he is. how do you see so much potential in mundane life? how do you capture expressions with so much detail— the slight furrow in his brow is something even he did not notice. it’s almost as if you can read through him. the idea of transparency is unsettling.

albedo looks over it again and again, pointing out new details each time. however, he doesn’t have criticism; he never does, but he knows you’d get upset if he told you it’s perfect. it’s always perfect. you’re perfect to him.

his mind blurts out the same thought he’s always had. (he skims over the image again, just to make sure.) yes, it’s always the same: while he paints to capture a brief moment of life, you paint to say “hey, i was here; i did this. remember me.”

(he thinks it’s melancholic, in a way. what good is it anyway, to be remembered by people whom you’ve never met? but isn’t that what makes you intriguing to him? why does he always ask questions he knows the answer to?)

“what’s on your mind?” you’re leaning against the doorway now.

“it’s perfect,” he says, gears turning in his head.

“oh, you,” you huff. you take your time walking over to him, and the moment you do, your hand finds his easily, fingers snuggling in between the other’s; a practiced movement.

“you know i won’t ever forget about you, right?” he doesn’t turn to face you, but there is enough sincerity in his tone to convey his feelings. (almost. you do know albedo isn’t well-versed in acting on his feelings, right?)

you look at him, uncertainty starting to crawl up your spine; the sharp talons dig into your flesh and bone. you’ve heard this a million times before, and have had the same questions and answers a million times before, and yet every time you still ask, “what do you mean?”

“if i.. destroy mondstadt...” he inhales. (though, it is just an excuse to stay silent for a bit longer.) you, too, stay silent, wishing not to interrupt him even if his hand shakes and shivers in your grasp. a beat more, and, “even if... i will remember you.”

and, just like you’ve done a million times before, you take the canvas off the easel and offer it to him. a gentle breeze from the open window whisks up a smile on your face (the one albedo loves so much), “then, let this be something you can remember me by.”

[genderfluid-insomniac]

"I'm Still Standing" singer!Hawks x reader

words: 1.4k

You saw him nervously pacing on stage and playing with his black leather jacket and red wings fluffed up due to anxiety, locking eyes with you and laughing nervously. Going over and putting a hand on his cheek, “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to do great!”

Keigo leaned into your touch and hummed, “I know. I just can’t help these pre-show nerves. How are you feeling, baby bird?” You sighed and rested your head against his chest, feeling his arms wrap around you while you do the same.

“I could be better,” you received a look from your boyfriend, “okay, I’m nervous but you are too!” He raised his hands in defense, “Fair point”. You both laughed and ran your hands over his jacket. The black leather complimenting the dark blue ripped jeans he had on and white shirt, not even mentioning how his vermillion wings stood out and accentuated his gorgeous features.

Glancing up and seeing him catch you staring, smiling as you got flustered, and continued to reach a hand up over his soft slightly chapped lips and below his eyes, tracing his black birthmarks around his eyes. You felt so lucky to have him as a partner for love and for singing, the confidence he gave off was infectious and he knew it.

You heard the manager call him over, kissing each other before he was on, sending you a wink and smiling excitedly. Keigo knew what he did to your heart and never stopped making it flutter, as he always did. You waved to him and crept closer to the wings of the stage.

“Come on, Keigo. You got this!” muttering under your breath. All of you had practiced for a week and tuned your skills, your lover had rehearsed his piano lessons up until tonight and refused to show you, insisting that the surprise would be worth it.

On the stage was a single old classic piano with a mic attached and a stool, lighted dimmed and tinted a navy blue. He walked over and sat on the stool, looking back up to you and your group, flittering his hands over the keys and his facing blooming with determination.

Running his hands over the keys and playing the first few notes, the music and lights giving a light pumped up feel, “You could never know what it's like, your blood like winter freezes just like ice.” The crowd picked up the beat and started swaying in their seats and you were doing the same dancing where you stood, glancing at the other performers beside you.

You could see Keigo’s eyes closed but keeping the rhythm and feeling himself, trying to stay seated as his feet tapped along with him, his head bopping up and down, angling his head so the mic could still pick him up. “And there's a cold lonely light that shines from you, You'll wind up like the wreck you hide behind that mask you use,”

His wings twitched and moved behind him, each feather feeling the energy of him, and syncing with it. He was in his own world, his blonde hair swaying and remaining in perfect shape, his whole body surging with joy as he sang his heart out. “And did you think this fool could never win? Well look at me, I'm coming back again.”

“I got a taste of love in a simple way. And if you need to know while I'm still standing you just fade away” With every lyric he sang, the crowd responded and clapped along. The kids got up from their seats and dancing with their parents and the elders smiled as the handsome man captured a song they once heard beautifully.

You knew the chorus was coming and you met Keigo’s gaze as grinned, “Don't you know I'm still standing better than I ever did,” eyes brimming with happiness and wings flaring out slightly, “Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid” Shining with confidence as he sang the last couple words, his past was known between you both and he told you there were a couple of things that distracted him and made him feel free, singing was one of them.

The euphoria inside you was nothing compared to his, “I'm still standing after all this time,” you could tell how connected he was to those words and how true they were. “Picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind.” The audience was eating up the energy he gave off and giving it back twofold, they could feel the emotions through the song, it had a different meaning to each of them but all similar.

Whatever you did can’t stop me from getting better.

“I'm still standing, yeah, yeah, yeah”

Here I am, stronger than ever.

“I'm still standing, yeah, yeah, yeah”

Your friends bumped your shoulder and grinned with pride, inviting you to quietly dance with him and you happily accepted, catching Keigo’s eyes as he glanced from the keys to the mic. The emotion you both shared was undeniable, “Once I never could hope to win, you starting down the road leaving me again.”

Letting your mind drift through your memories as he sang the third verse, how he struggled to believe that things could get better and his life could change for the better. That’s when you both met, giving him a chance at hope and shifting his mindset by letting love into his life, as much as he grew to appreciate you, you appreciate him and how hard he fought every day.

“The threats you made were meant to cut me down, and if our love was just a circus you'd be a clown by now.” Some days Keigo came home depressed and hopeless, thinking back on all the times he was berated and gaslit. Trying desperately to not give in to those negative thoughts, knowing they went nowhere, learning it was okay to accept help.

Lovingly staring at him as you danced and spun with the others backstage, cheering loudly as he reached the chorus and stood up, pushing the stool over. “Don't you know I'm still standing better than I ever did? Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid!” Wings unfurling as he got swept up in the song and the crimson feathers catching the light of the spotlights,

Keigo looked to you full of pride and exhilaration and tearing up. You mouthed to him, ‘I’m so proud of you.’ and laughing as tears brimmed your eyes as well. “I'm still standing after all this time, picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind” By now the crowd was singing along and completely in the moment as your boyfriend was, hearing him press a high key a few times for effect.

“I'm still standing, yeah, yeah, yeah” It truly was a magnificent display, Keigo full of joy and hope singing fully heartedly into the mic and annunciating each word with meaning. “I'm still standing, yeah, yeah, yeah” pounding out the final notes and finishing it off with a bang, hitting the keys and pushing away the piano as he jumped back.

The lights flashed and came back on, the overwhelming cheer from the audience and how loud it was, still shook up from singing, Keigo smiled and looked to you a bit nervous. Laughing you motioned to take a bow and he copied you, bowing at the hips and fanning his wings out as he did so, charming the crowd as he always did.

You applauded him and ran to him and soon as he got off stage, jumping into his arms and giggling as he spun you around, his hands firmly on your hips. “I knew you could do it, you were amazing! I don’t have the words!” Keigo laughed with you and held you close, his golden eyes bursting with joy, and kissed your lips.

[pearlcaddy]

Kiss Prompt via DM: “40 for the Soulmate AU?”

40: A gentle kiss that quickly descends into passion, with little regard for what’s going on around them (Sparks verse)

Inspired by this utterly gorgeous fanart by @mamirugbee

Now on AO3!

“LUKE.”

From her spot curled up on the rehearsal studio floor, Julie glances up in time to see Alex slap her boyfriend on the arm. Her boyfriend who is unabashedly staring at her instead of playing his guitar. Under the full volume of his adoring gaze, she can’t keep the grin from slipping onto her face, and as soon as she smiles, he bursts into a giant beam, which only makes her smile bigger and then his smile grows and—

“Is this a rehearsal or the middle school cafeteria?” Bobby grumbles.

“Middle school cafeteria?” Julie asks, bemused.

“Bobby did his best flirting in the cafeteria,” Reggie explains. “I say best: it was middle school, so he basically just smiled a lot and threw a bunch of ‘do u want to go out with me’ notes as paper airplanes.”

“Hey, those notes got me at least three dates.”

“Out of, like, two hundred,” Alex points out.

“I stand by my methods.”

Julie chuckles and glances back at Luke. Whose eyes are still very much focused on her. That blissful smile works its way back onto her face and—

Alex groans. “Do I need to pour water on you two?”

“Sure,” Luke replies absently.

“Not near the amps!” Reggie squeals.

“Okay, you know what?” Alex gestures pointedly at the studio door. “I am going on a coffee run. Bobby, Reggie, do you want to join?”

“But you said I’m not allowed to drink coffee anymore because it makes me ‘a bit much,’” Reggie tries to point out. Bobby rolls his eyes and elbows the bassist. Then it clicks. “OH. ‘Coffee run.’ Riiiiight.”

Alex studies the ceiling for a second, like he’s searching for rational people in the studio and coming up empty, and then marches out with Reggie and Bobby at his heels.

As soon as they disappear, Luke all but jumps across the studio towards Julie. She tries to put on her best approximation of a “responsible grown-up voice.” “You have got to stop staring at me and focus.”

He lets out an exasperated groan as he flops onto his back and rests his head in her lap. “How can I? You’re here.”

“It’s literally your job.”

But he continues on like she didn’t speak. “AND you’re wearing my clothes.”

She snuggles her shoulders further into his denim trenchcoat. “It’s cold in here.” Sure. It’s definitely the mild A/C. Definitely not that she loves being able to tuck her nose in the collar and fill her lungs with his familiar scent. Definitely not that every time she breathes in the indefinable Luke smell, she has sappy thoughts like “This is what home smells like.”

Capturing a stray curl, he twists it up around his finger. “Can we go home now?”

“You’ve been here for, like, two hours. Come on, you need to focus. This is cute, but it’s very unprofessional.”

He pouts up at her. “When have I ever claimed to be professional?”

“It’s one of the first things I remember you saying to me.”

He kisses the hair around his finger and releases the curl, gazing up at her with such soft joy that her heart beats a little faster. Or maybe it’s his heart beating into their bond. She can’t tell the difference sometimes. “Should I go home?” she asks gently, trying to ignore the immediately disapproving shriveling sensation in both her heart and the bond.

“Nah, if you leave, I’m gonna be just as distracted. Can’t I just take, like, two months off? C’mon, seven years of pining—I deserve two months of non-stop basking.”

“After you finish the Sunset Curve album.”

He pouts again. “No fair. That’s gonna be ages away.”

She wants to keep lecturing him, but… as much as he’s being absurd and over the top, she feels it too. Their journey happened as it was meant to, and she doesn’t regret a moment of it, but she can’t stop her mind from lingering on all the other periods in their lives when they would have had more time to revel in the new relationship. Running her fingers through his hair, she scratches against his scalp, and a smile purrs its way across his lips. “If you don’t start paying attention in class, your dads won’t let me come over anymore,” she teases.

“Can I at least have a kiss?”

Rolling her eyes, she leans down to place a gentle peck on his lips. But once she’s there, with his already familiar lips eagerly greeting hers, she can’t stop with just one. She tries to deepen the kiss, but her neck is bent awkwardly from this angle. As if reading her discomfort, he immediately flips himself around without separating their mouths, coming to kneeling in front of her. He cups her chin with one hand and teases her lips apart , while he runs the fingers of his free hand along the parts of her neck that he’s already learned are the most sensitive. She sighs into his mouth, and for a moment his lips lose the rhythm of the kiss as they twitch into what she suspects is a smirk. His free hand slides under his trenchcoat and around her waist, tugging her in closer to him, and the bond lets out a sparkling vibration, like a throat warbling out a high note. She pulls her mouth from his and starts to work her way across his cheek, reaching for the spot behind his jaw that she now knows is—

Luke jolts away suddenly, water spots speckling his clothes. “What the fuck?”

Alex stands over them, holding his water bottle up like he’s brandishing a sword. “Don’t test me.”

“The amps!” Reggie cries again, shuddering with the well-earned fear of his own lifetime of bad decision-making.

“If the amps get damaged, Luke will pay for it. Now can we please rehearse?”

Luke looks back at her, not nearly as sheepish as she suspects they probably should be. Holding up his pinky, he asks, “If I finish the album, two months?”

“Two months,” she agrees, and links her pinky with his.

He instantly pops to his feet. “Alright boys, let’s do this thing.”