#idk.... I don't like the other side of their face but can't seem to fix it 😞

[minacht]

looks at you like 🤨

[madschiavelique]

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 10 - Three of Cups

summary : you are invited to a masquerade, and between battling to find a decent dress and the expectations of conducting oneself in high society, you manage to pull it off

content warnings : masquerade shit idk, reader putting men back in their places because duh, for reference here are the link to reader (the pic on the right) and viktor's outfit for the masquerade (art made by me)

word count : 8,5k

author's note : omygoodness, i’m so dubious about this chapter. i could NOT not give viktor some khôl sexy eyes okay. i just did and i don't regret it. also!!! i moved the taglist down the doc now hehe

proofread by the lovely @yaffles-world <3

masterlist : here

"Really now?"

You looked at yourself in the mirror, your head barely visible above a fluorescent orange collar with multiple layers piling up on top of each other like lasagna.

Who would have thought that finding a dress was such a long and difficult job?

You'd already been in a few shops in Piltover for a good hour each. You'd been going from boutique to boutique for nearly three hours already, and you were beginning to lose hope about the possibilities open to you regarding your outfit.

Tonight was the gala, and you still hadn't found a dress. You'd probably imagined that the matter would be sorted out quickly. That, by some miracle or other, you would find a dress that was chic and presentable enough to wear to a masquerade.

But the clock was ticking, while your search continued unabated. Sélène and Sky had both come to accompany you, and the two of them had enough in common that the teacher-student barrier was forgotten and she just saw her as a friendly aunt.

Sélène had this extraordinary ability to always be open, to see everyone as an equal, no matter what their age or background was. It was an immense and admirable quality, coupled with her extraordinary patience to hold out and persevere in finding you a superb evening outfit.

You had tried on so many dresses that you thought you could now recognise every possible material a dress could be made of. You'd tried silk and velvet, pleats of tulle or organza, all sorts of cuts that made you look either too invested in this evening or far too casual.

You knew that, once you entered the gala hall, it would be an arena. A constant battle of eyes tearing at the others, comments on their appearances, their words - passive-aggressive phrases disguised as condescending benevolence. 

You could understand why Jayce didn't want to face such a world, always so hungry for crumbs that left stomachs screaming to invent new words and cover the world with a layer of sneaky ridicule.

Speaking of ridiculous, the outfit you were now wearing completed the criteria. 

You turned to Sky and Selene who, with a knowing glance, sighed in turn. You returned to the cabin, removing the dress and putting on your clothes again with annoyance.

"Maybe I should just tell Jayce I can't make it," you concluded as you left the cabin.

"No way in hell," chuckled Selene.

"Maybe we should try the other side of the river?" Sky suggested, after seeing that there was no one around to overhear.

Zaun owned huge dressmaking houses, however they clashed with Piltover’s aesthetic. If word got out that one of the guests at this prestigious gala was wearing couture from the enemy city... you didn't know what that would do to your reputation and the strings that would be pulled to constrain you in your aims.

"No," replied Selene, her eyes fixed on you as a flash of lucidity seemed to cross her mind. She gave you both a wise smile. "There's still a wardrobe in Piltover where you'll probably be able to find something."

She then turned to Sky, offering her a charming smile and taking both her hands, squeezing them gratefully.

"Sky sweetheart, I'll be taking over from now on. I thank you immensely for your time and your very pleasant company." She turned to you for a moment. "Dear, give me one of those tickets Jayce gave you."

You complied, handing her one of the tickets still looking crisply printed, which she handed to Sky.

"Go on a little shopping trip and get yourself some treats. You've earned it."

Sky looked deeply surprised, exchanging a glance with you for a moment as you shrugged, equally confused.

Selene turned to you. "As for us, we've got some real archaeological work to do."

The two of you returned to Selene's flat as Sky had left, exchanging one last minute and promising to tell each other absolutely everything once you got back from the Gala.

"What card did you draw today?" she asked as she opened the door to her dressing room.

You watched as she grabbed a small stepladder. "Three of Cups."

"Aha," she smiled as she climbed onto it, scanning the shelves above, "the cards know about this little soirée."

The little booklet was starting to feel a lot more familiar now: Joy shared with others. Friendship and celebration. The expression of love and warm feelings.

It all seemed very positive, you thought, as you continued to read the page. The Cups reflect the sacred triad of creativity and growth. This card reminds you to share with others. Empowering others increases your happiness, health and wealth. Surround yourself with people who uplift you.

Talk about elevation, you'd find yourself surrounded on all sides by aristocrats and other big heads, where the only level that could rise would be that of clever condescension camouflaged under dishonest smiles.

Selene's graceful hands, full of rings, clutched a large black leather suitcase. She blew on it, a cloud of dust rising into the air as she passed it to you.

“What's this?” you questioned as you picked it up, its weight comfortable in your arms as you observed the trunk.

She bent down to grab the handle of a second briefcase, brown and with the varnish starting to peel off the corners. 

"I was around your age when I started getting invited to Galas and other balls of the sort." She descended the small steps of the stepladder, facing you. "I kept all the dresses that some men had offered me."

You smiled, amazed and surprised. "Offered?"

Selene giggled, kneeling on the ground as you did the same.

"They offered me drinks, and the drinks went to the bed, and from the bed came enough adoration that I have to my credit two or three divorces in which I am the centre of the affair." She sighed as she undid the two golden buckles guarding the sealed chest. "They covered me with jewels," your eyes passed over her hands again, "flowers, and on special occasions, dresses."

She opened it, and your lips parted at the beauty of its contents. She pinched an emerald-green piece of fabric, lifting its heavy velvet into the air before you and revealing a winter dress all embroidered with carmine and obsidian stones, dripping like blood.

Another slipped through her fingers, a summer dress in a fine, peachy pink, its sleeves made of organza embroidered with gold embellishments.

Another made you open your mouth until your jaw hit the floor. A long golden dress, with a loose neckline reaching down to just above her navel, while the bare back almost reached her sacrum.

"You wore that?" you almost choked out.

She smiled, raising her eyebrows. "Some of them wanted to uncover me more than cover me."

You laughed softly, opening the black trunk in your lap. The glitter of a black sequined dress was immediately reflected on your skin.

"These are all so beautiful..." you said almost absently, your hand running through the fabric.

The thought then occurred to you that you were going to wear something so expensive and beautiful tonight, but you felt almost unworthy to have any of these dresses on your skin. You were first in the Academy, of course. And you had worked hard to get there. But a masquerade that would surely be attended by all the most important people in Piltover was no mean feat.

"Now," Selene broke through your incessant internal doubts, clutching the first dress that came her way, "let's see how beautiful you look in them."

You smiled softly at her, shyly accepting the piece of art as she stepped out of the dressing room and gave you time to change. 

You held the fabric close to you, the sequins reflecting off your hands as your eyes tried to visualise you wearing that same dress tonight. I must be perfect, you thought.

As you began undressing to put on the dress, a reflection caught your eye. Your attention was drawn to a dark patch peeking out from under an old pink dress.

Drawn in, intrigued, you gently pinched the shoulder of the dress to discover the one hidden beneath. A soft, violet fabric, approaching a dark blue, gleamed in the light from the ceiling, lines of small blue and black stones streaking it from top to bottom.

Purple, you thought, the conversation from the day you visited the museum coming back to mind.

You took the dress in your hands, rising up and letting it unfurl like a waterfall at night. The fabric seemed magical, shimmering like stars on water, glistening like the moon on snow. The neckline ran from around the neck in a V-shape to the centre of the valley of your breasts, a dark, almost black bodice hugging the waist while the skirt came down to the feet. The shoulders were covered, the sleeves parting loosely halfway down the arm until they met at gold bracelets around the wrist.

It was sublimely elegant, dark and mysterious, perfect for a masquerade. You carefully replaced the dress Selene had originally given you in the suitcase, and slipped it on. The fabric was soft against your skin, a slight reassuring weight on your shoulders as the bracelets closed around your wrists with ease. You felt neither too tight nor too loose – a perfect balance. 

Maybe purple wasn't such a bad colour after all.

"So?" called Selene from outside. 

You inhaled, hesitantly opening the dressing room door. Selene was at her vanity, looking in her drawers for the few palettes that might embellish your eyes. She looked away from her search, resting her eyes on you, and her gaze softened.

"Where did you get this one?" you asked, your finger pinching the skirt gently as you gazed at the stones glinting softly in the light.

She moved towards you, tender, as a thin smile stretched her lips, gazing wistfully at the dress on you.

"It was given to me..." her hand came to rest on one of your shoulders, sliding down your arm, "by a man I loved."

"You loved?" you repeated in wonder.

"Mhm," she hummed, her hand reaching for the gold bracelet, index and middle fingers together as if to trace its pulse. She seemed to come back to reality, regaining your eyes. "I'm glad you're wearing it."

She then turned her head to the mirror on her dressing table, taking your wrist gently and pulling it so that you came to sit in front of it. In your reflection, the dress looked stunning, highlighting your figure to perfection and lighting you up.

Selene then picked up a black circular mask, hanging over the mirror.

"Now," she brought the mask up to your face, placing it to make sure it would fit, "it's time for the world to figure out how to resist you."

Your heart was pounding as the music came closer to your ears and your heels echoed in the huge hallway you were walking through.

Selene had done your make-up after you'd showered, spending a good while on your eyes, since they and your lips would be the main attractions. She fixed your hair, gave you a few accessories and found a pair of heels in your size.

You made your way to the masquerade building without much trouble, the cool night air calming the heat in your cheeks. And now that you'd reached the big ballroom, your heart was starting to race in your chest.

What if you stumbled and made a fool of yourself? What if you said something wrong that didn't fit in with high society etiquette? What if you made a mistake?

You tried to breathe, to calm yourself down, to not assume that you were going to fail no matter what. You were the top of the Academy, after all, and defeat feared you. You thought about all the possibilities, and resigned yourself first of all to finding Jayce, who was probably just as lost and scared as you were.

You took one last breath, and turned into the chamber with your head held high.

The room had a high ceiling from which modern crystal chandeliers shone, illuminating the space where all sorts of silhouettes mingled. Some were standing by banqueting tables piled high with petits fours and amuse-bouches, while others were forming clusters of discussion groups, each carrying a champagne flute.

Do as they do, you thought, on the lookout for a waiter who might pass not far from you. With great luck, a charming butler came towards you as if a radar for people without champagne flutes had been grafted onto his eyes. 

You took one, offering him a polite smile. As he prepared to leave, already looking for new people to please, you thought hesitantly to ask him if he'd seen Jayce Talis. But you stopped yourself, instead bringing the drink to your lips to prevent making a fool of yourself. You were in a masquerade, the very principle of which was the doubt and mystery of those with whom you were sharing a discussion.

Fortunately for you, however, you knew Jayce well enough to recognise him in a crowd. Had Viktor even arrived? You had no idea. Perhaps you were alone here, a shrimp trying to pretend to be a shark when an ocean of danger could bring a deadly current at any moment.

You looked around the room a little more closely. On either side, pillars of white marble rose up to a vaulted ceiling covered with superb frescoes. The floor was almost a mirror of it because of its intensive polishing, the black and white tiles creating intricate rosettes which you could no doubt start counting if the evening ever got too boring for your liking. At the far end of the room, three huge windows, almost embedded in the domed ceiling, let you discover the night and its mysteries. There was even a small band playing a steady stream of classical music, much to the delight of everyone it appeared.

The setting was magnificent, the scents of expensive foods and fragrances mingling almost to the point of suffocation. Everyone was wearing quite different colours, but the majority were still in Piltover's gold and white.

Finally your eyes found Jayce, dressed in the colours of his house. It's all about subtlety, you thought as you walked towards him. You hoped that by some miracle he would turn his head towards you and recognise you, so that you wouldn't have to worry about interrupting a conversation.

Alas, he did not. You walked towards them, a sentence ending as you arrived.

"I thought I'd never find you," you said, Jayce and his chatting companion both turning to face you. 

Jayce looked confused for a moment, frowning and hoping he wasn't a complete idiot.

"Do I know y..." You feared the worst when a flash of genius crossed his eyes. "Oh it's you!"

Your shoulders relaxed as the stress subsided.

"I almost didn't recognise you," he admitted, apparently taken aback by your outfit. He turned for a moment to his conversation companion. "If you'll excuse us."

The latter nodded politely as you and Jayce walked away, along one of the buffet tables.

"This place is terrifying," you started, your eyes going around the room as you noticed a few glances being on you relentlessly.

Jayce shrugged, grabbing an appetiser that looked far too sophisticated for you and Sky to be lucky enough to find in the corner shop. "It's not as bad as I thought it would be," he said with his mouth full.

"That's because you're a social butterfly, Jayce," you remarked, your stare stretching across the room as a few eyes rested on you and smiled in what looked like an attempt at flirting from a distance for some. "You're the sunlight of this room."

He stopped chewing for a moment, looking at you with big eyes. "That's probably the nicest thing you ever said to me."

"It's not that complicated - all of them look like they were dipped in wax and can barely crack an actual smile."

"I take that back," he sighed, swallowing his bite.

You turned your attention back to the buffet, plates probably costing more than your salary, containing all sorts of arrangements mixing puff pastas and all sorts of garnishes.

You ventured to take one, exhaling a hum of relief as the taste was absolutely divine. Perhaps you'll be staying near the food this evening? The advantage with them at least was that you didn't risk having to talk yourself to sleep.

"So," you licked your fingers, "will you introduce us to your girlfriend?"

He sighed, his shoulders drooping. "Chances are she'll find you before I find her,” he mumbled, his eyes roaming the room in search of the aforementioned lady. "She's in her element here, but I think you'll recognise her once she comes to you."

You'd seen Mel Medarda before. Selene, who had a metaphorical place on the council, used to take you along from time to time when public meetings such as trials took place. You knew each of the councillors, like most of the people in Piltover, and would no doubt recognise them if the occasion arose.

Mel Medarda, sumptuous woman that she was, had left her mark on you in her beauty, her eloquence and her generosity. You hoped to honour your memory and her greatness by recognising her this evening.

"Is Viktor here with you?" you asked, curiosity winning out over silence.

"Yes," he smiled, raising his eyebrows, "I think he managed to temporarily escape to the toilets."

You brought your champagne flute to your lips. "Smart man."

From across the room, a guest raised her flute to Jayce. 

"Duty calls," Jayce confirmed as he rubbed his hand off of any crust before placing his hand on your shoulder, "don't sweat it in here, just... mingle."

And with that, he left, leaving you at the mercy of a world you despised.

You looked at the dishes, taking a second one in your hand so as not to stand there like another statue in the background. You took a few steps out of sight, trying to savour what little quiet and time you had on your own before anyone requested your attention.

"That is quite an unfamiliar silhouette that I meet."

You turned, your eyes landing on a young woman covered in a dress combining saturnine white, black and gold. 

Mel Medarda.

In her long dress with a skirt slit up her thighs, she looked like an elegant bottle of poison, an addictive elixir that gave you the serenity and comfort of knowing you were in control and that you had someone to talk to if any worries arose.

She had a mouth shaped like a chameleon, ready to take any shape or colour that might interest or uninterest her auditor. Her dark lips quirked into a smile as her eyes crinkled, all covered in gold and dark glitter. There was power in her grin as she moved forward, murmuring I've got lies so handsome you'll never want to believe the Truth, and that would make her jealous. I've got excuses so beautiful you'll want me to betray you to listen to them, so powerful you'll forgive me anything. 

She was the fiercest shark in the pond, and she was coming towards you.

"Councillor," you raised your flute in introduction, trying to gain the same calm and consistency of diplomatic discussions, "I don't think we ever officially met before."

She sighed as she came up to you, shaking her head. "Let us drop the formalities – you're not going in for a discussion joust with me."

You looked startled, Mel dropping her shoulders.

“I know you're a friend of Jayce and Viktor, you're not a part of any of..." she described a graceful circle in the air with her flute, "them."

You relaxed a little. ‘Thank the Hells, I thought I'd have to behave myself and have conversations about a multi-polarised conflict of international importance, or anything of the sort."

She smiled at you, all charming. She was young, if not the same age as you. So how did she go about her day-to-day life, pushing herself to act like an adult whose shoulders bore the weight of big, heavy decisions?

"To simplicity," she toasted.

You raised your flute to hers before taking a sip. Its contents were beginning to dwindle already.

"How did you and Jayce meet?" she asked after her own swig.

"Two years ago, when I first started at the Academy, I was transferred to his class after three months."

"Really? For what reason?" she inquired.

You shrugged. "I'd made enough progress on my year's programme that they were considering moving me to another class. Skipped two classes in my life," you smiled. 

"I'm beginning to understand why you're in first place in the rankings," she nodded, arching an eyebrow.

"Determination can take you a long way," you confirmed. "Jayce passed me the notes of the classes he'd taken since the beginning of the year, and wire by wire the title of classmate blurred into friend."

You thought back for a moment to the afternoons you'd spent poring over Jayce's notes, the question marks he'd drawn over and over again on his papers that you'd ended up completing for him. And when the weekends came and he came to see you at the café, he'd always wait until you had your break to talk about anything and everything with you.

“How about you?” you asked in return. “Haven't had many times this year to sit down and talk with him about his life, but I do want to know about you.”

“What don't you know?” she smiled. “The advantage of advisors is that a lot of their lives are biographed and catalogued.”

“Lucky then that I get to talk to a human being and not a pile of dead leaves,” you remarked.

She nodded gently before tilting her head to one side in consideration.

“I met Jayce after his trial. We had a long discussion and reconsidered his sentence after sharing it with the council. Since then, I've helped finance some of his projects, and the line between the professional and the romantic has blurred.”

“You're sure he's a good boyfriend, aren't you?” you inquired, ”if I find out he's not buying you a bouquet of flowers every week I may well have to perform an urgent intervention to educate him on the subject.”

She laughed softly, amused by your enthusiasm for making sure he was beyond reproach.

“No lesson needed, I assure you,” she confirmed, turning to the rest of the room and making a very subtle gesture with her hand for a butler to come and serve you both again. “How are you enjoying the night so far?”

“Well,” you sighed, ”I haven't made myself any new enemies so that's a good sign. You?”

“I think that if I hear another conversation about a love affair with a 62-year-old priest or a thesis on predictive models of pluripotent stem cell susceptibility, one of these drinks will end up poisoned by the end of the evening,” the butler reached you and poured you a refill, Mel smiling at him. “Thank you.”

She turned back to you.

“You are my breath of fresh air of the evening.” Her eyes drifted over your form for a moment, intrigued. “That's quite a lovely dress, by the way - I haven't seen such garments around here. Where did you find it?” she inquired as she pinched the fabric of one of your sleeves between her long fingers.

“Oh, my mother gave it to me,” you replied, pleasantly surprised that you could talk so calmly and simply without any pressure. “You probably know of Selene?”

Her eyes returned to yours. “Selene? Selene Phathe?”

You nodded, her lip stretching to the side. 

“I wasn't aware she had a daughter.” she remarked. 

“She has many children,” you smiled. “I'm her legal daughter.”

Selene had always had something very maternal, but had inherited the bitterness of infertility. Any child or young person she came across and helped became a bit like her spiritual children, and you knew your siblings were in good hands.

“I see,” Mel said, offering an understanding smile. “I ask her from time to time for readings and such. Everything she's shared with me has turned out to be true. I was quite skeptical about being carried away by such a science, but she managed to convince me of her certainty.”

“Started reading Tarot myself after a few years of getting readings, it's... startling how accurate they are.”

“Truly?” She pressed her shoulder against yours, “you'll have to come visit me to give me a reading someday.” She smiled. “And inform me of any of Jayce's mischief if he ever does any, I'll be sure to correct him on that matter.”

You raised your then-full flute, all smiles. “I'll drink to that.”

She returned the smile, taking a sip before her eyes found those of another guest in the room and she sighed.

“If you'll excuse me, I think I have another boring conversation to attend to.”

“Good luck - you have my support from afar,” you encouraged her as she gracefully made her way to the designated person.

Your eyes then roamed the room again, observing the few outfits the guests were wearing and all the high heels worn by the women who must have been killing their feet... But your eyes found the end of a cane, a cane you knew all too well and which almost appeared in your horizon like a real lifeline in this troubled sea.

You moved forward, your eyes still lowered on the end of the cane as someone blocked your field of vision and you bumped them. 

“I'm sorry,” you uttered immediately, checking to make sure your champagne hadn't spilled as your eyes darted back to the masked ones of-

Tyler?

The fool's blond curls had been partially combed back with gel, his scarlet mask matched by a suit in Councilman Hoskel's colors: Black, Red and Gold.

He frowned, his eyes watching you completely before he realized where he knew that voice from.

“You?” he pronounced with as much disgust, shock and surprise mingling in his voice.

“Equally pleased, Tyler,” you grumbled, moving to extricate yourself from the situation when he grabbed your arm.

Your eyes immediately landed on where his hand was, moving slowly until they found his. How dare he even touch that fabric?

“What are you doing here?” he questioned, still not letting go of your arm.

“Got the invite for the biggest bastard competition, but it's just my luck that you got here. Now I can't win it, so if you'll excuse me-” you tugged again but Tyler kept his grip firm.

“How the hell did you get in there, huh?”

“Through the door, like everyone else. Can you let me go?”

“Where did you get such an empyreal dress?”

“Oh, you learned a new word.”

“It's Talis, isn't it?” He chuckled, finding the situation pitiful. “Thought he could just let you in like this?”

“Did your mother throw the baby away to raise the placenta? I was invited by merit, unlike you,” you almost spat at him. “Now let go of me.”

“Say please, and I'll consider it.”

“Tyler, I'm going to make you soluble so I can dilute you in my piss and dispense you into every flute in this room,” you threatened. “Let go of me.”

He nodded. “That's not how please is pronounced.”

“Her? Saying please, to you?”

You both turned toward the voice that had just spoken to you, the accent now inscribed in your ears.

Viktor.

Your breath seemed to almost supernaturally halt as your eyes fell on him. A purple, almost black velvet coat sat on his shoulders, the collar of his pierced shirt from which golden chain ornaments dangled, reached down to his vest, which elegantly outlined his waist. His black pants, flowing harmoniously down to his ankles, led to perfectly polished black shoes.

As your gaze returned to his face, your eyes locked on his, whose eyelids, beneath his mask of purple velvet and gold, were covered with a layer of kohl. His amber eyes possessed something mystical, mysterious and powerful.

“You too?" huffed Tyler. "It's an epidemic.” 

“Tyler, I believe the Miss asked you politely to leave her alone. I suppose you wouldn't want any rumors to get out about the Hoskel heir and some of his violent behaviours,” Viktor remarked.

Tyler's eyes darted around the room, most of the masked faces turned towards him while many murmured unintelligible things as they watched the scene. His gaze reached yours again, one corner of his lips rising in annoyance as he finally let go of your arm.

“What's vermin like you doing here?” he asked, teeth clenched.

“We've been officially invited,” Viktor marked. “The efforts of the two top-ranking Academy students that we are have therefore been given the opportunity of such an evening to solidify diplomatic ties, with the hope later of obtaining alliances useful to our projects for the common good.”

You had no idea how quickly Viktor had combined all these justifications to give him an air of credibility. The possibility then occurred to you that Jayce and Viktor, before they came here, had probably rehearsed many times what they had to say in case fools like Tyler found themselves playing the curious.

“The standards have obviously gone down,” Tyler chuckled.

“Tell me about it,” you replied, looking at him almost apologetically, as if just seeing him made you feel sorry for him, so worn out was the little that served as his brain.

“Dearest Nephew!” Bombarded a voice.

Councillor Hoskel himself, then accompanied by what you recognized as Councillor Salo, strode towards your merry little group.

“It seems you have never mentioned such a beauty to be part of your acquaintances.” 

The latter's eyes roamed over your figure as his tongue ran over his teeth. The figure was repulsive, one of his ridiculously thin arms against the enormity of his round beer belly nudging Tyler to make the introductions.

“Um,” he suddenly seemed to have lost his good-for-nothing tongue.

“Revealing our identity at a masquerade would defy the very principle of it,” Viktor sighed, exchanging a glance with you.

You had to play along, take on the etiquette of the discussion for an evening. “Exactly,” you declared with a tense smile that you offered to the trio of troublemakers.

“Is this your date?” Hoskel pointed, his slender finger unwinding from his flute to point at Viktor.

“Pardon?” you questioned, close to choking on your own spit.

“For tonight, is this young man your date?” he corrected. “Unless fate has miraculously brought you together with stylists,” he remarked with a greasy laugh.

Exchanging glances with Viktor and your two outfits, it was almost impossible not to notice the fact that, subconsciously, you'd been matching. Anyone seeing you side by side like that might have wondered about it, and the thought brought what you presumed was shame to your cheeks.

“Oh, no,” you laughed nervously. “Sorry, I did not understand.”

He shrugged and nodded arrogantly. “It's normal, pretty and intelligent is rare.”

You suppressed the urge to throw the contents of your flute in his face, given that he himself seemed not to be on his first one for a while now, and decided instead to play in his own court. “Yes, when ugly and stupid is quite common.” 

Tyler's gaze narrowed as much as his uncle's and Councillor Salo's as Viktor lowered his head, a small smile spreading across his lips as he glanced at you from the side.

“Funny,” Hoskel struck a slight pose as he watched you, ”how being behind a mask gives you wings.”

You raised your chin, squinting your eyes as if looking down on him. “Funny how multiplying champagne flutes does so as well, only...” your eyes drifted to his red nose then his belly full of booze, ”one remains hidden better than the other.”

Hoskel seemed to chew air, grinding his teeth together as he grunted dully.

“My my,” Salo tilted his head down as his eyes remained on you, straightening, ”that's a sharp little one we have here with us tonight.” He cleared his throat, raising his gloved hand to point at the sky as if preparing to lecture. “Take care not to make a woman cry because gods count her tears. Whereas when a woman's up to something, the devil sits at his desk and takes notes.”

“A citation?” remarked Viktor, destitute as he was of a champagne flute while his free hand let only his thumb protrude from his pants pocket.

“From one of my books,” said Salo, proudly, resting his hand on his chest.

Viktor didn't seem any more enchanted than that to be taking part in the discussion, but no doubt had to try to find some fictional interest in all that was being told. “Do you write?”

Salo took a sip of his champagne, swallowing it quickly enough to respond with airy hand movements. “The Gods kindly offer me the first verse. What is difficult is to write the next ones which will be worthy of their supernatural brothers."

You brought your flute close to your lips. “Yes, otherwise who'd write the scripts for beggars,” you mumbled, before taking only one more sip.

Viktor huffed. Salo frowned, not seeming to have distinctly heard your words. “I beg your pardon?”

You swallowed, pressing your lips together to collect the rest of the contents of your sip. “Yes?”

“I don't think I quite heard what you said a moment ago.”

You thought you wouldn't be heard, your eyes shifting from Salo to Viktor for a moment before returning to the counselor and closing your eyes, a nervous smile spreading across your lips as you tried again to be diplomatic.

So you tried a graceful exit, shaking your head. “I think the champagne bubbles must have started their little rise, I'm thinking of getting some air to release them.” Just before leaving, you repeated the formula you'd heard so many times this evening. “If you'll excuse me.”

You looked at them one last time, lingering a moment longer on Viktor's gaze as you left for one of the balconies.

The night air bit into your cheeks like apples, the winter coolness slapping you in sharp contrast to the warmth inside. The cool air filled your lungs and you thought for a moment you'd end up frozen from the inside out. There was no wind, just the muted calm of the cold and the murmur of the city below.

You stepped forward, placing your glass on the edge of the balcony. You didn't care if it fell, if it flew away, if a pigeon shat in it. The mere fact that the crystal of this flute had touched the lips of so many people who had destroyed so much hope for your own made you want to grab it by its stem yourself and send it waltzing off to the stars.

You brought your hands to your arms, as much to prevent yourself from needlessly accessing this hatred as to gain warmth. Your eyes watched the horizon, the lights of Piltover in every window. How many knew what their consumption was bringing from the other end of the river? Your gaze drifted towards the latter, the lights much dimmer as they gleamed from the very bowels of the city. You thought back to Eris's letter for a moment, but what did she want to talk to you about? 

Your hips touched the guardrail, your fingers running over Tyler's previous grip as if to dust off any DNA that had settled there. It was a good thing Viktor had arrived, or Tyler's nose would surely have had a few stitches.

A warmth rose in the back of your neck, familiar from Viktor's breath when he'd saved you from a nasty fall in the library. He'd gone ahead and helped you. There seemed to be this mutual recognition, this acceptance that, whatever happened, you were there to take the lead from each other. 

Your hand instinctively went to the back of your neck, trying to banish this feeling, or to recover it on your fingers in the hope of getting a little warm comfort. Was this a reaction to the trauma of his presence? Surely it could be, unless shame had crept under your skin and lingered there. 

You drew your fingers up slightly until you found the string of your mask, undoing it and letting the fresh air spread over your face.

The distinct tinkle of a cane snapped you out of your thoughts, and you didn't even need to turn around to know who it was.

“You've left me in the lurch of a thorny conversation.” he said, his voice warm in the night air as he approached you, staying a reasonable distance to your left.

You sketched a smile, not yet turning towards him as you watched a fictitious dot in the distance. “What were they discussing?”

You felt him remove his mask, dropping the loop of black ribbon holding it to dangle from the handle of his cane. “I left as soon as they'd mentioned the matter of therapeutic obstinacy.” 

“A discussion like that should have had you hanging on to their every word,” you joked, finally turning your head towards him.

The prince of the night offered you his profile, his darkened eyes watching the horizon in the distance. He had a presence that froze you, a power so strong that it held you in place. You felt worthy of being the rival of a man like him. But were you still assuming this title?

“I think I'll let Tyler take it from here,” he smiled softly, turning to you.

His amber eyes planted themselves in yours, and you only managed to support it for a few seconds before your eyes drifted to his shoulders.

“You...” you breathed in, observing his elegant, sophisticated outfit, ”you look nice.”

He parted his lips, tilting his head slightly to one side as he squinted with a slight smile.

“Was that a compliment, miss?” he questioned.

“Don't get used to it,” you sighed, rolling your eyes, then reaching for your champagne flute, ”this is a special occasion after all.”

You brought your drink to your lips, the sensation of champagne making you feel a little freer, a little lighter and able to loosen your tongue to say or accept things you'd normally refuse.

You could feel his gaze on you in your peripheral vision, skirting the length of your body, your back illuminated by the interior of the room while the rest of your dress looked like a piece cut straight from the night that embraced you.

“That colour,” he began, his gaze drifting back to the horizon, ”it suits you.”

You thought back to what he'd said what seemed like an eternity ago. ‘It's beautiful, it's calm, in lavender as well as plum, in cassis as well as grape, in wisteria as well as... whatever, it's the one I prefer.’

It's the one I prefer.

You tried not to dwell on that thought, to move on.

“Who'd have thought Tyler would come all this way to bother us?” you huffed.

Viktor chuckled lightly. “He can't get enough of us.”

“I've rarely seen anyone scrape so deep into the depths of incompetence.”

“I believe you've met his uncle, though,” Viktor remarked. “And he, so far, holds a place on the Piltover council.”

“I guess it runs in the family to fall victim to one's own mediocrity.”

“And you had the gift of reminding them of it.”

You smiled, regaining his gaze for a moment. “Don't tell me you didn't want to either.”

He shrugged, pretending to think about it. “Yes, although I must applaud the success of your execution.”

“Would that be a compliment, Moravec?” you stressed.

He earned your gaze, eyes crinkled with a slight sneer. “Like you said - this is a special occasion after all.”

You nodded, shaking your head as if it were a song you'd heard too many times already.

A moment of silence passed, a slight quiver taking hold of you as the hour advanced and the air grew fresher and fresher.

“I've been thinking about the clauses for our truce.”

You turned towards him, arms again crossed as if to hold any ounce of warmth close to your body.

You smirked, grabbing your flute as if to help you listen to him and make those decisions.

“I'm listening.”

“Firstly,” he began, ”we shan't have any rivalry that doesn't engender some obsession pushing us into critical health situations.”

You rolled your eyes. “That was a one-time thing-”

“That is my first clause,” he cut in, his kohl-rimmed eyes insisting on the fact. “Second, mutual aid. If one of us experiences a difficulty somewhere, they must share it with the other, no matter how big their ego and pride.”

“Well that's going to be easy,” you sighed, pressing the crown of your flute close to your lower lip.

“Thirdly,” Viktor straightened up, tilting his head slightly forward as if in a short bow, ”let's be friends.”

You pressed your lips together, considering the offer truly.

Was there even a downside to becoming friends with Viktor? Besides the fact that you had to question your animosity towards him since the beginning of the year, what were the pros and cons?

Sure, he could get on your nerves in discussions, but it had been ages since you'd tried your hand at verbal jousting so constantly, and you were beginning to get used to it. 

But apart from that, he wasn't a threat, he was inclined towards progress and advancement rather than stagnation and stubbornness, and he'd already considered you friends for a while, if you went back to Agrane's attribution of detention where he'd wished to come to your defense.

Besides, he was from Zaun - few students here could say as much and understand you on certain points.

“Agreed,” you replied, and his shoulders relaxed slightly. “But be careful, don't expect me to hop like a flower around you.” You huffed. “Jayce has already had to chase me around for quite a while before I'd officially consider him a friend.”

He shrugged, pressing his lips together slightly as if indifferent.

“That's fine by me. Fourthly,” he continued, ”clauses can be added in the future. Of course, they won't be imposed and can be discussed.”

You arch an eyebrow, huffing. “Do you have many more clauses?

“Do you agree to this one?” he asked, frowning.

You looked at him for a moment. This seemed to be very close to his heart. “Yes.”

“Good.” he smiled.

“Is that all?”

His eyes trailed over your shoulders for a moment. “Just one last one.”

He set his cane down against the marble railing, unclipping one of the pins that held the chain holding his coat to his back. He pinched the shoulders of it, taking a single step towards you to place it on yours, pressing his hands lightly on them as you felt the warmth his back had spread over the fabric against your own. He took care, with his long, slender, cool fingers, to reattach the chain neatly.

“My last clause for tonight is for you not to get cold,” he said, his voice more tender as he took a step back as if to observe the vision you were. “Luckily, we wore the same color.”

You took one of the sides in your hands, bringing it close to you to cover yourself with it.

“Won't you get cold?” you asked. 

He shrugged, regaining the grip of his cane as his eyes remained on your coat-covered figure. “If you think Jayce won't get rid of his coat at some point this evening, you're wrong.”

You crack a smile, wondering what would happen if Jayce overindulged in champagne and Viktor had to go home with him tonight. Unless, of course, Jayce and Mel ended the evening together. He slipped on his mask again, replacing it gracefully over his features.

Viktor was getting ready to go back inside, and you didn't know if the magic of champagne bubbles was making you say things, or if out of sheer urge you were calling him.

“Viktor?”

He turned to you for a moment, one part of his face bathed in the warm light of the interior while the other remained in the night like a crescent moon.

You parted your lips, the simple two words coming pouring out without doubt or regret. 

“Thank you.”

He seemed amazed, even with his mask over his face. But the astonishment quickly gave way to a softening, until his lips stretched into a smile and he stepped back inside.

Some people won't get any magic words out of you, but Viktor was worthy of them. You brought the collar of his coat close to you. His scent was sweeter than you'd expected, that of sun-warmed stone mingling with a lingering coffee fragrance.

Your eyes returned to the city, the vision of his kingdom, of streets he would split with his cane to hit the color purple on their cream walls.

It's the one I prefer.

The evening had come to an end. You had tried to fit into some of the conversation circles that came and went as time went by, remaining mostly silent and listening without interjecting, laughing when they laughed, nodding when they nodded, and trying not to simply stuff yourself with petits fours.

You'd thought of finding a way to take a handful with you so you'd have a little variety to bring back to give Sky a taste of how the evening was going. But you expected that, of course, you'd be looked at strangely for this behavior if you went through with it.

Some of the guests began to leave one by one, and you took the opportunity to do the same. Jayce, Mel and Viktor seemed nowhere to be found, so you dropped the idea of venturing into such a building in search of them. Who knows what you might stumble upon in the surrounding rooms? You didn't want to accidentally walk in on the feverish one-night stands of the guests, so you just took off.

The city had been asleep for some time, and the quiet yet illuminated streets were deserted. Had it been Zaun, venturing out at such an hour of the night in such an outfit would have been worth a lot of trouble. But Piltover had real rules of respect and a very different general upbringing, so you didn't feel in any danger of advancing like that.

Your heels were starting to hurt seriously and you would have given anything to be carried home. But there was no vigilante Jayce in sight to catch you if you fainted, nor any gentleman gallant enough to carry you like a princess.

How nice it was to be looked after, to have someone take care of you simply because they could.

The memory of Viktor dozing beside you as you recovered came to mind a moment before you chased him away as you turned a corner. Viktor's scent had permeated your nostrils all evening, and it was the only familiar, reassuring thing that kept you going.

The vision of the dormitories appearing in your line of sight was the greatest relief of all.

You passed silently through the doors of the building, taking the opportunity to remove your heels and sighing at ease as the soles of your feet finally settled on a surface that didn't need to be arched.

You slowly climbed the stairs, the soft feel of the red carpet almost tickling your feet as you inserted your key into the lock. It was late, perhaps Sky had not stayed awake and had gone to bed, and you had no wish to disturb her peace.

You turned the knob, entering the still-lit apartment, Sky lying on her bed with a book. Her eyes turned to you, her mouth opening wide as she looked at your outfit, which she hadn't had a chance to see. You smiled, closing the door behind you and dropping your heels to the floor.

“Girl,” she'd chuckled, watching you as you took off the coat and folded it neatly to let it hang over your arm like a waiter's towel, ”give me a twirl.”

You performed, spinning around before finishing with an exaggerated supermodel pause that made Sky laugh.

She snapped her book shut and sat cross-legged on her bed. “I need every detail you can give me.”

You picked up a hanger in the dressing room, hanging Viktor's coat which you hoped to return in the next few days before returning to Sky and sitting down with her to tell her all about it.

She had you turning your back to her, helping you remove the few decorations in your hair as you described everything to her. The hall, the dresses, the atmosphere, all the endless discussions, your meeting with the famous Mel Medarda, your altercation with Tyler and his idiot uncle.

“In any case, you didn't miss a thing. Apart from a few exceptions, the room was filled with the heads of bankers who hadn't gotten laid for twenty years.”

She laughed softly, pausing in the unraveling of your hair, her eyes watching a point in the void.

“Doesn't it make you dream a bit?”

You turned to her, confused. “To be a banker who looks like she hasn't gotten laid in twenty years?”

“No,” she chirped, giving you a little nudge on the shoulder, ”the mystery of the masquerade, the richness of being able to organize such an event without having to worry about much?”

You rested your head on her shoulder, pondering her question for a moment. Finally, you raised your head, staring into space.

“I think I would rather spend my life close to the birds than waste my time thinking I can carve myself wings.”

Sky sighed, probably dreaming of the golden life of the princes and princesses the world inhabited and longing for more. You didn't envy them - you felt scorn for their privileges and their inability to act for change. But you had no intention of crushing your friend's hopes.

“Who knows, maybe one day you'll be one of them and laugh as you drink champagne with infinite bubbles.”

She smiled softly, wrapping an arm around you.

You didn't tell her about your discussion on the balcony with Viktor, preferring to keep your exchange a secret for the time being. perhaps you'd bring up the subject when she asked you where the dress and coat came from. 

But for now, you kept the secret of the purple close to you.

It's the one I prefer.

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[pomefioredove]

Hiya! I'm the one who requested the Siren thingy from some time back! LOVED IT BTW!

But anyways, since oneshots are opened, I was wondering if It's possible to do a one shot with Leona and a Reader who has a very intimidating appearance but is actually a sweetheart. They even own a motorcycle that they drive around on and often wear skates on campus!

leona fic... I've been itching to write him lately idk why... thank you anon!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ "dangerous"

type of post: fic characters: leona additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, CUDDLES!!!

So, you're "intimidating".

He supposes you're in the right place for that.

After "meeting" you (you accidentally skated over Ruggie's foot, which was very funny, but still annoying), Leona had dismissed you as yet another NRC showoff with something to prove.

He'd been at Night Raven College for a decent time, now, and he'd seen your type before. Intimidating, fast, dangerous.

Leona had heard the way the other students talked about you. The whispers, the gossip, even the quiet looks of awe/fear were worth a thousand words.

His thoughts? Whatever.

To him, you were another herbivore in need of a serious ego check. And, more importantly: not his problem.

Until today.

"And beat it," he says, shoving the two Savanaclaw first years he'd caught cornering some poor piece of meat in the hall.

"You're gonna give me a damn headache."

The two scamper off, tails between their legs. Leona sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Damn froshes..."

Can't anyone at this school behave? Showoffs.

If he so much as gets a sticky note from staff about his freshmen causing trouble... again... Sigh. Nothing a good nap can't fix.

He's about to find a warm place to sleep when he feels something in his hand. Leona would jump if he were anyone else.

But he's not. So, he looks down to see... you. The poor piece of meat in question.

Holding his hand.

"Thank you," you chirp.

He raises an eyebrow. It's not every day some herbivore has the guts to touch him like that.

So damn sweet he can feel his teeth rotting from that look alone.

"I wasn't 'doin it for you," he takes his hand back and begins walking.

He makes it halfway down the hall before his ears flick towards the sound of footsteps behind him. He turns, and you're there.

Leona gives you a warning glare, and he keeps walking.

Again, footsteps. He looks over his shoulder. "Beat it,"

He keeps walking. If you weren't giving him that damn look, so innocent and sweet at witless, he might've assumed you were trying to pick a fight.

You're either stupid or brave, following him into the lion's den.

But you do, from the hall to the botanical gardens, from the door to his favorite spot.

For whatever reason, he lets you. Something about that look on your face...

"Y'know, if you're trying to hunt, you're not doing a good job," Leona yawns, stretching out in a patch of sunlight.

"Oh," you say. "I'm not."

"Obviously,"

He closes his eyes. You just stand there. He clears his throat. You still don't move.

Finally, he sits up. "What're you, looking for handouts? Go bother someone else, I've already got a moocher,"

"I'm not, I just..."

He raises an eyebrow. "You what?"

You seem hesitant, your hands folded oh-so-politely. For all the talk he'd heard about you, you're really... rather...

"You're nice to me,"

Sweet.

Leona scoffs. "That's it? I'm nice to you?"

You say nothing. That question answers itself, anyway- and, yet, doesn't annoy him, either. You must have a piss-poor life if you think he's nice.

It makes Leona's chest feel warm. Damn it.

"Fine," he sighs. Damn it. And he scoots over to make room for you in the patch of sunlight. Damn it.

You sit beside him, and he wraps an arm around your waist, and pulls you into his side. He watches you get comfortable.

"You're a real sweetheart, y'know that? You're not gonna survive long at this school," he mumbles. "But I guess you know that, huh? That's why you're here."

You nod. Damn it. When'd he get so weak?

"Just... don't get too used to it," he says. "This is a one-time thing."

(Spoiler: it was not).

[indigosaffron]

Caitvi being endgame was the thing that ruined season 2.

I don't mean that in a homophobic way - I am literally a lesbian and in the first season, I rly liked Caitvi's dynamic. Vi was given a space to heal and a person who helped and cared for her. She didn't need to protect and lead Caitlyn like she did with Jinx, Mylo and Claggor, and as a result we got to see her heal and be vulnerable as she didn't have to be strong for the people she loved. Caitlyn, on the other hand, had grown up sheltered and privileged, and her relationship with Vi allowed her to see the people of Zaun more clearly and encouraged her to help them and set aside her prejudice. This dynamic was also reflected in how the show portrayed the people of Zaun. In the first season, it's very pro-Zaun, pro-revolutionary, anti-fascism, all that.

And then the second season, Caitlyn pulled a complete 180, started acting like a fascist and hating the people of Zaun, and in the end... Vi forgives her.

Is this in character for both of them? Yes, actually. Caitlyn has grown up sheltered and was raised to look down on the people of Zaun, it's very easy for her to just turn back to that way of thinking. Vi is also incredibly dependent and forgiving when it comes to those she loves. We see how hard it is for her to let go of anyone - Vander and Powder are obvious examples. So it isn't strange that she doesn't leave Caitlyn and forgives her in an instant.

Would it have been so much more interesting if Vi didn't forgive her? Yes. A million times yes. I would've loved to see that character growth for Vi, of her establishing that boundary and deciding that she had to leave Caitlyn behind. I'm honestly kind of mad that they gave Jinx so much development and growth throughout the story and Vi has barely changed. Her political beliefs seems to be the biggest thing that has changed, and even those are rooted in the same character traits - first she was fighting for powder, now she's fighting for Caitlyn.

It's not just that I'm mad that they never address how toxic this relationship becomes in season 2. I saw someone else mention how it went from "privileged + oppressed" in s1 to "oppressor + oppressed" in s2 and if that doesn't just sound like literal abuse to you idk what to say. They frame this in the show as a normal relationship - at best, it's both of their faults and their both in a bad place mentally. They never address how horrible Caitlyn acts throughout act 1.

As a result of this, they kind of lose the whole "Piltover is an oppressive force and the people of Zaun should revolt" plot line. Instead it becomes "both sides are bad and in the wrong", just like with Caitvi's relationship. After all, the show can't properly condemn Piltover and yet support Caitlyn at the same time. And if they want Caitlyn and Vi together in a relationship that looks healthy, they have two options - either they address the flaws in the relationship and take the time required to fix them, or they ignore the flaws and pretend it's not a big deal.

They don't have the time in 2 seasons to address those flaws, though, so they decide to ignore them, and in doing so ignore the flaws in Piltover's overall treatment of Zaunites. This creates a contradicting message between the first and second seasons. In the first season, it was obvious that the Zaunites were being mistreated and that they should rise up. In the second season, they suddenly ignore all of that, and instead make the nations unite to face the "bigger problem". I didn't really like the hex tech plot line to begin with because I felt like it distracted from the more important plot line, which was the whole Piltover v Zaun thing, which they completely brushed under the rug.

Maybe this would've been better if they'd had more time to properly flesh out Caitvi's relationship, but as it is, it would've been better if it wasn't endgame at all imo.

[eyesthatroll]

NEVER HAVE I EVER / CHAPTER 01

next chapter

pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: two college kids trapped in a bathroom

warning(s): underage drinking, idk

word count: 0.8k

author's note: this takes place when our boy is in college, obviously. hope you enjoy!

A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you finally reach the bathroom. The volume of the music and the chatter from the party fades significantly in this quieter sanctuary, offering a moment of respite from the overwhelming atmosphere. It's in this tranquil moment that your mind fills with regrets about your decision to attend this party.

Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you take a moment to adjust your strapless top, which had fallen a bit lower than you'd prefer. Despite feeling like both a physical and emotional wreck, you take solace in the fact that at least you don't look as bad as you feel.

"You're not allowed up here," a stern voice echoes from beside you.

Startled, you jump back, your heart racing, with uncontrolled, heavy breaths escaping your trembling lips. With a mix of fear and curiosity, you cautiously pull back the shower curtain, and your eyes widen in disbelief. There, in the bathtub, lies Luke Hughes, a prominent player from the hockey team, nonchalantly sipping from a bottle of tequila.

"What the heck?" you blurt out, your mind reeling as you struggle to make sense of the bizarre situation unfolding before you.

He casually shrugs, taking another leisurely sip from the tall bottle. He extends it towards you dismissively. "Want some?"

You shake your head, an air of confusion still swirling around you. It perplexed you why he was up here, drinking alone, especially after his team had just won tonight's game by six goals, and he had earned four points.

He chuckles, his gaze shifting from you to the space in front of him. "Figures."

You scoff, bristling at the implication in his words. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, I knew you wouldn't drink, because you're a good girl," he says, a slight smirk playing on his lips. By God, did you want to wipe it off.

"You don't know anything about me," you tell him, your head tilting slightly to the side, as if trying to get a better read on him. You try not to feel offended by being called a good girl, but his tone implies something else, and that annoyance simmers within you. You knew there was nothing wrong with being a good girl, but he made it sound as if there was, and that grated on your nerves instantly.

"Your name is Y/N Y/L/N. You're majoring in sports psychology, and you love hockey. You used to play volleyball here before you tore your rotator cuff. You used to date that asshole from PHI KAI before he cheated on you with your best friend Anna. Your favorite movie is The Big Short, and you almost never leave the house without your camera."

Your mouth falls agape, and you're left momentarily speechless. Your mind struggles to comprehend how he even knows your name, let alone all that personal information about you. Sure, you attended a lot of hockey games, and you might have passed him between classes, but you've never engaged in conversation before today, and yet, he's just recited personal details about your life with unnerving accuracy.

"It doesn't matter, I'm leaving anyways. Have a good night, Luke," you mutter, your hand wrapping around the door handle. You twist it, but the handle refuses to budge. Frustration building, you bring up your other hand, using both in a hurried attempt to twist and pull at the handle, yet the door remains stubbornly locked in place.

"Luke, I can't open the door," you inform him, your hands still struggling with the doorknob.

You pivot to face him, noticing that he's reclined in the tub, his eyes now shut. "Yeah, it does that," he comments, the tone of his voice making it seem like this happens often.

You shoot him an incredulous look. "Well, can you fix it?"

He clears his throat. "Yeah, you can," you let out a sigh of relief, but it's short-lived. "From the outside."

You let go of the handle, stumbling backwards slightly as you assess the current situation you're in. Your back meets the sink counter, and you wince at the pain but choose to ignore it for the moment. "Can you call someone?"

He lets out a heedless laugh, finally opening his eyes just to raise his brows at you. "My phone is downstairs."

"My phone is dead!" You exclaim, pulling your phone out of your back pocket and waving the device around, but nothing but a black screen appears.

Luke shrugs again, an easy-going smile playing on his lips. "Looks like we're trapped."

[lvlyghost]

I LOVE YOUR WRITINGS SO MUCH 😩❤️😍 the way you characterize ghost is so good I can't 😭❤️ I wanted to ask if you could maybe write something for me since your writing style is sooo good frfr

How about ghost and reader have an argument that was started by ghost and he goes a bit too far breaking the reader and making them cry and be just a shell of themselves how would he feel when he sees the readers state and how would he fix it with a happy end please

Broken Wings

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Summary: After a night out, things seem to take a turn in your relationship with Ghost.

Word Count: 2.1k

Tw: angst, hurt/comfort, self doubt, jealousy, probably ooc!simon, curse words. lots of grammar mistakes, poorly edited you know the drill🐝

A/N: i loved this request sooo much, though i did have a lot of trouble when writing it since i wasn't feeling too inspired. also had two different stories but ended up deciding to post this one i might post the other one idk, hope you like this anon! I did try my best🫶🏻🤍🩷✨corrections are appreciated; remember english isn't my native language 🐸

Masterlist✨

"I like you." You said with big bright eyes.

"But no one can know about this. Just you and I. That's enough." He answered, hand tracing the side of your face.

You blink rapidly. You have always been daydreamer. It caused you tons of problems although you tried to do your best when you were out on missions. Ghost is walking ahead of you, boots sinking in the sand beneath your feet. The waves crashing on the shore is something you like listening to and seeing too but under different circumstances. Both of your gear clink with every step you take, it's the only sound as well as the sea that swallows the tense silence that falls between the two.

Things have been rather... strange since two days ago and you've tried to talk to him about it. It wasn't weird for Ghost to push you back every now and then, he was a complicated person and you couldn't be more different from one another.

You were the sun and he was the darkness that came at night or so he had said one night at the common room back at the compound. He was stoic, grumpy and hardly found himself enjoying somebody's company. You on the other hand, even though you wouldn't consider yourself the most outgoing person like Johnny, still you liked talking unlike him. You loved going out with the task force. And most importantly you loved when Ghost joined because you loved him, you loved having him around, despite his gruff responses or annoyed looks.

You jog though your legs shake and tiredness sets in your body.

"How much farther until we get there?" You ask, ignoring the fact that his frame goes rigid when you speak . He doesn't acknowledge you at first. All you hear is a small sigh leaving his lips. You kind of wish he wasn't wearing the damn sunglasses so you could see his eyes.

They always said a lot.

"Thirty minutes. Give or take." The answer is short and cold, breaking your heart a little more than before. Still, you decide to try again.

"Sir, is something bothering you?" Before he can stop it he scoffs, shaking his head. "What?" Brows furrowing on your features. "Simon..."

He stops all of the sudden, turning to face you with a tense stance.

"First of all don't bloody use my name out here. Secondly it's your own fault we've been walking for hours. So don't go asking if something's bothering me, Sergeant."

Taking a step back you open your mouth.

"My fault? I was doing my job!"

"Didn't know your job was to get your fucking head blown off!!" He seethes. "Fucking hell you can't be this reckless and expect me to clap at your poor acting on the field." Your heart begins to race, he had never said such things to you. Taking a small step back your grit your teeth, you hated that his words were making your eyes blurry. This was the Simon you never wanted to see. And yet there he was. "Now we lost the damn intel thanks to you." He spits. But something isn't adding up.

"It's not just that. You've been acting strange for a few days now, Ghost. Don't come and tell me it's just because I did what I was supposed to do!" He stiffs yet again. Jaw clenching so hard you fear he might break it. "Not missing the way you avoid me ever since..." you close your mouth shut. "The pub..." he shifts his weight from one foot to another. The waves are increasing and now reach your feet, dampening your boots. And then you remember him storming off the local pub before he even finished his own drink. Everyone had heard the hard slap to John's arm when he had tried to calm him down. God why didn't you pay more attention to that moment? Because you both had agreed to keep your distances? And going after him was out of discussion? Then the next day you'd barely seen him, just for a short moment during debriefs and that was it. The moment you had gotten up from your seat he was gone. And today you were supposed to go to a special op that had soon become a problem that eventually led to the two of you in the middle of a beach, it was a cloudy day and if it weren't for the heavy layers you wore you're certain you'd be shaking. Sometimes –and you were ashamed of it– you were oblivious to many things and it seemed that Ghost's anger toward you was one of them this time. "What happened?"

He inhales deeply.

"It's over. That's what happened."

Your heart sinks and you swallow hard. Your whole body loses color when he mutters those two words. Out of all the things, all the possibilities you thought he'd say to you, he decided to end everything. Shaking your head you try to touch his hand but he doesn't let you.

"Ghost where is all of this coming from I don't understand!" You choke out. "We were fine..."

"No. You were fine. If I wasn't enough you should've just said so."

"Stop... you... what the hell are you talking about???"

"Nothing that matters anymore. Keep walking and don't say another word. That's an order."

He turns and keeps walking as if nothing just happened. As if he didn't just completely broke your heart.

'You were fine'.

What was that supposed to mean? You think, walking a few meters behind him, scared to even say anything else; to even try to grab him by the arm and force him to talk. It would only make things worse right now.

By the time you reach the safe house it's started to rain the silence between the two is deafening and tense. Ghost's cold demeanor and hurtful words have left a scar. Never in a million years would you think you'd be here, with a broken, shattered heart and no explanation from his part.

Words that pierced through your soul.

That day something died inside you. And he was the reason.

-

Two weeks, three days and seven hours.

That's the time that's passed since that day at the beach. Two weeks since Simon broke you and gave you no reasons.

You're a disaster.

You barely eat or get any sleep. There's dark circles under your eyes and you're sure you've lost some weight too. Ghost has been gone on a mission alone with Johnny for a week now, which left you with a lot of spare time to think about the two of you.

More tears stream down your face when you remember that day. Had you missed something important? Was Ghost's mind somewhere dark? Somewhere it shouldn't be? God knows he was... difficult to say the least. But every single time you tried, tried to be there for him. Did those late nights at your home meant nothing? Had he not seen the way you looked at him? Had you not shown him enough of your affection? Everything you'd do for him if he simply asked?

Getting up from your bed you get ready for another day. Not bothering to lace your boots just shoving them inside your shoes you walk down the hallways until you get to the training room. Gaz is talking to John in the far corner, the Captain's arms are crossed over his chest while Kyle frowns and shakes his head. You don't to even go and salute them as you normally would do, instead you put your earphones on and hit the treadmill.

It doesn't last long though; after one minute someone stops it by pressing down the off button. Your brows knitted together as you stop, turning to look up at Gaz who smiles politely.

"Sorry for that, sweetheart. You okay?" You nod, but say nothing more. "Come here." He pats your shoulder and helps you down from the treadmill. If you could smile now you would. But no even the faintest, softest grin leaves your lips. Gaz takes a quick glimpse at your face and rubs the back of his neck. "You know, Soap and Ghost just got back. Heard Lt. was asking about you."

"Oh." You murmur. "Okay." You don't move nor dare to meet his eyes. "I'll just head back to my room."

"Uhmm. I- what I meant is he's looking for you..." Shaking your head you walk away, not having the energy to face Simon right now. And why did he need to see you? Made pretty clear that you two were done, therefore was no need to see each other unless it was work related.

-

"You really do like it here don't you." Your body goes rigid. This was supposed to be your safe place. The roof of the armory was rarely visited by anyone at this hour. Simon's voice seems softer than ever before but you don't answer. Not even turn to acknowledge him. You hear muttered words and then he crouches down to your level. "Price said you're not eating. Do we have to send you to the military counselor now?" How dare he? After all he caused this. You know he doesn't mean it in bad way, somehow he cares for you deep down. Your hands ball into fists, fighting the urge to snap at him, to push him down and just break him the way he broke you. But you don't because you still love him, and could never bring yourself to hurt him. Simon is staring intently at you, waiting, hoping for any sign. He knows he shouldn't be here. Bloody hell he knows you shouldn't even look his way never again. He deserves it. Every bit of it. "Talk to me, love. Please." It's a low whisper. A plea.

"What do you want Ghost?" You ask softly. Simon leans closer, sitting down with his legs propped up against his chest and arms resting on his knees. It's a funny look for someone his size.

"Jus' wanted to see you." You scoff playing with your hands, refusing to lock eyes with him because if you did you'd be done. "Wanted to explain..."

"Then just do it!" You sob. Your lower lip trembles. "And then leave."

"Fine." He agrees. "But I'm not leaving. I- I made a mistake, and took it out on you okay? I was scared."

"Scared?" Your head snaps to where he is sitting. It's painful just to look at him. "Why would you be scared Ghost?" You retaliate

He grumbles, never fancied when you called him that when you were alone. Quite the contradiction given the fact that he told you not to call him his name that day at the beach.

"Because I saw you." He points out. "That night. Everything you're missing for being with someone like me. Can't even show proper affection because it's not me... and you deserve more than that. More than me."

"Ghost..."

"No. Lemme finish, love." He swallows. It's always amusing how controlled he seems. "I lost it, yeah? You looked so happy. How on earth do I deserve you, on what universe do I deserve ya'?"

Sucking in a sharp breath you recall the moments that preceded the events. The sound of music blasting through the speakers, when you joined the rest of the soldiers on the other side of the pub. Private Miller had slung his arm over your shoulders in a friendly manner. You laughed and drank too much that night, it was joyful. Everyone was there, your team. You never thought he felt that way about it.

"Oh my... Simon." You cover your mouth and cry silently. He hesitated for a moment before pulling you close and into his lap. "Should've known something was wrong. Forgive me... I should've stayed with you, follow you after you left." You cry out.

You were scared too, for very different reasons. That he'd get tired of you eventually, that if you weren't cautious enough your secret would be known. Both would get suspended thus separated and discharged.

"No, love. You shouldn't have to go running after me. I should be running after you. Now forgive me, say you will. Or else I might just lose myself for good." You cradle his face in your hands lifting the balaclava just above the bridge of his nose. Thumb tracing his lower lip. Your tears have dried.

"I've missed you so much, Simon. All you gotta do is talk to me, always." He tightens his grip around you. "You think Price would let us go home tonight and not ask questions?"

His chuckle is short and soft.

"Yeah. I think he's known for a while now."

[baldval]

More Husk please! I loved the one you did. My heart was like 😚❤️‍🔥

It's common knowledge that some cats don't like water. Mine actually does though, haha 😆

So maybe somehow Husk got wet and is all grumpy because of it. (Maybe Niffty set something on fire and caused the sprinklers to go off, idk) so reader helps dry him off and is being all soft and sweet and he can't keep his feelings to himself anymore?

Ughhh I love this purrfect man so much ♡

DANG!₊˚⊹♡

characters: husk x gn!reader

wc: 861

warnings: cursing, making out

a/n: idk if i like this but here it is

"For fuck's sake." Husk was mad. Very mad.

You had decided to bake something for the group, some simple chocolate chip cookies. You were following a recipe you had found online, and everything was going great, until you confused Farenheit with Celsius. That lead to, not only the cookies being burnt, but the smoke also activated the sprinkles in the kitchen.

Coincidentally, Husk had just entered the kitchen to look for a snack.

So now Husk is wet, and he hates being wet.

You felt terribly sorry, apologising a million times as Husk kept telling you it was okay, but you could tell he was angry, even if he tried to hide it to not hurt your feelings.

So you offered to help him dry up, taking him to the bathroom and caressing his body with a towel. However, his fur seemed to be hyper-absorbant since that didn't really seem to help and Husk kept being annoyed at his current state.

He closed his eyes and sighed, your fingers lifted his chin up so you could start using the towel to dry up his face. He groaned.

"Sorry" you mumbled "I'm almost done."

His eyelids opened slowly, finding you close to him, his dark eyes fixed on yours, you noticed he started studying your face, growing ashamed of the fact you were ashamed.

"Really though, it's okay" You looked away from him as he spoke. "I really don't mind."

"Except you do." You took a step back, away from him, unaware of the fact Husk wanted you to be closer not further. "I can feel it."

"I mean- yes I was a bit annoyed..." you turned your gaze towards the floor, when he realised this, he held your chin, forcing you to look at him. "but, it's okay. It will be a funny story." You smiled at him and he chuckled. "How do you even confuse Farenheit with Celsius?" You laughed. "I really don't know. I guess I never bake." "I'll have to teach you then."

"Oh, I would love that."

A silence filled the room, yet not uncomfortable. The towel was now laying on a table while you both stared at eachother, smiling.

Husk's eyes moved towards your lips, it seemed as if he was almost analysing them.

You noticed this. "Do you like my lips or why are you staring?" You teased, he immediately stopped staring and you could see how his cheeks where gradually getting redder. "I'm joking, don't worry." "Yes." You looked at him confused. "I do like them." It was your turn to blush as he got up and closer to you, a finger of his over your lip. "They're quite pretty." Your body went stiff, realising what was going on: dim lighting, silence, being the closest to one another you had ever been.

Oh, and also, Husk had just confessed he liked your lips, whatever that meant.

Dark eyes wandered over your mouth, following his thumb as it now slid to the other side. Hesitantly, he moved even closer until his lips hovered over yours. The anticipation that filled the room made sure to cut off both your breathing and his. But then, Husk closed the distance between your mouths, hidden feelings bursting out into the open. Husk’s kiss was soft, and you made sure to reciprocate slowly, easing into the unknown sensation of kissing him.

When the kiss stopped he remained still. Your shaky hands slid up his torso, fingertips grasping his fur to keep him in place for as long as the sweet burning sensation sat on your guts. You weren't sure of what came over yourself, maybe it was the curiosity of having him as more than a friend. Maybe it was the thoughts that had constantly whispered at the back of your head how attractive you thought he was, the thoughts you had made sure to ignore and so you never acted on them. Maybe it was the thrill of crumbling his aloof and distant demeanor in between your hands.

Maybe it had been all of those things together, but you slightly and eagerly nudged your nose against his. And so he kissed you again, with a deep sigh of surrender and his hands roaming up your thighs. The sounds of kissing filled the kitchen, your tongue sliding across his tongue, his hungry mouth now fighting against your, your hands moving towards his neck. His fingers squeezed your skin, a breathy exhale left your throat almost becoming a soft whine.

“What…” the cat-like bartender tried to form a coherent sentence, but it seemed like his brain for once wasn’t cooperating.

“I…” you cleared your throat, blinking a couple of times “I don’t know.”

He swallowed, trying to find words once again.

“Listen, I…”

“It’s okay” nervously you tightened your grip on the back of his neck, now anxious of letting him go “we don’t have to talk about this today or tomorrow. We can just… forget it happened.”

“We can just let it be… for tonight.”

“Yeah” you pulled him close again, his body relaxed as he followed your movement and searched for your lips once more.

“Yeah, just for tonight…”

[cinhomi]

Hear me out like dilf!Felix agenda or Minho as your teacher IDK-. My friend recently told me about the move Miller’s girl coming out soon and I’ve been thinking about just Minho as your teacher lmao.IDK HE WOULD BE SUCH A STONIC DUDE BUT LIKE WHILE YOU GUYS ARE ALONE HE WOULD BE JSJSJSJS

(May I be 🎀 anon jsjsjsj)

DILF FELIX 😵‍💫 TEACHER MINHO 😵‍💫 I want to caress your face and boop your nose. HOW CAN I FIT BOTH IN ONE ASK THAT WOULD BE 5K WORDSー I'll focus on teacher Minho but PLEASE come back with dilf Felix BECAUSE I HAVE A LOT TO SAY ABOUT HIM TOO OMG

teacher Lee Minho who is known to be this scary, strict man that has all kinds of stories about him being told from student to student in the corridors since he's very reservate and mysterious. he dresses formally, with cool and natural toned dress shirts, vests, ties and blazers. his pants always hug his tighs a little bit too tight when he rests on the border of his desk.

teacher... call him professor. professor Lee. he checks his expensive gold watch from time to time, and accurately displays his book, agenda and pen in a precise order. most students don't know they end up on the floor when he clears the surface for you to sit - or lay - on the polished wooden surface. he likes to be tidy and on time... so when he starts to be late to put down some papers in the teachers' room, or when he has to meet a colleague with his hair disheveled and his tie loose, well, it's only natural to be suspicious. but he's a serious man. he must have some trouble in his life... some trouble that he enjoys a bit too much.

professor Lee Minho who tilts his head to the side the first time he sees you, a puzzled expression on his face because he doesn't understand how someone so gorgeous, sweet and beautiful like you could exist. he doesn't realize it, but now when he's having a lesson in your class it seems like he's explaining things only to you, his gaze fixed on your shiny eyes that look directly into his, on your tempting lips, it drops a bit lower where he can see your naked legs cross under a flimsy skirt. he often comes close to your desk and looks carefully at your calligraphy, or to be precise, at your fingers holding the pen. he slowly starts wondering how'd they look wrapped around him.

he's known for being the most observant and smart professor of the institute so you can't really fool him, it's so obvious your cute little panties get wet when he smiles whenever you know the answer to one of his tricky questions, when he rests a hand on the smaller of your back when he has to pass beside you in the corridors, when he praises you for doing so good on his subject. everyone is starting to think he's got a preference... and it's so damn true. he doesn't alter your score, it really is admirable, your talent on his subject, but you're the only one he's never scolded or insulted somehow.

you're his perfect pupil, he holds you on the palm of his hand. it's not the first time he has students trying to fall into his favour, seduce him, but you... you don't do it on purpose, he has enough experience to know that. yes, you may stay up late to have the best score with him and him only, but you are so natural and obvious with your feelings, it's adorable.

he wants you all to himself.

professor Lee Minho who, after few months of seeing each other almost everyday, asks you if you want to stay a bit more after your classes so he can give you private lessons to go a bit more in depth with whatever topic you're studying at the moment. at first it really is like this, him sitting on his comfy, soft chair and you beside him on the chipped and hard one, swallowing your whimpers whenever your knees touch. oh you're so cute. you take coffees together, he brings you nice treats from the café he goes to every morning, after two weeks he promises to eat you out if all of your answers are correct. but don't worry, before making such promise he wooed you respectfully, with manners, like a true gentleman. before unbottoning your delicate shirt to fondle with your breasts to help you concentrate he did flirt with you to the point you had to get up and splash your face with cold water.

he loves it when you call him "Mr. Lee" in public, but when he locks the classroom he becomes "Min" or sometimes "Sir", or, other times, "Master". he even goes through the trouble of taking you to his place sometimes. Minho is a good cook, but you never eat much in those occasions.

he loves it when before starting the day you subtly give him your lacy panties and he has to sneak them in the pocket of his blazer. he can't help that mischievolous smirk from forming on his lips, knowing your perfect pussy is bare and ready for him if he wants to. and nothing will stop him from avidly taking the soft fabric to inhale your scent while palming his growing bulge everytime he's alone.

Mr. Lee also loves when he's correcting his students' works and you study while sitting on his lap, his lenght buried deep inside you. he likes to pat your head when you do a good job, but he also makes you choke on his cock if what you did doesn't please him at all.

professor Lee Minho that notices you scoff and sigh and pout when another student flirts with him, so when you two meet later he makes sure to fuck you like the good girl you are for him. he treats you so well, how can you be jealous? it's so, so obvious he's obsessed with you.

I see prof. Lee making you bend down his desk, his grip tight on your hips, under your skirt that jumps back and foward from his slow but powerful thrusts and your panties moved to the side. he's bending over your back, with his breath fanning on your neck, his lovely praises going straight to your throbbing core. I see prof. Lee making you sit on his pompous chair as he kneels for you and spreads your legs to dive his head in between them. I see prof. Minho using a ruler to tease your clit and your asscheeks. I see prof. Minho rolling his eyes in pure bliss as you ride him in the bathroom.

mmh... he eventually admits to himself that he fell for his student and has to switch schools to be able to take you out on week-end dates <3

I will write more about.

[amazingmsme]

Death Wish

AN: got fans come get your dinner! Here’s the Brienne x Jamie fic as promised! Idk how y’all survived this long without fluffy fics, this fandom is living off CRUMBS! But I wrote Jamie & Brienne flirting & teasing each other to fix it. Enjoy day 13!

Brienne would be lying to herself if she said she wasn't excited to see Jamie again. In their time together, he had really grown on her, as much as she tried to fight or deny the fact. The man had a decent wit to carry on an interesting conversation, and a dry sense of humor that always seemed to leave a smirk on her face.

But apparently, that wasn't good enough for Jamie Lannister.

They were alone in his room, or rather, his guest room, sharing a couple glasses of wine and nibbling on some cheese he'd brought with him from the south. He had just finished a joke, and when he didn't get the expected reaction, he couldn't help but pout, even if it was slightly for show.

"Am I just not funny to you?" he asked outright, when she merely huffed in amusement at his joke. She furrowed her brows in confusion.

"What do you mean?" she cocked her head to the side curiously.

"You never laugh at anything I say; well, you have, but more at my expense," he clarified, making her pause for thought. He had really been trying to amuse her all this time... She bit back a fond smile.

"If you're concerned I don't find you amusing, you can put your fears to rest," she assured. Jamie sat up a little straighter, leaning across the table.

"So you do like my jokes?" he pressed further, flashing a drunken, but no less charming, grin.

She couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Yes, alright? Is that what you want to hear?" she caved easily.

"Then would it kill you to just laugh at them every once in a while? I'll even take a chuckle," he bargained.

""You're ridiculous."

"And you act as though humor will be the thing that does you in."

The glare she sent his way shut him up. "I'm simply not as," she paused in thought, "Forthcoming, with my amusement."

He blew her off, tossing his head back in annoyance as he waved a hand. "Excuses, excuses."

"Why do you even care?" she asked incredulously. This wasn't even important, and there were certainly better topics of discussion to focus on. She wasn't used to being the center of attention.

"Curiosity, I suppose," he shrugged. "I've never heard you laugh," he said, sounding surprisingly genuine. He was leaning against the table, chin propped up in his hands as he stared at her with big, green eyes. She quickly adverted her own gaze.

"It's nothing special," she insisted.

"Maybe, but I want to see for myself."

She wasn't expecting it. Honestly, it was the last thing she was expecting, and as such, she had lowered her guard. But his hand snuck under the table, giving her knee a few rapid squeezes, and she froze with a choked off gasp, leg jerking up and banging the table. Their plates clattered and tankards sloshed as she tried to will away the blush spreading across her cheeks.

"I knew it! I mean, I was hopeful, but I knew you just had to be ticklish!" he bragged, despite the fact that the only hand he had left was currently held in a vice grip. The bewildered look on her face was worth it.

"What are you talking about?" she hissed, looking him up and down as though he'd gone mad.

"Well if I can't get you to laugh the traditional way, this'll just have to do!"

"No, Jamie, I swear-" she cut herself off with a bark of laughter when he wiggled free from her grasp and immediately went back to tickling her knees. As hard as she tried, she couldn't contain her mirth, only getting louder as he continued.

"So knees are a good spot. Makes sense, you're all legs," he teased, spidering over her kneecap. She shrieked and doubled over, fist hitting the table as she tried to chase his hand away.

Finally, she caught him.

"Do you hahave a death wish?" she asked, panting as she caught her breath.

Jamie never looked so smug.

"Do you really have to ask?" he cocked his head, arching a brow playfully.

"Alright then. Your turn."

Suddenly, he changed his tune.

"Wait no, we can tahahalk about thihihis!" But it was already too late for that.

"What's there to talk about? I warned you, but you didn't listen," she pointed out. Her hands dug into his sides, and he immediately burst into shrill giggles.

"Thahat was barely ahaha warnIIIIING! Nohoho plehehease, not thehere!”

"I mean, honestly, you're lucky I didn't just take the other hand," she taunted, though she tried to appear annoyed.

"Ihif you dihihid, I'd tehehell everyone about how I- nohoho wahahait!" he cut himself off with bright, cheerful laughter as her hands lowered to knead his hips. He twisted and bucked as he tried in vein to stop her, but he didn't exactly mind the situation he found himself in.

Still, he needed to breathe.

"Ohohokay, I'm sorry, Ihi'm sohohorry!" he pleaded, grateful when he was given a break.

"Yeah?" she questioned, and he nodded frantically, sporting a giddy smile. "You sure?" More nodding. "I don't believe you."

"But- Brienne nohoho! Plehehease!"

"I should've done this ages ago! You would've been so much easier to deal with if I knew this was all it took to take down the dreaded Kingslayer." It was rare for her to show emotion, even more so if those feelings stemmed from affection. Yet here she was, actually teasing him.

Surely that had to count for something.

Her fingers were long and slender, able to work their way into any ticklish spot they could find. Jamie tried to hold out, he really did. Because it was downright embarrassing how right she was; just a few fluttering touches and well placed squeezes, and he was already tapping out.

"You wihihin, YOU WIN!" he blurted when her hands rested on his thighs. She arched a brow, staring down at him quizzically, but a fond smile tugged at her lips.

"Oh really? What do I win?" she asked nonchalantly as he continued to unravel.

"A-ahahanythihihing!" he blurted out, and Brienne had to bite back a laugh of her own. He was truly desperate, wasn't he? He had to be, if he was begging like this.

"Anything?" she questioned, drilling her thumbs against his hipbones. He let out a high pitched shriek before tossing his head back.

"W-within reason!" he quickly stuttered out before cutting himself off with an embarrassing snort. His face flushed a dark pink and he shook his head weakly, smiling so wide his cheeks hurt.

"Well then, that's not anything now, is it?" she asked in an even tone, softly pinching her way up his sides, his ribs, slowly traveling higher and higher. Jamie was squirming more the higher she went, babbling pleas pouring from his mouth.

"B-Briehehehenne nohoho! P-plehehease, nohot thehehere! NOHOHOT THEHEHERE!" he screamed when she reached her destination, pressing his arms down to his sides. This only served to trap her hands there, leaving him no other choice but to laugh. Joyful cackling filled the air, and she knew he only had one hand to fight back, but he wasn't even trying.

Wait, did he like this? Then, a worse thought: was she liking this?

The new revelation was sudden and alarming, and she needed to put an end to this stupid little game he had started. But not without taking his offer first.

"Alright, I'll let you go. But you owe me a favor. Any favor, any time I need it, no questions asked no matter what," she had to raise her voice slightly to be heard over his hysterics.

"OHOKAHAHAY! YEHEHES I'LL DO IHIT! SOUNDS GREHEHEAT!"

Okay, at this point she seriously doubted he was even listening, but he agreed, so she tugged her hands free. He giggled and jerked back when her fingers wiggled one last time as she pulled away.

"Do you even know what you agreed to?" she asked, not even bothering to hide her smirk as she watched him recover.

"Something about a favor," he shook his head, dazzling smile still firmly in place. He doubted it would be leaving any time soon.

"Good thing I was bluffing."

Wait, what did he just say?

Brienne looked at him with wide eyes, barely having a second to brace herself before getting body slammed out of her chair.

"You see," he started as he struggled to pin her arms beneath his legs while straddling her waist, "I always win tickle fights." Most of the time. "So I have a reputation to uphold."

"You lying bastard! Now let me go!" she growled, trying to squirm her way to freedom. He was heavier than she expected, and it wasn't so easy to just throw him off. Or so she told herself.

"No, I don't think so. I only found one tickle spot!"

"And that's all you need to find," she said, trying to sound threatening.

"So there's more?" he asked, resting his hand on her waist. She went completely stiff, lips pressed into a thin line.

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to."

And then he struck, and as hard as she tried, she couldn't contain the laughter that flooded out of her.

"Feel free to yield at any time," he taunted, and Brienne regretted letting him off so easy. No way would she tap out from just a little tickling, she refused. But depending on how ruthless he proved to be, she might not have a choice.

She'll just have to weigh her options when she's desperate enough.

[wooeo]

i forgot to put the tiktok link on my last ask incase you didn’t see the video of kai, so here it is: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPREak1wH/

also i’ve been trying to write some thoughts about sunoo and wonie since they’re my biases but damn it’s so much harder to write for them, for some reason lmao. same with hoon, jake, and hee. the easiest to write for are ni-ki and jay <3 idk why tho

here are some hcs that i did come up with after spending so long on them:

• yk how there’s duo brand partners? ex: heejay, jakehoon, wonki. enha girlie in a duo brand deal with sunoo!!!!!!!!!

• (name) rejecting all solo brand deals until one with sunoo was sent <3

• whenever (name) & sun are next to each other, they’re never not interlocking their arms & chatting in their own world

• jungwon and girlie going on late night walks together and one day finding a secret spot to chill

• that one spot is now their special hiding place, that not even the other members know about. they do hear about it tho and are like “wtf why aren’t we allowed to know?”

• won: “i asked if any of you would like to come take a walk with me but you said no soooooo :/ “ losers weepers ig

• i saw a video of cha eunwoo brushing off an eyelash that was on somi’s cheek. i think that’s so sunghoon and heeseung coded!!!

• they would turn to face (name), turn back but then do a double take and brush off a stray eyelash off for her

• or fix them if one seemed about to droop down and poke girlie’s eye

• i feel like jake would do something similar too but like with fixing (name)’s clothes instead? or brushing her off after they had to sit on ground for an en o’clock ep

• like patting off imagery dirt or actual dirt if they were outside. idk how explain it properly, so i hope yk what i mean 😔

• whenever girlie is accidentally in the way of something or someone, jake pulls her to his chest and says something like “careful, love” in english

link to eunwoo and somi clip: https://youtu.be/5Qh0zLfUxhw?si=1mJPG61HbbFDY4rN

timestamp: 1:55. the video randomly popped up on my recs after watching astro trying to catch a bug lmfao

- 🔮

🔮 anon.... your mind.... its so big and juicy....

i hadn't seen the video of kai so thank u for that 😭 in front of all those fine ass women 😭😭 i won't touch on everything you said 😋

i don't think you'd reject all form solo brand deals, don't think h*be would let you tbh — they're taking any and all chances to capitalize off of you. but !! you're so much happier when you're doing a brand deal with sunoo! also your face cards side by side ?? crazy. absolutely decked out in gorgeous jewelry and clothing lord,,,, you and sunoo is an insane iconic visual duo like,, we all croed 💔

the hiding spot with jungwon is so cute omg ,, imagine its like a small back alley cafe where theres next to no one so its all quiet and you sit and walk for hours 😭💔 turning off your location so the other boys can't track you and interrupt lmfao. like you love your boys but they're so loud all the time and its nice talking to jungwon, praising him for his hard work and him being flustered and praising you in return 😭😭

heeseung and sunghoon take care of you in quiet ways,, fixing your hair, your clothes, if you have a stray eyelash *sniffle sniffle* they're so careful and never say anything about it, they just do it quietly and move on *sniffle* and jake *sniffle* "careful now," what if i die

[asfateentertwines]

idk if you like this ship, but Nocorro headcanons?

Hi sorry for the delay, I went on a Nocorro tail spin for this

Neteyam hides his feelings for Spider when they're young because he is worried about his moms feelings but has always been gentle with him and secretly enjoyed his company

They got along but just weren't overly close

Spider always was jealous of Neteyam for being everything he couldn't be - Na'vi, loved, strong, respected, etc. But always admired him just as much

Their relationship would start secret - on the downlow for the sake of their own anxieties - and would start due to their common denominator - Lo'ak

As his big brother and his best friend respectively, they always seemed to be the ones at the end of his messes. For Neteyam, it was cleaning them up or talking him out of it and for Spider, it was tagging along before inevitably just trying to keep them both alive

It's my thought that Lo'ak is the one that considers Spider's humanity the least and sees him the most as just Spider, even moreso than Kiri, and so he accidentally gets him hurt a fair amount - hence, Neteyam has to patch him up

This time is where they bond a lot - venting, mocking one another, but also eventually devolving into the fear, insecurity, etc they each feel

They would be the couple that goes through all of the 'new' stuff (i.e the awkward and honeymoon phases) by themselves while no one knows yet about their relationship so that by the time they get together publicly, everyone thinks of them as the old married couple of sorts

They equal one another out in a lot of ways and meet one another's insecurities - each is everything the other wants with the added consequences they didn't see coming

While it takes vulnerability that neither is prepared for, they come to be the same space for one another they each need and become a big part in one another's healing

They're both emotional protectors to the other as no one ever filled the roles for them and for once, they both get to be someone's priority

Its the story of the oldest son and forgotten child

They're two sides of the same beat up coin

Neteyam is protective and takes after his mom in being a guardian but is more reserved and takes social cues into account - he is aware of his mates vulnerability and protects in a lot like how his parents do - meanwhile, Spider is just fucking feral

It takes a long time to teach Spider that he can't just go in like he has nothing to lose - there's a lot of self-worth arguments

However, this comes to head with neither being sure where they stand to announce the relationship. I imagine it wouldn't come out until it had to

in canon, this is the RDA capturing Spider

The RDA taking Spider is what ends with their relationship becoming public

Neteyam has to see his parents as mortal and imperfect while Spider is faced with the doubts on his self-worth and position in the family

Neither knows how to proceed but they fight like hell with something more to fight for than the original canon offers

Neteyam loses it when Spider is taken, he goes feral, fighting with all of Neytiri's spirit, and relies heavily on his parents and the childish belief that they can somehow fix it

I don't think he would realize there's no fixing it until they're with the Metkayina and Ao'nung is courting him

He would lose it, acting more and more like Lo'ak while being lost in his own internal whirlpool of self-doubts and questioning

If war didn't make him grow up then this does

He doesn't think he'll get Spider back until he sees him on the deck but at this point, he's just blindly following Jake - he's unanchored and confused and it is still Lo'ak who ultimately is the reason Spider comes home

As for his fate, I think Spider would have been closer to him. Neteyam would have grabbed him on instinct and been ducking lower to guard the more vulnerable of the two and missed the shot

Them getting home is like recovering from a breakup though

Spider spent the months more convinced than ever that he is unwanted and left astray

But he is also more aware of the emotional manipulation and more at peace with his dynamic with the Sullys so Quaritch doesn't have as much success with him

Despite his doubts festering, it's a sort of resignation that the things they felt for him isn't enough - not that they don't exist

Neteyam would have given him hope that he is a part of the family and made him feel something worth cherishing

Then the RDA comes and it's the resignation that everything is over and he's not going home

He's a lot more grim here

But the upside is that Nocorro is a lot of healing

They're with the Metkayina and helping one another remember their value - Spider in the family and Neteyam as his own person

They both need to be reminded that they're worthy of loving and that's what the months following ATWOW is filled with

Consequently, it's also how the duo become legitimate threats to the RDA

The protective rage they both feel with what was taken from them means they're ruthless - they become a lot more empowered to protect their homes and focus on building some place safe for their family

Ultimately they are a very love and family driven couple with the other slowly becoming their other half, they operate like an extension of themselves with a level of understanding no one else would have

Post-war would take a long time for them to settle but I think they both have similar desires again in just having a loving, safe place for their family to grow and to heal together

Honestly this couple is just very soft and very old married couple, like think the gays from The Last of Us that die together bro

[madfantasy]

Dear blogging

Wish you peace, always. Considering all, it been extra rough. My guardians were sick, and my fragile of a stability was about to break— but it okay now, and the pendulum of consciousness returned swaying in my head.

Somehow in the middle of everything, I was starting to feel okay and accept that this is the best it can get for this non verbal Mani. I honestly I stopped living as if there was tomorrow maybe the majority of 2023, zero drive or hopefulness, and lately started to accept that there's no denying that I'm not made to survive this life, and dropped all pretence that I'm able, set a 5 years counter. Because if mere looking at people's faces distress me so much that I blank out &/or go mute, since childhood, no amount of me forcing myself to watch videos/ pictures over and over can fix that. That's simply how I'm made and I know that now, and in a way it's bringing me peace.

Because I thought I'm bratting when I wore my headphones to cancel out noise that were literally going to drive me insane, or when I couldn't respond to messages knowing that I can articulate deeply in writing but ignoring all the endless times when I simply couldn't, and have forced myself to eat many things that set me days in nausea and abdominal pain while I only enjoy liquids more and get high off of fruits, I love them so much half my OCs are named after some.. and drew.. drew even before I spoke because it was my only outlit to express because how much I'm told I'm like a robot, I'm so expressionless and non reactive and disgustingly literal, even when they actively beat me black Nd blue to stop drawing, I couldn't.. where do you free those emotions when U can, i needed emotion displays and heartfelt trimmers, thrilling or killing, I needed to do them as if my life depended on it, and I haven't realised it back then, but my life was dependent on them, even when I had 'no talent ' , as I have always been told.

(commissioned by precious Julia ♥️🖤)

And besides drawing my needs, I actually, physically, started to feel better when I didn't do what my body said it literally can't do, all my life:

-Walked away from my guardians arguments, my chest stabbing pains became less frequent.

Stopped "practicing" my voice &/or facial expressions, I talk for 2 minutes, immediately my whole face muscles hurt, voice is cracking and gone, I don't feel like my eyebrows hurt as much. I'm okay being the monotone no expresso train c:

-stopped eating what I "don't like" (I mean it's not like I have much choice, but stopped feeling guilty over refusing it cuz food be tight) Nd now I can actually drink more water, and my tummy aches are on lower levels now

-i stopped dealing with Discord, or group chats in general cuz I don't expect accommodation over things I can't deal with. Stopped stressing over doing engaging material that no body seems to care about, cuz I'm not a good judge of demand, or stressing over either I should be thanking everyone who spams me with likes or not, (while I appreciate it to the moon) 90% of the time they don't respond Nd Im forced to think like I've done something wrong. I'm now at more ease with posting — (literally I have to fight the urges to delete my socials daily) just with interacting with who addresses me (I lov U guys sm) and I've been more relaxed from it.

I returned to "speaking in riddles" cuz if I don't use the words my brain spews no matter how weird they R, a tire will pop somewhere on the other side of an AU- idk lo'

-i rock, hum and laugh OUT my maniacal laugh, hard and strong, continued loving and talking to my plushies as I used to do, the easiest thing I could do to feel calmer again. As everyone should do

.. I stopped saying the word sorry. It's a naughty Mani era.

Accepting these facts and many, even with having no will to live had me saner than I ever been, at least I hope so.

I just know that I have a few to be grateful of: that I'm still here somehow, even with my dwindling income, Nd my internet not worth costing 120$± I'm always grateful for the sudden one or two commissions that keeps me here and buys me coffee and pumpkins seeds..

I still struggle horrindously with sleep. But I'm grateful at least I'm at pure ease playing games. Games been my go to media for knowing basically all based on books they were made about, like Severus and Tintin, I still play their ps1 games! Tho I got stuck on this game & their sleep has given me so much ease lo

I'm at my happy place rn, heh.

Bonus panel: ye they R hungry for that SHI- lo 🙈

And an honorary appearance of my OC with Tintin hehe

Stay safe, don't feed the overconsumption machine, don't give up on your heartstrings's stringers, don't worry— there are people who think and feel like you always between the crowds, and I'm thankful that I share the same timeline with you♥️🖤

Sweet dreams 🌃 19.2.2024

[glowingbadger]

idk if this will be too specific so feel free to mix and match as you like, but 2, 16, 37, and 38 for Axel?

AXEL MY SPECIAL MAN I love him so much, always thrilled to write for him lol. And y'know, I've had this concept in mind with him for a super long while that, after he gets his heart back, he might have a hard time fully dealing with how intense his feelings for Reader-chan are, and how different it makes the sexual side of things feel for him, so I'm gonna roll with that for this and apologies in advance if it gets a bit longer than some of the other kink prompt drabbles~~

(Side note I wasn't sure who you wanted on the giving/receiving end of any of this so... I guessed lmao. Also because this was a lot of kinks for one piece, I played a little fast and loose with them and some are represented more than others. I was just kinda winging it idk)

Anyway man I spent too much time struggling to find any time to write lately so like if I have to come back to this in a week to fix word repetition and type-os then... so fuckin be it I guess lol

Axel (Kingdom Hearts) x GN! Reader

Kink prompts list #2 - body worship, #16 - praise, #37 - massage, #38 - size difference

NSFW 18+

Axel kisses you differently these days. Like the moment he feels your lips on his, he's struck by something powerful and compelling. Like he can't quite control himself. With his heart returned to him at last, you've quickly discovered the novel and enthralling sensation of it pounding rapidly beneath your hands when they come to rest on his chest. But then- just as he has every time since your reunion -he stops. The warmth of Axel's touch leaves you, and he pulls away even as your hands subconsciously remain clenched around his black t-shirt. You blink your eyes back into focus. He glows in the early evening light where the two of you have settled on a large blanket along the shores of the Destiny Islands. The stunning turquoise of his eyes still seems to sparkle like the sea itself, even as he glances away from you and sighs.

"S- Sorry," he mutters, his head hanging, "We should, uh, probably get back to the others, yeah?"

Your brow furrows, and you pause to watch him at first. It's impossible to tell in the bleeding reds and oranges of the coming sunset, but it almost seems as though his face is flushed pink. You wonder- have you ever seen Axel blush before? It doesn't seem like him. But then, he hasn't had his heart for very long.

Just as he starts to pull away from you, you find your voice,

"Axel- wait," you gently tug him back towards you on the blanket, and he follows so that he's made to face you, "Is... is everything alright?"

"Huh? 'Course everything's..." he trails off as he meets your eye. His expression falls, and you can tell he sees the pained concern on your face. He sighs.

"Sorry, I uh... Ugh," he runs a hand through his hair, exasperated, "Don't look at me like that, c'mon. I'll spill, okay? It's just," his posture deflates, "it's pretty lame."

You shift closer to him, straightening the scrunched up blanket as you do so you can pretend you don't notice the way his body tenses beside you.

"You've just... been worrying me a bit lately, that's all. About how you're doing and, well, about us."

"Woah, woah, hey now!" Axel frantically takes your hand in his, holding it almost painfully tight near his chest, "Don't go thinking like that! Don't ever think that! It's my fault- I'm... not used to actually feeling all of this."

You frown a bit, then your brows raise as you gradually begin to understand. As you process, he elaborates,

"Before, when I 'felt' things, it was more like remembering, or thinking about feeling. Like... when someone tells you something really sad, and you feel bummed about it, but you weren't really there, right? It wasn't your sad thing that happened."

You get the feeling that, for him, this is a frustratingly inadequate metaphor. Still, you understand well enough, so you nod.

"I got used to that," he says, his eyes low before raising them to gaze at you with a sincerity that makes your chest ache, "But now, it's different- I feel everything. I feel it so much- an-and, being around you, it... drives me absolutely nuts. My heart," he releases your hand and places his at his chest, "It just goes wild when I touch you, sometimes it's like it's about to go up in flames."

You look at him warmly, leaning close.

"Well, if anyone could handle that, it'd be you."

He gives a short laugh through his nose, and his gaze softens.

"Guess so. Anyway," he sighs, "it's super lame, so... I didn't wanna bother you with this. But I kinda blew it, huh."

"It's not lame, Axel," you say with a grin, "Honestly I probably should have thought of that before now- I'm sorry I didn't. It must be really overwhelming to be feeling so many things for the first time in so many years. You were just a kid when you lost your heart."

"Guess that's fair..." his body finally relaxes a bit, but after a pause, he adds, "Still, I feel like a jerk though. It's not that I don't wanna be near you, or... touch you and all of that," there's a heat in his expression as he speaks, raising a hand to tentatively graze his fingers down your jawline, "Man, I really, really do."

"Then... maybe you just need to ease back into it?" you lean into the feeling of his hand at your cheek, offering what you hope is a reassuring smile. He looks at you, confused but intrigued, and you say,

"Like, maybe you could just, you know, practice touching me. Take it slow, don't rush, and, well... touch me as much as you want."

The crimson of his face rivals his hair, and his voice scratches just slightly in his throat,

"Wha- like, like a massage?" he gives a short laugh, "I mean, I'll try, but I've never-"

"Sure, like a massage," you smile, and immediately begin undressing to only the bathing suite you'd thrown on beneath your clothes. He's seen your body before, back in his Nobody days- many times, and every inch. Now, you see his chest slowly rise and fall as he breathes deeply, watching you with something like awe in those bright teal eyes. A part of you dearly wishes you could fully understand how it feels for him. How world-shaking it would be to live without true emotions of your own, to somehow come close to love in that state, and then to one day regain those feelings and be confronted with the full intensity of it all. You wonder if he'll ever fully adjust; he lived without a heart for a decade, after all. But, at least for now, he seems very interested in that massage idea.

You lay across the blanket on your stomach and glance expectantly back at him over your shoulder. This seems to shake him back into the present moment, and he positions himself above you. Your body warms at the reminder of how much taller he is than you- the way that, in the past, he'd been able to manhandle you, touch any part of you, overwhelm you while you gasped his name. You shake the thought from your mind for the time being- he needs you to take this slow. For now, anyway.

Axel's hands come to rest tentatively at your shoulder muscles, and you smile at the familiar warmth of his touch. He's always been warm, though you suppose that only makes sense. Very gently- almost too gently- he begins to rub your shoulders up to the muscles at the base of your neck. You close your eyes and exhale, smiling while your heart flutters at the chance to finally feel this, feel him. Gradually, he works down to your shoulder blades, and you let out a groaning sigh as he works out a knot you hadn't noticed prior.

"Mmm, that's nice..." you murmur. You feel Axel's body tense behind you. "You doing alright?"

"Yeah," he says, too quickly.

Before long, those strong hands reach a firmer and more consistent pressure, and he seems ever slightly more sure of himself. You allow yourself a few happy sighs and groans to encourage him, commenting now and then when something feels especially nice. He takes his time, and you're patient, reminding yourself that, for as much as you burn and ache for more, he needs to be the one to guide your pace. Yet by the time his hands run down your back, tracing your waist and reaching your hips, you can't help the cat-like way you squirm beneath him. He's closer to you now, and you can feel his heat behind you. For a moment, you think you feel something else, too- something hard and warm at the swell of your ass.

"Damn, Y/N..." he mutters as he runs those hands back up your body, thumbs applying a wonderful pressure close to your spine, "You're gonna make me lose it with those noises..."

"Mmh, but it feels so good, Axel," you luxuriate on your words, mercilessly prodding at his lust. Perhaps it's cruel to tease him this way; already, you can feel the harsher grip of his hands, and you're certain you hear something like him biting back a groan of his own. With a playful look back at him, you arch your body and say,

"I missed this, you know. Having you on top of me."

"You little..." his words trail off, but his hands wander lower, briefly groping at your ass in a way that reminds you of how he'd grabbed and spanked you in the past.

"Sorry, sorry," you say with a small laugh, "Is this too much?"

"No," he grips your thighs and runs his hands upward until he's cupping your ass in both hands, spreading it beneath the fragile barrier of your swimsuit, "Now that I'm past that first barrier... it's nowhere near enough. Maybe that's what I was really nervous about this whole time."

At first, you only hum pleasantly as he fondles your body, your pulse racing with the thrill of his hands meticulously tracing your every contour. When you finally think to speak, you ask,

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." you feel Axel's thumb play along the edge of your swimsuit, just barely sneaking below the clingy fabric, "I mean that I'm so crazy into you that right now I can't think of anything but how badly I wanna show you exactly how my heart and body both feel about you. And once I start..." his body presses to yours, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, "I don't know how I'm ever gonna stop."

For a moment, you're mindless and breathless. The heat of him around you is intoxicating, warming you through to your core even as the sun begins to dip beneath the glassy ocean behind you. Axel props himself over you with one arm on the blanket beside you, while his free hand holds at your hip, tugging you against him so you can feel the pressure of his hard and throbbing cock against your ass.

"Please," you whimper, "Axel, I've missed you so much."

Without a word, he tugs your swimsuit out of the way and opens the front of his jeans. The head of his member presses to your needy, clenching little hole, then forcefully begins to spread you open around him as he thrusts forward. His impassioned groan is swallowed up by your gasping cry of his name, but for a moment, he simply remains sheathed in you. You'd nearly forgotten how big he is, and he seemed eager to remind you, but even so, you can tell he hasn't entered you to the base just yet.

"Sorry... for makin' you wait so long..." he grunts against your ear.

"Wo... worth it..." you barely manage to reply. The pain and pleasure of him stretching you around his iron-hard cock is mind-numbing. You feel the tingling sensation across your skin all the way to your fingertips. Then, just as you'd begun to get accustomed to his size, his hips begin to sway. Despite his desperation for you, he's gentle, carefully and gradually pumping into you at a pace that allows you to adjust as he fills you just a little deeper with each pass. Axel has always been so much more gentle than he wants anyone to know, but you adore the harsher things about him, too. When you feel the tinge of discomfort of his cockhead bottoming out inside of you, your ass finally meeting his lower abdomen, you sigh his name aloud in absolute bliss.

"How's... that heart of yours doing?" you half-sigh.

He's pressed against you, holding you with an incredible loving tenderness while his massive cock sends mind-breaking tremors through your core.

"On fire," he says, the pace of his thrusts picking up, his breath hot and ragged at the back of your throat, "I like it."

[backjustforberena]

i'm probably the only one that didn't enjoy rhaenys and corlys' s scene fully, idk It was awful when he left her alone even if she needed him and she was almost in tears, rhaenys's deep loneliness hurt me. it was almost the same sensation i felt during the 'driftmark episode'.

I'm never going to say that I "enjoyed" Corlys leaving her because what that man should do is wrap her in a hug, never leave her and just do everything she says.

BUT. I do actually love it. It's heartbreaking. But it's in character. I don't think that Corlys fully believes himself capable of being a support to Rhaenys, nor do I feel like Rhaenys can fully be open to Corlys. This is the closest she's come to it, but there's still a sense from her to protect herself. I think they're both facing mortality and their losses and potential losses... and that's making them pull away from each other but also pretend that things are fine.

Corlys has just returned back from the dead, basically. And his heir has been murdered, a boy they loved dearly. I also think there's a lot of compound grief about his kids and his brother. His usual coping mechanisms are shaky. He can't go to sea, his physical fitness was diminished and he's still ashamed of leaving his wife. He's not feeling masculine or strong or worthy. So deflecting and pretence seem to be the order of the day so as to not make Rhaenys worry, in the hopes that he'll become that man. So he'll avoid the conversations bound to cause them strife and he'll put all his effort into building his boat back up and he'll trust that his wife will remain patient and loyal because he loves her. He knows how strong she is, how she's survived without him and doesn't need him. He'll work and work until he can be of practical use to her and unashamed to engage with her.

So I think there's absolutely the question that can be asked if: how bad is Corlys actually admitting this is? He's wanting to keep her happy. But he thinks the best way to do that is to ignore the issues.

And, crucially, he thinks he's got the time to do that. Or hopes he does, at any rate.

I think as vulnerable as Rhaenys is, Corlys is suffering with his own vulnerability.

Rhaenys, on the flip side, is just asking him to be there. She can handle it, and I think that's what he's taking for granted, she can absolutely carry herself and it and everything. She doesn't need him. But she wants him. She wants him to support her on the council, she wants him to make a choice about his heir (I genuinely don't think she minds who, just pick), she wants him to have this tough conversation and be honest about the fact that this is war and she might lose him and he's not invincible. And that that scares her. He scared her. It's not so long that she was left without him and didn't know what to do in a way that might make him happy.

But Rhaenys is never going to press it. I think she's aware of his fragility. She sees him trying to deal with his feelings as a rush to get back to war, rather than a rush to be strong and useful again. She's nurturing him (made sure he had lunch, broth included), she's trying to see if he can be relied upon. She wants to rely on him.

But she can't because she's fixed on the idea of strength. They speak of politics but not feelings, not really. The only thing that betrays her is her voice, not her words.

She still takes comfort in him. I stand by that. But I think both are seeking comfort in each other but away from each other? If that makes sense? It's like right place, wrong time. There's a disconnect there, not out of any conscious effort. In fact I think they think they are helping the other! But in protecting yourself, you close yourself off from your partner.

Corlys can think he has time because he's not going to sea any time soon. But Rhaenys is on the frontline. Politically and personally, she is seeing that war coming like a dark cloud. And she knows how fleeting things are.

I hope that made a lick of sense. I enjoyed the scene immensely because I enjoy the characters. Tragedy included. The tragedy is now built-in.

[mo0dy-succubus]

Special Treatment

Dom!Soyeon x fem!reader

Authority kink?

Semi-public/risky sex

Squirting

Cum eating(idk)

Boss x employee AU

(This was inspired by tinyidles the different sides of soyeon:Windy)

Your boss Windy, also known as Jeon Soyeon. She owned Windy burger joint all throughout the county. She was super strict to everyone. Well all most everyone.

Your breath hitches your chest moving with every thrust. Here you are. Getting absolutely pounded by your bosses who is also your girlfriends desk. Yall kept your relationship as confidential as possible to avoid any problems to get people thinking you get extra payment.

She treats you like all her other employees. Besides fucking them like she does you. "M-miss~ Windy~ we are gonna get caught~.." you say trying to protest. "Babe you know you don't have to say that when we are alone~" she says looking at your flushed face as she fucks you with a strap on.

You whine feeling your orgasm climb. "S-soyeon~" you say tears flowing down your cheeks. Soyeon kisses you to silence your moans from your orgasm. You tremble squirting all over your girlfriends strap. "Ohh~ look how hard you came this time~" she says dipping her finger in the puddle of your juices on her desk before licking her finger clean.

You pant before sitting up, your hair a mess. You hop down off her desk your legs bucking and trembling still before fixing your bra that was pulled down to expose your breast. "Windy- I mean- soyeon, we can't keep doing this it's to risky" you say you girlfriend helping you put on your clothes. "Why not, you are irresistible" she says teasing you.

You roll your eyes before you get a kiss from soyeon. "I don't like you haha" you said jokingly. Soyeon rolls her eyes before waving you off. No matter how cold she may seem you know she loves you. Alot.

No bc Windy era was literally so good she was so hot in that era change my mind! We need more windy fanfics pls I'll literally will cry if there was more.

[afreakingdork]

Hey! SBF🐍 back again.

I took some time to go back over the fiction so that I could properly respond.

Firstly what mainly didn't make sense was in chapter 9 right right when Y/N fell off the bed, the wording of the Position? Didn't make sense to me- as well as the description right after of the position in (what I believe) is Y/N being lifted up by Don and as he stands on the bed? Idk I reread it and it still seemed odd. I'd love to hear what you were trying to portray better!

By getting to the Villain part comment was made because i have a bias of the word Villain. (I either think megamind type or a political one like Raymond Redington from blacklist) but upon your response I realized it probably isn't like either 😆 I'm still excited to continue reading and am definitely hooked!!

Tons of well wishes while I beat away the demon of writers block. 😁

Hey! Welcome back and thank you for taking the time!

So for chapter 9, quick shameless plug, I did a dirty doodle for the three main positions for visualization on my patreon. I'm disappointed in myself to see that these weren't clear in the text and I genuinely apologize for my failing as a writer. There are three main positions from that section which I will talk about under the cut since it's racy content.

So starting out, the first position was facing each other and doing it on the side of a bed. Reader is laying right at the edge and Donnie is bent on his knees between their legs. When reader falls, he splits their legs wide open with the mention of a clotheshanger. The next position is when he lifts them straight off the bed and then lets them 'drop' a certain length down his length lol. This is basically standing missionary and then the final position is exactly as you mentioned, he walks straight up onto the bed while in that same position. There, if you know the wheel barrow position, then what occurs is the reverse of that. Because of Donnie's height, when reader's upper body falls, it means reader is basically dangling upside down. I hope that clears that up for you. I'll have to take a hard look at the writing to try to pinpoint where the positioning got confusing. If you have exact verbiage where I lost you, that'd be greatly appreciated.

That's very interesting that you came into the fic with a bias /gen. Megamind is a particular flavor that I suppose you could say he openly out? Then, I've never watched The Blacklist, so I have no idea what Raymond is like, but I'll take what I know about political villains and say, as odd as this may sound, that Weak Spot Donnie is both of those and more. Again, I urge you to remember that the story is from reader's POV and we only know as much about Donnie as he lets us.

Thank you again, truly. All of this helps so much, you have no idea! If something is confusing and i don't know, then I can't fix it!